#but his design is charming and he’s friends w mr stick
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Father & Son
By @peterparkrr for @ephemeralstark (I loved all of your prompts! I tried to combine them! I really hope you enjoy <3)
@friendly-neighborhood-exchange
Rating: Teen
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, other Avengers briefly
Summary: Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man OR Rhodey meets Peter and tries to become the best uncle that he can be.
ao3 link
There’s a boy standing in front of Tony’s couch.
Rhodey stares at him, narrowing his eyes a little. The kid’s frozen in an almost comical position, legs spread wide, one hand swung in front of his body like he knew that someone was coming and tried to make an unsuccessful quick escape.
“Who are you?” Rhodey asks.
The boy blinks once and then lowers his arms slowly until they are hanging limp at his sides. He turns and cranes his neck to try to look down the hallway. When he faces Rhodey again, there’s an uneasy smile on his face—not unkind or shifty, just unsure.
“Er, hi, Colonel Rhodes.” He taps his foot a few times, then glances over his shoulder again. “How are you?”
Rhodey tilts his head to the side. The boy’s voice is familiar. He’s definitely heard it before, but can’t quite place it.
“I’m doing well.” He leaves a pause between each word as he takes a few equally slow steps across the room. “Who—”
“That’s good. Really good. I’m good, too, but actually—” The kid starts shoving the assortment of notebooks, pencils, and loose paper scattered on the table in front of the couch into his backpack and then points toward the hallway. “I should go. So you can, you know, use the room.”
He’s from New York, that much Rhodey can tell. The accent isn’t obnoxious, but it’s definitely clear. Tony probably bumped into him at a scholarship event, or even just on the street outside, and decided to recruit him into his little collection.
It wouldn’t be the first time. There’s one in Tennessee that gets a ridiculous amount of presents on Christmas and some time in the Spring (when Rhodey assumes is his birthday). Then there’s the kid-genius at MIT that Tony waved through a bit of legal trouble after she got caught in an Iron Man-type suit of her own design. Rhodey’s met her a few times, when visiting the campus with Tony. There’s also the spandex-clad wonder who helped out at the airport last year. And that was definitely a kid, no matter how many times Tony dances around Spider-Man’s age. Rhodey knows the difference between a child’s and a man’s voice. It was far too high, almost squeaky at times, enthusiastic and—Rhodey glances at the kid in front of him now—an unmistakable New York accent.
A hand comes down on the kid’s shoulder and he jumps, just a little bit too high.
“Woah there, just me,” Tony says, squeezing once before looking across the room at Rhodey and quirking an eyebrow. “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to drop in.”
“I have to work, Tones. I have a real job. Not everyone has a multi-billion dollar company to pawn off on their girlfriend.”
“That’s—not exactly accurate. Pepper likes responsibilities. It’s a gift.” Tony looks Rhodey up and down, analytical, like he always does these days. He stops at his legs and clicks his tongue. “Braces. Any adjustments? I’ve got a new set downstairs. Should be even more intuitive.”
The kid’s staring at them, too. There’s a very specific combination of interest and guilt etched into his features that Rhodey usually finds on Tony’s face. In fact, it’s also there now, albeit a little more concealed.
“You don’t have to keep doing this. They’ve been perfect for months.”
“Functional, yes. Awesome, maybe. Nowhere near perfect yet. But they will be soon. I’ve got an assistant now.”
Tony sticks his hand in the boy’s hair and smooshes it down, almost absentmindedly, before shoving his whole head to the side. The kid’s reaction is delayed, as if he forces his head to move rather than naturally rocking with the impact of Tony’s hand.
“Well, part-time assistant. Glorified coffee-fetcher.” Tony waves a hand at the kid, who only seems mildly affronted by the ‘coffee-fetcher’ thing. “This is Peter, by the way. I’m glad you’re here, Rhodes. Been meaning to introduce you two.”
Rhodey’s eyes linger on Tony’s hand. It settles on Peter’s shoulder and stays there. The whole thing is natural, like that’s a typical place for it to be. As if this boy—Peter—is comfortable with it there. But it’s more than comfortable, because Peter’s looking at Tony like he’s maybe the most important person in the world. It’s not the usual idolization that Tony tends to get either. This is deeper, like they know each other, really know each other. They’ve both got matching lop-sided grins and if Rhodey squints, that’s not where the similarities end.
Every person Rhodey knows has a story—or fifty—of when Tony has said or done something that has rendered a whole room silent. He has a knack for it. Just like he has a knack for getting on people’s nerves and creating some, admittedly, cool gadgets.
It doesn’t happen to Rhodey as often these days. You know a guy for thirty plus years and it becomes hard for them to shock you.
But now, all Rhodey can do is gape, eyes shifting back and forth between the pair in front of him.
Tony’s smile fades into something more concerned, a by-product of whatever he must be reading from the surprise on Rhodey’s face.
Then the elevator door opens. This time, Peter isn’t the only one to jump, they all startle and turn towards it at once, like they'd been caught at the scene of a crime rather than merely standing in Tony's living room.
Sam and Steve walk out of the elevator, engrossed in conversation. It stops short when they realize that the room isn’t empty.
“Tony, James.” Steve nods, then his eyes widen when they reach Peter. “Oh, hello.”
Sam squints at them. “Who’s the child?”
From the look on his face, Peter takes more offense to that than anything Tony said about his role in the lab.
Tony sniffs and shrugs, shifting his body an almost imperceptible amount so that he’s a half a step in front of Peter. His stance is pseudo-relaxed, something clearly defensive in the tension in his shoulders. Rhodey takes it as a cue and also moves, just a little bit, to try to obscure Peter as much as possible.
Things are better now than they were last year. The team’s back together—no hard feelings, for the most parts, but trust is hard to regain.
“This is Peter. Intern.” Tony elbows him. “Look, it’s Captain America and the Falcon. Aren’t you starstruck?”
“Oh! Yeah—so cool.” Peter starts to salute then winces and crosses his arms. “Mr. Falcon, Mr. America. It’s an honor.”
Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in that particular way—’constipated puppy’, Tony likes to call it. Rhodey has to agree. Although, he thinks Tony finds it sort of charming, which is where Rhodey draws the line. It would be cute on a toddler, not so much on a grown man. “Why is an intern in your penthouse, Tony?”
“I missed the part where that was any of your business.”
“That’s not—I was just curious—”
“Well, don’t be.”
Peter starts to squirm uncomfortably. When Rhodey makes eye contact with him, he averts his gaze to the ground.
“Oh, okay. I get it,” Sam says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “He’s not really an intern, huh?”
Both Tony and Peter tense even further. Rhodey finds himself doing the same.
“Jesus, Stark, how old is he? Sixteen? Did you just meet him?”
“W-what?” Tony splutters.
“He’s your kid, right?”
Tony looks lost for a moment, then one of his bright, press smiles drifts onto his face. It always shows up when he's about to tell a lie, and suddenly the pieces all click into place in Rhodey's head.
Before Tony can speak, he steps forward, shoving Sam good-naturedly and shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous and you know it. No one would wait sixteen years to slap Tony Stark with a custody case.”
Peter peaks out from around Tony. "I'm seventeen!"
"Strengthens my argument," Rhodey says.
Sam snorts. “Then how do you explain Stark hanging out with a small child?”
“Small child,” Peter repeats in a murmur, lines creasing his forehead.
“He hangs out with quite a few small children,” Rhodey says.
Steve starts to look at Rhodey like he’s wandered into an alternate dimension, which isn’t too far of a leap given their particular line of work.
Sam just shrugs. “Somehow, that’s worse. Very strange.”
Tony frowns. “No—it’s—I’m a good mentor, right Pete?”
Peter beams up at him, smile so wide that Rhodey’s sure it must hurt. “Right.”
Rhodey’s certain about two things. The kid is definitely Tony’s son. The kid is also Spider-Man. How Tony managed to get himself a souped up child is beyond him (and he prays that it’s not Tony's own doing, a lab-experiment gone awry or even more terrifyingly gone right), but he hopes that he’ll learn the story one day. He’s an uncle now, after all.
~~~
Rhodey’s phone starts to ring, a picture of Tony flashing on the screen. Or, it’s a picture of a picture, really—an old one from college that’s framed at his mom’s house.
He grabs his phone from the nightstand and admires the image for a few seconds, reminiscing about simpler times, before picking up.
“H—”
“Rhodey! You haven’t heard from Happy recently, have you?”
He rolls his eyes. “Hello, Tony.”
“That’s my name. Heard from Happy? I can’t get a hold of him.”
Rhodey leans back in his bed, crossing one leg over the other. “Nope. You’re the mutual friend in this situation, you know. Happy and I don’t really hang out without you.”
Tony hums. There are muffled footsteps and Rhodey envisions him pacing.
“Why do you need Happy?”
“He’s supposed to drive Peter home.”
“What, are you—afraid of his mom or something?”
“Aunt,” Tony corrects.
“Aunt,” Rhodey echoes.
That’s something he didn’t see coming. He wonders if the poor kid lost his mom before knowing that his dad was Tony Stark. He wonders how Tony even found out about him. He almost asks, but bites his tongue. It seems like something that Tony should bring up when he’s ready.
“Aunt,” Tony confirms again.
“Alright, so just drive him to the aunt’s place. It can’t be that bad.”
There’s a long pause. “That’s not really what we do.”
“Oh come on, how scary can she—”
“And besides, the kid’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him up.”
“Okay.” Rhodey tries to keep his voice calm and void of annoyance, because his Tony may be a genius, but he’s also the biggest idiot on the planet. And sometimes idiots need patience. It's his duty, both as a best friend, and a newly realized uncle, to provide that patience. “Then tell his aunt that he fell asleep and that he’s staying over for the night.”
The pause that follows is even longer than the last. There are more scuffling footsteps and then he whispers, “but he’s asleep in the lab. Laying on the desk.”
It shouldn’t be this difficult. Rhodey holds the phone away from him so that Tony won’t hear him sigh. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or put a suit on and carry him if you’re that worried about waking him up.”
“What?”
Rhodey counts to three. “Then wake him up and tell him to head up to his room. Or—”
“Room—he doesn’t have a room,” Tony interjects.
It’s Rhodey’s turn to hesitate. “Peter doesn’t have a room at the tower?”
“No,” Tony replies slowly. “Do you—you think he should have a room at the tower?”
Rhodey tries to come up with any possible reason that Tony would think that his son shouldn’t have a room at his place of residence. The only thing that comes to mind is daddy issues. He’s not even sure if that covers it.
��I’m going to take your silence as a yes?” Tony asks
If he needs logic and numbers, Rhodey will give him logic and numbers. Whatever it takes to spell it out to him.
“How many days does Peter spend at the tower?”
“Two—sometimes three. It depends.”
“Okay. Does he stay late often?”
“Yes. I told you, Happy drives him home.”
Rhodey rests his head in his free hand. The kid can’t have been in Tony’s life for much more than a year—either that or Rhodey’s severely lacking in the observation department—and somehow Tony’s managed to twist their relationship into something that defies any sense. Peter clearly adores him based on what Rhodey saw at the tower, and yet Happy’s carting him between his houses and he doesn’t even have a room at his dad’s place.
“I bet this isn’t the first time he’s fallen asleep while over at yours, right?”
Tony hums in agreement.
“So don’t you think it would be easier to have a room for him to crash in? And then it won’t be so much travel back and forth for the kid. It’s probably weird enough without all of that. He has a lot going on.”
“Yeah,” Tony murmurs. “You’re absolutely right. Okay. Room. FRIDAY? Jot that down. What would I do without you, Rhodey? You’re the light of my life. Have I told you that recently? Best thing to ever happen to me. I love you.”
Rhodey jabs at the end call button.
A text pops up a moment later. Rude of you to hang up when I’m being sentimental.
Rhodey pulls up the contact picture of the dorky little boy he used to share a dorm room with before typing back. I love you, idiot.
He receives a string of hearts a minute later.
~~~
Tony’s voice filters into Rhodey’s earpiece. “It’s not moving.”
Steve’s follows. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Tony answers. “I’m going closer.”
Rhodey watches him approach the metal orb. He looks like nothing more than a red dash from here, shooting across the New York skyline.
He glances to his left, where Spider-Man is standing, hands alternating between fiddling in front of his stomach and swinging at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. He hasn’t been his usual chatterbox-self since Tony flew off to scout the sphere from up close.
Rhodey shakes his head. “Be careful. You’re making Spidey nervous.”
The red mask turns to him, eyes on it even wider than usual. “I’m not nervous!”
“Don’t get too close to it, Tony. We don’t know what it can do,” Steve adds.
The words are barely through the comms before the sphere shifts, a flash of green light shooting off its surface. Tony dives and rolls out of the way.
“Oops,” he says. “Made it angry.”
“It’s hostile,” Steve says.
“It’s impressive.” The red blur twists around and then flies closer to the orb again. “Unknown metal, FRIDAY can’t find a match. Dense, too. Shouldn’t be able to float like this with no propulsion. And smooth, laser came right off the surface, no—shit.”
Rhodey takes a step closer, even though it doesn’t do much to shorten the distance between him and Tony. “Shit?”
“It’s a diversion. You guys have to get to Manhattan. Something’s landed. Accounts say it appeared out of nowhere.”
A video pops up on Rhodey’s HUD. There’s a giant metal ship, the outside smooth like the orb, but it’s not spherical. There’s pavement torn up around either side of it and at least one car crushed beneath it, headlights sticking out from the debris. There are civilians running on the outskirts of the disturbance.
“We’re on it,” Steve says. “Tony, stay with the orb. Send for help if it tries anything funny.”
“Fine,” Tony replies after a few seconds. “Leave Underoos here, too.”
“Done. Everyone else, let’s go.”
“What? You guys wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t told you about the sphere!” Peter protests.
“Exactly,” Tony replies. “The sphere’s yours, so stay here and help me watch it. From the ground.”
“But Mr. Stark, that’s basically telling me to do nothing!”
“Bingo. Keeping you out of trouble.”
Peter crosses his arms over his chest, huffing in indignation.
Rhodey shoots Peter a sympathetic look. Then the full extent of the opportunity to gain Peter's favor dawns on him. “Sorry, kid. If it were up to me, I would let you come with us. Remember that, okay?”
"What," Peter says.
"Just, remember that." Rhodey turns to take off. "See you."
By the time they get to Manhattan, the scene has changed drastically from the footage. The ship has opened up, revealing countless robots in different shapes and sizes, all with the same smooth surfaces as the orb and the ship.
They get to work. It’s harder than it should be. Most of the guns on Rhodey's suit do nothing to the metal—only the strongest blasters inflict any damage. It’s nearly indestructible.
“Er—guys?” Peter’s voice breaks through the chaos. “Something’s—oh my god. Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark?”
Rhodey looks up. The orb is alight, a green haze surrounding it. Tony’s suit is nowhere near it. Rhodey scans the rest of the sky, catching a glimpse of it just before it disappears below the tops of buildings.
“Tony?” Rhodey tries.
There’s no response.
Someone curses over the airwaves.
“Spider-Man?” Steves says. “Do you have eyes on him?”
“It happened so fast,” Peter mumbles. “I saw where he fell. I’ll—I’ll get to him.”
Rhodey exchanges a glance with Steve. He bites his lip and glances back up at the sky, doing a double take when he realizes that the orb has disappeared.
“Hey, Steve.” Rhodey points. “It’s gone.”
“Spider-Man,” Steve says. “Where’d the orb go?”
When Peter's feed crackles into Rhodey’s ears, it’s filled with the staticky sounds of fast movement and heavy impacts.
“What’s up? Did someone say my name?” The kid asks, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I’m a little busy.”
Steve looks at Rhodey, eyes wide through his mask. “What does that mean?”
There’s a sharp thwip over the comm’s and more scuffling, then silence. Rhodey can’t see Steve’s eyebrows under the mask, but he’s pretty sure if he could, they would be up to his hairline.
“I’m on it.” Before waiting for a response, Rhodey takes off. There’s no angry Steve voice on the comms, so he assumes that it’s the right move.
It takes him less than five minutes to find Peter. He’s tipped off by a trail of webs, hanging from buildings, leading him to an alley.
He lands a few feet away from it, peering inside. There are about a dozen orbs, like the giant one in the sky had split into pieces. Each is varying degrees of shattered or plastered to the wall by web lines that stretch across the alleyway like streamers. Rhodey swivels his head back and forth a few times before forcing himself to tear his eyes away.
Tony’s down—suit collapsed in an unceremonious pile. Peter’s pacing in front of him, clearly agitated, leaning over every few steps and murmuring something that Rhodey can’t quite make out.
He takes a step forward, ducking under one of the webs. “Hey. Alright over there?”
Peter’s head jerks to the side. His shoulders rise in a shrug and he looks back at Tony. “He isn’t moving. I hear his heartbeat though.”
Rhodey’s own heart clenches. He makes the rest of the way into the alley and crouches down next to Tony. He mutters a call for medical as quietly as he can, in an effort to keep Peter calm. It’s probably useless seeing as the kid just told him he can hear heartbeats.
Peter settles down next to him, brushing one hand over Tony’s suit.
“I also meant you,” Rhodey clarifies. “Are you alright? Looks like you had a handful here.”
Peter looks up at him, brow furrowed, until the state of the alley seems to sink in. He shrugs again. “Yeah. I’m okay. I’m—er—pretty strong.”
Rhodey laughs. “Yeah. I got that.”
“I’m more worried about Mr. Stark.” Peter looks back down at him.
Rhodey double-checks that his comm’s are off and then brings his faceplate down. “You don’t have to do that, kid, I know.”
He freezes. “You—know—?”
“All of it,” Rhodey says carefully, before adding, “Peter.”
The kid flinches and scoots away. “Did Mr. Stark tell you?”
“Not exactly. It was just sort of—” ‘Obvious’ isn’t the right thing to say judging by the way Peter’s eyes are blinking rapidly, like a skittish, caged animal. “I figured it out. Look, I won’t tell anyone. But you can drop the whole ‘Mr. Stark’ thing in front of me.”
The nerves seep out of Peter, replaced by confusion. “What? I always call him ‘Mr. Stark’.”
Really, nothing about Tony’s handling of this situation should surprise Rhodey at this point. Somehow it still does. Tony always seems to defy expectations.
“He makes you call him ‘Mr. Stark?’” Rhodey tries to keep his voice as even and nonjudgemental as possible in case Tony decides to wake up, or Peter tells him about it later.
“Oh, no. He always tries to get me to call him something else. It just doesn’t feel right, you know?”
“Ah,” Rhodey says. It’s a relief. One less piece of sense that he’ll have to talk Tony into. “Yeah, I understand that. I bet it’s an adjustment—all of this.”
“A lot has changed in the last year and a half, Colonel Rhodes, let me tell you. Sometimes I think it’s a dream but—” Peter gestures up at the pattern of webs and then down at Tony.
“I bet.” Rhodey bites his lip, trying to decide whether to say more. “I’ve known him for a long time. He’s made some mistakes. And he’ll probably make a couple more, but he’s a good guy. You can trust him.”
“I know that.” Peter’s response is automatic and sure. Rhodey can’t help but smile.
It’s possible that Tony’s doing just fine at the parenting thing. Even if he didn’t think to give his kid a room in his building.
~~~
“Look at this footage, seriously, do you see that?” Tony has FRIDAY pause it and then rewind a few seconds. “Watch.”
The video plays for the third time—Peter swinging around the alley, webs flying in every direction so fast that Rhodey can barely track where his hands are. He watches him grab one of the orbs and smash it between his fists.
“Do you know how durable those things are? I’ve been running tests. They’re stronger than any metal on earth. Make my suit look like aluminum fucking foil.”
Rhodey turns to Pepper. “How many times have you had to watch this?”
“Lost count around thirty.”
Tony scoffs, and then proceeds to replay the video once again
“Proud dad,” Rhodey says, smirking when Tony throws one of his middle fingers over his shoulder.
“It’s not a bad look.” Pepper leans over to wind her arms around Tony’s neck.
“Both of you, quiet. Maybe if I get the impression that you’re paying attention, I won’t have to play it again.”
Rhodey chuckles and tilts his head so he can get a clear view of the screen.
~~~
“Upgrades.” Tony moves his arms in a certain way and the wall slides aside to reveal a new version of the War Machine armor. “More fire-power, since I know you’re into that sort of thing. Also implemented a stealth mode. Peter helped me out.”
Rhodey smiles over at the kid. He’s met with a forced grimace. Peter'll warm up to him eventually. Rhodey will make sure of it. If Tony can manage to shape himself into a dad on such short notice, then Rhodey can definitely get a handle on being an uncle—ideally a cool uncle.
“He helped me with a new set of braces, too,” Tony continues. “Speaking of, those are—”
“I told you to quit with the braces.”
“And I believe I told you that I wouldn’t—doesn't matter, we’ll get to those later. Pete, do you want to do the honors, show him what we’ve done?”
“It’s okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter doesn’t move from his position—sort of slumped against the wall adjacent to the case that the new armor is in. “You can show him.”
Tony glances at Peter and then shrugs, turning back to the display. “If you say so.”
He launches into an explanation, gesturing wildly as the suit fires an impressive sequence of advanced weaponry. Despite the demonstration, Rhodey finds his attention divided, focusing on Peter more often than not. The kid closed his eyes as soon as Tony turned away from him, leaned his head back against the wall. He looks pale, but somehow flushed at the same time—his skin is a deep red high on his cheeks, but almost gray everywhere else. It could be the lighting, but—
Rhodey grabs Tony’s shoulder and yanks him closer, cutting him off mid-sentence. He points at Peter, who doesn’t seem to have noticed the lull in conversation.
Is he okay? Rhodey mouths, because even though Peter seems out of it, he still has freaky super hearing.
Why wouldn’t he be? Tony mouths back.
His eyes are closed.
Well maybe he’s— Tony makes a pillow with his hands and mimes sleeping on it. Tired.
Why would he be so tired?
Tony’s lips form a string of words too long for Rhodey to decipher. What?
He tries again. No difference, except Rhodey thinks he sees the word 'spider'. He shakes his head.
Tony huffs and starts over. Rhodey grabs his shoulders and shakes them. Slow down. Less words.
He rolls his eyes and starts moving his mouth in exaggerated slow motions.
Nope.
He wipes his hand over his face and tries again.
Not getting it.
“Oh, come on,” he hisses. “He’s a vigilante at night, a student during the day, and his metabolism matches, if not exceeds Rogers’!”
“Hey.” Peter cracks his eyes open and lifts his head off the wall, voice croaky and rough. “Are you guys talking about me?”
“Nah, some other super-kid,” Tony says.
Peter chuckles, and lets his head fall back. “Don’t let ‘em replace me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, would we, Rhodes?”
“Nope,” Rhodey says quickly. “Never.”
“Good,” Peter whispers, eyes drifting shut.
Tony glances at Rhodey, as if looking for an answer. He doesn’t have one, tries to convey that with a pointed look.
“You look kind of tired, bud,” Tony ventures, throwing up a confused hand in Rhodey’s direction. “You hungry?”
“No,” Peter mumbles. “M’good.”
“You, Peter Parker, are not hungry?”
“Nope.”
Tony’s face fades into something akin to horror. “You were right, Rhodey. He’s broken.”
“Oh my god. He’s not ‘broken’, you big drama queen.” Rhodey hits Tony lightly on the back of the head. “Just, go over there and do something.”
“Do something,” Tony repeats. “Helpful. What exactly should I do?”
“I don’t know? Feel his forehead?”
The state of horror increases. “I’m calling his aunt.”
Tony tries to dart past Rhodey, but he catches his arm on the way. “You can’t always call the aunt when things get tough!”
Tony yanks his arm away. “Why not!?”
Rhodey hesitates. “I mean, you can. Actually, you probably should—”
“Exactly!”
“But you also need to—” He moves his head in Peter’s direction. “You know.”
“I do not know!” Tony runs his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking up at all angles. It matches the wild glint of uncertainty in his eyes.
“Actually, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. “Do you mind if I sit down for a minute? Sorry.”
He sinks down the wall, hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on his kneecaps.
“Oh—what? What's happening right now?" Tony walks over and hovers above the kid. “Did you get hit by anything on patrol last night?”
Peter’s head shakes ever so slightly.
“Tones, I think he’s just sick,” Rhodey says.
“He heals broken bones overnight, he doesn’t get sick.” Tony kneels next to him, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder and then taking it right off. “Right?”
“Don’t get sick,” Peter agrees. “At least, I don’t think so. Haven’t since I got bit.”
“It's been less than two years, hasn’t it?”
Tony nods. Peter’s head gives a pathetic little lurch.
“This is probably just the first bug that’s gotten to him since it happened,” Rhodey says. “I think you’re just sick, Peter. What’s bothering you?”
The kid raises his head. He looks worse than he had when he’d been standing—beads of sweat on his hair-line dampening the strands into messy curls stuck to his skin.
“Not sick,” he says. “I just have a headache. It’s not that bad.”
Tony brings his hand up to Peter’s forehead with more confidence than he exhibited at the prospect a few minutes ago. A surge of pride goes through Rhodey—it’s simple, but it’s good. More proof that his best friend will be great at this eventually. “You feel hot, kiddo. At least by your standards. FRIDAY, check him over. Look for anything funky.”
The scan completes a few minutes later, coming back with nothing but a fever.
“Well,” Tony says after he reads the results aloud. “Working theory is that you are a little bit sick, Pete.”
Peter shakes his hanging head. “Not sick.”
Tony smiles. “Sure thing. Like I said, only a theory. We can always improve it later.”
That seems to mollify the kid. He nods a little and sighs, resting his head back on his knees.
“Why don’t we get you up to your room? Bed’s gotta be better than the floor. And a pillow’s gotta be a whole lot better than those bony knees.”
A grin tugs at Rhodey’s lips as he watches Tony help Peter to his feet. He follows them into the elevator and then down a few hallways.
He stays at the edge of the room, leaning on the door frame, content to watch. Tony walks with Peter over to the bed and waits there as he settles into it.
“Are you sure you don’t want any food? Water?” he asks.
Peter’s head shakes, barely visible to Rhodey over the sheets that are pulled up above his chin.
“Rest up, then. Get better soon. I’ve gotten used to having a lab assistant, so don’t ruin that for me.”
“I won’t. I’m not even sick!”
“Uh huh. Yup. Definitely. Go to sleep anyway.”
Tony shakes his head, fondly, and walks back out of the room past Rhodey.
“You’re good with him,” he says as he eases the door shut.
Tony twitches a little, a slight stutter in his stride, before he goes back to walking. “Well, I do try to be a decent human being occasionally.”
He’s pleased by the compliment, Rhodey can tell. But, he’s never been good at accepting that sort of thing. Sometimes it’s better to let it be, but others times, Rhodey likes to press it.
“I’m proud of you, man.”
“Alright. Weird, but alright.”
“I’m serious, look at you! Even got him the room. It looked nice.”
Tony stops in his tracks, spins around slowly, and then looks up at the ceiling and over at each wall. “What’s going on? Is this a prank?”
“This would be a pretty awful prank,” Rhodey points out. “Listen, I’m just saying that I know this can’t have been easy—finding out about the kid, making the decision to meet him, taking up an active role in his life. I’m impressed. You’ve changed a lot since college, Tones. For the better.”
“You lost me. I’m just teaching a high schooler some lab stuff, some superhero stuff. It’s not a big deal.”
Rhodey throws his hands up. “It is a big deal! He’s your son, that’s a big deal!”
Tony’s mouth falls open. He closes it as his eyebrows knit together, and then it drops open once again. “I don’t get it. You don’t sound like you’re joking.”
“Joking? I’m just trying to pay you a compliment, man. Take it so we can move on.”
Tony starts massaging his temples. “I’m sorry, you think Peter’s my biological son?”
“What? He—he is. He is your son.”
A grin rises slowly on Tony’s face and then he’s laughing, full body, doubled over, one of his arms strewn across his stomach as if he’s trying to contain it.
Rhodey crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not hard to infer why Tony’s laughing. It is hard to rationalize how he read the situation so horribly wrong. He runs through the last couple months, scrambling to put the memories in a new perspective. It's hard to separate anything about Tony and Peter from father and son.
“I don’t understand,” Rhodey says. “I called you a ‘Proud Dad’ a few weeks ago.”
“I thought it was a joke! The whole team jokes about Spider-Man being my kid.”
“But, I told Peter I knew everything!”
“He thought you meant his identity.”
Rhodey rubs his hands over his head. “I asked him why he calls you ‘Mr. Stark’”.
Tony frowns. “He didn’t mention that part.”
“I—you got him his own room! In your tower!”
“You told me to! Pepper thought it was weird when I told her how much you pressed about it—should I take away the room? Is it too much?”
“Take away the room—“ Rhodey mumbles. “No, dumbass. He’s sleeping in it right now."
“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” Tony points at him. “Hilarious, but ridiculous.”
“It’s not just me! Those ‘jokes’ the team has been making—” Rhodey puts air quotes around the word and shakes his head. “Not jokes. Do you know how much work I’ve put in trying to get them to dial it down because I didn’t think you and Peter were ready for everyone to know?”
“They think—wait, Peter or Spider-Man?”
“Both? Mostly Spider-Man.”
“Oh my god.” Tony stares off to the side, as if he can’t quite comprehend the conversation. “Why?”
“Well it’s an easy mistake to make! You’re really protective—“
“Because he’s a child!” Tony interrupts.
“And the way he looks at you. It’s obvious, even through the mask. It’s like—“ Rhodey trails off, unsure if it’s what Tony wants to hear.
He narrows his eyes. “Like what?”
“I don’t know—“
“You clearly do. Just say it.”
“Like he looks up to you, man.” Rhodey shrugs. “Like you mean a lot to him.”
Tony’s silent for a moment, goes back to staring at the spot just to Rhodey’s right. He sniffs once and then wipes his hands on his jeans.
“Right. That’s—nice. A little sappy for my taste.” There is the smallest trace of a smile, but he sniffs again and it disappears. “Well I’m going to go call his aunt, then call Bruce and see if we can whip up some kind of painkiller for him. Do you mind hanging out by his room, in case he needs anything?”
Rhodey looks at him, deadpan. “You hear that, right? You hear what you sound like.”
“Shut up!” Tony calls without looking back.
Rhodey laughs and walks back down the hallway. As soon as he gets close to the the room, he starts to hear Peter’s voice from inside.
He pulls the door open a crack.
The mound of sheets shifts slightly on the bed. “Mr. Stark?”
“Nope,” Rhodey says. “It’s me.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t miss the disappointment in Peter’s voice. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Rhodey walks in until he can see some of Peter’s head sticking out from under the sheets—he’s curled up on his side, face tense and twisted in pain. “Anything I can get for you?”
“I don’t know.” He burrows a little deeper. “Do you think Mr. Stark is going to come back soon?”
“Yeah, he’s just trying to make something to help with the pain. And call your aunt. She’ll be here soon, too.”
“Good. I, uh, I can’t sleep. Everything hurts,” Peter confesses. “I think I might be sick.”
Rhodey sits on the edge of the bed, chuckling a little. “Oh, really?”
“Don’t tell Tony or May, okay?”
Rhodey perks up. “Your secret’s safe with me, Spidey. I’m cool, you can trust me.”
Peter blinks a few times. He meets Rhodey’s eyes and then nods. “You are pretty cool, Colonel Rhodes.”
Rhodey bites the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling. He waits until Peter's eyes are closed before breaking into an all-out grin and pumping a fist.
Peter might not be Tony’s biological son, but Tony’s not Rhodey’s biological brother either. That's never stopped them before. He can still be Peter’s uncle. In fact, he thinks he might have just cinched the coveted cool uncle position he was trying to get.
#friendly neighborhood fic exchange#irondad#spideyson#tony stark#peter parker#fic#irondad fic#my stuff
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Born To Love You [Part: 4]
summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there’s no telling if he even has a clue.
a/n: Have I mentioned how much I love you lot? Because it's true! I do! 💖 Here is chapter 4 in all 'er glory. Feedback/ predictions/ and thoughts of any kind are always intensely appreciated of course! Stay well darlings 💞
w/c: 5k
Part 5
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
"Hello, my darling, my dear!" A familiar lilt floated past the door of your rented flat. Gwilym's mother was here.
You weren't entirely surprised to see her, she usually found some excuse to visit her son on whatever film set he used to occupy his time through the years. But she was terrible at surprises, and always let you know when she was planning on popping round. So why hadn't you heard from Mrs. Lee till now?
Before you had time to ask or even greet her properly, her arms were wrapped around your shoulders like a vice. Gwil's mother had always loved you- the first night you met, she assigned you a designated spot at the family dinner table. She never questioned your situation with her son. She always went out of her way to invite you to holiday parties and spontaneous family gatherings. And the times you had to miss out for one reason or another, and Gwil still brought Olive along, he'd bring her back to you with a message from his mother; how she'd missed you.
"What are you doing here?" You laughed into the woman's hair. Before Mrs. Lee answered, as you pulled away from the embrace, you noticed the look on Gwilym's face. You could tell there was something he'd been waiting longer than a couple of minutes to say.
"I invited her to stay for the weekend." Gwil grinned, sauntering closer to greet his mother with warm grandeur. To both of you, Gwil's mother's presence in the Airbnb was like a breath of fresh air. Olive was perhaps the most pleased of all, clamoring with laughter toward Mrs. Lee. She scooped up your daughter in a big hug and went on explaining her surprise visit...
"There's a show here in the city on Monday. I'm meeting some coworkers there, we've been planning for months! Anyway, I called Gwil to ask him to lunch and he doubled the offer! I'll be glad to watch Olive for a night, but before you leave we have to catch up."
"Leave? Where are we going?" You turned to Gwil as everyone settled further into the room. He seemed to already be waiting to tell you what he'd had up his sleeve.
"Lucy planned a party, tomorrow night. Rented a place to stay and everything."
"Oh...oh no-" You'd nearly forgotten. It was Joe's birthday.
"And I knew you'd try and get out of it. So, mum will stay here with Olive and when we get back on Sunday I'll blow my paycheck on taking her to a big fancy dinner as thanks." Gwil looked to his mother as she eased onto the sofa with a smile and a shrug, unopposed to being pampered.
"Gwilym!" You worried, trying to contain your panic but make yourself clear all the same. "I don't think I should go." You implored.
"It would be stranger if you didn't, don't you think?" Gwilym looked to you with a raised brow, his firm voice stirring the worry in your gut.
"Why are you two so on edge?" Mrs. Lee piped up from the sofa, where she sat unbothered by Olive yanking at the necklaces layered across her chest.
Neither of you could lie to her. So you and Gwil heaved a matching sigh and spun to sit on opposite sides of the room. And just like when James demanded to know what was up, Gwil took initiative in telling the story you'd been engulfed in for a while now- sparing a few details about arguments and longing gazes. His mother listened, showing little to no favor for which side she might have been on; hardly giving a single sign this situation shocked the woman to any degree.
"So, tomorrow is Joe's birthday. And we'll spend all night together in the thick of it." Gwilym rose a hand your way, almost like he was asking you what to do next. But he'd already planned everything out, hadn't he?
"Well," Gwilym's mother straightened. "That's the best time to work things out, without Olive around. Surely you can sit your friends down and explain things like adults, right?" She pointed a look to Gwil, one you imagined sent a chill down his spine as a boy, and maybe even still now.
"Right." He looked from her to you. And you knew he wasn't done scheming. You knew you were stuck between the promise you made to Lucy to be prepared to party, and whatever Gwil was up to now.
///
"Mama?" Olive grabbed the hem of your shirt in her fists as you flung your purse over your shoulder. Somehow, it sucked even harder every new time you had to leave her behind. She'd mastered the art of puppy dog eyes, her tears pooling, her lip quivering.
You promised her that you'd be back before she knew it. That she was in safe, fun-loving hands. But when the girl looked to Gwil who was toting your overnight bag to the front door, she was done for. Not even his excitable transaction of Olive's beloved one red-eyed bat stopped her tears.
And even though it felt impossible to walk out the door to the sound of her pleading cries, you knew she'd be okay. You wondered of your fate, though.
You left the rented car at the flat for Mrs. Lee, whose stories over homemade dinner and chatter over morning coffee lifted your spirits tenfold. Her excitement for spending a little more time doing just the same when you got back would likely keep you from drowning in your own worried thoughts. Off you went, all the while...
Lucy had rented some cottage in the hills. Apparently, she'd overheard Joe muttering about wanting to spend some time in the countryside before the production came to an end. The usual lot of you were invited to come ready to spend a night of fun, a night to celebrate Joe. He deserved that and more. But you certainly weren't worthy or prepared to join in such a celebration.
While your uber headed out of the city, you and Gwilym talked about how hard it was to leave Olive, how you couldn't wait for her to be a little older, easier to sneak in on the action. How you wished she'd stay small all the same. How Gwil stayed with you and your roommates the first week you brought Olive home, and how he hated to leave by the end of then. About the first day you left her with Gwilym when you went back to work, and how it seemed so easy because you knew how happy Gwilym was and that everything was fine.
As the forests of trees grew denser along the roadside, the ride became coated in a silence you mistook for shared reminiscence. But then Gwilym spoke up with a question you hadn't expected.
"If... if I hadn't roped you into being 'Mrs. Lee'..." He hesitated, almost afraid to ask. You, afraid to wonder.
"If I wasn't around when you met Joe..."
"If you weren't around, I wouldn't have met any of your lovely friends, honey." You gave your fake husband's hand a squeeze hoping he would take a hint.
By then, the uber was creeping up a gravel path to a cottage in the midst of pines and maples. The dull blue sky framed the quaint old home made up of worn brick and curtain shielded windows. Near the tri-colored brick chimney, Ben was stood smoking. His eyes (even from your view behind the tinted car window) somehow greener than the leaves that threatened to envelop your shelter for the evening.
Your conversation with Gwilym was officially cast aside, but you didn't miss his somber smile. The fact he felt for you muted the ache of adoration you felt for Joe at the mention of his name. You shook all those thoughts away on your clamor to solid ground.
Ben greeted the pair of you cheerily and led the way inside. No one else had made it yet. Ben said you and Gwilym were lucky to be early enough to choose the best room in the house. There were enough for everyone, around tight paint chipped corners. If you had to be locked in with everyone for an evening, at least it got to be in such a charming little space.
You and Gwil wordlessly abandoned your things on a small quilt covered bed and went to find Ben in the kitchen, proudly setting out all the liquor he managed to bring along. Rami and Lucy were in charge of bringing Joe, and a boatload of snacks. Gwilym must have been in charge of bringing you.
You knew it was important not to let a single crack split between your bond tonight, with no baby to hide behind. It wasn't hard to seem content, settling into a big comfy sofa as there three of you waited around. Beams of grey sun shot through the massive windows on the doors that lead outback. As you lost yourself to admiring the space, the others burst in.
Rami and Lucy carried a comical amount of bags in after Joe who was clearly ready to party. You couldn't help but laugh, out of all the ways he could have celebrated, he was delighted to stick himself in the middle of nowhere with the same group of people he was always stuck with anyway.
And just like that, you were all back together again like you'd been forever, like an afterschool special. It was easy to mix yourself in, just as easy as it might have been to stay in a far off corner. No one could focus on one thing long while they scattered off to explore the floor plan. After everyone had their share of admiring the nooks and crannies of the home, the fun began.
In the garden past the rickety steps of the porch, there was a tattered net already set up. Near the shed, Gwilym found a trunk full of dirty old sporting goods, and a tarnished blue volleyball was the only thing sturdy enough to play with. You teamed up and went wild like kids, like you all had at the play place outside Ben's favorite cafe. Except now you all relied on each other to play the same honest game.
Morale drifted from teasing banter to grunting curses as your scores were tied. You spiked the ball and won the first game. Celebration hardly lasted as chatter of a second round was on the rise. But when Lucy trodded of to catch her breath, you quickly decided to join her, riding your winning high.
She motioned you inside, making a b-line for the kitchen while the sun turned the world golden. Lucy appointed you to help her start making dinner as the boys continued playing volleyball to the death.
As their shouting at each other rattled the kitchen windows, Lucy unveiled ingredients for a homemade pizza. She'd heard Joe craving it the week before, and tonight was all about him.
"You're good at this." You pointed out, helping her set out ingredients along the counter space that wasn't crowded with booze.
"What?" Lucy laughed, cheeks still flushed from running around out back. Hair still windblown. Still so flawless. And kind, to top it off.
"Going out of your way to make people feel like they belong." You made clear. When you met, she'd gifted you the perfect handbag. Now she planned out Joe's birthday evening like her own, plotting for things he brought up in passing- things he probably hadn't realized anyone might have heard at all.
"I guess it's my love language or whatever." Lucy shrugged, moving about the kitchen. "My uncle married a hopelessly out of touch woman when I was thirteen. She heard I liked to read. So, for every holiday or birthday, this woman would alway buy me those dreadful penny novels from the market. The kind that are basically porn about pirates and vampires," Lucy laughed, and you did too. Those novels were definitely guilty pleasures. Who would think to gift them? Let alone to a teenaged girl who was probably just as wise beyond her years back then, too.
"I vowed to be a better gift-giver. But... I did always read those books." Lucy snorted a laugh. As you helped chop veggies and mix spices, she told you all the horrifically cheesy one liners from the novels she never wanted.
Soon your laughter drowned out the boys shouts from outside, and Ben rushed to join the party. He cranked music and danced around the kitchen while you prepared dinner, mixing drinks to test out the bevy of alcohol he’d purchased.
Rami joined in, while Joe and Gwil shared some kind of chat in the living room. You could see them past the wave of Rami's hand as he told a story. And no matter what they might have been talking about, the way Joe and Gwil kept stealing glances in your direction made your nerves stand on end. Luckily, you had enough vodka to stir up a different, much more manageable buzz.
It was picture-perfect organized chaos. You felt like you had back when you moved in with James and Andy, when they would throw parties just to celebrate random Saturdays. Back when you only knew Gwilym as the guy from down the road with a nice house and a pretty face. He still had those things, but now there was so much more that made up the tall man you willingly wrote your future off too. You missed Olive. But you knew she was happy and safe, and so were you. You took another shot to prove so.
"Come now." Lucy wheezed, a glass of wine and three shots of whiskey deep. She was still quoting the best of the worst lines she could remember from all those horrible romance novels she'd been gifted. "You're fighting your feelings for this man with all the strength of the Confederate Army."
"I'm sorry, what?" Joe gasped a laugh as he passed by, freezing in place. You and Lucy laughed too hard to explain why on earth she'd just said that. And when she caught her breath, Lucy only quoted something else,
"He tore open her blouse like a Publisher’s Clearing House letter."
"That's not real." You pointed, the ache in your gut finally from laughing too hard.
"Whatever you two are having, I'd like some." Joe decided, reaching past you to grab the bottle at your side. His arm brushing against your waist would have been enough to send you into a total blackout, but he just had to look right at you, too. As Joe grabbed the liquor and Lucy kept laughing, you noted that time seemed to stop; even on your second glass of rum. All because Joe dared to look right at you, like he so often did, like no one else ever had before.
Another drink, you decided. It had worked so far, and everyone else was on the quick path to getting wasted before dinner was finished cooking. Luckily, the smell of fresh sauce alerted everyone to gather around and conduct themselves to share a meal together.
The homemade pizza was better than you expected, and your hopes had grown very high as you helped make it. Everyone was in agreeance, scattered about the living room, paper plates in their laps, music still blasting from Ben's phone somewhere in the kitchen. But no one was happier than Joe. He raved over Lucy's thoughtfulness, and over the very tasty dinner that resulted. Rami poured everyone another drink as Ben insisted it was time for Joe to open his presents.
You all raced to collect the gifts you brought and made a very big deal out of making Joe take his time unveiling each. What more did you have to do than make an event out of every last minute together? To make sure Joe realized just how dearly he was cared for?
Ben had gotten Joe tickets to a rugby game, and some of his favorite English chocolates- Joe broke off pieces to share with every one of you. Lucy and Rami gave him an expensive-looking box of tea, alongside a clay mug decorated with stamps of delicate-looking dinosaurs.
Gwil got him a portable record player and said it was from the both of you. Gwil had taken notice that Joe was buying a bunch of vinyl on days off, and leaving the discs to collect in his suitcase for when he got back to New York. But he wouldn't be going home for a while still, so it seemed fitting to offer Joe a way to fill his drab Airbnb with some music until then. The auburn-haired lad lit up, and gave a heartfelt thanks to his extremely generous friends, insisting that an allnighter in this comfortable cottage was already more than enough.
"Oh wait, there's one last thing." You gave Gwil a sly smirk as you stood to pass a sealed envelope to Joe. Everyone leaned in close while Joe curiously unveiled a powder blue card with the words happy birthday simply scrawled on the front. It was blank inside, besides the harsh scribbles of crayon that Olive spent a long time jabbing into the paper. The 'drawing' was meant to be her birthday wish. You and Gwil singed your names at the bottom in pen, but you wrote Olive's name in the same pink crayon to match her efforts. You missed her.
"That is the cutest shit I've ever fucking seen." Ben cursed. It was your idea. Joe looked like he wanted to cry, but he only cracked up laughing for a very charming moment. Then he hugged you and Gwilym at the same time, repeating his thanks over and over again.
///
The drinks kept coming as night fell. You got tired of mixing your vodka and just went for it, because it really did kind of taste like blueberries. You all took turns in the only bathroom with a shower and eventually, Rami had roped everyone into some kind of drunk history type storytelling session.
Ben took a turn, jumping to his feet, anxious to tell the story of Frankenstein. The only problem being that he was hammered, and his efforts in recounting the details were hazy. So he started over from the beginning...
"Okay, pay attention everybody. Now," Ben slurred, spinning in the middle of the room to face where you sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Gwilym.
"So like, you and Gwil are Mary and Percy." Ben pointed. Gwilym looked your way as if he'd just realized you were on the other side of the couch.
"And uh, Joe can be Byron! Everyone wants to sleep with him... I think," Ben decided, hazily looking back to you. "Okay so just pretend you really want to for the sake of this story. It's very important-"
"Why can't Lucy and Rami be the Shelleys?" You blurted out in wonder, uncomfortable with this drunken imaginary scenario. Gwil rolled his eyes and reached for his drink.
"Because you're the married lot," Ben pointed. Gwilym honest to God nearly choked on his liquor.
"Oh yeah. Hey, why don't you guys wear rings?" Rami pipped up from across the way, gesturing between you and Gwil.
"You don't wanna know the answer to that." Gwil chuckled. Three shots of vodka and four glasses of rum were no excuse to be so flippant. You shot the guy a glare, hardly caring if anyone else saw the warning in your eye so long as Gwilym did.
"Moving on, who will you be, Ben?" Gwyilm conducted everyone's attention to the man in the middle of the room. Ben propped one foot on the coffee table, swaying in place as he declared,
"I'm the bloody doctor!"
As the blonde stumbled through his story, Lucy passed out in Rami's arms. Joe seemed to be the only one laughing along with Ben, as his narrative progressed. Every time Ben pointed to you and Gwil, the tension between the pair of you boiled dangerous fiercer. Warning looks meant to keep each other quite turned into something darker, glares more bittered than pitying.
When Ben lost his place long enough for silence to fall over the lot of you, Rami carried Lucy down the hall, shouting pleasant goodnights to the rest of the gang. You decided it was a sign, and stood to call it a night as well. Ben moved slowly to collect empty bottles while Joe started to collect his thoughtful gifts.
"I hope you've had a happy birthday, mate." Ben smiled to Joe before the blonde moved to help Gwil pick up a few of the discarded plates and cups. Joe was gathering his mess of presents, stalling to admire the card you thought to give him.
"Thank you for this." Joe grinned in your direction, scanning the card again, and opening it to examine the scribbles of crayon meant to be Olive's well wishes. The man with fossils for eyes beamed like a fool and you couldn't help but do the same; moving by his side to glance over the scratched greeting from your daughter, to Joe.
"You guys made one cute kid," Ben spoke up across the room. You blinked up, catching Gwilym's nod of appreciation toward Ben. "Do you think you'll ever have any more?" He wondered, casually.
You gave an automatic, tipsy shrug, not opposed to the idea, just not with Gwil of course. But they didn't need to know that.
"No, actually." Gwil glared at you, like he was upset you weren’t playing along or keeping a low enough profile. Like he hadn't been just as dangerously close to giving yourselves away.
"Are you guys alright?" Ben timidly wondered after a beat. Gwil just clenched his jaw shut and spun around toward the kitchen to finish cleaning up. You didn't know the answer to Ben's question, either.
So you hurried after Gwilym, your vision blurred, but your intention clear as day. You found him throwing his rubbish out with a sigh.
"Why are you acting like this?" You hissed, stepping close so no one else could hear.
"Blame it on the rum, dear." Gwilym shrugged but shot you a look that let you know he knew exactly what he was doing. He turned further into the room as you shot back,
"Drunk isn't a synonym for stupid. You should know to keep your mouth shut, you're the one who started this."
"Then shouldn't I end it?"
"It will never end!" You'd always be trading school pick-ups and planning birthday parties together. You knew Gwilym knew that.
"But this has to end. You won't tell, and you won't let me tell, so we're gonna break up the old fashioned way, got it?"
"What are you talking about?" You wondered, exhausted.
"I don't want to be married to you anymore! If I had a ring I would throw it on the ground." He spoke, loud and clear enough to get you to see a little straighter.
"Gwilym, what the fuck?" You let out a stunned laugh. You knew what he must have meant, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eye hit you right where it hurt most. You weren't married, but you might as well have been. Gwilym agreed with that sentiment through laughter most of the time. Because he was your friend. But it suddenly seemed like he didn't want to be anything at all, with you.
The thick silence was back when Joe sauntered into the kitchen like he might have been breaking the rules. You couldn't be sure if he'd heard or not, but when you turned away from Gwilym's glare, you saw Joe stood looking at you like his heart was broken.
You made yourself turn from his troubled gaze, turning out of the kitchen.
Gwilym was reluctantly hot on your trail, offering a hurried goodnight to his friend before meeting where you'd run off to. The bedroom was suffocatingly small, when Gwilym shut the both of you in, it felt like the walls were closing in.
"I get that this is fucked. We're fucked. But no one was around to hear that, Gwil. We've always been on the same team."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I just..." Gwil deflated as you floated onto the side of the little bed in the corner.
"Just what?" You worried, bracing for impact, preparing for this night to end on the sour note that rang in your ears now.
"I thought by shutting you out... pushing you away, that... God, it sounds dumb to say out loud. I'm just sick of watching you pretend. You deserve so much better, y/n." Gwilym explained, heavy eyes screwing shut in frustration.
"Well don't fucking do that! You're all I've got." You plead in a sorry whimper. You knew that Gwilym was drunk. And you knew he felt bad for what he said and was trying to make it better, now, by hanging his head before you.
Why did this keep happening? There wasn't anything to say anymore, was there? How about the truth, for a change?
"I think I must love him." You gave a sad little shrug, eyes fixed on the wall ahead of you. "And I'm really afraid that it won't matter if we 'break up' or not."
Gwil made his way to where you sat, slumping to join your side. He wrapped a sorry arm around your shoulder and you leaned in. There was a dangerous rumble of tears bubbling far below your surface, distant enough to curse away.
"We should get some sleep." Gwilym gently moved you to lay back till your head hit the pillow. You watched on as he relaxed at your side without a second thought. Hardly a courtesy, just a routine. It brought you a faint glow of comfort either way.
"Thanks, Gwil." You hoped he registered your tone, and all the things you were grateful for in the moment. You laid in silence as Gwil drifted off at your side. Even if you wanted to close your eyes you couldn't, not with the way your mind raced.
"I'll always be here for you, ya know?" Gwilym mumbled from his sleepy state, eye closed. "I'm sorry for what I said."
You hummed after a beat, watching him sleep. Still, you just kept staring up at the ceiling while your fake husband drifted off at your side. Try as you might, you couldn't keep your eyes shut.
Once the patterns on the wall stopped spinning, you made a very quiet escape, padding out into the hall as softly as you could.
The cottage was dark and quiet, save for the fire still flickering in the chimney from the living room. You were drawn to it like a moth, but you stalled in the shadows at the edge of the light cast among the furniture. Someone else was up. Actually, it looked like Joe had never gone to bed.
"Couldn't sleep?" Joe asked quietly, noting your presence. He was standing near the large fog-covered picture windows, slowly shuffling toward the middle of the room. Your feet moved in the same direction, as you shrugged in indecision.
"What about you?" You wondered, meeting Joe in the middle of the living area. He looked at you for a beat before easing to the floor, where he crossed his legs and leaned against the sofa behind him.
"My parents called. I miss them." Joe admitted softly. You decided to sit next to him, but not too close. You brought your knees to your chest and admired how Joe's profile looked illuminated by flickering firelight. You hummed in understanding, and Joe took that as the sign to say more. He started talking about New York and his tenth birthday- one he spent in the mountains of the desert. He was disappointed to find out it was still chilly there, this time of year. Then he asked you why you were still awake- like he knew there was more to the story.
And too much time passed while you wracked your brain for an excuse that didn't point in the direction of the truth. Why was it so easy to be with Gwilym, but so hard to act like you wanted to be? Joe lowered his eyes and after a while of quiet, he spoke up again...
"I wish we met differently."
"I don't. You didn't say anything wrong, then." You snapped a little too quickly. He couldn't possibly take that moment away from you. It was all you had. And even though you should have known better than to allude to that fact that you clung to Joe’s fist words to you, it was probably obvious you did, anyway.
"I wouldn't change what I said." Joe pointed quietly, yet assured. It was as if the flames flickering before you jumped into your belly when Joe's eyes locked onto yours, again. Holy shit pull it together. You knew if you didn't leave the room very soon that you would make a royal fool of yourself.
"Happy birthday. I should head back." You sighed reluctantly, stretching your legs in front of you, wishing Joe might stop you from going. And then he did speak up again, but he didn't say what you wanted to hear...
"Sweet dreams, Mrs. Lee."
"Please don't call me that." You replied without thinking. Because you were still a little buzzed. Because you couldn't think around Joe anyway. You registered his slowly twisting expression as if he was wondering why you seemed so upset. As if, maybe, he knew...
"It's far too proper. We're friends right?" You lamented in a pathetic hurry, feeling a pit open in your chest all the while. Joe focused on you, and you knew he could tell you were grasping at straws. As you held your breath and Joe's gaze, you noticed a look in his eye, as if he were making a decision.
"Yeah... we're friends, y/n." Joe softly expressed. The leather sofa quietly crunched as Joe stood and turned toward the dark hallway.
"Goodnight." His voice sounded heavy, even as it floated away from you. You were left against the sofa with a broken heart and a killer headache.
///
The next afternoon, you watched Joe turn his head away from you on his way down the rickety porch steps, sullen. You tried to pass the moment off as a hurry, when you noticed Lucy and Rami practically jogging out of the place to catch the shared ride. Tomorrow was another early day on set. No more time to waste.
But then your heart was practically shattered when Joe offered you a pitiful one-armed hug and a flat generic farewell before disappearing in the back of an uber with his friends. Lucy and Rami both had time for a few parting sentiments. Joe hadn't even really looked at you all morning. He was even a little distant from Gwilym as they shared a brief goodbye.
Ben shared your uber back into London, and ten minutes into your hour-long commute, the sweet guy asked if you were feeling alright.
"Too much to drink." You passed off the easy excuse and couldn't help but rest your head on Gwilym's shoulder. You wanted comfort. You knew he would give it to you, no questions asked, just like always.
He'd woken up last night when you came back to the tiny bed feeling much worse than you had before leaving there. You didn't know it, but Gwilym heard Joe tell you goodnight before you came back into the room. Since then Gwil was aching to know what happened- if anything. Something had to have by the way he monitored Joe's rushed goodbyes today and your sulking. If Ben would just, put headphones in, or something...
But you were perfectly content leaning against Gwilym and letting your stare gloss over. You started to convince yourself things were supposed to be this way. You tried to focus on heading back to Olive and Gwil's mother, the fun you were likely to have with the kind woman while she was still in town. But then she'd leave, and you'd be back to simply convincing yourself, like now. Ben caught your sulking stare, and you caught him studying you. The blonde's gaze lingered on you as if he knew something was very wrong... as if he knew you were lying. But what about, this time?
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92 @im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil @sadhwstudent @freakibanana
#joe mazzello#joe mazello x reader#joe mazzello fanfic#joe mazzello imagine#gwilym lee#gwilym lee x reader#gwilym lee fanfic#gwilym lee imagine
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Admittedly, I’m Hard to See
Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical
Chapters: 9/?
Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae)
The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell
Word Count: 1,604
Warnings: M for Language and Suggestive Content
Notes: ...you all knew going into this it was slow burn, yeah? ....right??
Chapter 9 - In Which Closeness is a Matter of Perspective
“Lyddy, when I said I would help you with the art show, I meant things like… carrying equipment. Or getting props. Maybe picking up extra film.” Holidae subtly tried to adjust the position of her foot, pins and needles already crawling along her skin. “Being a model is not on that list.”
Lydia walked over, kicking Holidae’s foot back into place, “You are helping. Hold still, you keep twitching and get all blurry.”
Infinitely thankful that they were quite alone in the cemetery that afternoon, Holidae muttered under breath, trying her best to hold the poses as Lydia commanded them. She was wrapped in several layers of sheer black organza, designed to mimic a sort of mourning gown with a bit of wedding charm thrown in for flavor. The result was surprisingly effective, but did nothing to stave off the cold autumn weather, and Holidae could already feel her extremities freezing over. She did promise Lydia she would help her a photo shoot, and she learned a valuable lesson about not trusting the small photographer as far as she could throw her.
“I think my fingers are frozen. They’re blue,” Holidae leaned against the nearby headstone for support.
“So are your lips, now hush.” Lydia maneuvered herself around the other girl, the camera shutter firing rapidly. “Lean back like you’re just overwhelmed with grief.”
“I’m overwhelmed with something,” Holidae tried to do as she was told, dipping her body backwards as far as she could. “This good?”
“More.” Another series of clicks.
Holidae wobbled, catching herself on the headstone, “I don’t bend that much.”
“Try,” Lydia came over and tried to balance her friend, who promptly caught her funny bone on the granite grave marker.
“Fuck you, you try!” Holidae hissed in pain, rubbing her elbow furiously. “Or you best pay a chiropractor.”
Lydia went back to her equipment, fiddling around with some different lenses, and giving Holidae a much needed break before they tried again. This wasn’t the first time she had roped her friend into posing for her photos, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last despite protests from the model. No matter what Lydia would try and get her to do, or how she would dress her up, Holidae would just go along with it. It was like having a doll to dress-up and torture in creative ways.
The only request Holidae ever made was that her face never be in full view, and Lydia always respected her wish. Whether it be a large hat brim, or in today’s case a veil, Holidae was kept away from curious eyes. The truth of the matter was Holidae was embarrassed of her looks, and always had been. Self-esteem was a rough, bumpy road to traverse; and there were good and bad days.
It was a touchy subject, and Lydia never pushed it.
Lydia tapped her fingernails on her camera bag, trying to think of a solution to the posing problem. After a few minutes, she let out an ah-ha, getting up and brushing some leaves off of her skirt. In one quick breath, she spoke her ghostly best friend’s name three times in a row, summoning him outside of the house for a change.
Beetlejuice looked happier than he’d been in a while, smiling ear to ear, and picking up the small girl with a twirl, “Lyds! We’re in a graveyard! What’s the special occasion? Someone die? Someone needing to die? Picking out a good plot? Don’t get one by a tree or the roots will get all gnarly and stick into your casket.”
Laughing as he set her down, she shook her head, “No, I need a favor, but nothing that major.”
He stuck his hands in his overcoat pockets, looking like a noir film detective, “Anything for you, babes.”
“I need you to bend Holidae over,” Lydia said pointing over to the woman desperately trying to warm herself up.
BJ did a double take so hard there was an audible crack of his neck, “…do what now?”
“Balance issues. If you go over there and help, I can get the pose I want and you won’t show up in the picture. It’ll look super cool, trust me. Just go over and she’ll explain what I want.” Lydia waved him away, unconcerned with her phrasing.
There was a moment of hesitation on Beetlejuice’s part; not really sure if this whole thing was a setup in some way that would get him banished forever, or something worse. Well, if Lydia wanted him to be a helpful little demon, who was he to argue with such an opportunity.
Humming to himself, he flourished his stroll over to Holidae with a spin, “Oh, what have we here? Getting all dressed up just for me, Holly-hock? I just adore the shade of blue on your skin.”
Holidae tried to straighten herself up, covering the more see-through parts of the draping with her arms, “W-what are you doing o-out h-here? Fuck it’s cold.”
Beej pulled her tight against him, “Body heat is the best solution of hypothermia, right?”
“Not when you’re an ice cube!” She shivered, torn between accepting his offer and freezing to death right then and there.
“Hey! Less flirting, more posing!” Lydia barked at the two of them. “Save that stuff for indoors, it’s gross. He’s there to hold you up so you don’t bash your head open on the rock.”
“Lydia, you say one more word and I’m throwing your camera off the bridge.” Holidae pried herself out of his arms, readjusting him so that he would support her back. “If you drop me, you’re dead.”
Beej snickered, giving her flesh a hard pinch, “Already dead, baby.”
“Smartass.” Holidae grit her teeth, but bent back with her arms splayed our behind her, “And I am fully aware that you’re getting a good view of my cleavage, so don’t even start with me.”
“I am getting Lyds the best birthday gift this year,” Beetlejuice made a very obvious show of studying Holidae’s chest.
Over the next hour, Lydia would move her two companions in different ways, getting the most out of the fact BJ wouldn’t show up in the film. It saved a lot of money on expensive photo editing programs; but it was also just a fun way to spend the afternoon together in a new environment. When things would get too serious, Beetlejuice would make some face at Holidae to get her laughing, ruining the next few shots Lydia took until they could compose themselves. Or, at least Lydia was claiming they were ruined.
She wasn’t about to tell them the truth: those candid shots were not being deleted off her camera.
During one of their breaks, Holidae sat herself down on a blanket Lydia had spread out her camera equipment on to keep it from getting dirty, holding her knees to her chest in efforts to keep warm. Without warning, something was dropped onto her head, mussing her hair as she pulled it down. It was a dirty, ratty grey coat. Stained and stitched together in odd places, carrying the heavy scent of tobacco and musty earth.
Strangely enough, it was warmer than she thought it would be, and she wrapped it around her body as best she could, “You might want to wash this once in a while. Maybe just spot clean.”
Beetlejuice flopped down next to her, digging a pack of smokes from the coat pocket, “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back. Ungrateful.”
She shook her head, burying herself deeper into the oversized clothing, “No no, I want it. I was just offering a suggestion. Thank you for not letting me freeze, I mean it. Honest.”
He took a long drag, the smoke hanging in the air due to the weather, “Eh, dying is what it is. Done it twice, not that exciting.”
Holidae looked around at the tombstones surrounding them, “Do you think these people would have the same opinion? What if they died doing something exciting?”
“I really don’t feel like digging them up and asking,” He shrugged, holding the cigarette between his teeth. “So what’s Lydia gonna do with all these photos anyway? Seems weird.”
“She keeps telling me she has a theme, but doesn’t want to jinx it with discussion and negative thoughts. I swear, she takes after her stepmother more than she wants to admit.” She picked at the blades of grass by her feet, “I just put up the pictures when they’re done.”
“Well, since she can’t have me as a model, at least she has something decent to work with.” He flipped the edge of the coat up, peeking at her sheer dress. “You’re not as beautiful and sexy as I am, but then again, nobody is.”
Holidae scooted backwards, tucking the coat back tight around her, “Hey, you’ll let the heat out! And good on you for self-confidence, but calling yourself sexy all the time is weird.”
Beetlejuice grabbed her by the ankles, dragging her back toward him, “Are you saying I’m not sexy?”
She was getting tangled in the coat, looking like an unhappy caterpillar, “No, I said that calling yourself sexy is weird. I would really appreciate you listening when I talk to you, Juice. I don’t just say things to hear myself prattle on.”
With a truly maniacal laugh, Beetlejuice jumped up, picking up Holidae in a bridal-style carry, and spun her around with a flourish. “Youuuuu think I’m sexy. You think I’m seeeexy~”
He set her back on her feet, leaving her to balance herself after all the spinning, and ran over to find Lydia.
“Lyds! Lyds, listen listen listen~ you’re friend said I’m sexy. Now you have to take back all those times you said I was only referring to myself as a sexual being to hide the fact that I have a lack of positive self esteem from a childhood borne of neglect. HA! Wait. Why are you running from me? Lydia!”
Writing Tags: @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @ashemspirit
#beetlejuice broadway#beetlejuice fanfiction#beetlejuice musical#beetlejuice the musical#beetlejuice x self insert#writing time#beetlejuice x oc
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“Ding Dong the Bells are Gonna Chime...!”
This Day in Julie-history: Julie Andrews weds first husband, Tony Walton sixty years ago on 10 May 1959.
When Julie Andrews and longtime beau, Tony Walton finally decided to marry in the English spring of 1959, they had hoped to keep the wedding relatively low-key. Rather than plump for a big city venue, the couple chose to hold the ceremony at the small parish church of St. Mary’s Oatlands in Weybridge, close to their collective family home of Walton-on-Thames in Surrey. In her memoirs, Julie recalls that, even though she and Tony had both grown up in the very next village, she “had to prove residency in the parish of Oatlands” in order to get married at the picturesque mid-Victorian church (Andrews: 258). So for six weeks prior to the wedding, the star moved into the nearby Oatlands Park Hotel, making the daily commute into London for ongoing performances of My Fair Lady.
However, as profiled in our last post, the couple’s courtship had been a focus of such intense media attention that there was little serious hope they’d be able to keep the wedding out of the public eye. And, lo, come the big day, a sunny and unusually warm spring Sunday, a phalanx of over sixty reporters, press photographers and newsreel cameramen was on hand to cover the event. What’s more, a huge crowd of fans and public well-wishers –– ranging in estimates from two to three thousand––congregated around the church and surrounding lanes to get a glimpse of the star bride. It was a carnival-like atmosphere complete with “ice cream men and even a winkle stall” (Rolls: 2). “The pretty tree-shaded churchyard looked like Hampstead Heath on a Bank Holiday Monday,” noted one press report, “as fathers, mothers and children struggled on the lawns littered with ice lolly-sticks and sweet papers” (Marlborough and Court: 5).
More than two miles of cars clogged the roads leading up to the church, so not surprisingly the bridal party was a little late in arriving, pulling up to the front of the church ten minutes behind schedule. As Julie emerged from the bridal car, led by father Ted Wells, the crowds surged forward and news crews rushed to get shots. Some women reportedly fainted in the crush and “[t]eams of police had their hands full making way for Julie” (Rolls: 2). “This crowd makes me more nervous than playing Eliza on the first night,” exclaimed the star (ibid.). Ever the consummate professional, Julie took it in stride with reporters marvelling that “throughout the Hollywood-style hysteria, Miss Andrews remained calm, cool and apparently unperturbed” (Marlborough and Court: 5).
She also looked every inch the resplendent star bride in a stunning seventy-yard rose-budded white organza gown that had been designed specially for her by husband-to-be Tony Walton. Made from the designs by Julie’s longtime friend, theatrical costumier Madame de Rachelle, who had provided several earlier bespoke dresses for the star, the bridal gown had an estimated cost of £350, a substantial amount for the time. Rachelle also helped dress Julie the morning of the wedding, painstakingly fastening all 72 buttons at the rear of the gown with a small buttonhook (Hickey: 5).
Once inside the church, the wedding party was able to relax a little during the 35 minute service. As the officiating vicar quipped, “Forget your friends inside the church and the crowds outside. There’s nothing high-falutin’ about a marriage service” (Hickey: 1).* The 300-strong guest list was weighted heavily with local friends and family but there were a few famous faces dotted among the pews, mostly theatre folk who had been important to Julie during her career. Stanley Holloway, Robert Coote, and Noel Harrison, son of Rex, were on hand to represent the My Fair Lady crew. Rex was unable to attend as he was abroad visiting his ailing wife Kay Kendall in Paris. Sandy Wilson and Vida Hope flew The Boy Friend flag and others were there from Julie’s early radio and pantomime years such as Hattie Jacques and Vic Oliver. Further celebrity friends included Maggie Smith, Svetlana Beriosova, Anne Rogers and the official wedding photographer was none other than Tony Armstrong-Jones (Cottrell: 118).
Following the ceremony, the bridal party and guests made their way to the reception at the Mitre Hotel in Kingston-on-Thames directly opposite historic Hampton Court. Thousands more lined the roads to cheer them on and some even hired rowboats in an effort to get a closer peek at proceedings from the riverfront (Rolls: 2). Inside, the three hundred invited guests were treated to a lavish champagne supper with dance music provided by Johnnie Howard and his Orchestra who played inevitable selections from My Fair Lady but also from Sandy Wilson’s Valmouth with which Tony had been successfully associated (“Denmark Street”: 7). Maintaining the dual theatrical theme, the three tiered wedding cake was topped with two miniature figures, one in Eliza Dolittle flower girl costume and the other in an artist’s smock (Cottrell: 121).
After it was all over, the newlyweds were driven straight to London airport to catch a late night flight to Los Angeles. It was billed as a two-week “honeymoon”, though it was in fact more of a working holiday with Julie taping a TV special with Jack Benny and Tony working on designs for a new musical (Cottrell: 122). Julie recalls that she and Tony slept most of the long flight to California, both exhausted from their big day. As the flight prepared to land, Julie writes that as she slowly roused, she saw Tony smiling at her in the next seat:
“’Help!’ I said to him in a very small voice. He nodded, knowing what I meant. The festivities were over; we were married and heading into the unknown” (Andrews: 262)
Notes:
* In her memoirs, Julie gives the name of the officiating vicar at the wedding as Rev. Keeping, “a charming man, kind and gentle in our meetings with him” (Andrews: 259). Press reports from the time, however, list him as Rev. John McKitterick (Hickey: 1; “Marriages”: 12; Rolls: 2). Far be it from us to suggest that she-who-is-practically-perfect-in-every-way got it wrong, which is why, in one of the photos accompanying our previous post, we followed Dame Julie’s lead and identified the kindly vicar as Rev. Keeping.
Sources:
“2000 at Julie Andrews’s Wedding.” Belfast Telegraph. 11 May 1959: 8.
Andrews, Julie. Home: A Memoir of My Early Years. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2008.
Cottrell, John. Julie Andrews: The Story of a Star. London: Arthur Barker, 1968.
“Denmark Street Doodles.” The Stage. 21 May 1959: 7.
Hickey, William. “Phew! What a Scramble for the Bride and the Motorist: My Fair Lady Marries Boy Next Door.” Daily Express. 11 May 1959: 1, 5.
Marlborough, Douglas and Court, Monty. “PictureMail Goes to the Stage Wedding of the Year: Shouting Women Delay Julie.” Daily Mail. 11 May 1959: 5.
“Marriages: Mr. T. Walton and Miss J. Andrews.” The Times. 11 May 1959: 12.
Nathan, David. “C-r-a-w-l-i-n-g Home But What a Loverly Day it was for a Wedding.” Daily Herald. 11 May 1959: 1, 3.
Rolls, John. “Cor! Wot a turn ant for Eliza...” Daily Mirror. 11 May 1959: 2.
Photographs by Tony Armstrong-Jones, Ron Burton, Kenneth Denyer, and Terry Fincher.
© 2019 Brett Farmer All Rights Reserved
#julie andrews#tony walton#wedding#1959#st mary's church#oatlands#weybridge#My Fair Lady#united kingdom#england#celebrity#stars
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Love Potion No. 9 (Andrew/Akko sin oneshot)
Okay guys, here is a limey-sin oneshot about Andrew and Akko! Hope you guys like it. This is post the anime.
Title: Love Potion No.9
Rating: M
Pairing(s): Andrew Hanbridge/Akko Kagari
Summary: As usual Sucy uses Akko as a test subject for her potions; unfortunately, it causes a lot more trouble than predicted.
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“kukukukuku” Sucy laughed as she poured the glowing liquid down Akko’s throat. She spent days working on this one and hoped it would have the intended results. Once done, she settled into bed across from her snoring roommate and awaited the outcome in the morning.
--------------
Akko sighed happily as she soared in the air. The wind caressed her face and she flew higher in the night sky, the stars sparkling around her. She let out a whoop of delight—finally she was able to fly on a broom! A figure caught her attention and she grinned, seeing it was Andrew. Lowering herself to the ground, she hopped off the broom and ran to him.
“Andrew! What brings you here?” Akko greeted. The boy gave her a smirk.
“Really? You haven’t figured out why I’m here? As usual, things seem to fly over your head I guess.” He teased. Akko stuck her tongue out at him.
“Hey! I’m not some silly girl! I’ve grown a lot since we first met!” Akko retorted. Andrew laughed, and Akko felt herself smile, soon giggling with him. He came closer to her, taking her hand, placing his lips against her skin carefully, before his tongue peaked out and traced her skin. Akko felt her heartbeat quicken and her cheeks flared up with a violent blush. She tugged her hand back, squawking in surprise.
“Andrew! What’s with you?”
“Nothing, Miss Kagari. I just want to show you how bewitching you are.” He stepped closer, as Akko backed up, her back hitting a tree trunk. Her face was a bright red as Andrew nuzzled her neck, placing feather-like kisses there. She sighed blissfully, relaxing into his embrace before jolting and shaking her head to snap herself out of it.
“A-ah Andrew!”
However, that didn’t last long as Andrew made eye contact with her, tracing her features with unhidden desire making her thighs clench together.
“You’ve lit my fire.” He whispered, and he kissed her so gently, but so passionately, that Akko moaned in pleasure, allowing his tongue to touch hers sensually. They separated, Andrew touching their foreheads together. “You must be mine.”
He kissed her again, more ardently, and Akko let him, grasping his jacket to keep herself upright as the heat pooled in between her legs. It was so intense that she felt herself throbbing with pleasure. He stopped kissing her, causing Akko to moan in protest, and he whispered in her ear.
“Akko.”
“Akko.”
“Akko”
“AKKO!”
Akko yelped, tumbling out of bed and hitting the floor with a bang. Sucy and Lotte surveyed her curiously as she hissed, nursing her head. She glared up at Sucy.
“What was that for, Sucy?!” she yelled.
“You were making a racket.” Sucy told her. “You were moaning loudly for that Hanbridge guy. You need a booty call?” Akko blushed hotly.
“W-what?! N-no! It’s not like that!! It was a nightmare!” Akko protested.
“What was the nightmare about?” Lotte asked from her bunk. Akko blinked, quickly trying to think of an explanation, but a strange sensation in between her legs made her pause, groaning as she shifted to rub some friction there, but made a whine when she got no release. Sucy and Lotte just stared at her.
“Are you all right, Akko?” Lotte asked. Akko shifted again, finding she couldn’t get rid of the hot feeling in between her legs and huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, but shivered as she realized when she brushed against her chest, her nipples were sensitive against the fabric of her shirt.
“I… ugh! I feel so frustrated! What’s wrong with me?!”
“Interesting…” Sucy commented, examining her closely. Akko backed up, startled, but it only served to make her neither regions brush up against her sheets and she moaned. “Guess that potion had some unforeseen side effects.”
“Potion?!” Akko shrieked. She narrowed her eyes and stood up.
“Sucy, what did you make her drink this time?” Lotte sighed, rubbing one of her eyes from sleep. Sucy shrugged.
“Just a new potion. Though it looks like instead of making her grow arms, it made her super horny.”
“Horny?! I’m not—”
“You look like you’re about to stick your hand down your pants and jerk one off right here.” Sucy cut Akko off. Akko blushed, fidgeting.
“W-whatever! Make it go away!” Akko demanded, turning her head in embarrassment. Sucy clicked her tongue.
“I don’t think that’s possible. I designed this potion to just ride its course.”
“What?! No! Sucy, you gotta be joking!” Akko squeaked, clenching her legs together trying to relieve the pressure. “I can’t go to class like this!”
“You could always call up Mr. Prince Charming for assistance.” Sucy teased. Akko threw a pillow at her in indignation.
“Sucy! She can’t be like this forever!” Lotte climbed down from her bunk. Sucy shrugged.
“It won’t be for forever. I don’t know when it will stop, but it definitely will stop. Maybe if she jerks it a couple of times, it will speed up the process.”
Akko gritted her teeth, clenching her fists. However, before she could do anything, Lotte got in between Sucy and Akko and placed her hands up in a placating manner.
“I’m sure it will wear off in a few hours like her other potions. For now, though, I think you should stay here. We’ll tell Professor Chariot you’re not feeling well.” Lotte tried to reassure her. Akko sighed miserably, not wanting to miss out on seeing her favorite professor, but she knew she had no other choice if she didn’t want to embarrass herself to the whole school.
“Sure! I won’t let this get me down! You’re right Lotte! It will probably wear off in a few hours.” Akko grinned.
-------------------
It did not let up in a few hours. Actually, to Akko, it seemed even worse than this morning. She huffed, tossing and turning in her bed, but finding no solace, she groaned and threw the covers off of her, raising up from her sheets.
The pressure between her legs was unbearable. She could feel her sex throbbing with need, and Akko obstinately refused to give it any relief due to stubbornness. She would not succumb to this potion! She was a witch dammit! She saved the world from peril! She could handle sexual frustration!
The throbbing seemed to grow more insistent at her thoughts.
“I need some air.” Akko concluded. She dressed herself for the day, being mindful that even the smallest brushes of fabric against her skin felt enjoyable and grabbed her broom. She snuck through the halls of the dormitories, hoping no one would come across her. Once outside, she readied her broom; however, she didn’t account for the feeling of friction against her sex the broom would provide. She gasped at the sensation, slightly moving up and down as she adjusted herself, wanting more of the feeling, but too stubborn to give in. Akko bit her lip, refusing to cry out in desire as she maneuvered herself to be ready for flight.
“Akko?” a voice asked.
Akko yelped, blushing hotly at being caught in a compromising position, and turned to see Diana gazing at her with interest. The blonde-haired witch raised an eyebrow.
“Lotte and Sucy said you were sick. Why aren’t you in bed?” Diana asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Akko gulped.
“I—you see… I um!” the brown-haired witch tried to scramble for an explanation that didn’t reveal her predicament. She would never be able to live it down if Diana knew Sucy’s potion made Akko want to ride her broom in more ways than one just to relieve tension.
“Are you playing hooky?” Diana asked her, crossing her arms. She came closer to Akko, pulling out her wand to cast a diagnostic spell to see if the girl was indeed fine. However, her eyes widened when her wand glowed, alerting her that something was indeed wrong. She looked at Akko in concern. “Akko, what’s wrong?”
“I—I—I gotta go!” Akko yelled, casting the spell to take flight and zipped away into the sky as fast as she could, leaving a worried Diana calling her name.
----------------------
Akko breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the wind across her face, cooling down her heated body. This is what she needed. She needed the air, the clouds, the open sky. Sure, she still felt the pressure down there, but at least she had flying to distract her.
“Heyyyyyy Akko!”
Akko’s peaceful musing screeched to a halt as she came across Amanda, flying towards her. The other witch didn’t seem to notice Akko’s horror as she fell into flight beside her.
“What are you doing up here? Everyone’s been looking for you! Diana even contacted rich boy to look for you because she was so worried. Are you in some kind of trouble? You know we can help.” Amanda reassured her. Akko avoided looking at her, a blush creeping up her neck.
“I’m not in trouble.” Akko admitted. “Just needed some air.” Amanda surveyed her in confusion.
“But Diana said her spell said there was something wrong with you. You shouldn’t be out flying if you don’t feel well, you know.” Amanda told her in concern. They locked eyes and Amanda could see conflict in her fellow witch’s crimson eyes. Worry tugged at her. “Is it something really bad?”
Akko debated whether or not she should tell her, but she felt guilt nag at her heart. She didn’t like worrying all of her friends, and to hear that Diana organized a search party for her was both touching and made her feel awful that she put others through that ordeal. Taking a deep breath, Akko opened her mouth to reply.
“Well, Sucy’s potion had some kind of weird side effects.” Akko confessed. Amanda titled her head.
“Wait, you’re like this cause of Sucy’s potions? Why didn’t you just ask Professor Chariot to give you an antidote?”
“That’s the thing, actually, Sucy designed this potion to just ride its course. There’s nothing that can be done about it.” Akko said nervously.
“So that’s why you’re running away? Doesn’t seem like a big deal. Sucy gives you potions all the time—why is this one different?” Amanda blinked, inquisitive, and not understanding why Akko was so worked up. She raised an eyebrow when Akko’s entire face lit up in shame.
“This one… makes me super horny…” Akko whispered. A moment of silence passed between them. A beat. Amanda blinking, comprehending what Akko said, before bursting out into laughter, twirling on her broom from laughing so hard. Akko’s blush was so violent that she was glowing from her neck to the roots of her hair. She growled, glaring at the other witch who was laughing at her. “It’s not funny Amanda!”
Amanda continued to guffaw like it was some hilarious joke. She held her stomach as she talked between giggles.
“I’m sorry!” a laugh here “You’re fleeing from everyone—” another laugh “—because you really wanna get laid!” a snort.
“Stop laughing! This is embarrassing!” Akko whined, crossing her arms. Amanda tried to control her laughter for Akko’s sake, realizing that perhaps she wasn’t really helping Akko’s case to run away. She wiped a tear from her eye, a saucy grin on her face.
“Alright, sorry sorry.” Amanda placated her. She snickered a bit. “Just… why didn’t you just say so? There’s nothing to be uncomfortable about! It’s completely normal to get horny once in a while.”
“Not like this! Sucy says it looked like I was about to jerk one off right in front of them!” Akko protested. Amanda rolled her eyes.
“So why don’t you? Just jerk one off I mean.” Amanda questioned. Akko spluttered. Amanda shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with it. All people do it. It’s natural.”
Akko shook her head, a huge red blush across her cheeks.
“I-it’s weird! I don’t want to do that and have everyone know I did that!” Akko claimed. Amanda had a pensive expression on her face.
“Why not do it with another person then? Would that help?” Akko’s indignant yells were her answer, but Amanda kept going. “I mean, you don’t want to do it by yourself so naturally you should ask someone to help you out.”
“I can’t do that! Who would I ask?” Akko asked. Amanda grinned, flying closer to her.
“Heh, well I’m sure I wouldn’t mind if you asked me. Hell, I’m sure even Diana would help if you asked. Luna Nova is notorious for girl on girl action—just no one ever announces it.” Amanda winked. Akko shook her head furiously, ridding of the images of Diana or Amanda seducing her, her face flushed.
“I’m not asking Diana to jerk me off! Hannah and Barbara would never let me live it down!” Akko told her, turning her head and crossing her arms.
“Hmmm.” Amanda thought, pondering hard on a solution for Akko, before a light bulb went off in her head and she cupped her fist. “Oh! What about rich boy? I’m sure he would be okay with it!” a sound like a record screech sounded in Akko’s head, causing her to stop dead in the air. She whipped her head to face Amanda so fast she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash.
“A-A-A-Andrew?!”
“Yeah. Him. I mean he was pretty worried about you. Maybe go to his mansion and ask for a booty call.” Amanda shrugged.
“No way!” Akko shouted. Amanda titled her head.
“Why not? Do you not like him?”
“N-no! It’s not like that!” Akko blocked out her dream from earlier, not wanting to moan at the feelings it caused within her. “I just—he’s all prim and proper! What makes you think he’ll agree to something like this?”
“Only one way to find out!” Amanda grinned, taking off towards the Hanbridge mansion. Akko screamed in horror, racing after her to prevent even further humiliation. This could not be happening to her! She can’t let Amanda get to Andrew and ask him to-to—to give her nookie!
The moon shined above her, illuminating her way to the Hanbridge mansion. She landed on the side of the mansion, taking cover near the bushes. She searched around for Amanda or maybe even Andrew, so she could steal him before Amanda got to him. She crept along the side of the mansion, surveying her surroundings and making sure she wasn’t caught by the staff, knowing that despite saving the world, Paul Hanbridge would not appreciate witches sneaking around his property.
The heat between her legs came back with vengeance, aching in incessant need to be released. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and growled in frustration. Why of all times did this have to happen now?!
She continued to look for Amanda, but she couldn’t find any trace of her. Meanwhile, her sex continued to pulse with want. She leaned up against a wall of the mansion, clenching her legs together to try and relieve the pressure, but nothing seemed to work. She shut her eyes, her dream flashing before her, and she whimpered in need. Dropping her broom onto the ground, she ran her hands over her body tentatively, unsure if she should be doing this. The sensation sent waves of delight through her to her core, and Akko hummed in appreciation. Nevertheless, she realized what she was doing and stopped short, pausing. She looked down at herself, before looking side to side, finding no one.
The ache was becoming too much to bear. She had to do something to help relieve her frustration. She gazed down at her body, where her hands were placed, and shyly put them against her breasts, cupping them experimentally. She stuck her tongue out, licking her lips as she ran her thumbs over where her nipples should be, and a jolt of pleasure ran all the way to her core. Sighing in bliss, she closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall and continued teasing her nipples through the fabric of her uniform.
As she closed her eyes, she pictured her dream where she was up against a tree with Andrew pinning her there with his body, his tongue tracing the skin of her neck before ravishing her mouth fervently. She moaned in happiness at the images in her mind, one of her hands leaving her breasts to slide down to where the heat pooled at her core. Desire overcame shame, as she slipped her hand underneath her dress and teased herself through her underwear. A mew of joy escaped her lips, increasing the pacing of her strokes. She wondered what it was like with another person doing this. Did it feel just as good? Did it feel better? Her fantasies ran wild in her head as she slipped beneath her panties and stroked her moist folds. She gasped, the feeling radiating throughout her body as her entire being thrummed with absolute bliss. She pictured Andrew’s hands slipping lower than her waist, slipping them underneath her uniform and—
“M-Miss Kagari?”
And like that, the illusion was shattered. Akko’s eyes opened in horror as she felt her fantasies crumbling around her, yanking her back to reality, to where she was, what she was doing, and who exactly had caught her in this state.
Andrew’s green eyes were wide as they locked with Akko’s mortified ruby ones. He looked breathless, like she robbed him of all sense of oxygen, as he drunk in the sight of her wantonly pleasuring herself against his mansion. Akko wanted to die right then and there. Of all the things that could’ve happened, this was probably the worst. Here Andrew was, looking at the person who was fantasizing about him pleasuring her, and he seemed to have been in so much shock that he had forgotten all sense of propriety and stared at her with his lips parted.
Tears of frustration from being denied her release and humiliation at being caught gathered in her eyes. Guilt filled her as she realized that she was fantasizing about her friend in a lewd manner right outside his home and she was consumed with a feeling of her being disgusting. He probably won’t want to be her friend anymore after this. It’s best if she leaves right now before the damage gets worse. She removed her hand from her panties, the sound catching Andrew’s attention while he zeroed in on exactly where her fingers were, and she covered her face, not wanting to show him her tears.
“I-I just wanted relief! It won’t go away! I hate this potion so much! I’m sorry! Please forget about this! Please don’t hate me!” she began sobbing, all the turmoil of the day getting to her as she dropped to her knees, wanting to leave, but her body was just too out of whack for her to make a move to run. Andrew didn’t say anything as she cried—he had probably left her out of revulsion too, she thought bitterly—and she felt the sadness overtake her.
However, she was surprised when someone touched her shoulder, and she glanced up to see Andrew looking at her with compassion. She teared up more as he was kneeling on the ground in front of her. Shock filled her as he pulled her to him, holding her close, like he wasn’t repulsed at all with her. Akko gripped him, afraid he’ll come to his senses and push her away. She hiccuped and sniffled, trying to get herself together for the eventual talk they would have, but she couldn’t bring herself to calm down so soon. Andrew just held her there in the bushes where the moonlight shined down on them, giving her all the time she needed.
When she finally fell silent, Andrew stroked her hair before pulling back and gazing into her eyes.
“When I got an owl from Diana that you had run off and there was something wrong with you, I left my duties and went looking for you, but I couldn’t find you. Then Miss O’neill came and told me you ingested a potion that gave you some very adverse effects and you needed my assistance. I ran outside looking for you and then I found you here…” he didn’t finish his explanation, both knowing what he had saw, and for her sake he didn’t voice it. He sighed tiredly, stroking her hair again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Miss Kagari.”
It was a soft command, letting her know that she could keep silent if she wanted, but he would prefer her to tell him the truth. Akko sniffled, looking down at her lap, not being able to face him as she explained her situation.
“The potion caused my body to be really sensitive to touch and I feel it aching. I don’t know what to do. Sucy says I have to wait it out—we don’t really know anything about it besides that. I just wanted relief. It feels so awful. I just wanted to feel better…” she trailed off, a hiccup bursting through her lips. Andrew’s serious expression didn’t change. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“I see.” His eyes lit up in understanding, connecting the dots. He sighed, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. He stood up, seeming to have decided something and holding out a hand to Akko, giving her a small reassuring smile. “Come with me then.”
“Eh?” Akko blinked. Andrew didn’t lose his patience with her, trying to keep her at ease.
“Let’s go make you feel better. Out here is too noticeable.” He said. Akko blinked again, tilting her head, and then a blush rose on her cheeks. He was going to find a place for her to take care of her business. Relief filled her at his kindness, glad she had such a good friend. She took his hand, being quiet when he signaled no noise, and led her across the courtyard to a side door. They entered soundlessly, avoiding any personnel on their way to wherever they were going. He led her down multiple halls and up stairs before they arrived at a door. He opened the door and Akko was greeted to the sight of a luxurious bedroom with a bathroom attached. They both entered, Akko removing her shoes and plopped on the bed, the smooth fabric against her skin feeling erotic. She shivered, the ache in her core so strong. She clenched her thighs together again and looked up at Andrew who was studying her. Having been caught, the boy coughed and covered his mouth, hiding a blush.
“This is my room. No one will disturb us here and the walls are sound proof, so you can make noise. It’s safe here.” He told her, looking away, afraid if he looked at her anymore he’ll self-combust. Akko smiled.
“Thank you.” She said sincerely. She then grew nervous. “Should I come get you when I’m done?” she asked.
“What?” Andrew raised an eyebrow in confusion. Akko blushed further.
“Well… I can’t just… not while you’re in the room.” She said. Andrew felt realization dawn on him and his face erupted into a blush of his own. He didn’t realize she didn’t catch the meaning of his words. But then again, a fond smile coming on his face, Miss Kagari was always obtuse to certain things.
“Ah, Miss Kagari. I think you misunderstand. I don’t intend to leave you in such a state. I meant it when I said we were both going to make you feel better.” Andrew said, trying to not explode from mortification at what he was offering, but for Akko, he would do it to help her. She was very important to him. It was the least he could do for her. Akko blinked before comprehension smashed into her skull, her entire face rosy red.
“Eh????” she exclaimed. She pointed a finger at him. “N-n-no way! Andrew’s a playboy?!” Andrew’s face glowed and he took on an offended look.
“Of course not!” he denied, crossing his arms. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do you always have to make things more difficult?”
“Well how can you say that so easily?!” Akko continued to point. “You should only be doing stuff like that with someone special!”
“As far as I am concerned, you are special to me.” Andrew stated seriously. The confession made Akko blink, pointing to herself.
“Me? How am I special?” she asked curious. Andrew shook his head, an amused smirk appearing on his features, chuckling a little. His husky chuckle made the girl’s sex pulse, and Akko fought down a blush on her face. He walked over to her, taking a seat on the bed next to her and laid back, staring at the ceiling.
“I was always conditioned to follow what my father wanted or what my elders expected of me. I never had an independent thought of my own.” He starts, and then he looks at her with a small smile, “And then here comes you, all boisterous and loud and full of such life that I couldn’t do anything except be dragged along for the ride. Seeing you follow your dreams—it changed me. I had thoughts of my own that differed from my father. I had developed new goals to make my life better and more enjoyable instead of pushing my wants aside for the sake of my family’s appearance like I did before.” Akko felt her heart pound intensely as Andrew gazed up at her. “You changed me into a better person. You make me smile just by being you. Suddenly I didn’t just go through the motions of life because I had to—I started making a life of my own because I wanted to.”
Seeing him looking up at her with such a boyish smile and eyes so full of sincerity and devotion made her heart warm with affection. For the first time, her desire didn’t control her actions, and she felt herself lean down and place her lips against his. He made a noise of surprise before moving his lips beneath hers, kissing her back. His hand reached up and caressed her face softly. She pulled away bashfully, feeling the need to flee, but he stroked her cheek tenderly and Akko swallowed, drowning in his gaze.
“Have you ever done this before?” she whispered, not wanting to break the trance they were in. Andrew shook his head.
“No. Have you?” he asked, tracing his thumb upon her lips. Akko shook her head.
“My first kiss was from a kid who gave me mono.” Akko confessed, and Andrew chuckled.
“If you give me mono, I won’t be mad.” He promised. Akko still looked unsure.
“I… are you sure you want to do this with me?” she was starting to second guess herself, turning her face away. Andrew blinked, wondering why she was hesitating. His hand reached up and directed her to look down at him again.
“I believe I made my intentions clear with kissing you back.” Andrew told her. Akko bit her lip, and Andrew felt his own body thrum with want at the sight.
“Aren’t you disgusted with me? You saw me… you know…” Akko answered. Andrew’s mouth dropped open.
“You think I’m repulsed by you because I caught you pleasuring yourself?” he asked baffled. She nodded, continuing to bite her lip and Andrew sat up, kicking his shoes off and climbing all the way on the bed to join her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes, and Akko saw complete honesty shining in their depths.
“Miss Kagari—Akko.” He corrected, addressing her intimately. “You have absolutely no idea what I think about you, do you?”
“Think of me? I mean, we’re friends and I know you sometimes find me annoying…” Akko said. Andrew shook his head and laughed. Even now, Akko was oblivious.
“When I saw you, I thought my heart was going to explode and I had to control myself from getting on my knees in front of you to pleasure you in any way you wanted.” He confessed, touching their foreheads together. “You affect me in the basest of ways, making me want to worship every part of you and show you how bewitching you really are.”
Akko felt her lips part in disbelief, absorbing what Andrew said. Her cheeks were aflame in shyness and yearning. Andrew took her in, memorizing every detail of her expression before backing away, giving her space. Akko made a noise of protest at the loss of his touch.
“But I won’t do any of that unless you want it. What’s most important to me is your comfort—my feelings be damned. I will only touch you if you ask me.” He declared. Akko took everything he told her in her head, fondness swelling in her heart and body raw with need. His words awakening a fire within her, running through her veins and igniting an inferno in her entire body. She reached out, grasping the lapels of his jacket tightly, gasping.
“I want you to touch me. Please.” She begged. Andrew obliged, allowing her to yank him forward and crash their lips together. He embraced her, holding her close as she climbed onto his lap, hooking her legs around his torso. He groaned as Akko grinded herself on top of his lap, clutching at her possessively. Her tongue traced his lips and he opened his mouth, allowing her to explore the cavern of his mouth. Andrew fell back onto the bed, Akko straddling him, rubbing her sex against his like an animal in heat. Andrew released a growl, his hands gripping Akko’s bare thighs tightly. The sound made Akko wetter, and she moaned when Andrew’s hands drifted up under her skirt to stroke the skin there. She pulled back from his mouth, busying herself with his neck, unbuttoning his shirt at the top hurriedly in order to nibble, lick, and suck more exposed skin. Andrew hissed, bucking his hips upward to meet Akko’s. Akko gasped at the satisfying sensation.
“I thought we were supposed to be pleasuring you.” Andrew panted while Akko sucked on a particular spot on his neck. He was fully hard under Akko but didn’t want to make it about himself when she was the one in distress. Akko shook her head.
“But I should make it good for you.” She protested. Andrew smirked, and grasped her hips, effectively flipping them over, him looming over her. Akko squeaked at the devilish look in his eyes.
“I’m not the one suffering from an aphrodisiac potion.” He pointed out. Akko reached up and helped him remove his jacket and Andrew flung it somewhere, not caring where it ended up. Akko huffed.
“Well excuse me for trying to be considerate.” Akko said. Andrew chuckled. He fingered Akko’s belt and undid it while Akko pulled her dress over her head, throwing it away. She was now only clothed in a button-down shirt and her panties. Andrew felt himself be filled with arousal.
“I believe you were the one asking for me to touch you.” He pointed out, kissing her briefly before unbuttoning her shirt. Akko shivered as her shirt was removed and she felt the cold air touching her skin. Andrew’s hands touched her body, tracing every curve she had, and Akko shivered for entirely different reasons. Andrew smirked at the effect he had on her.
She whined in impatience and tugged him down again, their lips joining together multiple times as Akko unclipped her bra and Andrew slipped it off, chucking it away. They separated, Akko blushing at being exposed. She moved to cover her chest, but Andrew grasped her hands tenderly, bringing them to his lips and kissing them lovingly while gazing warmly into her eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” He murmured. Her heart pounded while she smiled shyly. She pulled his hands forward and placed them on her chest. His thumbs brushed up against her nipples. Akko moaned happily, causing Andrew to increase his efforts and placed his lips upon one of her perky nipples, running his tongue over the pink pebble. Akko ran her hands through his hair as she writhed beneath him, mewing in delight. Andrew continued to kiss down her body, leaving her chest, journeying down her stomach to where the waistband of her panties were. Andrew paused, locking gazes with Akko’s eyes half-lidded in lust.
“If I may?” he asked her for permission. Akko nodded, biting her lip. He gave her a smile and slowly removed her last piece of clothing. Akko sighed in relief, the barrier away from her core gone. Andrew’s eyes caressed her naked form, drinking in her appearance. To him, she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. “You’re so stunning.”
Akko gave him a loving smile, touching his cheek, and he grinned, kissing the palm of her hand. He placed himself in between her legs, drawing patterns on her bare skin, and kissing the inside of her thigh softly. Akko trembled in anticipation, feeling his breath near her sex. Andrew took his time, showering her thighs with gentle kisses. Akko let out a noise of impatience and she felt Andrew grin against her skin.
“Impatient, are we?” he teased. Akko snorted.
“Are you really going to make me beg?” Akko whined.
“Perhaps.” Andrew continued to grin. Akko huffed. She moved her hand to touch herself before Andrew grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers, eyes shining up at hers in endearment and his lips quirked up. “I apologize. I may not show it, but I’m a little nervous. I want to make this good for you.”
“Well, we can sto—ah!” she was interrupted as Andrew’s tongue flickered out and teased her moist folds. Her hips bucked towards him while Andrew continued to pleasure her with his mouth. He lapped up her juices, his licking becoming so intense that Akko moaned loudly, grasping him by his hair. Shocks of pleasure resonated throughout her body, causing her to writhe, the sensations building up within her like a tightly wound coil. Akko felt as if she was going to overflow or burst. Andrew increased his pace, twisting his tongue in just the right spot and Akko cried in ecstasy, experiencing the feelings within her erupting like a geyser as the pleasure overflowed, running through her entire body. Andrew didn’t let up as Akko rode out her orgasm, feeling another one following soon after the first.
Akko’s entire body thrummed with bliss as she came down from her orgasmic high. She sighed, relief flowing through her. The pressure between her legs finally let up and she was able to lay there, basking from Andrew’s ministrations. Andrew pulled back, examining her.
“Are you all right?” he inquired, moving to touch her cheek. Akko nodded, grinning stupidly.
“Much better.” She replied. He laughed, relief showing on his features as he stroked her face with his thumb. A wicked gleam entered Akko’s eyes then. She sat up, pushing Andrew down on the bed, climbing on top of him to straddle his waist. She grinded against him, causing Andrew to emit a groan. “But I think I have one more in me.” She winked.
Andrew chuckled and shook his head, clutching her hips as they rubbed against each other. The sight of Akko completely naked on top of him was so sexy that he knew he was close. They continued to move their hips together, their pace becoming more erratic the further the desire built up between them. Finally, they both came at the peak of their frenzy.
“Ah! Andrew!” Akko whimpered.
“A-Akko!” Andrew called out breathlessly.
They both panted, their hearts beating wildly against their rib cages. Akko fell beside Andrew, sighing in joy at the pressure being completely gone. Sucy’s potion was gone. She laughed in relief. Andrew glanced at her.
“Are you all right?” he asked. Akko continued to giggle, turning her head to face his, her eyes sparkling, and Andrew sucked in a breath, his heartbeat quickening.
“Never better. It’s gone! The pressure is all gone! You made it go away!” Akko cheered, waving her arms in victory. Andrew maneuvered so he wouldn’t be hit by her arms. He gave her a smirk.
“I’m glad I could be of service.”
Akko nodded, grinning, before it hit her she was completely naked while he was still clothed and immediately dove under the blankets to cover herself. Andrew blinked.
“A-anyway! Could I have some clothes? It looks like I’m going to be staying here for the night.” Akko said, flustered. Andrew smiled, finding her shyness cute, and retrieved some night clothes for her and gathered some for himself. He placed the pajamas by her before going to the bathroom to change in order to give her privacy. Akko immediately put the clothes on, exhaling in fatigue. She made herself comfortable under the covers when Andrew exited that bathroom, wearing a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt. He gave her a smile, the sight of her small form cuddled up in his huge bed very charming.
“I’ll set the alarm, so you can make your escape before the staff wakes up.” He told her. Akko nodded, grateful for the plan of leaving, making a note to grab her broom where she left it at the side of the mansion. “Do you want me to sleep on top of the covers?” Andrew asked. Akko shook her head.
“It’s fine.” Akko smiled at him. “I don’t want you to be cold.”
Andrew lifted the covers, entering the bed, turning to give Akko space, despite wanting to be close to her. He switched off the lights and settled for sleep. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat when he felt Akko cozying up to his back, encircling her arms around his waist.
“Andrew?” she voiced out.
“Hm? What is it?” he asked.
“You’re special to me too.” Akko smiled, clutching him tighter. Andrew smiled too.
#akko kagari#ankko#andrew hanbridge#lwa#little witch academia#lotte yanson#sucy manbavaran#andrew/akko#andrew x akko#atsuko kagari#diana cavendish#amanda o'neill#sin#ankko sin#rated m#lime
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Miraculous Ladybug Version
Black Cards
v Ladybug’s suit is made of ( ).
v Plot twist! The real villain of the show is ( ).
v Who is Chat Noir’s greatest admirer?
v I got arrested by Robocop for ( ).
v What is the function of Chat Noir’s bell?
v I’m Marinette, just a normal ( ), with normal ( ).
v Chloe could only stare when she saw ( ).
v What item of mine would an Akuma possess?
v Where was Ladybug keeping that textbook?
v Coming up in Season 2: ( )!
v ( )? What am I supposed to do with this?!
v Jagged Stone’s new hit single ( ), is about ( ).
v Adrien’s go to excuse is “I had to ( )”.
v Adrien and Nino aren’t ( ), they’re just ( ).
v In an unexpected twist Hawkmoth is revealed to be ( ).
v Marinette and Alya gave each other matching stares. Why?
v The real reason Marinette doesn’t like Chat ‘like that’ is because ( ).
v Ladybug’s Lucky Charm has produced ( ).
v Kim dared Alix to ( ).
v ( ): The no.1 reason people are Akumatised.
v Adrien falsely believes that ( ), is Ladybug.
v Jackady should have hypnotised ( ), to believe that they are ( ).
v ROCK & ( ), BABY!!!!
v Adrien’s bodyguard is secretly ( ).
v Gabriel has designed something completely new. What is it?
v Kim once stated he could ( ), better than ( ).
v Where is Chat Noir now?
v Mister Pigeon, but instead of pigeons it’s ( ).
v What does Gabriel do in his office all day?
v What is Adrien’s favourite Anime?
v Chloe caused an Akuma by ( ).
v Chat will finally woo his lady with ( ).
v Hawkmoth secretly enjoys ( ).
v In the last fight, Chat Noir got distracted by ( ).
v The biggest difference between sub and dub is ( ).
v Ladybug likes to scratch Chat Noir’s neck when he ( ).
v Look up! It’s ( )!
v Miraculous, Simply the Best, Up to the Test, ( )!
v Chloe always knew how to make the worst Akuma’s. What is her newest one?
v Why is Lyla such a lying bitch?
v Gabriel Agreste has decided to become a better father by ( ).
v What is the newest addition to Chat Noir’s costume?
v Kwami’s like to ( ), in their spare time.
v What is Marinette’s new nickname?
v Why don’t Ladybug and Chat Noir recognise each other?
v What is the newest power of the Cat miraculous?
v What is the newest Akuma?
v Why is Natalie so apathetic all the time?
v Where do the Miraculous’s come from?
v ( ), & ( ), the hottest new ship in Miraculous Ladybug.
White Cards
v The love of your life being 5000 years to old for you. (Supposedly)
v That one Adrien/Plagg fic we’re all afraid of.
v A laser pointer.
v Chat Noir in heels.
v Evil laughter, courtesy of Hawkmoth.
v Being repeatedly beaten by 2 teenagers.
v The word ‘Evilise’.
v A birthday lunch break to remember.
v Sending all the adults into space.
v Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur, happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr…
v “I feel no pain when I am with you, because you are my ibuBROphen”. -Nino to Adrien at some point, probably
v Chat’s night vision.
v A Venus flytrap diary case.
v Standing in a dark room surrounded by butterflies until someone gets sad.
v Throw Chat Noir at the problem.
v Chat Noir’s clumsy cuteness.
v Plagg’s inability to do his job.
v Losing by ‘only’ half a million votes.
v Weather girls.
v Chat Noir’s sweet dance moves.
v Years of butterfly paranoia.
v A Chat on a hot tin roof.
v Getting high off catnip.
v Chat’s sass.
v The Umbrella scene.
v The Christmas special.
v The inability to remember a kiss.
v Marinette’s inability to articulate a sentence around Adrien.
v Gabriel’s resting bitchface.
v Boyfriend material.
v A love square with only 2 people.
v Girls smell better than cheese.
v Chat Blanc.
v The entire fandom forgetting that the main characters are minors.
v A magical cat-boy who wears leather.
v The blue scarf.
v The fandom hating certain sides of the love square. (Even though they’re the same people)
v Tomas Astruc reading your poorly written Ladynoir fanfiction right now.
v Combining the Miraculous’.
v Chat Noir flexing.
v Felix’s thigh high boots.
v Feather allergies.
v Dragging Chat Noir by his tail.
v Blaming Chloe.
v Transforming out in the open.
v The Shower Scene.
v Marinette’s eye makeup that’s always on fleek.
v Chat Noir sniffing Ladybug.
v Chat Noir’s domanatrix cat suit.
v The plot twist we can all see coming.
v She didn’t SIGN the FREAKING CARD!!!!
v Pound it!
v Pastries from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.
v A shrine to the Ladynoir ship.
v Adrien sitting like a cat.
v Antibug.
v Croissants.
v Basically, French Sailor Moon.
v Adrien’s fantasies.
v A giant hairdryer.
v Everyone forgetting Felix.
v The secret purpose of Chat Noir’s zipper.
v Nino the Awesome.
v “2 Ladybugs, I’m in Heaven”.
v Cat ears.
v A billboard with Adrien’s face on it.
v Waltzing right in and taking the Mona Lisa.
v Becoming a superhero before you turn 18.
v A magical unicorn from the planet, Rispa.
v Trying to get a spider-man kiss, but being dropped on your head instead.
v That crazy Pharaoh guy and his dumb motivation.
v Ineffective villains.
v A magical yo-yo.
v Horrificator’s slime.
v Mr Pigeon.
v Trying to literally kill people because a teenager insulted your partner.
v Forcing people to dance at a birthday party.
v A glitch in the CGI.
v Huffing perfume.
v Magical, all-knowing Ladybug vision.
v A near reveal.
v Attacking Paris with bubbles.
v Designing.
v Adrien’s “missing” mother.
v Tom Dupain’s sick biceps.
v Licking yourself like a cat.
v Abandonment issues.
v An elderly Chinese match-maker in a Hawaiian shirt.
v Bad parenting.
v Camembert.
v Alya blatantly disregarding her safety for Ladyblog footage.
v Keeping a copy of your crushes schedule in your room at all times.
v Copious amounts of sexual tension.
v Edgy Black lipstick.
v Felix in general.
v The Break-Dance AU.
v Having to be saved by 2 teenagers wearing spandex.
v Tom Dupain-Cheng.
v Chloe’s designer purse.
v Jagged Stone.
v Gabriel’s parenting.
v Alya being a saint.
v Chloe ruining everything.
v A skin-tight catsuit.
v Horrible and painful cat puns.
v NSFW fanart.
v Nathanael's cuteness.
v Preying on the emotional insecurities of teenagers.
v Stealing people’s phones.
v Chat’s leather-clad ass.
v Adrien buying a bunch of Ladybug body pillows.
v Nino and Adrien’s bromance.
v The love square.
v Using your stick as a selfie camera.
v The fact that the Gorilla totally knows.
v Magic jewellery.
v Adrien teaching Nino about puns.
v Meow!
v Chat Noir in general.
v Feed Adrien 2K16.
v Chat Noir purring.
v Chat Noir body pillows.
v Locking 2 of your friends in a cage together.
v Hitting Chloe with a book.
v Well played, Kitty.
v Casually destroying the Eiffel Tower.
v The blessed shoulder tap of friendship from Adrien.
v Ladrien Vs Marichat.
v Bugaboo.
v Puppeteer.
v Princess Fragrance.
v There’s a giant dinosaur!
v PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!
v TIKKI, SPOTS ON!
v Chloe being a bitch.
v Fang’s adorableness.
v “Look into the lens”.
v You are the Nail Filer!
v “I want that DOLL!!!”
v Nooroo’s unresolved drinking problem.
v CAT-ACLYSIM!
v The fact that a domino mask can hide your identity.
v Pastry Bug.
v Plagg’s addiction to cheese.
v Hawkmoth in general.
v Catbug.
v NOOROO, GLITTER MY WINGS!
v LUCKY CHARM!
v Punching a small child in the face because Hawkmoth turned them into a supervillain.
v Attacking 2 innocent teenagers because Hawkmoth said to.
+O`R�w;
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