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swtki · 3 years

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My Game - Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a part 2 to Teachers Pet

SUMMARY: After Y/Ns little test, she takes Dr. Reid up on his offer. She also takes him back to the apartment.

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SMUT, FEM READER, PROFFESOR-STUDENT, TEACHER REID, ORAL (FEMALE RECIEVING), PENATRATIVE SEX, SEMI DOM-SUB

It had been three days since Dr. Reid emailed me. I hadn’t texted him yet, too afraid of not knowing what to say. When I pulled that little stunt at his desk, I expected nothing to come of it. Just seeing his cute and pink face was enough of a reward. But it was obvious to me in the days following, he wanted to cross his finish line.

My phone sat comfortably in my hands, the series of numbers lining the top of my screen. I had not an inkling of an idea of what I would say. Should I go casual? Professional? Sexy? I mean, did anyone ever know how to aproach their crush?

Y: It’s Y/N, sorry I took so long. I’ve been kinda busy.

S: No worries, I was beginning to think I had read the room incorrectly. What are your plans for Saturday night? Theres a great Italian restaurant next to where I’m staying in DC.

Y: That sounds wonderful, actually. I’ll meet you there at 7?

S: Perfect.

I reluctantly pulled my figure from the sofa, and soon eagerly jumping into the shower. When the water hit my face the entire day melted away, and left only the anticipation of that night. I felt so special, I mean I was living my most vivid fantasies and not every woman gets to do it with a genius professor.

With my makeup carefully applied, and my dress matching my shoes, I started down the stairs. As my heels made a clicking noise, I started to feel a familiar flutter in my stomach. I was nervous; First date nervous. Though I had met him many times, and most recently met his body with mine, the event of a first date was a pâté of emotions.

The door of the restaurant was cold against my hand. I didn’t expect a high end dining experience, and when I walked in the entry way I was glad it wasn’t. The entry way was filled with cozy items. The faded rose pattern on the wallpaper complimented the display of family photos.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a tall brunette man, it was a table for two.” I said to the hostess. She paused for a second, tapping on her tablet as she checks the current table descriptions.

“Ah yes, party of two for Reid?”

I confirmed and she led me through a hallway to our left, which led into a small dining area. The room walls were a burgundy color, illuminated by the candle sitting at the head of each table.

I thanked the woman as I walked toward Spencer. He looked a tad bit cleaner than usual, his hair was combed and tucked away behind his ears.

“Oh, here let me get that for you.” He rose from his seat and rushed over to the chair across from him.

“How gentleman like, Doctor.” He laughed and we both took our seats.

“Please, call me Spencer.” His form was more relaxed than it usually was in class, giving him a calmer and peaceful demeanor.

Dinner progressed, a glass of wine was nursed, and he insisted on paying our check. Though I had been on dates before, this felt like my first real adult date.

“How did you get here?” He inquired as we stepped onto the rough parking lot terrain.

“I took a cab, I’m thinking I may catch the train though.” I said. His mouth spread into a displeased expression.

“Nonsense, please let me drive you home. I would hate for those statistics we learned last week be applied in this manor.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. I hesitated to answer for a moment, instinctually I looked down and shifted my weight on my feet. The thought of him driving me home could end up in a number of ways; Mostly good. But, if I did take the train, it would end in a few ways; Mostly unmentionable.

“Alright, since you asked nicely.” His cheeks grew red as he avoided eye contact with me. I knew right then where our night would likely head.

“Would you like to come up? We can have a drink if you aren’t hell-bent on going to sleep before nine-thirty.” I joked with him.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to feel forced into anything because I know that theres a certain expectation when-“

“Spencer, if I didn’t want to fuck you, I wouldn’t have asked you up.”

Sure, having to say it in blatant terms is less than sexy, but thats what I adored about our dynamic at that point; I led the relationship.

I leaned into my fridge, purposefully bending over so my skirt lifted to show my ass.

“Well...fuck,” I said, “As it would turn out, someone stole my wine bottle and filled my fucking vodka bottle with water.” I stood up and shut the door, walking over to the counter inches away.

“One time I took the drink turn when it came to our friend-team-dinner-night, the bottle was forty dollars, which granted is the cheap wine more or less. To this day I still have no idea who stole the bottle, because I wanted to take it home.” Spencer reminisced. I laughed at his unusual way of trying to understand.

“Wasn’t really mine to begin with,” I started walking over to the sofa where he patiently sat. “I’m not of legal drinking age. But of course it tastes better when its forbidden, everything does.” I stepped in front of the man, his knees only an inch from my shin. "Can I touch you, Spencer?” I said in a soft voice, the lids of my eyes relaxed in a sweet shift.

“Y-yes.” He gasped, obviously so turned on by the way I stood over him, in power of him. I threaded his hair through my fingers and tugged back, pushing his head as far up as I could. His eyelids fell and he was no longer looking at me.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I want you to see everything.” He opened his eyes, his irises were colored with lust and desperation. I connected our lips in a long a sweet kiss. Rather than just having a mess of tongues, the kiss was filled to the brim with emotion, of pleasure that this was happening again. His lips were slightly swollen when I pulled away to unbutton his shirt. While I fiddled with the garment, he put his hands on my hips firmly.

“Can I- can you sit on my lap?” he asked, a red tint forming on his face. I smiled and obliged, sliding his shirt off of his lean torso. I started kissing him once more, this time I made sure to press my dripping panties against the large tent in his trousers.

“Would you like to take this to the bedroom?” I ask,hands resting comfortably on his neck.

“Please”, I stood and laced our hands together, leading him to my bedroom. Once we both entered through the doorway, I pushed him onto the bed, he fell softly.

I reached my hands behind my back to unzip my dress, as I felt it fall past my legs and onto the floor, I saw his eyes scan every detail of my body.

“One might say you were planning this.” He eyed my matching lace set.

“Wanted to make sure Spencer Reid had the best.” I replied, climbing on top of him so that I would be straddling him. I felt his hands connect to my waist as we kissed, his hands were warm and excited me even more. He pulled away, quickly pressing his lips to my neck and collarbone. My breath hitched in my throat as he bit down lightly on the skin. “Lets get these off, shall we?” I motioned to his pants, which had to be killing him right now. While he does that, I reach into my drawer and retrieve a condom, laying against the plush material of my pillows after I set it down on the table.

He gets on top of me , pressing his lips with mine as he rubs the back of my bra, signaling he wants me to take it off. I ,of course, reach back and unhook it, tossing it onto the floor. He grabs my tit while dancing his tongue with mine, making me more wet than I thought was possible. Usually, these actions signified a need for control, but when Spencer did it, it was like a desperate sixteen year old boy. Its clear he needed me.

“Can I...” he nods down to my cunt, still covered by the thin material of my panties.

“Can you what, Spencer?” I lace my fingers in his hair and pull, earning a soft groan from the man hovering over me.

“Can I please eat you out?” He begged. I smiled and pushed his head down, spreading my legs when his face met my stomach. He started by taking his thumb and rubbing over my clothed pussy. I bucked my hips, desperate for more friction. “Is it okay for me to take these off?” His eyes met mine, searching for confirmation. I smiled and nodded, moving my hands to stroke his hair rather than tug at it.

As his fingers latched onto the last piece of fabric that covered me, instinctually I pushed my hips upwards. He looked at me, silently asking if taking the garment off was still okay. When I bit my lip, a rose hue covered his face. He was flustered by me, by the escalation of us. But nevertheless, he slowly pulled off the last piece of modesty I had.

To re-assure him, I lightly tugged at his hair. Thankfully, he took the hint and licked a long stripe on my clit. My voice was caught in my throat as he continued making flat-tongued movements. I felt his hands slowly wrap around my thighs, pushing my heat into his face more than it already was.

He devoured me without hesitation, but when he pulled away for air he replaced it with two fingers and then when my stomach tensed and my eyes rolled back into my head, he used three. I finished with his mouth sucking on my bundle of nerves and his fingers buried inside me.

“Do you want to keep going?” He raised his head up and his thumb stroked my thigh, which he was still grasped onto.

“Yes, God yes please, Spencer.” I whined, the high fading away. He stood up off the bed and removed his strained boxers. He was beautiful; His lanky form was now a lean masculine type. I smiled at him, to which he obviously thought he was being laughed at. He couldn’t make eye contact with me, resulting to the floor instead. “Spencer,” I crawled towards the edge of my bed and placed my hands on his shoulders, “You are so gorgeous, the reason I’m smiling is because you always hide it in those sweater vests.” he relaxed.

“Thanks” he mumbles, still avoiding my eyes.

“Now please, come back here and let me take care of you.” He climbed back onto the bed while I rested against the pillows. He was nervous, and obviously he wanted to do it right. I could see his hands shaking as he unwrapped the condom and put it on.

“You’re sure?” He asks, the tip of his cock resting on the top of my inner thigh. He was easily six inches, my hand could probably wrap around and be too small.

“Yes, please fuck me.” He slowly inserted himself into my dripping cunt, causing me to let out a lewd string of words. Once again, my hands flung to his hair and tugged harshly, causing his arms to almost buckle beneath his own weight. I could feel his pelvis against mine, his muscular bottom torso pressed up against my clit. “Move, baby, its okay.” I reassure him. His hips pull away from mine, then snap back with a nice pressure. He quickly started to pick up his pace, small grunts escaping through his clenched jaw. “Do you like the feeling of your pathetic little cock inside my cunt? I bet you feel like a special little bitch now.” I moaned into his ear. “Well, are you going to tell me how much you enjoy my cunt?”.

“God, yes! I love it so fucking-“ his moan paused the sentence and he focused on getting his movements right.

“So fucking what? Go on, finish the sentence baby.”

“So fucking good, I love being inside of you so much!” He was practically whimpering in pleasure.

“Be a good boy and make me cum all over that pretty little cock of yours?” I struggled to contain my moans, I could not fall apart this quickly.

“Yes I will!” His fingers reached down to rub my clit, impressively keeping a steady rhythm. I felt the knot in my stomach becoming hotter and hotter as the minutes passed by.

“Oh my god, such a good- oh my god!” my eyes rolled back into my head as the impact of my orgasm was full forced. When my head cleared, I tugged on his hair, pulling his head so he could look me in the eye. “Gonna cum soon? Are you going to cum all inside of me?” his thrusts got off beat, he was close.

“Yes, I’m gonna-“

“Ask permission to cum, Spencer.”

“Can I please cum inside of you? Please?” He whines.

“Of course you can, baby.” With that he makes a strained moaning noise and his hips slowly stop moving. We’re both panting, while he flushes the condom I walk into the bathroom next to him. I turn to the shower and twist the hot water knob.

“We might as well get clean together, yeah?” I said.

“Yeah.” he smiles and kisses me once more.

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angelsdevils · 3 years

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Karma x Reader

Title: Gravity 2/2 Fluff No Warning

Seven years, it has been seven years since Karma had graduated middle school. It has also been seven years since he was rejected by you. You still filled his mind each and every night, and he knew he was still in love with you. Not long after he confessed and was rejected he had found out you and Yoshida were dating. He remained your friend though, even if it hurt him. He just wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

Thinking about it, he was still caught up in your gravity. You haven’t seen him in seven years and probably still dating Yoshida. That thought always made him slightly more depressed before imagining your smile. He wondered how you and Yoshida were doing, after all you and Yoshida were so in love in middle school. Any and everyone could see it, which always made him slightly more jealous.

Right now Karma was walking to the nearest cafe after his entrance exam for the Bureaucrat. He walked in and stood in line, looking around it was a rather cute cafe. He smiled slightly before it was his turn. He ordered his usual before going to take a seat, that was until he saw the familiar (h/c) hair, and voice. He turned towards you and you were talking on the phone with someone, about...a loan?

“I am just saying, you have not paid the amount. Once you pay it, I and everyone will stop calling you... okay thank you. Okay yes, I am ready...” You began typing the credit card information in, and processed the payment on your work laptop. You hung up and took a sip of (favorite/drink). You massage your temples before typing up notes for the accounts receivable and what you did on the call.

Karma made his way to you, feeling his heart racing. You looked absolutely stunning in (f/c) dress, your hair had gotten a bit longer. You noticed someone making their way to you, so you stop typing and looked up to see the familiar trouble making red heads. Your face lit up and you got up from your seat.

“K-Karma?”

“Yeah, (Y/N)... you look... you look amazing.” He said and you gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug and you were still short compared to him.

“You do too, how have you been?” You asked and Karma motioned for you to sit, and he sat in front of you.

“I just took the entrance exams, other than that pretty good.”

“Well I have no doubt you passed it with flying colors.” You said and he laughed slightly.

“You may be right...”

“I know I am...”

“How have you been?”

“Working and going to school. The job I am at said when I graduate university they will move me up in the company until then to be an accounts receivable specialist.” You said and he smiled leaning against his hand.

“Well that’s good, that means you are showing progress then.”

“Yeah, I actually like this company and I don’t have to go into the office all the time unless I have meetings with clients.” You said sipping on your drink as Karma stuff came and he shook his head.

“How is...Yoshida.” He asked and you looked at him confused.

“Huh?”

“You guys were dating in middle school, how is he?”

“Oh I believe he is doing well. I talk to him occasionally, he took over the motorcycle shop.”

“You talk to him occasionally? Aren’t you two dating?” Karma asked not meaning to pry, but you didn’t think of it like that.

“We were yes, but after I moved to America, things just got so difficult for us. We both agreed to just be friends, because distance, work and school no one has that sort of time.”

“You are back now though.”

“Yeah, we still are busy people. Plus, we already agreed to leave that in middle school. We are just good friends now.” You said shrugging slightly before finishing your note up. You closed your laptop so Karma could have your full attention.

“I hope I am not disrupting your work.” He said and you shook your head.

“No, I am finished for the day. I have been working three days straight. My boss emailed me saying to take a break since I caught up with all of the work.”

“Okay, I almost felt bad for a minute there.” He said and you hummed.

“Yeah right, you were probably hoping you were distracting me.”

“Hey... first off that was middle school me. I wouldn’t do that now.”

“Yeah I believe that as much as I believe in Santa Clause.” You said with a wide smile and he poked your forehead.

“Shorty.”

“I am not even that short.” You puffed your cheeks slightly and he gently pinched your cheeks.

“You should spend the day with me,” He said as you packed your laptop and paperwork away.

“If you aren’t busy yourself.” You said and he shook his head.

“I would make time for you even if I was.” He said and you shook your head with a blush. He smiled and offered you his hand. You took it grabbing your bags and left the cafe with him. He didn’t let go of your hand instead he held you closer. It was a silent walk after you both got caught up with everything.

Karma’s heart was racing and he just wanted to confess to you all of the time. He took a deep breath as he looked at the sky as you both went to the park. You looked at him and he looked deep in though, so you tilted your head to the side.

“Are you okay Karma?”

“Yeah...”

“Are you sure?” He turned to you to meet your gaze, then your hand in his, then your lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“I... I still love you.” He let the words fall from his lips, he set your bag on the bench and pulled you by your waist.

“Karma... I?”

“Please tell me, you aren’t in love with someone else again.” He said, meeting your eyes. You felt a blush cover your cheeks and you looked away. Karma’s shoulders dropped and you met his eyes again biting your lip.

“Actually I am...” You said and Karma let a sigh out going to let you go, but you step closer to him.

“If I am being honest, there was another reason why me and Yoshida broke up,,,” You said and he was confused as to why you mention that.

“He was in love with someone else, and I was in love with someone else.”

“Do I know them?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, you do... you know him really well.” You said and Karma wanted to be done with this conversation. He should have not confessed again, he went to let your hands go and you used this chance to hold his cheeks. You leaned up on your tippy toes and pressed your lips to yours.

“I loved you Karma. I just didn’t know that in middle school. I am sorry, me and Yoshida both knew my heart belonged to you and his to another person.”

“(Y/N)...” Karma looked at you in shock and leaned his forehead against yours with a gentle smile.

“That makes me so happy.” Karma said before holding your cheeks and leaning down capturing your lips again. You felt your heart flutter slightly before he parted away and decided to tease you.

“You are so short... even when I bend down...”

“Seriously? You couldn’t have kept that to yourself and ruin the moment?” He grinned and held you close.

“Nope, it’s me we are talking about...”

“Geez jerk.”

“Dork.”

“Sadistic asshole.”

“Shorty.”

“Ugh...” You both fell silent before laughing.

#Karma #Karma Akabane #karma assassination classroom #karma x reader #fluff #assassination classroom

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jenomark · 3 years

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Part 5: YangYang, The Rich, Little Asshole

➔Pairing: YangYang x Reader (Female) | Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration, fingering, angst ➔Word count: 5,436

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

Kun leaned against his car and folded his arms against his chest. The wind was picking up, so you pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands and hunched over. No matter what, you wouldn’t wait in his car, like he asked. All Kun wanted was to grill you about who was on the other end of the phone call.

“You can go home.” you said. “ I don’t need you to wait with me.”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said. “But, it’s cold, so we should wait inside your place.”

“No.” you said, knowing that if you waited inside, Kun would try and worm his way back into your good graces, and you would let him.

Kun sighed. “I don’t...know how to fix this.”

You turned away from him. Any direction that wasn’t Kun’s direction was good enough. You could still feel the clutches of alcohol around your mind, squeezing until it was pulp. You started moving your feet around to keep warm from the chilly night air, but there was an iciness to you that wouldn’t melt. For the most part, ignoring Kun felt good. You liked seeing him waiting on you, maybe a little jealousy creasing the lines on his face.

To pass the time, you took out your phone and looked at your messages and emails. A little voice in your brain told you to delete them all. No one would know or care. You could start over tomorrow and regain control of yourself. You could come clean to Lucas, break things off with Kun, give Hendery the apology you know he deserved, and tell men like Ten and Xiaojun that they deserved far better than the likes of you.

You looked at the plethora of messages from another possible future client you were ignoring. He had been pushing to meet you for weeks. Every message title was the same kind of vibrant greeting, followed by the usual “I don’t usually do this…” You closed your phone and wished you were also the type of person that didn’t do this. What you did, you also didn’t know how to fix.

You looked at Kun. He wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were on the windows to your place, his face pondering questions you knew you would never answer.

“I’m moving,” you said. “I’m moving in with Lucas. In a few weeks, you won’t know me anymore.”

Without fully registering what you had said, Kun touched his hand to his heart. “I think I’ll always know you.”

You thought about taking off your shoe and throwing it at him, but violence was never the answer. “You never intended for us to be together, did you?”

Kun shifted from one foot, to the other. “It’s complicated.”

You shook your head. “I really thought you would, you know? Leave her. Not leave your kids. I knew you weren’t that type of man, and I’d never want you to be. But, Kun, imagining a life with you was too easy. It was too fun, too distracting, too much of a fairy tale.”

“My feelings were real.” he said. “I’ve meant everything I’ve said up until this point.”

“Were real?”

“Are real.” he corrected himself. “But you won’t let me in. If I knew you were like this, I would have broken it off a long time ago.”

Again, you shook your head. “You have no idea what you want.”

Kun opened his mouth to speak. You didn’t hear what he said, just watched the way his lips told lie after lie.

Of course he believes he knows what he wants, you thought. He has the right job, the big house, the pretty wife. He’s a father, a friend, and a good son. He’s handsome and good at sex. He knows all the right things to say.

You stayed silent until a car pulled up. The car was black, not unlike the one that Ten sent your way, and all the ones before and after it. The only difference was the boy hanging out of the window, his arms raised above his head, and his hair flying in the wind.

“Good evening.” he said, his slight German accent making your body perk up. “Your ride is here.”

YangYang. 20. Self-professed rich, little asshole. Daddy’s money, but not enough of daddy’s love, YangYang liked to dip his fingers into many honey pots. In the beginning, you weren’t sure you could keep up with him sexually, but as it turned out, you could. You and YangYang were purely sex and company, nothing more and nothing less. It was the most straightforward sexual partnership you had.

Kun looked at the sleek, black car and scowled. He was so sheltered away from your real life, that it was his first taste of the person you were with other men. Judging by his face, he was angry with you, but more angry at himself for being angry in the first place. The wheel of lies would never end, for him or for you.

“Isn’t he a child?” Kun asked, loudly enough for YangYang to hear him over the car's engine.

“Me?” YangYang said, looking mock-offended. “A child? Mind your manners, old man.”

The car came to a smooth stop and YangYang got out. He was wearing pajamas and a robe. He knew how ridiculous he looked, but he didn’t care. He was what he was. You looked down at the slippers on his feet and smiled. The smile stopped as soon as Kun spoke again, and YangYang noticed your reaction.

“Old man?” Kun asked. “I’m not o-”

“-Is everything okay?” YangYang asked you, not sparing a second look at Kun.

You nodded. The best thing about YangYang was that he never asked too many questions. If you said you were alright, you were alright. He motioned to the car door hanging open and said, “Your carriage awaits.”

As soon as you made a start to leave, Kun came from around his car. He sunk down to his knees on the asphalt in front of you. You looked down at him, everything in you wanting so badly to take him into your arms, to forgive him for the night, take him up to your apartment and fall asleep against his body. It was until you looked at how uninterested YangYang was in Kun that you were faced with reality.

“Don’t walk out of my life like this,” Kun said. “I’m here begging you, on my knees, on this street in front of everyone. Give me another chance. We can make it more than just sex, I promise.”

“You have a baby on the way.” you said.

YangYang’s eyes widened. “That’s fucked up, bro.”

“Goodbye, Kun.” you said.

You got in the car and stared straight ahead, not daring to catch Kun’s eyes . YangYang slid in next to you. He didn’t put his hand on your knee. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t ask you what was going on in your life, or if you were okay. It was something you really liked about YangYang: how little he cared about what went on in other people’s lives. He was the right person to call.

The only thing YangYang asked about Kun was if he was also a rich asshole and you replied, that no, Kun was just an asshole.

“To my place?” YangYang asked.

“Yes, to your place.”

YangYang lived by himself in a penthouse apartment with two floors and a view that normally would take your breath away had your heart not been shattered into splintered pieces. A fun, colorful slide ran from the upstairs to the downstairs. There was graffiti art on the walls, splotches of neon colors on formally stark, white walls as a result of YangYang’s boredom. His style of decor was haphazard and typical of a twenty year old boy, in that none of it made any sense. He kept his fridges stocked with energy drinks, and his pantry stocked with more snacks than you had in all of your places combined. It was a much different vibe from all of the other rich men you entertained. Stepping inside of his penthouse made you feel like a child again. There was magic in every corner, but sadly, you felt none of it.

“You know I don’t pry,” YangYang began. “But you look really sad, like a sad dog.”

“Sorry.”

“Can I help with anything?”

You inhaled. You held your breath. When you exhaled, YangYang had moved on from the conversation. You set your phone on his coffee table next to a set of legos. YangYang walked upstairs to where his bedroom was. Through the glass partition, you could still see him. He removed his robe and ruffled his own hair. You turned to look down as a long-haired cat brushed against your leg.

“Hey little man,” you said. “Have you missed me?”

You and YangYang didn’t meet up that frequently. He was always horny, but he had a large amount of people he went to, so that every need was met. You didn’t know what other things he was into, but his times with you were relatively vanilla.

The cat meowed at the same time you heard YangYang barreling down his slide. You met him at the end, a playful smile on your lips.

“I really appreciate you coming to get me,” you began. “I know we weren’t scheduled this month.”

“No problem,” he said. “I could use the company. Things can get a little lonely way up in the sky.”

You never asked why YangYang didn’t have a steady girlfriend. He was cute in a really sweet, younger brother way. You never saw him as a brother figure because that would be pretty gross, but there was something about YangYang that made you very fond and protective of him.

“Anyway, “ he said. “I can tell you want to get some sleep. I’ll leave you be. You know where my guest room is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Early. Tons of breakfast. Me and you. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”

“Yeah, it does.” you said, meaning it.

Even though you knew his place like the back of your hand, YangYang walked you to the guest bedroom. You and him had fucked in there only once before, but it was always offered to you as a place to get away for awhile. The only reason you never had sex in there much was because the room itself was so plain and formal. You figured the lack of life made YangYang uncomfortable to be in for long periods of time. Beyond the double doors and the slide, and all of these grandiose things he grew up around, he wasn’t a little, rich asshole. He wasn’t a playboy. He was just Liu YangYang, a lonely boy living in a lonely life.

You didn’t want to shed any more tears for Kun, or spare another thought about him. Before you went to sleep, you cried by yourself as a way to let go. You tucked your knees to your chest and you let all of the feelings pour out of you, your tears soaking into freshly cleaned sheets. You tossed and turned until the early morning, your night demons coming to haunt you. When you woke, you didn’t feel rejuvenated like you wanted, and Kun was still infiltrating the spaces in your mind you kept for yourself.

You sat up with a start, too disoriented to understand where you were, at first. Your head was pounding. It might have been normal to sulk in bed for a little while, but you got up and went to the on-suite bathroom to wash up. You pulled your sweatshirt and shirt off until you were in your bra, splashed water on your face, and gave yourself a good look.

“I think you look pretty.”

You jumped. YangYang was standing in the doorway. He had a fresh pile of clothes in his hands, as if he knew what you were up and doing.

“I didn’t mean to be a creep.” he said. “There are cameras everywhere, and I thought I might come and see if you needed these.”

You took the clothes from him and looked at yourself in the mirror after he walked out. He was flattering you. Your make-up and hair were a mess. Your eyes were puffy. You looked like you had been ridden hard and put away wet.

“I hate this.” you said

You looked at the clothes YangYang brought: a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit you, one of his t-shirts and a hoodie. Quickly, you put the clothes on, put up your hair using an elastic, and wiped away left behind mascara that was clinging to your lower lashes. You brushed your teeth with your fingers and some toothpaste, and went downstairs. You didn’t use the slide.

Downstairs, YangYang was leaning against his kitchen counter in a pink apron. The dining room table was full of food that he didn’t cook, pastries of every color and shape, a plate of rolled eggs stacked high, and many more things to satisfy his sweet tooth. You knew he didn’t make any of the food, but seeing him act like he was the chef tickled you.

“A feast fit for a queen.” he said.

You sat at the table. You weren’t feeling hungry, and you certainly didn’t feel like a queen. You looked at the food. It was such a wasteful array of things you and him would barely touch, and it made you sad. Your mind was starting to wander as you looked over everything, your eyes beginning to glaze over and replay memories behind them.

“Ah, that’s never good,” he said. “I know that look. Can I try getting your mind off of him? I could go back and fight him. He looked weak.”

You looked his way. “I wish it were that easy.”

YangYang was the type of boy who would wear absolutely nothing underneath his apron. He would lead you into the kitchen, put you on top of his counter and take your hand to brush it against the imprint of his cock. Marathon sex would ensue, and some time later, when your limbs were tangled in his, you would let him take you again. But the person before you tore off his apron and was perfectly dressed underneath. He looked tired, like he was dealing with his own personal issues. YangYang came and sat beside you, all the sympathy in the world, and none of the pity in his eyes.

“We can do whatever you want.” YangYang said. “I could take you for a day out on the town. We could go to an arcade and play claw machines until I’m out of pocket change. I’ll win you a stuffed bear and link my arm with yours, grease from french fries on our fingertips. We could stuff our faces here and pass out on my couch, you with the fuzzy blanket you like, and me with the remote control on my belly. We could pretend to be strangers that just met on the train. I’d sit next to you and tell you about my life. We could be anybody but us for today.”

“Honestly, all of that sounds good.” you said. “Being anyone else but me. ”

YangYang smiled, leaned in and whispered, “ You and me both, but, I quite like you how you are.”

“You might be the only one.”

“I doubt it.”

YangYang covered his hand over yours. You felt grateful for all the people in your life who tried to make things easier for you. Those people were never forgotten by you. Amongst all of the bad choices you made on your part, there was always someone who was ready to see the best in you. You could see it in YangYang’s eyes, the way he didn’t see some poor girl in love with a married man. He didn’t see the person who had sex for money, or the one cheating and keeping secrets from her boyfriend. He saw you as what you were, and the beauty of what you could be.

“Do I have to choose right now?” you asked.

YangYang pursed his lips. “No. We could just sit here until our asses go numb.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“We could talk.” YangYang offered. “I know you and I aren’t talkative, but the option is there. I kind of need a friend right now.”

Making friends in the industry was one of the reasons why you still kept the job, even though you were mostly unhappy. In your loneliness, and in your ugliness, there were still people who wanted to be around you. They wanted your company. They needed your company. They smiled when you came around, and it was genuine, and infectious. On a deeper level, you suspected you were masking all of your real issues by seeing men, by being their fantasy, but you weren’t willing to dive into it too much.

So, as a friend to YangYang, you listened to what he had to say. You placed your head on your hands and watched him speak, his youth disappearing with every word. Not once were you lost in your own problems. Not once did you think of Kun, or Lucas, or Hendery.

“I don’t mean to unload all of my stuff on you,” YangYang said, leaning back in his chair. You noted how much younger he looked when he was done speaking, how much weight was lifted from his shoulders. “It feels good getting it out. That much is true.”

“Good.” you said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give more advice.”

YangYang scrunched his nose. “I don’t think I need it. Just needed someone to listen to me rant.”

You lifted your head from your hands and looked out at the view from his penthouse windows. You wanted to tell YangYang that you needed him, too, but you didn’t. You felt scared, like your own vulnerability would show itself once YangYang showed his. You shifted in your chair and didn’t look at him again until he called your name.

“You’re too good for him.” he said. “You’re too good for all of them.”

“Mmm, if only that were the truth.”

You felt the itch as soon as he started speaking. You would rather scratch it with sex to shut YangYang up, to keep him from going further. That’s how your life always worked. You used your body to forget, to shut up the world for one second. You fucked to forgive yourself. It took all you had not to reach out and start something with YangYang that you weren’t feeling, just because you could.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” YangYang asked.

Expecting the worst, you fought hard to keep the surprise from your face. YangYang saw and laughed, his smile beaming. You found yourself smiling, too, wondering if his line of questioning was normal, because you were already grown up. You thought about the slide and the way he lived his life, and wondered if he still thought he hadn’t.

“Entertain me.” YangYang said. “An honest answer. Don’t even think about it. If you could be anything right now, right here, what would it be? Money doesn’t matter. Time doesn’t matter. It’s just you and doing something you love.”

“I don’t know.” you said.

“That’s not an answer.”

“But I genuinely don’t know.” you said.

It was true. Your mind drew a blank. For as long as you could remember, passions were really hard to come by. You weren’t interested in much when you were young. You didn’t have hobbies. You didn’t yearn to go places, or to learn new things. Suddenly, you felt the void in front of you, and it felt cold and empty.

“What about you?” you asked. “What do you want to be?”

YangYang got up from his chair and walked over to the windows. He gestured out at everything, at the city that curled up at his feet like his cat. You got up and joined him, your eyes penetrating the streets below. He stood behind you and touched your arms. You could feel his breath on your neck. He was hesitant in moving your hair, but he brushed it aside and laid the sweetest kiss on your skin. It was a tender moment that almost made you cry.

“I just want to be kind, I think.” he said softly in your ear. “I want to make a difference. I want to be happy and fulfilled. I think that’s all. I think that’s all there is.”

YangYang kissed your neck again. You leaned back into his body and watched a bird fly by, soaring through the sky, completely unafraid. You focused on your own breathing, on the silence that felt too thick with the past.

“Do you ever just want to quit the life you have and run away?” you asked.

“All the time.”

“Would you ever do it?”

“Maybe,” YangYang said. “I’m not sure if anyone would miss me.”

You turned around to face him. “ I would miss you.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” he said. “Someone would miss me, so I would never do it. Keep myself here forever, perhaps until I’m too old. If you want to run away, I’m not sure it’s always a bad thing. Sometimes you just have to go and see what is out there for yourself. Sometimes you can’t worry about whether someone will miss you or not.”

“You are full of the philosophical today, YangYang.” you said.

“I always am.” he said. “We just never stop fucking long enough to listen.”

You smiled. “I mean, we could still fuck, if you want.”

He thought about it. Watching him think about it meant the world to you. But there was something about the way it felt with you both standing there that was anything but sexy. The time for fucking had passed, and you could feel the future hurtling towards you.

YangYang shrugged. “Sometimes you need a good fuck, and sometimes you just need a good hug. Both are good.”

With that, he held out his arms. You took a step forward and let YangYang hug you. You felt stiff until he started rubbing your back to comfort you. Gradually, you could feel your body and soul softening. You wrapped your arms around him for a long time, thankful that Liu YangYang was anything but a rich, little asshole.

“Where have you been?”

When you came home, Lucas had come out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, and his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Your brain created a scenario where you laid it all out in front of him, every lie you’d ever told, and every secret you’d ever kept. Catching him while he was vulnerable and naked could be the easy way out you were looking for. You almost did it, but the way he looked at you began to make you feel angry. It was like you were insignificant, and he was tired and bored of even looking in your direction.

“I was out with a friend.”

“All night?” he asked. “Must have been a good friend.”

You didn’t say anything, because anything at that moment could have been the truth. Instead, you walked further inside and went over to hug him. You were still riding the high of being around someone as free as YangYang. A part of you wanted to keep the sentiments going, to feel comfort in the life you were living. But Lucas moved away from you, denying your affections.

“Why were you in my clothes?” he asked. “What were you looking for?”

You had two seconds to come up with a lie that would sound convincing. When you didn’t, Lucas left the room. You were still standing in the same place when he came back fully dressed. You tried to brace yourself for the end of an era, for the argument that would burn you out for good. You were not prepared for the cold shoulder, or for Lucas taking his keys and walking out of the door.

You: I know you never wanted to hear from me again, but Erase Message You: I’m sorry I hurt everyone. I never meant to hurt you. Erase Message You: Can you come to our place? Send Message

You sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You swore you could feel your soul being sucked out from your lungs and out through the grate in the wall where the heat should have come out. It was freezing in the room, and dark because of a busted lamp. It wasn’t ideal for someone who already felt as threadbare as the carpet, but it was the one place - the last place- he knew to find you.

After trying to reach Lucas through message, you had given up. You left the apartment after him and puttered downtown on your own. You had spent a lot of time thinking, watching, waiting. You were trying to recall a feeling other than the numbness you felt. YangYang’s warmth and vibrancy was gone. The hopefulness was slipping away every second you spent sitting on the bed, knees knocked together, and shoes grinding a piece of trash into the carpet.

You could feel yourself at the end of your rope. You had many choices, and all of them had you quitting your life as a sex worker and searching for a little slice of happiness. You wanted more for yourself, and from yourself. Spinning around in circles, your web of lies keeping you restrained, wasn’t your ideal life. All of those thoughts and more were rummaging around in your brain, when there was a soft knock on the door.

You weren’t sure he would come. If you were him, you didn’t think you would have made the choice. You got up and answered the door, swinging it open to see him standing there holding a wad of money in his fist, just like the last time you saw him. When he saw your face starting to screw up, Hendery’s eyes got comically wide.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke. A poorly timed joke. “

It wasn’t just the tears. You could feel your legs collapsing underneath you. You felt everything fall when you saw him. Luckily, right on time, Hendery caught you before your knees could buckle. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, his face full of worry.

“What happened?” he asked. He rubbed your head and sat with you in his arms, on the bed. “Did someone hurt you? What is it? Tell me.”

All of the words wanted to come out, but your mouth was like bumper-to-bumper traffic. You stuttered and felt yourself beginning to whine. You felt ugly that you were reacting in the way you were, but Hendery’s kind eyes began to soothe you.

“It was a stupid joke.” he said. “I’m sorry. I take it back. Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not you.” you managed to say.

You untangled yourself from his body and sat on the bed beside him. Hendery was inches away from kneeling down on the floor in front of you to look at your face. He kept looking into each of your eyes, his hands holding yours, moving to rub against your leg, and lastly, going to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“Lucas?” he asked.

You shook your head no. Realizing that you were lying again, you tried a different approach. You moved yourself back on the bed so that you could face him. Taking the first step of honesty felt painful.

“You’re the first person in my life I was ever fully honest with,” you said. “But I still lie to you, too. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

“No,” he said. “I lie all the time. I lied when I said I never wanted to see you again.”

You took Hendery’s hands and held them. “I’m sorry. I should have stopped what we were doing when I knew you were falling in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t want that.”

“I know,” you said. “But it’s what should have happened. I thought I didn’t know why I did it, but I think I do now. It’s not an excuse. I’m not excusing anything I’ve done, but I want you to understand me. You made me feel something, Hendery. You made it easy to distract myself from my shitty life.”

Hendery leaned in to kiss you. Once you felt him on your lips, you were hungry for more. The long conversation you wanted to have with him was forgotten. You kissed him back and fed yourself. You got up on your knees on the bed with him and held your body against his.

“ I don’t care.” he said. “I just want you. You make me feel it all.”

You could taste your own salty tears in his kiss. Your mind was so barren of any kind of rational thought, so letting Hendery take off your clothes was easy. You did the same for him, touching his body like it held all of life's answers. You clung to his sweaty skin. You stretched yourself across the hotel bed, your body eager to be filled with something, anything.

Neither of you could stop. Hendery remembered everything you liked. He parted your legs and slipped his fingers inside of you. His eyes never left yours, even as you got on top of him, your hair matted to your face and a wild look in your eyes.

“Like old times. “ he said.

You placed your hand over his mouth. He licked your fingers and you smiled. You took him inside of your body, feeling very full. You could still see the love staring back at you, could feel it in the way he trembled as you fucked. You missed him. Each touch brought life back to a memory, like crayons coloring in a page.

Looking up at the ceiling made you feel like you were flying through space. You would have welcomed feeling lost, but Hendery pulled you back down to earth again. He sat up, shifting himself so you were riding him in a sitting position. He touched his nose to yours and held your back as you started moving.

You let yourself go, leaning backwards, feeling Hendery’s strong grip holding you up. His lips were on your collarbone, his tongue leaving trails all on your skin. It wasn’t why you invited him, but you always knew how to make him stay.

You laid on Henderys chest. Your body was exhausted, your brain even more so. Hendery looked content, like he had been waiting to see you again to feel that ecstasy. You were scared of letting him down again, but you wouldn’t think like that. Besides, after he came, he kept repeating that he knew you could never be together. You were grateful for his effort, but hearing him say it made you a little sad.

“I think I’m going to quit.” you said. “I’m not sure I can keep this up much longer.”

Hendery looked down, his chin doubled. You touched your fingers to his face and laughed. Seeing you smile made him smile.

“When?” he asked.

You could hear the hope in his voice. You wished it could rub off on you. You laid back down on his chest, your ear hot against his skin. You didn’t have an answer for him, and even if you did, you weren’t sure it was his to have.

Hendery got up to go to the bathroom, so you checked your phone. There were no messages from Lucas, none from Ten, none from Xiaojun, and definitely none from Kun. You looked through some of the old messages from possible clients and felt a pull towards them. Their happy, hopeful faces called out to you, begging you not to leave them.

You heard Hendery talking to himself in the bathroom and rolled over. You flicked through more clients, coming up on the one from before. His name was WinWin, and he was gorgeous. Too persistent, maybe, but he looked like a sweet man. Before things had gotten too crazy, you were thinking about entertaining the idea of adding on a new client to make things interesting. You clicked on his profile. You opened his messages and thought of something clever to write back.

If you were going to quit your job, you might as well have one last hurrah.

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doodleimprovement · 4 years

Text

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask - Alternate Ending

Or: “The extremely self indulgent 7 page fic were Nell gets to be more helpful and has some actual characterization”

Yeahhhh this isn’t canon to the fic, but I wanted to write it because I can, at LAST give ya’ll Nell’s backstory for how they came to live in Subcon in the CSAU

Per usual, the “Coffee Shop AU” belongs to the ever wonderful @doodledrawsthings

Also, note: Both MJ and Nell use “they/them” pronouns, with MJ being “He/They” and Nell being “She/They” To keep things from getting too confusing, Nell will be “They” and MJ will be “He”

Enjoy!

Nell was honestly a bit surprised when MJ came to their home the morning after Halloween, sheepishly stating that the mask seemed ... stuck.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Huh.. Come on in then. I’ll get some tea going and see about helping you out, hm?”

He walked into their house, taking a moment to actually look about the place- as he didn’t get much of a chance before- and took a seat in their small living room.

The ambiance of the outside followed inside, with the walls painted chestnut brown with warm yet bright pops of color on the windowsill and the various picture frames full of people he didn’t know. The curtain over the wide window was patterned with little pumpkins, which he found cute, and hanging from a few ceiling hooks were what Clover would call “Low-maintenance” plants. The dark colors match well with the room, making it feel a bit comfier than it otherwise might.

The couch he sat on was across from an armchair, and both were colored a warm orange, with an espresso-colored coffee table. On said table were some envelopes and a copy of “Better Homes and Gardens”

Huh, he didn’t peg them as a reader of those types of magazines. Then again, Clover was the one that knew Nell, not him.

They came back with two mugs - one was purple with the “Snatcher” face on it, and the other had a little grumpy ghost on it, with “I’m spooky before my coffee” written above the drawing.

They handed him the Snatcher mug

“Can I ask where you get all of this Snatcher merch?”

“My best friend is an Etsy fiend. Despite him living all the way in Nyakoto, he ships me Snatcher merch whenever he finds something fun. He’s a real character” they chuckled.

“Huh” MJ acknowledged as Nell walked around the coffee table and sat next to him

“Do you feel the mask?”

He nodded, his hand up at the edge, right where he felt it “When I pull, it just… doesn’t move”

“Hm..” they sipped. “When you try to take it off, how does it feel?”

“Like… it’s like a thousand little… things? Pulling at my face, I think?” MJ pulled up their mug and sipped the tea.

“Like… string? Thread?”

MJ nodded. “I think that's the right word, thread”

Nell puts down the mug as MJ takes another sip. “Let me see” they scooted closer to him, and he put his mug down and turned his head.

Their hands seemed to glow green as they raised it “There we go…” They muttered, hand immediately finding the mask’s edge, and seeing what he was talking about “... Huh, the threads… well, that's the right word. They’re… criss-crossed…”

Before he could ask if they could remove them, he felt a slight burning at the edge of his face and jumped

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry, but, that did work… Though, it means you might be here a while” they admit “I’ll need you to stay still, okay?”

“Oh.. okay”

It was... Not Okay.

A few minutes into Nell’s attempt at getting the mask off, they let out a huff.

“You can’t keep squirming”

“I- I’m sorry” He muttered “It's just, you know, hard to stay still”

“I understand that, but I don’t want to mess this up. I’d like to see your actual eyes” They muttered.

“I know, it just.. Weird feeling” He tried to explain.

“Moon” They pressed, but sighed “... You seem still enough when I’m talking to you, need a distraction?”

“I mean, I guess…?”

Nell sighed “Hm… How about I tell you how I came to live in Subcon? That’s a long-ass story”

“Oh uh, if you’re okay with sharing!” MJ tried to be polite. He knew that even Clover wasn’t completely sure why Nell came to live in the town, she just knew that “something happened” back at the coast where they were from.

“Nah. It’s been 5 years. That’s more than long enough” The nurse stayed focused on the magic threads, their magic seeming to thrum in his ears- sounding almost like the hum of a fan in the dead heat of summer..

There was a pause, before they took in a breath.

“When I was 19, I took a job in Nyakoto, and left my hometown as fast as the train could take me. I had a scholarship to a little nursing school there, and before my 21st birthday, I’d gotten a nice, decent paying job as an ER nurse for a hospital in the East Side” They started “The hospitals were all interconnected, so I ended up meeting different doctors and nurses while I worked, and sometimes was called to assist in other hospitals.

“I was.. 25, when I met him” They recalled, something in their voice seeming heavy. “We’ll call him Chris

“He was in residency at a hospital down in the Wesservale neighborhood. We met at a medical appreciation gala… He had something about him I couldn't place. . . A charisma, almost. A kindness. He seemed so eager for the future, so excited for what the next day might bring him. I’d never been like that. His optimism drew me in.

“We started dating the year after. Like with most relationships, everything seemed great. He was funny, kind, thoughtful, all of that stuff. He even went with me to pride stuff, which was pretty cool at the time.”

“Pride?” MJ chimed in. Nell couldn’t hide a chuckle.

“Yes. You’ve heard of the Nyakoto Annual Pride Bonanza, haven’t you? One of the biggest in the country”

“I have, yes”

“Good. Back to the story” Nell redirected “When I was 27, about a year and a half into the relationship, I realized, quite unhappily, that we weren’t actually very different, and didn’t really get along as well as we thought.. It's not that we argued, but.. We didn’t really… talk. I never spoke to him about my problems, I didn’t feel like I could, and that really made me realize that we weren’t actually all that comfortable around each other. So, when he came over to my place that night for dinner, I spoke to him, and tried to tell him that we weren’t compatible, and that I thought perhaps we’d be better off as friends.

“He convinced me that we just needed work, going on and on about all these plans he had for us. Trips, dates, things to look forward to, always looking toward the future, Chris did”

Nell paused again

“.. I really should have noticed how little he cared about happiness in the present.” They commented “Not a traditional red flag, but it was a warning nonetheless”

“Well, I mean, that’s not so bad”

“In a way, no” Nell replied “But when you think about the future so much, you forget the present, you forget to live, and your past just.. Ends up a horrible haze. Even the happy stuff is hard to recall”

MJ hadn’t thought of it like that

“But hindsight is 2020, and in the moment, I believed him. I wanted to believe those bright dreams of the future, and I let go of the fact that I did not even like to talk to him very much.

“... I tried to break up with him 4 more times in the 8 years we were together.”

Okay, MJ hadn’t been expecting that much time passing.

“By the time I was 34, we were living together, but barely seeing each other. From the outside it must have seemed perfect to everyone else. I think only Daph knew about my.. Issues, with Chris. I still never talked to him about anything that wasn’t the future, or how the day was, or.. Just, absolute nonsense.

“One night, after one more attempt to break up, I’d gone to bed defeated, and woke up at 3 in the morning while he was on the night shift in Wesservale.. I came to this… realization

“If I didn’t leave right then and there, I’d marry him…. and I’d …. I’d be stuck. He’d have me, and I’d be stuck for the rest of my life..

“So I grabbed everything I had in the apartment, sent a resignation email to the East side hospital I still worked at, left him a note telling him I was leaving, took my car and just… started driving”

“.. Did he call you?”

“I blocked his number.” They answered curtly. “Drove for days until I came across Subcon.”

MJ didn’t comment.

“I stayed at the Alpine Motel for a few nights, and when I was at the diner, overheard that there was an open position for the school nurse at the elementary” They continued. “I applied for it, and 3 months later cashed in my savings to put a down payment on this little place” They made a motion with their hand briefly “The rest is history”

“Well… If it's any consolation, I think that's a good reason to get out of the city”

Nell couldn’t hold back a laugh. There was something a little… sad, in it, but the laugh was genuine.

“Yeah, then again, every reason is a good one to get out of the city” They commented, and MJ had only just realized that their hands were now on the other side of his face. Nell worked quickly, it seemed. “Hm.. okay. On the count of three, I'm going to try to take it off, alright?”

“Oh, uh, wow, okay!” He replied eagerly, closing his eyes.

“One…” They slowly started, both hands on either side, their nails right at the edge of the mask.

“Three!”

MJ startled as Nell pulled, and a cold, sharp feeling spread over his body before it abruptly ended. When he opened his eyes. He looked at Nell, who had, in their hands, that damned mask.

His hands went up to his face, and he let out a relieved laugh as he felt his skin, glasses and hair “hah! Hahah! I’m human again! No more magic!” He raised his hands and leaned back on the couch “Sweet relief”

Nell let out a chuckle, putting the mask down gently “Finish your tea, I’m gonna grab you a damp towel. You have… paint? On your face”

His brow was furrowed, but he reached for the still-warm mug anyway as Nell got up and went down a short hallway.

He took the few moments that Nell was done to think over the story he’d been told, the exhaustion in the nurse’s voice as she told it. Was he really the first one to learn? It gave him a weird feeling right in his chest.

When Nell returned, she offered a small, damp towel… that had the “Snatcher” smile on it

“... How many of these do you have?” He almost laughed again, and they just answered with an amused smile and grabbed their own coffee cup.

MJ cleaned his face, seeing a candy-red color coming off on the purple towel. “Hm..”

“What?”

“Well uh, the color looks like the magic strings I was able to summon”

Nell Blinked “... Well uh, bring that up with Tim when he’s back in town. That’s a little out of my wheelhouse”

“Noted”

The two fell into silence, sipping their warm drinks and giving them some time to unwind

“Will you need a ride home?” they asked him, putting their mug down.

He hadn’t actually thought of that.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine”

They raised an eyebrow at him

“You live 20 minutes away and Luka isn’t here to … fly you home, per se” They laid out “I’ve got a car, I’ll drive you home”

He turned a little red to the ears “Oh.. Thank you”

“No problem, Moon” They smiled back at him. “I’m going to change real quick, then we’ll leave”

And with that, they left back into the short hallway, to what Moon assumed was their bedroom.

Nell returned a few minutes later, dressed in a loose blouse and skirt that went down to their ankles, a far cry from the tank top and sweatpants that he’d seen them in before. He supposed that it was more so not wanting to go out in Pajamas than anything else. She picked up the mask, wrapping it in a handkerchief before holding it out to him

“It’s chosen you. You have to keep it”

He just nodded, and gingerly took the troublesome thing into his hands.

The two got in their truck (Nell owned a truck??) and drove into town.

MJ took in a breath as they turned onto a main street, passing The Horizon. “So uh, Nell..”

“Hm?”

“About your uh, the story you told me.. I won’t tell anyone”

“I don’t mind if you do” they answered, eyes on the road

“What, really?”

“Like I said before. Five years feels long enough”

MJ’s brow furrowed “I’m still not going to say anything.. That’s a personal story. It’s not mine to tell”

Nell glanced over at him with an unreadable expression, before moving to turn on the radio. Lo-fi started, and it seemed they were right in the middle of a Billie Eilish song.

“.. Thank you” They ended up responding as the song picked up

”I know supposedly I'm lonely now.

Know I’m supposed to be unhappy without someone.

But aren’t I someone?”

MJ didn’t say much of anything else once until they got to his apartment building

“Thank you, Nell. For everything”

“Don’t mention it” They gave him a small, but sincere smile “Get some rest, hm? The bags under your eyes are aging you”

MJ just laughed “I will. Don’t be a stranger, Mx. Buonacci”

The nurse gave him a lazy salute with a soft smile, before the window rolled up, and they drove off

Exhaling, he looked down at the covered mask, wrapped in a…. Snatcher-patterned handkerchief.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

#ahit #ahit coffee shop au #coffee shop au #moonjumper #ahit moonjumper #ahit oc #nell #ahit nell #backstory #antonia writes #this was fun

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

it’s always been you : i.f

brief summary: ilya has always known that david is a womaniser, and he’s just in the background, a second choice. but when you turn up and capture the pairs attention, will it be the same case?

word count: 1.6k requested: yes by an anon! i hope you love it warnings: nope, it’s fluffy and all cuteness up in here

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

m y e t s y s h o p

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“No, I’m serious dude, she’d go for you easily.” Ilya laughs into the microphone whilst David shakes his head in disbelief. “She would trust me. You’re so good and smooth-talking with girls and I’m just well,” Ilya trails off as Jason interrupts, mentioning the last time David flirted with a girl.

“I doubt that, Ilya. But if it ever happens, I guess we’ll find out.” David jokes, unaware of how soon that would end up happening.

Sitting across from the pair, you were deep in thought as your laptop remained on your lap, oblivious to the glances from David and Ilya.

Natalie beside you rolled her eyes, picking up on the looks. “She’s into you, dude.” Ilya mutters to David, nodding as David simply raises a brow. “It’s obvious, really.” He quickly adds, trying to hide the feeling of his heart sinking as he forces a smile, noticing a genuine one forming on David’s face.

“I don’t know, Ilya.” David remarks as he glances up, seeing you lifting your gaze up at the same time. “She’s just a friend, that’s all.”

Ilya shakes his head, knowing that is far from the truth based on what happened the night before.

“I’m serious, Dave, get off me!” You giggle as David continues to tickle you, your laughter echoing throughout the house as Ilya walks in with the pizza’s David ordered.

As he places the pizza’s on the counter, his smile begins to drop as he finds you in David’s arms, your face flushed as tears fall from your eyes. “You’re not getting outta this that easy.” David laughs.

“I got pizza.” Ilya speaks up, and immediately you fall from the sofa, landing on the rug with a soft thud.

Quickly, rising to your feet you clear your throat. “About time, I’m starving!” You avert your gaze from Ilya as you walk over to the pizza boxes, leaving Ilya oblivious to the fact you’re trying to calm your heart rate.

“What about that guy, he’s kinda cute?” Natalie nudges you as she hands you her phone, catching the attention of both boys as you shuffle in your seat.

Humming to yourself, you pass Natalie her phone back. “He’s not my type,” You say with a shrug. “I prefer brunettes.”

“Of course I had to go bleach my hair.” Ilya mutters under his breath whilst David smirks to Natalie, wondering if his thoughts could be accurate.

“Well, most of the time at least.” You quickly add before moving your laptop from your lap and heading to the bathroom, hiding your hands in the sleeves of your hoodie to stop them from visibly shaking.

Once out of sight and earshot, Natalie groans loudly. “Guys, can you give her a break, seriously.” Natalie points to the pair, Ilya holding his hands up in defence whilst David merely chuckles to himself.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Nat.” David excuses it as he looks down to his phone and answers a phone call. “What’s up, Zane?” David asks, walking out and into his bedroom, the door closing behind him.

Yet, despite it being just Natalie and Ilya, the matter isn’t being that dropped that easily. “Like David said, Nat, just a bit of fun.” Ilya comments half heartedly.

“I don’t think so,” Natalie sings playfully as she nudges herself to the edge of the sofa, resting her hands on her lap. “just, talk to her, yeah?” Natalie adds just before you walk back into the room, running your fingers through your hair as you glance over at David’s absent spot.

“Is it just me or is it freezing in here?” You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself as Natalie shakes her head whilst Ilya remains quiet.

Looking at the absent spot beside Ilya, a light bulb flashes above Natalie’s head. “Why don’t you take David’s spot? He’ll be gone for hours now that Zane’s on the phone.” Natalie suggests to you whilst Ilya’s eyes widen.

Turning around, you smile shyly to Ilya. “Is that okay with you, Ilya? I don’t wanna invade your personal space.” You chuckle.

“Oh no, not at all.” Ilya rambles, moving David’s things aside as he pats the spot beside him. “I’m hot, I mean, I’m warm so hopefully you’ll get hotter, I mean,” Sighing to himself, Ilya stops as he closes his eyes, listening to your quiet laughter as the sofa dips.

“Thanks, Ils.” You mutter as you curl up beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as your eyes start to droop whilst you scroll through your phone.

A few hours pass by, and you’re fast asleep with Ilya on the sofa. It started off with a quick power nap, but when Ilya lifted his arm up and you moved to rest your head on his chest, he was a goner.

“You won’t believe what Zane’s done now-” David cuts himself off as he walks into the living room, Natalie shushing him as she motions to you and Ilya on the sofa.

David pauses, looking down as your face is buried in Ilya’s chest whilst his arms are wrapped around you securely, your legs tangled together.

“Oh,” David smiles at the sight, quickly taking his phone and recording you both.

Moving aside, something changes in David’s thoughts as Natalie follows him into the kitchen. “How cute do they look,” Natalie sighs happily, but David remains silent. “wait, are you okay?”

Resting her hand on David’s arm, Natalie can see a look of sadness in his gaze.

“Yeah,” Snapping out of his thoughts, David forces a smile. “I just, I didn’t think about it until now really,” David mumbles as Natalie quirks a brow. “how, how good they look together that is.” David adds. “And I think I’m being selfish, trying to take that away from him.” David adds. “And I think I’m being selfish, trying to take that away from him.”

“There’s someone out there for you, Dave.” Natalie quietly states. “But I’m proud of you for admitting that, they just have to tell each other now.” Natalie huffs, knowing it’ll be a while before she hears either of you admit how you feel.

“Wanna make a bet?” David smirks and Natalie rolls her eyes. “$100 says Y/n will admit before the end of the week.”

Natalie scoffs before holding her hand out as David shakes it. “We’ll see about that.”

* It was almost the end of the week, and neither you nor Ilya had mentioned what happened the other night.

Sitting in the garden, you were busy reading through a contract that you were emailed by your manager when Ilya wandered out.

“Oh, hey Y/n.” Ilya waves, but you remain quiet for a moment until you look over your contract, seeing the blonde standing before you.

Fumbling with the contract, you rest it by your side and sit upright. “Ilya, hey, sorry I was lost in my own thoughts there.” You admit, tucking your hair behind your ears as you smile up to him.

“That’s alright,” Ilya mutters as he sits down beside you. “I haven’t seen you much this week, guess you’ve been occupied with the sponsorship you’ve been working on?”

You nod in response. “Yeah, I mean I love it and I’m so grateful, but it’s kept me busy and as a result unable to spend time with you.” You pause, realising what you just said aloud. “And everyone that is.” You add, a nervous chortle leaving your lips whilst Ilya is unable to process what you just admitted.

“They’re hopeless.” David sighs as he leans back in from spying on you both. “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

Natalie tuts. “It’s Y/n and Ilya, what did you expect? They’re so alike it hurts.” She remarks. “Just give them time, and then I’ll be $100 richer.” Natalie says smugly before turning on her heels, heading back to her room.

“I’m sorry,” You eventually break the silence, turning to face Ilya as your knee brushes against his. “I, I’m not really good at talking about feelings and shit, but I think, no I know I have to say this.”

“Okay, I mean, only if you want to.” Ilya comments, reaching out as he rests his hand on your knee, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

“I like you, Ilya.” You admit, focusing on his eyes as they widen, and then a small laugh leaves his lips, causing your heart to simultaneously break.

“Wait, no I didn’t mean it like that!” He quickly reassures you. “I just, are you sure?”

Slightly stunned, you nod slowly. “Yeah, but if you don’t feel the same that’s totally fine!” You tell him, but Ilya shakes his head, his hand tightening on your knee for a moment.

“No I, I do. I’m just, just surprised.” He half laughs. “I always thought you liked David.” He admits and listens as you laugh lightly.

“Wait seriously?” You ask, slightly dumbfounded as Ilya nods.

“I just thought, I mean, why wouldn’t you?” Ilya questions, looking up to you as your eyes remain locked on his and a smile crosses your lips.

“Ilya, I like you, it’s always been you, you dummy.” You chuckle, shuffling closer as your hand rests on his. “That okay?” You mutter as his face edges towards yours.

His lips brush against yours as he breathes out a yes before kissing you softly.

“And with that, you owe me $100.” David laughs to Natalie who groans before taking out the cash and passing it to David.

“I hope you’re happy.” Natalie comments, looking back at you and Ilya in each other’s embrace.

“Couldn’t be happier.” David mutters as he counts out his cash, glad to have won the bet and have his best friend get the girl.

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p-artsypants · 3 years

Text

I’ll Handle This (12)

In Which Lila Learns about Skyrim

Ao3 | FF.net

Sorry for taking a bit with this chapter. It isn’t even very long. But I was in the hospital recovering from surgery. We’re coming up close to the end of the story, but there’s maybe two more chapters after this.

(Psst this chapter has hints to the next story I’ll publish after this one...as long as my ideas don’t change lol)

Lila was fired. It was immediate when they found out. Everyone sat in class, the lecture normal and lulling everyone into a soft state of sedation.

Then Lila screamed. The scream was the worst thing Marinette had ever heard. Immediately, everyone turned to look at her in horror.

She started bawling. Huge gasping sobs of someone who’d been shot.

“Lila?!” Miss Bustier gasped in shock and concern. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Bustier!” She wailed. “I just wanted to peek at my email and—and—Mr. Agreste fired me!”

Plagg had to bite his tongue. He knew she was going to twist this somehow, but her sobbing was so beautiful to see.

“Oh Lila, I’m so sorry. It hurts a lot to lose a job. Especially when they don’t tell you to your face. That’s no fair.”

“He-he-he said that Marinette told him that I was making Adrien uncomfortable! She got me fired!”

Gasps, all around.

“What?!” Barked Marinette. “I had nothing to do with this!” Not exactly the truth...

“But that’s what Mr. Agreste said!”

Plagg stood, placing his foot on the seat, the spurs on his cowboy boots ringing with the motion. He put his cowboy hat back on (since Mrs. Bustier had asked him to remove it for violating dress code...again.) “well now. Sounds like we got ourselves in a gosh darn pickle.”

Nino snorted.

“Adrien! You never said I made you uncomfortable! Marinette must have lied to your father!”

He flicked the rim of his hat. “Now slow your roll there, Buckeroo. I know my old man, and even if Marinette was mentioned in his email, it’s likely that he just wanted to place the blame on someone else.”

Yes, throw the old man under the bus. He still deserves it, even with whole hearted apologies.

“But you know, I do feel awfully bad for you, Lila. Losing yer job and all. How’s about I make it up to ya? I’ll come sit by you for a while. Keep ya company and cheer you up. Cain’t have gettin’ all akumatized up in here, you reckon?”

Not that Lila getting akumatized was even a concern anymore. But the world wouldn’t know about Hawkmoth’s surrender until Emilie’s fate was resolved. Adrien’s family deserved that much at least.

“Oh Adrien!” Lila cried. “You really are such a wonderful friend. But I couldn’t bear to make you move on my behalf. You need to focus on your work.”

“A cowboy needs to be exceptional at multitasking. That is, as long as Mrs. Brassiere is okay with it.”

Miss Bustier pinched the bridge of her nose. Usually, she was a very calm and level-headed teacher, compassionate and understanding. But Adrien’s antics were stressing her out massively. “Yes, Adrien, I suppose it’s fine if you move to—what did you call me?”

“Much obliged, Madam. If’en you’ll excuse me...”

Marinette watched with fascination as Plagg gathered up his materials and moved to the back of the class to sit next to Lila. Then she glanced in her purse, where Tikki and Adrien were hanging out. They both shrugged.

Due to the retirement of Hawkmoth, Adrien was now allowed to spend time away from the Miraculous without consequence. Plagg assured him that once the final condition was met, no matter where he was, his soul would return to his body.

So he spent the school day with Tikki, and the evenings with Marinette. It was a sweet deal, and it really gave Adrien the time to bond with her without school or akumas in the way.

He had even spent the night with her the night before, curled up next to her on her pillow, and purring every time Marinette’s hand glanced his fur.

Nino leaned back in his seat. “Do you know what he’s up to this time?”

“No idea...but I am eager to see where this goes.”

Nino shook his head with a shrug. Two nights ago, when Plagg was arrested, Nino gathered all the money in his savings and went down to the jail to bail him out.

Only to find out he was already let go.

So he went back home, and called Adrien’s phone relentlessly, hoping for an answer.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Chat Noir returned and explained that he was going home now, thanks for having him, he had to watch the mansion because his sort of repentant father was going to Tibet to resurrect his dead wife.

Nino gave up on logic and understanding, and just made sure Plagg had everything he had brought.

Now he would wait until the whole situation blew over, and hopefully Adrien himself, in his own body, would explain it all to him. Plagg seemed to oversimplify everything to the point it became vague.

Marinette, on the other hand, was very curious to see where this was all going. After all, Adrien’s previous tactic of being nice to Lila hadn’t worked. So what was Plagg hoping to gain from the same approach?

Wrassle her with his randomly appointed cowboy charm?

In science, two classes later, Plagg had elected to sit next to Lila still, despite her protests.

Marinette was close enough now to hear what Plagg’s master plan was.

“So there’s like several types of Mer, right? But not like mermaids. This has nothing to do with mermaids. These are mostly elves, but not all. So there’s Dunmer, right? Those are dark elves. And Bosmer, wood elves, and Altmer, high elves. The Falmer are snow elves, but they’re all twisted and savage, because of the Dwemer, which are dwarves!”

Marinette snorted a bit too loudly, drawing attention from the teacher.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, is something funny?”

“No ma’am, I had a tickle in my sinuses.”

“Ah, I see. Anyways, as I was saying...”

Lila always sat in the back of the class, despite her many alleged disabilities. This was probably to get away with the fact that she rarely paid attention during class.

It was the ideal place for Plagg to harass her and not get caught.

Poetry in motion.

“So you get to pick what race you want to be, but you’re always the Dragonborn. Despite the description, you don’t look any different. So a Dragonborn is someone that can devour the souls of dragons so they don’t get resurrected by Alduin. Let me back up, Alduin is an evil dragon that used to rule the world, and he’s resurrecting dragons so he can take over. There’s another dragon though, named Paarthanax, and he’s a good guy. He helps out the Tongues on the Throat of the World. Or the greybeards. Some call them Tongues, but in the game they’re called Graybeards. And the tongues are the monks that teach you to shout. And different shouts teach you different things, right? The dragonborn and the tongues are the only ones that are supposed to know how to shout, but there’s this other dude named Ulfric Stormcloak, and he knows Unrelenting Force, that’s the Fus Ro Da shout I was talking about earlier? He used it to kill high king Torygg to start a war. Oh yeah, so there’s nine holds with Jarls, right—“

The day ended, and Lila stood quickly. “Well Adrien, thank you so much for keeping me company today. I’m feeling a lot better. You can move back up to your old spot tomorrow.”

“Well, you shore are welcome, Pardner. But sittin here in the back has been mighty nice. I think I’ll stay! You don’t mind, do ya? It’s awfully fun to have you as company!”

Lila’s eye twitched, but she was aware that most of the class was watching them. “Yeah. That’d be...great.”

“Darn tootin’! Well, you look like you’re in a rush, don’t want to hold you up!”

“See you tomorrow!” She chirped, before hurrying from the room. As she passed Marinette, a dark look came over her face. The look of someone seething with rage and hatred, but trying to hide it.

Marinette would have been scared, if Lila hadn’t been dealing with Plagg instead.

Marinette went home, Tikki and Adrien talking to her from her collar.

“I don’t know. Plagg was successful with the first two tasks, but I don’t know how he’s going to turn Lila over to the good side.” Marinette mused.

“I don’t know if he has to. The condition is to just get her to leave me alone. He said he was doing some Pavlovian Jedi mind trick on her.”

“Well, I sure hope it works. Speaking of, where is Plagg?”

Adrien’s ears flicked. “He left pretty suddenly after class. I didn’t see him go. Hopefully, he went back to the mansion.”

“Do you want me to call him?”

“No, I trust him. He’s got things under control.”

“Glad to hear it! Ready for snack time?”

“Oh heck yes!”

—

Lila had to actively stop herself from stomping all the way home. Frustration rolled off of her in waves, and she mildly wondered why she hadn’t been akumatized yet.

Adrien Agreste was the most annoying person she had ever met. And oblivious too! He never picked up on any of her subtle hints to get him to shut up! She really didn’t want to be rude, because his friendship looked great on her, but wow. No wonder he didn’t have any friends. No wonder Gabriel was so protective of him. If he wasn’t cute...his personality was like a wet sock.

And he was weird. Weird mannerisms, weird speech pattern, just weird. Hopefully she could either get used to it, or Adrien would get a clue to stop being so obnoxious.

Finally, she reached her apartment.

“Home mom!” She called.

There was laughter in the kitchen. Her mother had a guest. While not uncommon, there was just a hint of dread that hung in the air.

Lila walked to the kitchen, only to see Adrien sitting at the table, talking to her mother! How?! How did he beat her here?! How did he know where she lived?! What the hell was he doing?!

“Adrien?” Lila gawked.

He rubbed his head awkwardly. “Sorry for popping in uninvited. I just...I was worried about you! You’ve been akumatized twice, and I didn’t want it to happen again since you were fired.”

Lila’s face paled as her mother gave her a stern look.

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Missy. I didn’t know you were modeling. And you never told me about being akumatized!”

Adrien gasped. “Oh no! She didn’t tell you? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that was a secret! I won’t say anymore!”

“Any more?” Mrs. Rossi asked. “There’s more?”

“Adrien.” Lila bit, in warning.

“Well...I mean, you knew she was meeting with my father right? Something about being his muse?”

Mrs. Rossi looked horrified. “What! You were talking to a grown adult man?! Were these visits supervised?!”

Lila opened her mouth to answer, but Plagg beat her to it. “I don’t think so. Father is a very private person.”

“Lila Giselle Rossi! You are sooo grounded! No offense to your father, Adrien, but meeting up with an adult man, unsupervised? And to what, be his muse? What does that even mean? It sounds gross!”

“I swear nothing happened! He just wanted my opinion-”

“On what? What reason would he have to ask a 14 year old’s opinion?”

Plagg winced and looked at Lila. “I’m so sorry, Lila. I came here to help, but...”

Lila shook with rage. Her mother was a complete pushover and believed everything she said. Now Adrien had sewn the seeds of distrust in her and she wouldn’t get away with any white lies ever again.

“You’re dead,” She mouthed at Plagg.

“Adrien, thank you for coming here and telling me all of this. I’m very grateful. But I think it’s best if you head home now. Lila has some chores to do.”

“I understand, Madam Rossi. Again, I’m really sorry...I just wanted to help.”

“Oh don’t worry, you did. This is for Lila’s own good.”

He sheepishly looked to her. “See you tomorrow?”

Her eye twitched. “Yeah.”

And Plagg swiftly walked from the apartment, concealing his evil laughter until he got to the door.

—

The next day at school, Marinette, along with Tikki and Adrien in her bag, arrived at school just a few minutes before the bell rang.

Plagg was sitting at the front of the room, wearing a Pikachu onesie, and looking absolutely devastated. Nino sat next to him and had a hand over his face, doing his best to conceal whatever emotion he had.

Everyone else in the room was avoiding them like they had the plague.

Alya spotted her and came quickly, looping an arm through hers and escorting them out into the hall. “Girl, big news. I know you love Adrien, so this is going to be a blow. But here’s the thing...Lila told us this morning that Adrien came to her house yesterday and told her mom about her modeling job. Apparently, her mom didn’t want her working, and got upset that Lila lied. Adrien’s been insisting that it wasn’t on purpose, but everyone is kind of pissed at him anyway.”

Marinette said nothing, but bit her lip. She knew that this absolutely was on purpose.

“I’ll leave your actions up to you, but people are pretty mad at Adrien. Just letting you know.”

“Who’s side are you taking?”

Alya scoffed. “None. I’m staying out of this. Both people are in the right. Obviously Sunshine just wanted to prevent her from being akumatized. He was with her all day yesterday. It’s admirable, really.”

“It is.” Marinette said with a smile. Though she was smiling for a completely different reason. There were no akumatizations anymore. Everyone was safe now.

“We better get back in there, class will start soon.”

So they returned. Miss Bustier was in, and ready to begin the lesson.

Then Plagg raised his hand.

“Yes Adrien?”

“Before we start class, I want to say something.”

“Go ahead, Adrien. The floor is yours.”

He stood, and looked to Lila in the back of the room. “Lila, I know I apologized yesterday, but I’m really really sorry about outing you to your mom. I had no idea she didn’t know about your rendezvous with my father. I was just really scared that you were going to become akumatized, and I didn’t want that to happen. My friends are all important to me, and losing you would be like ripping out a piece of my heart. Could you ever forgive me?”

Marinette glanced Nino’s face, which twitched to hide a smile. Then she looked at Lila, who looked calm, but her hands were balled into fists.

After many breathless minutes, Lila smiled slightly. “I understand, Adrien. Of course you’re still my friend. I treasure you too! I’m sorry I got so mad.”

“Hugs?” Plagg raised his arms.

Lila could pretend to be happy and calm, but the paling of her skin could not be hidden. “Hugs!”

Plagg brought her in for a squeeze, and the class ‘aww’ed at their make up.

Except Nino, who let out the tiniest snort.

Marinette flicked open her purse to look at Adrien. He mimed a gagging gesture back.

And then Plagg took those last couple steps and joined Lila on her bench. No one tried to stop him. No one spoke up and said, “hey, maybe you should give her some space anyway.”

They just all let poor, socially awkward Adrien push boundaries and take his seat. Because he had apologized so earnestly for trying to help. And she had forgiven him. So everything was fine now.

Right?

As the lesson started, Marinette paid attention to the teacher. But occasionally, she’d hear the faintest whispers of Adrien’s voice (Plagg’s voice now).

“...so it’s commonly believed that the Nord’s came from Atmora with Ysgramor, but they believe that they settled Skyrim, so they’re kind of racist to everyone else. But also, the Empire came in out of nowhere and tried to upheave their way of life, and even told them which Gods they were allowed to worship. High King Torygg was playing cordial with the Aldmeri Dominion, and some of the other Jarl’s didn’t like that. So Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Whiterun shouted him to death. Just like the Dragonborn can. Though it’s never explained why he knows how to do this. So this started a whole civil war…”

Marinette chanced a glance behind her, and noticed that Lila had her head in her hands, and she looked absolutely miserable.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #adrienette #adrien and plagg #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #identity reveal #chat noir #ladybug #fanfiction #I'll Handle This

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noona-clock · 3 years

Text

The Dog Walker - Part 3

Genre: Dog Walker!AU

Pairing: Hanbin x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,558

Despite the fact you had tried to convince yourself that everything had been a dream, you had still woken up this morning with Hanbin on your mind.

After all, if the squirrel fiasco and the ointment and the bandage and the subtle flirting had all been a dream, how did you know his name was Hanbin? If it had all been made up inside your mind, you would still be calling him Cute Dog Walker Guy.

See? Couldn’t really argue with that logic, could you?

So, as soon as you woke up, you sprang out of bed, changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that were basically appropriate for wear in the outside world, and rushed to the grocery store before you had to turn your computer on for work.

About twenty minutes later, you arrived back to your townhouse almost completely breathless but with a box of dog treats and some bottles of water in tow. And also some cookies. You, obviously, had no idea if Hanbin had a favorite type of cookie, so you’d gotten some reliable chocolate chip and hoped he didn’t have any food allergies.

As to be expected, taking an out-of-the-ordinary trip to the grocery store meant you now had pretty much no time at all to get ready for work, so you simply plopped down into your chair with a completely bare face, briskly brushed teeth and hair, and still in your lounge clothes.

At least today wasn’t a video call meeting day.

The first chance you got to leave your computer, though, you rushed upstairs to put yourself together a little more.

You weren’t planning on actually going outside and seeing Hanbin and Frankie and whichever other dog or dogs he may be walking today. You were just going to set a couple of dog treats, a water bottle, and a cookie on the bench right outside a little bit before his usual time (probably at the very end of your lunch break) and then watch from your window as you normally did.

But you still wanted to look better than you had at the grocery store.

Just in case.

You put on your nicest, best-fitting pair of jeans, traded your hoodie for a long-sleeved, flowy blouse, and put together the best face of makeup you could in about five minutes.

I mean, who knows? Maybe Hanbin would need your help with something again and you would have to rush out there to assist. And if that did happen, you certainly didn’t want to look like you had rushed out there, unprepared.

But you were still on the clock, so you had to settle for looking just a little bit prepared.

After working for a few more hours and shoving a sandwich in your face on your lunch break, you opened your pantry and began to put your little gift basket together.

Okay, you weren’t actually putting things in a basket, but you know what I mean.

You fished two dog treats out of the box, grabbed a water bottle, and placed two chocolate chip cookies on a napkin before heading out your front door and setting them carefully on the bench right on the edge of the sidewalk.

Hanbin was sure to see them there; he walked right by the bench every day, and you had placed them in a visible enough spot where it would be pretty laughable if he didn’t see them.

Plus, Frankie would be sure to smell the treats and lead his walker right to the treasure.

And you would be inside, watching through the blinds as you always did.

Okay, well, now that you said it like that, it did seem like you were a stalker.

But we all know that’s not true! You had absolutely zero creepy intentions, and after yesterday, Hanbin knew you existed! That counted for something, right?!

Just as you opened your front door to go back inside after leaving the goodies, your phone’s alarm went off letting you know your lunch break was over. And when you slid back into the chair at your computer desk to start working again, your heart did a little flip knowing that dog walking time was nigh.

Even though you’d never missed one day of watching Hanbin walk past your window on his dog walking route, you were afraid that it would happen today.

You were afraid that you’d get caught up in work, look at the clock on your computer, and suddenly realize Hanbin had walked by your townhouse over an hour ago.

Or even worse, five minutes ago.

So, of course, this irrational fear distracted you and kept you from focusing on what you actually needed to be doing -- working. You kept looking at the clock, checking the time and weather on your phone, getting up and walking over to the window in case he arrived early for some reason.

You barely got any work done in-between your lunch break and Hanbin’s walking time that you almost felt like you needed to send your manager an apology email.

You wouldn’t, obviously, because she hadn’t contacted you asking why you hadn’t gotten much work done in the past couple of hours. Why would you point it out if she hadn’t noticed?

But anyway. You felt like it. And you know what I mean.

Finally, after what seemed like months of anxiously waiting, the clock approached dog walking time, coming within minutes of it.

You locked your computer with a deep exhale, pushed your chair away from your desk, and silently crept over to your window.

With your thumb and index finger, you widened the space between two blinds and peeked out, just as you always did. And after about thirty seconds, you held your breath.

When you heard the very faint but familiar sound of jingling dog tags, a grin appeared on your lips. Your eyes darted to the corner.

Less than a minute later, there he was. Frankie (whom you still wished was named Teddy).

You bit your lip to try and suppress your eagerness and excitement, but the second you saw Hanbin appear out from the side of the building, you actually let out a soft squeal.

God, he was even cuter than you remembered!

Or maybe that was just because you’d seen him up close.

Your gaze was glued on him, walking just Frankie today, and your heart began to speed up as he approached the bench.

As you’d predicted, Frankie’s nose began to twitch, and his curly little tail began to wag wildly before he ran over to where you’d set down the treats.

Hanbin followed closely behind, and you could see when he realized what Frankie had led him to. His mouth split into a very wide, beaming grin, and he bent over to pick up one of the dog treats first.

Oh, of course. Hanbin was just that perfect, wasn’t he? Putting the dog before himself.

You watched with giddy delight as Hanbin made Frankie sit, lie down, and roll over before letting him have the treat. And as Hanbin leaned back over to pick up the water bottle, your delight transformed into frenzied excitement as you saw he was looking up at your townhouse.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting as he searched over your front door and windows. You, obviously, stepped back when his gaze swept over the window you were currently peeking through. Once you’d waited about ten breathless seconds, you looked back out to see him take the other dog treat and cookie, slip them into his pocket, and continue on down the sidewalk -- with an extremely attractive smile on his face.

You did the same thing the next day, and so did Hanbin. He gave Frankie one of the treats, briefly inspected the front of your townhouse (presumably to look for you), and then took the water bottle, the second treat, and the cookie before heading on down the sidewalk.

And it occurred again, in exactly the same way, the next day... and the day after...

Then, finally, on Saturday... you decided to open the blinds. Fully.

And, this time, when Hanbin looked up and narrowed his eyes to search for you, his head jerked a little in surprise when he saw you standing at the window with nothing blocking your view.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you lifted one hand to wave at him, a shy smile forming on your lips.

Hanbin waved back, returning your smile with one of his own before following the same routine: taking the water bottle and the second treat and the cookie, then heading down the sidewalk.

It happened exactly the same way on Sunday and Monday... and then Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday... and when Saturday came around again, you were fully prepared to continue on simply waving at him from the window.

But Hanbin, apparently, had other plans.

The two of you went through your usual routine, but today, after you waved at him and he waved back at you, he motioned for you to come outside rather than just taking the rest of the goodies and heading on his way.

Your eyes widened slightly, and your heart paused.

He... motioned for you to come outside?

While he was still there?

You hesitated for a few brief moments, but then you turned on your heel and scurried to your front door to fulfill his request.

As soon as you opened the door and stepped out into the chilled air, Hanbin repeated the motion, beckoning you to come join him at the bench.

You hugged yourself, a cautious smile on your lips as you approached him and Frankie.

“Hi,” you greeted, your voice just a bit shy and awkward.

“Hey,” Hanbin replied with a soft (but equally shy and awkward) chuckle. “I just, uh -- I just wanted to thank you. You don’t -- you don’t have to leave anything for me --”

“I want to,” you interrupted gently.

The color of Hanbin’s cheeks flushed to a pretty visible rosy pink, and the fact you had just made him blush sent your stomach into a somersaulting tizzy.

“Well,” he murmured bashfully. “If -- if you’re going to leave this for me, at least... at least come out and say ‘hi’? If you want to.”

“Really?” you gulped.

“I don’t usually see anyone I know while I’m working -- I mean, when I go on walks, at least. I know a lot of people at the shop, of course, but I’m the only one who walks the dogs, so --” Hanbin shook his head quickly, almost imperceptibly, and let out a short huff of breath before continuing. “It would just be nice to see a friendly face every day.”

Of course, your initial reaction to his statement was to jump up and down and squeal like you’d just won the Miss Universe pageant because oh my god, Hanbin considered you to be a friendly face!

But, since you were an adult, you managed to keep that reaction inside.

For now.

Somehow.

“I mean -- yeah,” you replied with a nod. “Yes, I can do that. Certainly.”

“It doesn’t have to be every day,” Hanbin hurried to assure you, his brow wrinkled adorably. “And you don’t have to leave anything for me every day, either, I just --”

Again, you interrupted him gently. “I work at home, so... I don’t really get a chance to see a friendly face all that often, either. As long as you don’t think I’m some creepy stalker, I’ll do it every day.”

Hanbin let out a delicate laugh, and he shook his head. “No, I definitely don’t think that. You live here.”

“I do,” you nodded. “You’re the one crossing over my property every day, so... if anything, you’re the creepy stalker.”

Which, of course, you knew was absolutely not true. Hanbin hadn’t had any idea you’d been watching him walk by for however long you’d been watching him walk by, so there was no way he’d even known you existed.

But Hanbin’s expression fell, his jaw dropping slightly. He held his free hand out, waving it a little and contested, “No, I promise, I’m not --”

Had you ever seen anyone so cute? The way he was protesting your accusation was just so earnest and adorable that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a breathy giggle.

“I’m joking!” you laughed.

Hanbin froze, his slightly horrified facial expression gradually changing to one of both relief and embarrassment.

“...Oh,” he murmured, shooting you an abashed look and silently asking for your forgiveness. “I -- I will just go now so I can crawl into a hole and --”

“At least take your cookie with you,” you urged with an amused grin, nodding toward it still on the bench. “So you don’t starve in that hole.”

Hanbin reached for it, avoiding eye contact with you, but you still heard his soft laugh.

“Oh!” you chirped. “Right! Do you have a favorite kind of cookie? I just got chocolate chip because I didn’t know, and I figured most people like chocolate chip -- or maybe you don’t like cookies that much? What’s your favorite snack? It can be anything --”

“No, no, I like chocolate chip. I like any type of cookie. I like everything, don’t worry about that,” he answered. “But you really don’t even have to get anything for me.”

“Well, if you ever have a request for something specific -- whatever you’re craving -- just let me know, and I’ll have it for you the next day,” you told him, ignoring the last thing he’d said. You knew this was your chance to actually get to know Hanbin, and you weren’t going to let it fall through the cracks. Not one little bit!

“Okay,” he chuckled with a slight roll of his eyes, clearly realizing that you weren’t going to give in on this one.

And now, you felt, was the perfect time to go back inside. If you stayed out any longer, things could potentially get very awkward as the opportunity for more small talk arose -- you knew that you were absolutely terrible at small talk, and it kind of seemed like Hanbin wasn’t great at it, either. Why risk it?

“I’ll let you get on with your walk,” you said, taking a step back. “I don’t want to keep you.”

“Yeah,” Hanbin murmured. And just before you turned around to face your front door, he added, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You smiled, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, tomorrow,” you answered. And then you shifted your gaze toward Frankie, lifting one hand to wave to him. “See you tomorrow, Frankie!”

“Say ‘bye,’ Frankie!” Hanbin said in a slightly higher pitched voice than his own -- obviously, his animal voice. And, oh my god, it was adorable.

He was adorable.

As you stepped back into your townhouse, you realized that -- so far -- Hanbin was everything you’d imagined him to be and more.

And now you were getting a chance to actually talk to him? Every single day?

Even though you would just be saying ‘hi,’ it was still a million times more than what you’d been doing the past several months!

Could things get any better?!

Part 4

#kwritersworldnet #hanbin scenarios #hanbin imagines #hanbin au #hanbin fluff #hanbin fanfic #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ikon au #ikon fluff #ikon fanfic #kim hanbin #ikon #b.i #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic

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carelessannie · 3 years

Text

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 2)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory WIP

Starker focus (Tony x Peter), Winteriron (Tony x Bucky), with reference to Stucky, Stony and Stuckony

This is the “meet... awkward” for my AU, and takes place roughly 8 months before the first chapter. Enjoy!

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, OmegaSub!Peter, BetaDom!Tony, OmegaSwitch!Bucky, AlphaDom!Steve, Heavy Awkward Flirting, Cute Nicknames, Kinda Sexy Winteriron

Maybe it goes like this:

8 Months Earlier

Peter is looking forward to seeing his Pack after class, definitely needing to cuddle up with Annie in their nest tonight. And maybe Clint will bring home pizza. It’s been a long-ass day.

Okay, definitely pizza.

From the front of the class, Peter can hear his professor introducing the guest lecturer, and he drags his backpack around to his seat to unlock his laptop and notebook. Just as he logs in and dates his notebook page, Peter looks up to see the most attractive man in New York walk through the door, smile to the class, and introduce himself.

Tony.

Tony Stark?

No Way. The Tony stark?

Peter's ears ring, and he swears he sinks three feet into the floor.

Mr. “just call me Tony” Stark is saying something about BioMolecular Engineering, about class credit, about new processes in the industry, about independent research opportunities, about the— wait.

Peter jerks in his seat, mouth ajar, as The Tony Stark lists benefits of working in his research lab for Stark Industries, a dream Peter has nursed since high school. He barely hears the rest of the presentation, focusing on closing his mouth and blinking, keeping hot Arousal out of his scent, adjusting himself in his pants—

“—and I’ll take questions up front if you have them, thanks."

There’s a round of lazy applause, as students start to pack up and file out, and Peter shakes himself, You have to talk to him. He scribbles a few questions on his notebook and throws everything into his backpack, floating across the classroom and to the back of the line.

When he finally steps up, both of them freeze. Peter restrains himself from scenting the older man right there in the classroom because hot damn .

Peter lets out a short gasp of “hellomynameisPeterParker,” thrusting his hand forward, and is pulled in for a firm handshake, Tony Stark looking into his eyes with a vaguely amused expression.

Peter lets go, reluctantly, and stutters out, “M-mr. Stark? I think I’d be interested in the semester research opportunity.”

“Of course, Peter Parker,” Tony turns and grabs a StarkPad, scrolling briefly before handing it over to Peter, “if you want to fill it out today, feel free. It’s an equal opportunity research grant, and provides a weekly stipend for the duration of the program.”

Mr. Stark continued with details, as Peter quickly puts his information in the application and presses “submit.” He peers up at the older man, Beta? Probably? Most of what he can scent is spice and fire– maybe cinnamon, or chai like Clint? It’s hard to tell without throwing his face into the man’s neck, and inhaling deep–

“Mr. Parker? Pete?”

Peter’s head shoots up, and he realizes he’s been still for too long without responding, and immediately goes to apologize, “Oh, I-i’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I just… I finished the application? Shouldn’t I submit– or, sorry– send in a resume? Sorry.”

Mr. Stark keeps his expression schooled, but Peter can tell that he’s holding back a smile. Dammit Parker, way to nail the first impression. He shifts on his feet, biting his lip as Mr. Stark shakes his head slowly.

“No, it’s okay Peter. Our admin team will review the first round of applications by department, and send out an email link for further information, alright?” he gives into his smile, reaching out as if to... what, comfort Peter? But aborts the motion and crosses his arms, flexing slightly under his navy suit.

“Do you have any other questions, Peter?”

“No, n-no not right now, sorry, thank you Mr. Stark, sir. Um. Okay? I’ll see you later?” and Peter beats a hasty retreat out of the classroom, feeling his scent shift Embarrassed and hot tears prick his eyes.

Why does he always give a terrible first impression?

—

Tony stands, shocked in the empty classroom, schooling his scent and his breathing.

Thank you Mr. Stark, sir.

He collects his things in a haze, heading back to his pack and thinking about the gorgeous omega who just called his name.

Damn. His Alpha and Omega are gonna want to hear about this.

2 Weeks Later

Tony is straightening up the last few items in the R&D lab, hearing Pepper’s complaints of You need to care about your work space, Tony and You need to prepare a safe space for interns to work, Tony. And Pepper is right, of course, so Tony keeps cleaning.

He hears the doors swish open, and sighs, schooling his expression to neutral. He whirls around, raising his hands to defend himself against what he assumes is a new portion of nagging from Pepper, and instead–

The pretty omega from NYU.

What? “What are you–” Tony starts, watching as– Parker? Pete, Peter?– clutches a bag close to his chest, large doe eyes widening in shock and fear and… yup, there it is, FearShockEmbarassed Omega scent floods the lab as Peter takes a step backwards, lips opening and closing in shock.

“Hey, are you–”

“I’m so sorry, I–”

Tony shakes his head, stepping a little closer, “No, it’s okay, Peter? Right? From NYU?” with a nod in confirmation, Tony barrels ahead, “I thought you were– no, it doesn’t matter. Are you, are you here for the internship?”

“Y-yes, I’m sorry, they said to come at noon, but I thought I’d get here early and, god I can’t believe it, I’m so sorry, I’ll just wait– uh, wait outside?” Peter stutters through the explanation, lowering his eyes and backing towards the door to retreat into the hallway.

“No, like I said Peter, it’s okay, honestly,” Tony looks around quickly, trying to find a seat for the started young man, and yanks out the stool to his workbench, “here, sit down, please?”

There’s a moment of stillness as Peter looks between the stool and Tony, muttering something under his breath and setting his jaw in determination. Damn this boy is adorable, and Tony forces himself to keep a neutral expression as the om– the intern – walks across the room and sets down his backpack. Tony turns to the other side of the desk to give Peter some space, and clears the last of the notebooks into a nearby drawer.

He wants to start a conversation with Peter, fingers twitching in the unbearable silence, but is saved by the lab doors opening again, revealing Pepper leading five lost looking interns into the room. She leads so gracefully, he thinks, and feels his scent turn Fond and Proud for the Beta. Pepper sits each intern down, greeting Peter as well, and before he knows it, orientation and introduction are underway. The interns have their own work benches, and Pepper lets another supervisor take over the first day paperwork.

While the interns work in silence, Tony refuses to fixate on Peter, even though he takes to the research environment so beautifully. He's smart, he makes the funniest sarcastic quips when he thinks no one is listening, and he's kind of quiet, but always speaks up when he has a strong opinion.

Tony keeps his interactions unbiased among the other interns, mostly betas and one alpha, and is so relieved when the day ends and the students finally shuffle out of the lab. Peter ends up last to leave, staring at Tony and nervously licking his lips as he shoulders his bag. He seems to hesitate.

“Yeah, what’s up Pete?”

“Oh… no, right, see you tomorrow?” Peter shifts back and forth on his feet.

Tony smiles, “Of course, early bird,” and honestly can’t help his eye twitching, helplessly, in a wink.

Peter stutters out some type of goodbye, and flutters back through the door.

Tony blows out a breath, “JARVIS, call Bucky.”

—

“So what you’re tellin’ me is, you’ve somehow managed to find a smokin’ hot–”

“Beautiful,” Tony interrupts, “and compatible–”

“Right, smokin’ hot, compatible omega, and you… hire him?”

“I mean, technically I didn’t hire him personally–”

“Tony–”

“No, you know what, I get it. It’s my fault I can’t have him. But Bucky, I swear he’s so damn smart, and I can’t even let myself hope about his orientation,”

Bucky groans audibly over the line, but Tony protests again, “–because I swear he would submit so beautifully, Bucky, I can just see it. And remember how I said he called me sir?”

“How could I forg–”

“It’s all I can think about. I don’t wanna be overbearing, but I’m completely helpless around him and have no idea what to do. Bucky, I winked at him. Winked. And he ran away so fast.”

He can hear Bucky laughing at him over the line, that idiot, and Tony drops his head in his hands.

“Want my advice, sweetheart?” Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “I think you should take it slow and court ‘im. Sounds like it could be awhile before you can make anything official, and what is he, like eighteen?”

“... Twenty.”

“Okay, twenty. He probably isn’t looking for a permanent pack anyways, alright? Get to know ‘im at work, and as soon as you can, you should also put a stop to him seeing you as his boss,”

“Wait, but–”

“No, Tony. As much as it feels great for this little omega to call you ‘Mr. Stark’ and ‘Sir,’ if you want anything more with this guy, you have to work to even out the relationship a bit.”

Tony slumps down into a seat, sighing dramatically. Bucky goes silent as Tony processes what he’s saying. A thought occurs to him,

“Wait, is that how Steve got you?”

Bucky snorts, “Yeah, you know our Alpha’s ‘bout as subtle as a dump truck. His advice is gonna be, ‘sit the omega down, state your intentions to court him, communicate clearly,’ all that shit,” another laugh, this time fonder, “I’m just sayin’ to save that for later, okay? Take it slow.”

Heading towards the door, Tony signals for JARVIS to move the conversation to his phone as he heads home. He pops in an earpiece for the call, and makes sure Bucky is still on the line.

“Yeah, I’ll take your advice Bucky-bear. Hey, are you home?” Tony taps his foot as the elevator descends to the parking garage, feeling a familiar itch starting under his skin.

“Yeah I am, Steve’s out until later... why, what’s up?”

He gets out of the elevator, heading for his car, “I think all this talk of the perfect omega has me missing you. Wanna do something soft and dirty when I get home?”

Bucky hums, the sound sweet and tempting, even over the phone line, “Whaddya have in mind, my Beta?”

“Oh you know I love when you call me that,” Tony peels out onto the main road, heading towards their coastal property, their home, “I want you to contact Steve and ask him to pick up dinner, your choice. I’ll tell him what my plan is for you tonight, so he won’t be surprised. I’ll be there in thirty-five minutes and want you in the red room, ready to play, understood?”

Tony can hear Bucky breathing quicker over the phone as he responds, “Yes, Beta.”

“My good omega. And for now, let’s not tell our Alpha about Peter. Not unless it gets serious, okay?”

“Mmm okay, Tony. Hurry home,” and Bucky ends the call.

Tony steps on it.

#starker #winteriron #stuckony #stony #stucky #tony x peter #bucky x tony #d/s fic #light d/s #meet awkward #getting together #fluff #MiGLT #omegaverse

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 17

A/N: This chapter is pretty fluffy. We get a glimpse at how they are moving forward in their relationship since their fight. I’m planning on uploading a part from Monty’s perspective about what he’s doing Friday after school tomorrow or sometime this weekend. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em

I spent the next week actively not checking my emails. I was too afraid to even consider if I would get emails about schools yet. It had only been a week. But you never know. In an attempt to keep my mind off of the fact that my entire future was now completely and totally out of my control, I tried to fill my time with normalcy. Things I normally did. Things that Monty and I normally did. That normalcy now included carving out an hour and a half for Monty’s physio three days a week, but we made it work.

I tried to get back into my routine. For the most part, I went to bed at the same time every night. Some days Monty went with me, other days he stayed up and did stuff for a while. But he came to bed every night. I went to the game Friday night. Scott and Charlie came over for brunch on Saturday. Justin came over to see his new best friend, I mean me, on Sunday because he picked up a shift Saturday morning. Monty and I did our own things together in the evenings during the week. I pretended to read while he played video games one night. Secretly, I was just watching him. For some reason watching people play video games was highly entertaining. We just did normal things.

We also went grocery shopping Saturday. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” I asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure Addison. Besides, we are over halfway to the store. It’s a little late to change my mind now.”

“Okay. Remember the list please.”

“I know. There’s a list and we get what’s on the list.”

“Exactly.”

At the store, I grabbed a cart and dug through my purse for the list and my pen. Monty took the cart from me without asking. I feigned an affronted look. He smirked back. Cocky bastard. I can already tell this is going to be so fun. I opened my mouth to speak when we got inside. “List, I know. And yes. I remember you’re going to make us get vegetables.”

“And you have to get at least one that you like.” He pouted. “You like carrots.” I offered.

“Fine.” He muttered. We are in a dramatic mood today. It was so peaceful when I went by myself. But I missed this. Monty went and put exactly five bulk carrots in a bag. Not wanting to fight him on carrots, I didn’t say anything. As usual, I was in charge of the rest of our vegetables.

The aisles were an easier task. There were no evil scary vegetable that I would have to force him to eat. I quickly scanned down the list as we entered each aisle. Carefully, everything was placed in the cart just so. “We need this.” Monty said, grabbing a box of cheese its.

“Is it on the list?” In response, he plucked the list and pen from my hand, and scribbled it on.

“It is now.” I rolled my eyes and grinned as he handed it back to me. His cheeky grin made me blush. I turned my back and pretended to look at something when we got to the fruit snack aisle and ignored the telltale thud of a box, make that two boxes, of fruit snacks being chucked in the cart. He didn’t write them on the list.

We both cringed at the price of meat, as usual. But we needed it so there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. I crossed things off that had been missed as we were filling the cart. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the store was out of anything. “Oh, we need butter.” I muttered.

“Is it on the list?” Monty smirked. Like he had done earlier with the crackers, I quickly wrote it down.

“Yes.” I grinned. He grinned and stopped to kiss me on the cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now let’s get this done so we can go home and do nothing.”

“Your wish is my command.” There was even a dramatic wave of his arm to accompany his attempt to woo.

“You are so fucking cheesy. I’m telling the guys about that one.”

“Ah, come on Addison. You love it.”

I went to grab a couple of pounds of butter and decided I could trust my adult husband to get some bread and jam on his own. When I found him in the bakery with our cart, I remembered that I married an overgrown child. There was bread. And there was jam. And also, cookies. Four different kinds of cookies. And a thing of strudel. Which, to be honest, I wasn’t that upset about because it’s like the best pastry. But the point is that it was there.

“I asked you to get bread and jam. Not half of the baked goods in the store.”

“But cookies are delicious Addison. And you like their chocolate chip cookies. And for some reason I still don’t understand, plain oatmeal cookies. Don’t even lie and say the strudel was a bad idea.”

“So, the sugar cookies and M&M ones are just to look pretty on the counter?”

“No. Those ones are for me.”

“I married a fuckin’ child.” I muttered softly. We turned when we heard a quiet chuckle behind us. A cute little old couple was watching our interaction with giant smiles.

“Mine still does the same thing dearie.” The woman said to me.

“Remember, we don’t grow up. We just get bigger.” The man smiled.

“I’m beginning to realize.” I laughed.

“See. I told you.” Monty smirked. As if to prove the point they were making, we watched as the man grabbed a container of lemon rolls and placed them in his cart. The woman gave him an exaggerated, exasperated look.

“Wait, how long have the two of you been married?” I asked when they passed us.

“Sixty-five years.” They said together, smiling fondly at each other. Wow. That’s amazing. I was still smiling when we got to the till and checked out.

Our normal routines continued for the rest of the week. School, physio, make dinner, sports, spend time together. The normalcy of it was refreshing.

“You’re scratching.” Monty said offhandedly, without looking up from his notes.

“Am not.”

“You stopped typing five minutes ago Addison.”

“I’m thinking.”

“And scratching.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond. I started typing aggressively loud to try and get a rise out of him instead. He didn’t respond at all. Not even an annoyed muscle twitch. We aren’t there yet. Okay. Monty’s phone buzzed on the coffee table beside me. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And then again. Before I could reach for it, he had hobble run over and snatched it out of my reach. I looked at him quizzically. He was trying to think of a reason to be hiding his phone from me. What is going on?

“It’s guy stuff. Jamie is having… girl troubles.”

“Girl troubles.”

“Yeah. His girlfriend but not girlfriend or something is doing stuff.”

“Something and stuff.”

“Yes. So, uh. I’ll be over… over there.” He motioned back to the kitchen table. “You know, dealing with girl troubles.”

“Right.” That was weird. Also, he’s going to pay for the movement in the morning. I went back to my writing and not scratching quietly. Occasionally I would look up over my laptop at Monty. He seemed to be very engrossed in his notes.

“Hey Addison?”

“Hmm?”

“Since the game got cancelled some of us are going over to Jamie’s place tomorrow after school.”

“’Kay.”

“Because girl troubles.”

“Yeah.”

“And stop scratching. You’ll only make the rash worse.”

The next morning, I skipped a shower. Cuddles were too enticing. It was a Friday so I didn’t feel like I had to look all cute. While Monty made himself a smoothie, I grabbed one of his shirts to wear because it was loose enough that it wouldn’t irritate the rash. It finally started to clear up. But now it itches. As though he could hear my thoughts, he called from the kitchen, “stop scratching.”

“Bite me.” I called back.

“If you don’t stop scratching, I will.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He looked up when he heard me come in the room.

“I was going to wear that today.”

“You have like… fifty more in your half of the closet.”

“I know mum is a history professor, but dad is a businessman. I know he taught you fractions. What I have is not half of the closet.” I merely shrugged. He waved towards the bowl beside the blender. “Chunky monkey with smooth peanut butter.” I sat and took a bite.

“Yum. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Don’t worry about washing the blender. I’ll do it after school.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

School was pretty boring. It was the middle of November, so we were in the awkward not quite midterms but not quite ready for a new unit time. I met Monty at my locker after the last bell. He was waiting for me with Justin and Jamie. “Hey baby.”

“Hey babe. You guys have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Jamie saluted. I shuddered. Monty tried to stifle a laugh.

“Jamie. Do me a favour and never do that again.” I placed a couple of textbooks in my locker. “I’ll see you at home. Can you stop and grab baking powder on your way home tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Why can’t you stop? You’re going straight there.” Justin asked.

“I have a date with a bubble bath.”

“Ooh la la.” Jamie laughed.

“I guess. Didn’t shower this morning and a bath is better for my itching.”

“Oh?” Justin asked.

“I’ll explain later.” I muttered. He furrowed his brow and looked at Monty. I kissed Monty goodbye.

At home, I went to wash my face so I could do the expensive face mask I had been saving for a night alone. I did an exfoliating treatment first and ran my bath. A few scented candles were set on our master bathroom counter and I poured myself a glass of raspberry juice. The book I had been meaning to get around to reading was sitting on the toilet for easy access. Okay fine. One of the books I had been meaning to read. It was very relaxing. I had to dig in the cabinet for my body scrub but found it behind a backup pack of deodorant from Costco. Luckily, the bubble bath was also right there. I poured some in to give it time to foam.

With my face mask done and washed off, I undressed and settled in the tub. The water was boiling hot, just the way I liked it. I sighed and sipped my juice, enjoying a night alone. When the husband is away, wife will pamper. The hot water helped to calm my itching skin. The scrub made my legs nice and smooth before I shaved them and exfoliated a second time. Once the necessaries were taken care of, I could start to relax. Picking up my book, I settled in for the foreseeable future. My book was so interesting and immersive, I completely lost track of time. I was still in the tub when Monty got home. “Addison?” He called when he didn’t find me in the kitchen.

“I’m in the bath.” I called back.

“Okay.” He was opening and closing drawers in our room. He poked his head in the bathroom. “Do you want a glass of water or anything? How long have you been in there?” I paused for a moment to consider. How long had it been?

“What time is it?”

“Almost seven.” My eyes widened.

“Really? Then yeah, I’ll take a glass of water. I’m going to get out right away.” He shut the door behind him and I threw my book across to the door so it didn’t get wet when I got out of the tub.

Once dry and moisturized, I left the bathroom in search of my husband. I found him on the couch scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “I missed you.” I bent behind the back of the couch to kiss his cheek.

“I missed you too. You look very cozy in your fuzzy pyjamas.”

“Why thank you.” I curtsied. He laughed happily. Settling next to him, I laid my head in his lap.

“How was your bath?”

“Amazing. Very relaxing. Oh! And I exfoliated and shaved my legs.” I grinned and lifted my pants leg. “Feel!”

Again, Monty laughed and shook his head. He still reached out and rubbed my leg though. “Very soft and smooth.”

“How was girl problems?”

“I think they’re resolved. It wasn’t as major or as difficult as we thought.”

“That’s good.” I peeked at his phone. He was watching football injury videos. Oh Sweetie. “Hey, how’s your knee?”

“It’s okay. Physio has been helping.”

“I’m glad.” He seemed to realize then that I wasn’t just asking for an update on his progress.

“Oh. I’m just watching this because some of them are funny.”

“Funny?”

“Yeah.” He restarted the video and adjusted his position so I could see too. He was right. Some of them were pretty funny.

It was family brunch Saturday the next day. Scott, Charlie, and Justin all came over. As usual, the four young men were more than happy to eat relatively work free. Monty did have to help me reach a few things and our guests helped set the table. But for the most part, I did the work. It was relaxing for me. Monty still felt a little uncomfortable having me do most of the work in the kitchen, but I didn’t mind. It was my choice to do it. I enjoyed it. And it made things much smoother when I was working solo.

Since it was just a casual pancake breakfast this week and just the five of us, I didn’t really feel a need to shower before they came over. As such, I was still in my pyjamas most of the morning. They didn’t mind. We hung out for a while after brunch together. By the time everyone was getting ready to leave around two, I decided it was time to shower and make myself feel like a human again. “I’m running Scott’s place for a bit. We have a couple of things to go over with Charlie for next week’s game.” Monty explained when I was going to shower.

“No problem. I’ll just be here writing or reading or something.” From the bathroom I could hear him putzing around our room. I didn’t think too much of it. He was probably looking for a playbook or something.

After my shower, I wrapped my towels around me, fully prepared to throw on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater for the rest of the day. Instead, I was puzzled to find a large white box in the centre of the bed. There was a bow and a single pink Post it note stuck to the lid. It simply said wear me on it in blue ink. I frowned in confusion but opened it anyway. Nestled inside was a classic, Hepburn-esque little black dress. I gasped and covered my mouth in shock. Gently lifting the dress out of the box I held it out at arm’s length to examine it. It was beautiful. This man is full of surprises. Not wanting to wrinkle the dress, I carefully set it on the bed while I grabbed a hanger.

Once it was hung up, I put on a pair of sweats and an old pyjama shirt. In the kitchen, I found another note next to the coffee machine. This one was on a yellow Post it, also in blue ink. No coffee. Look up. I frowned again. Why no coffee? Looking up on the underside of the cabinet, I found another yellow Post it. This one had an arrow pointing towards the living room. There, yet another Post it. This one was blue. There was another arrow pointing at the coat closet. A green Post it was stuck to the closet door. Be ready at 5:00. Wear your matching black pointy shoes. Now I was even more confused. Well, it says be ready. I shrugged and checked my watch. It was just past two. I rolled my eyes at the coffee note and made myself a cup anyway. I wouldn’t need to be up all night, but note be damned. I wanted coffee. I savoured it while I let my thoughts run wild of what could be in store for my night. At home fancy dress dinner? Going out for dinner? A walk in the financial district in the city? Hmmm. By two forty-five, I had finished my coffee and started getting ready.

I carefully put on the dress after I had washed my face again. I decided to curl my hair in tight ringlets so that when I brushed them out, they wouldn’t fall flat immediately. I let them set while I did my makeup. So, I didn’t get makeup all over my dress, I draped a towel around my neck to cover it. The simple black cat eye and blue red lipstick paired wonderfully with the classic, timeless style of the dress. A neutral blush and light bronzer added colour and balance to complete the look. I carefully brushed out the curls into nice waves framing my face. Using a decorative bobby pin, I pulled my bangs away from my face. Exiting our room after putting on my tennis bracelet-a birthday gift from my Gran a couple of years ago- I looked at the clock on the stove. It was four fifty. I had ten minutes to spare. Slipping on my heels, I went through my wallet and took out my ID and credit card. I had assumed that we would be going out and Monty usually kept my cards in his wallet.

The sound of a car pulling into our driveway pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door when the car door shut. Monty was walking up to the house in a very familiar white dress shirt and black slacks. Damn, he cleans up good. I thought it every time he dressed up, no matter how often I saw it. His eyes widened slightly, and he stopped to take in my look. I stopped him in his tracks. I blushed and did a little twirl. He whistled through his teeth. “You look. Absolutely amazing.”

“You look incredible. Have I ever told you, you clean up really well?”

“Once or twice.” He shrugged. I smiled widely. He finished his walk up to the house and took my hands in his, really taking the time to take me in. “You really do look beautiful Addison.”

“Thank you.” I blushed again. My engagement ring sparkled in the setting sun. Monty’s black tungsten ring felt cool in my hand. Together, we walked to the car. We took my car, but I let him drive. It’s our insurance. “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”

“Nope.” He said as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Okay.” We chatted quietly on the way to our mystery location. Given the time, I assumed we were going to a restaurant. When we got closer to the county limits, I realized we were going into the city for dinner. I watched the cars speeding past us on the highway in the other direction. People were eager to be getting home from spending their days shopping or running errands.

I tried to figure out where we were going once we got to the city based on the turns Monty made. I was familiar with most of the downtown and financial districts due to visiting my dad at work when I was younger. I was a little surprised when he pulled in the parking lot for the new Italian place that opened last month. I wasn’t surprised because I was concerned about cost or anything like that. We just weren’t really fancy restaurant people very often. It was a pleasant surprise.

When he parked, we walked hand in hand to the door. He was a perfect gentleman and held the door not only for me but for the couple behind us. I smiled at him while we waited to be seated. He squeezed my hand. We were seated at a more secluded table, closer to the back of the restaurant. The table was lit by candlelight and dim recessed lighting in the aisle. It’s beautiful. Our waiter came by and introduced himself as Anthony. I ordered a cranberry juice with ice and Monty got a Coke. Anthony gave us a few minutes with the menus. As soon as I saw traditional carbonara on the menu, I had made a firm decision. Monty and I sat in comfortable silence while we perused the menu. Even though I knew what I wanted, it never hurt to look at the other options.

After we ordered-carbonara for me and lobster ravioli for Monty-Anthony left us to our evening. “This is really nice.” I said, after a sip of my juice.

“I figured we deserved nice. Or rather, you deserved nice. After everything… and I know you’ve been stressed about school. So, I figured you could use a night off.” He left the obvious tension between us and the cause for it unsaid. We both knew the reason.

“It’s still nice. And we do deserve it. This dress is beautiful by the way.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“When exactly did you acquire it?” I asked, with a sly raise of my brow.

“About yesterday…” Montgomery began, “Jamie wasn’t having girl troubles.”

“I kind of figured. Have they even decided if they have anything to have troubles over?”

“No. They’re still not together. But they go places together and buy each other things. And have sex. Apparently, there is a lot of sex.”

“But they aren’t dating.”

“No.”

“Maybe he is having girl troubles.”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. Anthony came by with our orders. Unsurprisingly, the food was delicious. Mouth wateringly delicious. My eyes widened in ecstasy. So did Monty’s after he took a bite of his own food. We each shared a bite with each other and smiled. So good. So so good.

We spent the rest of our evening talking and enjoying being with each other. It was very nice. We hadn’t gotten to do the whole going out and just being together thing in a while. I pushed the last of my carbonara around on my plate. I wasn’t bored exactly. I was having a wonderful time. “Hey. Where’d you go?” Monty reached across the table to take my hand.

“Oh. Nowhere. I was just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“This is really nice.” I paused.

“But…?”

“I would honestly much rather be at home in sweatpants watching the new episodes of Law & Order from the other night.”

“Me too.” He giggled. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. He motioned to our waiter for the bill. The black holder was placed in between us. Monty placed some cash inside and set it down without so much as a glance at me. He helped me with my coat and took my hand after he put on his own. As soon as we got out of the restaurant, I stopped and turned to him.

“Race you to the car.” I grinned before taking off like a bat out of hell. I heard him bark out a laugh behind me. I didn’t look back. Nor did I turn when I heard his footsteps. He wasn’t running because of his knee. They were getting closer though. Even without running, he was able to gain on me because of his gait. Running in heels was not the easiest thing in the world but I managed to beat him to the car. When he arrived with the keys, I was grinning at him, triumphantly from the passenger’s side. “I won.”

“Yes you did.” He was grinning back at me.

When we got home, the two of us changed into our comfiest sweatpants and t-shirts. I threw on my old Tigers hoodie and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave after taking off my makeup. Monty pulled up the recorded episodes. I couldn’t tell if he wore his grey sweats on purpose or not. We got comfortable on the couch and hit play. From the get-go this episode of SVU had both of us on the edge of our seats. The popcorn was mostly untouched. I teared up multiple times. When it was over, I ripped the remote from the coffee table and scrolled up to the new episode of Organized Crime. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer than strictly necessary. Our eyes were glued to the screen for the whole hour, minus the fast forwarding through commercials. By the end, we turned to each other in shock. “Wow.” Was all I could say about it.

“The new theme song is pretty great.”

“Yes. I don’t know how to process any other thoughts about it though.”

“Me either.”

“Very worth the wait.” Monty only nodded in response. I yawned and stretched. It was getting pretty late. The afternoon coffee I had wore off a while ago.

“Tired Bookworm?” I yawned again and nodded. Monty carried me to bed and tucked me in. I cuddled up beside him.

Before falling asleep I mumbled, “thank you for tonight. Was really nice. Ni’ night.”

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excelsi-or · 3 years

Text

just a little sweeter (pt. 13)

I hope all of your holidays (if you celebrate Christmas or not) were excellent! Mine has been very restful so far. I get another week off, which I’m very excited for.

Anywho, this story is JUST about at the end. And some of you think there’s angst coming, because I’ve been reading your comments. And... there might be some coming lol. But it’s not this one.

BIPOC rec: I don’t know how many of you know French or like French music, BUT I recently learned about Aya Nakamura. She apparently has a song famous on TikTok? I heard ‘Copines’ on IG. Her album Nakamura is a full on jam. I’m currently listening through AYA and it’s also very fun.

w.c. 1.2k (just a little fluff for your post-Christmas content)

pt.1; pt.2; pt.3; pt.4; pt.5; pt.6; pt.7; pt.8; pt. 9; pt. 10; pt. 11; pt. 12

Jihoon falls back on the couch next to her, his arm draped over his eyes. “Why did you bring her to that pet store?”

She chuckles, typing up an email to an artist that she’s found to do a mural in the café. “You asked me to take her out. I took her out. She saw the animals in the window. What was I supposed to do? Cover her eyes?”

“Yes!” Jihoon’s arms flail out in front of him. He leans forward on his knees and looks back at her. She has an amused smile on her face. “You’ve seen her puppy dog eyes. It’s hard to say no.”

“I’ve helped her perfect them on you.”

Jihoon frowns. “You did not.”

She looks down at her keyboard and blinks a few times. The next time her head lifts, her eyes have widened, her lips pout, and she tilts her head so that her hair falls out of her face.

Jihoon’s jaw drops, which makes her laugh.

“You’re supposed to love me. And you’re conspiring with my daughter so that she can get a bunny? Unbelievable.”

She rolls her eyes, more amused than anything else. She tries to close out her email. “Jihoon, I do love you.” She catches the way he smiles a bit. “But I also love Eunha. Is it my fault that she’s a complete daddy’s girl and has you wrapped around her finger?” She shrugs. “Nope.”

Jihoon runs his hands over his face. “Do you know how long it took me to get her to lie down? She asked me for thirteen bunnies! Thirteen!”

She sends the email and then closes her laptop. She places it on the coffee table and scoots closer to him to rest a hand on his back. “Jihoon, she loves her dad and her uncles. Can you blame her for wanting thirteen bunnies?”

Jihoon tips his head both ways. “It could’ve also been thirty.” He meets her gaze. “Have you been teaching her how to count past ten?”

She nods. “We’re up to about 15.”

Jihoon leans over and rests his forehead on her shoulder. “How am I supposed to tell her we can’t get a bunny?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “Why not?”

“I’m only just managing to take care of my daughter. I can’t take care of an animal too.”

There’s a pause as they think for a minute. “What if… I get the bunny?”

Jihoon lifts his head suddenly, nearly knocking into her head. She lifts an eyebrow. “A bunny for my daughter?”

“Well I mean,” she shrugs, “I guess for me, but your daughter can name it and she can visit it.”

He breaks out into a smile and pecks her over and over again. “I love you.”

She laughs, her arms going around the back of his neck and pulling him closer. “You didn’t see those bunnies, though, Jihoonie. They were so cute.”

Jihoon pulls away slightly. “If we’re talking about pets, I’d really prefer a dog.”

“A dog, huh?”

Jihoon kisses her nose and stands. “A dog, yes.” He holds a hand out to her. “Sleep?”

She lets him help her to her feet. “What would we be calling this dog?”

“Mochi?”

“You even have a name in mind.” She turns the lamp off as they make their way to his room. “And you’re freaking out because your daughter wants a bunny.”

“What am I supposed to do with a bunny?” He falls back onto the bed.

“Love it, adore it, play with it.”

“All of which I can do with a dog,” Jihoon points out. He pulls her onto the bed over top of him.

“I’ll go with Eunha tomorrow after my shift and look at the dogs.”

“Go with her to the adoption place.”

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, entirely charmed. “You want an adopted pup?”

“Everyone needs a home.”

She peppers him in kisses. “Oh god. I love you.”

Eunha is spending the weekend with his parents in Busan; she and Jihoon had dropped her off the night before. She hadn’t gotten out of the car, because they both agreed that neither of them were quite ready to meet parents. But she had watched as Jihoon had handed a sleeping Eunha over to his mother. She watched the older woman motion for Jihoon to come inside, but he shook his head and gestured towards the car.

Jihoon wakes and finds her lying next to him, arm splayed across his chest with a book in hand. He looks down at her. “Morning.”

She kisses the side of his chest in response, still reading.

“How long have you been up?”

“An hour.”

“And you’ve been attached to me like this for an hour?”

She meets his eye now, leaving her book on his chest with the pages down to hold her place. “You wouldn’t let me go.”

Jihoon feels his cheeks warm, but cradles her closer. He kisses the top of her head. “What’s our plan today?”

“Well.” Her voice comes out muffled, her breath warm against his skin. He releases her and she readjusts herself so she’s comfortable. Jihoon moves her book to his bedside table. “Seungkwan actually invited me over to the dorms tonight.”

Jihoon’s brow furrows. “When did he do that?”

“He’s the one who let me into the company building last night, remember? On the elevator ride up, he suggested it.” Her cold hand mindlessly rubs his chest and stomach. “If you’re not okay with that, I can text Seungcheol to tell Seungkwan no for me.”

Jihoon catches her moving hand and kisses her palm to warm it. “No. He invited you; it means they want to meet you.”

She nods and studies his face. “And I may have one other place we need to go around noon. Then we can hang out on the couch.”

He kisses her forehead and burrows under the covers again. “That gives us a few more hours to sleep then.”

“That one’s cuter,” Jihoon says.

She snorts and smacks him on the arm. “We can’t get a giant dog. It won’t fit in your apartment or mine and he’ll squash your baby.” She leads him further into the kennel. She knows one of the employees who comes to her café a lot. They have the adoption place to themselves for an hour.

When they reach the last kennel, Jihoon grabs her hand. “She’s it. Jagi, this one.” He pulls her to stand in front of him. He has a hand on the small of her back and he leans around to offer his hand to the little black and brown scraggly looking dog. “She came in last week.”

“We probably can’t take her right away though.”

“Doesn’t she look like ours, though? Jagi, look at her face.”

She laughs and squats down in front of the cage. “Okay, okay. I agree. She looks very sweet.” She looks back up at Jihoon. “So we’re really getting a dog.”

Jihoon buries his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “Yeah, we’re getting a dog.”

#Seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios

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fallinnflower · 4 years

Text

worth it

hoshi x reader (university!au, strangers to lovers, fluff)

The first time you met Soonyoung was during the co-curricular fair during your first year of college. Soonyoung sat at a fold out table in the quad with three of his friends, music playing from a Bluetooth speaker and a big poster taped to the front of the table which simply read ‘DANCE CLUB,’ surrounded by hand-drawn emoticons. You thought it was a cute booth, and you thought he was a cute boy, but you nearly jumped out of your skin when he called out to get your attention.

You weren’t sure what clubs you were going to join, but you didn’t think you’d make for a good dancer — you’d only ever danced by yourself in your room, and one time at a school dance. But there was Soonyoung, calling out at ‘the girl in the blue cap,’ which you suddenly realized was you, imploring you to join. You attempted to conceal yourself in your jacket as you shook your head, mumbling an apology and waving as you wove your way deeper into the crowd, cheeks blazing.

You didn’t look back.

The next time you interacted with Soonyoung (beyond him smiling at you when you crossed paths, which you figured he did to everyone because he was just that friendly) was in a marketing class the two of you had together. You didn’t sit anywhere near Soonyoung, and for the first quarter of the semester nothing of consequence happened between you two.

Then there was the midterm assignment. Randomized partners, open-ended topic, all culminating in a twenty-five minute presentation given by the both of you.

You hated the waiting most of all. Sitting, listening to your professor call out what seemed to be everyone else’s name but your own, biting down on the inside of your cheek the longer you had to wait.

“Soonyoung and Y/N.” Your head snaps up, and suddenly Soonyoung is waving excitedly at you, motioning to the seat beside him with a big grin. With your heart beating a mile a minute you pack up your things and slip down the row to sit beside Soonyoung.

“Hi!” He greets. You manage a quiet reply, not sure why you feel so bashful in his bright presence. “Do you have any ideas for the project?”

“Um, well...” You pause, flipping a few pages back in your notebook. “We could always talk about social media’s impact on marketing… I know it’s simple, but maybe we could pick a specific platform and get some data about how marketing has developed there. Maybe Instagram?” You chance a look at Soonyoung out of the corner of your eye to find him still beaming at you, peering down into your notebook. His face is closer to yours than you expected, and his cheeks are bunched up in such an endearing way that you just want to pinch them. And just like that, as if you weren’t blushing enough as it is, you feel your cheeks heat up tenfold.

Suddenly, everyone starts packing up, and you close your notebook in a hurried manner,

“So, um, I’m free every afternoon—”

“How about tomorrow then? At 7 in the library?” You nod, caught off guard at how enthusiastic Soonyoung seems to be about this project. He’s never been active in class, and, to be honest, you were expecting him to drag his feet a bit more.

It’s 7:15, and you can’t keep yourself from biting at your lip, a mix of agitated and concerned that keeps you bouncing your knee as the minutes tick by. You’re close to just sending Soonyoung an email and ditching, but suddenly you catch sight of him jogging frantically between the shelves of books. You stand and wave to catch his attention, and he grins when he notices you, brushing his hair back from his face.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that his hair is damp, sticking up in a multitude of different directions.

“Hi, sorry,” he pants, somehow still looking chipper. “I let dance practice run late and I didn’t wanna come here all sweaty. But, I brought snacks to make up for it!” He drops a bag of gummy bears on the table between the two of you, eyes sparkling. You sink back into your seat, averting your gaze as a sense of guilt washes over you.

“The library has a no food policy,” you mumble, and all it takes is a glance to see that Soonyoung’s smile has dropped a bit.

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and all you can hear is the rhythmic clicking of other students' keyboards, until suddenly there’s a crinkling sound and the bag is once again in your vision.

“That’s fine, you just take them then! As an apology for me being late.”

When you look up, considering denying his offering, you can’t help but pause. His smile is as gummy as the candy he’s offering, his cheeks looking just as squishy and his eyes glittering with anticipation. You feel your heart skip a beat as you accept, slipping the bag into your backpack.

“Thanks, Soonyoung,” you whisper, and he laughs.

“You can call me Hoshi, if you want. All my friends do.” This, too, gives you pause, but you shake it off and return his smile — albeit shyly.

“Okay, Hoshi.” You turn back to your laptop, missing the way his ears turn red, and pull up the Google Doc and Slideshow you had made for the project.

“I went ahead and shared the project materials with you, did you get them?”

It’s then that you realize Hoshi isn’t the best with technology. He looks a little bit like a confused grandfather as he leans in towards his screen, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly ajar.

“Everything okay?” You ask, and he lets out a little whine.

“It won’t let me type anything.” You tilt your head, equally confused. You had given him editing access, hadn’t you?

“Let me see.” Hoshi not only turns his laptop to you, but moves to the seat beside you to see what you do. You let out a little laugh as soon as you realize what it is.

“Ah, you weren’t in editing mode.” You switch his system over, and Hoshi leans back in his seat with an embarrassed pout on his lips. To put it mildly, it’s adorable, and you’re not sure how you’re going to deal with looks like that if he’s always this bad with his laptop.

Despite that little obstacle, Hoshi is relatively prepared. He’d found a couple of sources that he had to dig around in his bookmarks to get to again, and he seemed genuinely interested in working hard. The two of you laid out the basics of your project, throwing little notes into the doc and talking through your points.

“I can make some infographics for the project,” you offer. “I can probably have them ready by this weekend.”

“Should we meet up on Sunday then?” He asks. “We can go to a coffee shop! My treat!”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts, dark eyes sincere as one of his hands comes to rest reassuringly over your own. “You’ve been really helpful, and I’m not very good with technology so you’re going to end up doing a lot more than you should have to, so I want to make it up to you.”

Well, you don’t know how you’re supposed to say no to that when he’s smiling so cutely at you and his hand is on yours — so you don’t. You just nod and agree, before you both pack up your things. Hoshi carries your bag for you until the two of you part ways at the quad, him heading down to the house he rents with a few of his friends and you back to the dorms.

Later that night, as you’re checking your emails one last time before bed, you’re surprised to find a notification that Hoshi had made a relatively recent change to your Doc. You click to open it and can’t help but giggle at what you find.

I forgot to give you my number at the library!! (***)-***-***!!! ヽ(´▽`)/

You can’t help but think the emoticon looks just a little bit like him, and you fall asleep with a smile still lingering on your face. Kwon Soonyoung, you think, what a guy.

Hoshi texts you throughout the week — at first, just to ask questions about various little tech issues and what you think of the sources he’s found; you simply laugh when he asks you what font you like for the slideshow, but your best friend (who’s peeking over your shoulder) has a slightly different reaction.

“Oh my god,” she says. “He’s just coming up with random shit now!”

“Huh?”

“He’s just finding reasons to text you,” she continues, exasperated. “Like, fonts, seriously? He just wants to talk to you!” You shake your head, texting Hoshi that you don’t have a preference.

“No, he’s just bad with computers, that’s all. Besides, we barely know each other.” Your friend huffs.

“You’re oblivious.”

But as time goes by, you can’t really deny that he seems to be texting you about almost nothing. But you also can’t deny that you’re enjoying talking to him, with his excessive emoticons and use of exclamation points. Even when he’s distracting you from class, his messages leave a smile on your face.

And Hoshi is the King of Distractions. In fact, the next time you have class together, Hoshi repeatedly catches your eyes just to point at his phone to get you to check yours. You wonder how he’s been doing so well in class if he’s always like this, and so you mime back that he should take notes.

He pouts. It’s unfairly cute. He points at the phone again and you finally give in, rolling your eyes before tapping the screen.

You give him the most withering look of disbelief you can manage, and he only beams back at you like it’s the best thing he’s ever done in his life. You roll your eyes, but as you turn away you happen to glance at your phone again just in time to see his message before your screen fades to black.

Dork, you type back with a smile on your face. He’s just too cute to ignore. When you happen to glance up from your phone again, Hoshi is pouting more prominently than you’ve ever seen before. You try not to think it’s cute, try to keep from smiling, but you just can’t help it. It seems you just can’t help anything when it comes to him, at this rate.

Sunday comes and you’re less prepared than you’d like to admit. After sleeping through your alarm, you’d barely managed to remember to grab your laptop and charger to show Hoshi the infographics you were meeting to talk about before running out the door with your moisturizer barely slapped on. To say you were self-conscious entering the cafe, slightly winded and with stray hairs falling into your face from where you had it pulled back, would be an understatement.

You’re quick to find Hoshi, who is staring at you with his lips slightly parted, expression unreadable. The apologies burst from your mouth like a flood, barely pausing for a breath as you explain your morning situation.

“But don’t worry,” you say, plopping down onto the seat and smiling brightly at him as your laptop boots up. “The infographics are done!” Hoshi stares at you for a moment, that same expression from before still on his face before he shakes his head slightly and replaces it with a familiar smile.

“I’m sure they’re awesome,” he says, pushing his chair back. “Want anything? My treat.” It takes you a moment to decide on a pastry to go with your coffee, but his smile never once fades — he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit impatient, even as he goes to stand in line. At some point, he turns his head to try and catch your eye, and when he does he scrunches up his nose and smiles; you giggle and do your best to mimic his expression, and when you do he’s quick to turn away, but not before you see his cheeks turning pink. You wonder if he’s feeling alright.

He returns a moment later with both your coffees and two chocolate croissants on a plate. You push your laptop so he can see it and begin operating the mouse with one hand, taking your croissant in the other.

As is your usual tendency, you fall so far into explaining your work that you forget anything else — which is why you’re shocked to see Hoshi staring so intently at you and not the screen when you finally finish your spiel with a hopeful, “So?” He blinks rapidly, turning a little red again, before nodding enthusiastically at you.

“They look great!” He chirps, then takes a long drink of his coffee. You sigh in relief and do the same, turning your laptop back to yourself.

“Um, Y/N?” You hear him ask, and you lift your gaze from your screen.

“Hm?” Hoshi looks very determined, and although you don’t understand why, you realize it’s a very good look on him, one that leaves you feeling flustered.

“You have some chocolate on your face.” You immediately feel yourself turn red, and begin looking to see where the napkins are.

“Where?”

You feel a light touch on your chin, and Hoshi is suddenly leaning across the table towards you. His eyes are focused intently on your lips and it only makes you more self-conscious; your breath stalls in your chest.

“There,” he intones, his voice low as his thumb gently glides along the corner of your mouth. His gaze flicks up to meet yours, and you feel your heart skip a beat as a smile spreads across his face, “Perfect.”

Maybe his touch lingers, or maybe you’re just imagining things, but either way Hoshi sits back in his seat and goes back to munching on his croissant with no more than a light laugh, leaving you light-headed. You duck your head slightly, staring at your keyboard as you feel your face continue to burn, and wonder if you might still be asleep and dreaming.

If you are, you consider, you don’t really want to wake up.

Your best friend hits you with a pillow when you tell her about your café meeting with Hoshi.

“Hey!” You snap, swatting the pillow away from your face. “What was that for?” Your friend lets out a long-suffering groan and falls dramatically back onto your bed.

“I’ve failed you!” She wails, clutching the pillow to her chest. “A hot boy flirts with you and you don’t even notice!”

“I don’t know,” you say, plucking at a loose thread on your blanket. “Maybe it was nothing. It’s Hoshi, be realistic.” At the sudden quietness of your tone your friend lifts her head and fixes you with a glare.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Y/N?” You shift awkwardly beneath her gaze.

“Just… just that Hoshi is kinda out of my league, okay?” You’re not usually the type to think about leagues, but Hoshi has always seemed sort of untouchable to you, a polar opposite. He shines as bright as his nickname would imply and you tend to prefer not being noticed because it makes you anxious. The thought of Hoshi liking you feels a bit like Aphrodite liking Hephaestus, and you just can’t shake that little cloud of self-consciousness away.

“Y/N,” your friend says sternly, sitting up and forcing you to meet her eyes. “There is no reason for Kwon Soonyoung not to like you, and there is no reason you should reject him if you like him, too.” You press your lips into a thin line, frustrated that she’s making sense. Sometimes you really just want to be irrational and take the risk.

And you have a feeling that having your heart broken by Kwon Soonyoung is one hell of a risk to run.

The project goes much more smoothly than you previously expected, especially considering Hoshi’s schedule is as crazy as it is. You know that his club has an event coming up, so you try your best to keep the workload light on his end — not because you think he can’t handle it, but because he definitely seems to be pushing himself to the limit. His normally bright eyes seem duller when you catch him off guard, and the bags under his eyes are significantly heavier than before. Luckily, you’re both almost done with the whole thing after that long session in the cafe.

That doesn’t stop Hoshi from asking you about it after class one day. You barely notice him bounding up to you until he taps you on your shoulder, his face lit up in that familiar grin.

“Hey,” he chirps. “When should we meet to finish the project?” You can’t help but smile at him, and you lightly wave it off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I can finish it up.” Suddenly, Hoshi stops in his tracks, gently pulling at your sleeve so that you do the same. His face is now set in a pout, which is undeniably cute but you swear you won’t fall for it this time.

“That’s not very fair,” he grumbles. You avert your gaze, nervously playing with some of your hair,

“Well, I mean, it’s just that you’re so busy—”

“And you aren’t?” He interrupts, and you look up at him.

“I don’t run a club with a showcase coming up,” you argue, and Hoshi huffs, entirely unconvinced. After a moment, however, his expression suddenly shifts to a smile.

“How about this,” he begins. “You come to the showcase, and then afterwards we can finish the project together!”

“Won’t you be tired?” He shakes his head immediately, the sparkle back in his eyes.

“I’d never be too tired for you.”

You nod without even thinking, and Hoshi is excitedly bounding off before you can even consider what his words might mean.

After telling your roommate about Hoshi’s ‘compromise,’ she screams at you for a few minutes about how oblivious you are before telling you she’s going to pick out your outfit for the showcase whether you want her to or not. By the time the showcase has actually rolled around, you realize you actually do want her to figure out your outfit because suddenly you feel like you have nothing to wear.

However, she dresses you pretty simply. She shoves you into a cold shoulder style sweater you rarely ever wear and what she knows are your favorite jeans. She points to various shades of eyeshadow and has you apply it and your lip tint yourself, and as you stand in front of the mirror looking basically the same as always, you can’t help but look at her in confusion.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask, and she playfully shoves your shoulder.

“He already likes you, idiot. How you dress doesn’t really matter, I just knew you were gonna overthink it so I chose for you.” You stick your tongue out at her, annoyed at how well she knows you but grateful, nonetheless, that she’s helped you out so much. She even agrees to go to the showcase with you for moral support, since she knows you aren’t really into crowds.

The downside is that she isn’t above elbowing her way through the crowd to make sure you’re directly in front of the stage, where you and Hoshi will have a very clear view of one another. She stands beside you, squished so close that your arms brush together, and as the stage goes dark and the crowd falls silent you find yourself grabbing at her hand out of nervousness. She laughs at your antics but gives your fingers a reassuring squeeze.

A spotlight falls upon the stage, where Hoshi and the other three boys in his unit are lying on the floor in a pile, somehow still managing to look elegant. You bite down hard onto your lip the moment the music starts, and even though Hoshi isn’t the first to move you can’t seem to take your eyes off of him. This is Hoshi, you realize, so much fiercer than the tired, goofy boy you see in class. Someone has done his makeup, the eyeshadow smoked out into a dramatic wing that contrasts his pristine white clothing.

And then suddenly you realize they’re singing. All four of them, and you swear Soonyoung’s gaze catches yours right as he begins the first chorus and you’re ready to die, you are, holy shit—

Your mind falls completely blank from then on, and you only come to again when the lights fall and the crowd erupts into applause. Your best friend yanks her hand out of your grasp to clap along with them, and you do so as well, blinking rapidly to clear your mind. She gives you a teasing look and you don’t bother to sass her; you don’t have the brain power to say anything at all.

A few more members of the dance club perform, but Hoshi doesn’t come on stage again until the fourth song. This time, he and the three other boys are dressed in all black, and you realize with sudden and extreme force that Soonyoung’s shirt is mesh. You think of all the times you’ve seen him in baggy sweaters and t-shirts, looking comfortable and cozy and overall like a great cuddler — you hadn’t ever considered he would have abs, even though you probably should have given his dancing regimen. You can feel your best friend’s elbow nudging your side, but you’re too laser-focused on Soonyoung to give her even a sliver of your attention.

You don’t think you’ve ever been mad that a person looks sexy before. First time for everything.

When the performance ends, you’re shocked to find Hoshi’s gaze locked with yours. A shiver runs down your spine at the intensity of his gaze, and although you know you’re blushing you can’t bring yourself to look away until the lights fall once more, plunging you into darkness. You can hardly hear the applause over the thundering of your heart in your ears, and as people begin gathering their belongings and moving to the back of the auditorium space, your best friend takes hold of your arm excitedly.

“Okay, we have to go backstage!”

That snaps you out of it.

“What? No!” You shake your head wildly, but your best friend merely continues to smile. “Most of the crew has no clue who we are, we can’t just walk backstage—”

“Well we can’t just leave after all that,” she retorts, smirking devilishly. You cover your cheeks with your hands, hoping to quell the raging blush.

“I hate you,” you grumble, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why can’t we just wait here, or—?”

“Y/N!” Your eyes snap open, and you find that your best friend is now gazing past you, towards the doors you know lead backstage.

“Oh my God,” you breathe, barely audible, but your anxious response goes ignored as your best friend waves to Hoshi excitedly.

“Hey Hoshi! Great job tonight, is Minghao back there still?” She’s standing before he even answers her question, and you’re pretty sure she would’ve walked away regardless of if Minghao was around or not. You curse yourself for forgetting that the two are lab partners. As she walks away, you take a deep, calming breath, and fix a smile to your face. When you turn, Soonyoung is already standing in front of you, dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats with just his familiar smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greets, beaming. You feel your heart skip a beat.

“Hi.” Why does your voice sound so small? “You did great, but I’m sure you know that already.” He laughs, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I do, but it’s still nice to hear you say it,” he replies, looking extremely pleased as you feel the blush rising high on your cheeks once again. You find yourself rendered speechless, thinking of the intensity of his eyes when they met yours on stage. Thankfully, he’s the first to break the silence, smiling fondly down at you in your seat.

“I was gonna go for bubble tea. Do you wanna come with? My treat.” Looking up into his bright, smiling eyes, you wonder how you could ever say no.

“Sure, let me just text my roommate and let her know.”

The bubble tea place Hoshi takes you to is only a few minutes’ walk from campus, and the majority of that journey is passed in amicable silence. You keep sneaking glances at Hoshi, although each time you do it makes you flustered and you ought to be avoiding that kind of situation. True to his word, when you get to the shop he pays for both of your orders before you can say a thing. As you leave the shop, preferring to walk back towards campus while the weather is nice, you find yourself breaking the silence,

“If you keep treating me like this, I’ll never be able to repay you.” You look up at him with a pout, but he just responds with his usual good humor, gently nudging you with his elbow.

“Who said anything about repaying me?” He asks. “You deserve to be treated to things, anyways.” You let out a sigh as he sips on his drink, running a hand through your hair.

“But I feel bad. I’ve hardly done anything for you since we met.” Hoshi hums, glancing at you thoughtfully for a moment before replying.

“You could repay me by going on a date with me,” he says, so casually that you nearly choke on a tapioca pearl. Thankfully, you manage to wash it down with a sip of tea, though looking into Soonyoung’s serious, star-filled gaze makes you feel just as breathless as any coughing fit would have.

“I—” He waits patiently on your response, standing before you on the sidewalk, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair. “Wouldn’t you still be paying, then?”

For a moment, in the silence that falls after your response, you worry that you’ve ruined it all. And then, true to his nature, he breaks into laughter, running a hand through his hair. As his face tilts slightly towards the streetlight, you realize he’s blushing — just as nervous as you are — and can’t help but smile.

“Ah, that’s a good point,” he says, sighing. He fixes you with a playful grin, “But maybe I should just keep you in debt to me.” You laugh and playfully prod his shoulder, stepping closer to him.

“Or,” you reply, slowly looking up to meet his gaze, hoping your confidence holds. “Maybe, once we ace this project, I could take you on a date.” Somehow, his eyes seem to sparkle even brighter once he hears your response, and the smile that splits across his face is blinding.

“Deal,” he says, softly, gaze falling to your lips.

As you find the burst of confidence to close the gap between the two of you, you find yourself wondering if you’ll be able to wait until the project is finished to treat Soonyoung to that date. When he smiles against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and inadvertently pressing his cup of tea into your side, causing you to shiver and melt further into his embrace, you realize that the answer to that is no.

And you couldn’t be happier.

#hoshi imagines #Hoshi scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen texts #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #kpop fanfiction #kpop reactions #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop texts #My writing

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aspiratinganxiety · 4 years

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Hey, guys! I know it has been an age since I updated or posted any fic. I uh... I’ve been going through a lot.

Many of you, I’m sure, are now familiar with Omegaverse and A/B/O Dynamics. I have a deep and abiding love for this particular brand of trash, and I’ve recognized that there is a lack of it in the DC fandom. SO! Surprise, surprise! I’m coming back with Part I for a Jason A/B/O fic.

Let me know if you want to see more of this story, and I hope you’re all doing well in this godforsaken hellscape of a year <3

Tag List: @nxxttime , @possiblyelven , @thepuckishrogue , @jinkies-its-a-writer, @queeniepearls, @sesquipedalian-aficionado, @reinathequeenofdreems, and @dcuniverse-fanatic (If you want to be tagged, let me know! For more fics, check out my masterlist.)

Making time for a meal was often too much work for Jason. He ate on the go, eight out of ten times. The rare occasions he sat still to consume food usually involved an invitation from Alfred, like today’s debacle of a lunch. Steph was fighting with Bruce (shocker), Barbara had the flu, and Cass was diligently working one doozy of case. Her brief email rundown was more than considerate, given that she was using a satellite connection on the ass-crack of the planet in some Godforsaken jungle.

Trying to find the time to arrange a date? Ridiculous.

“C’mon, Jay,” Dick taps his shoulder with his knuckles. “I think you’d really like her. And her brother’s in the life, so it’s not like you have to deal with the ‘secret identity’ stuff.”

Now that was a plus, just not enough of one to lure Jason out of his malcontent. “Who’s ‘er brother?” he asks around a mouthful of sandwich, hoping to change the subject.

“Oh, a meta-guy I worked with in Spiral.”

The deliberate nonchalance of the eldest Robin makes Jason bristle. “Yeah,” he reiterates, tucking the massive bite into his cheek to speak more clearly. “And his name was?”

“Not the important part,” Dick dodges again. “The important parts are that she’s an omega living in Gotham who does charity work for a living. She is also very cute! I have a picture.” At this point, he sets down the family sized bag of plain Lays (abominable) and fishes his phone out of his back pocket.

Tim, thank Christ, decides to weigh in on the matter. “I feel like who her brother is happens to be important, considering that you specified he knows who Jason is, and by proxy the rest of us…”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You said I wouldn’t have to keep my identity a secret, because he’s in the life. That wouldn’t be relevant unless he knew me,” Jason motions to his chest vigorously, some stray shreds of lettuce escaping his sandwich.

“That’s not what I said” Dick insists.

“It’s what you implied with what you said.” Tim points at Dick with a cheese puff, pinky aloft, then pops the snack into his mouth to state another observation. “Also, regardless of whether or not he knows Jason, he knows who you are. That means he already knows who we are, and I’d really like to have his name, Dick.”

“Tim, shut up. This isn’t about you.”

“Let’s watch our tone, boys,” Alfred says, breezing into the kitchen with a faintly disappointed air to have found them, not only arguing, but hunched vulture-like around the kitchen island decimating what would have been decent leftovers. “Master Dick, we all know how Jason feels about match-making: much the way Master Bruce feels about it.”

Outwardly admonished, Dick says something to schmooze Alfred while he slides his phone over to Jason. Never one to deny curiosity, Jason peers down to see the girl Dick’s pestering him about. She’s a round young woman in a dirty pink T-shirt holding up a mop-head of a puppy with a big, goofy smile on her face. Her hair is windswept, she’s clearly sunburned, her front teeth have a gap between them, and she’s possibly the most adorable human being he’s ever seen in his life.

Shaking his head, Jason says, “She’s not my type.”

Unrepentant and quick to ignore the wave of wry disapproval emanating from Alfred, Dick stops mid-excuse to say, “Oh, she is so your type. Don’t lie to me.”

“She looks twelve!” Jason recoils, scrunching his face and glancing back down at the sweet girl in the photo. “The hell’s wrong with you?”

“She does not,” Dick defends himself, using his back to block Tim’s snooping look toward the screen. He double checks the picture himself, and a few moments pass. “Okay,” he shoots Jason a resentful glance while swiping forward a few times. “She looks a little young in that particular picture, but she’s in her twenties. Here! Look at this one.”

Tim to the rescue again! “Uh, I thought you said you had a picture, Dick. As in one.”

Dick doesn’t bother to dignify that with more than a muttered, “Puh-lease.” Like they weren’t all aware that folders full of images on anyone were only a few clicks away. Tim, especially.

Jason tunes out of the bickering that begins between them as Dick continues to exclude Tim, physically using his body as a barrier and failing to hold the phone steady for Jason’s eyes. She’s in a bikini top seated in a cheap plastic kiddy pool, more tanned and freckled with her hair restrained somewhat successfully in a braid that sits over her shoulder. Three massive dogs crowd around her for attention, but her eyes, amber from the angle of the sun, are staring straight at the camera. This smile is shyer; lips hiding her teeth, shoulders bent forward to bring her chest in and mask the soft rolls on her stomach brought out by her position sitting upright. She does look to be markedly older in this particular photo.

“How many damn dogs does she have?” Jason returns to his sandwich, averting his eyes and willing his voice to be dismissive.

“She works at the new shelter in East End, bruh. These aren’t her dogs.”

Damian ghosted into the kitchen at some point and posted himself behind Jason. The older brother pretends that he’s not startled to hear the kid speak. “Really? I’ve been reading good things about their practice. No-kill, good rehoming rates. Working to coordinate with other shelters and founding a spay/neuter program...” he trails off, weaseling between the two oldest brothers to have a look at Dick’s phone. “Smart advertising too. A scantily clad omega female sitting a pool with freshly groomed dogs? Good call. I bet those three have already been adopted.”

“Scantily clad?” Tim prods, doubly straining to maneuver around Dick.

Mercifully, however, this brings the picture show to an end. Dick huffs, glancing uncomfortably at Damian and tucking his phone away. Apparently, an actual twelve year old commenting on a woman’s state of dress is enough to upset his sensibilities.

Damian looks at Jason, eyes piercing and the same green as his own. He digs a hand into Dick’s bag of potato chips and says, “You should date her. She was attractive enough, and I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

The child is unblinking as he withdraws a handful of chips and begins to eat them while starting Jason down. He half expects the little fucker to wave his free hand and pull some Jedi mind trick gag, but remembers that Damian doesn’t do pop culture humor when Tim’s in the room.

Jason drops his sandwich on the naked stone counter as though he’s discovered mold. “Well, that’s it for me,” he says, edging toward the sunroom and the side door into the gardens. “I gotta’ go.”

#Jason Todd #Reader Insert #A/B/O Dynamics #Alpha Jason #Omega Reader #Batfam #Bat Family #DC Fanfic #My Jaybird #Shut up don't kinkshame me #Turns out I didn't die #I can still make content!#...Maybe #Ya girl is outta practice tho

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heartofether · 3 years

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Bonus Episode #4 - Irene's Inauguration TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[INTRO MUSIC PLAYS FOR SOME TIME BEFORE FADING OUT.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. THE BREAK ROOM, MIDDAY, AROUND LUNCH.]

[IRENE IS SITTING DOWN AT THE TABLE, WHILE ADEN IS LEANING OVER HER SHOULDER. THERE ARE VARIOUS OFFICE AMBIANCE NOISES HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

I don’t think I need your help setting it up, you know. I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to use an app.

ADEN

Sorry, sorry, I’m just—excited, you know? It feels like you’re about to take a big step, and I get to be the one to watch it happen.

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] As if this is a major life milestone.

ADEN

Hey, I think it is! In a way. You know? It’s not common for someone your age to not be active on social media—

IRENE

Hey.

ADEN

Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re like, joining the masses though. It’s like an inauguration.

IRENE

Yeah, sure. Whatever.

ADEN

And, I’d also like to witness the outcome of my months of pestering you.

IRENE

Hey! I kept saying I was going to—

ADEN

So have you come up with a username yet?

IRENE

Um, not really? I’m guessing just irenegray is taken.

ADEN

Mmmm, probably. If it helps at all, I added a word to my username that I thought sounded nice. Kind of like, something cool and aesthetic, you know?

IRENE

See, that’s part of the problem. You actively have an aesthetic you’re trying to maintain. I’m just kind of, you know. [SHE VAGUELY MOTIONS.]

ADEN

Hey, I think that’s great that you're authentically yourself and you don’t adhere to any restrictive subcultures.

IRENE

If you wanna call it that… honestly though I just hadn’t thought about it. I mean, you know I’m mostly doing this for you, right?

ADEN

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just pick a word you like and pair it with your name to see if it sounds nice! Maybe, like, an adjective?

IRENE

Hm. [SHE THINKS FOR A MOMENT, THEN] I kind of like the idea of it being something forest-themed.

ADEN

That would be cute! What if you did, like, the name of a tree? [BEAT] Ooh! You could do something like cedarirene, as in red cedars, you like those, right?

IRENE

[THINKING] I kind of like that, they’re pretty… [beat]

ADEN

[HE LAUGHS AT HIS OWN JOKE] Or you could do, like, irenefir, as in Douglas-fir? Those are pretty common in this part of the states.

IRENE

[SHE CHUCKLES, THEN, HUMS IN THOUGHT.] Yeah, I’m not sure I’m going for the Christmas tree route today.

ADEN

Hey, if you end up deciding you don’t like it, you can always change it later.

IRENE

That’s a good point. [BEAT] But I think cedarirene is good.

ADEN

I like it, too.

[A PAUSE AS SHE TYPES.]

ADEN

Then just add your email and password—don’t worry, I’ll look away for this part… [KEEPS TRAILING ON AS AN AFTERTHOUGHT WHILE IRENE TYPES] Even though I’m fairly certain it’s the same login info you use for everything… which you should really work on by the way, you know that really isn’t the most secure—

[MORE PHONE TYPING.]

IRENE

Got it.

ADEN

Then you’re done!

[A BEAT.]

IRENE

What do I do now?

ADEN

Now, you get to customize your profile. You know, add your name, your bio, a profile picture—oh, actually hold on, give me your phone real quick.

IRENE

Why?

ADEN

I want you to follow me! Here, just let me search for my username.

IRENE

[SHE CHUCKLES.] Sure. Go wild.

[ADEN IS HEARD TYPING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

ADEN

…and done. Oh, actually, while I’m here, I should have you follow Carol and Julia. [HE STARTS TYPING THEIR USERNAMES IN.]

IRENE

[IN SHOCK] Carol has Instagram?

ADEN

Uh, yeah.[beat] You seriously don’t understand just how behind you are, do you?

IRENE

[SHE GAPES IN FAUX-OFFENSE] You act like I’m withering away into a pile of dust just for not using social media.

ADEN

[GIGGLING] I’m kidding, Irene! I know lots of reasons why someone may want to go off the grid. I mean, social media can be kind of, er…

IRENE

A cruel and unjust place full of corporate marketing and unattainable standards?

ADEN

Yeah. Also, it can be kind of addicting for some people. So just, I mean I doubt you’ll have that problem since you don’t really seem to care, but just—be careful.

IRENE

Don’t worry, I doubt I’ll even use it that much.

ADEN

You better at least open the app every now and then. I want to send you stuff.

IRENE

[SHE LAUGHS.] I’ll keep notifications on for you, bud… If nothing else.

ADEN

Right, so, back to your profile. I’ll let you do whatever you want for this part. Oh, you should put your pronouns in your bio, though.

IRENE

Got it. [A PAUSE, THEN] Uh, what else should I put?

ADEN

Anything you want, really. Some people like to put their age, their job, sexuality, a fun fact about themselves.

IRENE

I mean, I don’t really want to share my entire personal life with the internet.

ADEN

Then don’t. Just put some totally random fun fact.

IRENE

Hm. Okay.

[A PAUSE AS IRENE TYPES.]

ADEN

Is that… did you actually drink three cups of coffee in less than one hour before?

IRENE

It was finals season.

ADEN

[CONCERNED] I can only drink one cup, and that still makes me shaky. Were you okay?

IRENE

Gonna be totally honest, I don’t remember a damn thing from those twenty-four hours.

[THERE’S A BRIEF PAUSE BEFORE THEY BOTH LAUGH FOR A FEW SECONDS.]

ADEN

[THROUGH FADING LAUGHTER] Okay, okay. Now you just need to set a profile pic.

IRENE

I mean, I don’t really take selfies ever.

ADEN

It doesn’t have to be a photo of your face. Do you have any pets?

IRENE

Not unless my dead betta fish from three years ago counts.

ADEN

Hm, okay. Some people just make it a color they like, or if you just have a nice photo in your camera roll you want to use, you could do that. Some people use characters they like, art pieces, pictures of buildings, yada, yada, yada. Just pick something.

IRENE

Where do you get all of your info about Instagram accounts, anyways?

ADEN

Oh, it was actually my minor in college. “Aesthetically Pleasing Profiles 101.”

[THEY BOTH LAUGH.]

ADEN

I’m joking, of course. It’s just…I don’t know, the internet was kind of a safe space for me for a while? When I first moved to Daughtler, I didn’t have many friends, and my constant state of anxiety was far from helpful. Online, I could be myself and find people with similar interests way easier than I could around town, without ever having to worry about my weird real-life mannerisms that might drive people away.

IRENE

[SINCERE] That makes a lot of sense. It’s good to have support like that. I, uh, probably could have used something like that in college, honestly. I just got kind of used to isolating myself after a while, I guess. [A BEAT.] Though, if it helps at all, I think you’re pretty cool offline, too.

ADEN

Thanks, Irene. [A BEAT.] So, about your profile pic.

IRENE

Do you think Carol would mind if I made it a picture of Mothman?

ADEN

I— [HE GIGGLES.] You know what? I think she’d think it’s cute. Do it.

[IRENE GIGGLES. SHE SETS THE PROFILE PIC.]

ADEN

Welcome to the digital world, Irene Gray.

IRENE

Please, I’m not a grandpa. I know how the internet works.

ADEN

I know, I know. I’m excited to see what you post, though.

IRENE

[THINKING] I honestly hadn’t given it much thought. I guess we’ll find out… if I remember to.

ADEN

Don’t think about it too hard, alright? Just be your authentic self.

IRENE

I’ll certainly try my best.

[PHONE BEEP.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: "Love is a leash that goes both ways."

Becca De La Rosa in Mabel, Episode 36, 2019.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

#heart of ether transcripts

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trashfor-imagines · 4 years

Text

My Senpai | 1

Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re Goshiki Tsutomu’s older doting sister, second year at Shiratorizawa and captain of the girl’s track & field team. At your brother’s first practice you sneak in to support him and end up meeting the impressive force that is his captain. Warnings: None.

[1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5]

Glancing at your wrist watch, you quickly wrapped up your end of practice stretches with your team. Getting up, you motioned for a towel from one of your team managers, a nice first year boy that the third year managers scouted. Track & field was a large sports club with many events, so it was necessary to have several managers to take care of all of the members. He quickly brought one over to you before taking a few steps back, blowing the whistle.

“Okay ladies! Great practice today. Please check your emails later for notes I’ll be sending out regarding what I saw from you all today. Everyone’s dismissed,” you announced, smiling at your team.

“Thank you captain!” they replied enthusiastically with smiles as they bowed, despite having practiced hard this afternoon. Your leadership ability was revered, having the reputation as the dream captain.

During your first year, you joined track and field. The captain at the time had gotten injured and had to leave the team. The vice captain had only joined because of the captain so they left the team as well. This led to the third years fighting tooth and nail for the position. It was like your older sister instincts kicked in and you managed to impress the club supervisor and coach as you led the first and second years, giving them guidance and earning their respect. The rest was history.

Wiping down with the towel, you rummaged through your practice bag, re-upped on your deodorant, and slipped your hoodie over your sports bra, before tossing the towel back to the first year manager, flashing him a smile and peace sign before running toward the volleyball gym. You slipped in between the door frame and the protective netting, keeping to the wall as you found a spot in the corner. It looked like they were getting ready to practice spikes when you came in. This was perfect! It was what your brother was best at.

You watched as everyone seemed to move like clockwork, perfectly in sync as they tossed, set, and spiked, one after another. It kept everything in you to not cheer when Tsutomu’s hand collided with the ball. You remembered when he was first interested in volleyball. He asked you to play with him and be his setter. You were his biggest fan ever since.

A deafening slam echoed throughout the gym, grabbing your attention. Your lips fell into a perfect O as you watched that hunky powerhouse captain land back on his feet, jogging back to get in line for another go. You’d only seen Ushijima in passing every blue moon. As a third year, his classes were in a different part of the school, you didn’t play the same sport, and as opposite genders you lived in different dorms. Every once in a while you’d see him at lunch, or early in the morning while you were on the field training you’d catch a glimpse of him leaving campus to run in town.

You spent the rest of volleyball practice switching between watching your brother and on your phone typing out those emails to your teammates. You were on your last email when the coach blew the whistle signaling end of practice. Quickly finishing up that email, you got to your feet and watched as the team cleaned up. You leaned against the wall and stretched your legs, hoping to take your brother out for dinner.

“Hey first year, aren’t you related to Goshiki (Y/N)?” Shirabu asked, spotting you hanging out in the corner.

Goshiki looked up and his eyes landed on you, his hair standing on end in surprise. “What’s she doing here?!”

Tendo let out a low whistle, nudging Semi and nodding over at you. “Take a look at her.”

Growling Goshiki glared daggers at his seniors before stomping his way over to you. You spotted your brother looking at you and grinned, giving him an enthusiastic wave. Your doting expression didn’t change as he approached wearing an upset expression.

“Aren’t you embarrassed dressed like that?” your brother growled at you, his face blushing.

Blinking twice, you glanced down at your clothes. Your practice clothing, similar to your track uniform, was far from modest, but practicing in clothes similar to what you competed in helped you keep your head in the game. You wore black bun huggers and a peach colored cut off cropped hoodie over your sports bra.

“My practice clothes? No. Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah!” he whispered harshly.

You laughed and ruffled his hair. “But Tsu, you’re not the one wearing this.”

“That’s not what I- Whatever!” He stormed off and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him go back to cleaning up the gym. You really loved your little brother.

When the team was done, you watched as they headed to the locker rooms. It was another thirty minutes or so before your brother came back out laughing with some of his teammates. His laughter slowly died when he noticed you were still there.

“What are you still doing here?” Goshiki asked.

You laughed lightly and decided to tease him. “How rude, Tsu. You’re not even going to introduce me to your teammates?”

His shoulders stiffened. “(Y/N), this is Tendo, Semi, Ohira, and Ushijima. Guys, this is my big sister.”

You exchanged pleasantries with them, asking what they thought of your little brother and what advice they had for him. Goshiki’s ears turned, but he stayed silent, wanting to know those same things as well. You took mental notes of everything they said. Your brother watched in awe as you easily conversed with his seniors about volleyball in-depth. Soon, Semi, Ohira, and Tendo excused themselves so you turned to your brother, breaking him from his thoughts as you reached up to rest a hand on his head, despite him being taller than you.

“I wanted to take you to dinner to celebrate first day of practices. Up for it?” Your loving smile never left your face. Though he was clearly frustrated by you, he couldn’t help return the smile.

Adjusting the bag on his shoulder he sighed, straightening up. “Not when you’re dressed like that. Call me when you’re dressed.” He excused himself and headed to the dorms.

Turning to Ushijima - who was surprisingly still there - you gave him a polite bow. “It was nice to meet you, senpai. Lets hang out sometime!” Standing back up, you smiled honestly at him, giving him a peace sign and running to the girl’s dormitory. Biting your lip, you slapped your palms to your cheeks. Adrenaline rushed through you as you felt your cheeks burn beneath your hands. You’d never spoken to an upperclassman boy like that before. Were you an idiot? Who even asks to hang out like that?

Keeping it quick, you showered and got dressed, throwing on a sweater and a mini skirt. Applying some light make up and slipping your feet into some fashionable sneakers, you called your brother to meet you at the school gates. When you spotted him waiting, you snuck up from behind before jumping on to his back. “Go, go, Tsu-to-mu!” you cheered, punching the air with one hand as you clung to him with the other.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” he groaned, acting as if you were heavy.

“You’re my strong little brother! Carry your big sister! I’m weak with age,” you claimed dramatically.

“Fine, then hold on!” He laughed and gave a small jump, adjusting you on his back before taking off down the street. The two of you were oblivious to the pair of eyes watching.

You took your brother to eat boiled flounder, his favorite. Without the attention of his teammates on him, he was so much more relaxed and natural with you.

“Hey Tsu, I’m really sorry if I embarrass you,” you sighed as the both of you walked back.

He turned a little red. “You don’t embarrass me. I just wish you told me you were coming to watch. And that you were wearing real pants when you met my teammates.”

“I understand. I promise to cover up more, but for you. You should really be more body positive, little brother. Hey! Treat your big sister to an ice cream.” You dragged him over to the 7-Eleven.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, but you wait outside. I’m not buying you everything in there,” he chided you for past behavior.

Pouting, you waited outside, sitting on an empty plastic crate. You tapped your toes against the pavement, sighing from boredom already. Closing your eyes, you wondered what was taking so long despite it not having been a minute since he’d gone in.

“Goshiki,” a voice sounded.

Opening an eye, you were surprised to see Ushijima standing in front of you. “Senpai, what are you doing out late?”

“Getting groceries,” he replied. “Are you going inside?”

“No. Tsu thinks I’ll try to get him to buy the whole store if I go in. He’s just inside getting ice cream.” Laughing lightly, you shook your head. When he didn't say anything or make to leave, you quirked a brow, your smile ever present. “Did you need anything from me?”

“You said we should hang out some time. You can join me at lunch tomorrow.” He spoke simply and direct. Your smile seemed to widen and he wondered how that was even possible; did it hurt to smile so much?

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

He nodded and went inside. A minute or two later, your brother came back, giving you your favorite strawberry yogurt popsicle. Your eyes lit up and you hugged his arm, happily walking with your brother to the dorms. He truly was the best sibling you could ever ask for.

“Hey Tsu? Don’t freak out, but Ushijima invited me to have lunch tomorrow.”

“What!?”

The next day, you did a little something different from the norm, tying a cute purple ribbon in your hair. There wasn’t much else you could do. Shiratorizawa was strict about the uniform, so you had to be subtle if you wanted to do something different, like shortening your skirt and varying the length of your socks.

Heating up some purple sticky rice rolls, you found your brother and handed him one, walking with him to the school building. Bee-lining to your classroom, you sat and ate your breakfast, day dreaming about how lunch would be like today.

Once lunch came around, you headed to the cafeteria. Your fellow students and members of the track team waved and greeted you as you passed in the halls and on campus.

“Senpai!” One of the first years from track team waved you over from their place in the lunch line. “Please senpai, go ahead of me.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” You waved your hands and laughed.

“No, please senpai! Go ahead. It would make us happy,” another chimed in. Two others in ear shot also gave their approval and you laughed.

You never really thought of yourself as popular, but you knew you were well liked. Life rewards you with great things if you are genuine; just show some kindness. That’s what your grandfather told you once when you were little. Nothing ever proved him wrong so you stuck with it.

“Only this once okay? I can wait in line like everyone else from now on.”

Sniffing the aroma of food happily, you smiled as you stared at your tray. They had hayashi rice as an option! You bid the younger students a goodbye as you walked through the cafeteria looking for the volley boys, having to stop and say hello every once in a while. Your brother spotted you and waved you over.

“Good afternoon, boy’s volleyball club.” Your expression was calm and cheerful as always. A laugh escaped you as Semi and Tendo pushed each other away, making room for you between them and across from your brother. Ushijima was a couple of people down from Tsutomu.

Your brother went to introduce you but Ushijima stood, gaining his team’s attention. “This is Goshiki’s sister. She’s joining us for lunch. Please treat her well.” With that said, he sat back down and returned to eating.

“Please call me (Y/N). Thank you for inviting me.” You gave a bow before sitting down, relaxing your smile and expressing content as you listened and joined in the conversation around you happily. You caught Ushijima’s eye and you smiled brightly at him. His face stayed neutral and you only wondered what he thought about.

Tendo had gotten you into a conversation about horror films. You felt a heavy shadow hang over you as he went into the lore and real life basis for some of these films and it had your hands shaking. You hated horror films, but you weren’t a wimp. This was just a conversation after all. You wouldn’t get haunted from just talking about a film. Right?

Your watch pinged and you glanced at the time. You had to leave for gym class. Your teacher expected everyone to be dressed and stretching by the time class began so you needed a head start.

“Excuse me everyone, I have go to. Thanks for today!” you spoke, standing and giving a polite bow to the table. You slid your untouched food tray - you’d been so caught up in conversation you didn’t even eat - over to your brother and smiled. “Eat up, Tsu.”

Throwing him a peace sign, you ran off to the girl’s locker rooms. There was a notice that your class would be swimming so you dressed in the school’s uniform maroon one piece. You neatly French braided your hair as you headed to the school’s pool. You loved gym class. It was just extra practice time for you. Honestly, if you could just train all day instead of going to lessons and studying, you would. Shiratorizawa really catered to their athletes when they organized the students’ classes.

Settling down, you started on stretches, other female students filing in not long after. You supposed they separated gym class by gender for some misogynistic reason based on tradition, but you were almost thankful for it. The girls were way more relaxed in your opinion when they weren’t trying to impress a boy. The lesson mostly focused on the four swim strokes and when it was over you headed back to the locker rooms for a shower.

A low whistle caught your attention as you were about to walk in to the girl’s locker room. Tendo stood at the entrance to the boy’s locker room with Ushijima, smiling cheekily at you. The volleyball captain’s expression was still neutral as ever. “Man I wish we had swim class today, Wakatoshi!”

“We did weightlifting,” Ushijima responded to Tendo plainly. “You should tell the teacher if you want to swim.”

“That’s not what I meant, Waka! Are you blind?”

Ushijima’s brow furrowed slightly. “My vision is fine.”

“Tendo senpai! It’s not nice to tease. Someone could think you’re a predator.” You laughed and threw your wet towel at the third year redhead who caught it easily. Before much else could be said, you smiled at Ushijima before hurrying into the showers, ready to be free of that chlorine smell.

You had a free period before practice so you decided studying would be a good break. It was no good to over do it and hurt yourself before the first track meet. Heading to the dorms, you did dress in your track practice clothes, the same style you wore yesterday, and packed a bag with your study materials. You made your way to the bleachers, sitting beneath them in their shade and settling in for the next hour and a half.

At some point you were lying down in the grass and enjoying the occasional breeze, reading The Dancing Girl by Mori Ougai, one of the required readings for your Japanese class, when the sound of foot sets approached. Peeking over the top of your book, you felt yourself smile automatically at seeing Ushijima standing there.

“Senpai, what brings you over here?” you asked, marking the page in your book and setting it aside. You leaned back on your hands, keeping your upper body propped up, and crossed your long legs at the ankle. “Would you like to sit with me? It’d make me happy if you would.”

“Would it?” he asked, taking a seat in the grass next to your feet and facing you, almost mirroring your body.

“Very much, senpai.”

“You may call me Ushijima, or Wakatoshi.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “But what if calling you senpai makes me happy?” It was subtle, but his brow twitched. He seemed unsure of how to reply so you continued. “I know, I’ll only call you my senpai on special occasions. How does that sound?”

A faint pink colored his cheeks and you were satisfied at the sight. He nodded without a word. Smiling, you scooted forward and closer to him, sitting with your legs crossed. Your bare thigh touched his hand and you desperately hoped that he’d take the hint. He didn’t move away, but he also didn’t say anything, simply staring into your eyes.

“So what did you need?” you asked softly.

“We didn’t speak at lunch.”

“Is this your way of making up for that?” He nodded and you smiled at his response. “It’s such an honor. I feel special.”

“You didn’t eat.”

Your brows raised and a blush crossed your cheeks. Mustering a smile, you laughed a little. “It happens sometimes. I get busy talking and just forget.”

“It’s not healthy. As an athlete, you should do better to take care of yourself.” Reaching into his coat pocket, he held out a protein bar to you. “Eat this.”

Studying the bar in his hand for a moment, you accepted it from him. “Thank you. I’ll try to do better then, Captain.”

“I’ll wait for you to finish it before we talk.”

Blinking, you laughed again, tearing into the wrapper and eating it in front of him. You openly checked him out while you ate, not even attempting to be sly. You studied his face, his neck and shoulders to his upper arms, his chest and abdomen. Licking your lips subconsciously, your gaze lingered on his thick, muscular thighs, before flicking up to meet his gaze, a cute and innocent expression on your face. Your watch beeped and you sighed softly.

“All done, my senpai. Unfortunately, I also have to start practice.” Tossing your things into your bag, you got up, offering him a hand. “Let’s do this again.”

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #fanfic #reader insert #imagine #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu #shiratorizawa #volleyboys #my senpai

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thexam-union · 3 years

Text

Newcoming

Another new person on the island? Oh my! Maybe this is why we had another person kicking around than there were files for. But introducing Arcturus, keeper for Quantum! :>

Length: 1171 Words

General Overview: Arcturus bumps into Fomalhaut and gets on the Sector register in a very chill way. No stress for anyone involved.

Warning(s): No triggering content present.

( If you need anything else tagged/forewarned about let me know!! )

The weather in Lost City was always pleasant, the sun beaming down on the cracked walking tiles around each of the small projects in the area. Arcturus yawned as she walked out by a favourite haunt of hers, not expecting someone sitting on the hill to point their telescope directly at her. With a newfound sense of presence, Arcturus looked down at herself to see what attracted the attention, as if her bright red hair, pastel blue dress and pastel pink undershirt weren’t enough to warrant it.

“Hi, do I know you?” They asked, although Arcturus could easily ask the same thing. They didn’t think anyone came out here, and now there was suddenly someone here? That was a bit strange, but she’d deal with it. Hopefully social skills haven’t gone too rusty.

“I don’t think we’ve met, no. I’m Arcturus, I look after the garden down here.” She gestured behind her to Quantum with a smile, as the stranger nodded. They were wearing a button-up - white, with a half-done dark blue tie and a black choker - and had hair that went from a salmon pink to a deep twilight purple for her bangs, and a light cyan at the back. Arcturus got a little closer and started up the hill, beaming the whole time. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Fomalhaut. I didn’t know anyone even had that as a project around here.”

“I didn’t know there were other people.” Arcturus shrugged with a half-laugh. “I love this little spot, though, so I think it’s just a right place time thing.”

“Seems that way! I mean, I’ll be honest, I don’t really know anyone in here particularly well, so I’m sorry if I came across as rude.” Arcturus sat down on the grass at the top of the hill.

“Don’t worry about it, Fo - Can I call you Fo? - I’m sure we can get to know each other well.”

“Yeah! And if you want to. It’s cute.” Fomalhaut put the telescope back on its tripod, looking over at a smaller island in the distance. Arcturus didn’t know what was going on, but was more than happy to support Fomalhaut’s interest. Even more so since this was their first friend on the Island! “So you have a project name, but I’ve never seen you around. How does that happen?”

“Search me. I just stick to myself, but now I know there’s people, I’m going to try my best to actually talk to people. It gets lonely out here.”

“You’re telling me. I spend a lot of my time in Amity, do you want to go touring around so you can meet people? I’m sure Volans - they’re in charge of this whole thing - will be happy to meet you. And put you on the books, it sounds like.”

“I’d love to. Lead the way.”

With a smile and a nod, Fomalhaut picked up their tripod and telescope, packing both away into a case with a clearly practiced motion. The case was a rich blue - matching their tie - and had silver paint on it outlining a few constellations. The paint was showing signs of fading with time, but that was mostly to be expected. The walk was rather straightforward, too, taking between five and ten minutes, though halfway through it felt like wading through an old batch of treacle for a moment as even the weather front felt revolted by the change, changing to a harsher mizzling rainfall.

“Is the weather always like this?”

“Most of the time.” Fomalhaut nodded, gesturing to a relatively shallow hill with quite a large building on top. “We just have to get up there, though.”

“I see! I will say, a lot of the buildings here look a bit…” Arcturus let her tone do the talking, but Fomalhaut nodded a little.

“You must be new, Amity’s been like this since just after I came back.” Fomalhaut said with a short laugh. “And that happened almost two decades ago, now. That was a weird couple of years, back in… Four, ish? But you’re not the first person to just randomly show up this week, so I’m sure Volans would be really accepting, I won’t worry about them. They don’t get angry, either, just a bit stressed.”

“Yeah? How come?”

“Okay, so, you probably know Polaris, but when he went he left a really awful-looking archive of staff files, so Volans has taken it upon themselves to rewrite each one individually. They’ve already found people that legally don’t exist, you’re kind of just one of many, so no pressure.”

“That’s really not ideal, though. I don’t to be a nuisance.”

“From what I’ve heard about someone else who’s just showed up randomly? You can’t do worse than him if you’re concerned about being a pain.” Fomalhaut laughed a little, “From what I’ve heard - I tend to roam and Vo’s a good friend of mine so I hear all the things - he’s awful. I’m so glad that we’re both in Lost City, since he’s off in the Jungle.”

“He seems like a pain.” Fomalhaut knocked on a door that had “Sound Technician” on an engraved plate inside what appeared to be a radio building in a great deal of disarray.

“Come in.” Fomalhaut opened the door for Arcturus with a smile and nod, before putting down their case and giving her two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Take a seat.”

“Hi! I got told to come here to go on the register because I might not legally exist?” Arcturus laughed a little bit, taking note of the office.

“Right.” The person on the other side of the desk started typing at a computer. “I assume you knew Polaris at least in passing, so you understand that the files here are nowhere near as nice as I’d prefer them to be. I’m Volans, current Sector leader.”

“Yeah, organisation really was a luxury. It’s good to meet you Volans, I’m Arcturus. In charge of Quantum.” There was a smile, a couple more nods, and more typing. Significantly faster. “I don’t really get out much, but I do prefer your energy to Polaris. A lot more hands-on.”

“Thank you. You came in with Fomalhaut, so you know you’re already based around Lost City. I’d recommend you explore and get to know the others on the Island, things have changed a lot since Polaris left the position.”

“I see. Well, thank you. Can I ask Fomalhaut for the tour?”

“Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. I’ve also set up a few things for you, so I’ll just send that to print. Just a contact email, my details and other lines of communication. Normally I’d recommend Kalausi, but if you’d rather go with Fomalhaut, I won’t stop you.”

“Great! That’s wonderful, I’ll be going then. I’ll see you around, right?”

“Most likely. Make sure to go to the break room to pick up the printout.” There was a smile in Arcturus’ direction as she stood up and left the office, Fomalhaut waiting outside relatively patiently. Time to go!

#theme park oc #fic #thorpe park ocs #🖋️ } Beltrame's Writing #⛰️ } The Island Like No Other #🎠 } Beltrame's Jesters #🎡 } The Travellers #🖼️ } Lost City #🌊 } Amity Cove #🔅 } Quantum #🌟 } Zodiac #🐠 } Flying Fish #🦁 } Arcturus #🔭 } Fomalhaut #🐠 } Volans

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starker-stories · 4 years

Text

The Dick Pic (v2)

On AO3 by @thestarkerisobvious and @starker-stories

When we first posted this story, it was helpfully pointed out that the beginning was confusing in relation to the rest of it. And it was. Thank you for that constructive criticism.

We went back to the original and reworked it. Hopefully it will be less confusing and the point of their argument more clear.

There was debate back and forth between deleting the original post or leaving both up. We finally decided on leaving both up.

Words: 9815

Tags: Misunderstandings, Dick Pics, College Student Peter Parker, Top Tony Stark, Bottom Peter Parker, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Awkward Conversations

Summary:

One picture.

Two different interpretations of the picture.

One restaurant.

Two people, trying to make themselves understood.

One balcony

Two bodies.

It was a beautiful morning. Peter had actually gotten a full night’s sleep. He was sleeping in his dorm room because Tony was away on business and wouldn’t be back for a few days.

He had awoken from a lovely dream. About Tony, of course. But about Tony when they had been together in Paris. In the dream Tony asked him what he wanted. And Tony gave him everything he asked for. In Paris, Tony told him to be bold. To ask for things that he wanted.

In the dream, as he had in Paris, he shamelessly asked Tony to go down on him. When he woke, his body was more than ready for Tony to do just that. But Tony wasn’t there. Peter was in his dorm room, alone.

He couldn’t have what he wanted that moment, of course. But… he could still ask. Tony liked it when he asked…

It was bold, probably too bold for him. Then again, Tony had encouraged him to be bold. So he boldly took his phone out and took a picture of the subject at hand.

Oh, that was shameless. He blushed, just looking at the picture. Quickly he typed:

Thinking of you.

He thought of several other things he could add to go along with the picture (‘Would you like to taste?’ or ‘Mostly about your mouth’) but in the end he chickened out of every one. In the end, he just hit send. That was enough bold for one day.

He spent the next hour grinning and blushing. He was proud, but he couldn’t tell anybody why. There was no one on campus close enough to announce: ‘Today I sent my very first dick pic’.

~~~~~

Tony looked at the picture Peter had sent with his message. ‘Thinking of you’. Yes, but what thoughts had Peter been thinking?

Well, he had told Peter that he could ask for anything. He wanted to hear every one of Peter’s sexual desires. He didn’t know why he expected that reversing their positions and Peter fucking him wouldn’t be one of them. Things weren’t as neatly defined in Peter’s generation. He’d been with enough younger men to know that.

And he’d broken up with enough of them when it became an issue.

He supposed that a few months was a good run, given his record. After the picture and message, he stopped taking Peter’s calls and any other messages. Whenever he regretted his decision to let Peter go, he simply opened his phone to that last picture.

He missed the kid so much that, a time or two, he considered whether he could tolerate getting fucked just to get Peter back. He’d tried that before, though. Tolerating it once led to twice led to three times led to asks and refusals and arguments and the inevitable breakup that should’ve happened at the start of it all.

Letting Peter’s calls go to voicemail unlistened to and leaving his messages completely unread was easier. The kid would move on and find someone willing to satisfy his needs.

But that was the problem. The kid would move on. The idea of that put such a dull ache deep inside him that he found his finger hovering over the green button whenever Peter called.

That would never do. This wasn’t something that could be talked about over the phone. It was definitely something that couldn’t be talked about anywhere that was near a bed. That led to disaster. And unfortunately, his feelings for Peter weren’t going away by simply ‘ghosting’ the boy. Tony texted Peter. Dinner? 8? Marea? It was his favorite restaurant. They’d been there together before. It might seem like it was going to be nothing more than a make-up date.

~~~~~

Peter’s last two weeks had been a strange kind of slow-motion nightmare. Sometimes everything was normal. He aced his classes. He wowed his study groups. He texted his friends and his friends texted back. Then he would try to set up a date with his boyfriend. He spoke to FRIDAY. FRIDAY would be cheerful as always, explaining why Tony couldn’t talk to him right then. Then he would text ‘I miss you’ and wait to hear some response. Finally giving up and going to bed. Wake up in the morning and start the entire miserable process over again.

He kept thinking about Paris. Their trip to Paris was memorable for so many reasons. Not just because Tony set out to spoil Peter rotten with fine wine, good food, and crowded sightseeing spots closed down just for them, but because of what they did in the hotel bedroom that night.

Tony had invited Peter into his bed, and had invited him there to do more than just fuck. But what Tony had invited him there to do, Peter wasn’t completely sure was possible. But it was possible. Peter had opened up to Tony that night. Told him things he hadn’t told anyone, had no plans to tell anyone.

He would never forget Tony’s words. ‘I brought you here because it’s the most romantic city in the world. Because it’s what I think of when I look at you. I think of how much I’m in love with you, and how much I want to make you happy.’

Peter was happy. He was lying on a bed in a hotel room in Paris, with Tony Stark sitting next to him, saying ‘I love you’. What else could any human being want? It wasn’t expensive gifts, the exclusive restaurants, or the limo rides everywhere. That was Tony’s life, and he was inviting Peter to be a part of it. Peter freely accepted that invitation.

‘I want you’, he told Tony when the man asked what he wanted.

‘And I want you’, Tony said back. Only then he asked, ‘But how do you want me?’

Peter remembered saying, ‘Forever’.

And Peter remembered Tony saying, ‘Only that long?’

So he told himself he was being ridiculous. He trusted Tony. As Spider-Man, he trusted Iron Man with his life. As Peter Parker, he trusted Tony Stark enough to tell him things he had never told anyone. He was in love. He just had to remember that he was in love with an incredibly busy man. Dating Tony meant sharing him with the rest of the world. “I’ll just be patient,” he told himself. “I’ll be the most patient boyfriend that ever lived.”

Sometimes he wondered why he was so utterly and thoroughly unlovable. Why would Tony want to date a kid like him? A kid with so little sexual experience, a kid who had admitted to an entire, itemized list of fears? He was unlovable. Tony was proof.

Tony had been his first serious boyfriend (serious boyfriend? Tony had been his only boyfriend.) Sometimes he convinced himself that he would just live like a monk, a monk who fought crime and worshiped a far-off, unavailable man. It wasn’t the strangest superhero backstory in the world.

Sometimes Peter was angry. He had admitted to things, admitted to things he never thought he would tell anybody. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And what had been his reward? To be ghosted by Tony Stark, apparently.

But Tony hadn't broken up with him, that much was certain. Peter checked his email, his phone messages, every social media account he had a million times. Checked them every morning. Sometimes got up and checked them in the dead of the night. Waiting. Waiting for the explanation that would never come.

Almost two weeks to the day, he received the message. His whole body sagged in relief. He hugged his phone to his chest tightly and did a little dance. Grinned from ear to ear. It was okay. They were going to Marea and everything was going to be okay.

~~~~~

Slowly, very slowly, Peter was getting the idea that everything was not okay.

They were seated to Tony’s usual table. Menus and orders taken, wine brought and served. During which Tony was near silent, making only the barest conversation that politeness required. Not only to the servers, but to Peter as well.

When the meal arrived, Peter realized he was going to have difficulty eating. His stomach was in knots. Something was obviously wrong.

“Pete,” Tony said casually, after he finished another bite. “What did you mean by that last picture you sent me?”

“Oh, I meant that I was going to not be late for our lab session because I whipped through my differential equations test in record time and I was actually ten minutes early? Except you weren't in the lab?”

Tony looked puzzled. “No. The last picture you sent. What were you trying to imply by that? Something you want?”

“I guess… I guess I was…” Peter dropped his eyes. “I guess I was bragging that I finished it faster than anyone in the class. The professor said it was faster than anyone he had ever seen and asked me to be his TA next year…

“I mean I wasn’t bragging… but I was. And you didn’t notice.”

“It sure looked like you were bragging. And wanting something other than an A on your exam.”

“In differential equations? We’re talking about Tuesday, right?” Peter took out his own phone and looked for the last pic he sent — which was from differential equations.

“I don’t know the date… I guess it was a Saturday or a Sunday. Maybe Sunday morning… yeah I think Sunday morning and you don’t have differential equations on a Saturday, so no, not that… Did you send me something about that too?”

“Something about… what?” Peter reached out and snatched Tony’s phone from where he set it on the corner of the table. He had prided himself on his patience this week, but his patience was coming to an end. He opened the message app, found his name, and scrolled to the end of the messages, then back to find the ones that had pictures attached. A cute squirrel in Central Park, a sunset behind Stark tower from the top of another building that he took just to text ‘I Miss You’. Finally, the finished test he’d mentioned twice. The one Tony hadn’t even acknowledged.

“There are things that haven’t come up before between us. And we haven’t exactly talked about the things that have come up between us. And that would be a pretty large thing to discuss. What exactly did you mean by sending me that picture?”

“Are we talking about the picture of the spider I sent?” Peter asked, scrolling again. “You never told me you were squicked out by spiders. I’m just a spider fan. You knew that. Everyone expected me to be an entomologist.” He shrugged, guiltily. “I just like math more.”

Finally, Tony grabbed his phone back. He scrolled through the messages until he found the one. He set his phone upside down on the table so no one else could see, then he slid it over to Peter.

Peter looked at it, started visibly, looked around to make sure no one saw it, then he grinned and ducked his head and blushed. Damn, he had felt so bold when he woke up with that in the morning. What was he thinking?

Oh yeah — he had been thinking…

“Well, you’re always telling me how pretty it is…”

“I’m into a lot of things, but there are some I’m not thrilled about.”

“I had a dream about you,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard. “And I woke up thinking about you, and that was the result.”

“What kind of dream are we talking about? There wasn’t exactly a clear message with it.”

Peter looked confused. He started to speak then stopped. This was very hard to talk about in a restaurant. So he considered the possibilities. He grabbed his own phone and started texting quickly.

Was that really your first dick pic? I’m sorry I never thought. You were the first person to even walk AROUND with a phone in your pocket so I just didn’t think. I’m sorry. All you had to do was say you didn’t want that. Did you open it in a meeting or something?

It was ridiculous to sit there and text someone two feet away. Tony had no shame about talking about the issue in public.

“No, that’s not the first dick pic I’ve ever been sent. The angle and the way you were holding it… that is a first time without implying something by it.”

Peter put his phone down in frustration. He remembered exactly the kind of mood he had been in when he had taken that picture. Bold as brass. Fearless. Amazing. He didn't feel amazing right now. “I can’t really answer that question in a restaurant.

“But... remember when you took me to Paris? It was about Paris. Well it was sort of Paris... but yeah. That’s what it was about.” He tried not to sound hurt, but he was feeling hurt. How hard was it to say ‘don’t send me dick pics’? And why was Tony ignoring everything that came after that?

“Look, there are things I’m just not into,” Tony said firmly, irritated by the kid’s inability to comprehend. “If that’s what you're going to be needing out of this, you’re gonna have to find it elsewhere.”

Peter pulled his chair up to the table as far as he could and leaned in, whispering. “It implies you want to see it. Because you keep telling me you like to see it.”

His chest ached. It hurt to breathe. What Tony had said to him, and convinced him to say, in Paris meant so much to him. He’d never forgotten it. And he could never discuss it in a restaurant.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. You’ve got a big, nicely shaped cock and I don’t mind seeing it. Like seeing it, actually. But that picture was… different from the dick pics I usually get.”

Tony flipped his phone face up, the picture clearly visible to anyone walking past their table. At that point, making Peter feel uncomfortable was almost part of it. The kid certainly made him uncomfortable the morning he got that. Especially after the way things had been going so well between them.

Peter tried desperately not to gape. It was instinct, not to let your opponent know when you were hurt in battle. But dammit, he was hurt. “‘Things I’m just not into’? Squirrels, sunsets and spiders? Or, more importantly, ‘the things you think about during the day, and your triumphs and proud moments’? Because once upon a time, Tony, you seemed to care about those things a great deal.”

But now words like ‘angle’ and ‘holding it’ and ‘different’ began to register. Suddenly, he found himself getting angry.

“Give me your damn phone.” He grabbed it off the table.

He scrolled through Tony’s phone wondering if someone else was sending Tony dick pics. In which case he was really going to lose his patience. But no, there it was. His cock. Huge and lovely and hard. Hard because he was remembering the incredible things Tony had done to him in Paris. Huge because he had, with his sudden surge of confidence, placed the phone directly beside it. What could he say? He had woken up feeling cocky.

He didn’t feel cocky now. He put the phone in his lap, shielding it from other eyes, and analyzed the angle.

“I haven’t exactly been answering my messages or downloading the photos attached to them lately, so forgive me if I’ve had an entirely different subject on my mind than squirrels and differential equations."

“Well, we haven't talked in two weeks, so I have no idea what’s been on your mind,” Peter hissed.

Patience. Patience patience patience. He could swallow all this hurt and pretend it wasn’t there, he was a master at that. He was good at it. (He had practice.) But right now he was looking at the picture of what he’d wanted Tony to praise (right before devouring it) and wondering if that was ever going to happen again.

“That,” Tony said when Peter had taken his phone off the table again. “That’s been on my mind. Hard to get anything else on my mind. What, exactly, did you mean by sending me that? Because, like I said, if you want to fuck my ass, you’re going to have to find somebody else’s ass to fuck.” He shrugged. “Which, I can work with, I guess. Not the first open relationship I've had to have because of differing sexual appetites.”

“It’s a right angle, Tony. 90°. It’s just… you used to say it was ‘so pretty’ and you… wanted it in your mouth. And I woke up dreaming of the things you said to me in Paris before you… before we… and I woke up. And I was thinking about you. That’s what I wrote. That’s what I meant by…

“…wait… what? Tony for god’s sake… Tony? Only you would try to have this conversation in a restaurant.”

“It’s not a problem. Guys grow up and have different tastes when they do. It’s not like I didn't have a fair number of experiences in that direction when I was younger.

“It’s just not my… not interested in that anymore. Haven’t been for a very long time. And I don't see myself particularly wanting to get fucked any time soon. Not even by you, sorry.”

“You have a fair number of experiences debating the angle of my penis over dinner in a restaurant!?” Peter laughed, overwhelmed by the surreality of the conversation. “You were right, Tony — your life was a lot different than mine.”

“Well actually, not your penis. but not the first one I’ve discussed over dinner in a restaurant. Usually as a prelude to heading to the bathroom with the other guy in said restaurant. But that’s not the point.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about!” Peter whispered angrily. Except he wasn’t exactly whispering anymore. This was the strangest conversation he had ever had in his life. He was beginning to lean into the strange.

“Oh my god. One minute I’m working up the nerve to admit that I still dream about what happened in Paris and the next minute we’re discussing why it’s wrong that I want to… I don’t even know what. This is insane.”

Tony just shook his head. He was being pretty clear, he thought. “We’re talking about whether or not you want to fuck me, that’s what we’re talking about. Because that’s just not something I’m into. But if it’s something you’re into, I’ve got no trouble with you finding it elsewhere. Well, actually I do, but I’m prepared to adjust my expectations.

“Wait…” Tony furrowed his brow. “Paris? What the fuck does this have to do with me sucking you off?”

“I’m sorry I sent you the wrong kind of dick pic and I have no idea why you think I was thinking of that, but I’m just about at the end of my rope. I’m in over my head here.”

“The only time I’ve ever gotten a picture like that was from someone who had very different ideas about my sexual tastes. It’s pretty much a ‘sit on this’ pic, don’t you think?”

There were tears behind Peter’s eyes. All of his talks to himself about ‘patience’ were drying up. He didn’t have it in him to explain what Paris had meant to him, at least not in a public place. Maybe in the dark, in Tony’s arms, maybe. But not while the man was spouting nonsense.

He took a deep breath. “No, Tony. It was a, you told me it was ‘gorgeous’ pic. It was a, you told me you ‘want to suck on it’ pic. For god’s sakes Tony, you told me once you wanted me to c… to leave a wet spot on your bed for you to find when you got home. I’m sorry about your past lovers but I’m not really responsible for them. I’m only responsible for myself.” His voice broke a little. He wasn't feeling very responsible right now.

Dammit, he had done everything right. He had been the proper amount of sexy and tried to hide all the shyness. He had tried to be bold when Tony wanted him to be bold. He had been patient. He had been positive. He was even attempting to have this incredibly personal conversation in a public place because Tony wanted to. He had done his best. But his best wasn’t good enough.

“Jesus Peter, how many different ways do I have to tell you this. I love you. I love what we do in bed together. There are directions I’m willing to expand into that and explore, but me getting fucked isn’t one of them. It’s not something I’m into. It wasn’t even something I was into back when I was young enough that that was all anyone wanted me to do. It’s just that’s the way it goes when you’re the age I was then. But eventually you get old enough to tell the other guy ‘no, I’d rather fuck you instead’. So, if you’re getting to that age, we’re going to have to talk in terms of how you can get what you want in that direction, because it isn’t going to be me.”

Tony had been keeping his voice calm and quiet the whole time, not even letting his exasperation come through in any way except his word choices. Peter was a smart kid, surely he understood the words that were being said.

Peter pressed his water glass against his face. He knew his skin was flushed and he felt overheated. He took the napkin from his lap and dipped it in the ice water and dabbed his forehead. It was probably a rude thing to do in this expensive restaurant, but what the hell? It couldn’t be worse than discussing the angle of the dick pic on Tony’s phone.

He took a deep breath and tried to say something that made sense. “Well, I guess I should say thank you for thinking that I’m old enough to be changing my tastes… I guess. If that’s really a thing you outgrow. But this is all coming out of left field for me.”

Taking another deep breath he thought back over what Tony had said. “And I love you too. I’m sorry people did things to you when you were young that you didn’t like. But if this is a ‘stage’ for me, a ‘stage’ I’m going to ‘grow out of’, I’d estimate you have another good ten to twenty years before that happens. I can’t see ever getting tired of it. But I guess you know better than I do… except…

“Except…” he said, looking back into Tony’s face. He could talk about science. Science was easy.

“Except it seems like you think we are both going to have the same experience, and the data doesn’t point that way. The data doesn’t point at all. You’re talking about societal expectations versus actual personal preference and there’s no reason to assume I’m going to ‘grow out’ of being… who I am.”

“It’s not a thing some people outgrow, but others do. There’s a certain expectation that the younger person bottoms, but then, as they start getting older, they find out that’s not really their thing. Or that they’d been putting up with it because they were expected to, even if they didn't like it much… or at all.

“Other guys don’t outgrow it. They’re just that way. Which is what I was hoping it would be with you. Because, if you wanted to, if it was a dealbreaker and you’d leave me over it… I guess… it’s not unendurable if it wasn’t often.”

Deep breaths and factual statements were helping incredibly. Tony’s voice was calm and that helped too. Speaking calmly and factually about these things means that things were actually okay — they could talk about more personal, painful things later. In private. Hopefully while naked.

“Well, I appreciate that your generation couldn’t exactly go to the library and do as much research as I did when I first identified as gay, so there's that…

"But, help me out, Tony. I sat down at dinner and suddenly you start talking about me ‘leaving you’ and I’ve got whiplash here. Literally the last thing I sent you was a picture of a squirrel.”

Tony raised his eyebrow. Peter was always a quick study and never this blindingly obtuse. Maybe it was the subject. He needed it explained more simply and perhaps repeatedly.

“Some guys are bent in one direction and others in the opposite. I’m pretty much bent only in one direction. I knew that the odds of you staying bent in yours weren’t great. Most guys fall in the more flexible position. I’m just saying that I’m not one of them. But if you are, as long as you didn’t have any sort of… emotional bond with whoever you hooked up with… I’d… adjust.

“This isn’t something even your generation goes to look up in the library, Because most of your generation is more flexible. It’s assumed that you both will, I don’t know, toss a coin for it, I suppose. I don't know how it works.

“The implications of what you sent kind of overrode my reaction to one of your daily messages of the sort I like getting from you.”

Peter opened his mouth but then closed it again. He looked at Tony’s face, and he stopped completely and took stock. He thought about the damn squirrel. He thought about how he aced the test that he wanted to brag about. And he thought about waking up with a raging hard-on and the need to brag about that too. And he thought about how much it hurt when Tony seemed to be ignoring him and what that meant. He took a deep breath, looked Tony in the eye, and spoke.

“I don’t want to ‘hook up’ Tony. With anybody. I don’t think you understand… it’s not that way for me. I don’t want to be with other people. I guess I should have told you that before. I don’t want to… even if there was someone else I actually wanted to… I don’t want to be with anyone else. I love you. I want…”

It would have been hard for Peter to do this in the dark, in Tony's arms. But dammit, this was Tony’s world. The world where you just have these conversations in the open. So he did it. For Tony. “I want to be yours. I want to belong to you.”

Of course, he barely got the words out. It was hard to talk without air. But his mouth formed around the words, which was something.

“I want the same thing. I love you, Peter. I love what we do in bed together. But, in bed, there are things I don’t love. Even if I do love the person who’s asking for them. That is what I’m saying.”

Being told what Tony wanted was almost as good as being held, so he held onto those words. And the words ‘I love you’. He took a deep breath, relieved, and tried to listen to the rest of what Tony was saying.

“All I need for us to be together is for you to understand…” He looked down at his phone, thinking about that doomed message that was supposed to be about Paris and wound up being about something else entirely. “…this is all very important to me, Tony. I guess I shouldn’t be ashamed of it, but I am, because I’m supposed to be all casual about some things and I can’t be. I don’t want to be with anyone else. And of course… I want to be in your life. I want that more than anything else.”

“I don’t like to share. Not you. Especially not you,” Tony said, admitting an inconvenient truth. The truth that led him to making this date instead of simply continuing to ‘ghost’ Peter until he went away.

“Which is also not in keeping with the way people of your generation approach things, I know. You’re not the first guy under thirty that I’ve been with. I know things have changed a lot. What’s expected of relationships. Inflexibility and possessiveness are definitely not the mode. But they’re where I’m at and it’s hard to see me changing that. I’m possessive. I don’t want to share the person I’m in love with, that I want in my life… for the rest of it.”

“I don’t want you to share… I don’t want to be shared! And I know I’m not normal for my generation or for my anything… and I tried so hard to… gosh maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe I need to stop trying to be ‘normal’. I don’t see why I have to change. I just want to belong to you. I don’t want… I’m not interested in ‘hook ups’ and I’m tired of pretending that I… that I get it. I don’t. I can’t see being with someone and not… well you know. Blurting out everything I feel. I can’t really stop.”

“Baby, I am in love with you. And that doesn’t come without the possessive part. It’s worse with you though. Maybe because I’ve never really… felt this with anyone else. Not like this. Not like I feel with you.”

“Wait…” Peter stopped, the pieces suddenly falling together in his head. “Did you… did you just really volunteer to bottom for me?”

Tony sighed heavily.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you in my life. Like I said, it won’t have been the first time I’ve been fucked. I just never liked it. Not even when I was your age. It was just the way things were back then. Before a certain age, you were expected to bottom. And past a certain age, you were expected to change and to want to top.

“I wanted to be with guys and if that meant turning up my ass to get the rest of what I was looking for, I did it. But then I got to a point in age where I didn’t have to put up with it.”

"Tony, for gods’ sake I don’t want you to… why would I want you to turn up your ass when…” But he couldn’t really say more. Not here. He covered his face and whispered behind his hand. “When you do so many amazing things to me?”

“I can't stand the idea of losing you.”

Peter reached out for Tony's hand. “I love you.” It was like a dream come true, and while he wasn’t sure he had dreamed about it happening in a public place, well, here it was. “I love you and you’re never going to lose me.”

He wanted to say ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone else’, but it was a silly thing to say. He had been in love with Tony Stark his whole life. He had felt this way about Tony forever.

Tony held Peter's hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. “You got together with me while you’re still so young. Before you have had time, really, to explore things you might find out you like or prefer better. I’ve had plenty of years to experience everything on the menu and you’ve just had one taste.

“I don’t want to hold you back, even though I don't want to let you go.”

“Tony, can we… leave? Please? I don’t want to talk about this here.”

“Okay, we can leave. It’s just… if it turned out that’s what you did mean by that picture… It felt safer here, than at home, to discuss these matters.”

“Wait… what? Now I’m really confused. Why would you want to discuss it here and not…” He didn’t want to say ‘in your arms’. It still felt very immature. “…at home?”

“Why here? No particular reason as to the venue, but some things are just safer talked about in a public place until they’re sorted and both people are on the same page. Where the bed is far away and not an option for where to discuss them.”

“Tony, I want you to teach me those other things on the menu. I don’t want to be with anyone else. We’re not talking about trying on different styles of shoe here. I… can’t do that with other people, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I know I’m supposed to want to be casual with other people because of my age but I don't. And I’m trying to tell you, I don’t want to feel ashamed of that anymore. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t have to. I can be a Tony-sexual and not apologize for that. You’re not ‘holding me back’ you’re loving me and I’m loving you and there’s nothing bad about that.”

“Since I’m rather Peter-sexual, you being me-sexual is a good thing. Because I already have enough issues struggling not to take someone apart who looks at you for too long. Having someone actually touch you? When you belong to me? That's unsustainable.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. And beam. Maybe blush a little. The idea that Tony wanted to ‘take someone apart’ just for looking?

"Okay. So we’re both very much alike in the me-sexual way. And we’re both very different about where we like to talk about private things. And we’re not going to talk about me being with someone else in bed because I hate that idea. And you’re going to stop volunteering to do something you don’t like because I really hate that idea. Is that sorted out enough? Can we go home now? I kinda need to.”

They weren’t going to just walk home hand in hand, no. Peter was going to hold Tony’s hand and use his other hand to hold into Tony’s arm too. He hoped Tony wouldn’t mind.

But Tony draped his arm over Peter’s shoulders as they walked back, holding him close, making sure that no one would possibly think that he wasn’t very much taken.

“So all this was just a case of bad lighting, poor camera angle choices, and you making yourself less than clear about the meaning of that particular picture of your, yes, very lovely, dick, hmm?” Tony asked with a sly smile.

Peter reached up and grabbed the hand draping over his shoulder. As they walked he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Tony… you’re going to have to find me an online course on ‘how to take a dick pic’ because I have no idea how that looked like anything other than a yummy snack.”

“I’ll send you a few examples, if you want,” Tony said smiling, “Because I don't want you looking at anyone else’s dick pics, not even as a course of online study.”

Peter smiled. “Deal.”

“So the way things have been with us? That’s good for you? You mentioned Paris… Those are some very good memories we made there. Apparently inspiring in your dreams, huh?” he said with a little smirk. “What parts, exactly, were so inspirational? I can’t understand unless you tell me. Explicitly. In detail.”

“Please Tony, not here…” Peter groaned and looked around them. New York City. People everywhere. But then again… wasn't talking the point? So he tried to be brave again, and spoke. He spoke almost directly into Tony's ear, but he spoke.

“You made me tell you what I wanted. You made me put it into words. And it was impossible to say those things without telling you how they made me feel. How you made me feel so safe and wanted and beautiful and so… yours. And I told you that I loved you. And I could, because suddenly I wasn’t afraid anymore.

“And I told you and I couldn’t be anything but honest and that was okay. Because that’s what you wanted. And I told you about all the things I was afraid of, and you made that okay too. And when I knew it was okay to be afraid, then I wasn’t afraid anymore.

“And also you made me come three times in one night. There was that.”

~~~~~

They were making out hot and heavy in the elevator, Peter boldly pulling Tony’s shirt free from his trousers and sneaking his hands underneath. As the doors opened they stumbled out. Peter had Tony’s face in both hands, trying to kiss him and lead him into the penthouse at the same time.

“I want it to be you, Tony. Whatever it is, whatever you want to do, I want it to be you. I want you to be the first.” He’d made himself giggle, trying to kiss Tony and talk at the same time. He only had one glass of wine at dinner, but now he felt drunk.

“That’s what I want. I just thought there was another first you wanted with me, and that’s not going to be a first we can share. Unless it…” Tony sighed. It was a difficult choice. “Yes, okay. I’d rather it be me than anyone else. The thought of anyone else touching you… In any way…” Tony said fiercely.

“Oh god, say it again, tell me I’m yours, Tony. Tell me no one gets to touch me but you…”

“I don’t want anyone touching you but me. I want you entirely to myself. I’m selfish and possessive and irrational on that subject.”

Peter laughed in relief and joy. Laughing directly into Tony’s mouth seemed rude so he leaned his head back and laughed that way. He felt giddy. “Yes, please yes. Please. I want to get ‘Property Of Tony Stark’ tattooed across my back.

“Oh god no. Please no. Do you have any idea how many people did that hoping I’d be impressed and it would become true? Nope. No. No way.”

“Ah damn, then I’ll think of something else.”

“I can think of something that will make sure everyone knows you belong to me,” Tony said with a smirk. “Not telling you yet though.”

“I want you to be my first time, Tony, all my first times. I don’t know what else to have first times for, but please think of some and then be my first.”

“Oh baby, we haven’t even touched one tenth of the first times you can have. There are entire places on that beautiful body of yours that I haven’t made love to yet. Much less places we can do it in. Positions. Locations. Methods. I can be very imaginative.”

“Oh god yes locations! Locations. I’ll let you take me anywhere on the globe, anywhere, I won’t protest, I swear.” He felt too dizzy to walk. He kept his arms around Tony’s neck as they tried to move away from the elevator. It made them move slowly, but he was afraid to let go.

“Then that just makes ‘first times’ at least several hundred locations. Sixty of them owned by me. Several rented. And then there are hotels to stay at.

“All of them, Tony. Each one. We have years.”

“We happen to find ourselves in the penthouse tonight and I’m not willing to wait til the jet can fly us somewhere else. But there are many many things we’ve yet to do right here.

“Yes,” Peter said, kissing him again. “Anything.”

“Anything I want?”

“Oh… crap…” Peter pulled his head away a little and tried to clear it. He had to be honest… Being honest had been a big deal to him since Paris. And ‘anything’ was a very big word.

“Unh unh. You already agreed. No backing out now, beautiful.” Tony kissed Peter deeply.

“Okay,” he whimpered a bit against Tony’s mouth. “…but you also said I had to tell you the truth about being afraid of bedroom things so I’m trying to do both.

“All I know is, if I’ve never done it before, I want to do it with you. I need it to be you.”

“Oh you’ve done this before. It’s not a first in that way. You did say locations, though. I was listening very closely, Pete. I always listen to you.”

“Oh… oh good.” He grinned from ear to ear. Tony listening to him was all he wanted.

“Hmm. First, location. Time for other things later.” Tony took Peter’s hand and started slowly walking him away from the elevator doors, unbuttoning Peter’s shirt, dropping it on the floor, kissing him as they walked, unbuttoning his pants while he was being kissed and walked, pushing his pants and underwear down and nearly tripping the kid when they got hung up on his shoes.

Peter was too happy to think straight. He happily helped Tony get him undressed as they walked. If they were headed to the bedroom to do it on the bed, he didn’t care. Just as long as he was skin-to-skin with his lover soon.

When Peter’s shirt came off, Tony’s quickly did too. When Peter’s pants came off, Tony was a little more deft, realizing shoes were a thing and toeing his off as he stepped out of his jeans. They were naked together, Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, anything to keep him distracted from where he was walking him to. Which wasn’t the bedroom. They were still in the living room for now.

Tony slowed their walk as they passed the console table. He opened the drawer and grabbed one of the small bottles of lube he had hidden all over the penthouse. As he wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist, he kept the bottle in one hand. He started kissing Peter again, edging their progress along the large glass wall.

“Ever get fucked 96 stories in the air before?” Tony kissed him again.

“The… the window? Oh Tony…”

“Not the window, baby. I’m gonna bend you over the balcony railing, looking straight down to the ground. Where anyone over there in One Vanderbilt will be able to see you bent over, taking my cock in your ass. Watch you getting the glass messy.”

“No no no. Tony, we’re outside!”

“Um hmm. Outside where they can see how beautiful you are. You are so beautiful Peter. Stunning. You belong to me and you’re one more thing that’s beautiful and mine that they can only look at.

“But Tony… Tony… Tony…”

“But don’t worry, baby. All they’re going to see is how lucky I am to have the most handsome young man in the city all to myself.

“But Tony…”

He held Peter close and kissed along his jaw until he was whispering in his ear. “But what, baby? You know you’re beautiful. You know your mine. You know how much I want you.”

Tony gently turned Peter around, holding him by the waist, pressed up against his back, nuzzling into the nape of his neck. “The lights from all those people out there… Not one of them has anyone as beautiful as you.” Tony kept shifting the lube bottle from hand to hand as he touched Peter, so the kid never knew it was there. Ever since Peter had noticed and remarked on it, it was a game Tony liked to play against himself. How to do the ‘magically appearing lube’ trick.

“But Tony… I… I… Tony I… ” Peter took in great gulping lungfuls of air. He had no fear of heights, never had. In fact he thought Tony’s balcony was one of the most beautiful places on earth. But he was outside, and completely naked, and that was just all kinds of wrong.

But then again, Tony was naked too. Naked, and pressed up against his back and saying the most beautiful things. Peter took another deep breath.

“Okay. I can do it,” he whispered. “If you stay close.”

“Where else would I be, Peter. I won’t let you be anywhere but close to me.” Tony’s hand wandered over his body. Up along his stomach, his chest, his neck, holding him there just a second before moving down his sides to his hip. He moved Peter’s ass back against him.

Peter gasped at the feel of Tony’s hand on his hips and moaned as he felt where Tony was moving him. He needed to make himself understood before he was beyond speech.

Reaching behind him he found the back of Tony’s head and pulled it to his own, until he had Tony’s face pressed against his face. “No, I mean stay close.”

“Baby, I’m gonna be right there kissing those pretty curls on your neck. I can’t resist them. I’ve gotta taste your skin. I’ve gotta put those beautiful marks on it. The ones I don’t even share with you. The ones that show that you’re mine.

“I love that no one else has ever touched you. No one else will ever touch you.” Tony rocked up against Peter, growing hard, frotting along the crack of his ass. His hand slid down from his waist to rest on his belly, just above his cock. He held the solid warmth of it there, then moved lower.

“I should let you have all the experiences someone your age would have. But all of those are mine too.”

“Yes, yes... yes,” he chanted, loving every word that was whispered against his ear. “Yes Tony.

“Oh… but we forgot… you forgot…” Peter stopped and blushed and looked back a little. Tony had supplies hidden all over the penthouse, making sex possible in just about every room. But there were no night tables on the balcony.

Suddenly he found himself grinning. “You’ll have to go back for the lube.”

“I will?” he asked skeptically. To be the ultimate of sneaky, he’d have to not touch Peter with either hand and Peter had asked him to stay close. He wouldn’t let go.

“Not just yet. Kiss me again… oh…”

Tony opened the bottle, giving it a squeeze, and let it run down the crack of Peter’s ass. He bent over Peter’s back a little more and set the bottle on the tile. His finger stroked through the thick lube, pushing it between Peter’s cheeks, fingertip swirling around Peter’s opening.

“Oh Tony…” Peter whispered. He couldn’t say much else. He was trying to remember to breathe. Tony had touched him like this many times, but being touched this way outside? It was somehow a completely different sensation. Still, he knew Tony liked it when he said something other than “Oh Tony.” So he tried again.

“Please keep talking to me.”

Tony was surprised that Peter could say anything, even at this early state. His voice was thin and reedy, almost carried away on the night air. He bent over the boy and kissed between his shoulder blades.

His voice was a low rumble against Peter’s back. “Do you want me to tell you how hot this beautiful place on your body makes me feel? Or perhaps how very special it is that you let me touch you here. That you let me own you here.” He paused. “Or perhaps you’d like me to tell you that there is someone on the 85th floor of One Vanderbilt watching us?”

“Stop…” Peter giggled. He didn’t really believe it, but he also didn’t care. In this moment, with Tony touching him there, no one else mattered in the world.

“Baby, you are always beautiful. But up here? Up where we fly? Where it’s just us? Beautiful doesn’t touch it.”

“Yes, it’s ours,” Peter murmured, hooking his arm behind him so he could stroke Tony’s hair. “Our sky.”

“I want to always see your skin glowing with the city lights. Like it was in Paris.” Tony pressed the head of his cock lightly where his fingers had been. Not entering. Just giving Peter exactly what they both wanted, knowing what they both liked.

“Oh Tony, what are you doing to me?” Peter murmured, eyes half-closed. He could do that, he realized. Could close his eyes and just concentrate on the sensation, on the sound of Tony’s voice, on the warm, solid presence of Tony’s body. Forget, for a moment, that they were outside. Forget that they were on display.

Tony stayed bent across Peter’s back. “I’m touching you,”

He guided the tip of his cock inside. “I’m touching you.”

He wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist and held his hand low across the boy’s belly. “I’m touching you.”

He let his cock go with his other hand, wiping it quickly on his own hip. He tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair with a slight tug. “I’m touching you.”

“Yes, please yes…” Peter moaned. He leaned back into Tony’s embrace, eyes closed, and waited. Tony would tease his opening like this for quite a while, he knew. Tony knew how much he enjoyed it.

But then again tonight was different. Two weeks ago he had done what Tony had told him to do — he had dared to request something bold. It backfired terribly, but ultimately it had paid off. Ultimately, it led them both here. To a better place. He was going to remember tonight. Tonight should be different.

Turning his head slightly, until his lips were touching Tony’s face, he kissed his lover, screwed up his courage, and whispered “Fuck me.”

Tony pressed the head of his cock in very slowly, waiting to feel that little pop as Peter closed around behind it. He held still at that point. “Is this what you want? Tell me what you want. Tell me again.”

Peter took a deep, steadying breath. It wasn’t as hard to do once Tony stopped moving. That was the beauty of this game Tony played. Knowing that Tony wouldn’t move until he was able to speak made speaking so much easier. Gave him room to breathe. He did that now.

Looking up at the sky gave him courage. Knowing that it was their playground, their territory, made him braver even though he wasn’t wearing the suit.

Keeping his eyes on it, on the sky, he knew he could do it. Firmly, he reached up and took Tony’s hand away from his head. Firmly, he took both of Tony’s hands and guided them to his hips, never taking his eyes off the sky. Firmly, he spoke.

“Fuck me,” he growled. “Don’t be gentle.”

Tony kept one hand gripping Peter’s hip. The other arm he wrapped tightly around his waist, almost completely encircling it, putting his other hand next to the first on Peter’s same hip. Holding him firm, making sure that he wouldn’t accidentally push him over the railing — not a fun way to end the evening — Tony pulled back and thrust into Peter all at once, fast, hard, not at all gentle.

“You think you can handle that, baby?” Tony asked.

“More…”

Tony reached up and grabbed Peter by the top of his hair, yanking it hard, pulling his back up against his chest so tightly he could feel the cold metal circle of the arc reactor between his shoulder blades. He fucked upwards, lifting Peter onto his toes with the force of it.

Peter let out a sharp cry of surprise. Normally he bit his mouth down hard when he heard his voice. It always sounded too loud to his own ears. But being outside, he realized very suddenly, had an advantage. Instead of biting down he opened his mouth and let it hang open. Then, whatever happened, happened.

He landed Peter onto the flat of his feet when he pulled back, then lifted him up again when he entered. Tony couldn’t get very deep in this position, but Peter’s cries were very satisfying. Not gentle, not quiet, at all. But loud. Louder than Peter ever dared in the bedroom. He knew they were carried away on the wind. Off to the skies where they both felt at home.

What Tony was doing to him was a very different sensation, and for several moments he let Tony continue. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t deep either. As soon as he was able, he caught his breath long enough to speak. “Stop… stop…” he gasped, reaching back and touching Tony’s hip.

Tony settled Peter down onto his feet again, pulling back, leaving only the head inside him. “What, baby? What do you want?”

“Back up… back up a step…” Peter managed. It wasn’t easy to talk without air, but Peter didn’t want to wait to catch his breath. He pushed Tony back a few steps until he was able to lean forward, putting himself more at a 90° angle. Then he looked back with (what he hoped was) a wicked grin. “Now do it.”

Tony kissed the grin off Peter’s lips and then figuring out what he wanted, returned that grin with a smirk. He slipped out from him and raised Peter up a few inches to where he was bent over the narrow pane of the short glass balcony wall until the boy was looking straight down at the ground, 96 floors below, bent at that 90° angle he was asking for.

“You’ve climbed the tower before, Spider-Man. Get sticky and hold yourself up.”

“Oh fuck Tony,” he gasped, but his hands found exactly what they needed instantly.

“Yes.”

“Hold on tight, Pete,” Tony said, guiding himself inside again, then giving a hard push to seat himself. When Spider-Man stayed stuck and didn’t move with the force of his thrust, he increased that force and slammed in.

Looking straight down from great heights was nothing new to Peter, nor was feeling Tony trust deep inside him. But those two things together? Peter was grateful they were outside. The noises he was making now were completely involuntary. He couldn’t have kept quiet if he wanted to.

Peter’s feet were dangling in the air, so Tony held still, buried all the way in, until the kid’s toes found purchase on the inside of the glass the same way his fingers had on the outside of it. Like that, Peter wasn’t going anywhere and Tony let himself go. Fucking hard and fast with deep long strokes.

He knew that Peter always needed a grounding touch, but the position didn’t allow for much of that. So he splayed his hand flat out on the small of his back without pressure but warmth.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, baby. All the beautiful world down there.”

“Fuck, Tony…” was all Peter could manage. He didn’t think Tony could see his face, so he didn’t try to hide his smile. Never in his life had he imagined anyone could fuck him this way.

“And my beautiful world right here so far above the other.”

The sight surrounding them both and the hot, tight sensation of Peter’s ass surrounding him was bringing him close, fast. His stroke grew shallow, his groans joining Peter’s cries on their flight through the New York skies. He let go of Peter’s hip, trusting the boy to hold himself in place, and slid his hand down underneath Peter, wrapping his fingers around the boy’s cock.

Whimpering, Peter lowered himself back to his feet and stood on shaky legs. He kept Tony inside him without effort (it was a good thing, being graceful.) He was so hard he was dizzy, but he concentrated on what Tony wanted to do next.

Back down on earth (well the earth 96 floors above the ground) Tony’s hand sought out all of Peter’s most sensitive places. His thumb sliding just below the slit as his hand stroked the boy’s shaft. He bit his lip trying to hold back his own impending orgasm.

“Oh Tony, what are you doing to me?”

“You’re gonna make my glass messy, baby. Wanna see you dripping down it.”

Peter reached backward with both arms and pressed his hands on Tony’s back. Eyes open, looking up into the sky, he leaned his head back and let it happen. If anyone was listening at that height, they would have no doubt who was fucking the twink at the balcony. Peter shouted Tony’s name endlessly into the night.

Tony watched Peter come on the railing, the sight was almost enough to send him over on its own. The strain of the boy’s body tightening around him… that was always irresistible. But when he heard Peter cry out, scream out his name… Tony hadn’t come so hard in his life.

With both hands on the rail, Peter tried to catch his breath. His head was spinning. He was pretty sure he had just been way too loud, but then again, Tony had been loud too… in fact… had he ever heard Tony be that loud? He couldn’t help but peek, looking back over his shoulder in hopes to catch a glimpse of Tony’s face before he had time to compose himself.

Tony’s mouth was still hanging open (ah, but Tony had been making some loud noises too, Peter was going to remember that) and his eyes were wide, looking up at the sky, just as Peter had done. Peter found himself grinning from ear to ear. It was a very, very rare thing to catch Tony not focusing on him. For a moment, just a moment, he had caught it. An unguarded moment. He treasured it. He wondered if there was a way to find it again.

As Tony slipped out of him he turned around and brought their heads close, draping his hands lightly behind his lover’s head.

“Property of Tony Stark,” Peter murmured, kissing his face. “You’re going to write it across my chest every morning with a sharpie.”

“Nah. Gonna make you write it on my windows with your come. Peter Parker was here. Tony Stark made him messy. Gonna let you write it on my chest when you’re riding me. Make you write it on my sheets.”

“No one will be able to read that,” Peter giggled, leaning his head back and looking up at the sky again. Their sky. His and Tony’s.

He leaned over and kissed Peter. “No one except the cleaning staff,” he said with a shrug.

“But I want everyone to know.”

Tony cupped Peter’s face and brought him into a long, deep kiss. “Baby, when you’re really ready, everyone will know.”

“I’m ready,” Peter whispered.

Anyone could get his name tattooed on their ass. People he never met had it there. He’s signed more girls’ chests with Sharpie than he ever cared to remember. But only one person would ever have something made out of gold-titanium alloy with the words ‘Property of Tony Stark’ engraved inside of it.

“No, Pete, you’re not. But when you are, I’ll be here.”

#starker #Von writes stuff #thewitchway writes stuff #von's moodboards

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