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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

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i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

#my fic #corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse fic #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse fanfic #corpse imagine #corpse x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x yn #corpse x reader

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homoose · 3 years

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Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV

Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a smidge of angst

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.

Series Masterlist

———

“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.

“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.

“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”

“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”

“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.

“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”

The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”

He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”

Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”

“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.

Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”

Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”

“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.

“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.

“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”

“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.

Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.

Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.

Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.

Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.

Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.

With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.

“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.

“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.

When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”

Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”

The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.

He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.

“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”

“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”

Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.

Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.

When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”

Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.

A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”

Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.

Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”

“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”

Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.

“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.

“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”

She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.

They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”

“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”

“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.

“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.

“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”

She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”

“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”

Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”

“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”

Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”

Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”

He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”

She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”

He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.

“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.

“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.

Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”

“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.

“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”

“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.

Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”

“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”

They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”

He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”

He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”

He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I’ll respond to your email.”

…

When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.

Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering

Hi!

I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?

Really looking forward to seeing you in action.

Spencer

He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.

He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.

He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.

He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.

He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.

“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.

Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”

“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”

Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.

“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”

Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”

…

JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”

He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”

JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”

“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.

His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.

He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.

“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.

“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”

Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”

“So?”

“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”

JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”

He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”

...

Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.

Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.

The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.

He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.

“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”

“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”

He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”

“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.

“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”

Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.

...

Y/N Y/L/N

Re: Re: Volunteering

Hi,

I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.

I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.

I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.

Y/N

1 Attachment: Background Check

—

Hi,

I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.

Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.

It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.

Spencer

1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid

—

If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Thanks for that.

No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.

—

This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.

I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.

If you’re up for it, it’s on me.

———

Tags: @spacedikut @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @90spumkin @blameitonthenight21 @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @rainsong01 @meowiemari @mrsmyaweasley @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @coffeeandendlesswords @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @sapphic-prentiss @danifaithkae @saspencereid @heyitssomegirl101

Permanent tags: @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855

#spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #TMSIDK

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queenoftheworldisdead · 4 years

Text

Mr. President

Part 1, Part 2

Summery: After the election the Presidential nominee, Steve Rogers, takes an interest in his campaign manager.

Warning: non consent, light bondage, choking, violence, smut

my first real smut. love to know where i could improve.

Dark Steve x Reader

Being Captain America's campaign manager had to be the easiest campaign you ever managed. The perfect soldier put Americans at ease. Especially with the current administration self sabotage. Although he would be the oldest president to date he didn't look it. Not to mention he would be easily the sexiest president since Kennedy.

Tonight the votes were counted and America's golden boy won. Steve swept the election to become the next President of the United States.

Streamers and confetti rained down as the announcement came through. After the press interviews and the almost endless congratulations you lost track of the President elect.

You blamed it on the champagne that flowed through the event like water. You toasted almost every staffer you came across, hugged donors and party members.

By the time you caught sight of Sam you were most definitely buzzed. He was celebrating too with some blonde campaign aid that's named slipped your mind at that moment.

"Hey Sam! Have you seen Steve?" You shout at him as you make your way through the room. You needed to discuss the plans for tomorrows press tour before you called it a night.

Pulling himself away covered in lipstick his heavily lidded eyes looked at you. He managed to inform you of Steve's whereabouts, he had snuck off to his Presidential suite. It made sense, the super soldier could never get drunk and was seen as a prude much to the delight of the more conservative supporters. A fact that helped them over look his non marital status.

You remind Sam to not have too much fun tonight before departing. It took some effort, but you managed to cut through the crowd without having to stop for too long. Compared to how you felt you were sure Steve must have been exhausted.

Finally you slipped out of the hall, down the corridor and into one of the elevators. The slow ride up to the Presidential floor gave you a respite of peace. When you made it to his floor you got off and from down the hall you saw two FBI agents at his door.

It was a standard procedure for agents to be assigned to the parties nominee. The sight of which always made you giggle. You knew it was standard practice, but Steve was not only a super hero. He also had the support of the Avengers so you didn't see the point in it.

As you approached the door the agents stopped to do their standard protocol. They checked your I.D. and patted you down before allowing you to enter in.

Since you were in charge of his campaign you had a key to his room so knocking never crossed your mind. As the door swung open you could hear the faint sounds of slurping. Furrowing your brow you scanned the room as you entered.

Though the couch faced opposite the door you could see the back of Steve's head. He looked so relaxed, his head lolled backwards with his arms out stretched on the couch.

When the door clicked shut a second head popped up beside Steve. He was not alone and when that fact registered your stomach fell.

Unlike the Aid you saw with Sam you knew this one, Charlene. She reminded you of a younger you, ambitious, a go-getter, with an interest in the maddening campaign process. You had practically taken her under your wing. So the utter shock of seeing her head pop up from what seemed to be Steve's lap had you speechless.

The aid's eyes widen when she turned around to find you at the door with your mouth ajar. Steve's back was still to you, but you could see him whisper in Charlene's ear. She got up with a jump instantly, disheveled, fixing herself, her head down as she walked towards the door. Her head never lifted as she scurried past you, your head following her out the door, closing shut behind her.

You turned back to Steve, who was currently standing and tucking himself back into his pants. The shock of it all was quite sobering.

"What the hell Steve!" You scream at him. You were taken aback by the volume of your own voice.

"You just won the election and this is what you do! Are you insane!" You march over to him.

"Calm down...relax" he lifted his hands in defense with a soft smile on his face.

Why the hell is he smiling?

"Calm down? What do you mean calm down? A scandal like this your first term! What were you thinking?" Your mind immediately thought of how the opposition basically crucified Clinton.

His nonchalant attitude only served to further rile you. Then it clicked.

"This wasn't the first time was it? Was she the only one? How many?" You paced back and forth in the living room of the suite. Your brain was in damage control mode.

He sighed racking his fingers through his hair with the other on his hip.

"It's not the first time and she is the only one." He sighed as you stopped and stood there while he explained.

The news though not as bad as you anticipated was still not good. You crossed your arms and contemplated strategies.

Digging out your phone you look through your contacts to pull together a strategy meeting incase things come out.

Everyone was more than likely drunk off their asses, but this was a code red. But as you were lost in thought and your phone Steve stepped towards you. His hand snatched away your phone, dangling it above your head as you jumped and grab for it.

"Steve what are you doing I need to figure out a plan to get ahead of this if this gets out" you say frustrated as you continued to jump and try to get your phone back.

You place your hands on his shoulder to help you get more lift from your jump. As he dangles the phone just out of reach again his other arm wraps around your waist on your descent. When you feel his arm lock you in place you gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

The way your breast bounced as you fought fruitlessly to retrieve your phone made is already hard cock ache with anticipation. Looking down at you Steve fought the urge to take you right then and there.

Though you had interrupted the fun he was having his cock was undeterred. Maybe if you weren't so preoccupied by his antics you would have noticed that his cock had yet to yield. But when Steve pressed your body to his he couldn't fight back the grin as he watched your eyes grow wide.

He made his member jump in his pants and you pulled back when you felt the movement.

"What are you doing? Stop!" You demanded as you tried to push off him, but his grip was unrelenting.

"You don't have to worry about her I've gotten it taken care off" Smiling at you his bright eyes so innocent had now become dark.

He found it funny how you struggled, pushing and pulling away.

When he released you, you stumbled back a bit. "If I didn't know any better I would think you were drunk" you say frustratedly straightening your clothes as you collect yourself.

While you were distracted he began stuffing your phone in his back pocket.

"This is serious Steve" you huffed out trying to brush off his antics.

He didn't reply. He just stared at you. A look you never seen on him and it was very strange to you. His normally wholesome, boy next door, all American look was gone. Now a darkness stood in its place, something filled with a carnal hunger.

Steve was a man at the end of the day. A man in need of release. When you were brought on to lead his campaign he thought nothing of you. But that didn't last long. The longer you stayed around him it was hard to not developed feelings. You were a constant in his chaotic political life. You styled him, coached him through speeches and debates. A cheerleader he didn't know he needed and wasn't sure that he wanted to let go even though the campaign was over.

He knew that during the electoral race you would never jeopardize the campaign with such a scandal. So when you introduced Charlene to him, he decided she would be a meager substitute as he bid his time.

Loosening his tie just enough that the loop passed freely over his head.

"Look I know your upset..." he said walking over to you casually with tie in hand. "You don't have to worry about her"

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut off your words and proceeded onward. "I've been in love with you for quite sometime." The confession was a shock. You had no clue he had ever thought of you more than just a friend.

Slipping the tie over the crown of your head much to your bewilderment. Pulling the knot tight as it passed your chin. Resting the heart on the middle of your throat.

"This is serious we need to get..." Brushing off his confession as you spoke he cinched it tighter, too tight. The fabric was hugging your neck uncomfortably, making it hard to breathe. You pulled at the fabric as it restricted you, but he slapped your hands away.

"I wanted to wait until after the inauguration to ask you this." He spoke coolly straightening the tie again as you start to gasp at the lack of circulation. Your hands shoot up again only to be thrown aside.

Every inhale was starting to become a struggle. "I think the nation deserves a First Lady." Stepping back he admired you while keeping one hand trailing the end of the necktie halting at the hilt. "Don't you?"

"What are .... What's gotten into you Steve.... this isn't funny" you gasp out as you reach to untie the knot again.

His face frowned when you clawed at the fabric. He yanked on the tie so hard you felt like a yo yo smacking into a wall. Pinning your arms to his chest he snaked his arms around you locking you in place.

There was no music, but he swayed with you in his arms. Your foot catching his foot on every odd step, but he wasn't bothered. As he slow danced with you, you try and pull away but he would not stop.

"I need you to calm down and relax. I'm the new commander and chief now and throughout this process I realized how much you've done for me and how much I need to keep you in my life."

"I understand Steve I do, but that’s not what you need to focus on right now...." That was a struggled to get out with the tie on your throat. "This is a fragile time" you managed to breathe out. He stopped maybe he was starting to finally listen to reason.

His lips crashed into you without notice. Your mouth felt bruised as a result. He started nipping at your bottom lip, your mouth fell open as you hissed in pain his tongue invaded you. It didn't take long before the choking restraint of the knot and Steve's kisses made you breathless.

Your vision was starting to fade and a panic set in.

Get it together and focus.

"St.." you try to speak, but his mouth swallowed your words.

"Mr. President" pulling back he corrected you. His voice dipping to a low growl. "Say it."

"Mr. President" The words felt foreign as it passed your lips. He was starting to scare you.

When he cocked his hand back you hadn't noticed. Not until his massive palm collided with your ass you screamed on impact, but he only swallowed it. Gripping your ass tightly the sting of the smack had you trying desperately to get away.

You hadn't realized you were crying until the salty taste hit your tongue. He must've tasted it too. He moved from your mouth to kiss along your cheeks moving methodically to your neck. The sensation of which you couldn't deny felt good. So good you were stunned to hear the faintest of moans leaving your mouth.

While one of Steve's hands gripped firmly on your ass the other moved between your bodies. You stiffen at the realization of where it was heading. Stopping at your waist he unfastened the button on your pants and slowly dragged the zipper down.

"Steve.. please" you beg. Your arms were useless against his strength.

The hand that gripped your ass smacked you again for the infraction making you yelp. It took too much energy to push away than for him to hold you in place. That coupled with the lack of oxygen you felt like your body would collapse so you held his shirt to keep from falling.

"Mr. President please" You cry out but it sounded more like a moan. That must have urged him on because he began sucking on your neck with such force you were sure you would have hickeys that no amount of concealer could hide.

When his fingers grazed your panty line you shoot yours down to try and stop him, but the super soldier just flicked you off. When that failed you crossed your legs tightly together, but his knee forced them apart. Allowing your pants to pool at your feet. The cold air of the room prickled your skin helping to only intensify your trembling.

Pushing past the elastic his meaty digits separated your folds. He hummed on your neck as he felt them slicker from your wetness. Shame filled you as tears continued to roll down your face.

"Stop please" Your sob of protest were cut off as two digits thrust into you. Steve curled them inside of you the feel of which created a wave of pleasure that radiated through you. Biting your bottom lip you fight the fire he was stoking. It felt so good his fingers deep in you.

"Fuck!" you blurted out as you reach up to grip his shoulders. You could feel your toes curl as pumped in and out of you.

"Mr.President" you didn't recognize your voice as you panted out. He dipped deeper inside you, your juices coating his fingers.

Leaning away from you he stared at you, drinking in the sight of you coming undone from him.

"Take off your top" his voice commanded.

When he sensed your hesitation he slipped in another digit. You bit down on your bottom lip hard as you try and choke down a moan.

"I won't ask again." The thickness of his voice had you fighting against your better judgement. You looked at him and his face was serious.

Your hands rose and you begrudgingly start to unbutton the blouse. He could see your bra, leaving one hand inside you the other sought to free your globes. Pulling them free with a grunt. You hissed and mewled at every pinch and twist of your nipples. He didn't stop until both were hard.

"Do you like how I make you feel?" He asked but by the look on your face he knew. When you didn't answer he twisted your left nipple.

"Yes" that answer wasn't good enough so he twisted harder.

"Yes Mr. President" as a reward he licked circles around your aureola. Kissing it, licking your throbbing nipple with his tongue.

Through your moans you hear the traitorous sounds of your sex. Your heat was coming to its precipice. You gripped his shoulders as to stead yourself from collapsing.

The squirming of your body only seemed to encourage him as he used the heel of his palm to press against your clit as he violated you.

You were getting close, your pussy started to tighten around his fingers.

"Hmmm nope none of that." He growled again. " we just got started celebrating."

Taking his fingers from you, your mouth released a whimper.

Grabbing the end of the tie again. "On your hands and knees" his lips stealing kisses before stepping back. You shakily lower yourself.

Lowering your head in shame for allowing him to treat you this way. He started to walk as you pressed your palms on the cold marble. Your knees mopping the floor as you trail behind him.

When he reached the open door of the master bedroom he jerked the leash of the tie to hurry you forward. You stopped beside him in the doorway and he crouched down to meet you at eye level. His wholesome smile appeared to you as he lifted your head with his index finger.

"OK up on the bed."

Rising to your feet walk over to the bed as he stood in the doorway watching you.

"Take it all off" he said coolly as he tossed his blazer to the floor. Unbuttoning his shirt then his pants.

Sniffing as you unfastened your bra letting it drop past your arms throwing it on the ground. Lying on your back you raised your butt to slide you ruined panties down, kicking them to the floor.

Before they hit the ground the speed at which he met you was neck breaking.

He stood at the edge of the bed his bright blue eyes grown dark with lust. When he placed a knee on the you felt your heart race as it the bed dipped. Your arms cover yourself as you press your legs firmly together. The warmth of his hand on your knee mixed you with fire and dread. His hands began pulling your legs apart with ease despite your resistance.

Lowering his head he places kisses along your inner thigh. The sensation of his lips on your skin make you inhale sharply. Licking your folds and sucking on your clit you grew wetter.

You started hating yourself for loving the way he lapped you up. Licking in-between your folds. Pushing his tongue in and out of your pussy as you fight off another moan. Flattening his tongue he raised it past your lips taking care to linger on your clit before he began to kiss up your tummy.

Stopping on your breast he took your wrists and held them above your head. Holding them with one hand he used the other to massage and gently kiss each breast. Taking your hard nipples into his teeth pulling and sucking on them again as his other hand played with he other.

"Shit" you exclaim. He looks up at you with a frown lightly smacking your breast.

"Language" he said with a stern voice. Moving up again his lips kissed along your chest and up your neck.

The closer he got to your neck the more you could feel his cock proud your entrance. His pre-cum mixing with your slick lips. You moved your hips but his cock pressed harder as it followed.

"Steve please" you try again to reason.

At the sound of his name he impaled you fully. Bottoming out inside your pussy stretched to receive him. You shrieked and instinctively tried to get away from him. Snacking an arm around your back he locks you in place. Each thrust sent shock waves through your body.

"Mr. President" you say as his cock filled you past your limit. "Fuck!" You were becoming delirious with every stroke the pain had you crying out.

"So fucking tight" He slammed into you unforgivably. The pain started to mix with pleasure. You could feel the warmth again. The need to cum and it was becoming harder and hard to resist it.

For one lucid moment you tried tearing out of his grip and pull yourself backwards, but he held you like a vice. Your pussy started to tighten around his cock as he continued to impale you.

"That's it" he growled as your climax build.

"Tell me what you want?"

Ashamed you tell him you want to cum. He released your hands and settled on your neck. Even with his grip on your throat you could still feel yourself about to explode.

You were so dizzy with pleasure you couldn't comprehend what he asked.

"Tell your president you want to cum all over his cock"

"Mr. President" you croaked. "Please let me cum Mr. President!"

"Good girl cum for me" as the words left his mouth you clinched his cock coming so hard you saw stars and stripes.

As you came his movements became erratic. The clinching of your pussy milked him. His cock twitch and pulse inside of you as he emptied himself into you. His arms gave out and he fell on-top of you crushing you under his weight. You both lay there exhausted, sweaty, falling into a slumber.

It wasn't long before you awoke. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed studying you.

"You know I think you might be right." He said as your eyes began to open. "I think a family lifestyle might not be what the nation is looking for in me."

"That post nut clarity...huh" he chuckled.

"Steve..." You try and croak out but he was already on your neck. You scratched and dug into his skin, but to no avail. Your vision became spotty and within seconds the lights were completely out.

Despite his buddies political victory Bucky was resigned to stay in his room. He was watching the broadcast of the announcement that was happening in the same hotel he was in.

He had been told to stay out of sight throughout Steve's campaign as to not tarnish the golden boys image.

Though he had long since been freed from HYDRA'S brainwashing and has more than once proven himself a patriot he still had to stay back.

*Ring Ring

When his cell phone lit up he was surprise to see that it was Steve.

"Congratulations Punk" he smirked over the phone.

"Ha" Steve laughed softly. "Can you come to my room if your free?"

When he arrived he wasn't surprised to see Y/N. This wasn't the first time he had been called to do clean up duty.

Rolling Y/N in the duvet and he got to work.

"Hey Buck" Steve called from the duvet bedroom.

Bucky turned to meet his friends gaze. Steve dug out your cell phone from his back pocket. He tosses it over to Bucky.

"Charlene too"

With a nod Bucky left the room with Y/N over his shoulder. Steve didn't need to worry about security cameras Tony would handle that. The agents at the door would be taken care of by Wanda.

As the elevator doors closed that’s when he felt it. The duvet moved.

#Dark Steve x rerader #Dark!Steve x Reader #Black Writers #smut #Dark Steve #Dark!Steve #Dark Steve x Reader #black writer #dark!steve x black!reader #dark steve x black!reader #dark steve x black reader #dark!steve x black reader

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sturchling · 4 years

Note

A class salt prompt, they no longer want Marinette as class rep. Tell her so she is okay with it. Bustier not so much but does as the class wants. The class agree that lila would do so much better. It's left to Alya as deputy to tell her. Marinette uses that she is no longer rep and wanted in class to switch classes.Only she forgets and que big trip to city flash is in. Sorry cannot think of it. Marinette new class wins.Lila tells Marinette stole her work.Bustier takes action only it backfires

Here you go, hope you like it!

I don’t know much about Flash or Central City, so it is a bit more vague when talking about him. Sorry! Researched him as much as I could.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this one!

The class had been unhappy with Marinette for a while. They thought that Marinette wasn’t the best fit for class rep anymore. She kept bullying and tormenting Lila. Sure, she did good with organizing fundraisers and came up with good trips, but that doesn’t excuse her behavior. They also thought that Lila would be a better class rep. With all her connections, she would be able to come up with better trips and fundraisers. One day the class met after school to talk about the class rep situation. Alya was the first to speak saying, “Ok guys. Let’s just cut to the chase. I think that we should remove Marinette as the class rep. Anybody disagree?” Nobody said a word. Alya continues, “Alright then. I think that we should talk about who we want as class rep instead. I vote Lila.” Lila who had been sitting quietly in the corner, trying to look innocent and sweet. At this moment, she speaks up, “If you guys think I would be a good fit. I would be happy to serve as class rep. But I don’t want to make Marinette upset.” The class fawned over her. “Lila you are so sweet!” “I can’t believe you would be worried about your bully. You are so kind.” “Of course, we think you would be a good class rep.” After everyone praised her, Alya continued the meeting, “Now, we just need to decide how to tell Marinette.” The class talked for a while, but eventually decided that Alya needed to be the one to tell Marinette. Alya is the class deputy and she was also Marinette’s best friend before she started bullying Lila. Alya agreed and said she would go to the bakery and tell Marinette. In the meantime, the rest of the class was going to head up to Mrs. Bustier’s room to tell her about the class’ decision and ask for an election the following morning.

----------------------

Alya arrived at the bakery and went inside. Marinette was in the bakery, helping her parents with the register. Marinette looked up and said, “Hello Alya.” Marinette was hardly ever excited to see her anymore. She didn’t even know Marinette anymore. Since Lila came, she was like a totally different person. Alya replied, “Hey Marinette. Can I talk to you for a second?” Marinette looked to her parents, who nodded telling the young girl it was ok. The two girls went up to the apartment and sat in the living room. Alya didn’t want to go all the way up to Marinette’s room, knowing she wouldn’t be here very long. Alya didn’t talk for a while, so Marinette started the conversation, “So, what did you want to talk about?” That got Alya talking, “Well, everyone in the class just had a meeting and we were talking about the class rep position. We all decided that we don’t think you are the best fit anymore. Sure, you have done a good job, but how you have been treating Lila is not cool. So, we all decided we would rather have Lila as our class rep. The rest of the class is talking to Mrs. Bustier now.” Marinette sat there in shock. Sure, she knew things had been rocky with her class mates for a while, but she never expected this. She couldn’t believe that her class thought so little of her. She had been working really hard to make sure the class had cool trips, and always had enough funds for any events they wanted. She started to tear up and quietly said, “Fine. Message received. Now please leave!” Alya was shocked. She didn’t think that Marinette would just accept it. She saw the tears forming in Marinette’s eyes and decided to leave like Marinette asked. She left the bakery and started walking back to the school to meet her friends.

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Mrs. Bustier was sitting at her desk after school, when the door to the classroom opened. Mrs. Bustier looked up and saw almost her entire class standing in the doorway. They walked in and Nino said, “Mrs. Bustier? We wanted to talk to you about the class rep position.” Mrs. Bustier was confused. It wasn’t time for the class election. They had just had one earlier in the year. But Mrs. Bustier said, “Of course Nino. What did you guys want to talk to me about?” Nino said, “Well, we were all talking and we decided that we want a re-election for class rep. We don’t think Marinette is a good fit anymore. We think Lila would be a better fit and we want to have another election.” Mrs. Bustier didn’t like the idea. Marinette was a great class rep. Lila wouldn’t be a good rep at all. Lila doesn’t mean to lie, but that lying disease has caused her to say several outlandish things. Now the class thinks Lila would be a good class rep, but she doesn’t have the right skills for it. She couldn’t tell the class anything though. She and the principal had decided to keep the disease a secret from the class so they wouldn’t ruin Lila’s chances of making friends and fitting in. So, Mrs. Bustier agreed to the class’ wishes reluctantly. Mrs. Bustier told them they would have the election in the morning. The class nominated Lila for the ballot and Mrs. Bustier told them that Marinette would still be on the ballot since she is the current class rep. Marinette technically didn’t need to be on the ballot, but Mrs. Bustier was hoping for the class to come to their senses overnight. But Mrs. Bustier had no idea what would happen the next morning.

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After Alya left, Marinette sat in the living room for a while. She was shocked about what had just happened. She just sat there and thought. She couldn’t understand how things had gotten so bad between her and her friends. Marinette came to realize that they hadn’t been friends for a while. None of them talked to her much anymore. They only really talked to her if they wanted something for the next class trip. Not even Adrien talked to her anymore, even though he knew that Lila was lying about everything. He didn’t want to be targeted like Marinette had been. Her parents eventually came up to check on her, since she had been gone for a while. They found her sitting on the couch, tearing up. They rushed over to comfort her and tried to ask what had happened. What had Alya told their daughter, to upset her? Eventually, Marinette told them what had been happening. Starting from when Lila began coming to school, up until today and what Alya had said. Tom and Sabine were horrified. They had no idea things had gotten so bad. They didn’t even no things were going bad at all. They spent all night talking with Marinette. They asked Marinette what she wanted to do. Marinette thought about it and said, “I think I want to switch classes. They don’t want me as class rep and they clearly don’t think of me as their friend anymore.” Tom and Sabine agreed and called the school to make the arrangements. By the next morning Marinette had officially changed to Mrs. Mendeleiev’s class

----------------------

The next morning Mrs. Bustier’s class met to hold the election. Mrs. Bustier started by saying, “Ok, so on the ballot we have Lila and Marinette running for class rep. Now how many votes for-” Before Mrs. Bustier could finish, Mr. Damocles walked in. He turned to Mrs. Bustier and said, “Sorry to interrupt you Mrs. Bustier but I needed to make you aware of a change that happened last night. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has switched classes. She won’t be in this class anymore; she is with Mrs. Mendeleiev now.” Mrs. Bustier and her class were shocked. They couldn’t believe that Marinette would just leave. The class thought she was just overreacting. Seriously, they just didn’t want her as class rep anymore. She didn’t need to switch classes. Mrs. Bustier stammered out her understanding and Mr. Damocles left. She turned to face the class again and continued, “Well. Since Marinette is no longer in this class, she can not be our class rep. So, she is removed from the ballot. That just leaves Lila. Congratulations Lila, you are the new class rep.” The class celebrated while Lila plotted. She was already coming up with reasons to leave the work to Alya. Alya was the deputy after all. Lila was snapped out of her scheming when she heard Mrs. Bustier from the front of the room, “Lila, you already have your first duty as class rep. There is a contest to win a trip to Central City for a week. The winning class will be excused from school, and the trip will be considered a field trip. It is an essay contest and the prompt is to talk about the hero of Central City, The Flash. You need to decide who will write the essay for the contest and make sure to help them if they need it.” Lila put on her brightest smile and said, “Don’t worry about the essay Mrs. Bustier. I will write it myself. I know so much about The Flash. I met him when I was abroad in America and I even helped him stop Captain Cold once.” While the class gushed over this new story, Mrs. Mendeleiev’s class was just beginning to discuss the contest. They had a very efficient manner in deciding these things. It was decided that Marinette should write the paper. She had the best writing skills, she had won contests like this before, and she knew the most about The Flash. With that decided, Mrs. Mendeleiev’s continued with their lessons.

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The contest submission deadline had passed about a week ago. The submissions were now being judged by none other than The Flash himself. He was the one to organize this contest with the mayor, and he wanted to read the essays. What better judge for a factual essay about The Flash than The Flash himself. He was going over the essays from a school in France. He had just read an atrocious essay by a Lila Rossi that had claimed she was on good terms with the hero and tried to say she had helped him defeat several of the local villains, like Captain Cold. This girl was a horrible liar, and it was funny to Barry that she was inadvertently lying about The Flash to The Flash. He was now reading an essay from Marinette Dupain-Cheng and found that it was excellent. After reading all the essays, he decided that Marinette’s class was the winner. He told the mayor, and the mayor called the French school.

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That Friday, Marinette got to school and her class was so excited, she wondered what was happening and they told her that their class had one the trip to Central City. Marinette became excited too. She was told they would be leaving on the plane, Monday and that they would return the following Saturday. As Mrs. Mendeleiev’s class continued to chat about the upcoming trip, Mrs. Bustier’s class was sulking. They couldn’t believe that they had lost. They wanted to ask Lila about what could have happened. They were sure they would win, since Lila was such good friends with The Flash. They had even proof read it for Lila because Lila was worried her grammar wouldn’t be good enough. But Lila hadn’t come to school today. She stayed home and was trying to come up with something to tell the class. She doesn’t understand how the essay didn’t win. She was sure that if she mentioned that she was friends with The Flash that the contest organizers would fall over themselves to please her. Lila eventually figured out a way to shift the blame from her, to Marinette. She decided to enact her plan on Monday.

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The following Monday, after Marinette and her class had left, Lila arrived to Mrs. Bustier’s class with crocodile tears streaming down her face. The class immediately forgot to ask her about the contest and was instead concerned about what had happened. Lila between sobs, said, “Marinette stole the essay I wrote for the contest. She submitted it as her own essay for the contest. I’m not sure how it happened, but she got the essay from my computer. She even texted me a picture of her submitting my essay. I’m so sorry guys, I messed everything up.” Lila then proceeded to sob while the class tried to comfort her. They were horrified. How could Marinette sink so low? That trip should be theirs! They were so angry at Marinette that they started to yell over each other. Mrs. Bustier came in and asked, “What is going on guys?” The class tells Mrs. Bustier what Lila had told them. Mrs. Bustier was initially skeptical and asked to speak to Lila in the hall. When they were alone, Mrs. Bustier asked, “Lila, are you sure that you are telling the truth? With your lying disease, you need to be sure.” Lila replied easily, “Yes, Mrs. Bustier. I am sure I am telling the truth. My lying disease only acts up in times of stress and I’m not stressed enough right now.” Mrs. Bustier slowly nodded her head and they went back into the class. She spoke to the class and said, “Class, I will take care of this. I need you not to talk about this too much. That will help me get this properly handled.” The class reluctantly agreed and they didn’t say anything around the school. They were still furious. Watching Marinette and her new class post pictures of the trip online only made them madder. Marinette had seen everything there is to see in Central City and even had met The Flash when he was fighting Abra Kadabra. With each new post, the class’ rage grew, and Lila became more jealous. Marinette was living Lila’s dream. She was meeting celebrities and heroes, while Lila sat at home. The class just kept waiting for when Marinette got back. They knew that Mrs. Bustier would straighten things out.

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Mrs. Bustier was unsure of what to do after hearing what Marinette had done. Before she did anything, she asked to see the text Marinette had sent Lila. She almost thought that Lila was lying and didn’t realize, but there it was. Lila had the text from Marinette, the text was real. Mrs. Bustier knew she needed to take action. She couldn’t believe her former start pupil could do this, but there was proof. Mrs. Bustier knew not to go to the principal. He wouldn’t do anything about it. He had proven that he was flakey when it came to punishments. And since the contest has ended and the trip is already underway, he wouldn’t see any reason to intervene. So, Mrs. Bustier went over his head and went directly to the Board of Education. She explained what had happened and showed them the text, and they agree to investigate. Mrs. Bustier felt confident that the situation would be handled and left.

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The board of education started by reaching out to Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s parents, asking to confirm if the number that sent the text was in fact their daughter’s number. They told them it wasn’t and they told the Board the correct number. The Board was confused and then searched for the phone number online, trying to find out where the texts came from. They discovered that the number that had sent the texts was another phone that Lila Rossi owned. The Board then became suspicious about Ms. Rossi and began looking into her. They pulled up her file and found that the contact information for her parents was fake as well. The Board went to the school the next day to discuss this with Mr. Damocles, which is when they first heard about the lying disease and the myriad of illnesses and disabilities that the girl supposedly had. They were shocked. How could this principal be so negligent? They put him on leave while they continued the investigation and were horrified at what they discovered. They learned about the rampant bullying in the school and how Mrs. Bustier refuses to intervene. Instead she punishes the victims and tells them to be a better example. By the end of the investigation, Mrs. Bustier and Mr. Damocles are fired. Lila Rossi is expelled for truancy and her mother ends up sending her to relatives back in Italy, so she can be watched more closely. Chloe’s bullying had improved, so she wasn’t expelled. She did receive several detentions and teachers were instructed to be far more strict with her. The investigation ended up changing the whole school.

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When Marinette’s new class returned, they found the school was very different from how they left it. They did not see Mrs. Bustier or Mr. Damocles anywhere. When they arrived in the classroom, the class saw a woman standing next to Mrs. Mendeleiev. Someone from the class asked, “What is going on?” The woman introduced herself, “My name is Mrs. Bisset, I am from the Board of Education. While you were away, a student from Mrs. Bustier’s class made some allegations against Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They said that Ms. Dupain-Cheng stole the winning essay from Ms. Rossi.” The class immediately began yelling, trying to defend their new friend. Everyone in Mrs. Mendeleiev’s class knew that Lila was a liar. Mrs. Bisset silenced the class with a wave of her hand. “The Board is well aware now, that the allegations were false. The investigation also turned up information that Mr. Damocles and Mrs. Bustier were negligent in their job and were not handling the situation correctly. They have been removed from their positions. The student who lied, Ms. Rossi has also been removed from the school. I wanted to let you know what had happened, so you don’t hear rumors from other students. If you have any questions, I am sure that Mrs. Mendeleiev will be willing to answer them. Have a good day.” With that Mrs. Bisset left the class. The class burst into chatter, talking about what had just been announced. Meanwhile Marinette was staring in shock. She couldn’t believe it. Lila Rossi’s kingdom of lies had fallen apart. It was over.

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Time went by, and Marinette moved on from her time in Mrs. Bustier’s class. She made new friends in Mrs. Mendeleiev’s class. She did eventually forgive the other student from Mrs. Bustier’s class, but they were never friends again. And she never heard from Lila

#ml fanfic #ml fic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #ml class salt #lila rossi #Lila exposed #lila gets exposed #lila exposed fic #lila salt #bustier salt #alya salt #alya cesaire #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous salt

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voldemorts-tap-shoes · 3 years

Text

My final entry for @romioneficfest - thank you again to everyone who took the time to vote!

Little Unicorns Daycare Center

Hermione had cared for many children in the three years since she had opened the Little Unicorns Daycare Center, and she had always been careful to be impartial and fair to every little boy and girl that walked through her doors.

But she couldn’t deny that Lily was one of her favorites.

The vivacious red-headed girl had been in her care for around six months, and it had been obvious from the start that she was different from the other kids. She was well ahead of the group on her reading comprehension, and she had a highly developed sense of humor for her age. She also loved to tell detailed, fantastical stories about magical creatures and people flying around on broomsticks, and Hermione was amazed at the depth of Lily’s imagination.

Hermione had only ever met Lily’s mother, Ginny, who shared her daughter’s long red hair and quick wit. Ginny was always in and out of the cottage in a hurry when she came to drop Lily off or pick her up, but she was always friendly enough. She knew that Ginny was in publishing, and her husband in law enforcement, jobs that surely kept them both very busy, so Hermione didn’t think anything of the quick visits.

It never struck her as odd, either, that she had never met Lily’s father; it was common for her to deal with one parent more than the other. She finally met him on a cold, snowy day, when the front door opened and Lily burst in, shedding her hat and gloves before she had even made it past Hermione’s desk, and a tall, gorgeous red-headed man trailing behind her.

He smiled apologetically as he bent to pick up Lily’s things to hand to her. “Sorry about that. Is she always like this?”

Hermione’s fingers brushed against his as she took the gloves, and she was surely imagining the spark that ignited her skin at the contact.

“Oh, it’s um…” Hermione unconsciously raised her hand to flatten her bushy hair before scolding herself. This man was married, and it surely did not matter how her hair looked. “It’s finger paint day. I’m sure she’s just excited.”

“Oh, that explains it, then. Can’t say I blame her.”

He gave her another brilliant smile, and she melted as she looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. Lily had bright eyes, too, but hers were an almost unnatural shade of green. Ginny’s, if Hermione remembered correctly, were brown, and for a fleeting moment, she hoped that maybe the man was a family friend or something. But then she saw the shiny gold detective's badge pinned to his trousers, and the hair color, of course, was unmistakable. Even so, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Will you be picking Lily up this afternoon?”

“Nah, Gin just had an early meeting this morning. She’ll get her later, like normal.”

Hermione hoped that her disappointment wasn’t glaringly obvious. Her instant attraction to this man was undeniable, but it was also incredibly inappropriate. He was a parent of one of her charges, for goodness sake! Hermione put on the most neutral smile she could muster and then motioned to a pile of papers that she was certain were nothing more than coloring sheets. “Okay, I hope you have a lovely day. If you’ll excuse me, I really should get back to work.”

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He leaned to the side to look through the open doorway into the playroom beyond the lobby. “Bye, Lil! Be good!”

Hermione heard no response from the adjacent room, but he turned without one and gave a slight wave of goodbye to Hermione before heading back out into the cold.

It was several weeks before she saw him again. Lily again raced through the door while her father ambled in behind her and smiled at Hermione. “Must be finger-paint day again,” he said teasingly as he approached the desk. “I realize I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Ron.” He held out his hand for Hermione to shake, and she took it, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm.

“Hermione.” Their hands remained linked for just an instant longer than was probably proper, and Hermione forced herself to break their gaze. “Lily’s a wonderful child,” she said, determined to focus on the little girl.

“Yeah, she’s a hoot. She—“ Ron cut himself off with a frown and fished a buzzing pager from his coat pocket. “Sorry, duty calls.” She caught another glimpse of his badge and nodded in understanding. “Nice to see you again.”

“You, too.” Hermione lifted her hand in farewell, and she was so distracted by the view of him from behind that it completely slipped her mind that Ron was not the name of the other parent on Lily’s paperwork.

She saw Ron several more times over the following months, and he was always so charming with her. Hermione was horribly embarrassed by her attraction to another woman’s husband—though she had noticed that he didn’t wear a ring—and even worse, the fact that the feeling seemed to be mutual. She wanted to believe that it was just his personality, that he was the outgoing type, and not that he was a man who would shamelessly flirt with other women. He didn’t seem to be the sort who would do such a thing. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit to herself how unseemly her behavior was. Either way, Lily would be moving on to kindergarten soon, and she could forget all about Ron.

Usually, if she saw Ron, it was at Lily’s morning drop-off, so Hermione was surprised when he appeared one afternoon at pick-up time. He was quieter than usual, not his typical cheery self. “Lily!” Hermione called to the other room. “Time to go!”

“Coming!” the little girl hollered back as Ron approached her desk.

“Hi,” he said, his tone soft. She didn’t know him all that well, even now, but he actually sounded nervous. “So, I um...wanted to ask you something?”

Hermione’s heart started pounding, and she rubbed her palms against her jeans anxiously. “Sure,” she replied, and she hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.

He hesitated and then blurted out, “Are you free for dinner tonight?” He must have registered the look of shock on her face at his overt invitation, and he began to ramble. “I’ve got to take Lily home, but after that, or—or maybe this weekend we could—“

Hermione gave a vehement shake of her head and lowered her voice to hiss at him, “That is wildly inappropriate!” As much as she couldn’t deny that there was a chemistry between them, acting on it was a whole different matter.

“I—“ He seemed taken aback by the severity of her response. “I can take the rejection, but...inappropriate?”

She looked at him incredulously. “Yes. I don’t make it a habit to fraternize with—“

“Uncle Ron!” Lily’s exclamation and pounding footsteps cut her off and stopped her cold. The little girl threw her arms around one of Ron’s long legs, and he reached down to pat her head.

“Hey, kiddo. Have a good day today?”

Lily nodded. “Where’s mummy?”

“Waiting at home, and your dad is picking up your brothers.”

She then glanced at Hermione before gazing up at Ron with a knowing look beyond her years. “Did you come just to say hi to Miss Hermione?” Lily half-covered her mouth to whisper loudly to Hermione, “My mummy says he fancies you.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Here she had been berating herself all these months for nothing. She wracked her brain, but she couldn’t recall Lily ever mentioning her father or Ron by name, and she had never addressed him directly until now. She had just assumed that Ron was off-limits, and couldn’t remember ever being so pleased to be wrong.

Ron’s face was red with embarrassment, but he was still smiling shyly at her, and the look was incredibly endearing. “Did you really think I was her dad? Haven’t you ever met Harry?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, I haven’t, actually. I saw your badge and, well, your hair—I just assumed.”

“So...any chance that changes your mind about dinner?” he asked hopefully.

Hermione crouched down to the ground and motioned Lily over. “Maybe you could tell your Uncle Ron,” she said in a stage whisper, “that I fancy him, too?”

Lily nodded eagerly before scampering back over to Ron. “Uncle Ron! Miss Hermione said she fancies you.”

Hermione straightened and beamed at Ron. “Seven okay?”

“Tonight?” Hermione nodded; she didn’t want to wait any longer to get to know him better. “Brilliant. Seven it is.”

He took Lily’s hand and led her toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Hermione with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

🦄🦄🦄

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron x hermione #romione ficfest 2021

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

Text

Asynchronous With You: Ch 6

ship: naruhina

rating: teen (quite possibly mature or explicit later)

tags: Modern Day AU, Foster Siblings, Family, Angst, Unrequited Love, Poor Communication, Missed Opportunities

summary: An awkward journey full of self-denial and missed moments between two foster siblings. Perhaps their love will find the right timing someday.

"I think everyone should know," she said.

They were walking the usual route to their high school, the train station coming up ahead. Naruto kept a protective though furtive gaze on Hinata as he walked behind her on the steps.

He swore she's never modified her skirt. It would be against the dress code she's forced to protect. So he has no idea why it feels like he's seeing more of her than usual.

"Know what?"

Usually he's already doing this, because he's worried about perverts. Even in grade school, he was worried. If it weren't for their teachers educating them on Stranger Danger, he probably would have had to do it himself.

He had to learn it the hard way before Kurenai-obasan took him in, but so did Neji apparently. That's why he's gotten good at being less obvious with his suspicion, and also why he can better tell apart intent based on their body language.

He used to perceive everything around him to be potentially malicious. He never realized the toll that had been taking on him until Neji taught him how to really see.

He stood close behind her on the platform as they waited.

"That we're fosters."

A burst of wind shot through the platform, ruffling overcoats and business suits and whipping pleated skirts and loose hair in a sudden frenzy.

The PA announced the train's arrival, and it wheezed to a stop soon after.

He observed Hinata as she flattened her skirt down and smoothed her bangs, but none of it registered in his brain.

It was simply auto-pilot for him to follow her onto the train, then using his larger frame to block the other passengers from nearing his little sister.

Right. His foster sister.

In all of their nine years together, they've never told anyone. It wasn't that it seemed weird, it just… never occurred to them?

But now it did seem pretty weird.

"Why, though? In a couple years, it's not going to matter anymore."

She turned her face against her shoulder to look at him, but he didn't know what she was thinking. It was the same schooled features she put on last night when visiting Neji, like there was a one-way mirror and only she could see through him.

Then she looked away.

"You're not going to introduce a girlfriend to Kurenai one of these days?"

"Hmm?" The suggestion bloomed in his mind and quickly withered. The idea wasn't… very appealing. Something about inviting judgment onto his life and stuff. He defends himself in every aspect but at home, and he'd rather keep coasting on the good thing he's got. "Dunno. Hadn't ever thought about it."

He certainly wasn't going to introduce any of the one's he's taken to bed when the apartment was empty. He's rarely done it with the same girl twice, mainly because he can't help but lose interest.

He blames it on sexual incompatibility.

"Well, I know I will."

He misses the melancholy hedging around her words, and latches onto the opportunity for an easy ribbing.

"You're gonna bring a girlfriend over?" he's happy she shoots him a look so that she can see his corny grin, otherwise he worried she might've mistaken him for serious.

He's nonplussed by the severity of her glare, but then she says "Maybe when you're not around," and he no longer knows what to think.

"Wait, what? Hinata?" He's craning left and right in hopes of catching a smirk or a giggle from her, but she's evasive. Has she? "Hinata, are you--?" And since third grade she said? "Also, what's that supposed to mean 'when I'm not around'? Huh? Hey, what's that supposed to mean 'when I'm not around'?? Hinata???"

"We're getting off topic--"

"Bullshit! I have questions!"

She ignored him.

"I vote to tell our friends that we're fosters. And I'd like to have it taken care of during Lunch. What's your vote?"

Is this what she sounds like during her Public Morals Committee meetings? Because it was doing something to him.

Oh, right. She wanted an honest answer.

But… "What do you get out of announcing this? I mean, aside from knowing how to introduce me in the future or whatever. Have you thought this through at all?"

What's the rest of the school going to say?

The guys who share their skin mags with him might get wary and reject him. The girls he's dumped might try to get to him through her. Teachers might give up on disciplining him, essentially offloading their responsibilities onto her as both Public Morals Committee and his sister. And he wasn't having any of that shit again.

All kinds of things could bite them in the ass one way or another.

She hasn't replied to him at all, and he thinks she's upset again, but he has to make his point.

"Hinata, the way things are now isn't broken, so what are you trying to fix?"

"It would help me."

"Huh? How? With what?" He waited, and she was silent. A drop of dread sank in his chest for her. "So something is wrong," He leaned in closer, causing her to shrink. He sighed. "Hinata, for someone who wants the world to know we're fosters, you sure don't seem willing to rely on me like a sibling."

"I don't favor Neji-niisan over you."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to," Tension clutched at their throats. "People always have more history with their blood. I can't really compete, y'know?"

He can't compete at all, actually.

Sometimes he thinks his only true brother is Sasuke, but he still wants to work at this. She just has to let him.

"I'm sorry. I just thought it would be less lonely if we could talk to each other normally again. And we only see each other at school these days, so…"

He envisioned her waving to him in the halls between periods, or her having a reason to cheer him on during a deadlift tournament. It would prevent people from making the wrong idea about them.

Damn, he felt stupid now.

"Fine!" He intoned with mock-annoyance. "If it'll make you happy."

She looked over her shoulder again, and what she found was his warm, supportive smile.

________________________

Hinata gathered her friends, Kiba, Shino, Ino and Sakura.

And he gathered his friends, Sasuke, Shikamaru, and Chouji.

Ino had tsked in distaste when she saw Sasuke, had gone as far as to drag Sakura away so that the others sat in-between them. He caught some sort of nickname from her lips, but wasn't sure what she had really said.

As Naruto stood before them alongside Hinata, his gaze fell on the skinny lad scribbling away at his sketchbook, and immediately his fight instinct was switched on.

"What's your monochromatic ass doing here??! Did anyone invite him?!" He jabbed a finger in Sai's direction.

The monotone, softboy, little creep didn't even look up.

"I'm making a record of these proceedings for posterity," he lifted the sketchpad and flipped it around.

Inkified Naruto was pointing right back at him with an agape snarl. Sai then proceeded to show everyone else individually, and they all cracked up, one by one.

Ino was absolutely dying. Stomach-clutching and tears rolling, the whole nine yards. She snatched the sketchpad from Sai and begged if she could keep it.

"Whaddya want that for??" Naruto interrogated. He was so about to punch Sai and throw his art supplies in the pool. This was Hinata's announcement and the softboy was ruining it.

Ino mockingly tilted the sketchbook side to side. "Something to keep your ego in check, Charato."

Hinata faintly snorted. He wasn't sure until he saw how she had her face turned around and her shoulders were lightly trembling.

He frowned at her, feeling betrayed.

"Ahhhh, alright, enough! Me and Hinata have gathered you all here for a reason! So shut up and listen! Hinata, tell them!"

Hinata jolted out of her humor, her face flushing as though this were the first time she's done public speaking.

"Uh, Uhm… Naruto-kun and I… we're foster siblings. We, uh… we live together," Hinata froze up under their collective stares. With a stiff smile, she half-heartedly sang "Ta-da," and punctuated it with rather embarrassed jazz hands.

"And as our friends, you're the first to know," Naruto added. "Also we don't care if the whole school finds out. So don't worry, we're not sharing this out of confidentiality."

Their collective shock evaporated rather quickly.

Sakura was the first to speak. "Well, that answers a lot of questions. And raises plenty more." She ended it with a growl and a glare. That accusatory look irked him.

"Feel free to ask away! I've got nothin' to hide!"

Sakura flattened the back of her skirt as she rose up like a dignitary representing The House of Hyuuga. And then like a certain video game attorney, she pointed at him.

"I always wondered why you obsessively protected Hinata in the past, but never showed any romantic initiative towards her. Now I have to ask, knowing the sex maniac that you are: Do you ever sneak into her bedroom?"

"No," He answered unconvincingly. He looked at the jury one by one, unsure how much of their scrutiny was sincere or misperceived. Sasuke was leaning forward, arms circling around his knees. He looked a little too interested in the idea of him and Hinata… doing things… "I-I've never done that! I would never do that! Hinata's special to me, okay?! You've got a filthy fuckin' mind, Haruno!"

"Me?! You've tried to sneak into the female locker rooms!" Sakura took off her shoe and slugged it at him. "Multiple times!"

Naruto hunched up and twisted away as the shoe smacked his shoulder and bounced away.

Hinata moved in between him and the one-woman mob. "Okay, this is getting out of hand--"

"I will never fucking do that to Hinata. I was in an orphanage for six years. And they're not all run by saints."

Dammit.

This was way more than he ever wanted to share.

He took a few steps back before turning tail. He jogged downhill as fast as he could.

What was he doing?

Uzumaki Naruto doesn't run away.

But it was either that, or… have them watch him cry.

________________________

AN: So this is missing a scene cuz I cut it. I might not use it anymore, and instead I'll see if the backstory I had expanded upon will be worked in later on in the plot. Because before I started writing this, I had anticipated that things would actually get cuter from here on out. (Also anticipating that I may work in at least one smutty chapter in the future. Yeah, it's totally diverging from this fic's original concept when I posted it for Secret Santa, but that's okay!) And the total Ego Death I unexpectedly wrote just feels kind of Deus Ex Machina in a way to Naruto's vices. I just can't have him maturing right now. That's a plot route I don't have any material for, and I don't quite see it as not defeating the other stuff I had planned to write. (I'm also happy to state that I'm starting to get a better picture of how to condense this content on AO3, because I honestly feel like this could be Ch. 2 now. :B I mean, it's too short on its own if I do, but it kinda has that hook for the rest of the story.)

I hope you enjoyed this update! 😘💕💕💕

#asynchronous with you fanfiction #chapter 6 #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina #naruto x hinata #modern au

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passionfruitbowls · 3 years

Text

Adrinette April Day 6 - Anime

@adrinetteapril

Rated: G Word count: 834

Read on AO3

—————————

Marinette yelped in surprise and staggered backwards as a car zoomed past her out of nowhere, the driver honking its horn angrily. Thankfully there was no more oncoming traffic, so she crossed the street once she’d gathered her thoughts, although she was still a bit shaken. She had overslept again that morning and was now trying to think of a new excuse to come up with for Miss Bustier (she was pretty sure that the toucan story she’d told last time hadn’t been convincing).

Luckily, however, Marinette managed to arrive at her form classroom with five minutes to spare. She sighed with relief, and was about to sit down when she saw that there seemed to be a bit of a commotion going on. Adrien and Nino were in the middle of a heated discussion (or was it… an argument? No, it couldn’t have been) while Alya sat watching them with a despondent look on her face.

“What’s going on?” Marinette whispered as she plonked herself down in her chair.

“They’re having a debate over which popular anime is ‘superior’, apparently.” Alya replied. “Right now they’re torn between Sailor Moon and Naruto.”

Marinette frowned.

“Seriously? That’s not even a hard one! Sailor Moon is obviously better.”

She must have spoken a bit too loudly, because suddenly Nino and Adrien both turned round in their seats to look at her.

“You see? Even Marinette agrees with me!” Adrien declared proudly, smiling as if he had just been given a badge of honour. Nino gasped and pointed a finger at Marinette.

“I knew it! You are a magical girl enthusiast.” He said.

“What does that even mean?”

Adrien rolled his eyes and spoke up again.

“What’s so special about Naruto anyways? What do they do?”

“Dude, it’s literally about a kid who’s a ninja and dreams of becoming the leader of his village like his dad!” Nino said. “How is Sailor Moon better than that?”

Marinette was stumped - that did sound considerably better, to be fair. But Adrien was determined to get his point across.

“It’s got teens our age who have to protect the universe from evil with magic powers!” Adrien exclaimed.

“Plus it’s got really cool transformation sequences!” Marinette added, exchanging smiles with Adrien.

“Dude, there are tons of shows like that.” Nino said with a sigh. “Heck, we’ve got our own pair of magical girls right here in Paris.”

“There’s talking cats, too. Not to mention plenty of romance.” Adrien added on, wiggling his eyebrows playfully at the word ‘romance’. Marinette giggled while Nino just gave him a confused look.

“I love you, man, but sometimes I really don’t understand your taste…”

Adrien laughed and bent down to open his schoolbag; a second later he pulled out a pencil along with a small notepad.

“Tell you what,” he said, “we’ll do a show of hands, and whichever anime gets the most votes wins. Does that sound fair?”

Marinette and Nino both nodded, and watched Adrien as he scribbled down the names of both shows with a gap in between for tally marks.

“Alright, first up is Sailor Moon. Any votes?”

As if on queue, Marinette raised her hand at the same time as Adrien, and he winked up at her as he put down two tally marks beside the words ‘Sailor Moon’. She blushed and averted her eyes to look out the window for a moment - never in all her life had she imagined being in a debate with Adrien, least of all a debate about anime.

“Ok, now Naruto. Have I got any more votes?”

Nino stuck his hand up and then looked at Alya expectantly.

“Nope, sorry! I refuse to be dragged into this.” She said, folding her arms and leaning back in her seat as if she was literally trying to distance herself from them. Adrien wrote down a single tally mark and put his notebook away, beaming with pride.

“Sailor Moon takes the win!”

He reached his hand out to offer Marinette a high five, which she returned, leaving her with butterflies in her stomach. She just touched his hand!

After the bell for the first class had rung and they had been registered, they all went out into the hallway and made their way to the room where their first lesson was. Suddenly, Marinette felt someone elbow her gently in the ribs, letting out a quiet yelp of surprise when she saw that it was Adrien.

“So, Marinette,” he began, “do you think I would be a good magical girl?”

She paused and began to imagine what Adrien would look like wearing a typical magical girl outfit, wondering what colour scheme would suit him best, when all of a sudden he struck a pose as if he was one of the Sailor Soldiers and had just transformed.

“How’s this?” He asked, putting on his best happy face. Marinette burst out laughing and shook her head at him.

“Very good.” She said. “You should consider trying it out sometime.”

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinetteapril2021 #adrinette april 2021 #miraculous ladybug fanfic #my writing

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Apple Of My Pie (5) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story Chapter 5.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers; angst, very little fluff

Rating: suggested 18+

Trigger Warnings: swearing, slight anxiety, verbal fight, generic allusions to sex.

A/N: Hello my cupcakes! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: As Jin and Grace grow more intimate, Buttercup realises she needs a way out of her situation, and Namjoon and Jeongguk offer her just that. However, as the events develop, she understands that her decision needs to be even more drastic. Jeongguk teaches Seokjin a very tough lesson — maybe the toughest of them all.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing. Allusions to sex; accidental overhearing. Seokjin is kind of a jerk, Jeongguk is very angry at him. Verbal fight. Buttercup feels slightly anxious/panics at the thought of going back to the apartment.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

If you’d like some company, here is the music companion (Spotify only, sorry 😔)

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

There were things you never thought you would have to do, things that made you realise the absurdity of your position, the complete stupidity of the circumstances.

Real people don’t need to handle this. Real people live banal lives, date, fall in love, break up. Or get married, have kids, grow up and grow old together.

Real people aren’t awake at four am because their crush’s date is mewling from the opposite side of the apartment.

You didn’t want to ask yourself questions.

You wanted to sleep and possibly wake up cold. That is, dead.

She mewled. Of course, not actually cat sounds but rather that kind of small, shy squeals that usually mean “I’m shy but I love whatever this person is doing”.

You didn’t allow yourself to dig into that.

You just turned to the other side and pressed the spare pillow against your head, trying to mute the sounds — and maybe mute your thoughts in the process.

Maybe accidentally suffocate yourself.

It was ridiculous.

This had happened about a month ago, with reversed roles — you being the squealer and Seokjin being the unfortunate listener.

You wondered whether he had felt just like you were feeling at that moment.

You thought about wearing your headphones and blasting some music. You thought about rushing out of the apartment and smashing the door on your way out.

You knew you had no one to call, no one who could rescue you at four am on a winter night, sheltering you from the shards of your heart precipitating and stabbing your guts.

Maybe you were allucinating. Maybe it was the sound of your pulse getting too loud because you didn’t trust yourself breathing without emitting a sob.

No, it was the headboard. There was no other way to explain the thumping.

You turned and grabbed your phone, sending a hopeless shout in the void. Just a text to the one most likely to answer, even though the chances were pretty thin.

Are you awake? Perhaps?

The thumping subdued.

Your vision blurred as you stared and stared, occasionally tapping the screen and praying for a miracle.

You thought you had fallen asleep, trapped in a nightmare, when a small bubble appeared.

On the hunt. We’re just back from Mulbreigh field. I guess you’re home?”

You shook yourself up and got moving, not even caring to keep quiet. The thumping had resumed, and so had the mewling.

At Ginger’s in five.

Gotcha.

You did exit the apartment in a few minutes, grabbing just the bare necessities, and closing the door quietly.

By now you were familiar with nightly runaways.

And you were also familiar with the trio headed toward you.

“Buttercup, is that you?” A calm, familiar voice asked.

“Joon?”

“Yeah, it’s us. We have just one field left.” He said. “We’re hoping to get the last one in time for the meteor shower.”

You raised your eyebrows. “There’s a meteor shower tonight?”

The other man at Namjoon’s side was a vet from a city nearby, who occasionally helped him track new wild animals that inhabited the area. “Yes. At around five am. It will be barely visible, but it will be there. Nice to see you, Buttercup.”

“Hello Marcus, always a pleasure.” You said kindly, still shaking your head at the nickname. Shortly after, you noticed the third man greeting you. “Hi Buttercup!”

“Hello Guk!” You said. “How many did you find?”

“We found three owls and got them chipped and registered. And we found a new fox, just out of Mulbreigh. We’re going to track him or her soon, hopefully. No wolves, fortunately.”

You smiled. “That’s good news!” You said enthusiastically, thinking about how the farmer would have menaced those. The four of you walked toward the last location, taking a long path stretching north.

“We’re hoping to find deers, honestly. Remember when we found that doe, last year? Apparently she found a way to remove her tracker and we’re hoping we can keep her monitored, just in case she has more fawns this year.” Marcus explained, at which you nodded in interest.

Staying focused allowed you to remove some thoughts from your mind, but at the same time you kept yourself out of their way, letting the experts work, following them from a distance as they combed the field and placed pheromones signals around the area, hoping to attract the doe to the trees near the field, where it was easier to find her traces and where it was potentially easier to catch her.

“There’s no point going on here,” commented Marcus. “We can only wait. It might take weeks.”

Namjoon huffed and nodded. “Oh, there!” He said, pointing up. A white sign resembling a scratch slashed the horizon in the west, Jeongguk whipping his head in the direction, his pretty eyes widening in wonder as he saw one more shooting star zoom through the sky lighting up at dawn in such delicate shades, from rose to periwinkle to deep royal blue.

For a moment you stared at the sky, feeling its immensity, peace and beauty heal you slowly and steadily. How could such tiny human matters affect its infinity? You let your eyes drown in the greatness of everything, with the snowcaps rimmed in gold in the distance, and the meteors becoming invisible as the sky finally became too bright.

“Guk, Buttercup, why don’t you head home while me and Marcus drive back at the cabin and finish up the paperwork?” Namjoon suggested, by now extremely used to his routine.

Jeongguk looked intermittently at you and Namjoon, adorably confused before he nodded.

“Okay.” He agreed.

You smiled timidly before thanking him, the two of you starting your walk back to town. It was a thirty minute trek, at worst, but you were both fast walkers and in twenty-five you reached his small house. Bibby, his large, scary dog — who of course is a sweetheart, just like his owner — welcomed both of you, the oversized puppy throwing himself at you and barking just once before Jeongguk shushed him.

“How come you joined us?” Jeongguk asked, uncapping his orange juice bottle and pouring a glass, offering you some while you shook your head and declined politely.

You crossed your arms, your stance becoming defensive. You fidgeted and tried to speak, starting a couple times before stopping and starting again, trying to build an actual sentence.

Jeongguk looked at you and waited patiently. He was familiar with the blabbering, stuttering and reformulating.

“Okay. Don’t say this to Yoongi, but… Yeah, he took Grace home last night— That is, he brought her to the apartment and they… Slept together?” You said, your voice so squeaky by the time you said the final word.

“And by ‘sleeping’ you mean everything but, right?” Jeongguk asked tactfully.

You nodded and looked at the floor, busying yourself petting Bibby.

“I’m so sorry, Buttercup.” He said, coming close to you and caressing your back soothingly.

You didn’t have the energies to cry. You probably would, in a while, after waking up.

“You need some sleep, don’t you, Buttercup?” Jeongguk asked, patting your head.

Again you replied wordlessly, moving your head in approval.

“Bibby is a great nap buddy, and I can get the futon ready and let you sleep there.” He reassured you, already fluffing up the pillows and grabbing an extra blanket.

“I’d like to sleep on the sofa, please?” You said, sitting down and removing your shoes, Bibby immediately getting interested in your wiggling toes.

“Oh, you’d like that?” He asked in surprise, “try it first, I can still get the futon ready if you don’t like this old guy.” He joked about the piece of furniture.

You laid on your side, wiggling a little as you found the right position. “Can do.” You said with a barely-there smile. “Thank you, Guk.”

“It’s okay.” He said, throwing the blanket on top of you. “This one is just for guests. I washed it last weekend, don’t worry.” He reassured you.

Knowing Jeongguk, you didn’t even mind. He is a neat freak and a tattoo artist: cleanliness means everything to him. “Can I seriously keep Bibby?” You asked, soft eyed.

He beamed and nodded. “He only sleeps on the sofa.” He said proudly and, as if following his owner’s praise, Bibby climbed on the cushions, curling up in the space before you and laying his head on your arm, using it as a pillow.

You giggled and scratched the spot behind his ear.

“Ask me if you need anything.” Jeongguk murmured. “I’ll leave my door open, just in case you need help or something.” He commented sweetly, closing the blinds to the several windows before walking to the kitchen and coming back to you, placing a bottle of water close to you.

He noticed Bibby was already asleep and he caressed the dog’s head before whispering “sleep tight”.

You heard him leave the room. You closed your eyes, feeling Bibby’s lungs inflate and deflate regularly, his heartbeat strong, his short fur velvety and relaxing under your fingertips.

You fell asleep like a baby.

Waking up meant a lot of things happening altogether.

Realising Bibby was in your arms.

Realising you were on Jeongguk’s sofa.

Realising you were heartbroken and that the idea of going back home nauseated you so deeply you couldn’t even remotely consider it.

Jeongguk greeted you from the kitchen. “You’re up, Buttercup!” He cheered, while Bibby turned around and placed his big head under your chin, shading his eyes. He always marvelled you with his curious manners. “It’s midday, would you like brunch?”

You sniffed the air. Bacon and eggs.

“Yes, please.”

Bibby seemed to follow your lead, sniffing the air and running to his owner, acting way faster than you.

“Okay, what do we wanna do?” Jeongguk asked once you were both seated at the kitchen table.

You ate some food, chewing quietly as you thought. You took your time.

“Honestly, I don't feel like going home, I guess.” You said, staring at your dish. You felt a bit lost.

“We can hang out. Watch TV, meet the guys, do anything you want.” Jeongguk said.

“I was thinking of… No, it's okay, I should go home.”

“But you don't want to.” Jeongguk opposed.

“No, but I don't want to go back later tonight and find myself dreading sleeping in my room.” You said. You couldn't explain the emptiness in your stomach as you thought of the room.

“You know you can stay here as long as you want, right? I have a spare room. We can put the futon there.” He said touching your hand.

That small sentence felt like the water threatening to drown you was slowly lowering.

“I don't want to abuse your kindness.” You admitted shyly, softly.

“I am your friend. It is my duty to help you” He reassured you.

You mulled over your various possibilities. “Okay. But I'd like to go home and grab some stuff. Maybe they're not around.” You considered, looking at Jeongguk doubtfully.

“It's okay. We can go together.”

You exhaled in relief.

Standing in front of the apartment door, you took a deep breath, Jeongguk rubbing his hand between your shoulder blades, over your jacket.

You could already hear them laughing and chatting.

You slipped the keys into the lock and opened the door.

“I'll wait here, yes?” Jeongguk reassured you.

You nodded and went in, walking to your room hesitantly, only to be completely overwhelmed by the sight in the kitchen.

Jin was standing behind Grace, helping her prepare his special avocado sandwich, an elaborate mug topped with whipped cream and crushed almonds waiting beside her while the breakfast table was filled with any kind of breakfast and brunch food one could only dream of.

However, what truly unsettled you was Grace, wearing an oversized shirt — Jin's — bare-legged, with Granny's thick handmade socks covering her feet and calves.

Seokjin said something in her ear and she giggled cutely, throwing her head back and leaning into his shoulder.

They ignored you completely, caught in their happy bubble, while you hid slightly.

You refused to hold on, rushing back to the front door.

Jeongguk spoke softly. “Where's your stuff?”

You shook your head.

“I'm coming with you.” He said, placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside, closing the door noisily.

“Hello, we're here.” He called loudly, bringing the two of you to the kitchen.

Seokjin's eyes zeroed in to the place the man's voice had come from, spotting you instead.

So this is it, he thought.

He. Grace.

You. Jeongguk.

Jeongguk?

His jaw contracted.

“Buttercup came by to grab some things. It won't take long, will it, sweets?”

You widened your eyes at him and shook your head. “Yes, sure.”

You almost ran to your bedroom, picking up the most basic stuff to spend a night out and to head off to lessons the following morning.

In the bathroom, you collected your toothbrush and beauty products before returning to the kitchen, your bag ready.

“Good to go, sweets?” He questioned, looking at you with his expressive, gleeful eyes.

You nodded and gave him the tiniest of smiles. “Let's go.”

Jeongguk turned towards Jin and Grace. “Have a nice afternoon, goodbye!” He greeted, letting you wave at the two before dragging you out, not before offering Seokjin a smug grin and winking.

Wearing that mask took a toll on him. He hated what Seokjin had done to you through the years, acting like a protective older brother without being one. He hated that the man kept you emotionally busy and never let you out of his influence. Most of your past relationships had dramatically been brought to an end by Seokjin's asphyxiating presence, by the incapability of your partners to rival with your best friend.

He had ruined you for everyone else, and Jeongguk couldn't find any words to define how cruel that was.

“Are you doing okay, Buttercup?” He asked.

You smiled a bit coldly.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” He opened the door and let you in, Bibby welcoming the both of you.

“It's okay. They've been dating for more than a month now. He's been by himself for a long time–”

“But he had you!” Jeongguk objected as he took off his jacket.

Your mouth stretched sadly. “Not like that.”

Jeongguk scrunched his nose in disappointment. “Okay. You know I’ve had the biggest crush over you. And we know that by now it’s just water under the bridge. And maybe I never told you but it was so easy to get over you — no offence — since to me, actually to all of us, you and Jin have always belonged to each other. It’s canon. Anyone else would be wrong for the two of you. Obviously.”

You completely ignored Jeongguk’s mention of those old feelings. You already knew; it was all water under the bridge — just like he said — and the two had discussed it years ago. Instead, you focused on the belonging part. “He has Grace now. They’ve been dating for what? Six weeks?”

“He’s been in love with you for four years!” Jeongguk said, slightly upset.

“Well, apparently he didn’t do a great job of showing that! And it doesn’t matter now. He has Grace.” You repeated.

“The two of you are so stupidly dumb, I need to call Yoongi.” Jeongguk said, absolutely frustrated.

Silence lingered heavy in the room, like a thick fog. “Don’t call Yoongi, please.” You said, sitting on the sofa and curling up in a ball. “He’ll scold me and then snap at Jin and then Spice will kill all of us for stressing him and interrupting their kinky Sunday afternoon.”

Jeongguk startled and put down the phone. “Kinky Sunday afternoon? Is that a thing?”

“With Spice, anything is a thing, especially if it means alone time with Yoongi.” You explained, scratching your nose and hugging Bibby as he got on the sofa.

“Okay. Let’s think about happier, less traumatising things. Do you wanna watch some TV? I have some Disney DVDs from when Namjoon comes over. No Bambi and Dumbo because those make him cry.” Jeongguk said, exposing his friend shamelessly. “And I don’t want to pay for Disney plus, Yoongi would disown me and I would never tattoo him anymore and I don’t want that.”

You giggled, completely endeared. “Do you think you have Tangled?”

“Oh, yes!” Jeongguk checked the case and placed the CD in his PlayStation. “Namjoon loves Pascal. The chameleon.” Jeongguk gushed, sitting on the sofa, switching on a small lamp. “Oh, would you like some popcorn?” He asked, ever friendly and welcoming.

You smirked before nodding.

Pausing the film, he dashed to the kitchen, getting a bag into the microwave and coming back five minutes later with a large bowl, the whole room smelling of salted butter.

You hummed in approval and settled down, Bibby miraculously uninterested in the snack. He restarted the film and your mind got completely absorbed by that.

Seokjin was confused.

He had accompanied Grace home, and now he sat in an empty room — an empty house —, looking at the opposite end of the table, where you weren’t sitting.

Did you sleep with Jeongguk for revenge?

Did you maybe talk to him and he made his move and you said ‘why not’, just like you had with that dude almost a month ago?

Maybe you liked him. Maybe you had always liked him and the two of you had confessed — he had a different gleam in his eyes and he had called you ‘sweetie’ or some other dumb nickname like that.

He should have confessed. He should have stopped hiding his head in his ass and should have grown a pair and told you, Buttercup, I’m so far gone that I’d be ready to serve you for the rest of my life, hell, I’d even donate you my sperm if your husband was infertile and you wanted kids. I’d even give up a kidney, fuck, I’d give up my heart too for you.

He was a dumb, stupid fucker.

He wrote you a text.

I’m sorry about fucking Grace, please come home.

Erased

Please come home. We need to talk. I’m in love with you.

Erased

Don’t fuck Jeongguk, you can fuck me instead, please.

Erased

He realised he always wrote ‘please’, and the more he went on, the more he needed to add.

He tried to stop overthinking everything and focused on the actual reality of it all.

He stared at your empty seat again.

Are you coming home for dinner?

Sent

The silence felt eternal.

That must be how space rovers feel, he thought, thinking about that tiny robot that wandered over the surface of Mars all alone.

He felt like the whole apartment couldn’t possibly be home anymore.

He shook his head, telling himself he was being melodramatic. After five minutes, he decided to call you. You always answered texts about food! You knew how much it meant to him eating together!

With renewed tenacity, he found your contact at the very top of the list, three A’s added before your name to make sure it always stayed on top of the list.

And he called you.

The beeping sound of the call ringing went on for ages. He swore he could feel his hair grow and his skin wither.

He waited maybe for a bit less than a minute, his mind already knowing that you were upset with him, that you were making him wait and grovel. You were trying to get on his nerves. Most definitely.

The ringing stopped.

“What is it?”

It was Jeongguk.

“Is she with you?” Seokjin asked, cold as ice.

“Yes. Of course.”

“When is she coming home?” Jin asked dryly. He felt ready for a fight.

“When she wants to.” Jeongguk replied equally dryly.

“Give her the phone.”

Jeongguk breathed heavily. He didn’t want to pass the phone to you. Seokjin had no right claiming you like that, using that voice, acting so mean when he was the one at fault. “She’s sleeping.” It was true. You were really sleeping; you had completely crashed at the end of the cartoon, with Bibby keeping you warm and covering you in affection, never leaving your side. After all, some dogs have a sense of smell so fine that they can sniff at their owner’s skin and perceive the hormones making their human happy or sad.

Seokjin waited, trying to calm himself down. It didn’t work. “I bet you’re gloating. You finally have her, don’t you? You must be feeling so smug.”

Jeongguk stretched his neck, keeping his composure. “I don’t have her, okay? She came to me and I gave her space. I gave her somewhere safe—”

“Our home is safe.” Jin growled. “Here is safe.”

“With you breaking her heart by banging that girl you don’t love?”

“She also banged a man she didn’t give a shit about.”

Jeongguk raised his eyebrows. “Did you bang Grace for revenge, then?”

“No. God, I’ve been alone for years, can’t I have one good thing?” Seokjin almost screamed, his frustration spilling over.

“Maybe she banged him to get over you. Maybe she did that because she’s tired of being alone, too.” Jeongguk explained, his tone glacial. His anger was scary — it didn’t explode or break. It froze everything it touched. “You hurt her. The moment you chose Grace, and with every date you went on. When you went to her on Valentine’s, when you banged her the other night. And there’s a difference. The dude she banged? That was just sex. But you and Grace? There are feelings there. That’s the part she can’t stand. This morning, when she saw the two of you in the kitchen? You broke her heart, Jin. She was broken—”

“But you fixed that, didn’t you, sweetie?” He teased, sarcastic and poisonous.

“Stop talking about my feelings for her.” Jeongguk chastised him. “Unlike you, I told her. I told her I had had a crush for her. I told her three years ago and I also told her that my feelings died down once I realised how she looked at you and how you looked at her. And we’re friends, we’re cool. I would never be able to look at her like anything more than a sister.”

Seokjin shut his mouth. He felt horrible. Maybe because he was horrible. He needed your sparkly laugh and your soothing touch. To talk things out about last night. Make everything right again. “Please, convince her to come home.”

Jeongguk tutted. “I won’t. She’ll come if she wants to. At her own time.”

“Jeongguk...” Seokjin begged.

“You both need to move on from this toxic bond. And there’s no way other than separating. Physically first, and emotionally second.” Jeongguk reasoned, repeating something he and Yoongi had discussed a thousand times.

“She is my friend.”

“You’re not hers, though. You are the person she loves, and the person hurting her. She deserves a real chance, away from you.” Jeongguk rubbed the crown of his head. “I have to go. Goodnight.”

He hung up.

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Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

#kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bangtan hq #thetruthuntoldnet #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #Baker!seokjin #bts fanfiction #bts blog #Seokjin flatmates!Au #seokjin friends to lovers

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thatgoblin · 3 years

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Small Town Affairs

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She's trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren't something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t often that people moved to Tin Springs, population 803. We barely had enough people to need a high school and a junior high school let alone more than a general store and gas station. There wasn’t even a Walmart for nearly 20 miles. You had to make a special trip to the larger town of Conway that had fast food restaurants and strip malls while the closest we had was a Dollar General and a ‘home style’ restaurant that was closed after 9. We did have a few bars and a strip joint, but those were just outside of town. Far enough that most people didn’t count them as being a part of town. It was very much a dying breed of Mayberry towns that used to thrive till people moved for better jobs and schools or to just get out of that small town headspace.

So when what looked like a whole fleet of moving trucks drove down the main road, everyone was talking. Turns out there was some guy with the last name Rogers that owned land that belonged to his pack that he was moving his new pack onto. The family had basically moved away or died off by the time I was 18. Most of the townspeople thought the houses on the land would stay empty till someone bought the land up for farming or to build new houses on. No one ever did and the moving trucks were telling us why it wouldn’t happen. Everyone and their dog would be gossiping and talking about who the new people were, where they came from, why they came back now, but I just ignored the whispers and gossip as I checked out folks at the general store.

“Hazel, would you be a dear and stock the shelves before you leave tonight?” The store owner, Peggy Carter, asked from her office. It sat just to the side of the register, making it easy to keep an eye on things. Her prim English accent was very much out of place in the small midwest town, but it wasn’t as crisp as it used to be when she first moved to Tin Springs.

“Sure. I’ve got my keys so I’ll lock up for you too,” I said, glancing back at her before the bell above the door rang. “Howdy,” I greeted the customers before going back to tidying my area. They were just a couple of women that were grabbing last minute items for dinner, which was the usual crowd so close to our closing time. I knew their faces, but couldn’t recall their names. I’d seen them around town, but I didn’t exactly interact with people outside of my job.

“Did you see the paper today? John Walker’s up for re-election again,” one woman said as they meandered towards the dairy section. While they sort of tried to stay quiet, the store was empty at that time of day and with it being so small that the voices carried easily.

“I saw that. He’s got my vote for sure,” the other woman said. “You know, he’s been such a good sheriff and I don’t think anyone’s running against him. It should be an easy win for him.”

“Hopefully. Things are just fine as they are now, why change them?” The first woman said. “Though, it is a bit odd that he’s with another Alpha and not an Omega.”

“I know, but Brock’s a good man. Both of them are. It’s just too bad things didn’t work out with them and that Omega girl.”

I should be used to it by now, hearing people talking about me and my exs. When you date the county sheriff and the only garage owner in town, things aren’t exactly secret. Even if they didn’t know your name or face, they knew your business.

“You know, John always said she was a good gal, but just had some problems. His mother and I play bridge at the church on Wednesday evenings and she told me that he was heartbroken over their split up. Him and Brock adored her, said they wanted to have kids too. I do hope she’s getting herself straightened out,” the second woman said.

I could handle the whispers and looks I’d get from the older Omegas in town, but this was a new low. They weren’t even trying to keep it quiet anymore.

“Just so ya’ll know, we’re closing soon, so if you’ve got some trash talking to do, do it outside where I don’t have to listen to it,” I called, earning small gasps from the women. They hurried to the front to check out, keeping their eyes down as I glared at them. If they were dumb enough to talk about me in front of me, I was not going to go easy on them. They didn’t say another word as they left, leaving me behind to glare at their backs.

“You should learn to ignore them. People will always talk,” Peggy said from the office.

“The least they could do was be discreet about it,” I mumbled. “Besides, it’s already been over a year and you’d think people would let it go and move on.”

“Well, with the new people moving in, you might get your wish,” she said. I could only hope.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly fast. Peggy left me in charge to stock the shelves after closing. We closed usually at about 8:00 PM, no one showed up after 7:45 PM on a regular day. So to hear the door jostle as someone tried to open at 8:10 PM was odd. Frowning, I put down the pasta to look over the aisle to see a man trying to peer in. He had dirty blond hair styled back into a faux hawk of sorts, and dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a tight black tee. There were a few cuts on his face, a bandaid over his nose, and what looked like hearing aids hooks around his ears, the man stood out like a sore thumb compared to the locals. Seeing me, he put on a big smile and waved.

My first instinct was to ignore him, but since he didn’t look familiar I figured he was one of the new people in town. They wouldn’t know the hours of any of the stores in town. I decided to at least let him know the store was closed. If anything happened I had a bat under my register and pepper spray on my keys in my pocket. Going to the front, I unlocked the door before opening it.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” I said as the muggy summer air came rushing in. “We close at 8.”

“Damn it,” the man hissed as he pulled out a cell phone. “Is there any other place to get groceries around here? My pack and I just moved to town and we don’t have any groceries. We’ve been working all day to get stuff into the house and didn’t realize the time.”

“Oh, uh not really, sorry,” I said. “Dollar General closes at the same time and you’d have to go to the next town over for Walmart and that’s 20 miles away.”

“What time do you guys open in the morning?” He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We open at 6:00 AM.” The way he looked when I told him was like witnessing a puppy being kicked. I could smell him, he was just an Omega. What harm could it do to let him in this once? Peggy had let a few people in here and there after hours, so what was one more? “Okay, so you can’t tell anyone or you’ll get me in trouble, but I can go ahead and let you in to shop. I’m just restocking shelves, so go ahead and get what you need.” Stepping aside, I let him in before locking the door behind him to keep anyone else out.

“Thank you so, so much. You’re a lifesaver, really,” he said as he grabbed a cart and proceeded to grab things off the shelf. I didn’t mind staying late, rent was going up and it was getting harder to pay, so a bit of extra time wouldn’t hurt. “I’m Clint by the way.”

“Hazel,” I replied as I went back to the shelves. Letting him fill his cart, I finished up my work before meeting him at the register. It was a lot of food, but then again how many moving trucks had showed up? “I really hope this isn’t just for you.”

“Naw, there’s 8 people in my pack. I’m hoping this will be good enough for at least dinner and breakfast, but there’s a few of us who can eat out a whole house,” Clint said with a chuckle as I scanned the items.

“Wow, that’s a lot. We don’t really have any packs at all around here. Maybe a handful, but it’s just three people at most,” I said.

“Oh yeah? We just moved here from New York. One of our Beta’s, Steve, used to live here. You might know him,” Clint said.

“Last name Rogers?” I asked, getting a nod. “Not personally. I know of the family and the land, but that’s about it,” I said with a shrug. “Alright, and total for today is $234.89.”

“Yup, sounds about right,” Clint said with a chuckle as he swiped a credit card. What did they do in New York that allowed them to buy that many groceries? Not to mention that was just for one night, I couldn’t imagine a full week’s worth. Maybe they should go to Walmart for groceries next time. “So is there anything fun to do around here?” He asked as I handed him the longest receipt I’d printed before.

“Eh. Depends on what you want to do. We have a restaurant that closes at 9:00 PM, a few bars around here, and a strip joint, but other than that there’s not much to be done unless you’re a fan of high school sports,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m going to have to give Steve a slap upside the head for bringing us to the most boring place in the world,” he sighed before looking at me wide eyed. “I mean, it’s just that it’s kinda slow compared to New York.”

“Don’t worry. I think it’s boring too, but like most of the folks that live here, it’s cheaper to stay than to move if you don’t have another job or family else where,” I said. “Sometimes the rodeo comes to the next town over and a lot of people go there.”

“Yeah, when he said this was a completely different place, I didn’t think he understood how all of us would find it so different,” Clint said as he started to load up the grocery cart.

“Here, let me help you take those out to your car. I’ll get the cart from you and you can head out,” I said, grabbing the keys to unlock the front door to let us out then relocked it.

“Thanks. You know, I guess small towns do have a lot of nice people willing to help out,” Clint said as he led the way to a black sports car.

“Sheesh, fancy,” I snorted as he popped the trunk.

“Yeah, it was a pain to drive it down the dirt driveway I have with my mate. I don’t want to part with her, but I also don’t want to ruin the undercarriage,” he said with a wince.

“That’s a bummer. There’s a car lot in town here, but I don’t know if they’d have anything your style,” I said, handing him a paper bag full of cereal.

“Howard, my mate, would shit his pants if I tried to go there,” Clint said with a chuckle. “He’s too posh to even think of buying anything pre-used. I’m pretty sure he’d have a heart attack.”

“Sounds like he’ll get comfortable real quick,” I said with a snort.

As we were finishing up putting the groceries in the car, there was a short honk and siren bwep before a sheriff’s car pulled into the spot next to Clint’s.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Clint frowned, unsure of what was happening, but I knew.

“Howdy friend!” A familiar voice called as a blond man with bright blue eyes and an irritating smile stepped from the patrol car. Dressed in his brown and khaki uniform, Sheriff John Walker approached us. “You must be part of the pack that just moved to town.”

“Uh, yeah. Just got in today,” Clint said, shifting his body again. “I’m Clint.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Sheriff Walker. Figured that since I saw you in town, I’d catch you real quick for an introduction,” the man said, holding out his hand for Clint to shake. Raising a brow, Clint shook the officer’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing the rest of my pack throughout the week,” Clint said before closing the trunk of his car.

“You’re on the Rogers property, yeah?” John asked, resting his hands on his hips.

“That’s the one,” Clint said with a nod.

“I think I went to school with one of the Rogers’ pack. Steve, I believe his name was. He was a grade above me. His family stayed in town a while before leaving. Didn’t think we’d see anyone come back to live on the property,” John said. I wanted to get away from this conversation as fast as possible. John hadn’t even addressed me, let alone acknowledge my existence. The last thing I wanted was for him to start shit with me in front of someone.

“Probably, I mean, he’ll be in town tomorrow to get all the paperwork fixed up with his mate,” Clint said. “But I should be going. We’ve been driving all day and everyone’s tired and hungry.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” John said with a nod, backing up to let Clint move. I kept quiet, trying to not look John in the eye as I moved the cart back to the sidewalk. “Have a nice evening, now,” he said, typing his broad brimmed hat to Clint.

“Thanks. See you around, Hazel,” Clint said to me with a tight smile and wave. I gave a short wave back before booking it back to the store.

Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, don’t follow me.

“Hazel, wait up,” John called as he jogged to catch up with me. I wanted to scream as I stopped at the front door to unlock it. “So, you’re talking to the new people now, huh?” He said as Clint pulled out and drove away.

“John, go away. It’s none of your business and this is not part of the agreement,” I hissed, getting the door open. Shoving the cart in front of me, I tried to shut the door in his face, but he’d stuck his boot in the way.

“Look, I’m just trying to keep an eye out for you, okay? Don’t get cozy with the new people. They might be interesting, but you never know what people are really like,” he said, pushing his way into the store.

“Ironic coming from you,” I snapped, glaring at him as I moved to the register. “I’m trying to close, leave.”

“Remember what I said,” John sighed. “Don’t trust those new people.”

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you and we both know it’s not far,” I snarled. “Now go away or I’ll short Brock this week.”

“Fine,” he said. “But just remember, I was the one that always looked after you. Even after everyone started those rumors about you, I stuck by you.”

“A lot of good it did me. Now go.”

John looked like he might say something else, but stopped himself. Instead, he shook his head before leaving the store. Quickly, I locked the door after him. Standing there, my hands shook as tears pricked my eyes. The asshole could always get under my skin. Just a damn look and I’d be nearly in tears. As much as I wanted to believe I was stronger now and could handle myself, that small interaction showed me that he still had a grip on my life.

Finished for the night, I headed home. There were no more encounters with anyone else thankfully, allowing me to relax for the night with a beer on my porch. My house wasn’t much, a one story two bedroom house that had a less than stellar paint job, but it was home. It was old, from the 20’s, but it was sturdy. I wasn’t there much but to eat, sleep, and shower anyways.

Sitting on the porch, one beer turned into two which turned into three. It was the fourth one that I finally felt like I could stop shaking completely. The last time I had seen John and talked to him was nearly a month ago. We’d been separated for almost a year and he was being his usual passive aggressive self just to push my boundaries. He’d come into the store and made a show of talking to me like I was a kid, letting everyone see he was the calm, collected Alpha that was trying to reach out with an olive branch to fix things between the unstable Omega who just needed some gentle handling to become a decent person.

I had nearly come unglued on him, but managed to keep my voice low and my eyes down. Peggy found me right after, sobbing out behind the store. No one, not even Peggy, knew what really happened between all three of us, but I wasn’t about to tell them and neither were John and Brock. We’d come to an agreement that they would leave me alone and not talk to me unless absolutely necessary and I’d stay quiet. As well as paying them off. It was nearly half of both my paychecks, but it was worth it if it meant they didn’t come into the store when I was there or tried to talk to me at all.

But John was starting to toe the line and push back. Brock kept his part of the deal, I was pretty sure he never really cared for me, but John was always obsessive. The deal was going to have to be revisited if John didn’t back off.

Done for the night, I tossed the bottles before heading to bed.

The last few days of the work week were about the same. Go to work, come home, go to work, come home. I saw Clint now and then who came in to grab a few things here and there, but that was it. He was nice and despite John wanting to tell me who I could and couldn’t see, it felt better to know that there was someone in town who didn’t know things about me without my permission.

While we weren’t best friends, we did send memes to each other when I was on break and he wasn’t busy. At one point he messaged me a picture of his shed full of cobwebs and wasp nests and asked if it was appropriate to burn it to the ground. I told him to be careful because there could be copperheads underneath or groundhogs. That led into me explaining what those were and learning that the man had lived 37 years thinking a groundhog was something made up by a city for a holiday and it was really just a beaver they were using.

It seemed that I would be teaching him, and probably his pack vicariously, what to look out for in their new homes. I still hadn’t met the rest of the pack, though I had seen one or two here and there around town.

Soon Friday rolled around. I woke up at about 4:30 AM. Friday would be busier than usual as it was a payday. I showered then dressed, sliding on jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I then made a pot of coffee before doing my makeup. Just enough to hide the bags under my eyes and a few marks on my neck that were visible above my shirt collar.

It was my regular dress for my job at the store, Peggy didn’t care too much so long as it wasn’t offensive. Which meant anything but plain clothing and no writing. After coffee, I fixed my hair so it didn’t frizz then grabbed my thermos of coffee. I locked up then headed to work.

The sun was peeking above the trees and clouds as I pulled into work around 5:15 AM. Peggy was already there when I walked in the back.

“Did you have any problems closing the other night? I forgot to ask,” She said as I stepped into the office to get my cash drawer for the day.

“It was fine. Had one of the new people stop in, Clint. The blond that comes by for snacks. He’d made it in just after we closed, but I went ahead and let him shop since they didn’t have anything at their houses,” I said, taking the drawer from the open safe.

“Houses? You mean they’re not all in one?” She asked, looking up from her book keeping.

“There’s not a big enough house for more than four people on their property. There’s like ten of them,” I said with a snort.

“Well I’m sure we’ll meet all of them at some point. We’re the only grocery store in town,” she said.

“Unless they need to buy in bulk. Clint nearly bought everything in the store,” I said, counting my drawer at the register.

“We can only hope. Next time you see them, let them know if they need more than a few things to get us a list and we’ll get them large amounts. We used to do that a lot when there were bigger packs in my hometown,” Peggy said. The woman was nearly 60 and had lived in England up until about 30 years ago, getting the general store from her uncle who had passed away. I was used to hearing the facts of ‘We used to do this in my hometown’ a lot.

“Will do.”

Finished with setting up, I unlocked the front door and turned on the rest of the lights at 6:00 AM. The usual rush of moms right after school starts as well as early rising elderly came in, making for the usual busy rush that Peggy would step in and help with at the second register. By the time 10:00 AM rolled around, things were tapering off. We’d have a lunch rush for those grabbing a quick something, then back to a nice slowness.

“I’m gonna take my break after this last person checks out,” I said to Peggy who nodded. I was starting to get hungry and I saw a bearclaw in the donut rack that had my name on it. A few cups of coffee could only hold me over for so long before I needed actual food.

Before I could clock out for a break though, two people walked into the otherwise empty store. They were part of the new pack, just the scent alone said that, and they were Alphas. Great.

“I got this if you want,” Peggy said softly as she caught the scent too. Peggy was a sweet Beta and she acted as a stand-in grandma for me, but I couldn’t just run at every Alpha that came in.

“I’m good,” I said, giving her a small wave and smile. It wasn’t long before the Alphas came to the register. One was taller, probably over 6’, with steely blue eyes and dark, earthy brown hair with a scruff on his face. He smelt of fresh rain and peaches with that Alpha musk. Dressed in an almost too tight tee with an extra sleeve and glove covering his left arm and hand, he looked out of place in the button up work shirts and plaid that was usually worn by the adult men around town.

The other was shorter, more tailored. His light brown hair had a bit of copper to it as it was swept back from his face as that held a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes stayed on the phone in his hand. He too was in a tee and jeans that were fitted tighter, making them look. . . Well almost foreign. A whiff of cedar and maybe smoke or tobacco swirled into the first Alpha’s scent. Both of them mingling and making something settle deep inside my belly.

Fuck.

“Is that all for you two?” I asked, holding back with every fiber of my being any scent or sign of them making me feel like a simple, needy Omega.

“That’ll be it,” the first Alpha said. It was standard groceries of meat, cheese, dried goods, condiments, basically anything to stock up a house after moving.

“Is your pack settling in okay? Clint comes by now and then,” I said, trying to make small talk. Usually I didn’t, but something about those two had me anxious. Not a bad anxious, but. . . I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, uh yeah. We’re getting there,” he said with a nod. “It’s different than what we’re used to.”

“What are ya’ll used to?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

“A lot more people and a lot less trees,” the second Alpha spoke up, his voice lilting into an accent I couldn’t place. “But it is lovely here. I quite like how peaceful it is without masses of people a hair’s breadth away.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “So are all of you from New York too?”

“A few of us, but not all,” the first Alpha said as he pulled out his wallet.

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t take you long to settle in. Today’s total is $87.56,” I said, tapping a few buttons on my keypad.

“Tell me, is there a nursery around? For plants that is,” the second Alpha asked, leaning onto the counter when I started to help pack up the groceries into the cart. “I am wanting to start a flower garden, but would like to see where the supplies are first.”

“A plant nursery? Um, there is one just west of the town. Just take the main road and it’s about ten minutes from town. It’s run by the Mennonites and they have a bunch of different plants to pick from. They’ve even got starter trees for fruits and some bushes for blackberries and the like,” I said.

“Thank you. I appreciate the information,” he said with a soft smile and a nod. I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You’re welcome, if any of your pack needs anything just ask around. We’re all pretty friendly here,” I said as I finished putting the bags in the cart.

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, moving over to the cart to hold out his hand to me. “I am Helmut. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Hazel. It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, taking his hand. It was warm and soft, different than the work roughened hands I was used to. Helmut rolled his eyes at the other, elbowing him.

“Hey,” he grumbled, shooting him a glare. “Oh, uh, I’m Bucky.” A quick wave and awkward smile was all I was given as he quickly moved to push the cart away.

“He’s house broken, I swear,” Helmut said with a wink. I couldn’t help the honest to God giggle that came out of me. “Have a good day, Hazel,” Helmut said, smiling as he shook his head at Bucky.

“You too,” I called after as they left. It didn’t even occur to me that I was staring after them till Peggy came up next to me.

“You could always ask for a photograph. It would last longer,” she said with hum.

“Oh shush,” I said, waving her off. “They were just, ya know, nice. Most Alphas around here are curt and so loud and demanding. It’s a nice change to see is all.”

“Uh huh. Even if you weren’t letting them get a scent of you, you were definitely giving them eyes. I’ve never seen you do that for anyone. Not even when you were with ‘Those-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.’ I think it’s cute and wonderful that you had that reaction,” Peggy said as she went to the other register so I could take a break. “Besides, when’s the last time you actually touched someone on purpose?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being nice to new people is all,” I said, locking my register computer after clocking out for a break. Quickly, I grabbed the bearclaw before leaving the dollar and change for Peggy. “It was just a handshake. Besides, you always tell me to work on my customer service skills,” I said as I walked to the back door.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” She called after me.

#john walker/oc #brock rumlow/oc #john walker/brock rumlow/oc #bucky barnes #john walker #brock rumlow #bucky barnes/helmut zemo #bucky barnes/oc #helmut zemo/oc #zemo/oc #bucky/zemo #bucky barnes/helmut zemo/oc #bucky/zemo/oc #a/b/o #marvel #fanfiction

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yunatheintrovert · 3 years

Text

shot through the heart (and you’re to blame) | Chapter 3 [Russell Adler/Female Bell!Reader Soulmate AU]

As you listened to the familiar gradual crescendo of Morning Mood overlap with the regular hiss of your oxygen mask, you looked around the darkly lit interior of the C-130. Red netting that comprised the seats stood out starkly against the dark interior. It was certainly uncomfortable but nothing you haven’t dealt with before.

Aside from the several MI6 operatives sent as support for the operation, Belikov and Sims were seated next to you while Adler was seated across from you with some files in hand. Although, you didn’t know how he could read them in the darkly lit cabin while also having sunglasses on.

You almost wished you brought sunglasses like Adler always did. The harsh desert sunlight was going to be quite the shock. But you were never sure how the hell he kept those things on his head. He somehow managed to do that in Cuba.

Speaking of the man…

“How does he do that?” you asked lowly, well as quietly as you could in the cabin of a C-130 Hercules with an oxygen mask on and a walkman blaring Morning Mood, “I always see him with a cigarette yet he’s doing fine up here.”

“Doc?” Sims replied before adding, “He knows how to handle hypoxia. Hell, he was one of the first in our unit to go through with HALO jumping in its experimental days.”

You recalled that from your “memories” of being on Adler’s team in MACV-SOG. That did come up once in a conversation. Although, like everything else that “happened” in Vietnam, it was foggy.

Truth be told, you were a bit envious.

Adler could be a chain smoker and take only a quick breather with the oxygen mask while you and the rest of the team had to breathe through an oxygen mask for most of the flight to flush out nitrogen in the body.

You must have trailed off into your thoughts at one point as you felt an elbow nudge you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Sims only to notice the very topic of your idle thoughts staring at you.

You stared at him for several moments before simply blinking. You were too tired and hungry for this especially after Lazar spent a whole 30 minutes talking with Sims about quarter pound burgers...

“Anything I can help you with, sir?” you asked tiredly. You saw his hands move minutely as if he wanted to take a drag from a non-existent cigarette.

Habit, you thought vaguely. Military plane transport rides must be quite annoying to him since he couldn’t smoke in the military transport.

“I had a friend in Vietnam,” Adler began abruptly with his voice taking that familiar turn you heard before, “His canopy got tangled after a collision with one of our own during terminal. He ended up in the treetops. Alive though that wasn’t a damn mercy.”

...Really at this point, you weren’t sure if Adler was conducting psychological warfare on you or not.

“...that’s uh unfortunate,” you said awkwardly, not quite sure of what exactly to say to that story.

Especially since the very thought of crashing like Adler’s buddy was something you were trying to keep off your mind.

You really were just too tired for a sudden story time with Adler, especially since you couldn’t figure out his angle like this. You’ve pulled all-nighters before back in your desk job at Langley but you had caffeine. Coffee had not been offered in the outpost and most of the team was going through caffeine withdrawal...hard.

Well, Belikov was fine considering how he primarily drank tea in the morning but you and Sims on the other hand...

“I wasn’t finished,” Adler stated before adding as if simply stating a fact, “His radio wasn’t working. He was alone and panicking. You won’t.”

Oh .

“...Understood.” was all you could quietly say as you turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the cargo box of M16s to be quite interesting.

Perhaps if you had a heavy dose of caffeine, you’d have come with a more clever response to Adler's apparent vote of confidence or...support? You really didn’t know.

Things really did seem simpler the last time you were on his team.

Regardless, as you heard the pilots announce over the intercom about the approach to the drop zone, you couldn’t help but feel steadier.

It was time.

Watching in a trance

The crew is certain

Nothing left to chance

All is working

Trying to relax

“Bell, my friend!” Belikov said rather cheerily while adjusting the straps of his harness as if he wasn’t just about to jump from a plane 30,000 ft in the air, “You ready for this?”

“...You’ll get my life insurance benefits.”

And really that was an answer in and of itself.

All that earned you was an amused laugh by Belikov and a slap on the back as he cheerily said, “Just aim for the bushes!”

As you chuckled at his jest, you vaguely noted that your own harness was a little too loose as it had shifted from the simple action.

Up in the capsule

"Send me up a drink."

Jokes Major Tom

The count goes on...

“There is always the reserve parachute, да?” The light-heartedness in his voice made you couldn’t help but relax minutely. Although, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that had nagged at you since the start of the plane ride.

There were numerous possible scenarios where the reserve chute failed that ran through your mind at that moment: mispacking, entanglement of both the main and reserve parachutes, premature activation of the AAD...

And really it wasn’t quite the possibility of death that scared you as much as it was surviving a bad fall and dealing with the injuries...and the health insurance afterwards.

The medical bills for the gunshot wound courtesy of Adler nearly made you go broke.

“Well, at least I’ll die to the sound of Major Tom. There’s worse ways to die.” you murmured to yourself with Belikov looking curiously at you.

But all you did was simply nod at Belikov as you busied yourself with getting the harness properly fitted to your form.

Like Lazar, the man always had a way of lightening things.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sounding of the alarm. You noticed the light at the ramp turned to yellow for standby.

The pilots were about to give the go-ahead for the drop.

As you fell into line with the other operatives of the operation field team on standby near the ramp, you fidgeted with the straps of the oxygen mask on your head as well as the harness before checking the jump bottle attached to your harness.

“Alright, guys,” Adler curtly said, “You know the drill. Keep the formation tight. I don’t want to see anyone trekking through the desert for miles to get to the satellite site.”

Somehow, you felt that last bit was directed at you with how the man’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before looking over at the others.

And you could tell the others felt the same way. The MI6 members were already looking at you as if you were the “problem child” of the group.

Truthfully, you expected that, considering your rather...notable past even though you could only recall a handful of memories from it at best.

If there was a bit of a bounce in your step as you lined up with your assigned group formation at the ramp, well you certainly weren’t going to pay no mind to the looks it may garner.

You were going to be jumping out of an airplane at 30,000 ft while listening to Major Tom.

Fewer pleasures in life , you told yourself.

With a beep over the plane’s intercom system and the switch to the green light, the first cracks of painfully bright sunlight streamed into the dark interior of the plane.

The glare of the desert sun only got more intense as the ramp fully unloaded. You could see the cloudless, clear blue skies and yellow sand dunes being akin to small yellow hills in the distance down below.

As you followed the MI16 operative in front of you to the now open ramp, you took a deep, steadying breath through your oxygen mask.

It was time.

You secured the glasses on your face as you motioned silently with your free hand, signalling the countdown of Major Tom to yourself.

And on a wing and a prayer, you let yourself just fall .

Earth below us

Drifting, falling

Floating weightless

Calling, calling home…

You could feel your heartbeat thudding in your chest as your stomach dropped. The adrenaline rush was similar to your previous jumps.

Although, you didn’t quite feel this...giddy.

Looking down, you read the marked dials of your altimeter at your wrist.

29,500 ft.

All you had to do was follow the “leader” or rather navigator in this case and make sure the parachute was deployed. If shit hit the fan, well...there was always your automatic activation device to deploy the main or reserve parachutes.

You vaguely noticed the sharp hiss of the oxygen mask as you took each and every breath became louder and louder.

Even as the low music in your headset- secured by your helmet -played the verses of Major Tom , you could still hear the whistling of the wind in your ears.

“Approaching drop zone.” you heard the navigator’s voice come over the radio. As you listened to the confirmations over the radio by the other operatives, you shook your head idly. The whistling of the wind was triggering the ringing in your ears apparently.

Second stage is cut, we're now in orbit

Stabilizers up, running perfect

Starting to collect requested data

"What will it effect, when all is done?"

Thinks Major Tom

You looked down at your altimeter yet again only to see a blur of red, orange, and blue at your wrist-

And suddenly, there was a flash of light before your eyes.

Back at ground control

There is a problem

"Go to rockets full."

Not responding

"Hello Major Tom

Are you receiving?

Turn the thrusters on

We're standing by."

There's no reply

________________________________________________________________

You vaguely registered the static of the radio in your ears.

“We’ve got a job to do, Bell-”

“Wake the hell up!”

You blinked. Why the hell was Adler calling you on the radio like that? You had only blinked for a split second-

And then you looked down at your altimeter.

4,000 ft.

What...what the hell-

“ Your main chute is fucked, kid. You need to do a cutaway with your hook knife-” Yes...your hook knife. You reached over to the harness straps where you pulled the hook knife out from the pocket there.

“Yes, good, now cut the lines.”

You blinked.

There...there were a lot of lines.

Almost like that of a cat’s cradle game...

“Bell, focus.”

You were already sawing away at the tangled white lines of your main parachute. They were twisted so at least you sawed several out in one go-

“2,000 ft.”

“...sir...I uh dropped my hook knife.” you said hazily with a sheepish laugh.

“Then use your other knife.”

Oh .

“Yessir.”

It really was supposed to be simple. But really reaching for the knife in your thigh holster was an awkward affair when falling at terminal velocity.

You brought your knee closer up to yourself as you reached for the knife. Suddenly, you felt the world spin-

“Bell, you’re going sideways. Get the knife. Now.”

You felt the firm handle of the knife as you quickly brought it up to the lines above you and dragged the edge across the parachute cord lines.

“1,000 ft. Hurry the fuck up, Bell. Your AAD will deploy at any second now.”

Your AAD...oh fuck .

How the hell had you forgotten about that...

4, 3, 2, 1 Earth below us Drifting, falling Floating weightless Calling, calling home...

On a hope and prayer, you sliced through the last remaining line and just prayed that the reserve chute wouldn’t get entangled on the main parachute you had just cut away.

700 ft.

Belikov , you thought with resignation, I sure hope you get my life insurance benefits .

And just like that, you felt like a Soviet heavy soldier had just suckerpunched you with a cinderblock.

Across the stratosphere A final message: "Give my wife my love." Then nothing more

________________________________________________________________

You stared down at the-relatively-solid ground beneath you. The grains of sand were hot to the touch even as you wore gloves.

Were you dead…?

Suddenly, you felt a hand wrench away the oxygen mask you wore. You looked up into the blazing sun only to squint and see a dark figure.

There was the distinct smell of nicotine and smoke…

“Sir?” you asked only to see a large gloved hand holding a dark grey oxygen mask and shoving it onto your face.

“Breathe.”

It wasn’t a request.

You took a deep breath, hearing the hiss of oxygen and finally registering the ending notes of Major Tom . Wait, the next song was about to begin-

You shot to your feet, pulling the mask away from your face and handing it back to Adler.

“I’m fine,” you swore fervently with a perhaps bit too forced of a smile.

Sure, you were a bit dazed.

But that was just the adrenaline working its magic, right?

You unclipped the bag attached to your waist and quickly got out your XM4 with the magazine loaded and ready after two trusty taps on your helmet.

“You’re experiencing decompression sickness right now, kid.” Adler sighed. You couldn’t help but wince at that slightly.

You had disappointed him. Although, you had warned him about your inexperience with HALO jumping.

“Just do overwatch for the operation at the cliff side.”

You opted to just obediently nod.

You’d keep overwatch over the site unless the marked targets were secured and destroyed by the marked time designations.

If that wasn’t the case...well you always had your good ol’ trusty C4 in your bag.

________________________________________________________________

As it would turn out, things became a shitshow.

Apparently Perseus supplied their hired DGI soldiers with more aid than expected. The team had come into the site expecting all kinds of things. Assault helicopters, spy planes, artillery-

But not radio jammers .

Well, there was Plan B…

But you hadn’t seen the signal for it yet.

And so you turned off your radio, no longer wanting to hear the crackling static of it all.

Looking down the scope of your XM4 rifle, you decided to finally resume playing your Walkman.

Sun is shinin' in the sky

There ain't a cloud in sight

It's stopped rainin' everybody's in the play

And don't you know

It's a beautiful new day, hey hey

Humming the merry little tune lightly to yourself, you fired several shots in a short burst through the skull of a DGI soldier emerging from the small canyon where the satellite had crashed. The body crumpled to the ground and you saw a shadow dart away from the entrance to the canyon. That was the tenth one you sniped down so far-

Your thoughts were cut short by the sight of blue smoke contrasting sharply against the yellow sand dunes.

Plan B it was then , you mused to yourself.

Runnin' down the avenue

See how the sun shines brightly in the city

On the streets where once was pity

Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, hey hey

Electric Light Orchestra’s Mr. Blue Sky graced your ears under the clear blue skies of Angola as you soon descended down to the canyon floor. Your gloved hands tightly gripped the ropes.

The last thing you needed was to make another abrupt fall and land on your ass.

As you let go of the ropes and fell the remaining several feet to the floor, you scanned your surroundings. The rocks to your left were a good cover in case the enemy tried to flank or ambush you.

Although, you couldn’t afford to play defense at the moment.

Plant the C4 and get the hell out of dodge, you told yourself.

Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why

You had to hide away for so long (so long)

Where did we go wrong?

However, even the best laid plans were burned away by the fog of war.

And just as you finally arrived at the designated Zone A of the KH-9 satellite crash site, yours were stomped to pieces by all too familiar steps.

Well, shiitake .

It was your worst kind of enemy.

A Heavy.

Now, you could just waste an entire magazine trying to shoot that impossibly sturdy bucket off their head. But that would give away your position, expose you to those damn concussion grenades, and deplete your ammo.

Hence why you decided on the only rational thing to do.

You were going to kill that buckethead with your trusty 7-inch bowie knife.

Hey you with the pretty face

Welcome to the human race

A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin'

And today is the day we've waited for

With a light whistle from your lips, you heard the Heavy’s footsteps approach your location.

Just like Belikov taught , you thought as you readied your Magnum, cocking the hammer back.

The large shadow cast from their figure was already past your hiding place behind the rock.

They walked closer and closer until you could see the heavily armored plates protecting their legs walking past you.

And then you took the shot.

There was a muffled, strangled cry of pain from the DGI Heavy as they staggered back from the shot. You took advantage of the momentum by lunging from behind, sinking the bowie knife deep into the narrow gap between the helmet and the neck.

The height difference made it somewhat difficult but you could deal with it.

Hey there Mr. Blue

We're so pleased to be with you

Look around see what you do

Everybody smiles at you

That small fleshy opening was just enough for you to sink your knife several inches in.

You were quite sure you nicked the carotid artery.

But that wasn’t nearly a quick enough death.

Still, you didn’t have time to go for a second strike. A short burst of gunfire erupted from their LMG. You ducked back under the cover of the rock that really was just getting obliterated by the LMG fire.

You silently counted. It wouldn’t take long for them to be forced to reload and throw a concussion grenade your way.

They always did that.

It was simply protocol that came from training.

And you would use that against them.

Mr. Blue, you did it right

But soon comes Mr. Night creepin' over

Now his hand is on your shoulder

Never mind I'll remember you this

I'll remember you this way

And true as church bells rang on Sundays, you heard the rapid fire of the LMG die down and you fired a quick round from your Magnum at the Heavy before lunging.

This time, you didn’t half-ass it.

Large hands were already heavy punches at your ribs but your padded combat vest absorbed most of the blows. Not stopping your momentum, you forced the bowie knife in through the same fleshy gap. This time though, it was a frontal attack.

You felt the knife enter smoothly into the neck until it hit resistance in the muscle protecting the jugular vein and then you just twisted it. There was a choking gurgling sound erupting from the Heavy’s throat as you felt the hands now grappling at your shoulders squeeze painfully before relaxing.

You severed their jugular and carotid artery.

It was only when you withdrew the knife from the neck of the Heavy that you noticed the wet feeling on your eyelashes as you blinked. You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your glove. You stared down at the crimson stain on the fabric when you pulled your hand back.

Your hands never really were clean.

With a sigh, you stood up from straddling the dead body and set your knife in its sheath at your thigh.

You still had to plant that C4-

And that’s when you heard it.

That all too familiar beeping sound.

It had been nearly instinct for you to simply drop to the ground and partially roll the still heavily-armored corpse of the Heavy to face you, shielding you from the direction the inevitable detonation was going to come from.

Of course like clockwork, the beeping stopped.

Hey there Mr. Blue (sky)

We're so pleased to be with you (sky)

Look around see what you do (blue)

Everybody smiles at you-

(And you proceeded to see stars in your vision as you felt what seemed to be a cannonball slam into you.)

________________________________________________________________

“Bloody hell! Are you okay?” you heard an accented voice ask above you.

It was one of those MI6 field agents sent as support for the operation.

“Yeah,” you murmured hazily, blinking away the blotches of color and stars still littering your vision, “I...uh should have paid more attention.”

You didn’t quite know how you missed one of the operatives planting C4 at Zone A. They must have been stealthy about it while you were in the middle of stabbing a Heavy repeatedly in the neck.

“Sorry about that, mate. I got a bit overzealous with the C4. We’re about to head to exfil.” the operative offered out his arm to you which you quickly took. Your balance was still wobbly as you could hear the deafening ringing in your ears drown out whatever songs your Walkman was playing.

Speaking of your Walkman, you looked down at it worriedly only to sigh in relief.

Miraculously, it hadn’t taken severe damage. Nothing not unrepairable.

That was good.

You could heal from bruises, concussions, and whatever the hell was thrown at you. But you couldn’t replace this Walkman.

You idly looked down to see the corpse of the Heavy you had taken down. The armor had gotten large fragments but it looked like the corpse was still intact. With a glance at the retreating MI6 agent, you knelt down quickly, pulling away the armor from the corpse.

Only a select few got to wear this kind of heavy duty armor. It was a privilege due to the sheer expensiveness and maintenance costs of the armor plates.

Patting down the corpse, you felt a familiar rectangular shape in one of the pockets on the corpse’s vest. Pulling it out, you found that it was-

...a cassette tape?

‘ Миллион алых роз ’ was written on the white label on the cassette tape.

Your musings were cut short by the crackling of the radio at your waist. The radio jammers must have been destroyed by now.

“If I were you, I’d get to exfil now, Bell. Doc’s waiting for you.”

You sighed.

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to face disappointment at how little you contributed to the operation or how you intervened in the operation after the radio jammers went off.

Either one wasn’t good.

Story Time With Adler it was, you thought hazily. At least, you liked his voice. There was just an assuredness and husky tone to his voice that was pleasant to listen to…

And with that idle thought in mind, you hurriedly made your way to exfil, trying not to trip on the rocks on the way there with your still wobbly sense of balance.

_______________________________________________________________

“ Bell.” was all the man in question had to say. He took a drag of his cigarette in the helicopter as you reluctantly grabbed the offered oxygen mask in hand and took a deep breath from it.

After breathing in and out for several seconds, you took off the oxygen mask and smiled with widened eyes as you gave a thumbs up gesture to the man across from you. Maybe you were exaggerating a bit too much but you really did want him to get off your back regarding the matter of oxygen.

It hadn’t helped you much back during the HALO jump apparently.

Perhaps, he’d buy into it-

“Bell, it’s oxygen, not cocaine.”

...or maybe not…

And so you resigned yourself to spending the next several hours wearing an oxygen mask while Adler watched you like a hawk while taking drags of his cigarette.

#Russell Adler #Russell Adler x Bell #russell adler x Female Bell!Reader #reader-insert #cod cold war fanfiction #cod cold war black ops #fic: shot through the heart (and you're to blame)#Female Bell #Female Bell!Reader #Fem!Bell

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queenmylovely · 4 years

Text

The Best Things Ain’t Free

Summary: Roger Taylor x fem!reader. After meeting through friends, Roger is impressed with your lifestyle and you’re impressed with his prettiness.

Word Count: 10.9k listen... she’s long

Warnings: cussing, smut (oral sex, fingering, etc.) (18+!! marked with ***)

A/N: This idea has been on my mind for ages because I can’t look at certain pictures of Roger in a fur coat without this thot. PSA that the most fictional part of this fic is reader being rich bc your girl ain’t. Let’s all use our best imagination and enjoy the life of the wealthy for a minute. Please leave feedback in any form whether it be tags, replies, asks, or messages, because I really do love hearing from you!

Masterlist; BLM Resources, Register to Vote (U.S.)

(these are what inspired this entire thing bc look at them!!! pics edited by me)

☆☆☆

Normally, you wouldn’t be one to go to a dingy pub to watch some band play a set. If you wanted to hear good music, you’d go to a concert in a real venue, with box seats and catering. And if you wanted a drink you’d go to the Ivy, Grenadier, Star, or if you really wanted a nice time, the Ritz. But your friend, Kalaya, from your time at Oxford (she had attended on a merit-based scholarship, bless her heart), had insisted that you come.

“They’re one of the best bands I’ve ever heard!” Kalaya gushed, trying to convince you to go.

“Better than the Stones? The Supremes? Janis?” you asked, referencing all of the concerts you had taken her to in uni. “We saw Janis the one and only time she played solo in London, are you telling me this student band is going to match her?”

“I said one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. And it’s not like you’ve never been to the bar before, it’s Angel’s, I took you there after exams junior year, remember?” Kalaya prodded, hoping that since it was at least somewhat familiar, you might be more likely to go.

“Oh yeah, I remember. Someone spilt a drink on me and I stunk like cheap beer for the rest of the night,” you said, wrinkling your nose in annoyance.

“C’mon you can’t condemn a whole pub just because one drunk idiot made a mistake,” Kalaya reasoned.

“Never would’ve happened at the Ritz,” you said with a huff.

Lucky for her, Kalaya never took you as seriously as you wanted to be and she laughed, “Stop being so stuck up, it’s not flattering.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, I need you to go. I fancy the guitar player and I can’t show up alone, you know I get nervous in crowds on my own,” Kalaya reminded you with her best puppy-dog eyes.

Your face broke out in a grin, “You didn’t say you fancied someone, oh my gosh, of course I’ll go! Tell me more about this guitarist.”

_____

The one caveat you had made Kalaya agree to was new outfits for the show. You would go to a grungy student pub to support your friend, but like hell were you going to dress the same as everyone there. After a few hours traipsing around Oxford Street, you both had completely new, fabulous outfits that were sure to stun, on your dime of course.

When you had first met Kalaya, she hadn’t liked you paying for things for her, but when you insisted that it only made sense for you to do or else you would be doing everything alone, she began to accept it. Plus, you had told her, the money was doing a lot more good being spent on fancy dinners and trips to the sea than sitting in some bank account in Switzerland. Anyway, your parents owned the largest shipping company in England, or something, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty to spare.

“It’ll take about an hour and ten minutes by car, so we should leave about two and a half hours before the concert so we can get there early,” you planned out two days before the concert, during dinner at your shared apartment with Kalaya.

“Car? We can just take the train, it’s practically the same amount of time,” Kalaya replied.

“And get our new outfits all dirty before the show? No way, Chay can take us. I already told him about it and he’s bringing Martie so they can go too,” you explained. Chay (short for Charlie, short for Charles) was your family’s driver and Martie was his wife. They were in their early thirties so they still appreciated new music.

“What if something happens with Brian and I want to stay? Won’t Martie and Chay want to come home?” Kalaya said sheepishly.

“When that happens, we’ll just get rooms at that Inn on the boulevard and wait until morning to bring you home,” you said with a smirk.

Kalaya got her own cheeky smile, “And what about when you inevitably sweep some unknowing pretty boy off his feet? Where will they go without you to get the rooms?”

You hummed, thinking about all the boys that might be at the concert, “They have their expense card, of course.”

_____

The afternoon before the concert, the four of you met at the drive of your parent's house, ready and dressed for the night. You’re in dark wash bell bottoms, an emerald green satin top, and black leather platform boots. Draped over one arm you had your favorite fur coat, a dark brown mink, because although it was August, it got cold late at night, especially in Oxford. Kalaya had chosen a black flowy dress that came to her mid-thigh and made her medium-brown skin richer in comparison, and black suede booties. It would’ve been boring except for the silver and gold thread embroidering it, making it look like a starry night sky. She had told you it would be perfect because Brian studied stars.

Martie and Chay were a little more understated, as was to be expected since they didn’t have to try to catch anyone’s eye. Martie was in an orange floral dress in a similar cut to Kalaya’s, but a few inches longer. The orange of the dress and the yellow and olive green flowers complimented her dark brown skin with its warm undertone. Chay was in black bell bottoms, a dark red button-down with a paisley print, and regular black boots. You told him that he was lucky his skin was still tanned from the summer holiday because his typical paper-white skin combined with the outfit would’ve made him look like a vampire. Chay laughed sarcastically and Martie changed the subject by complimenting you two girls and then turned back to Chay, noticing his large collar was a little crooked and fixing it.

Everyone, including their overnight bags just in case, got into the car and Chay immediately turned the radio up, the four of you singing along the whole way there.

Once you got to the bar, the four of you grabbed drinks and sat at a table near the back because it wasn’t crowded yet. The group chatted easily, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories. You were all more like family than anything because Chay’s father was the family driver before him and he and Martie had been together since they were teenagers. Since Kalaya always came to all the family vacations (that Martie and Chay also came to, as “employees;” their only duty being a designated driver), the four of you were used to hanging out and going to clubs and concerts together.

Slowly, the bar started filling up and you turned to Kalaya, “We should probably go to the front now so we can secure a spot.”

Kalaya nodded, “Are you guys coming?”

Martie and Chay looked at each other, communicating silently in that way couples do. Martie answered, “No, we’ll stay here. Don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty students.”

“My sentiments exactly,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Kalaya elbowed you. Then you looked at Chay with a sheepish smile, “Can I leave my coat with you?”

“Yes,” Chay huffed with his own eye roll, but he was still smiling. “Now go on, get up there.”

Kalaya and you laughed and waved, hurrying to get a good spot close to the stage. That was one positive of a small venue, being close enough to the band to do some serious damage to your hearing as well as being able to actually see the sweat dripping down their temples and chests once they really got into the music.

The crowd grew around you and you were jostled a couple of times, but once you glared at the people who did it, that seemed to stop. The energy of the crowd grew and grew in anticipation and you heard lots of chatter about how excited they were to see the band. Maybe Kalaya hadn’t oversold them.

It wasn’t long before all of the stage lights went out and a booming voice came from all around, announcing the arrival of, “Your entertainment tonight, Her Majesty, Queen!”

You laughed, appreciating the audacity of the name as someone who liked to be somewhat outrageous yourself. The lights flashed back on and you realized that the band was already onstage; they went right into the first song, drums, guitar, and bass starting strong. You listened to the music, enjoying it already, but were more focused on checking out the band, which was easy because you were only ten feet away from the stage.

The singer was a slim, elegant man with light brown skin and jet black hair. His eyes were a warm brown and when he looked out at the crowd it was as if he was connecting with every person. Round lips and large teeth caught your eye and as you watched them enunciate every syllable, you couldn’t help but think they must make a wonderful smile. He was wearing a black satin jumpsuit embroidered and embellished until it shone in the light. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut and eyeliner just the same kept him on the rock side of glam, any softer and he could’ve been considered disco. And even though the concert had only just started, he was already completely into it; the energy he gave off as he strode about the stage only adding to the crowd’s.

Next you looked at the guitarist, Brian, who Kalaya was already staring at, mouth hanging open in a way that told you she didn’t realize how obvious it was. You gently reached over and tapped her chin, bringing her out of her trance and her eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She started swaying to the music and looked around the stage in a much more casual way.

Back to the guitarist, as Kalaya had told you he was extremely tall, with some of the longest legs you had ever seen on anyone. With velvet black pants and a flowing white blouse, he was as glam as the singer. He was even more slim than the singer, and with the mound of curls that made up his head he kinda looked like a lollipop, nothing you would ever tell Kalaya. He had pale white skin, a prominent nose, and otherwise delicate features, but your main attention was brought to his hazel eyes that looked at the crowd as if he was surveying them. Overall you were thoroughly impressed with Kalaya’s choice to fancy him.

On the opposite side of the singer was the bassist, made clear by the fact that his guitar only had four strings and a longer neck. His clothing was a little more reserved than the other two, simply a black satin suit with a white satin shirt underneath. His chestnut brown hair was long and wavy, and it framed his also pale white face well. He was pretty relaxed in his playing, like it wasn’t that hard, but watching his hands you could tell the skill it took to stay on beat through some of the most complex rhythms. A soft nose, green-grey eyes that seemed kind, full lips, and a familiar feeling endeared him to you instantly, a smile coming to your face as he smirked when the singer pressed up against him.

Lastly, you turned your attention to the drummer, and just about gasped. Yes, the other three had been beautiful, but none of them were as pretty as him. His hair was shaggy, wavy, and dirty blonde, and heaven knew you loved your blondes. His white skin was lightly tanned which just made his baby blue eyes stand out even more. He was wearing some sort of black blouse but it was completely unbuttoned, leaving his chest that was toned from drumming totally exposed. You couldn’t see much else because of his kit but what you could see, your eyes ate up. As he drummed, his lips stuck out in a pout and his hair swooshed, glinting gold as he played the cymbals.

Kalaya had only been half-joking when she talked about you finding your pretty boy and now you had, your sights completely set on this drummer. Plus you figured that if Kalaya knew Brian, you had an automatic in.

Suddenly, you were making eye contact with the drummer but instead of being surprised or flustered, you started your mission. Biting your lip in a smile, rocking your hips to the rhythm he was playing, and tilting your head to the side, you made it clear you were checking him out. That seemed to spur him on and the drums got louder as he played harder. If he was trying to impress you, it was working, but more because it was a testament to his stamina than to his skill. Besides, you could see that you had done plenty to impress him by subverting his expectations and staring him down instead of swooning as soon as he caught your eye with his.

Not that there was anything wrong with swooning, in fact Kalaya was swooning over Brian at this very second because he had smiled at her, but you liked being the one to cause the swoon. You knew you were attractive and knew other people knew it too. You were confident and knew what you wanted, an energy you liked to radiate when you were around pretty boys.

The drummer was the one to break eye contact first, looking around the room for a minute as if trying to distract himself. Then he looked back at you and you just smiled and waved at him. By the way his eyes widened and cheeks pinkened further than they already were, you could tell he was a little flustered, and laughed, something you were sure he could see as well. He didn’t seem to be looking away this time, so you did instead, turning your attention to Kalaya to make sure she was doing alright.

“How’s it going, babe? He in love with you yet?” you half-yelled into her ear because the music was so loud.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “More like I’ve just fallen further in love with him. But he has smiled and waved at me a couple times in between songs.”

“See? Don’t be all modest!” you urged.

“Well what about you? I see the eyes you’re making at that pretty boy drummer. He’s just the epitome of your type, huh?” Kalaya shot back.

You sighed happily, “He really is.”

About an hour later, the last encore was done and a cheap curtain had separated the band from the rest of the pub as they packed up their instruments. But apparently they would be joining the crowd later on, based on the talk of the people that had been standing around you up front. Not everyone seemed aware of this fact or maybe they just didn’t care, because the crowd thinned by half once the set was over. Quickly making a game plan, you and Kalaya decided to wait by the bar but not at the bar, in the path the band would most likely take from backstage to get a drink.

After waiting for only 10 minutes, you saw a curly head of hair bobbing through a doorway and realized they were on the move. You signaled to Kalaya with your eyes that they were appearing behind her (now out of their stage clothes), not interrupting what she was saying in an effort to remain casual. Once she had realized what you meant, she slowed her words, hoping to get interrupted. The blonde came into view and you flicked your eyes over to him just once, letting him know you knew he was there.

“Kalaya?” Brian asked, tapping her shoulder lightly.

Expertly, Kalaya turned like she was surprised, “Brian!”

They hugged quickly and she pulled back, “You all were amazing, just like last time.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad I actually have a chance to talk to you this time, instead of rushing off to deal with a flat tire on the van,” Brian smiled. Then he looked over to you and Kalaya jumped in.

“This is my friend,” she introduced you. “We went to Oxford together. She already knows all about you.”

Brian looked a little pleased at that, and Kalaya brought a hand to her mouth, realizing her faux pas.

“She means your band. She had to make a hard sell for me to come all the way back to Oxford to see the show,” you explained away what she said even though you all knew that wasn’t what she had meant.

“Well I’m glad you both made it,” Brian said with an easy smile. “Speaking of the band, I’d better introduce them all.”

Brian stepped back so he was in line with the other three and Kalaya turned so she was facing them next to you.

“This here is Freddie, our wonderful singer. Then we have John—”

“You can call me Deaky,” he interjected.

“Deaky then, our fantastic bassist. And finally our resident pretty boy himself, our drummer, Roger,” Brian finished with a bit of a smirk.

You all exchanged pleasantries and as Kalaya was drawn into a conversation with the rest of the band, Roger stepped closer to you.

“Pretty boy, huh?” You asked with a teasing smile. He nodded, about to say something in defense or make a jab at Brian, but you spoke first, “Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Roger flushed at that, a small smile coming to his face, but he changed the subject, “So you went to Oxford?”

“Yes,” you said slowly.

“Not a big fan?” he asked.

“No, I did really enjoy it here, just kind of small for my taste. I mean, over an hour to get to where anyone big’s playing and never having heard of fine dining? I suppose it was a good change of pace, or at least that’s what my parents say, but I’m glad to be back in the city,” you explained and Roger listened intently.

“So raised in London then?”

“Yes, except for the summers. Then it was Nice or Barcelona. Oh and one year New York,” you knew you were being a little overt with the flaunting of your upbringing, but you could tell that Roger was the type of person to enjoy the best things in life, and his eyes were as big as dinner plates as he listened to you, clearly impressed. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m just from Truro, not quite as glamorous as all those,” Roger told you and while he wasn’t exactly embarrassed, you could tell he was waiting for your reaction.

“Truro’s in Cornwall, right?” you asked and Roger confirmed with a nod. “Then I’ve been there! Yeah a couple years ago Kalaya and I went on a trip to the sea and took a little detour to Truro, we loved it! Perfect for a little weekend getaway.”

Roger smiled big, your praising of his hometown charming him, “But how is Truro on the way to the sea? Wouldn’t you just go to Brighton or Southend?”

You smiled, laughing at yourself, “Well I got it in my head that I wanted to go to the very western tip of the country, and luckily Kalaya is a good enough sport to go along with my whims.”

“Do you often have these types of whims?” Roger asked and there was more cheek behind the words than in their meanings.

“Well I adore travelling,” you said, a little smirk coming to your face. Then you fixed your gaze to Roger’s eyes, “And my personal philosophy is to do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whoever I want.”

Roger swallowed, his mouth parted, and he blinked a couple times before responding, trying a laugh to cover for his reaction to your words, “A bit hedonistic, no?”

“Hmm, a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, no?” you responded quickly. Not that you actually knew that Roger was similar to you in that way, but watching how he reacted to everything you said made you sure enough to say that.

Scoffing as if that weren’t true, all he could say was, “What?--who?”

“How are the two of you getting on?” the bassist, John-- Deaky, interjected, coming to stand so the three of you made a triangle.

“Well Roger here just called me hedonistic,” you said matter-of-factly, looking at Deaky with wide eyes.

“Ha! You’re one to talk, Rog,” Deaky told him, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing.

Roger just looked at you, surprised that you would’ve brought it up to Deaky. You just stuck your tongue between your teeth and smiled victoriously; you loved to keep boys on their toes, especially ones that looked so cute when they were surprised.

Deaky turned to you, “You look really familiar, have we met before?”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing, but you had shorter hair, right?” you looked at him more closely.

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, this is pretty new.”

“What university did you go to?” you asked.

“Chelsea college in London, I was in electrical engineering,” Deaky replied.

You exclaimed in recognition, “The scholarship dinner! You got my family’s engineering scholarship, that was like five years ago.”

“That’s right! We hung out during that tour of one of the facilities when our parents were talking endlessly,” he remembered and you laughed along with him.

“Wait, I thought the only private scholarship you got was from that family with the shipping business that are, like, filthy rich,” Roger said and you and John just looked at each other and then at Roger, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then his eyes went wide, “That’s your family?!”

“Might wanna close your mouth Rog,” Deaky said with a laugh, tapping Roger’s chin as you had Kalaya’s.

A voice came from the bar and you looked to see Brian waving the three of you over. Deaky immediately started walking but you hung back next to Roger.

He seemed to be walking slowly because he was still processing the information, “I kinda thought you were exaggerating about the summer trips. And you weren’t kidding when you said whatever you want whenever you want, were you?”

You reached over and tucked a stray strand of hair away from his face and Roger looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, “Mm-mm, wasn’t kidding about the whoever, either.”

Roger looked back up at you and you winked before turning to the others and gladly accepting the drink held out to you by Brian.

Chatting in a little group with Brian, Kalaya, and Deaky, you noticed that Freddie and Roger were off to the side but didn’t pay it too much mind. You were more focused on whether this Brian liked your Kalaya as much as she did he, and judging by the way he stared at her with adoration in his eyes as she talked, he did.

Standing apart from the rest of you with Freddie, Roger took a gulp of his drink as he looked at you laughing with the others.

“Fred, man, I can hardly keep up with this girl. We’ve only been talking for like ten minutes and all the things she says! I hardly know whether I wanna be with her or be her,” Roger told Freddie.

“What do you mean?” Freddie said with a confused laugh.

“Well she’s beautiful and funny and smart, sophisticated, has great taste--” “I think you’re confusing her with me,” Freddie interrupted with a sly smile.

“Ha-ha, Fred. Did I mention she’s also loaded?” Roger deadpanned.

“She’s got me there,” Freddie admitted. “Well are you going to do anything about it?

“I would, but she’s kinda intimidating,” Roger said and when Freddie looked confused he elaborated. “Like, she’s been flirting more than me tonight, even when we were onstage.”

“That’s saying something,” Freddie agreed.

“Exactly, so I feel like she’s someone who would want to make the first move,” Roger pointed out. And then a little quieter, “which you know I have absolutely no problem with.”

Freddie laughed loudly, “Well if things don’t work out between you two, I might just have to make her my best friend.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Roger said with a frown.

Patting Roger’s arm, Freddie rolled his eyes and told him, “I know darling, it was a joke.”

Deaky, Kalaya, Brian, and you got up from your seats at the bar, catching their attention, so they walked over to where you were.

“We’re walking the girls out,” Deaky explained because Brian was too busy chatting with Kalaya. Freddie and Roger nodded and then Deaky led the way, cutting through the crowd to the exit. Brian and Kalaya were lock-step behind him, and Freddie, Roger, and you followed up last, in that order.

“Leaving already?” Freddie asked you.

“Yeah, well if we want to get rooms for the night we better head over,” you explained.

“Oh are you staying at the Inn too?” Roger asked, his ears pricking up.

You nodded with a little laugh, “Seeing as it’s the only lodging in town, yes.”

Freddie laughed and Roger smiled sheepishly, thinking of something to say when you put your hand on his arm.

“Hold on a second, I gotta grab our ride,” you said quickly before heading towards the tables in the back.

Freddie and Roger shared a confused look, having assumed that the two of you would call a cab. You were walking back only twenty seconds later, slipping on your fur coat.

Roger gasped softly and gripped Freddie’s arm, “Fuck Fred, I’m in love.”

Freddie laughed, but his surprise-widened eyes were on the coat too, “With her or the coat?”

“Both,” he whispered back as you came up next to them, joined by a man and woman.

“Okay, quick introductions,” you said, realizing that you were standing halfway obstructing the doors. “Freddie, Roger, this is Chay and Martie. Technically Chay’s my family’s driver, but they’re both more like my siblings that I drag along to things like these. Chay and Martie, this is Freddie and Roger, of the band.”

“Yes, we assumed,” Martie said with a laugh, shaking Freddie’s hand first and then switching with her husband.

“Looks like we should head outside,” Chay pointed out, and the five of you exited into the cool night air. “We loved the set, you all were fantastic. And by the way, she did not have to drag us here, we were rather excited to see you guys ourselves.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Freddie said with a warm smile and it was infectious enough that everyone smiled as well.

“Well, shall we go bring ‘round the car, babe?” Martie asked, always good at keeping Chay from getting too distracted.

“Yes, right, nice to meet you,” Chay said, and they all did their goodbyes.

You turned to Freddie and Roger, “Guess I’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk more, Freddie, I feel like we’d have a lot to talk about.”

“Me too dear,” Freddie said warmly. Then he gave you a pointed look, “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”

You both knew what he meant, and by the looks of Roger’s flushed face, he did too although he pretended not to hear. It was hard to help the pleased smile that came to your face when you realized Roger must have talked about you to Freddie.

Freddie took a look at Roger and then said to both of you, “I’ll just go say goodbye to Kalaya then.”

He walked away and you took a couple steps toward Roger, until you were only about a foot apart. Roger wasn’t much taller than you, especially in your platforms, but from that distance you had to look up to look him in the eyes. You didn’t say anything, just looked at him and waited until he blushed again and looked down for a second, eyes landing on your coat.

“That coat looks great on you,” he rushed out, tucking a piece of hair behind his hair, which did nothing to calm him as it just reminded him of when you did earlier.

You looked down at your coat too, hands brushing over the soft, brown fur, “You like it?”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said quickly and you chuckled.

“You know Roger,” you stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. “I think we’d have a lot to talk about too. Probably have lots in common. You should call me sometime to figure out all what that is.”

With that, you reached into the inside pocket of your coat and pulled out one of your cards that you always kept handy ‘cause you never knew when a networking opportunity would present itself. You held the card up between your index and middle finger before reaching behind Roger and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. You let yourself linger that close to him and drank in his wide eyes, the way his mouth parted and how he seemed to be leaning down closer and closer to you.

“The car’s here y/n!” Kalaya called out to you, pulling both you and Roger out of the moment.

You looked at him once more, touching his arm again and then walking away. Throwing him a smile over your shoulder, you called, “See you later, pretty boy!”

Kalaya and you got into the back of the car and waved through the window to the four boys that were watching you leave. Once they were out of sight you turned to her.

“Good catch interrupting me and Roger then,” you told her.

“Always leave ‘em wanting more, right?” Kalaya said with a grin.

You laughed, “Right, exactly. By the way, things with Brian seemed to be going good.”

“They were, we had a lot of fun talking tonight. I think he likes me,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You nudged her, “I know he likes you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night.”

“Same with Roger and you,” she pointed out.

“Well, I know he likes me too,” you said with a smirk and the whole car laughed. “You know if I were the type of person to get embarrassed, that’d do it.”

_____

A week later, during a giant heat wave that left no one able to do anything but sit inside and swelter, Roger called you around 7:00pm. Because you were lying on your bed with a fan pointed directly at you and you had a phone right next to your bed, it only took one ring for you to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, y/n?” you could tell by his voice it was Roger, but you kept that to yourself.

“Yep, who’s this?” you asked pleasantly.

“Roger from, um, Queen,” he said hesitantly.

“Oh, Roger, hello! You don’t have to say ‘from Queen,’ you know, I remember you perfectly,” you told him, sitting up so you were leaning back on your arm. Before he could say something in response, you started again, “So how are you, how are you doing? Have you had any more shows?”

“Good, I’m great. We had two more shows last weekend further north and we’ll have more next week around town--”

“Oh really? I think Kalaya and I would really love to go to another show, we so enjoyed the last,” you interrupted.

“Brilliant, you should definitely come, both of you, I can get you the details,” he returned and you interjected with a quick thanks. “But, what about you? How are you?”

“Ugh I’d be better, but it’s just so hot today,” you complained, flopping back onto the mattress.

“Well what are you wearing?” Roger asked and you grinned.

“Oh, getting a little cheeky are we, pretty boy? Haven’t even gone out and you’re asking what I’m wearing?” you asked mock-incredulously just to make him flustered.

“No--no, I just meant like if you’re hot, like maybe,” Roger was babbling, trying to find the best way to explain what he meant. “Just if you’re wearing layers or something thick or something I just--”

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you,” you said with a giggle. “Let’s see, I’m wearing satin running shorts, that to be honest are too short to run in, and one of those little strappy halter crop tops, you know the kind?”

“Y-yeah,” was all Roger could muster.

“So nothing that’s making me hot. And I’m not even wearing a bra so that’s not making me uncomfortable,” you reasoned as if this were a reasonable conversation.

You could hear his breath quicken over the phone and there was a pause where neither of you said anything.

“Maybe I should just go nude.”

You knew what you were doing, practically torturing the poor boy, but he had been the one to bring up what you were wearing, and it was the truth. But if you were simply answering his question with no impure intentions you would’ve been a lot less descriptive.

Roger made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh and then that was it so you sat up and kept going, “That reminds me, I’ve just had an idea. Today seems like a write off because it’s too hot to function, but it’s supposed to be cooler tomorrow, are you doing anything?”

He cleared his throat before he answered, “Um, no, I’m not busy.”

“Great! Kalaya and I were going to go shopping but I guess she’s hanging out with Brian instead. You can come with me and offer advice,” you told him.

“You’d want my advice?” Roger asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’ve seen your clothes both onstage and off. You have great style, Roger,” you affirmed and he smiled at the praise.

“Thanks, so do you. Um, that sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay, do you know the boutique on the corner of 10th and Wilder?” Roger hummed yes. “Good, let’s meet there at 11:30?”

“Perfect, looking forward to it,” he said flirtily.

You smiled, “Me too. Well, I should probably go, Kalaya and I are going swimming tonight at my parents’ to make up for her flaking out tomorrow. I’d invite you along, but even though my parents are out of town, they’d definitely hear about their daughter skinny dipping with some random pretty boy they don’t know. See you tomorrow!”

“I… bye,” Roger said, sounding incredibly sad that he couldn’t stay on or go swimming.

You hung up and then immediately rushed to Kalaya’s room to tell her all about the conversation.

_____

When you walked into the boutique at 11:25am, the clerk, Ayan, waved to you, as you were a frequent patron of the store. You had probably already seen all that there was to see, but thought that Roger’s fresh eyes might see something you hadn’t given much thought to before. There were a couple other customers around, but it was a little slow for a Saturday morning so you went to chat with Ayan about any new arrivals while you waited for Roger to arrive.

They were explaining that the boutique had gotten some fur coats from an estate that were in impeccable condition. The boutique was one of your favorites because it stocked mainly independent designers, consignment, and didn’t turn up its nose at thrifted finds of luxury items. In fact, it was where you had gotten your fur coat a few years before from the estate of a well known West End actress from the forties.

“There’s this one really lovely coyote--” Ayan cut themself off, eyes widening as they looked towards the door. “Don’t look now, but some special type of pretty boy is just about to walk in.”

Thinking only one person could fit that description, you looked, smiling as Roger walked in, scanning the store for you.

“You looked!” Ayan whisper-yelled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound drew Roger’s eyes over to you and you waved before turning back to them.

“Don’t worry, he’s meeting me. See you in a while with loads to buy under your commission,” you told them, winking.

“That’s why you’re my favorite customer,” they joked and you chuckled as you walked away.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said cheerfully as you reached him before leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. He kissed you back and when you pulled back his cheeks were the cute pink that you were getting used to seeing.

“Hey, nice shirt,” he complimented.

You looked down at yourself. You were wearing high waisted medium wash denim shorts and a Hendrix t-shirt tied to the side at your waist.

“Thanks, I got it at his concert I went to,” you explained, smoothing it out.

“Where’d you see him?” Roger asked curiously.

“Royal Albert Hall, in ‘69. Me and Kalaya went together, it was a great show,” you said, remembering how it felt to see him perform.

“No way, I went to that concert too!” Roger exclaimed and you laughed excitedly.

“I wonder if we saw each other at all,” you said, smiling at the thought.

“Uh-uh, I would’ve remembered you perfectly,” Roger told you with a bold smile and this time, you were the one that was flustered.

“Should we start? I’m counting on you to find whatever I’ve overlooked in this store,” you said, changing the subject as you turned towards a rack of clothes.

“Do you have anything specific that you need?” Roger asked distractedly as he flicked through the hangers.

“The only need I have is to have all the best things this store has to offer,” you said airily.

Roger laughed and turned to you, saying teasingly, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re spoilt?”

“They usually stop when I pay them not to,” you said straight-faced, but Roger’s laugh made you break and you laughed together, leaning closer until you were sharing the same air and you placed a hand on his arm to steady yourself.

You were just wearing sandals, so Roger was taller to you than the week before and you actually had to tilt your head up to make eye contact this close. Roger’s laughter-brightened eyes looked at your still smiling lips and you noticed, the shift in mood making your breath quicken and your heart race. Under your fingers, the warm skin of his arm made you want to feel that warmth all over, and you wondered how long it would be until you could.

Then another customer brushed by, mumbling an “excuse me” awkwardly and the two of you were pulled away from a moment yet again. Your hand dropped from his arm and he turned back to the rack. It wasn’t long before your chatter started up again, especially as Roger found things that he liked for you to try on.

When he had made his way through the entire store, he had six things for you. He would have had a lot more but most of what he liked you already had.

First up was a black mesh long sleeve shirt that Roger told you to try on underneath your band shirt. It was longer than your t-shirt and you tucked it into your shorts, so your midriff that was exposed by the gap in between your clothes was covered by the mesh.

You came out of the dressing room, holding your arms out for Roger to see and doing a twirl, smiling widely.

“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling to match.

You nodded enthusiastically, “You know, when I saw this weeks ago I had no idea how to style it, but I love this! Very punk, street fashion, I’m a woman of the people.”

“Oh my gosh, never mind, I’m not sure you deserve to wear that,” Roger reached out and grabbed the sleeve, acting like he was going to pull it off.

“Stop!” you said through laughter. “You’ll stretch it out!”

He let you go and you went back in to try on more. There ended up being two dresses that you didn’t like because of color for one and the sheer amount of ruffles for the other. Then a shirt you realized you had in another color at home and a skirt that was itchy. Finally, there was a denim shirt that you didn’t really like because it was so plain. But you put it on anyway, figuring you’d humor him.

It was medium wash, the same color as your shorts, and it had some flowers embroidered in colorful thread which you supposed were nice, but overall it looked blah.

You stepped out of the dressing room again and Roger saw your not-so-happy face.

“What’s wrong?”

You scrunched up your face, “Don’t like it, it looks weird.”

Roger rolled his eyes with a smile, “That’s because you’re wearing it wrong. C’mere.”

You stepped close to him and he said a soft “may I” to which you nodded. His long fingers unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of the shirt. Then he tied it in a knot, fixing the ends so they laid correctly. His fingers brushed your skin and though they were warm, the feeling made you shiver. Roger was moving his hands so delicately, precisely, and you felt a rush of want go through you.

“And since you’re wearing a t-shirt,” even more carefully, he undid the upper buttons, leaving only the middle two done. Then he turned you around to look in the mirror and immediately your mind was changed. The way Roger styled it emphasized your waist instead of hiding it and now the monotone look worked instead of looking drab.

“How do you feel about it now?” Roger asked with a proud little smile.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, looking at him through the mirror.

Roger stepped past you into the dressing room and grabbed the mesh shirt, “Well here are your two finds.”

He handed the shirt to you, but before he could return his hands to his sides, you grabbed one of them, sliding your fingers along his to his palm and feeling the calluses there from drumming.

Roger watched your hand on his and only looked up when you started talking.

“Did you see anything else you liked?”

“Oh, do you want more than these two things? I can look again,” Roger suggested.

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand, “No, I mean did you see anything you liked for yourself? So I can thank you for helping me with these.”

“You don’t have to,” Roger protested.

“I might be spoiled, but I like to do some spoiling myself. I want to get you something, and this shop is too good for nothing to catch your eye. Anything you liked, nothing’s too much,” you told him, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Anything?” Roger hesitated.

“Anything, Roger,” you said, using your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. That seemed to reassure him.

“I did see this display with this really gorgeous…” he trailed off, still uncertain, looking down.

“Really gorgeous… what?” you prompted.

“… fur coat,” he looked up to see your reaction. You were beaming.

“That’s the one Ayan was telling me about, the coyote one, right? It is gorgeous, they'll be so happy that it’s gonna sell already!” you exclaimed, using your hold on his hand to pull him over to that part of the store.

Roger followed you, a little confused about what you said, but glad that you seemed so happy. You let go of Roger’s hand, set your clothes on the corner of a nearby table, and pulled the coat off the mannequin, handing it to Roger. He pulled it on carefully, pulling the sides so they were equal.

“Here,” you put your hands behind his neck and then collected the hair that had gotten trapped underneath the coat and moved it to where it should be. He smiled his thanks and you smiled back, before turning him around to face the mirror he was standing in front of.

You stepped a little to the side of him and watched him look at himself. He let out a little laugh, the kind that meant “damn, I didn’t think I’d look this good,” and you had to agree.

Then he turned back around to you, “Whaddya think?”

You looked him up and down, the desire you felt earlier only growing, “You look… hot.”

Roger was a little surprised at your outright statement, but that was nothing compared to the surprise he felt when you grabbed the lapels of the coat and used them to pull him to you, kissing him full on the lips without hesitation.

As shocked as he was at the spontaneity, kissing you was something he had been thinking about for a while, so he recovered quickly, kissing you back. He put one hand just above your waist and the other on one of your hands, keeping it there.

But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard the sound of heels clacking and pulled back. Roger’s lips followed yours, and you giggled, leaning back towards him. You only planned to give him another peck but his soft lips distracted you for another five seconds or so before you remembered what you were doing.

You pulled back, dropping your hands, except Roger kept the one he had been holding and linked his fingers with yours, smiling at you. He still looked clear-eyed and focused after the kiss, so you decided that you had to get him home quickly so you could remedy that.

“So I was thinking we should go ring up and then go to my place. To drop off my new clothes and… stuff,” you said, a bit of a suggestive emphasis on the last word.

“Let’s,” Roger said, picking your shirt up off the table.

The two of you ended up taking off your new finds, figuring it’d be too hot outside for a fur coat and denim shirt, and then headed to the checkout. Ayan was pleased, but not all too surprised that you were taking home the new fur, even if it was technically going to Roger’s home. Roger, to his credit, didn’t have any more trouble with you paying, but insisted that he carry back all the bags. You agreed with the stipulation that he would still hold your hand, which he did.

You only lived a ten minute walk away, and Roger had taken the underground, so you walked the way home. There was chatting along the way, but it was hard to get too deep into any one topic with the feeling of each other’s hands and the anticipation of what was to come distracting you.

Once you got to your building, you were ushered in by the doorman that tipped his hat and wished you both a good day. Then the lobby manager told you a package had arrived and gave you a little thin rectangular box the size of a book. Finally you got into the elevator and the attendant hit the button for the highest floor, yours.

“It’s from my parents,” you told Roger about the box.

“Are they still travelling?”

“Yeah, they should be in Barcelona right about now,” you replied.

“Must be beautiful there,” Roger mused and you hummed in agreement. Then the elevator dinged and the two of you got off, waving to the attendant as the doors closed. You unlocked one of the two doors that were in the hallway (the other was the stairs), and opened the door, ushering Roger in first since he was carrying things.

You took off your shoes to the right of the entryway, next to a pile of other shoes and Roger did the same. Then you grabbed the garment bag that held Roger’s fur coat and hung it on the coat stand. You also took the paper bag with your shirts and put it on your dining table with the package as Roger followed you the rest of the way into your apartment. As you walked about, putting things where they went, Roger was looking around at your place. You had a dining area that turned into a living room with giant floor to ceiling windows on the walls that looked out over the city. Roger was absorbed by trying to see if he could see his building from here when he heard you calling him.

It took him a minute to figure out where you were; there was a long hallway that led to many doors. But it turned out you were in the first off of the dining room which was the kitchen.

As he came into the room, you looked up at him with a smile, “Here, wash up, I cut us up some peaches, if you like them.”

“Love ‘em,” he replied sweetly as he headed to the sink.

“Do you want anything to drink? I have water, soda, tea…”

“Water’s great,” Roger answered and you got two glasses. “I was looking out the windows, you have quite the view.”

“We’ll have to eat this in my bedroom, you can see Hyde Park from there,” you told him and he grinned excitedly, grabbing the bowl of peaches and then walking behind you, nudging you forward with his knee and you laughed.

“Right so, what are all these doors then? Seems like an awful lot for one flat,” Roger teased and you chuckled.

So you pointed to each as you came to it, “Bathroom, office, guest bedroom that Kalaya uses as a closet, Kalaya’s bedroom with an ensuite, closet that also leads to my room--”

“Wait, like a walk-in closet? Oh I have to see this,” Roger said, heading for the door.

“Later, later, I promise,” you said, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back. “We still have the pièce de résistance, my bedroom.”

With that, you pushed open the door and nudged Roger to walk in. He did, eyes quickly taking in your four-poster bed, vanity, bookshelves, record player and collection, chaise lounge, and finally matching windows to the ones in the living room. He walked over to the chaise which was in front of the windows and set down the bowl on the little side table, looking out the windows. You set down the glasses and stood next to him.

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” he gestured to the chaise.

“Yeah, when I’m home alone. I’ll just sit and watch the city live its life for awhile. It’s like people-watching but on a bigger scale,” you explained and he nodded.

So Roger sat down on the chaise, back against the raised end and legs spread out in front of him. He smiled at you and patted the space between his legs. You sat there, your back against his front, but you tilted yourself to the side so you could face each other more easily.

Roger grabbed the peaches and the two of you fed each other slices as you watched the city. It was a quiet and lovely moment with a growing underpinning of desire as the juices dripped down your chins and you kissed away the excess. Once the peaches were gone, you turned more towards him, catching his lips with yours fully once again. The taste of peach lingered on both of your lips, and the kisses were just as sweet as the fruit, just as soft as its skin.

Bringing your hands to Roger’s face, you swiped your tongue along his lower lip, moving it inside when he opened his mouth. Roger made a soft sound and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your chests were flush. Your breaths pushed you even closer and the feeling was intoxicating, all your senses consumed by the warmth of the moment. You tried adjusting to straddle Roger’s legs, but the angle of the chaise wasn’t very easy for that, so you pulled back, laughing lightly.

Roger had been even further into the kiss than you were so he wasn’t exactly sure why you were laughing but smiled all the same. This time, you saw his unfocused eyes and the tilted grin on his face and felt very proud of your work. Standing up, you brought Roger with you, grabbing the belt loops of his jeans to pull him with you as you walked backward towards your bed. Then you spun him around, pulling open one side of the gauzy curtains that were draped over the frame of your bed, and pushing Roger onto the bed. He laughed as he landed, scooting back so you could get on as well, letting the curtain fall back to its original place.

The light filtering through the curtains was hazy and soft, painting both you and Roger in amber light. Roger sat so his back was against your pillows and you made your way up his body, straddling his hips. His hands tentatively rested on your thighs, but he looked around your room once more.

“If this wasn’t already obvious, I really like your-- your decor,” Roger’s voice faltered as you took off your shirt, leaving you only in your bra.

You smiled mischievously, “I thought you would, pretty boy.”

***

Then you reached for his shirt’s hem, pulling it over his head. It left his waves a bit of a mess, so you combed your fingers through his hair. He hummed and closed his eyes as you did. When you were done, you threaded your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and leaned in for another kiss. The two of you already had a rhythm of push and pull that made it easy to get lost in the kiss. Your free hand smoothed over the tan skin of Roger’s torso, sliding across his pecs and down to his waist, and you felt goosebumps erupt over his skin, smiling into the kiss.

Roger’s hands moved from your thighs, up your torso to your breasts, feeling your nipples harden through your bra and when you moaned as Roger thumbed them, he smiled as well. Your hands went down to Roger’s waistband and you unbuttoned his jeans, pulling down the zipper and starting to shift them down his body. But his hand over one of yours stopped you and you both pulled back from the kiss.

“Can I… eat you out first?” his request wasn’t what you were expecting, but the look of desire in his eyes and the slout pout of his lips sent a bolt of heat to your core and you nodded quickly, switching places with him.

He did take off his pants, tossing them aside, left only in his boxer-briefs. You could see his hard-on, but he was focused on you. Roger unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts, slower than you had his, and pushed them down your legs with your underwear.

Spreading your legs gently, Roger laid between them, turning his head to kiss up the inner thigh of your left leg. His mouth pressed wet kisses into the skin, making your tummy flip and just when he got to the top of that thigh, he switched to the other. Once he was done with both, he pressed kisses over your slit before dragging his tongue up through your folds. You let out a shaky breath as his tongue pressed on your clit, and you tangled your fingers in the hair at the crown of his head.

Roger formed his mouth around your clit and sucked softly, making you moan lowly. He pressed a kiss to your clit then looked up to you with wide eyes and asked, “Is that good?”

The way he asked wasn’t condescending like he already knew the answer, but more eager like he wanted to make sure it was.

So you hummed and nodded, “Yes, Roger, you’re so good, keep going.”

His mouth returned to your clit and he swirled his tongue around it, making you gasp out, “Oh-- yes, Roger, just like that, fuck.”

The praise made him even more set on making you feel good, so he brought a finger to your entrance, and pushed it in slowly. His mouth didn’t slow on your clit, but he was searching with his finger to find your g-spot, knowing he did when your legs twitched. Roger slipped in another finger with the first, immediately working on your g-spot and the feeling was so strong and so good that it was almost too much and your legs tried to close around him.

But Roger just used his free arm to hold you in place. He kept the same rhythm with his fingers and mouth and the pleasure within you just grew and grew. You could feel the tension in your lower stomach tightening with every brush of his fingers inside of you and every circle of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh, I’m close, Roger, fuck,” you managed to get out and Roger moaned against you, making your breathing uneven. “You’re such-- such a, fuck, a good, oh, such a good boy.”

Roger whined against you and you immediately came, the vibrations spreading hot pleasure all over your body as your back arched and you moaned loudly, tightening your grip in Roger’s hair. He kept going, wanting to make you feel as good as possible, partly because he couldn’t believe how hot it was to see you like that.

You were breathing like you had run a mile, but slowly coming down and you loosened your hold on Roger’s hair, combing through it again. Roger’s hum on your clit made you jump a little so you touched the side of his face to get him to stop; he propped himself on his elbows to look at you.

With a playful smileful you asked, “Did you like that, pretty boy?”

He just looked at you confusedly, so you explained, “Well you’re grinding into the mattress so I thought it must’ve been good.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he realized what he had been doing. He stopped, sitting up quickly.

“It’s okay. No need to be embarrassed,” you told him, sitting up and running a thumb over his pink cheek. “I’m glad you felt good too. Now, why don’t you let me make you feel even better, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed, “Yeah.”

You switched spots with him and leaned down for a kiss, running your tongue into Roger’s parted mouth and getting a taste of yourself in return. Reaching behind you, you undid your bra and took it off. Roger’s hands went to your breasts and you bit his lip when he pinched your nipples, moaning together.

You kissed from his lips to his jaw then down his neck, nipping again on his pulse point and where his neck met his shoulder. As you made your way down his chest, you pressed soft kisses basically wherever you could reach, and Roger squirmed a little underneath you, bright blue eyes watching your actions closely. A few kisses to his tummy and above his waistband and then you took off his underwear with his help, his cock hard and flushed red against his stomach.

Settled on your knees between his legs, and putting one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, you grabbed his dick in your other hand and bent down, pressing kisses along the shaft and then peppering them on the head. Roger moaned softly and you started pumping him and tongued his slit.

You sucked on his head, using your tongue to swirl around it and he groaned, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Pulling off, you pressed a couple more kisses to this head and stroked him, “Such a pretty boy and such a pretty cock.”

Roger’s hips bucked and you hid your smile by going down on him again, not giving him any break. You worked your mouth down along with your hand, building a rhythm that was making precum bead on his head, which you happily sucked off.

Looking up at Roger, you saw that his head was tossed back, eyes closed with his lip between his teeth. You lifted your hand from his thigh up, brushing your thumb along his lower lip so he would let it go. As he did, he looked at you, tilting his head forward. His pupils were blown and he looked desperate as he watched you. You got an idea and a shiver ran across your body. You stuck your first two fingers out and slowly pushed them into his mouth, Roger’s lips immediately closing around them and starting to suck.

Both of you moaned; him around your fingers and you around his cock, making his hips buck again. You took him deeper in your mouth, as deep as you could go, gagging twice around his cock before pulling off again. You let the excess spit in your mouth fall onto his dick and used your hand to spread it around, jerking him off faster than before.

Roger was watching you intently, moaning whenever you twisted your wrist. You licked your lips and swallowed, “Your lips look so good around my fingers, Roger. You’re such a pretty boy, all desperate for me.”

He tried to say something that you could barely make out as “please.”

“Shhh, I got you. Do you wanna be a good boy and come for me?” you asked sweetly, lowering your head back towards his cock.

Roger nodded, keeping your fingers in his mouth, so you brought his head back into your mouth and sucked in time with your hand. You could tell Roger was getting close with the way his hips were shifting and you could feel the vibrations of his moans on your fingers stronger. His thighs were tensing so you pulled your fingers from his mouth, gripping his thigh with your wet fingers, and the slight dig of your nails into his skin set him off as he warned you hoarsely, “I’m gonna come-- fuck.”

He came as you jacked his dick off into your mouth, swallowing his cum as quickly as you could. His high moans of your name ignited a burn between your thighs but you focused on the task at hand. You pulled off, stroking him slowly now and using your tongue to lick any leftover spots of cum off his head. As his breath evened, you pressed one more kiss to his head and then sat up and moved to lay next to him.

***

Roger turned towards you and you kissed him quickly. You tangled one leg between his and started brushing his hair away from his still flushed face. One of his hands rested on your waist, tapping out a simple rhythm.

“You’re-- you’re good at that,” he told you with a little smile.

“Thanks, so are you, pretty boy,” you said, smiling when he flushed. “Are you ever not going to blush when I call you that?”

He looked away, then looked back, an unbelieving laugh escaping him, “Probably not.”

“Good,” you laughed, bringing him in for another kiss.

Later, after cleaning up, as the two of you were redressing, Roger remembered that he had yet to see your closet.

“You promised,” he reminded teasingly.

“I remember,” you rolled your eyes, but opened the door and led him in. He stepped in slowly, taking in every inch of very organized racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories with his eyes, which was a lot of inches.

“This closet is literally the size of my living room. My clothes would only fill one rack. Oh, I want this amount of nice clothes,” Roger said wistfully, running his hands across the racks.

“You know, I could help with that, for a small price,” you said with a smile.

“Are you thinking… sex? Because I’m already feeling like your sugar baby with the coat immediately turning into us hooking up,” Roger said and you could not tell if he was joking.

A look of amused shock took over your face as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped, “I was thinking more like you keep helping me with my own shopping so I focus on finding the best things instead of buying everything in the store, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” Roger said with a sheepish smile.

“And excuse you, ‘immediately turning into us hooking up?’ it’s not like I jumped you in the store!” you said, pushing his shoulder.

“Well, you kind of did jump me,” he countered, stepping in front of you and placing his hands on your waist. You scoffed, not touching him. So he took your hands and put them on his shoulders, placing his back on your waist. You pretended to be mad and looked away, not making any move to separate yourself from him.

Roger leaned closer, only a few inches from your face, “I was gonna say that I wouldn't mind being your sugar baby, it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh, looking at him, and he did. “It’s a sweet deal for you because you get stuff and sex. I can get sex from anyone, the only payment worth it from you is your sense of style.”

“Well then I’ll happily pay with that,” Roger nodded. He smiled and you rolled your eyes at his absurdity, but let him press his lips to yours in a kiss that made up for it.

★★★

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#so they hook up instead of sleeping together bc I couldn't do 11k I just couldn't #anyway sub!rog is the best and I had so much fun writing him #hope y'all enjoy!!!!#queen #roger taylor #fic #oneshot #the best things ain't free #queenmylovely #smut #roger taylor x reader #queen x reader #roger meddows taylor #roger meddows taylor x reader #rog #sub!rog

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tea-with-cinnamontoast · 3 years

Text

family.

[A/N: E. this is the nhs family day au thing,, i actually like it wow-]

"Ugh, family day. Stupid 'Family Bonding' day," the puple-haired teen mumbled, cleaning up his room. The same thing every year, Norrisville High had a 'Family Bonding' day where the students are supposed to bring at least one person from their family to school and apparently, bond. Howard said there was a bazaar, lots of games, and many yummy food. Randy didn't know, because he never participated. His dad divorced with his mom, and his mom is too busy working, that he never joined.

He always wanted to, he admitted. Randy wanted a time with his family, but he drifted apart from his mom and lost contact with his dad. The teen imagined laughing with his parents, playing ring-toss and winning prizes. He imagined himself eating cotton candy and making funny faces with his parents in the photo booth. He wanted to have fun and 'bond', as the school said it, and have the brucest day of the year. But, no. Randy was the only child of two adults, adults that Randy barely even talk to these days.

"Never once have I even joined, because of some stupid business mom always does," the boy grumbled to himself, taking his books away for tomorrow is Saturday. In worse cases, Randy would think that his mom was just avoiding him. He hated Family Bonding Day. He hated not being there. He hated not having fun. He hated not having a proper, fun and close family. To be honest, Randy didn't know if it was illegal to come in without a family, yet he was too embarrassed to try. He didn't want to be known as 'the shoob with no parents' cause that's how sad being a freshman is. Once you got a name, there is no coming back.

Done cleaning up with his bits and bobs, he grabbed the Nomicon and put it by his table, having a kind of feeling that the book was listening, but Randy shrugged the thought off and sighed. "Welp, another Family day, another full-day of playing Grave Puncher in my underwear, I guess," the teen begrudgingly went up to the top bunk and rested his eyes.

-- + --

"Wake up, ninja," a stern, yet soothing, voice called onto Randy. "We are going to be late." It took a while for the newly woken up boy to register the sound. Then it occurred to him, the source of the voice was from his own mentor, Nomi. The teen groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and saw Nomi with her gorgeous red hair in a, surprisingly, modern attire. Her hair was tied in a pony tail, yet some of her hair is still loose. She used a black shirt, with the nomicon pattern in it, and black pants. She also wore red shoes.

The boy looked over her shoulder and saw Satoru sitting on his sofa, resting his head and closed his eyes. He used a ponytail for his hair, red shirt with a Norisu Nine symbol and black pants. The First Ninja peeked his eyes opened for a bit and saw Randy awake, stretching his arm and walked over to the boy. "Come on, get ready. We are going to walk there soon," he urged, the boy nodding in response and quickly got ready.

Up in his normal clothes, the three went outside Randy's house and walked. The siblings talked and laughed as the boy silently listening, excited, yet curious, of where they were going. "Hey guyss, it'll be bruce if you tell me where we're going. Ooh! Training maybe? What am I going to learn today?" the teen asked the adults. "You will know when we will get there," Nomi answered smiling, which triggered Randy's curiosity even more. The boy fake-pouted as Satoru chuckled by his side. This'll be interesting.

All Randy knew was that they were heading uptown, where the malls, McFist Industry, Norrisville High, and other McStores lie. Maybe they were heading to the park? Oh! Maybe they're gonna shop together? The boy thought hard, wanting to know where they were going. It was rare for the two to spring out of the Nomicon, so maybe this is an emergency of some sort, where they have to train and teach Randy new stuff. It was exciting.

But when the teen got there it wasn't what he was expecting.

-- + --

To say he was surprised was an understatement, Randy was filled with a few feelings. Shock, curiosity, confusion, and posibly... happiness? It was mixed up and the boy didn't know what to expect. He was in front of the school. On Family Day. Without a family. Well, the last one was debatable, the two adults beside him we're like family to him, closer than his bond with his own mom. Which isn't supposed to be a good thing, Randy guessed.

"Why... are we here?" the boy asked, looking at the blue and yellow banners all over the place. The ribbon on the school were put up high, with the writings "HELLO PARENTS, WELCOME TO FAMILY BONDING DAY!!" written messily by one of the students using yellow paint. The outside was full of people, from adults to their children, from the teachers to the other staff. The place looked fun and cheerful, like there isn't a prison of an ancient evil sorcerer under it ('Which would be great if it wasn't literal,' Randy thought).

"Nomi overheard your predicament, so we thought it would be... bruce if you could come here," Satoru answered, the red head nodded. "But my parents aren't here and..." Randy said, not yet catching on the wind. The two raised their eye brows. 'Oh,' the boy realized. "You two are..." he tried to say.

Tears started swelling up in his eyes, but the others didn't notice. They were too busy looking at the well-decorated school, and Randy could appreciate that. Despite feeling the nerve to break down and say thank you in front of everyone, he decided that the best way to cherish the day is by giving the not-from-the-present sibling the best time of their 800 year-old life. But he couldn't stop the urge to hug the two, and so he did.

It took a while for Satoru and Nomi to register what the juice happened, but returned the hug and embrace the boy. Excitedly, Randy dragged the two past-ninjas inside, past the crowded place. The boy looked overjoyed and is jumping everywhere like an excited puppy, pointing everywhere and listing the things he wanted to do. For the two siblings though, it was a new sight.

They never saw most events that happened in the school from a book, mind you, so they were fascinated, but the two kept cool. "Not like the last time we visited eh, brother?" Nomi smiled and Satoru nodded. To be honest, Nomi was as interesting as her brother. Hidden well, she was amused at how far humanity came from her time.

"Randy! You're here?" a voice, the purple-haired teen recognize everywhere, called from wherever, running and panting towards him. "But I thought you... you know." Randy understood the silent phrase. 'Don't want to be seen without a parent'. The lanky teen just shrugged and answered with a simple "Yeah."

"Ah, Wienerman, such a wonderful time to meet again," Satoru greeted from behind, with Nomi came with a bit of resentment. The girl do not like Howard. He was selfish, mean, and overall not a good friend, but Randy needed his bro, and Nomi could understand that. But still, that doesn't mean she liked him and the feeling was mutual.

Satoru, on the other hand, liked (liked, mind you) that Wienerman kid. His friendship with Randy reminded him of his own with Plop Plop, and that was nice to see. Nomi didn't know what her brother saw on the orange-haired boy, but decided not to ask. Howard saw the two and gasped for a while, and Randy sheepishly smiled. "Yeah, they're posing as family," the tall teen confirmed.

"Well, bruce to see you again, First Ninj," Howard greeted back, grinning. He always liked the First Ninja and Plop Plop, they were cool, especially when the two teen went back in time. "Please, call me Satoru. Satoru Norisawa," the ninja replied. Nomi joined them, Randy winced a bit. He knew their resentment and that they would never get along. Howard addressed the redhead with a simple "You."

Nomi didn't answer nor greeted the boy, they just stared at each other, and Randy wondered which one hated the other more. It was a bit too intense for the teen's comfort, and Satoru catched his discomfort. "Nomi..." her brother started. "Howie! There you are!" someone called from behind, stopping Howard from his glaring contest.

"Randy! Great to see you here!" Howard's dad, Mort Wienerman, came. He later acknowledged the two adults and smiled, though he looked sort of confused. "And you must be Randy's..." he reached his hand for a shake, but he couldnt finish the statement. "Family," the teen answered simply. And he wasn't lying. "Nomi Norisawa, and my brother, Satoru," Nomi introduced, shaking the other's hand. "Mort Wienerman, family from Japan?" Howard's dad asked. Randy took this one, "Yeah, you could say that."

Nomi inspected the man in front of her, and concluded that this is Howard's father. Behind him, a girl with the same fantastic orange shade of hair walked towards them. "Nice to see that Randall can make it, for once," the female said, not looking up from her phone ("It's Randy! It's always been Randy!"). "I'm going to get some food, see you later," the man informed them. "Dad, can I stay with Cunningham?" Howard asked, and Mort nodded.

"So what do we start with first? I'm leaning to food, but I'm also thinking about games," Randy started, walking with the group. He wanted the two ninjas to have a time of their life, and he needed to be good. "I vote food," Howard said. "Of course you do. How about you two?" the lanky teen asked. "We have never been here, do you not remember?" Satoru answered, his hands crossed behind him, looking at the long food stands and games.

"Right. We're going to the game section!" Randy announced like a pirate captain and pointed, walking towards the games.

-- + --

"Haha! You are going to lose, dear brother!" Nomi exclaimed to his brother, the two playing skeeball. Randy laughed and watched with fascination. "Not if I beat you first, dearest Nomi," Satoru shot back, focusing on the game. The purple-haired teen didn't know if it was the "800 year old ninja knowledge" thing or that they practiced (which is unlikely...) but the two we're super skilled and evenly matched, both of them hitting the bullseye with every ball they had.

The game keeper watched with wide eyes, and others started coming, too. They watched the two spar it out in the game, as the two focused on the hole. The siblings finally stopped when they have no more balls, and deemed themselves the winner. There was a competitive glare between the Norisawas for a while, but it boiled down into laughter and enjoyment. Randy loved every second of it.

Randy loved they way they were just... here. Wow, even his mortal, easier-to-be-here mom couldn't be in this spot right now, yet two from-the-past siblings managed to be there. For him. The teen loved the way they would laugh together and take care of him, occasionally being an 'actual' parent just for him to be safe. He love the way they were open and fun, and would do anything to make Randy happy. He just loved them. They were like his own parent figure. Like a family.

Nomi's giggles and Satoru's chuckling filled Randy's heart with joy, and they decided to buy some food. The two never tried 'modern' food before, and for that reason, the teen wanted to pick the best food for them. "So Howard, name the best food here," he whispered to his biffer, who was munching on some chips. "Well, Cunningham. I think I would choose corndogs, then top it off with some cotton candy," the short boy answered, cheese from the chips smeared his mouth.

And so he did. The freshman bought some corndogs and shared them with his best friend and, admittedly, his family. They were peacefully laughing, when a giant explosion can be heard. "Seriously? We we're having fun and a monster comes?" Randy mumbled under his breath. "Go, Ninja. We will be here if you need help," Satoru assured. The teen nodded and ran to the restroom, leaving his teachers and biffer alone.

The boy used his mask, flashing lights and black ribbons covered him. After all the lightshow was done, he ran out of the stall and smoke-bombed his way in. "Smoke bomb! Hey, monster! Seriously!? On Family Day?! Who would even-" before he could finished his sentence, the stanked one attacked. The 'corrupted' one looked different, it was too robotic for a human, but too emotional for a robot. The Ninja remembered fighting a staked Viceroy creation, but this wasn't the same.

It's eyes stared into Randy, causing uneasiness. The teen didn't know how or why this one got stanked, but the fight sure wasn't easy. And yet, something about its... shape is recognizable. The creature had a bull's head and a human body, not a very good look on anyone, to be honest. The boy racked up his name, thinking about his classes. It was hard, since he zoned out most of his scholar studies. Then he realized.

"You're a, um, Minator? How do you say it's shoob name... Oh yeah, uh, Minotaur!" the Ninja shouted it's name. 'Names have power,' he recalled from a movie. Randy heard about this nasty piece of work, actually, he heard of the actual one not a half robotic one. Apparently, some lady from Ancient Greece decided it was a great idea to make a child with a bull. A honkin' bull. The boy remembered a few parts of the story, when explained in his history class (talking about Greece and its lush mythology), and remembered the hero Theseus.

But he wasn't fighting just any Minatour shaped robot. He was fighting a stanked one, and those are bad news.

Not looking at the Minotaur coming towards him full speed after a fun, and totally not destructive, rampage around the school, all Randy can remember was flying. It would've been great if it wasn't a dream, yet it wasn't, and the Ninja is plunging in super speed into his death. But he didn't feel the ground. Which is weird, maybe he died? "Got you, Ninja," Satoru's voice called from behind the mask.

The teen opened his eyes and stood up, watching the scenes. There were quick movements here and there, the robot getting slashed slowly and steadily, but the creature wouldn't go down that easily. Gradually, it rose up, dodging Nomi's (now in a mask) attacks and charging on the girl. She was growing restless and retreated, then united with the male ninjas.

"This creature... cannot be fought alone," the girl summarized. They planned an ambush and charged, grabbing their katanas and other weapons. Skilled in hand-in-hand combat, Satoru grabbed a katana. More skilled in ranged attacks, Nomi pulled out a bow and arrow (which isn't very ninja-y you might think but holy cheese she's good). Skilled in a more street fighting type of combat, Randy grabbed a stick (or a pole? The teen called it the "Ninja Smacking Stick!").

They fought and fought, slashed and slashed, stabbed and stabbed. Randy kept calling the bull names (his mouth can be as demonic as the Tengu, I swear to the Norisu Nine-). But nothing seems to work. Until, Satoru stabbed it's heart. "When a great warrior strikes you down, it would be best to stay down," Satoru quipped.

Maybe he already figured out where the stanking was or he just accidentally did it, green smoke left the robotic body and went underground, back to the Sorcerer. The three smoke-bombed away and appeared in the field with their normal clothes. Some witnesses said that they saw three warriors. Howard caught up with them and said, "Oh Cunningham! You should've seen the bull-thingy's face when you called him names!" Nomi thought it would be more suitable if he asked if Randy was okay, but then again, this is Howard we're talking about.

Howard needed to go, and Nomi hid her relief. She couldn't stand any more seconds with the short boy and would've already strangled him if he wasn't Randy's friend. The purple-haired teen decided to go to the photobooth and take some pictures together. Free of any worry, they made funny faces and shit-eating grins, ended up laughing together. It was getting dark, and the bazaar/carnival sort of thing is destroyed anyway, so they decided to go home. Watching the sunset, Randy appreciated the moment, though there was a feeling of guilt.

"Hey, guys? Thank you for bringing me here and sorry for not being able to kill the robot alone. I shoobed this day for you all didn't I?" the boy hung his head low. He didn't see the head shakes and the smiles. "When a Ninja needs help, he can always ask for help," Nomi said softly. "It was, with no doubt, one of the best things that happened in the 800 years. It was very... bruce," Satoru smiled. The teen couldn't help but to grin.

Randy loved today. He smelled the fragrance of the flowers blooming as they walked home, calmly talking to his two mentors. Mentors that became family, not since today, but the teen felt they were family from the first. What did he learn today, Randy didn't know. But one thing's for sure: he has a family. He has a great best friend. He has an amazing job. What else can he ask for?

#rc9gn #randy cunningham #randy cunningham: 9th grade ninja #rc9gn short story

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tbehartoo · 4 years

Text

Dungeons, Dragons, and Dating

A Present for @justknitstuff my giftee for the @lukanette-exchange. This sort of turned into a beast of a chapter and they haven’t even got to the game yet! I promise to get chapter two out as soon as I can.

Summary: Luka knows it’s hard to make new friends when all you do is work and study. He can’t believe it, but Rose and Juleka have finally convinced him to come to the university’s gaming club with them. There he meets some unique characters, and he’s not talking about the ones they create for their Dungeons & Dragons game. Hopefully among this room of strangers he can find some good friends for these hard times.

Author’s note: Set in a post pandemic world. After multiple plagues have swept the world, some daily things will have changed, but there are other things, such as the need for connections to each other, that haven’t.

Beta’ed by: @soloraven and @platypan Thank you both for your amazing help! They did their best, any mistakes are mine alone.

First Club Meeting

The first meeting of the University’s Gaming Club of the fall semester was full of nothing but the sound of rolling dice, the muttering of voices and the flipping of papers when Luka followed his sister and her girlfriend through the door. One of the lounge rooms off the cafeteria had several round tables with various people spread thinly around them. The room’s HEPA filters were humming quietly in the corners, a sound so common that it barely registered but comfortingly underlying the feel of the room.

A man hurried towards them while they stowed their masks in their packs. Luka thought the black eyebrows on the man’s head looked more like wings than brows. They were excellent at drawing attention from the guy’s balding head but couldn’t disguise how short the man actually was.

“Welcome, Rose! Welcome, Juleka!” he called as he passed out papers to the newcomers while they each took turns to put their hands under the automatic hand sanitizer dispenser. “It’s nice to see you back again this semester. Hope the summer break treated you well.”

“Oh, it was busy for sure,” Rose said as she smiled at the professor. “I did an internship at the library and Jules was able to pick up some work for local commercials.”

“Wonderful, girls! Wonderful!” He looked at Luka and picked up another bundle of papers. “And is this a friend of yours?”

“This is my brother Luka,” Juleka said as she took a packet from the man. He was practically vibrating with energy. “Rose has finally convinced him that he needs to come with us to the game club.”

“I’m Professor Damocles, the faculty advisor for the game club, and my pronouns are he/him,” he said nodding at Luka. “I ask you to please fill that packet out tonight. It goes over the club’s rules and by-laws as well as our expectations for following the university’s current pandemic procedure plans. The last page is for you to sign agreeing to abide by our rules and give us an email to contact you. You can use your school email or a personal one. Later, when we’ve got it processed, you’ll get your own invitation to our Discord channel and be able to look over what games the club has, as well as respond with your interest in each game. Go ahead and review the papers while we wait for the meeting to start.”

“It looks like you’ve already started,” Rose said and waved at a girl with black hair sporting bright blue streaks in her ponytail sitting a couple of tables over. Luka saw Juleka wave as well so she must be a friend of both of them.

“Oh, well not yet,” Professor Damocles said as he cleared his throat. “Our club president from last semester isn’t here to open the meeting and start the vote for club leadership. She said she had to stop off for something, but she should be here soon. In the meantime, I’ll have the vice-president-” he turned back to the room, “- ah, Adrien?” A blond young man looked up at the name. “Do you think you could get these three set up at a table while we wait for Marinette to get here?”

“Sure thing,” Adrien said as he came over, giving the three of them a small nod of acknowledgement. He scanned the tables before beaming at the girl Rose had waved to before. He nodded at the young man sitting a chair away from her. The guy wearing the baseball cap nodded and Adrien moved in their direction.

Those two don’t seem to be dating, Luka thought. Though they do seem pretty comfortable with each other, he noted they were both writing on something between them.

“Have any of you played Dungeons and Dragons?” Adrien asked as they wove through the tables.

“I have,” Rose answered, “But Jules and Luka refused to come to my game group with me.”

“It’s your time to be with your friends,” Juleka said with a chuckle. “We both have time away from each other,” she poked her girlfriend in her shoulder, “And you like to spend that time with them.”

“Her group always wants to meet while I’m at work,” Luka added on. He looked at Rose and smiled. “I’ve met them all as they seem to order from my pizza place only when I’m working and always request me as their driver.” He rolled his eyes, “I can’t even recall all the weird scenes I’ve walked into during their game nights, but I’ve never had a chance to play.”

Rose scoffed, but Juleka nodded to strengthen Luka’s claim.

“Well, last semester the club decided to try out twice monthly D&D games,” Adrien told them. “That way we can get a campaign going but still play our game closet every other week. Those who have played are helping the newbies roll up characters. Rose, if I put you with Kagami and Nino, do you think you can help Juleka and,” he paused before continuing both his eyebrows raised, “Luka?”

Luka nodded.

Adrien’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, uh, Luka, to roll up characters?”

“Sure thing, Adrien,” Rose said as she sat down at the table leaving two chairs between her and Kagami.

Juleka sat next to Rose while Luka claimed the seat next to Juleka.

“It’s good to see you again, Gami,” Juleka said, peering closely at the stacks of paper in the middle of the table.

“You, too Jules, Rose,” Kagami greeted the girls with a nod of her head. She raised a questioning brow at Luka.

“Oh, this is Luka, my brother,” Juleka said then tacked on, “-we all share an apartment off campus.”

"Ah, that's why you're not observing the mandatory one seat apart rule,” Kagami replied.

“Well it doesn’t apply to us as we share living quarters,” Juleka said with a small sigh.

“This is Nino,” Kagami said, indicating their other tablemate with a tilt of her head. “He’s Adrien’s brother from another mother and soon to be best man.”

Rose squealed and clapped. Juleka’s face broke out into a big smile.

“So who asked first, you or Adrien?” Rose demanded.

Nino barked with laughter.

“They had the audacity to ask at the same time,” he informed the beaming listeners. “So all bets have been cancelled.”

��Alix must be in a mood about that,” Juleka said with a grin.

Nino nodded. “She wouldn’t talk to either of them for a month. But now she’s working a couple of bets on swimming challenges between Kim and Ondine if you want in on that action.” He used his head to point out a girl at the next table. She was kind of short, wore clothes that Luka associated with skaters, and sported hair in a pink Mohawk with short cropped sides.

The whole group had a small laugh before Kagami’s face grew serious.

“Okay, I’m sure you’re familiar with the game, but here’s the short, short explanation just so we’re all on the same page. D&D is a group storytelling game. Every person has a character who has both strengths and weaknesses based on things like what fantasy race you’re from, like troll or elf, as well as what level you are in a certain job known as a class, like a fighter or sorcerer.

“You know, like my tenth level high elf pirate, Mistress Delores Myra Woodfield-Dee,” Rose said.

“We’re familiar with her,” Luka said nodding his head.

“Very familiar,” Juleka murmured.

“The Captain was so flattered when you made your character, well, her,” Luka grinned.

“Yeah, mom wouldn’t stop asking about her and suggesting things for Mistress Dee to do next,” Juleka informed Kagami.

“Mom didn’t understand that I had to listen to the directions from the DM,” Rose sighed. “She thought I could just take my pirate crew anywhere I wanted.”

“The DM is the one in charge, right?” Nino asked Rose.

“Yeah. The DM, a.k.a. the Dungeon Master, is the one that leads the story and settles disputes,” Rose said.

“It’s not an easy job, even though Adrien makes it look like it is,” Kagami said. “He’s been playing for years and DMing almost as long. He’s learned a few tricks to make things flow easily and he’s so nice that he rarely has people rules lawyering at him.”

“Rules lawyering?” Luka asked as he looked at Kagami then turned to his housemate, “I haven’t heard Rose say that before.”

“That’s because Skylar, my DM, doesn’t let James play anymore,” Rose grumbled. “He would argue over every little thing and try to pull out the rule book after nearly every play. It got so bad that Claire and Gia refused to play any more and the others in our group started to dread going.” She huffed and put a hand on Luka’s forearm. “If you really have a question about what happened or why something turned out the way it did, then, yeah you should ask the DM for clarification, but in a nice way.” Luka nodded at her as she continued, “Don’t be an ass about it.”

“I usually try not to be one in my day-to-day life. Why would I change that because of a game?” Luka asked.

Kagami shuddered, “Because when people really get into character and the game gets intense then you can have the sweetest, kindest person you know,” she looked directly at Rose, “Turn into a blood lusting, amoral, beast that makes you worried to try the cookies she brought.”

Rose’s jaw dropped. “Those cookies were from T&S! How could you question their fitness for consumption?”

“Because you set fire to the orphanage with the orphans sleeping inside it, for one,” Kagami said “And then you rolled a boulder through the school house while classes were in session!”

“Surti Snan was a chaotic evil Kobold!” Rose said defensively. “You cannot hold him to human standards of behavior.”

“I most certainly can and will,” Kagami replied with a smirk on her face.

“Besides,” Rose almost pouted, “My plan to lure out the mindflayer worked.”

“Only after you decimated three-quarters of the town we were sent to save!” Kagami pointed out.

The two stared at each other for a moment and Luka worried that they might need to figure out a way to deescalate the situation when the two girls broke out into laughter.

“We were fortunate that Marc was the DM that night as they were the one to get everyone to cool down after the orphanage incident,” Rose said with a grin. “I didn’t end up banned from the table or the game.”

“And that is why you need a good DM,” Kagami said. “They have to keep everyone working together and keep emotions from overpowering the game. They’re also responsible for adding in all the little things like descriptions of people and places and being all the NPCs.”

“Non-player characters,” Rose said as she saw the furrowed brows of Luka, Nino, and Juleka, “are like the shopkeepers or the townsfolk that you meet along the way, but aren’t permanent members of the party like our characters will be.”

“Oooh, Adrien told me that Damocles is going to pop in as some of the NPCs for our game this semester,” Kagami told the table.

Rose squealed, happiness showing clearly on her face, “He’s going to be the funnest little blacksmith!”

“I don’t think funnest is a word Rose,” Juleka said with a smile.

“I can totally see him as a blacksmith, too,” Kagami said. “He’s got all the in-depth history of historical weapons. I bet armor shopping with him would end up being a small comparative history lesson on why a Japanese Do would be better than a French cuirass for a specific race or class.”

“No one told me there’d be actual lessons involved with this,” Nino said with a scoff. The effect was ruined by the huge grin he was throwing in Kagami’s direction.

“Well you’d better get practicing your math facts before we start,” Kagami said as she pulled the visor down on his cap. “There’s a lot of adding and subtracting once the dice start rolling.”

“What are we using the dice for?” Juleka asked.

“Pretty much everything,” Rose said as she leaned into Juleka’s side. “They add chaos and luck into the game so it’s not just a match where you look to see who has the highest AC-” noting the confused looks of the uninitiated she added, “armor class.” Juleka still looked confused. “Dice are used for movement during confrontations to see if your actions hit and how much damage is done. But another important thing the DM uses the dice for is when we roll initiative before there’s a fight to figure out what order people go in, including the bad guys.”

“Does that even matter?” Luka asked skeptically.

“Yes, yes it matters a lot,” Kagami answered quickly. “If you have a party of five brawlers going up against two archers, and the archers go first, they can have the brawlers down on the ground before they ever get close enough to lay a finger on them.”

“But if the brawlers go first, they can get to the archers and overpower them while their bows become useless because the archers don’t have the distance any more,” Rose tacked on.

“And it can get real tricky and dicey, no pun intended, when they’re mixed up,” Kagami said.

“So is it better to be an archer or a brawler?” Nino asked.

“Yes,” Rose answered with a grin and Nino just groaned.

“Well, every character has strengths and weaknesses,” Kagami replied slowly. “It keeps the game more balanced and keeps even the gods from being too OP. So the answer to your question really is that it just depends. That’s why we’re hoping that not everyone will chose to be an Orc Barbarian or the only thing we’ll be able to do is be murder hobos.”

“Murder hobos?” Juleka asked with a wince.

“That’s when the group’s answer to every problem is to stab, club, or smite it and hope that makes it go away,” Kagami answered.

“It gets kind of boring when fights are all you do,” Rose said.

“But Rose,” Juleka said with a frown on her face, “every character you’ve ever talked about was a fighter of some kind. Your pirate, your kobold, the chef from the insane asylum,” she was ticking them off on her fingers, “there are a lot of others that you’ve made, and they’re all fighters.”

Rose blushed a little before answering. “Well, yes, I do like to play fighters more than say clerics or warlocks, but that’s because I use my characters to get out all the aggression I can’t use in real life. It’s just not appropriate to hit the library patron over the head with the book he keeps requesting, but then says it’s the wrong book every week.”

Everyone at the table chuckled.

“So if we’re not just getting into fights, what else is there to do?” Luka asked.

“There can be riddles, murder mysteries, royal court intrigue, puzzles, and, well, it is called Dungeons and Dragons,” Kagami said while shrugging, “so besides slaying dragons or raiding their hoards, there are also dungeons or other structures to explore. Some, well okay, all of them have traps of some kind or they might also have monsters in them.”

“One time Marc did a dungeon crawl where you had to come up with a rhyming couplet to get out of the rooms using the name of the treasure found in it,” Rose said thoughtfully. “We spent so much time trying to figure out a rhyme for the handy haversack,” she murmured.

“What did you rhyme it with?” Luka wanted to know. He was already creating a list in his head.

“We, ah, put it in the middle of the line and just rhymed floor and door,” she admitted. “Then we did that with the rest of the rooms and pretty much made Marc cry that night.”

Kagami was nodding along with Rose’s story. She looked at the three sitting at the table. “One thing you should always keep in mind,” she said to them, “is that the party always ruins the DM’s plans. The DMs know this and they try to be ready for it, but sometimes they just have to call a break or end a session because the group has gone off on a tangent even they didn’t predict.” She smiled at them. “It’s kind of fun, but it’s not something you want to make a habit of or the DMs don’t want to play.”

“What I’m hearing,” Luka said to Kagami, “is that we all just need to play nice with each other and the game will be fun.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” Kagami smiled back at him.

“So how do we get started making our character?” Juleka asked.

Kagami pointed to the piles of paper in the middle of the table. “If you haven’t played before, there’s a few races and classes to choose from on the papers. The more experienced players can bring in other races or classes if the DMs approve. Our DMs are Adrien,” she pointed at the young man they’d met answering a question for a girl in glasses with hair that started a rich brown but changed gradually into a deep red color, “and Marc” she pointed to another person sitting at the adjoining table with short black hair and some killer eye liner. Marc was helping someone with long, bright red hair pulled back into a bun that helped their mask stay in place. She gestured back to their table. “The pink papers have races on them and the details that you should know for that race. The green papers have classes on them. So you can either choose two papers at random or you can look through them to see what sounds interesting. To make things easy on all of us, we’re all starting at level one.”

“This all sounds pretty easy,” Luka said.

Kagami’s face lost all expression.

“That’s what I said to Adrien when he first introduced me to the game,” she shook her head. “You might want to get out now-- while you can.”

Rose reached a closed hand over to gently nudge Kagami’s arm. “You don’t mean that,” she said.

One side of Kagami’s mouth quirked up. “No, I don’t. It’s a wonderful game, but it can be kind of overwhelming, especially when you’re new at it.” She slid the stacks of paper towards the little group along with the bottle of hand sanitizer. “As Adrien’s one of the DMs, he asked Nino to play a paladin for story reasons so he just had to choose a race. These are free for you to look at.”

Rose took the sanitizer and squeezed some into her palm before passing it down the line. Luka knew that her time in the library made her very careful to clean her hands before handling something others might also have to touch. She took the pink stack while Juleka looked at the green. Luka said he was going to do the random thing so he started filling out the club rule packet.

A few moments later, a young woman burst through the door carrying a large box of what turned out to be individually wrapped treats from T&S. Tom and Sabine, the proprietors of the bakery, always greeted everyone with warm smiles and tasty samples. T&S was a favorite with students for having delicious pastries, as well as simple sandwiches on freshly baked bread, at prices even those struggling with their finances could afford.

Luka heard the girl apologizing to Damocles for being late, but she’d had to wait for her order to get finished- at this point she nearly dropped the box as she tripped over something by her rushing feet, but Adrien was there to catch both the box and the girl. He didn’t even hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders as he moved them over to a table at the front of the room.

They can’t be dating, Luka thought to himself. Adrien and Kagami just got engaged. And neither of the girls asked Kagami about how her or Adrien’s girlfriend was taking the news so they probably aren’t in a poly relationship together. They certainly don’t look like siblings, but I know well enough that siblings don’t have to be little carbon copies of each other. Maybe they’re roommates? Quick, be cool Luka, they’re coming this way.

Adrien walked the girl over to their table where she sank into the chair next to Nino and Luka felt his heart drop to the floor.

She must be dating Nino, who is Adrien’s best friend, so they’ve probably been around each other a lot. Which is why she’s sitting next to Nino and why Adrien felt comfortable enough with catching her, Luka reasoned.

Adrien put one hand on Nino’s shoulder as he leaned across the chair between him and Kagami to give his fiancee a quick kiss. He straightened up and gave Nino’s shoulder a squeeze before removing his hand.

“How are you so late?” Nino asked the girl with a teasing tone. “You left the house with an hour and a half’s head start.”

The girl blushed before she started talking. “When I got to the bakery, Felix was there,” she began. Luka noticed that Nino, Adrien, and even Kagami suddenly tensed up and Nino’s lips formed into a line. “He thought that just because I couldn’t be the club president this semester that I’d stop coming, even though I told him I still had to come tonight to open the meeting and to take nominations for the new president. He-”

“He just went all Felix on you didn’t he?” Nino said followed by a short huff.

She nodded.

“I know he’s my cousin,” Adrien said to her, “but sometimes I really wish he wasn’t related and could have gone to a different school instead of our family’s Alma Mater.” He reached around Nino and gave her a couple of pats on her shoulder before leaning back toward Kagami and grasping her hand. “Then you’d never have met him and all our lives would have been easier.”

This Felix guy must be, what, pestering her? They don’t seem to be worried about her safety, so he’s probably not stalking her. I guess everyone has that one friend you just have to limit time with, Luka thought.

She gave Adrien a strained smile.

“But then I never would have met you or Kagami,” she said. “You would have just been that one weird guy that Nino was in a bromance with in his Roman history class. The one who has an unnatural affinity for Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood,” she added scrunching her nose up.

Adrien’s laugh was loud and free. Kagami, Nino, and the girl all relaxed at the sound and smiled at one another.

“Okay, you got me there,” Adrien said. “But don’t knock the bromance.” He batted his eyes at Nino. “The feelings of the bros are true, pure, and noble.”

At that, Nino pretended to swoon as he murmured, “Bro, don’t do this to me in public, bro.” He looked up at Adrien, his eyes open wide and a pout on his lips. “You know I can’t handle it when you declare your love for me.”

Both of the men tried to hold onto their awkward posing, but Kagami poked Adrien’s side and the girl leaned into Nino. They started sniggering immediately.

“If you’re really that taken with him,” Kagami said to Adrien with a grin, “I could always give him the engagement ring.”

“You’d do that for me? For us?” Adrien cried melodramatically.

Luka could see why Adrien would make a good DM if he was always this theatrical. Kagami and Nino also seemed able to drop into a performance easily. Even as a stranger, Luka could tell this was all in good fun and that Adrien seemed quite devoted to the girl whose hand he’d yet to let go of.

“Don’t worry Kagami,” Nino said to her solemnly. “I would never want to be the one to ruin you and Adrien’s happiness.”

Kagami pinned the boy with her stare. “You are the only one who ever could come between us, Nino,” Her tone icy, almost menacing. “ You know the terms: Sabers at dawn.”

Nino sat back quickly holding up his hands in surrender, clearly dropping out of the scene they’d been playing.

“Unh-uh! No way!” He made an ‘x’ with his arms. “I have seen you with your saber and I want no part of that,” he declared.

Kagami and Adrien both smiled fondly at Nino as they chuckled.

“A wise decision,” Adrien remarked. “Oh excuse me, it looks like Alya has another question.”

He pecked Kagami’s cheek before hurrying back over to glasses girl.

When Luka looked back at the table, after watching Adrien go over to the girl who must be Alya, it was to see Nino with his arm around his seatmate’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Marinette?” he’d asked quietly. “I know how Felix can get when he’s...disappointed.”

Luka was pretty sure that the only reason he heard the question was because he was seated on the girl’s other side.

Marinette took a deep breath in and let it out before nodding her head.

“I’m good Nin,” she’d replied.

The look on Nino’s face seemed to sport a trace of disbelief, but it was gone so quickly that Luka wasn’t sure that’s what he’d seen. Before he could think about it more, Professor Damocles stood at the front of the room to call for attention.

After introducing himself to the group and welcoming everyone to the club, he turned the meeting over to Marinette as club president. She called for nominations for a new president and the club officially got under way.

Soon enough Adrien, as the new club president, addressed the gathering.

“Well, as your new president, I’d like to welcome everyone here. I hope that we can all have a great time getting to know one another and having some fun playing games.” He grinned as his eyes scanned the crowd. Luka was sure he wasn’t the only one to notice the wink he threw at Kagami.

“Our good friends over at the Crazy Squirrel,” he gestured to a table covered in dice, velvet bags, trays, books, and brightly covered boxes with two smiling people seated behind it, “have brought a small selection of what they have on offer at their game store. You can look over the merch at any time tonight and be assured, they take all forms of legal tender. If you don’t find what you need, they’re willing to give student discounts all next week as long as you show a valid student I.D. Who knew those cards were good for anything, right? If you aren’t going to use an app for your dice rolls, you will need to make sure you also purchase a tray.” The smile dropped from his face. “We can’t have stray dice roaming the tables.” At this statement, there were various murmurs of assent.

“Marc and I will be DMing this semester,” he pointed to the student Kagami had indicated earlier, “so if you have any questions please feel free to ask us, but we’ve made sure there are two or three people at each table that can help you make a character if you’ve not done that before.” He smiled at the group. “We have a lot of plans for our game but tonight is going to be dedicated to creating your character and getting familiar with the mechanics of how things work. There’ll be several links to videos up on the server so that you can watch the pros in action, but please don’t expect that level of ability of your DMs.”

“You’re no Matt Mercer, but you’ll do,” a young man with brown skin, dark glasses, and blond dreadlocks pulled into a top knot said to the president who returned his smile.

The crowd broke into snickering.

“We know we’re not Max,” Marc replied from his table, “but then again you’re no Taliesin Jaffe or Travis Willingham either,” an ‘oooooooooooo’ ran through the room, “but you don’t see Adrien and I complaining.” Marc grinned at Max.

That got another round of chuckles from the group.

Adrien hastily added, “We’ll all just have to do our best.”

Professor Damocles stood up and Adrien ceded the floor to him.

“Alright everyone, back to your characters,” the professor said with enthusiasm. “Make them unique and special. Try new classes. Find out where your character came from, even if it’s a roll of the dice by the fates, and then prepare them to go out adventuring!” He practically vibrated with excitement.

“I am way too sober for this,” Alix mumbled into her travel mug before taking a long drink.

“One more thing,” Damocles said after Marc whispered something into his ear. “This is meant to be a friendly game, but permanent character death can happen.”

“You don’t say,” a female voice carried through the quiet room.

“Let’s have a moment of silence for Kagami’s weak ass tabaxi bard,” the pink hair girl called to the room. Everyone chuckled, but a few bowed their heads in Kagami’s direction. While a voice chided with a hissed, “Alix!”

Professor Damocles continued as if nothing had been said, “So, you might want to make a backup-” he looked directly at the source of the voice, “-or two-- Kagami.” He beamed at the room. “Let’s get busy!”

Kagami and Nino immediately put their heads back down to the paper they’d been working on. Kagami pointed to something and Nino’s phone sounded out the rolling of dice. Rose and Juleka each chose a paper from their stacks and then switched colors. Luka looked at Marinette for a moment. She seemed to notice his stare and turned to him.

The first thing he noticed was how very blue her eyes seemed. They were eyes he felt he could gladly get lost in. The second thing he noticed was how expressive her face really seemed to be. The expression right now was curiosity bordering on concern.

“Um,” he had to clear his throat before he could continue. “Doyou- haveyou-” he took a short breath to slow his words down, “Have you already made a character before?” he asked hesitantly.

“Oh yeah,” she answered. “I showed Adrien my character last week when he was over for Brotherhood night.”

“Oh, well, could you-” he tried not to look as pathetic as he felt, “could you help me?” He had to look away as soon as he’d asked.

He heard her giggle before she shifted over to be only a chair away from him, carefully observing the university seating policy, while still showing her willingness to help him out.

“I’d be glad to help you with your character,” she said and grinned.

Luka tried to get his face to move from its stunned expression, but all he felt was a bit of heat forming in his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he croaked out.

Juleka was quick to nudge him with her elbow while muttering, “Stop acting like a weirdo, ya weirdo.”

Rose giggled at his behavior, but issued a soft, “Jules, leave him be,” in his defense.

“I’m Marinette,” the girl in question said as she smiled at him again. “Nino and I rent a house close to campus-”

“Because you just have to have your craft room,” he mumbled without looking up from his phone.

Okay, they’ve got to be dating if they aren’t already married, Luka told himself. They’re living together and they’re close friends with Kagami and Adrien who just got engaged. Statistics show that you tend to mirror the actions of your peer group so why wouldn’t they be married? It’s so weird to think of people my age as being married. Why does it even matter? You’re here to make new friends and get away from work and school. This isn’t a dating service, Luka. And now you missed what she was saying.

“-but we’ve lived in each other’s house since forever. Nino’s dad and my dad have been friends since kindergarten,” she threw a smile in his direction. “I grew up calling Nino’s parents Uncle Sami and Auntie Halima and wondering why he had aunts and uncles I never saw at our family reunions, but never questioning that we were related,” she laughed a little at herself. “What about you?”

“Well, um, Juleka and I grew up on a houseboat with our mom. And Rose started coming over a lot when she and Jules were what, twelve? thirteen?” He looked over at his sister who nodded and then smiled at Rose. “She kind of joined the crew when her dad proved to be less than ideal as a parent.” He scowled remembering the night that a tear soaked Rose showed up on the boat and he had to hold Juleka back from killing a man while the Captain held the sobbing girl that was to become a second daughter to her. “It was obviously his loss, but certainly our gain. Mom keeps asking Jules when she’s going to make Rose official,” he stopped when he heard Juleka groan.

“She preaches free love and that marriage is just a piece of paper then goes and asks about ‘the wedding’ and ‘how soon am I gonna to get some grandbabies’,” Juleka grumbled.

“The Captain is a woman of many moods and an example of the most conservative rebel you’ll ever meet,” Luka confirmed to the half of the table that was looking at him with stunned expressions.

“Well she certainly sounds like an interesting character,” Marinette said.

At that, the rest of the table broke up into laughter.

“What did I say that was so funny?” she asked the group.

“Rose is way ahead of you on that one, Nettie,” Nino replied.

She looked at Rose. “Is she--Mistress Dee?” she asked with delight.

Rose just nodded.

“Oh. well then, I stand by what I said- Quite the character.”

Luka merely grinned at this assessment of his mother while the others returned to their own character creation.

“So,” Marinette said as the table got back to work, “Are you ready to make your fighter?”

“Does it have to be a fighter?” he whined, then the dumbest line that he’s ever heard slips off his tongue as he leaned directly into their shared space, “I’m more a lover than a fighter.” He grinned at her as he winked, then proceeded to blow her a kiss.

She stared at him dumbstruck as he saw Juleka facepalm out of the corner of his eye. Marinette hastily moved back a chair. She seemed to be almost terrified of him and he felt his gut clench in worry that he’d somehow offended or intimidated her.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized as he sat back with his hands up trying to make himself seem less of a threat.

“You’re doing your flirty delivery persona,” Rose said through clenched teeth, not even looking over at him. “It might get you more tips at work, but Marinette has a-” she paused and Luka was worried to find out what the next words out of Rose’s mouth would be, “-protective boyfriend so you’d best stop,” her voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper.

Luka looked anxiously over to Nino whose lips had flattened out from what had seemed like a permanent grin, as he put an arm around Marinette. He gave a short nod in Luka’s direction to confirm Rose’s statement.

“He’s not here Nette,” Nino murmured as he patted her shoulder. “He can’t give you crap over Luka’s fake flirt.”

“But he’ll know, Nin,” the shaken girl whispered. “He always knows.”

Nino just shook his head and sighed as he tried to get Marinette to breathe slowly and tell him everything she was going to do to the plain wooden box she’d picked up at the craft store.

Great, I’ve already insulted Marinette and made Nino distrust me. A wonderful way to go about making new friends, Luka, he mentally chided himself. You went overboard on the flirting. Just because they play along with Adrien and Kagami doesn’t mean they’d let me play the same way. How many times have I said that to the kids?

Luka’s head dropped to his chest in defeat. “Rose is right and, again, I am-- so sorry. I can see that I’ve caused you a lot of distress and that was never my intention. Please believe me when I say, it will never happen again.” He hadn’t even looked over at Rose as his whole focus was on Marinette. “I understand if you don’t want to help me with this after... that, but I do want you to know that I would never want you to feel unsafe around me.”

Marinette was still taking deep breaths and holding them before letting them out slowly. A nervous giggle escaped her.

She grinned timidly at Luka. “It’s not your fault,” her voice had a faint tremor. “You don’t know Felix or that we’re dating,” she said as her voice started to lose it’s warble. She looked at Nino for help.

“Felix... is mostly all bark and no bite,” Nino tells him sincerely. “The only problem is that no one has fitted him with a shock collar to keep him from barking all day and all night.”

“Nino, he’s not that bad,” Marinette protested.

Nino just gave her a flat look. “Do you not live in the same house I do?” he asked incredulously. “I’ve known him to call at 3 am to ask where you are and who you’re with,” his eyes dared her to dispute the fact. “And then there’s the morning and evening check-ins.”

“It’s nice to get texts first thing in the morning,” Marinette argued.

“No doubt about that, but he blows your phone up until you respond, and while I know you can sleep through a tsunami I cannot tell you how much I hate your phone’s notification sound.”

Rose laughed at that. “Oh man I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to tell these two off for leaving their phones on the charger and then not answering them when they’re getting notifications.”

Both Luka and Juleka looked sheepish.

Marinette looked back and forth between Luka, Juleka, and Rose and grinned.

“I see Rose is the one who rules the roost,” she teased.

Luka nodded and Juleka mirrored the action.

“Do not get Rose mad,” Luka whispered to the whole table. “You wouldn’t like it when Rose’s mad.”

Everyone including Kagami and Nino laughed and the tension round the table seemed to ease. Luka couldn’t help but notice the look that passed between Marinette and Nino.

“Sounds familiar,” Nino said as he grinned at Marinette and waggled his eyebrows.

“Shut it,” Marinette said, her confidence returning to her a little, as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Make me,” he taunted back.

“Careful, Lahiffe, I know where you sleep and also where you keep your gear.”

At Nino’s gasp and look of mock horror, Luka asked, “Your gear?”

“Yeah, I’m an EMT and also in the nursing program. I have a lot of emergency supplies,” he looked back at Marinette, “Which you promised to never touch again unless I ask you to.”

“You have a tape emergency one time-” she grumbled. “Besides you just asked me to shut you up. Sounds like asking to get in your kit to me.” She singsonged at him. “I could probably tape you to the bed without you knowing, you sleep so deeply once you get off shift.”

“How many times must I say it?” Nino said as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Don’t use expensive, high-quality medical tape for something that duct tape can do better.”

Marinette smiled as she bumped into his side. “I know where we keep the duct tape, too.”

The entire table had a laugh at their antics before getting back to their characters.

They really are a cute couple, Luka thought as he watched them. Nino seems like he’d be a better match than this Felix. At least, I don’t think Nino would be setting off a panic attack if some goon flirted badly with her. Luka couldn’t help the frown that crossed his face as he tried to puzzle out the two.

“And now we see who runs the place at your house,” Rose said with a giggle before instructing Juleka to grab one of the white character sheets so they could start rolling up her tiefling fighter.

After a moment of awkward silence between the two, Marinette began with, “So?”

“So?” Luka repeated, not understanding what she was asking.

“Are you ready to make your fighter?” She shifted to be a chair closer again.

This time, Luka thought of the space between them as a vast wall to keep her safe from his own apparent foolishness.

“Oh, um, Kagami said I could just pick one from each pile to make my character,” he said mostly to the table in front of him. He looked up and saw the scowl that Marinette shot the mentioned girl. “Isn’t that okay?”

Marinette’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s true that that is one way to create a character, but it makes you less invested in your player and by association into the game.” She huffed in Kagami’s direction, “Just because she’s gone through so many characters that she no longer cares-”

A muffled protest “Hey, you try to care about your fiftieth character your boyfriend has killed off this campaign alone,” came from across the table. “I can’t find anything he won’t take out. And I don’t mean on a date!”

“- that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t at least look and see what’s out there. This way, even if you don’t choose that race or class you’ll still have some idea of what’ll probably show up in our game,” Marinette supplied. “Though personally, when I have time, I do like to get deeply into creating my characters, especially their backstories.”

Nino snorted. “Please tell them about the time you created a complete novella of your dwarven mage only to have him k.o.’ed by the first henchman your party crossed,” he laughed again, “and you hadn’t even got to tell them your name yet!”

“They buried her with a headstone reading ’To the unknown dwarf. Gone and now forgotten.’,” Kagami added with a grin.

Marinette shook her head. “All that dwarven lore and history gone before it could be shared.” She looked at Luka, “I spent three nights typing up Thomyll Tharrgrisson’s clan affiliation, genealogy, home life, general education, apprenticeship, and mage studies.” She smiled and sighed as she seemed to drift off into another world. “If I’d had another night, I would have gone into his courtship, marriage, and widowhood as well as his daughter’s apprenticeship as a baker and his sons’ work in the war forges of their people. Thomyll and his family always felt most at home around a fire.”

Kagami snickered and the sound brought Marinette back to the table. “That’s what makes his death so epically ironic,” the laughing girl told Luka. “It was a freaking first level fireball that took him out.”

Nino joined in her laughter, but Marinette just rolled her eyes and turned her back to them.

“I was down to a single hit point,” she grumbled. “We’ll just ignore them,” she instructed Luka. “Nino is barely starting and Kagami hasn’t yet learned the importance of,” she changed her voice to be pitched lower and more nasally as she said, “Backstory! Backstory! Backstory!”

“Too bad you’re stuck with me and not Perry the platypus then,” Luka said with a small grin as he’d recognized the voice she’d been trying to imitate. Her thumbs up made him hope that maybe he hadn’t ruined everything.

“And when do you ever have time to write something that epic?” Juleka teased.

“Probably not much this semester,” Marinette answered her with a wry grin. “There’s already a student showcase to be prepping for this year. Fortunately they’ve all been told they can only use the black blocks we have as their sets and most of the student directors are doing one act plays that are set in modern times so their casts are using their own clothes.”

“Marinette’s a drama major and is into major drama,” Nino confided to Luka with a grin.

“Ugh, Nin that line is getting so old,” she said with a small eye roll. Nino didn’t look put out in the least. She thought for a moment. “I think they’re not going to be allowed to request any backdrops for the showcase either, so I just have to get all their props. Which is good since we only have one stagecraft class and they’ll be responsible for the main play this semester.”

“Oh is it that Voltaire play you were so excited about doing costumes for?” Rose asked.

Marinette nodded, “That’s the one.”

Rose’s eyes widened considerably. “Are you going to have to make dresses and suits for the whole cast?”

Marinette burst out laughing. “No, I won’t be making everything from scratch. Thankfully our costume storage has a lot of pieces that can be altered to fit our needs as well as our actors. It’ll still keep me plenty busy.”

“Well we know you’re really good at altering a situation for the best,” Nino said out the corner of his mouth, not really looking up from something Kagami wanted him to re-do.

Marinette reddened around the ears, but looked at Juleka. “Are you going to try out for this one?”

Juleka shook her head. “Madame Haprèle made me the lead make up designer.” She smiled a huge smile. “I get to design or approve designs of all the cast’s make-up and then I’m responsible for making sure everyone in the costume/make-up class knows how to read their sheet and apply the design to their actors.”

Marinette’s smile broke across her face and Luka could clearly read just how happy she was for his sister.

“That’s excellent, Jules!” She seemed to dance in her seat. “That’ll look really good on your résumé and it’ll be some sweet, sweet make-up.”

Juleka hid her face in Rose’s shoulder. It was a familiar action Luka knew she did when she was a little overwhelmed by any intense emotion.

“Thank’s Nette,” she said muffled by Rose's sweater.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Marinette said quietly as she tried to dial down her excitement. “But you should know I only spoke the truth.”

“She’s right and she should say it,” Luka said as he nudged Juleka’s shoulder with his.

“Don’t you meme me boy,” Juleka said as she pushed back at him. “You may be older, but I’m trending.”

Luka laughed a little too loud at this. “You’ve got me there,” he conceded. He looked back over to Marinette. “Anything else that you’re doing this semester that’ll stand in the way of developing your character’s backstory?”

She thought for a moment. “I know that they were thinking about adding a comedy at the end of the semester to try and help the rest of the student body keep their spirit’s up before the winter break, but I haven’t heard back about it.”

“Didn’t you tell me the dance program was doing something from the Nutcracker?” Kagami asked. “You wanted to borrow my saber for it.”

Marinette facepalmed. “How could I forget that I’ll be trying to get about twenty bon-bon costumes made or borrowed?”

“What? Why?” Luka asked.

“She’s the headmistress of the costume department,” Nino told him. “Only the dean has higher authority about what goes on stage. So when the dance department tries to do some kind of cross study with local dance studios to keep the littles doing ballet--” he pulled a face at Marinette and she shakes her head at him, “--to keep them dancing until they’re in college, it’s Marinette’s responsibility to make sure everyone from Sugarland is dressed as cupcakes or whatever.”

“I keep telling you there aren’t any cupcakes in the Land of Sweets,” Marinette grumbles at him.

“Then how can it truly be magical?” Nino demanded. “You know your parents would never approve of a magical land of every good dessert if it didn’t include cupcakes and pain au chocolat.”

“Why not?” Luka asked.

“You know T&S?” Marinette asked in reply. At his nod, she went on, “Well Tom and Sabine are my parents.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Luka said as he smiled at Nino, “You’re right about that. No magical world would be complete without T&S pain au chocolat.”

“I knew you were a man of good taste,” Nino said. Behind Marinette’s back, Luka saw Nino point at him and then her and flutter his eyelashes.

Luka’s face began heating up. Okay Nino was turning out to have a good sense of humor, even if it was at Luka’s expense.

“Any way,” Marinette said thoughtfully, “I think that’s everything big going on stage this semester.” She thought some more then mumbled more to herself than to anyone in particular, “Of course we still have to do preproduction for the spring musical…”

Luka was just staring at her while Juleka and Rose were nodding along. “You have all that on top of classes?” he asked with a low whistle. “And I thought doing a double major and part-time work kept me too busy.”

“Oh Nettie never stops moving,” Nino said. “In her spare time,” he said the phrase dripping with sarcasm, “she’ll work on crafting things like some of the dice boxes over there,” he pointed at the table from the Crazy Squirrel.

“Nin, I don’t make the boxes! I just, like, add to them,” Marinette protested.

“And Michelangelo just added to the Sistine chapel’s ceiling,” Nino retorted. “As well as fighting the Foot Clan’s ninjas at night.”

Luka laughed, but Marinette glared at her housemate.

“Wow,” Luka said as he squinted over at the table with the boxes as Marinette seemed to shrink in on herself. “That’s seriously impressive.”

“It’s not that big-” she began only to be interrupted by Nino again.

“It is,” Nino said looking directly into her eyes.

“Nino, stop,” Marinette whined. “Go back to plotting with your co-conspirator. Help me out here, Gami.”

“Sure,” she said. Kagami looked Luka directly in the eyes and said with the most deadpan expression he’d ever seen, “Marinette is an angel come down from heaven. She does what no mere mortal can and her sweetness and kindness knows no bounds. She has been cursed to suffer us unworthy mortals as she is forced to live amongst the most idiotic and stubborn of humans.”

“Hey, no need to tear me down as you build Marinette up,” Nino offered in mock protest.

Kagami flashed him a smirk, “I didn’t mention you by name but if you feel the description fits...”

Nino and Kagami chuckled and the others grinned at their shenanigans.

“Hey Luka I just had a thought,” Marinette said as she looked determinedly away from Nino and Kagami. “Rose and Juleka need time to roll up their characters and you’ll probably want a set of dice even if you do eventually just use an app. Why don’t we go over to the vendor table and let these people work? You can even see my embellishments, up close.”

“You’re just going to avoid us now?” Nino asked with a grin.

“Yes,” Marinette said as she got up.

Luka was quick to follow her lead. They didn’t say anything until Luka was looking at the display of the different sets of dice and dice trays.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked her quietly. “You seem a little-- distressed.”

Marinette bit one corner of her bottom lip, but shook her head.

“It’s an old argument,” she said. “Nino thinks I should speak up more about my job titles and accomplishments, but that seems so much like bragging and I hate people that do that. Like, my accomplishments should speak for themselves, you know?”

Luka hummed for a moment before replying, “I see where you’re coming from, but the problem is that you can’t let your accomplishments speak for themselves if you don’t let people know you’ve accomplished them.”

“And am I supposed to go around telling people that I’ve eaten all of my sandwich as well as my chips today?” she asked without any heat.

“Do you have problems actually eating your lunch?” he asked with a grin.

She looked away, but quickly looked back. “Maaaaaaayyyyyybe,” she slowly admitted.

He laughed at her sheepish expression, “Well then maybe you do need to tell people, but only if they ask. Or if you’ve done something hard that you are proud of and a good friend would be happy for you, uh, for.” He smiled at her. “If Nino hadn’t jumped in, would you have told me about being in charge of so much?”

“I might’ve,” she replied truthfully. “If you’d asked about it. But why go over all of that if it isn’t your jam? If you’re not into theater then giving you my titles will only be confusing and lead to misunderstandings,” she did an involuntary shudder at some memory. “But if you are into theater than me saying that I work in props and costumes lets you either ask more or tells you that we have some common interests we can discuss later. Right?”

He nodded as he picked up a set of teal dice that were transparent like glass and started looking at the trays. Most were plain boxes, some also had velvet lining.

“These aren’t the fanciest boxes to choose from,” Marinette said as she looked over the selection with him. She looked at the dice he’d chosen. “With the white numbering you’re probably going to want a mid to dark color inside to help make reading them easier, but something like black might make it harder to find your dice in the tray.”

“Well they only seem to have the plain wood or the black velvet,” Luka murmured.

“I bet Marinette could help fix up a tray for you that would be perfect,” the woman behind the table said. “She’s done almost all of these, but I know she has an Etsy where she sells the real fancy ones that most of our clients just can’t afford.”

“Thanks Ms. Watson,” Marinette said with a grin. “You know I offer you a first chance at the more ornate ones.”

“Don’t you be tempting me with any more of your magic boxes,” the woman said with a smile. “I’ve already bought more than my husband realizes. I’m just fortunate that he keeps putting off making the display for them or he’d realize how much the pile’s grown,” she mock whispered.

The man helping Max with his purchases couldn’t help but turning his head and saying, “Oh I know that it’s grown, but it’s so big she doesn’t realize how many I’ve snuck onto the pile.”

“And this is why it’s dangerous for two pack rats to own a game shop,” she said to Luka. “You know Marinette, if he buys one of the plain boxes you can probably fix it up for him in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Marinette paused for a moment then grinned at Luka.

“I think I have some gray velvet at home that would be perfect for your needs,” she closed her eyes and seemed to be scanning something with her forefinger. She brightened up before saying, “I even know where it is. If you buy one of the plain boxes, I can fix it up before our next meeting.”

“But you just said how busy you were going to be?” Luka objected.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Those things all have their timelines and we’re at the beginning of the semester.” He didn’t look as if he believed her so she continued on, “You know what classes are like the first week. They'll only be going over the syllabus and discussing which books you must have, which books are extra reading suggestions, and which ones are only required because they were written by a member of the faculty but you can totally not go to this specific web address to get the text in question. Hint. hint. So it’s not like they’re even assigning homework this week. Or not on the first day.”

She grinned at him and he nodded, having had several of those classes previously. “If you suggested this project two weeks before winter break, I’d probably have a break with reality as I tried to be several places at once including my house working on it but-” she shrugged her shoulders “- like she said, I have an Etsy where I do stuff like this all the time. It brings in a little extra income and gives my hands something to do while I listen to lecture notes or my e-reader.”

“How much would you ask for a project like this?” Luka wanted to know.

“Well, you’re already going to be providing the box so it’s just parts and labor you’re paying for,” she said. “If you just want the velvet, which I already have, it’ll take me about ten minutes to cut and use spray adhesive on it-- then I’d say about five bucks. If you want me to give it a bit of a stain for some color then add another five?”

“You’d be getting a good deal,” the vendor said. “Our prices are pretty low this week because we remember what it’s like to be in school and want all the cool stuff, but don’t want to have to survive on ramen. However, we can’t sell them this cheap forever. And even though the box will only cost you ten dollars, once Marinette’s done with it, it’ll look like a million bucks!”

Luka picked up a basic pine box that had a small compartment for carrying his dice and the rest was an open tray. “So for twenty bucks, I can have this turned into that?” He pointed at a similar box that had a royal purple stain and black velvet lining.

Marinette smiled before saying, “Sure if you want purple, I could do that or something else if you’d prefer.”

“And it won’t be a problem for you?” he asked with real concern. “It won’t be stressing you out?”

She shook her head. “I promise, it won’t stress me out.”

“Okay, it’s a deal,” he said to both the women. Luka used his card to pay before asking Marinette, “So do you take Paypal, Venmo,” he paused before asking, “maybe cash?”

They started walking back to their table.

Marinette shook her head. “I try not to deal with cash if I can help it, but I do have Paypal set up with my Etsy or you could Venmo me.”

“Well, what’s going to make you more comfortable?” Luka asked as he sat back down next to Juleka.

“Oh,” Marinette brightened as she pulled out her purse. “I have a business card. Do you want to grab a pic of that? It has all the needed information on it”

Luka smiled as he pulled out his phone. “That would be perfect.”

He snapped a picture of the card before grabbing shots of the people at their table and then the rest of the room. After he played with the screen, Juleka and Rose’s phones both pinged. A few seconds later Marinette felt her phone buzz, too.

“Did you just send us pics of ourselves?” Juleka asked.

“Yup,” he grinned, “Sent them to the family chat. You know how the Captain is- Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Rose smiled back at him while Juleka rolled her eyes.

“Did you get the payment?” he asked Marinette. “Let me know if it didn’t go through and I’ll cancel that one to make sure you get paid.”

“What are you paying her for?” Juleka demanded.

“For your information I have just commissioned, uh, an angel from heaven I believe were the words, right, Kagami-” he lifted a brow in her direction and she nodded, “-to take this drab little box,” he held up the plastic bag containing his purchase, “and change it into the ultimate dice throwing experience.” He shrugged, “Well as ultimate as $20 can buy, anyway.”

The table laughed as he passed the bag over to Marinette after first wiping it down. She put it next to her purse and then grabbed a blank character sheet and the rejected pink and green sheets from Rose.

Marinette rifled through the class sheets while asking, “Do you really not want to be a fighter? I think there are a couple of other things in here like, um,” she pulled out one paper, “No, that’s Barbarian which is the opposite of not a fighter. Here’s wizard,” she lifted a few other pages, “-or there’s a bard.” She pulled out another paper, “or sorcerer.” She seemed to deflate. “That’s it for the less stabby, stabby occupations, unless you want to be a cleric or paladin which are more like holy fighters.”

Rose snickered.

“You should totally be a bard,” she said. She wiggled her eyebrows at Kagami who also broke out into snickers.

“Yes,” she agreed with Rose. “A bard would be perfect for you.”

Nino’s eyebrows contracted as he looked at Luka. “I don’t know if he’s got it in him to be a bard. His first attempt at barding was pretty lame and I don’t think he should be barding all over Marinette.”

Luka looked at his sniggering tablemates and then at Marinette who had some pink in her cheeks as she facepalmed.

“Okay, what’s up with the bard?” he asked everyone in general.

Marinette whispered, “Stop it Nino,” threateningly in his direction before answering Luka.

“Bards have a bit of a reputation for being highly charismatic, or thinking they are highly charismatic, and then trying to sleep with everything that moves and even some of the furniture.”

The table erupted into laughter.

“Oh,” was all he said even as he processed the earlier tittering. “I thought Rose was suggesting bard because I can play several instruments.”

“That never even entered my mind,” Rose said unhelpfully.

“You do?” Marinette asked. “What do you play?”

“Well, pretty much anything with strings but mostly guitar. Then I play percussion, some piano, clarinet, and sax and occasionally I play the bagpipes, badly.”

“I keep telling you,” Juleka piped up, “no one actually plays the bagpipes well. Otherwise they wouldn’t sound like that.”

The whole table broke into laughter.

“Are you in a band, dude?” Nino asked.

“Not right now, but I still sit in with a couple of guys I played with in high school. I don’t have much time with my job and trying to fit a double major into a single major time frame.”

“Oooh. What are you majoring in?” Kagami asked as she leaned over to hear his answer.

“Well music, obviously, but my other one is psych. I’m hoping to be able to do music therapy with children. Especially in lower income schools as they have kids that have high stress situations but low avenues for expression.”

Nino whistled. “That’s so cool man. What types of music do you even play?”

“Oh, I like folk, rock, pop, and metal, but I’ve also tried to branch out into punk and rap. I want to be familiar with the forms that the kids are used to and then help them express themselves through that music. It’s going to be tough though.”

“Why’s that?” Marinette asked.

“Because the school I was doing training in last semester has lots of kids whose families are from Mexico, Laos, and Pakistan and I just don’t know enough about traditional music for any of those groups. Not that they only listen to traditional at home, but those can be familiar to riff off. I mean I’ve heard of Mariachi music before, but it’s not the only traditional Mexican music.”

“Dude, you can’t be expected to know everyone’s music. You should probably let the kids show you what they like,” Nino said even as he motioned for Luka to continue.

I know that it’s not the only music they’d be exposed to or familiar with, but I only know about four phrases in Spanish-’ Mas, por favor, tortilla, and sí’. I don’t know any Hmong or Laotian words, and I’d like to think my little Pakistani friend wouldn’t try to teach me bad words, but I’m afraid to use what I learned from him in front of his mother. I’ve seen My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding!”

The group laughed again

“You certainly have your work cut out for you,” Marinette said.

Luka nodded then looked away. Seeing Kagami, he said, “Kagami you’re the only one here I haven’t really heard about majors or working. So, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Kagami said with a grimace. “I’m a math major because I love it and a science minor because chemistry is just amazing, but I’m not sure what I plan on doing with either of those things.”

“It’s okay not to know what you plan to do yet,” Luka said gently.

“Doesn’t Adrien want to be a professor of History?” Rose asked, with a sly smile.

“Yes, what about it?” Kagami asked, raising an eyebrow at the grinning girl.

“Think about it, Gami,” Rose said with a sigh. “You and Adrien could be that cute professor couple that all the students ship! You could teach chemistry, because you seriously were the only one that got me through that class last semester, and Adrien could teach ancient Mediterranean history. And you could sneak into each other’s offices for lunch dates. I bet you could even keep the students guessing if you’re in a relationship or not for years. It would be perfect!”

Kagami smiled at her friend. “I don’t know if it works that way, but it might be something to look into,” she said to the girl who looked like she was actually making heart eyes at the prospect.

“Okay Luka,” Marinette said. “Grab a white paper and we can start creating your bard.”

The genuine smile on her face was something Luka couldn’t help remembering even after they left the club for the evening. He carried home his new dice and the hope that he’d actually found some new friends.

Two nights later, Luka was pulling up to an unfamiliar house with a very familiar person standing out front. He secured his mask and the pizza carrier before walking up the steps to the landing. Nino’s expression was a mixture of embarrassed and pissed, and when Luka heard the discussion coming through an open window he understood why.

Nino spoke up quietly while Luka was climbing the stairs, pausing at the top step.

“Um, sorry about this, but I kind of walked out without my mask or my wallet,” he apologized. “It’s just that whenever she’s talking to Felix, I end up wanting to punch a hole in the wall and we can’t afford to lose our deposit.” He smiled, but the joke attempt fell flat. “Can you just hang here for a bit? They’ve almost got to the end and then I can go get your money.”

“How do you know they’re almost done?” Luka asked.

Nino glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. “I’ve heard it enough times.”

In the awkward silence that hung between the two of them, Luka heard Marinette’s voice.

“I can’t afford to break my lease and leave Nino in the lurch for the rest of the semester as well as contributing to your rent.” There was a silence before she continued, “Because he’s my very good friend and you don’t do that to friends and then get to keep them afterward.” Her voice rose in volume, “No, I can’t just move in with you and have your parents pay for me, Felix. I’m not going to sponge off of your parents or have them telling me I owe them for this for the rest of our lives.” Her voice suddenly sounded tired. “There’s nothing wrong with where I work. I like it. No, it doesn’t pay as much as where we were, but it’s not as stressful.” And now she sounded just done. “I’m not having this argument again Felix.”

Nino just sighed heavily, “She says that every time, yet here we are.”

Luka tried not to make eye contact with Nino or eavesdrop, but, well, there wasn’t much else he could do unless he wanted to pay for the pizza himself and then leave.

“I can’t come right now, I just ordered food and it’s on the way.” Her voice had lost all it’s color and vibrancy. “Nino’s not in. I can’t ask him to get it.”

Luka couldn’t help glancing at Nino when she said it. He had the decency to look away. Her next statements sent up red flags for Luka.

“No, I’m not meeting someone.” Her tone got higher, a little more insistent. “No, I’m not cheating on you with the delivery driver! Nino’s on his way home. He’s probably going to be pulling up just as the food gets here.”

This time Nino watched him as he looked away. He knew there was nothing going on between himself and Marinette, but still he felt the blush as the accusation fell from her lips.

Her voice got low, she was pleading with him now. “Felix, I’m going to eat my dinner and finish my homework so that tomorrow I won’t have anything hanging over my head when we go on our date.”

Another pause before, “You’ll have me all to yourself, just the way you like.”

“Please, Felix, I can’t.” Each sentence was more full of begging for understanding. “Not tonight.” She got quieter. “Don’t be mad.” She started to sound like she was talking in a fake, cutsie voice- more childlike and with less adult authority. “Okay, you’re not mad.”

“Don’t be upset, Fe,” her tone was wheedling for his favor.

“Yes, of course, I want to see you!”

“Yes, I’m being good for you.”

They do this all the time? he thought. Luka was finding it hard to keep his chill and looking at Nino’s drawn brows and thin mouth the other man wasn’t liking what he was hearing either.

“You’re the only one for me,” her tone cowed and sweet.

“Bye now sweet-” apparently Felix already hung up as they could now hear Marinette taking in great gulps of air.

Nino took that as his cue to hurry into the house calling, “Pizza’s here!” In a few moments Nino returned with his mask on and wallet in hand.

The sound of ragged breaths was the only thing they heard as Nino rummaged in his wallet for his card to tap on the card reader Luka held out for him. Luka couldn’t help the incredulous look he gave Nino as he slid the box out of the carrier onto Nino’s waiting hands.

“Yeah, I know,” Nino said to the silent accusation. “I’ve tried to talk to her about it, but she insists that she loves him.”

Luka nodded as he closed the carrier.

“It sure doesn’t sound like love on this end of the line.”

Nino’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, I know.”

Luka nodded to him and hurried to his car. As he started up the engine, he pulled out his phone and made sure his ear piece was on. He was pulling away from the curb when his call was answered.

“Jules, I’m screwed,” were his first words to his sister. “It’s Marinette. She’s a princess in distress and I want to save her from her a-hole boyfriend because, as we well know, I have a savior complex.”

He listened to her talk him through a grounding exercise before they continued their conversation.

“I know. I’m not responsible for saving anyone. We all have to save ourselves,” he sighed. “All I could ever hope to be is support. She has to want to get out of the situation and from the sound of it, she’s in it for the long haul.”

Juleka’s anxious voice mumbled the name Brinley. Luka laughed mirthlessly. “I’ve learned my lesson--no white knighting for me.”

He thought back to the overheard conversation. “But if I ever meet the guy in person, I’m going to deck him. I swear I’ll... I’ll give him concrete shoes and drop him over the side of mom’s boat at midnight. What do you mean what for?” he asked in surprise at Juleka’s question. “For making her feel bad for wanting to keep her friends, her independence, and her mental balance.”

Luka laughed at Juleka’s squawk and her subsequent expletive filled threat for Felix.

“No way, Jules! Rose’ll only have enough to bail one of us out and we both know she’ll choose you.”

Juleka’s bright laughter rang through the ear piece.

“Thanks, Jules,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I’ll bring home a Julerose special.” He smiled, grateful for the friendship of his sister. “I should be done in about an hour, yeah. Love ya!”

As he drove back to the pizza parlor, he couldn’t help but recall the quiet sobs at the end of Marinette’s call. His heart went out to her. He’d been there before, and it well and truly sucked. He determined that he’d try to be the best support he could for his new friend.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #lukanette exchange 2020 #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #dungeons dragons and dating #my writing

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