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ramp-it-up · 3 years

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Cuddle Buddies

Pairing: Roommate! Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Minors DNI, RPF, angst, cursing, pining, jealousy, suggestive language, butt slapping, fluff! No smut! All errors my own. I apologize if you like the smell of patchouli, lol.

A/N: This is an answer to the following ask from @teatro-dira :

Okay so I don't know if this is kinda weird but like an Rafael x reader were they are like really cuddly(like a lot of hugs, cuddling and stuff) friends and roommates and everyone teases them asking them if they're dating. Then Rafael gets a girlfriend which makes y/n lowkey feel betrayed and jealous, but he doesn't realize that. Y/n accidentally ruins their relationship(you chose how). They get into a fight, but it ends in fluff. Hope you understand what I mean:)

Here it goes! I hope you like it!

———-

A series of unfortunate events led you to this situation six months ago.

You were subletting Rafael’s apartment in Santa Monica when production wrapped a month early on his project in Vancouver. He had nowhere to go, and neither did you, so you agreed to share the space.

You vibed, almost as much as he and Daveed did. Folks began to call you the fourth Muskateer, for as much as you, Rafa, Daveed and his girl were always together.

You all talked, smoked, and created together. You and Rafa especially were always all over each other, keeping each other warm under blankets on the couch, watching movies while you ran your fingers through his hair, in one or another’s bed watching videos, or writing in tandem.

It was all good, cause Rafa was being a man-whore at the moment with several ladies, and you were just chilling. It was dope.

Almost.

It would have been all the way dope, except...

Except for the fact that you were in love with Rafa.

You loved sharing the same space with him, because you could smell him when he just got out of the shower, play in his silky hair, and feel his strong arms around you. And when he wore grey sweats…. Damn. You and your little bullet celebrated every time that happened.

Everyone could tell, except for Rafael. People ragged on you two so hard, that you vehemently denied it every time, to the point of getting heated.

One night, you side eyed the teaser through a cloud of smoke after catching Rafa’s grimace when they said you two should get together. Your mood sank at what you perceived was rejection.

“I would NEVER get with Rafa, that’s the homie. He’s like a brother to me. Ugh. Getting with my brother? No way. We’re just Cuddle Buddies.”

Rafa blinked and then took a toke.

“Exactly, we the homies. Platonic Ride or Dies. It’ll never happen.” He passed what he was holding and then stood up. “Cuddle Buddies till the end.” He sounded disgusted.

“I’m going to go get some food. I’m hungry. What does everyone want?” After everyone yelled out their orders, you offered to come with.

“Nah, sis. I’m good. Gonna clear my head. I’ll be back soon. Rafa peaced out and you sat back down with the crew.

-------

Ever since that night, Rafa seemed a little distant. He was always busy, and never had time to sit and kick it with you the last couple of weeks. You all never seemed to link.

One night, he was home when you came in with groceries.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that you’d be here!” You put the groceries down on the counter while Rafa was at the stove, cooking up some pasta with marina.

“Mmmmmm. Smells good!” You went and stood very close to him, expecting him to give you a side hug, at least.

He just turned and glanced at you, a smirk lifting one side of his face.

“Will you never learn to keep an umbrella in the car? You always come in soaking wet from the rain.”

Here he was, shaking his head that you didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain. How could this talented genius ever want to be with you?

You just played it off, as usual. “I’m starving. I didn’t think I would make it through cooking, but you’re always clutch, Rafa!”

Rafa stood there and gaped at you.

“Uhhhhh… I thought you said you were driving down to the Vista to see your mom… I have someone coming over for dinner....”

“No. She’s decided to go on a cruise to Cabo with her bestie… she just called and told me as she was boarding the ship this afternoon. The hussy. Tryna be fast with her little friends.” You laughed.

“So, who’s coming over? UTK? Wayne? Jimmy?”

You jumped up on the counter and watched as Rafa put some french bread with butter and garlic in the oven. Smelled like heaven. Those guys would definitely invite you to stay.

Rafa wiped his hands on the towel that was hanging on the stove. And turned around to face you.

“Her name is Aurora.”

It was like he’d punched you in the gut. He’d NEVER brought one of his heauxes around. You fought the urge to double over, even though you felt nauseous. When you looked at him, he looked concerned.

“Hey, you okay?”

You jumped down from the counter and quickly nodded your head, laughing weakly.

“I...uh.. Yeah. Like I said, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, expecting to be at dinner with my moms by now.”

You grabbed your groceries, putting them up quickly and grabbed an apple, taking it to your room.

“I’m going to get out of your way in a minute, I’ll go over to Carla’s and hang with her tonight. We’ll probably go out and do what we do, you know?”

Rafa still looked worried.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You need more than an apple. Look, stay…”

“NO!” Your voice was raised and it startled you. “I mean, I’m not one to be a cock blocker. I’ll just get my stuff and get ready to go.”

Rafa just watched as you scurried into your room. Why did you feel like crying? Why did you feel as if you would never breathe properly again? You got out your phone and called Carla.

20 minutes later, you exited your room dressed for the club with your overnight bag. There was a strange smell in the room, and it wasn’t pasta. It was patchouli. You HATED patchouli.

You didn’t realize you were giving the gas face until Rafa came out of the kitchen followed by a short, but cute woman, with a body like, whoa.

Of course.

Rafa glared at you and you fixed your face. That bestie telepathy was on point. Then he looked up and down, as if he were judging your freakum dress. Well, fuck him.

“Oh, hey! Y/N, this is Aurora. Aurora, Y/N.”

Aurora ignored your outstretched hand and went in for a hug.

“Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you intimately, just like Rafael.”

You tried to keep your face straight in reaction to her scent, then gave her a sideye.

Was it the inept way she rolled the ‘R’ in Rafael, or the thinly veiled shot at your relationship? Either way, you felt like slapping the shit out of her. You looked at Rafa, but then just cleared your throat.

“And I’ve heard so much about you as well. You’re all Rafa talks about.” He shook his head behind her. “Nice to meet you, but I’m headed out for the night.”

It was then that Aurora saw your bag and brightened up.

“Oh! You do look nice. Are you leaving, you sure you don’t want to stay?”

You could smell insincerity a mile away. Even patchouli couldn’t cover that up. You just smiled at her.

“No ma’am. I’ve got places to see and people to do.” You winked at them as you walked out of the door, holding up your umbrella. “Stay dry y’all.”

You made it out the door without crying of jack slapping that little bitch or Rafa. You were winning.

But why did it feel like you’d lost everything?

-----

You and Rafa successfully avoided one another for days. He was either over Aurora’s or you were with Carla, your mom, or just stayed in your room.

One time you passed Rafa and Aurora on the couch watching a movie on your way to the kitchen to get something to eat. Rafa’s head was in her lap.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Rafa’s slightly raised voice say: “Don't’ mess with the swoop, Babe.”

‘Babe.’ He called her Babe. That’s it. It was time for you to go.

You were cramping Rafa’s style. You just tiptoed back in your room, making little to no noise so that they could watch the movie in peace. You didn’t see Rafa looking at your door after you went in.

----

A week later, you let Rafa know your move out date.

“Wait. What?”

Rafa’s mouth was open. You repeated yourself.

“Well, I’m going to move in with Carla. She’s going to let me ride her couch until this other place comes open in three weeks. It’s a sweet deal, near the studio….”

Rafa’s mind was racing, you could see the gears turning.

“Well… why don’t you just stay here until then, we got a good thing going.” He looked upset. What was up with him?

“Rafa… I’m just in the way. You’ve got Aurora…”

“Hold up, wait. We aren’t even that serious. I mean, I just stopped seeing Bev and Chrissy. He looked at his watch. Last week.”

You laughed at Rafa’s fuckboi ways. “Well, what about me? I might want to date someone and bring them over…”

Rafa’s face changed.

“Bring someone over here…”

But it didn’t sound like an invitation, it sounded like a threat.

It was your turn to stare at Rafa. “What the hell…?”

He straightened up. “I mean, any of your guests are welcome here.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“See what I mean? Things are getting tense, I want us to stay friends, not be tight with each other all the time.”

Rafa grinned. “You said ‘tight.’” He dodged a couch pillow thrown at his head.

“What are you, a 12 year old?” You were rolling. He really was one of your best friends. But you needed space to get over yourself. And him.

“Okay. You grown. But just know that you don’t have to go. And know that I will miss the hell out of you.”

Rafa came over to hug you, and he held you longer than normal, and then kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him, still in his arms and it was like…

You cleared your throat. “Well, I guess I better go start to pack.”

Rafa stepped back. “Ok.”

Both of you hurried to your perspective rooms.

-----

One night, a couple of days later, Rafael came into your room without knocking.

“What did you say to Aurora?”

You were laying on your stomach on your phone, in just your t-shirt an panties. You rolled over and looked at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Rafa wasn’t yelling, but he was keyed up.

“What did you tell her the last time you talked?”

You put your head down to think, then brought it back up.

“I just said that I was going to miss playing in your hair when we watched movies, that I knew it was your favorite thing.”

Rafa nodded, then shook his head.

“Y/N, you’re the only one I let touch my hair. Aurora has barely been allowed near it.”

“That’s…. New.” You were perplexed.

“No it isn’t. Everyone knows I don’t like people messing with my hair. Aurora accused me of having feelings for you.”

You were sitting up now, crossing your arms and standing before Rafa.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Rafa looked like he was about to explode. He threw his hands up in the air and walked out of your room.

“OF COURSE IT IS! RIDICULOUS!” He was really agitated.

“Yeah, I know all too well that you think it's ridiculous for me to want to be with you. I don’t know what makes you think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Good enough for ME? You’re the one running around with all the model/actress types, you’re the one who thinks I’m beneath you. You said so that one night when you said we were ‘Platonic Ride or Dies.’”

“Here we go! Total distortion! Did you hear what you said before I said that? You said I was like your brother. Your brother. You think it’s that disgusting to be with me.”

“I just said that because you made a face when what’s her face said we should be together.”

“I made that face because I was imagining fucking your brains out. It was probably my cum face.”

You stopped and stared at him, mouth hinged open.

“The fuck?” You burst out laughing. “You are mad outta pocket Rafa.” Rafa was rolling too. “But you ain’t gotta lie.”

Rafa stopped laughing.

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

He was moving closer to you. This felt… dangerous. He looked up and down your body, and it was the first time you felt uncomfortable being comfortable around Rafa.

“Because you told me that you wanted to just be Cuddle Buddies a month after you came back from Canada. You drew a line in the sand.”

Rafa shook his head at you and smiled, green-blue eyes twinkling.

“I knew you were too zooted. I shouldn’t have tried to shoot my shot.”

“Run that back for me?” You couldn’t believe what he was saying right now.

“What I said was..I wanted to be Cuddie buddies. Cuddie is… you know…”

He pointed to your crotch.

You looked down, and then up at him again. “I can’t with you Rafa….”

Rafa tilted his head in that sexy way at you.

“Can you really not?”

You were stunned. Rafa continued.

“But I’m serious. When you came back with ‘Cuddle Buddies,’ I thought you were blowing me off and just wanted to be friends. So, I just settled into the friend zone.”

“Do you mean you’re attracted to me? Rafa, that’s funny as hell. You want me for my body?”

Rafa raised his eyebrows at you. “Hell yeah. C’mon girl. You know you’re fine.”

Your cheeks heated up. You stared at him for what must have been a solid minute. The possibilities of this alternate reality where Rafa liked you like you liked him opened up.

“But, Rafa... I don’t wanna be just cuddie buddies.”

“Oh. Ok, Cool….” Rafa cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at you.

“I want your heart.”

Rafa paused when he heard that and his face fell as he moved toward you. He took your arms in his hands.

“Y/N I'm sorry, I can't give you my heart.”

It was your turn to pick up your face.

“’Cause you already have it.”

His mischievous grin made your stomach flip. But you were mad.

“Fuck you, Rafa.” You were laughing with happiness, despite him playing too much.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Rafa swooped down and threw you over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting six months for that invitation.”

You were trying to kick and scream.

Raa swatted you on the ass, then smoothed his hand over the cheek that stung.

“The more you struggle, the more you’ll be begging me to stop in a few.”

You struggled some more, but he made it to your bedroom and deposited you on the bed. He glared down at you, all sexy green-eyed god.

“Try me, Y/N.”

You reached for the drawstring on his sweats.

“If you insist, Rafael.”

-----

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

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Heart Shaped Cookies

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and it seems that everyone has plans except for you and Spencer.

A/N: S9 Ep15 had Valentine’s Day so I was suddenly inspired by this.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my lovelies!” Garcia exclaimed as she waltzed into the bullpen covered head to toe in red and hearts. She passed by each agent’s desk, placing down a pink or red heart shaped cookie on a white napkin covered in hearts.

“You know before the holiday was named after St. Valentine, it was actually called Lupercalia, a Roman festival that celebrates the coming of spring and fertility rites. Single men would randomly pick a woman’s name, leading them to marriage and eventually-”

“Alright, kid. I think that’s enough. Thanks.” Derek clasped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, taking the young doctor’s cookie from him, and biting into it.

“Hey!” Spencer cried out with a pout and you rolled your eyes at Derek’s smirk.

You got up from your desk and handed Spencer your cookie, “Here, Spence,” and then you flicked Derek’s ear, “Don’t be mean!”

Spencer smirked as he bit into the cookie while Derek rubbed his ear.

_________

As fate would have it, there was no case that needed to be solved today. So everyone remained at their desks, doing paperwork until it was time for them to clock out.

Heading to the elevators, you and the team made idle chatter.

“You and Savannah have anything special planned?” you ask Derek.

He gives you a little smirk, “Yeah. This year I’m making us dinner and we’re gonna watch some romance movies. A casual thing this year. What about you? Got a date?”

You shook your head, “Nope. This is probably my sixth Valentine’s Day alone, which is fine. I’ll probably make myself some chocolate covered strawberries, have a nice bath, and watch some romcoms.”

Derek looks over your shoulder, nodding at Spencer, “What about you, pretty boy? Got anyone special you’re treating tonight?”

Spencer gives his tight lipped smile and shakes his head, “Not really, no. I was actually going to a film festival that’ll be showing some classic French romance movies,” his eyes go to you and you see a sudden hesitation within him, “You can come with me, if you want, Y/N. Some of the films might not be subtitled but I could whisper the translations to you.”

You shrugged, “Sure. It beats staying home by myself.”

Spencer’s face immediately brightens up, “Great! I’ll, uh, I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Sounds good, Spence.” you give him a smile and a nod and join the other agents into the elevator.

Since there wasn’t much room left, Spencer and Derek stayed behind to catch the next one. You give them a wave as the doors close, leaving the two agents by themselves.

“I see you, Reid. I see you.” Derek grins, giving Spencer a nudge.

He gulps, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” his eyes are focused on the elevator, silently hoping for the next one to appear any time now.

“Reid, come on, man. I see the way you look at them. You like them, don’t you? Tonight’s your chance to make a move!”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I can’t. We’re just friends.”

“You can be more, that is, if you get your head out of the gutter and make a move. Soon enough, someone will swoop in and sweep them off their feet and it’ll be too late for you.”

He gulps again, feeling the nerves starting to get to him, “But what if they don’t feel the same way? I really like them, Derek, but I value my friendship with them a lot more.”

Derek shrugs, “That’s just a risk you have to take.”

On cue, the elevator arrives with a ding and the doors open to welcome the two agents.

________________

You decided to not go too overboard with the red and pink for tonight. Instead, you settled for a maroon v-neck, black jeans, black converse, and a black leather jacket.

Spencer had arrived a little earlier than expected, but you were nearly ready. You quickly let him in, insisting he’d take a seat and you’d be done in a few minutes.

He sat on your couch, reading through one of your coffee table books when you came back out, “Okay. Let’s hit the road!”

He looks up and he feels his breath hitch. This look is something he usually doesn’t see you in, but you look amazing nonetheless.

You chuckled as you pointed, “We kinda match!”

He switched out his black button up for a maroon one and changed his blazer for a black cardigan. His converse remained the same. Looking down at his outfit and then at yours, he softly smiles and says, “So we do.” and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

_____________

“‘I don’t want you to give up. I want you to fight for me. For us.’“ Spencer murmurs the translations into your ear.

The closeness of him, of his lips to your ear causes goosebumps to appear all over your body and you hope he doesn’t know.

There isn’t many people in the theater. Honestly, you expected a low turnout, but that’s okay. You’re still enjoying your time with Spencer. Despite not knowing what the characters are saying, you’re fully invested in the movie. It helps that Spencer is translating, but even without him, you’re sure you could figure out what’s happening just by using your profiling skills.

“He can’t just give up on her! He said he loves her and now he’s just gonna let her go?!” you hissed causing Spencer to chuckle.

“He’s only doing what she asked.”

“Sometimes some people say things that they don’t mean. They just want to see how willing their partners to fight for them. Reverse psychology, Spencer.” you give him a knowing look and toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

Spencer quietly laughs as he leans in a little bit closer, “I’m really happy you came with me tonight. Sure beats being alone on a day like this.”

You sigh, “I know what you mean.” you glance down at the armrest and see Spencer’s hand resting there. You decide to place your hand on top of his and say, “I’m really glad I came with you too, Spence.”

You two are just staring at each other, the light from the movie screen illuminating each other’s features. There’s a pull that’s drawing you to each other, faces getting closer and closer until-

Rrrrring! Rrrrring!

“Sssshhh!” a couple hiss from some rows ahead of you.

Both of you whisper out apologies as you scramble for your phones. You both dig them out and see that it’s work.

“Of course,” you murmur. You gather your things and follow Spencer out of the theater and into the lobby, “Just once I’d like to have a nice night go uninterrupted. Just once! Can’t bad people just put a pause for a day or two? Or twenty? I mean I love what we do-”

“Y/N.”

“-but man I’m really starting to get tired of-”

“Y/N.”

“-of people doing bad things and ruining my-mmf!” you minor rant is silenced by lips on yours.

Your eyes widen when you realize that Spencer is kissing you and, soon enough, you find yourself kissing him back. Eventually, you both pull away for air, leaving you two to look at each other with puckered lips and surprised looks on your faces.

“Well...that happened,” you stated nervously.

“Sorry. I just-I’ve been wanting to do that all night and I was going to but then we were interrupted by the call and-mmf!” It was this time that Spencer was cut off by your lips and you two are kissing again.

“Hey! Take it somewhere else, will ya?” the security asks as he passes you two, causing you to break apart once more.

“Right. Sorry,” you give him a sheepish look and pull Spencer out of the lobby and through the exit.

As you’re walking to Spencer’s car, he stops you for a moment, “I like you. A lot. More than a friend, if you didn’t get that from the kiss, well, both kisses.”

You snorted and smiled at him, “I like you too, if you didn’t get that from both kisses either.”

He shyly smiles at you and then opens your door for you, “So, uh, redo after we finish this case?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you answer before he closes your door and rushes to his side of the car.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins fic #grayson dolan fic #grayson mj #grayson dolan oc

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vegalocity · 3 years

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7/46 for Spicynoodleshipping, before Red disappears for four months while getting ready to leave his parents?

Prompt meme

7. French kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorize them. // 46.A lingering kiss before a long trip apart.

I think this one just came out cheesy, I think it’s like 90% cheese so like... not for those with a dairy allergy

Xiaotian had thankfully not blown their secret prematurely when he'd saved him from his parent's ex-ally, he'd done enough Nominal Goody Two-Shoes things over the years that his parents hadn't thought twice about him hugging Red Son for almost dying. And He'd made his own 'stance' clear that he was simply proving a point TO his parents and saving Xiaotian from their supposed Ally was simply means to an end. To show that he and his were more than willing to go back on their agreement now that they'd had his tech and no longer needed them. Even going on later to say that he'd overheard their actual plans but he knew the two of them weren't going to listen without any proof, so... he had to take matters into his own hands.

His mother both berated him for taking risks like that and lightly chided for being so weak that a hit like that had stunned him for long enough he'd needed to be saved. His father as usual, had nothing to add. Xiaotian when they'd seen each other that night had received his own berating FROM Red Son about risking everything they'd arranged because he wasn't thinking. To which Xiaotian responded with his own rant about Red Son acting just as thoughtlessly by taking the hit for him in the first place.

When Xiaotian finished his rant he was holding back tears, brokenly finishing that he wouldn't have any idea what to do with himself if Red Son had died to save him. He'd tried to remind him that something like that couldn't do him in so easily, but it hadn't helped. He could only submit to his fretting, especially because he couldn't apologize, even if it were just for making Xiaotian so upset, nor could he promise he wouldn't do it again. But he could hold Xiaotian as he continued to grumble about how badly Red Son had scared him.

He'd meant it when he'd told him he'd do it again a million times over, and it was like something had loosened in his chest after their 'activities' that night. He found himself far less worried over accidentally falling asleep, found his tongue looser and relishing in the pretty blush his passion driven words would bring to Xiaotian's cheeks, and when he returned home found himself looking over exit strategies.

Whether he'd been cognizant of it at the time or not, that day saving Xiaotian had been a watershed in his life, and he'd... he'd made his choice.

And he picked Xiaotian.

And sure his parents didn't know that that was what had happened, but he did. And he'd never not know who he'd pick again; because there was no guarantee that that fool of a clan leader wouldn't kill him, wouldn't rip his head right off before anyone could have stopped him, he knew that, that was why he'd been so afraid for Xiaotian: his only thought was to get him out of there and didn't spare a second one for himself. Just because he was made of sturdier stuff than a mortal didn't mean he couldn't have died in that fight, and he'd come to terms with it in those split seconds, if it meant Xiaotian didn't die instead he’d accept it.

Though at first the change was just... noticing things he'd been pointedly ignoring. It was HIS tech that had been used against them, against the city they wanted to RULE not DESTROY, and not a single scrap of some of his most advanced work was even saved and tossed back at him nonchalantly, every scrap of metal bent into disuse as his parents took their dissolution of allyship out on the former clan leader's men.

He was gonna need more time for those upgrades to father's armor because he was mostly working on THAT OTHER project they'd tasked him with, He'd need to redraft that ENTIRE machine from scratch and he was ALREADY in the prototype phase if they wanted those changes.

And he'd started daydreaming. He'd been daydreaming about Xiaotian ever since they started their Arrangement, but those domestics that would occupy his mind in the middle of the menial parts of putting together machinery felt... different... than they used to.

He used to fantasize about bringing Xiaotian with him to his own home, usually heading back to the Firey Mountains, though sometimes other family homes would show up, and the two of them would...simply be. But those had become few and far between lately, what had occupied his mind as of late was a... more humble dream.

A medium-ish sized apartment in the city, near the noodle shop so Xiaotian could continue to work without too many commute related worries. He'd have a proper drawing easel in the living space, preferably by the window in the 'guest room' so he'd have a nice view. And though Red Son probably would keep most of his own projects in that 'base' Xiaotian had told him his friend had constructed he would have his own worktable for minor tinkering and blueprint drafting. They were both only 'perfectly okay' as cooks, so they'd generally decide who would make dinner depending on who got home first.

Red Son would likely wake up first every morning and get to finally see Xiaotian when he's so deep asleep he's just a limp noodle sprawled across the bed—and the bed was big enough for the both of them and then some, so no one would fall off. And as he'd put together his morning routines he'd realize he hadn't been this content in actual centuries and-

and he had to come to terms with the fact that a future with Xiaotian meant one without his parents, because there was no intersection of the two. Being Xiaotian's partner meant turning against his parents, and being a dutiful son meant being complicit when his father struck down his revenge and slaughtered Xiaotian.

And as he'd so recently come to terms with, that was unacceptable. He could live without his parents as he'd done it before, it would be difficult, and terrifying, and he knew he'd probably need to battle himself relentlessly for it, but now that he knew on a bone deep level that Xiaotian was not allowed to perish, he couldn't wait for the eventuality and hope he could swoop in then.

No. He couldn't chance that.

He needed to move out.

And if he was going to do this he had to do it right. He had to make his break as clean as possible, so there was no doubt on whether he was doing this of his own will or not. So he'd need some time staying back home, to ensure if things got out they were on no one's terms but his.

He'd of course been telling Xiaotian everything, and he was well aware of his plan. And now...

Now was the last night he could spare before he would make his leave and had to disappear for a time.

Their activities had gone on long into the night, savoring every moan and sigh and shiver because heavens knew how long it would be until either of them saw the other again, and Red Son found a particular joy in the act of memorizing every inch of Xiaotian's body that he possibly could branding every dip and curve and hardened muscle and gnarled scar into his mind so he'd have vivid memories to keep him company until he returned.

He didn't have to map out Xiaotian's mouth so intricately, he'd been kissing it for nearing on two and a half years now, he knew the shape and feel, the exact heat of his mouth and the slide of his tongue against his own, but Red Son found it would not be complete without it. So when allowed to plunder Xiaotian's mouth he worked slowly, moving across the entire area, and brushing playfully against every molar and sharpened canine (Xiaotian insisted he was still mostly human but the monkey magic was starting to seep in, eventually he'd sprout a tail and Red Son hoped he could see that when it happened) until the taste and feel were so deeply understood they'd be forever scorched across his heart.

“I will come back.” He whispered, “I swear I will return.” He reiterated for the... had to at least be the tenth time that night. The very last thing he wanted was Xiaotian doubting him for how long it might take or what may happen in the interim.

But now he had to go. He wanted to linger for longer, he could tell Xiaotian wanted him to linger for longer, but if he started out this whole thing with his parents already suspicious of where he'd been it would make things considerably harder. So he slipped back into his street clothes, maybe a little slower than his usual speed, and watched Xiaotian slip into his pajamas out of the corner of his eye. But by then, he was dressed and had no further excuses to stay.

Except maybe...

He cleared the short distance between the two of them and kissed Xiaotian one last time, a kiss that was eagerly returned. Not to memorize, just to savor. Full of longing instead of heat.

“I will return.”

“I know you will.”

send me stuff!

#spicynoodleshipping #letters to vega #vega writes stories too #Anonymous #The Arrangement AU

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scribbleb-red · 4 years

Text

Morning Fuc*offee AU

A Morning AU

Andrew Minyard likes his routine - wake up, walk to Fuc*offee, side eye the barista, do some work, go home, drink, sleep.

He’s been doing this for months - the barista is good looking and easy to annoy, he’s deft with his hands and safe to look at from a distance.

He’s not happy with life but he’s fine with this - it gets him by for now.

Which is why he’s so irate when a new guy starts to do the same.

New Guy is short and chatty and a tad twitchy. He has the bluest eyes Andrew has ever seen - like the water of Bishop’s glacier lake - absolutely crystalline. But they keep flicking behind him, to the exits, like he’s waiting for danger to find him.

He talks to Andrew’s barista.

He brings in fucking baked goods.

He made Barista Boy smile.

What actual fuckery is this?

Andrew stews and simmers, furious and not a little envious.

It’s easier for other people, he knows that, because Andrew isn’t normal or whole. He’s broken and will spend a life time trying to paper over the cracks left behind.

Fortunately, hating Blue Eyes comes easily to Andrew. He’s well versed in this emotion and applies it liberally to his almost-non-existent interactions with Blue Eyes.

Blue Eyes doesn’t take the hint.

When he passes Andrew he starts to smile, it looks shaky, like he hasn’t practiced the expression much.

Perhaps he hasn’t - there are thin scars over his cheeks, old but definitely once deep and impossibly neat. They’d been inflicted on this man.

Andrew hates him even more.

Blue Eyes has red hair like autumn leaves, like maybe it was auburn but he spent too much time in outside and the sun kissed it amber. He has freckles like constellations across the tan of his skin and when he passes Andrew’s table, there’s the scent of fresh bread and pastry.

No wonder then that Barista Boy has started looking back at Blue Eyes.

No wonder Andrew has become a pale shadow at the sideline of their story.

Andrew decides to fuck routine.

For a week he gives Fuc*offee a miss. He tries other places: there’s no where quite as good though.

On the eighth day, he caves. He wants a good, sweet coffee with plenty of cream. The coffee Barista Boy makes so reluctantly.

He steps into the shop, orders.

Barista Boy actually smiles. “Been on holiday?”

It breaks their no speaking bar ordering rule but Andrew lifts one shoulder and drops it again. “Something like that.”

Interesting that he noticed.

Blue Eyes arrives at his usual time - windswept and breathtaking. His impossible gaze falls on Andrew and he beams. Smile wide and real.

Andrew’s chest is a vice. His stomach fills with iron filings that clip and snatch at his insides.

“You’re back,” says Blue Eyes. “Kevin must be delighted.”

Andrew blinks at him. Kevin. The name of the barista that he refuses to remember.

Blue Eyes waves at Kevin and the man rolls his eyes.

Blue Eyes sits, uninvited, at Andrew’s table.

“I’m Neil, by the way. I run the new bakery over the street.”

Right. The one that now supplies the baked everything to Fuc*offee.

Clearly sleeping with the barista was an added bonus to the business transaction. Andrew shakes himself - that’s a cruel thought and Bee would scold him for passing judgement like that. Still, he feels bitter and annoyed.

He doesn’t have pastries for Kevin. And there’s no way Andrew’s eeked out living as a poet is going to get him in anyone’s pants.

Was that even what he wanted though? He could - and had - found plenty of one night only hookups in the past. It wasn’t enough. He never...

He’s aware of Blue Eyes - Neil - sitting opposite, reading a book.

He lifts his pen to write, pauses, waits for Neil to be an unwarranted distraction. He doesn’t.

There's a shift after that - Neil often sitting with Andrew when they come in together and have time.

Andrew will scribble.

Neil will read.

There's a certain companionship that Andrew doesn't let himself dwell on. Neil goes back to his bakery just before midday for the afternoon shift and Andrew packs up just after lunch to go home.

Andrew likes this.

Not that he'd admit it.

But the highlight of his day isn't ordering his coffee anymore.

It's the moments after - when he and Neil sit together, knees just brushing, occasionally interrupted by a huff of poetic frustration or an exclamation at a plot twist.

So much so, that when Barista Boy turns out to have not just one but two really rather stunning partners - a surly Frenchman and a man with a smile like sunshine - Andrew doesn't really feel... anything at all.

Neil's enthusiastic introduction to Jean and Jeremy is almost over the top.

Turns out Jean has been helping with the French pastries at his bakery.

Turns out Jeremy is way too nice for his own good and has helped to PR the two shops, which is why they're increasingly busy. He also works with Nicky - Andrew realises - or at least for the same company.

Andrew should probably touch base with his cousin, it’s been a while.

Still, even though Barista Boy is taken, Andrew comes to Fuc*offee and spends time with Neil.

And Neil is... increasingly distracting just because he exists.

It's the autumn shade of his hair, the freckles that Andrew wants to map, the fresh blue of his eyes.

It's his smile that comes easier now, at least when he's looking at Andrew.

So really it shouldn't have been a surprise that when Neil swept in one day with a flurry of snowflakes and nose pinked by the cold, Andrew's breath snatched away like birds had swooped off with his lungs.

Andrew has a new problem.

And this time it's not safe. It's not at a distance.

There isn't a coffee bar between him and Neil. There isn't a careful balance of customer and barista. There's nothing but paper and conversation, a scant few centimetres of table.

He spends the whole morning unable to write.

His only thought is: fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Right up until the moment that Neil reaches over, almost absently, and puts his hand carefully against Andrew's, palm up.

An offering.

Blue eyes flick up, "You're pushing yourself too hard today. Just relax a moment."

So Andrew puts down his pen.

Lifts his fingers so they hover over Neil's.

"Yes or no?" he asks.

Neil's smile is the widest yes he could give.

-The End-

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lupinsx · 4 years

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Stay With Me

masterlist

Request: hi!! i really loved your first fic!!😙 i was wondering if you could write one where the reader is a slytherin, and she’s like pretty good friends with draco. she gets an owl one day with some bad news about her family (you can decide what lmao) and she acts like she’s ok at first but she leaves the great hall rly early while draco watches and he goes to help. you can choose how it ends hehe

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Draco are the best of friends. When Y/N hears news that will change her life, it’s up to him to help save her from her grief.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of death (nothing graphic though).

a/n — Thank you for requesting! I hope I did justice to this prompt lol.

——————————

For a moment, everything was nice.

It was late in the evening, and the Slytherin common room would be deserted if it wasn’t for you and Draco occupying the space. He sat lazily on the mossy coloured couch while you sat next to him horizontally with your legs draped over his lap, your back leaned against the armrest. The closeness between you two was almost second nature, being too overdone for it to be given another thought.

It was comfortable, that’s all. Just normal behaviour between friends.

Or at least, that’s what you say to yourself.

“And that damn bludger almost knocked my head off near the end! It was a miracle I managed to duck on time,” Draco beamed, using hand gestures as he spoke to walk you through the events. Earlier that day, Slytherin won a Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, and Draco couldn’t be more ecstatic. You nodded your head in agreement as you kept your head low, focusing on the essay on your lap which needed to be completed.

With a boastful smile stretched across his face, he continued, “It was an amazing catch! The Ravenclaw seeker got close to the snitch, but I was clearly faster.”

It was silent for a moment as Draco waited for a response. You were too engrossed in the Transfiguration assignment in front of you that you almost forgot he was there, but a hand waved in front of your face brought you back to reality. Putting away the parchment with a sheepish grin, you turned your attention towards him.

“Sorry, I was finishing up my paragraph. But yes, you were amazing out there. I watched the whole thing, remember?”

His face reddened slightly at your praise, but you failed to notice under the dim candlelit lighting. Suddenly, a realization hit you; Christmas break would be approaching very soon. The mere thought warmed you like a nearby fire, and you found yourself getting giddy at the thought.

“Draco! Christmas break is in one more week. Can you believe it?” you asked, eyes wide in excitement like a child receiving candy. He nodded vaguely, unable to show much happiness at the matter.

You found immense joy at the idea of Christmas. While your half-blood and pureblood parents are comparable to a nasty old Grinch, your muggle grandmother makes the holidays entirely bearable. She frequently bakes with you, blasts old Christmas tunes whenever your parents are away, and puts on heartwarming films to enjoy together every night and morning.

These little traditions are practically the only reason you enjoy coming home. Your parents are strong upholders of the snotty rich family stereotype most Slytherins seem to bear, but having someone at your house who loves you for you and not your possible potential makes you extremely grateful.

Unfortunately, your best friend didn’t have that same luck. Draco’s parents are to a similar degree of cruelty as yours, but the lack of comforting adult figures at his house makes him loathe coming home for the break more so than you would.

It was only the prospect of seeing you after it what made him survive throughout the holiday season.

Frowning at his sudden quietness, you grabbed his hand and gave it a small squeeze. Your lips stretched into a comforting smile, not knowing what else to say to ease his mind.

He gave you a reassuring glance in response, and all was quiet for a moment. Merely the delicate crackle coming from the fireplace was heard as you unknowingly kept his hand in yours. After a minute’s time, you pulled your arm back and swung your legs off his lap.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” you said, dragging him up by his arm. He chuckled at your slight manhandling of him as you picked up your essay and waved goodbye to him. You then headed to the girls dormitory, while he went the opposite way.

That night, memories of candy canes, gingerbread houses, and the Home Alone series occupied your thoughts, leaving you in a blissful dreamland for the remainder of the night.

~~~

The next morning, you found yourself being awoken by the loud shuffling of feet outside your door. Judging by the streams of light pouring through your drapes, you knew it was time to get up.

Your morning routine didn’t take longer than 15 minutes. Once you deemed yourself ready for the day, you headed to the common room, only to see Draco leaning boredly against the portrait hole. Upon seeing you, amusement flickered briefly in his eyes.

“Race you to the Great Hall,” he spoke quickly, breaking out into a sprint before you could even respond. With a small groan and a grin threatening to spread across your mouth, you ran after the platinum haired boy.

Typical Draco, you thought. When will I ever catch a break.

Although his long legs and early exit gave him a lengthy advantage, you managed to catch up to him considerably fast, and you two crashed into the Slytherin table at nearly same time. An airy chuckle escaped his lips as you panted heavily, taking a seat as well as a large gulp of water. The pair quickly received eyes on them for their abrupt entry, but all stares were disregarded upon the sight of food in front of you.

You licked your lips in delight and swiftly reached for the French toast, ignoring the loud entrance of owls delivering the morning mail. You almost didn’t notice one approach your table, and certainly not when it swooped next to your head, but a small tap on your shoulder redirected your attention to the letter laid in front of you.

Curiously enough, you weren’t even expecting any mail.

“Who’s it from?” asked Draco nonchalantly as he scarfed down his scrambled eggs. You shrugged your shoulders and picked up the letter, impatiently unwrapping it without paying mind to front cover.

Dear Y/N L/N,

I hope you’re currently studying for exams or completing your coursework. Remember, I expect nothing less than Outstandings in every class.

Of course. Typical of mom to start off a letter addressing grades. No ‘Hello my daughter’ or anything.

I’m sending this letter to tell you that your grandmother has passed away. It was inevitable, really. She was getting quite old. But the burial was last Wednesday, so that’s done and over with. Our annual Christmas and New Year’s parties will resume as normal, so don’t you worry. Anyways, resume your studying.

Yours Truly,

Mrs L/N

Grandma… is dead?

Your knuckles gripped tightly onto the paper, your eyes skimming through it again and again to confirm you read it accurately. Eventually, the tears developing prevented you from seeing it clearly, and you simply crumpled up the letter and shoved it in your robe’s pocket.

You were alone now. All alone.

It took a minute for you to digest the information. You sat silently, making no effort to pick up your fork or look up from your lap. You couldn’t believe she was really gone from your life. It seemed like it was almost yesterday when you two were belting out Jingle Bells while icing sugar cookies.

And now, she was gone, just like that.

Standing up from your spot, you looked up to the ceiling to quickly diminish the water in your eyes. Once relatively dried, you faced Draco, who stared up at you with concern lacing his features. He was no longer focused on the meal in front of him, nor the conversations going on around him.

Forcing a small smile on your face, you croaked, “I’m feeling a little full. Just going to get some fresh air.” Without letting him reply, you rushed out of the Great Hall. Your jaw was clenched to prevent you from sobbing immediately as you ran out the doors and towards the Black Lake.

Soon, you found the spot under a tree which you had always claimed to be your own. It had the perfect view of the lake in front, so you often came here to de-stress, study, or simply hang out with Draco. Today, however, it was used as your crying corner, away from the eyes of your peers and noise of people chatting nearby. It was secluded.

And perhaps, that level of isolation was exactly what you needed to break down.

So, you cried. And cried. You sobbed louder than a newborn baby, and produced more tears within a minute than you have done within a year. You were grieving for the only adult figure in your life you ever found solace in.

What felt like hours of misery turned out to be mere minutes, which was soon interrupted by a figure dropping down next to you and pulling you to their chest. Although the puffiness of your eyelids and tears pooling above it blocked your vision, the smell of cedar wood and vanilla made you well aware of Draco’s presence. He cradled your upper body as you cried into his chest, gripping onto his shirt in tight fists.

“Draco, s-she — my grandma, she’s g-gone,” you hiccuped between your words. He didn’t respond, simply brushing the hair from your face and rubbing your back while trying to hush your cries.

It took a long while, but eventually, the tears had ceased and the whimpers were quiet and minimal. You simply took in Draco’s scent as he protectively held you. Upon noticing your silence, he finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You don’t deserve this.”

You released a pathetic chuckle, eyes looking empty as you dismiss the last part. “But it still happened. And now, I’m all alone.”

Immediately, Draco pulled you from his chest, keeping you in his arms but now facing him. He stared into your eyes with an unreadable expression and carefully remarked, “You are not alone. I’m here for you. Always.”

His response left you with a small grin tugging on your lips. You felt grateful to have a friend like him in your life, putting up with you no matter the circumstance. But as quickly as the thought came, it was replaced with the looming reality of what’s to come next week. You would have to come home for Christmas and endure constant neglect and judgement from your parents. Fear washed over your face in an instant as your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Noticing the change of expression, he moved his hand to your jaw to hold the side of your face. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter now love?”

“I’m gonna have to come home for Christmas,” you spoke with quivering lips and a shaky tone. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes once more, but Draco caught each one and wiped them from your cheek with delicate strokes of his finger.

“No, Y/N, you won’t. Not this year, at least. You can come with me to my house, or I can stay with you at Hogwarts. Either way, I am not leaving you alone.”

“Y-you’ll stay with me?” you asked tentatively. You and him both knew how much you needed him at a time like this, but his understanding without your spoken words left you feeling a certain type of admiration for the boy.

Just as you did yesterday, Draco squeezed your hand in a reassuring manner before mumbling, “Of course I will.”

He then left a gentle kiss on your forehead, spreading warmth to every corner of your body. “I promise, Y/N. I won’t leave you. Not now, not later, not ever. I will always stick by your side.”

——————————

a/n — I had lots of fun writing this, despite it currently being an ungodly hour. Thank you again for requesting and let me know what you think!

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco one shot #draco malfoy one shot #draco fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter one shot #writing #my prompts #draco x reader imagines #draco malfoy imagines

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girlsgonemildblog · 3 years

Text

Wait, Is This Show Actually Good? - Emily in Paris, Episode 4 Recap (Spoilers!!)

Poster from IMDB

I actually liked this episode. In general, I enjoy watching this show, but it has been in an I-hate-it-so-much-I-enjoy-it type of way. This episode I actually liked. Crazy, right? But don’t worry, it still had the eye-roll moments we know and love from the show.

It begins with a French florist trying to refuse to sell Emily pretty roses and instead giving her worse ones. I don’t think she deserves pretty flowers either, nameless French women. Then a gorgeous blonde woman comes up and helps Emily out. For no explicable reason, this woman, named Camille, decides to befriend Emily.

Photo from IMDB

Camille (played by Camille Razat) invites Emily to an art exhibit that night at the gallery where she works. Emily mentions this means she will have to miss her language class, which she is in absolutely no position to skip. Only a minute earlier, she asked the florist, “I can the roses?” Whatever, I’m not her mom. Also, as they say goodbye, Emily and Camille kiss on the lips, which I guess isn’t that unusual in French culture. Still, this was made for an American audience, and Mindy later hints that perhaps Camille was hitting on Emily, and this all felt very queerbait-y to me.

Emily then returns to her apartment and has a bunch of packages to pick up, and who comes in to help her but Gabriel? Does literally any other person live in this six-story building? We have never seen a single other neighbor, but Gabriel always seems to be around. Emily opens her package to discover that her peanut butter has exploded and is now smeared all over her belongings, which is not how peanut butter works in my experience, but whatever. Gabriel decides he must make her an omelet right then because apparently Emily did not have any food in her apartment and was really relying on her peanut butter showing up soon, or else she was going to die of starvation.

Gabriel, who had noticed the lingerie that Antoine had gifted Emily at the end of the previous episode, asks why a client giving her lingerie is an issue for her. It’s crazy to me that that needs to be explained. Emily responds with three reasons, in the following order:

Antoine is married.

Antoine is having an affair with Emily’s boss.

The gift is wildly inappropriate.

I cannot be alone in thinking that this is in no way the correct order of importance. His marital status is not even a fraction of the problem compared to the level of inappropriateness.

When Emily arrives at work (she must show up at that office at like, noon, right?), Antoine and Sylvie are in the middle of a fight, and Emily decides to insert herself. To calm Antoine down, she tells him a half baked plan to pitch a line of perfumes from his company to a hotel chain owner from Chicago who she knows will be at Camille’s gallery that night. She implies that the hotel company has already expressed interest in this idea, despite having just come up with it. While this may stop his anger temporarily, it could make the situation a lot worse farther down the road. If her plan doesn’t work out, and he finds out she lied, there is no salvaging that relationship.

When Sylvie asks Emily who sent her the lingerie, for some inexplicable reason, Emily says Gabriel. I can’t imagine how that could possibly backfire. Then, Luc and Julien swoop in to take her out to lunch. They sit her down and explain to her why she needs to be careful with Antoine, as he is her client and her boss’s boyfriend. Again, absolutely wild that this needs to be explained. Also, Emily seems shocked at the suggestion that Antoine wants to sleep with her. How are you surprised, baby? He sent you lingerie! What did you think that meant?

In the next scene, Emily and Mindy are walking into the art gallery, discussing if Emily should give Antoine the lingerie back, and I have to wonder if her company has an HR department. It sure seems like they don’t. Mindy, for some reason, encourages Emily to sleep with Antoine. She is clearly not a good friend, or at least not a good friend to ask for advice. When they get to the party, Emily sees Camille speaking to the hotel owner, Randy Zimmer, who looks a lot like Antoine. (Sidenote, Randy is played by Elon Bailey, who I know from playing Pinocchio on Once Upon a Time, which was very distracting for me).

Camille introduces Emily to Randy, and the whole time Emily is making googly eyes at Camille, which again felt very...suggestive?

Emily then tries to court Randy as a client by reciting his own quotes from interviews to him and telling him he needs to “tease the smell” of his hotels, whatever the fuck that means. There is no way that this would work in the real world, but in the Emily in Paris universe, it does, because here up is down, and Emily is good at her job.

The next day, Randy comes to Emily’s office, and Antoine gives him a demonstration of their products because obviously, the CEOs of each of these companies would be hands-on with this project. They decide to have dinner together, prompting Randy to state, “I’m up for anything with a Michelin star,” which is quite possibly the worst sentence I have ever heard in my entire life.

While Emily is on the phone trying to make a reservation, Antoine sneaks up behind her in the creepiest way possible. He tells her he didn’t buy the lingerie for himself, but for her. I don’t care who he bought it for; it is still inappropriate and creepy. He also says, “I understand you have different boundaries,” while stepping towards her and invading her personal space. So, while he may understand she has different boundaries, he definitely does not respect them.

When they get to the restaurant, Emily discovers that because Europeans write the date day before month, as opposed to the American month before day, she made the reservation for November 8th rather than August 11th. As opposed to Emily’s usual stupid mistakes, this blunder, I found funny and relatable. I could see myself doing this. She then calls Gabriel, because a professional chef can definitely take a phone call in the middle of service, and asks him to stay open late for her group. He says yes, and then his wait staff apparently doesn’t murder him, which they would’ve been 100% justified in doing.

Why would she take them to Gabriel’s restaurant? She told Sylvie that Gabriel was the one who sent her the lingerie. I felt like I could see where this was going from a mile away. But then, it doesn’t go there. Like, yes, Sylvie does tell Gabriel that he has exquisite taste in lingerie, which Gabriel questions, but Emily pushes Sylvie out of the restaurant, and everyone just moves on? I feel like they’ll circle back in a later episode, but I also wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t based on how this show has gone so far.

Outside the restaurant, Sylvie, who now feels confident she is not competing with Emily for Antoine, is actually nice(ish) to Emily. She tells her she did a good job and encourages her to go after Gabriel. I loved this because I desperately want Sylvie and Emily to be friends. Television is always better when women are working together instead of against each other. Women competing for men’s attention is a tired, dated trope, and we, as a society, need to move on. (Unrelated, but did you guys see my Bachelor recap?)

Emily takes Sylvie’s advice, goes back into the restaurant, and has a steamy makeout with Gabriel. Fuck yes, Emily! After this, Emily exits the restaurant and runs into Camille, who is revealed to be Gabriel’s girlfriend, and holy shit, is that a good plot twist! The episode ends on this note, and I was so eager to continue, I almost watched the next episode without writing the blog first. Expect the next recap imminently.

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ssa25 · 4 years

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Souffles and Love - Sasuhina Month 2020 - Day 6

Chef AU

The maître d’ swung by the kitchen to inform him that the last guests for the night had arrived. They would not be accepting any more diners for the evening. As a two Michelin star restaurant, they needed tables to be reserved weeks in advance.

Sasuke finished the final touches of the braised duck before the server picked it up. The new Commis chef had a case of nervous shaky hands that left him with the job of plating. As the Head chef, he had to make sure things run smoothly.

“Last order.”, the expo shouted minutes later. “One Mandarin parfait and One Apple Tarte tatin.”

His pastry chef was an older woman who had more experience than any of them. She promptly got to work on the perfect dessert plates to end the day on a high.

As soon as the last plates went out of the kitchen, Sasuke commended his kitchen staff for their good work. He also had a quick word to the new chef offering him some positive advice in the usual stern manner he was known for. Then, he made his way to the back office. He was expecting his business partner and General Manager Suigetsu to be behind his desk, but the room was unoccupied.

Just as Sasuke turned to go back to the kitchen, he saw Suigetsu walk towards him with a less than pleased expression.

“Ah, Sasuke… I was just looking for you. There’s been an issue, unfortunately.”

Sasuke frowned and asked him, “What issue?”

“One of the diners is not happy with the food. Juugo tried to talk with the customer, but she seemed quite stubborn. Said something about the duck being too dry.”

“What a load of nonsense!! The duck was perfectly cooked, I confirmed it myself.”

Suigetsu rubbed his neck in exasperation. “I know man… I believe you… But our reputation is at stake. Would you mind it terribly to see the lady? She is insisting on meeting the head chef.”

Sasuke snorted with indignation. He was usually very uncomfortable receiving praise and attention on a first hand basis. He’d much rather, they leave reviews on the internet for other people to see. But receiving complaints personally had to be a first. How dare someone try to fault his food? Food that he has spent his sweat and blood to perfect.

“Fine. Take me to her.”, he said with a determined air. He would teach this woman a thing or two about her great food.

Taking off his blue striped apron, he followed Suigetsu to the empty dining hall, which was now being cleaned and prepped for the next day.

“Where is this customer?”, he asked.

“Right this way.”, Suigetsu led him to the corner table behind dark wooden beams.

Sasuke’s steps faltered when he saw his beautiful wife, sitting at the table with a few balloons. He realised he had fallen for a ruse. A perfectly happy ruse. He had not at all expected to see Hinata that evening, since she was not supposed to be back from Paris for the two more months.

She got up from her seat and bit her lower lip with a shy but giddy smile. He could not help the wide grin as he closed the distance between them.

“What are you doing here? When did you get back?”, he asked her but before she could even answer him, he swooped her in impatiently for a passionate kiss. Hinata responded back with the same zeal. Being married for two years and having stayed away from him for almost six months had been brutal for both of them.

When Suigetsu cleared his throat, Hinata pulled away feeling a little embarrassed. Sasuke turned to see that his whole restaurant staff had gathered behind him and witnessed their private moment.

“We haven’t seen each other in very long.”, the excuse spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Not that it’s any of all your business.”

Most of them snickered behind their palms. It wasn’t everyday that their boss was flustered. When Sasuke faced Hinata again, she held a plate with the warm soufflé ramekin up to him. It had a very thin lit candle in the centre of it.

“I’ve made you a birthday soufflé.”, she quipped.

Someone dimmed the lights in the restaurant, and he could not take his eyes off the radiant smile on her face. All the stress from the day had vanished, and all he could feel was immense joy. If he had been anyone else, he might have jumped up the table and danced.

But Sasuke being Sasuke nodded and hid his emotions behind a tight lipped smile. “Hn… What kind?”

“Tomato and cheese.”

He grunted in approval and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Happy birthday Sasuke!”, she wished him as her eyes sparkled with an intense emotion that reverberated in his heart.

“Blow on it, and make a wish.”, she reminded him.

Sasuke followed her advice and blew on the single candle, just as everyone clapped. They wished him in unison, but did not break into the birthday song, because Suigetsu had warned them that Sasuke would dash off if they did so.

Everyone shook hands with him and wished him before retiring for the night. Hinata passed on a box of her handmade vanilla buttercream cupcake to each one of them. Suigetsu in particular winked and nudged him before reminding him to exit through the service door.

“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? I am sure our Sous chef can handle the kitchen for one day.”, he suggested before leaving. Sasuke said he would think about it.

As soon as the crowd dispersed leaving the couple alone, Sasuke sat beside Hinata and pulled her up to his lap. He nudged his nose at the point where her shoulder met her neck and inhaled her maddening scent, which was a mix of her signature perfume, her own essence and warm vanilla.

Hinata giggled knowing that Sasuke was showing how much he missed her and how happy he was to see her.

“I missed you too…”, she said softly. She lifted his chin to leave a light peck on his nose. “Won’t you try the soufflé?”

“Feed it to me.”, Sasuke demanded in a playful tone.

Sasuke hummed upon his first spoonful. After tasting so many decadent and complex flavours throughout the day, Hinata’s food was exactly what he needed. It was warm, light and airy with a gooey tangy and cheesy centre. Two things that he absolutely loved.

“I’ve said this before and I will say it again… I think you wasted your talents at the bakery you used to work at…”, he said.

“Well, thank you for that back-handed compliment…”, she laughed at his knack for absolute honesty. “And also for letting me do this Pâtisserie course all the way over in Paris…”

Sasuke shook his head. “You deserve it more than anyone else.”

She wound her arms around his neck and pouted, “But I feel like I should do something more to show you how thankful I am.”

“Well, I was thinking…. You could maybe, agree to work with me as a pastry chef here.”

Hinata pretended to think hard about his generous offer.

“Hmmm… Orrrr… I could open up my own pâtisserie… After all, I love interacting with customers and having handsome strangers for loyal customers...”, she teased him by alluding to their meetings before he explicitly asked her out.

He tightened his hold on her and laughed with her. “I’m beginning to think Paris was not such a great idea after all… You seem to be forgetting that you already have me… Which reminds me, when do you have to go back again?”

Hinata bit her lips and tilted her head. “Actually, I’m back for good.”

“What do you mean? You still have a few months left…”

“Not anymore… I-... I didn’t tell you this when you visited me two months back, but I actually changed to an intensive course at the recommendation of my mentor… She thought I could do it, and I agreed because it would cut short my time away from you by three months… “

Sasuke listened attentively but did not comment.

“So, I have officially completed my course… You, sir, have a proper French pastry chef for a wife…”

Sasuke gave her a blinding smile at the revelation. “That’s amazing!!... I’m so proud of you, Hinata!!”

“I was hoping for you to be happy… Because I haven’t had the time to buy you a proper birthday present.”

“You’re being silly… I am ecstatic to have you back... And you don’t need to give me anything at all… Turning 33 does not exactly call for gifts...”

“Hmm… “, she turned shy and played with the collar of his black chef’s jacket. “Not even a small one… Like a really really small one…”

“Is that code for something kinky?”, he raised an eyebrow, excited by the prospect.

She smacked him playfully on the chest. “No, it’s code for ‘I am pregnant’, you pervert.”

Sasuke stared at her wide eyes before engulfing her into a bone crushing hug that left her gasping.

“Easy... Pregnant women here…”, she chuckled.

“This is the best birthday ever.”

A/n: Simple and cute sasuhina.

#SasuHina #sasuhinamonth2020 #shmonth2020

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nautiscarader · 3 years

Note

Can I get Day 2 of Kinkmas with Fives/Miko, Miko gets interested in some toys after talking to Zahra about spicing up her and Fives sex lives, Fives overhears and buys a dildo for Miko so they can do a dp without a second person. - vickyships

Sure thing, buddy. Hiko... or Fiko.. Fucko... or whatever this ship’s name is needs more content.

btw this is 3k words wtf did I write this????

(Ao3)

Also, if you enjoyed my work, here’s Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️ .

=========

The blood in Hector's veins simultaneously froze and was set on fire when he heard one phrase he never thought he would hear from the mouth of his girlfriend. He knew he shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her and Zahra's conversation, but he just wanted to know if there was something she'd like for Holidays this year. He did not expect to hear that.

The two letters, so simple and innocent, combined together made his ears ring as he understood the consequences of them.

- ...I so want to try DP with Hector...

He could hear the excitation in her voice, combined with Zahra's supportive giggling that sent shivers down his spine and forced him to move out of the spot, so that he wouldn't be caught. This was not how their trip to the mall was supposed to look like, he thought, wandering through the isles, while girls went their way. Or maybe Miko has arranged the situation so he could hear them?

But as he kept on walking aimlessly, the image of his naked girlfriend using some fancy sex toy mobilised him, and he ventured forward, even though he wasn't even sure if the their city had a sex shop, though if it did, it would be in this hellhole of consumerism.

And if the video games has taught him anything, is that one should always explore every nook and cranny of the area to find the loot. He had to use all of his skills and powers, as if he could cast a revealing spell, or one to help him find a way. His eyes scanned the multicoloured signs and names, searching for a name that would seem innocent and innocuous to the uninitiated, but would be obvious to the correct clientèle.

And then, he noticed it.

"The French Library"

Perfect name. So simple, yet effective at hiding in plain sight. Hector smiled, and with just a bit of nervousness, walked into the shop's front-end, masquerading like a book shop indeed.

- Uh, hi.

He asked the shopkeeper, trying to act naturally. Finding the place was one thing, but a second barrier of entry was the vernacular, the slang, the lingo. A correct passcode would lead him to another section of the shop, where he might find the precious, forbidden item he was looking for.

- Good afternoon, how may I help you? - a women just slightly older than him greeted him - Er, I am looking for... - he leaned against the counter - *Special* items... - Oh, would you like to pick-up the on-line order? - Er, no. - Hector corrected, straightening his pose - I mean *special*, special items.

She blinked.

- Those that tie to the er, nature of French love... - he noticed a curious look on her face, and frantically thought of any other euphemisms - Er, the, the ones that, are, of, eh, certain...

Sweat appeared on his forehead

- I mean... - he suddenly brightened - Baguettes! I would like to browse your baguette section!

The woman sighed.

- Sir, the sex-shop is that way.

She pointed him to the exit, and as Hector followed, he noticed a colourful, pink neon reading "Adult store" just on the other side of the isle.

- Oh, heh, uh, thanks! So-sorry for the, uh, well, everything.

He turned on the spot and rushed out of the shop, feeling the shopkeeper's eyes on his back. The woman sighed. She wasn't paid enough to deal with that.

===================

A few minutes later, as Hector walked into the mall's lobby, he was surprised by Miko jumping into his arms. He didn't have to ask to know where Zahra took her to; the smell of new perfume testers gave her away. But Miko's eyes grew wide when she spotted the small bag he was holding, and he needed to dodge her quick moves and skilled hands to take the gift bag out of her reach, as she frantically tried to get it.

- Gimmegimmegimmegimmegimme! - Come on, baby, you can open it at home. - he laughed, as Miko jumped up and down, growling at the Hector and the bag he was holding way above his head - But I got you exactly what you wanted...

Her angry expression suddenly soften, and she gasped, before closing her arms around his neck... Though she still tried to snatch the present from his hand, like and angry cat.

- Did-Did you really get it? - Well, it's time of giving, isn't it? - he looked into her glimmering eyes, cupped her cheek and kissed her, rendering her utterly defenceless, as she melted in his arms. - Well, I got something for you too. - she quickly recovered and pecked his cheek.

The two waved Zahra goodbye and eagerly walked towards the exit, putting on their gloves and scarves. Though the air was cold, there was little snow this year, making it an easy ride for Hector's used car. Less than ten minutes later Miko eagerly jumped from the car and ran up the stairs to their apartment.

A small one, overlooking a very noisy road, but still, one they could call theirs. As long as they pay rent on time, that is. Miko turned on the small Christmas tree, cut from two old motherboards, to which they soldered a set of LEDs to make it look more festive.

But Miko's eyes were even brighter than that, jumping in place as if she was an animation from a select screen of a fighting game. Hector rolled his eyes and handed her the curved package.

- Okay, you can open it early. But I guess we move to the, uh, bedroom.

By that he meant "to take a few steps deeper into their flat", to the bed right next to their impressive gaming station, one of the few things they have managed to snatch from Hinobi. Miko grabbed the gift and jumped onto the bed, dragging Hector with him.

- Okay, but how did you know what to get me? - Well, uh, I kinda, sorta, overheard what do you want it, so I thought... - OHMIGOSH THANK YOU! - she squealed - I mean, it was also on my publicly available wishlist, scanned by every single ad bot on the Internet, but hey, oldschool.

Miko threw her hands around his neck and kissed him, just before she started ripping the paper of the curved-shaped package to shreds. But as its contents became more and more apparent, the jubilant excitation in her eyes vanished, and when Miko lifted the doubled-sided dildo up, her face was filled with confusion and consternation.

- Hector? - she looked at her boyfriend, equally flabbergasted by her reaction - Er, what's that? - We-Well, you know... - he started explaining - And I *know* what that is - she clarified - But..., er, where- how- why?

She waved the dildo back and forth, as if seeing if it could transfmogrify into the present she expected.

- Well, you-you said you want to try DP, so, I thought...

Miko blinked. For a moment, their eyes connected, giving him a glimmer of hope that he did nothing wrong.

And then she exploded.

- DUAL PULSATION! - she erupted - THAT'S THE NAME OF THE NEW CONTROLLER! - Oh. - hector eyes widened - That-that makes more sense.

Miko sighed.

- Well, you are a man. Minus ten to Subtlety, I suppose... - Hey, I'm not that oblivious. - he protested - I thought that maybe, you know, I wasn't...

He shied away for a moment, catching her attention.

- You what? - I wasn't doing that well, and...

Next moment he was pushed to the bedsheets, as Miko peppered his face with kisses.

- Oh, you dummy. You tall, gorgeous, handsome dummy. - she smiled - I'd never think that.

She kissed his jawline and, as she continued her kisses, her hands started slowly undoing his shirt and jeans, and she let out a pleasant murmur when she felt his fingers on her skin.

- Mhm, it's a good thing we're already on the bed, we can try it out... - Well, yeah, what else-

Miko lifted her head up and shot him once more with a freezing stare.

- Cos I wanted to test the controller I thought my my boyfriend bought me! - she pointed to the TV screen on the wall. - Right, right, sorry... - That's minus twenty to Subtlety. Geez, that thing has been advertised everywhere! Six axis of motion control! Haptic triggers! Built-in microphone to insult mothers of your online opponents! And it can split into two, hence "I wanted to try it with you"! - she raised an eyebrow.

She waddled towards him, losing some of the clothes he has managed to unbuttoned.

- I still love you.

Miko cupped his face and sat in his laps, letting him take over. His arms closed behind her back and she gently flipped her to her back, fighting with her legs and hips that soon surrendered and automatically locked with his. One by one, articles of clothing landed on the small space next to their bed, until Hector gasped at the sight of her breasts, before diving between them.

The pleasant moan that escaped Miko's mouth, combined with her body's automatic impulse to arch gave him the familiar satisfaction, but not as big as the feeling of her fingers digging into his trousers.

- Come'ere...

Following her order, Hector rose above her, letting her undo his pants and free his cock in one, quick swoop. Soon, the same fingers that mercilessly tested the durability of every arcade machine known to man, delicately closed around his cock, shortly before her lips did the same, engulfing his head with a gentle kiss.

Two clumsy moves of his legs later his pants and trousers joined the pile on the ground, leaving him completely naked. Miko took the dildo and brought it next to her boyfriend's cock, eyeing both of them carefully.

- Modelled after yours? - she looked up, seeing a faint smile on his face, fighting with the overwhelming bliss of her caresses. - Come... come on, Miko... I'm not that big... - You're big enough for me.

She kissed him once more and reached to their night-stand for a pack of condoms.

- Now, we gotta put an extra armor on it... - Miko cooed, sliding a condom on one end of the dildo - And on your little warrior too...

When her fingers touched Hector's cock, she heard a soft whimpering, and when she looked up, she found her boyfriend giving her a begging frown, to which she only responded with an sigh.

- High Five, you have already given me one present, you don't want to give me another surprise one, do you?

She stressed out her words, drawing his sight to her underbelly, where she was dragging her finger. She could feel shivers on his skin, as her allusion this time reached him completely.

- Besides I'd have to wait nine months to actually get it, and we both know that pre-ordering SUUUUUCKS, and, well, we're not ready for it.

She took a quick glance at their small bedroom, from which they could pretty much see almost every other corner of their flat. A small pang of melancholy hit her, from which hector brought her back with another kiss.

- Don't worry, Miko, I'll gladly wait until we upgrade our rig.

He smiled and slid on the condom himself, right before he leaned between her legs to do one last thing.

- Come on, open that lootbox.

She giggled when she felt his fingers dance across her slit, as he taunted her, delaying her the pleasure. With his other hand on her thick thighs, he felt her impatience, as she tried to prevent her legs from thrashing against their bed, while hector kissed her through the fabric of her panties.

- High Fiiiive! - she roared, initially in annoyance, though her voice broke when his mouth touched her wet panties. - I don't know, maybe it will have better value when left in original packaging?

But Miko had enough. She grabbed the edges of her panties and straight ripped them apart, leaving Hector no choice but to dive into her wet, overflowing sex, to take the first lick of her arousing juices. His tongue lapped the eagerly, while his girlfriend narrated his progress with short moans and short jolts of her muscles.

Though Hector would love to feel the full force of her orgasm splashing against his face - which was only fair after he finished on hers so many times - he wanted to try the present, and so, while his lips caressed her folds, he brought the tip of the dildo to her butthole, first sending just a wave of warm air to eliminate the cold, alien feel.

Still Miko shivered when he pressed the tip of the rubber against her ass, and their eyes met, giving Hector a clear sign to follow. He pushed the fake cock further along, listening to the moan that escaped through Miko's throat. Knowing how delicate her other hole was, he was gently moving if\t back and forth, while his tongue licked her slit, though with each push, he slid it just a fraction of inch further, hearing the approval in her rising tone.

But at some point, Miko loudly announced it is time for what her present was supposed to be.

With her legs high in the air, resting on Five's shoulders, she grabbed the dildo, allowing herself to push it as far as she found it comfortable, while Hector lined up his cock with the entrance that overflowed with her juices and his saliva.

Another wordless nod, and the two began. As soon as Hector slipped himself inside her, Miko's legs tensed and curved, upon the presence of two cocks in her body. Hector was glad that they were doing it in the middle of the day; only so many times they could blame her moans on fans cooling overheating graphic cards...

- You okay, babe?

After the initial shock, Miko could only babble with parts of words, but she nodded, encouraging him to continue his gentle pushes. And with that, their bodies began rocking against each other, each push of Hector's also delicately impaled her on the fake dildo, and though the position would be otherwise slightly uncomfortable, Miko was on cloud nine, panting with her tongue stuck out, as the presence of twice as many lovers in her truly turned her brain to mush.

But she was conscious enough to demand more. Hector could feel her moving her ankles that would otherwise be kicking his butt to speed up, and he gladly fulfilled her wish, diving deeper into her, and letting her slide further onto his rubbery double.

With each thrust, Hector was pushing her limit further and further, until he embraced his dominant position and simply leaned over her, allowing his hip to simultaneously slam his cock inside her, and let the dildo fill her ass up. With last ounces of her strength, Miko, held onto to the rubbery cock, feeling as if she truly was sandwiched between two lover, missing the illusory Hector's breath and kisses on her neck, which he always left when he was taking her from behind.

And so when he leaned over her and placed a single kiss on her collarbone, Miko lost it, thrashing her body as double wave of orgasms rushed through her loins, much to hector surprise. He watched as his girlfriend melts in front of him, until she could move no more and let her arms and legs become limp, while her chest was rising up and down, in erratic, fashion.

- I take it that you enjoyed it?

She responded with a vaguely recognisable words, but she sobered up at once, when she realised that Hector hasn't joined her in post-orgasmic bliss.

- Oh, w-wait. You didn't... - Yeah, but don't worry...

Miko got onto her knees, which was easier said than done, with her legs wobbling. She discarded the used condom, grabbed a piece of paper to clean herself up after exploding orgasms, and faced the cock that supplied one half of her pleasure. But then, she put one more condom on the two-ended dildo, and slipped the rubber from Hector's cock to use it on the other end of her present.

- I want you in all holes.

And with that, Miko licked her lips, closed her eyes and took Hector into her mouth, while her hands aimed the two ends of the dildo to her two entrances,

They both knew that they won't last long. Hector was on his edge anyway, and Miko's sex and asshole were still quivering from recent orgasms, so any stimulation would drive her crazy. And indeed, as she bounced up and down onto the curvy piece of rubber, she would have been already howling with pleasure, if not for Hector's cock in her mouth.

Hector's watched as Miko's eyes widened and bulged under not one, two, but three stimuli. At the same time, she felt her holes contract around her new lover again, while a wave of Hector's cum flooded her mouth, giving her just a split of a second to take one last breath. His body shivered with hers, and ultimately, the over-stimulation forced her to bail out, letting last of Hector's climax cover her breasts, as she rolled to her back, once more thrashing from the amount of pleasure.

But this time, she had Hector's mouth and his kisses to soothe the fire that consumed her, and his pecks delivered in strategic places allowed her body and mind to return to Earth, especially when he gently cleaned her body with paper towels, peppering each inch of her skin with more kisses.

Soon, Miko was purring in satisfaction as her boyfriend made up for the gift mix-up with more of his tenderness, and she eagerly leaned up her butt against his member, to feel the familiar stiffness she felt when she cuddled with him before falling asleep.

- Mhm, I think I like that present of yours. - she turned her head to meet his tired eyes. - Glad I could fill your tastes.

He cupped her face and their lips met in a long, soothing kiss.

- And don't worry, I will get you the real controller. - Hector apologised - I shouldn't have been thinking just about.... you know, sex and all. - That's okay. - Miko moaned, nestling herself against his body - That controller has five different vibration modes, so I was going to bring it to the bedroom anyway.

Hector blinked.

- Wait, what. - Oh, yeah. It would have been a steal, since it would be a controller AND a vibrator. Best deal ever.

Hector gulped, as realisation dawned on him.

- A-And did you discuss it with Zahra...? - Ssh.

Miko put a finger over his mouth.

- Don't spoil what I got for you... And her.

============

A/N: "Dual Play" is based on name of "Dual Shock", a default PS controller, its shape is based on the "boomerang"/"banana"-like prototype of PS3 controller, and its duality is a nod to Joycons.

#hiko #fiko #lemon #Anonymous #aged-up characters and all that #hector nieves #Miko kubota #glitch techs #nautiscaraderfics #MikoFive #Fiko #Hecko #Miko Kubota #Hector Nieves

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Loki Baby Pt 18

Special thanks to Incaprincess for helping me think up how to take this part. Huge hugs your way for helping me out of my slump. :D

@theincaprincess, @alishlieb, @lilith15000, @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shesakillerkween

Harsh and fast your mind had drifted off and again you felt old rages and irritations flood back into the front of your mind. The world seemed to drift into the distance as the savage thoughts came forward. All the way back to the end of the universe where you had left Clara Oswald and Ashildr. One hard punch to keep your godfather from losing his memories and to follow the orders of the Council on Gallifrey to retrieve the stolen Tardis. She wanted to wait out eternity before facing her death so there you left her with her friend and sent the Doctor on his way while you returned the stolen Tardis now in pendant form you dropped back at the Council. The sting of your knuckles still there while you peered up at a painting of one of the old battles Odin had gone on.

Turned around Jack caught that same lingering gaze he knew he himself had been locked in. A common side effect of creatures lost to this path, creatures left to assume they were monsters one time or another, cursed beings to only bring about pain and suffering. “Where are you?” Jack whispered folding his arms around you from behind.

Lowly you muttered, “Punching Clara Oswald.”

Chuckling to himself he replied, “She broke the rules.”

“It was more the landscape of the end of the universe. That cluster of columns looks familiar.”

Jack’s head tilted and he smirked, “Ah, just like Trespan, that statue looks like your great great uncle Hector.” His head turned and he asked, “Loki, is this Trespan?”

Loki turned from the control panel he was explaining to Peter on how to operate the viewer to a database of film reels to see a battle Thor had mentioned and came closer asking, “Trespan?”

Jack nodded and asked, “Three suns, pink, blue and green, got about five rings and these huge temples. Giant screeching hippo like creatures that can fly, two month swooping seasons, absolutely dreadful, not really sure why they stayed there to be honest..”

Loki’s brows furrowed a moment and he said, “We call it Xquiem, but yes, father did mention it was a dreadful place. You know it well?”

Jack turned saying, “That statue is my great uncle Hector. Took Jaqi there once as a kid.”

“They do have spectacular burritos though.”

Loki wet his lips, “Was this before or after father annihilated the planet?”

Sharply you giggled saying, “Planet looked like that when he landed, worst he did was switch on the recouping generator,” that had Loki’s brow inching up, “Whole planet’s stuck in a reversing timeline, Odin landed in its decaying age, like a reverse acid rain, soon as they build something it crumbles to dust and slowly goes back to new again. Whole generations in their elder days seeing their towns and homes anew, there is beauty in growing old. They remodel in their final years so the next generation could begin to see the beauty too. But they were invaded, before Odin and locked in a stasis, which he kicked back on again, hence the trouble in trying to conquer.”

Loki chuckled, “Makes me wonder how much of father’s tall tales became his legacy easily mended.”

Out his hand stretched and he said, “I promised you view of our inner silver falls. Now sapphires, but stunning all the same.” Making you smirk and lay your hand on his with jack grinning in his path after you.

Through the Palace and out into the open swaying green fields between golden fields of grains you followed the eager King towards a distant stream at the end of a trio of water falls. The cool silver water shifting to clear streams splitting below with floating clumps of silver separating from the fall collected by sifters and the giant octupi under the surface shimmered in varying colors circling the stone path you walked across. Crouching down your hand reached under the water and a baby gladly coiled around your fingers allowing you to lift it and look it over while Peter did the same further down chuckling as two adults climbed up his legs.

Loki, “They do enjoy the attention. They won’t hurt us, actually have secretions we collect for some of our medicines and the sifters perfect their nest conditions.”

Jack, “How come there aren’t more?”

Loki, “We have more in falls farther South. Far larger, less useful for medicines but they do keep the walrus from taking over our grazing pastures.”

A faint ring turned your head and you stood asking, “You hear that?”

From your palm the baby’s skin flaps between its tentacles opened and it leapt from your palm to float back down to the water and Loki moved closer to your side peering upwards pointing at a floating cube, “What is that?”

Looking from him to the cube his finger was aimed at you let out a giggle, “Mail.”

Loki, “It looks like a tesseract.”

Smirking up at him you reached out claiming the box saying, “And who do you imagine gave your people the tech to protect that infinity stone, I suspect Odin claimed that too.”

Glowing brightly in your palm, the marking coated box that began to whisper, though your grin dropped and you rolled your eyes making Loki smirk at Peter’s waist deep walk to you asking, “That like an old tape recorder?”

“Something like that.” Turning to look at Jack you huffed out, “We have to go to Church.”

Loki, “An actual church?”

“Not the sort you would assume. It’s the base for the Papal Mainframe.”

Jack, “Wonder what it could be. Tasha knows better than to write us without reason.” He looked to Peter, “Her and the missus hate one another.”

“Can’t be good,” Looking to Loki you asked, “How comfortable are you with nudity?”

Peter looked over you three asking, “Nudity?”

Jack, “Can’t go to church with clothes on.” Leading the way back to Precious with Peter timidly following after you only to relax at Jack’s saying, “Don’t worry, you can stay in the ship.”

Peter nodded and with K9 trotting to join you eyeing the message in your palm stating, “There does not seem to be any underlying messages encoded.”

“No,” Through the door you led the way saying, “Precious, we’re off to Church.” Triggering her console to light up and begin to hum and you glanced at Peter, “We’re gonna go change, if you go through the green door you can give my arcade a whirl.” His brows inched up, “Takes virtual reality to a whole new level.”

His lips parted and K9 stated, “I shall guide you through the interface,” trotting to a hall on the right leading Peter in his excited path to see what your arcade was like.

Into your costume room you went and gripped the bottom of your shirt up over your head you pulled folding it to leave on a stool saying to Loki, “I’ll do my best not to stare.”

In the bunching of his own shirt he pulled up over his head onto his shoulders and arms to himself he chuckled trying not to look your way seeing your shorts being added with your panties to the pile over your bra. Jack took notice of his blush and said, “Feel free to stare my way all you like.” Only making the King chuckle again and undo his trousers to add to his own pile hearing Precious humming to you warning of how close she was getting.

Back to the control panel you went settling the message on the console sending off a warning pulse of your arrival causing their gate to open for you to land in their docking bay. Curiously eyeing the ship Loki stepped out behind you with Jack exiting first, from the lines of uniform wearing men to your back he took in all he could of your figure under your loose waist length curls you were brushing over your left shoulder on the side your father was on. The motion only luring Loki to steal a glance your way from the corner of his vision.

“Bluejay.”

“Tasha Lem, you wrote?”

Flatly from a cold gaze at Jack, who was glaring at her in return, “I am surprised you came without your crypt keeper.”

Jack, “My wife isn’t the only one with trick blades, Tasha, get to the point or I’ll give you a new hole in your head to go with that Dalek probe.”

“Perhaps I might show you what my weapon can do.” She snarked back.

To which you replied, “Please do I enjoy a good conductor.” Her eyes snapped back to you seeing the lightning flickering in your eyes matching the currents flowing between your fingertips.

Straightening up she inhaled deeply and said, “Had I been allowed to contact the Doctor I would have, but it was addressed to you.” From a floating tray she lifted a newspaper you claimed and opened flipping to the classifieds.

Straight through the French printed ads for nurses and maids for households you spotted one calling for a Bluejay for a Blueberry Bellerophon. “Oh what is the little tyrant up to now?” Jack glanced at you as you turned saying, “Napoleon.”

Loki turned glancing up seeing you three inside Precious walking back to the costume room to get dressed again, “We are after a tyrant?”

Jack, “More like a person who irritated him.”

“Or the one irritating him.”

Loki nodded then glanced back at the door, “Is that normally,”

You patted his bicep saying after wiggling into your panties, “We never really got along. She was one of Doctor’s flings, liked to parade her way around his ship flying it where she wanted after he lost one of his wives and hit a slump.”

Loki watched you hooking your bra and strolling around him to find a pair of pants while the duo got back into their own pants. The King asked watching you bounce a pair of black jeans up, pausing at your thighs with a huff, “Damnit Doctor…stealing my good pants.” Pushing them down you stepped out of them and kicked them away turning back to burrow under a long rack of shirts to dig in the cubbies between that and the skirts, “Grumpy twig of a man.”

Loki chuckled and his smile doubled at your pulling out another pair, “Ah ha.” You unfolded, lowering to bounce into and nip at your lip in zipping and hooking the button before turning in a finger wiggling browse through your collection of sweaters to pull on a baggy forest green one you added a grey vest over it. Matching long socks and tall boots were next to be pulled over your tight jeans as the men finished adjusting their shirts.

Loki, “Will we be requiring weapons?”

“Most likely, no. He’s not as imposing as he seems by his reputation.”

Out to the main hall you led the way only to see Peter wide eyed sliding into the hall ruffling his fingers through his hair, “King Kong, millipedes, everywhere.”

With a smirk you said, “Ya, really turns out to be more like Skyrim than a four hour action shooter. Full immersion.”

With a nod Peter wet his lips asking, “Church, went well?”

Jack, “We got a message to head to HMS Bellerophon.”

Peter’s brows furrowed a moment muttering the name then said, “Sounds French? HMS, a ship?”

Loki, “Apparently we are to see a tyrant named Napoleon.”

That dropped Peter’s jaw and he asked while you showed the page to K9, who was scanning it for any more messages, “Napoleon?! I thought we could only visit the city and fly over a couple battles, not actually go see the man himself!”

Your head tilted a moment, “Well, technically we can meet him, he’s just not the most hospitable. Hence the help message.”

K9, “This message has Corsair’s numerical code etched into the reverse image of the message behind the one calling for aid.”

Lowly you muttered, “Figured as much. Anyone else would prefer Hamilton or Hendrickson over Napoleon any day.”

Jack, “Can’t imagine why she would be calling for aid.”

You shrugged moving to the control panel eyeing the signals flowing across the screen making your brows furrow, “It seems they’ve fired a cannon at her Tardis.”

Jack let out a laugh, “Oh, no doubt the tyrant will be in pieces when we land.”

Seeing Loki’s confusion Peter broke into a full on description of the tyrant in question and a bit on his reputation while you steered your ship to hover beside Napoleon’s, “Alright, bit of a hop.” You said walking to the door you opened revealing the scent of smoke and salt water on the breeze along with voices and orders through the ship. Into your dangling hand K9 passed you your screwdriver sheath you pocketed then hoped out onto the railing and onto the deck with him at your side.

Behind you the trio hopped down and past the parting soldiers clearly recognizing you and frightened from your ship appearing from nowhere that shut and shifted to settle around your neck. Straight to the door for the Captain’s quarters you walked following the familiar female voice shouting curses at the men around her. Once you were in her sights the dark haired hazel eyed woman relaxed in her bindings saying, “Bluejay.”

The name had the men turning to puff up with guns shifting to you inhaling sharply while K9 shot a laser off to burn her binds from your side. “Corsair, you know we weren’t supposed to come back to these waters this decade past shielded overhead scouting, you set the terms.”

She fired back in a pop up to her feet, “I wouldn’t have but he stole my muffin tin and he’s lying about it and blasted a cannon ball at my ship!”

The man in question stood with his arms crossed leaning against his desk only to inch up his chin smugly when your gaze hit his in the arching of your brow, “We’ve talked about this.”

Shaking his head he released his arms to wave a hand in the air through Peter’s subtle slip away closer to Napoleon’s side, “I do not know this muffin you speak of.”

“Leader of the French Naval Forces doesn’t understand muffin, got it.” Lowering your gaze to K9 at Corsair’s feet you said, “K9, scan the room please,” after a moment your fingers rose to your pendant, “Copper, if you and your family wouldn’t mind searching the rest of the ship for a muffin tin.” Around you the giant floating otters appeared and soared off through the ship luring screams from the frightened sailors in Napoleon’s smug stance stiffening.

Leaning sideways in his own interrogating gaze he muttered to Peter, “This is him? Hardly a threat to me.”

Peter smirked replying, “You and me both.”

Napoleon’s resolve hardening by the moment through the growing sound of shouts and things being rummaged through while Peter got to his side and out of his view made Jack smirk seeing him measuring himself against the man with his hand and capturing the result on his phone with a picture. Once the man’s head turned Peter flashed a grin and hopped over the desk to walk around to Corsair’s side giving her a grin as well. Peering down at him she said, “You’re new.”

Peter said, “My second trip really. Just came from Asgard.”

Corsair, “I love Asgard, have you seen the Truffle fields?”

Loki said, “Ah, those were lost when the Eastern shore caught fire.”

Her grin sank, “Oh, you look familiar.”

Jack said, “King Loki of Asgard.”

Corsair pointed at him saying, “That’s it, the resemblance is uncanny, haven’t been in ages.”

K9 completed his final circle of the room stating, “Search results, negative.”

Napoleon, “See, there-,”

Through the door Copper and his brothers flew, three of them holding tins that Corsair came to inspect, the one on the end she said pointed to, “This one’s mine! See, my snake!” She said causing the other two otters to hurl the tins through the door at the shouting Frenchmen silencing in the attack, to your side they flew and vanished to enter your ship to be fully protected again, proudly chattering amongst themselves while the confused Frenchmen wondered at your flying creatures.

Napoleon broke his silence at her shaking the tin in his face, “No muffin tin? You pint sized puff of hot air!”

Aloofly he replied after a purse of his lips, “Ah, that is muffin? I thought it was for soap.”

A crack left Corsair in her near lunge for Napoleon Jack ended in his arm looping around her stomach to keep her from killing the man, “The fuck! Soap?! I’ll turn you into soap!”

With a sigh you turned while she was carried out of the room back to the deck and giving him the ‘I’m watching you’ hand gesture you made your own way out, “Keep it in line Bonaparte.”

At Loki’s side you strolled across the deck picking up your pace to make the hop up onto the rail and into your now hovering ship again releasing a whistle and wagging your finger you said, “Come on Cosmo, we’ll patch you up.”

At that a smoking flamingo on a stick that was hiding in the mast lowered and zoomed in through your door that closed behind you making Loki chuckle. “Camouflage I take it?”

“He’s usually a giant serpent, must have hit it just right to jam him into a flamingo yard ornament.”

Corsair huffed saying, “You should have let me throttle him.”

Jack said helping to straighten her long skirt’s outer layer, “You know he’s due to die in soon anyways.”

She huffed again, “Not soon enough.”

Loki said, “If you require time for repairs you could join us on Asgard.”

Corsair said, “Ah, I’m not technically allowed to leave the planet for a week still.”

Loki glanced at you as you said, “After a Time Lord heals or regenerates there’s a courtesy grounding for all Tardis except for that Time Lord once they are recovered.”

Corsair, “Heard you took a nasty hit in that Reaper scuffle back in the 40’s. You alright?”

You nodded, “Just a nick to a nerve. Needed a rest. You sure about lingering?”

She nodded, “Yup, don’t mind me I have a poker game to get back to. Just got the call on my way back to my castle from a poker game with Ivan the Terrible, got kicked out of town, apparently I was terrorizing him. Imagine that.”

You giggled and Jack said, “Always did have thin skin.”

Peter, “So Napoleon is a thief and Ivan the Terrible is a ninny?”

With a giggle you said, “Wait till you meet Alexander the Great, obsessed with lemons, and I mean obsessed.”

Corsair giggled as Cosmo gave Precious the coordinates to their castle hideaway in Norway, “Do try to hide any glitter from him, always ends badly, always.” Leading the way over to your armchairs she asked Peter, “So, when are you off to next?” Her eyes drifting over to you in your cross legged lean into Loki’s side weaving your arm and hand with his stirring a curious smirk across her lips.

Peter pursed his lips a moment and he said, “Well if you’re talking Alexander maybe we could drop in on King Leonidas in Sparta.”

“Ooh, nice choice, however, I do have to warn you, it’s not like in the movies, he was nearly 60 when he died. Not all buff men in leather bikinis and crimson capes ripped to no end.”

For a moment he paused and Jack stroked his back as he said, “I feel, so betrayed.”

Each detail of the film was gone through and scoffs grew while Jack smirked chatting with Loki who was clearly not caught up to that section of history yet. Yet smoothing his hands over his face Peter grumbled, “This is just like when I heard in school there was no Santa Clause.” The pause and wide eyed gaze when he looked your face over was priceless as he shot out, “There is?!”

Corsair giggled out, “Why wouldn’t there be?”

“Although his preferred name on Earth is Sven, but he does operate on a belief system that is time sensitive and shielded to appear like parents do the work because they can only spend so much time on each child. Like, in films and such where the mom clearly signed dad’s name but mom is just smiling and confused swearing she only bought two gifts but there’s three and she keeps saying open it so she can find out what is inside to try and remember buying it. Things like that.”

Practically vibrating Peter let out a squeak folding his hands together on his lap as you glanced at Loki’s watch and said, “You know, we could catch him on his off season if you wanted to meet him.”

Jack, “Just don’t complain about presents you didn’t get, does not end well.”

Peter glanced between you, “How does it go?”

Corsair giggled, “He sort of explodes.”

“Rebuilding the shop is such a chore so we try to avoid that.”

Peter nipped at his lip, “maybe not today, I did agree to go to Sif’s partner’s musical show.”

Loki, “Ah, yes, mother did mention that.”

“Take your time, we can hang out for a few days give you some time to think it over.”

One vast castle later and back to Asgard you went drawing a relaxed sigh from Queen Frigga on her balcony staring at the spot you had left not four minutes ago. A calming wave from Loki came with his guiding you and Jack up to the sitting room with tea ready for you all as Peter swung off to meet up with Sif and her partner to introduce him to the other musicians.

Loki released your hand to lean in and kiss Frigga’s cheek, “Sorry mother, a distress call came from another Frey in the past. Quite amusing, the French have a tiny tyrant in their past, a Napoleon, who has a fondness for kleptomania.”

Frigga chuckled, “Well, I am glad it was not Thor,”

Loki’s brow inched up, “Why would it be Thor?”

She replied, “He would be missing you terribly. Heimdall keeps me up to date on his progress.”

Loki, “I could always send word that he could send for Rocket if he wished for a visit.”

Valkyrie passing by paused stating, “I could send the message if you wished, Your Majesty.”

Frigga, “That would be lovely, thank you. Both my boys back in time for the equinox.”

Loki chuckled weakly, “No doubt he will be glad for the ale and old faces to comfort his next few months on Midgard.”

Turning to you he claimed your hand again showing you the waiting tea, easing you into your chair beside his.

#Loki x Reader OC

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carapeace · 4 years

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(ok so the keep reading thing is being Weird And Mean so i had to repost the whole thing)

(i’m sorry @involuntarydiaphragmspasm if you got multiple notifs for this i was tryna figure out how to make it work aaaaa)

but here it is if you want to read!! sorry i just saw the shark and kinda ran with the first idea that popped into my head and thus may have not captured all the other emojis well enough oops

Thanks so much for the ask!! 💞

There were few things in this world that Nino Lahiffe was afraid of.

And when he says few, he means very few. Heights? No problem. Snakes? They were cool. Spiders? Irritating, but not scary. (Unless you happened to be Anansi.)

But sharks?

That was at the top of his fears list. Public enemy number one. Maybe it was seeing Jaws when he was five years old or maybe it was the turtle in him, but he hated sharks.

The rest of his fears list was remarkably small. The dark (since he was a kid), blood, public speaking, and Kagami Tsurugi.

(He couldn’t help it. She terrified him.)

So he was not thrilled, to say the least, to be trapped in an aquarium with nobody but Kagami to keep him company.

This was gonna be a long akuma fight.

They were all there in the first place because Marinette was paired up with Adrien on a marine biology project, and the two of them had to go to the aquarium to research, and of course Marinette couldn’t spend more than five minutes alone with Adrien without spontaneously combusting so she had to invite Alya as backup and then Alya invited Nino so she wouldn’t be third-wheeling and then Adrien asked Kagami and by some miracle she could come.

So the five of them went to the aquarium that day, Marinette and Adrien taking notes on the animals and Alya marveling at how cute the two of them were and Nino trying not to show how scared he was. He had no idea what Kagami was doing--he refused to look at her, because you never look your fears right in the eye.

Alya noticed he was acting apprehensive about halfway through, and she nudged him. “Everything all right, babe? You’re looking kind of pale.”

He nodded, managed a smile. Not even Alya knew how scared he was of sharks. And he couldn’t explain it to her now--she’d probably laugh. (Not in a mean way, in a boy-isn’t-it-ironic-that-I-made-you-face-your-worst-fear-by-accident way. He loved his girlfriend more than life, but sometimes she could be kind of tactless, and he didn’t really feel like having this conversation.) So he waved his hand. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

She clutched his arm and pointed straight ahead. “Look! A tunnel!”

He looked. It was indeed a tunnel.

She started pulling him by the elbow, holding up her phone. “We can watch all the fish swim around us! I’ve only seen this kind of thing in movies--c’mon!”

Marinette and Adrien were already inside, taking notes on the animals that they saw and reading the signs. Kagami was following them. She stepped into the tunnel and the blue light washed over her--she looked like a kid stepping into a candy store, her eyes lighting up, her mouth dropping open at the sharks swimming overhead and all around.

That was one long tunnel... Nino couldn’t even see the exit.

He gulped.

“All right.”

He took a tentative step inside the tunnel, trying not to cringe as a shark passed by overhead. Alya was all over everything, reading signs about the water pressure, about all the different animals. She always looked ethereal when she was passionate about something.

Nino tried not to imagine a shark swooping down and biting her head off.

Don’t think about that, don’t think about that...

Quite suddenly, there was a loud siren that made them all jump. Akuma alert, the loudspeaker blared. Akuma in the jellyfish hall. Please shelter in place immediately.

Oh, shit, Nino thought.

Marinette went pale and dropped her notebook, Adrien lunging and catching it just in time. He handed it to her. “I think... I think I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Uh, yeah... I think I left my purse in the touch pool room,” Marinette stammered. “I don’t want to lose it during the attack.”

They shared a glance, then sprinted toward the tunnel exit and out of sight.

Alya had to call Nino’s name several times before he heard it, and when he turned to her, she grinned and held her phone up. “I’ve got to film this. Ladybug and Chat Noir will be here any minute!”

And she ran off, too.

Not a minute too early, because the loudspeaker kept saying please shelter in place and then suddenly the ends of the tunnel were starting to close and the siren was going off and everything was too loud and he was trapped.

Nino Lahiffe was trapped in an enclosed tunnel, facing two of his five greatest fears in the face.

Shit shit shit.

Fear number five still hadn’t moved. She was staring at the sharks, eyes wide, washed in the blue light from the water. She followed a shark with her eyes.

Nino sat down and tried not to tremble.

Shiiiiiiit.

Then, so suddenly it made him jump, she snapped her head toward him, eyes locking onto his. Like an owl. Or a shark. “Nino, is it?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Nino tried not to watch the sharks. He pigeon-toed his feet inwards. This nightmare couldn’t be over fast enough.

The silence was actually kind of peaceful, he thought. If he didn’t think about the sharks. Or Kagami. If he just thought about the water, the coral, the calmness of it all--

“Is Nino a full name or a nickname?”

He jumped again. “Jeez, dude, don’t do that, you scared me--”

“Oh,” said Kagami. She looked down at her feet, and he swore she looked--sad? No. Trick of the light.

“Nino’s my full name,” he said quietly. “I don’t have any nicknames.”

He made the mistake of looking to the left then, and a giant shark passed by, so big his whole body could fit in its mouth. It took him a minute to realize his arm was trembling and another minute to steady himself.

He leaned against the wall that had trapped him in the tunnel, hoping it would open, wondering if it would make him feel better or worse to play some music right about now. On the one hand, no more awkward conversations with Kagami. On the other hand, a shark could easily attack him and he wouldn’t hear anything.

He decided the safest bet was to leave the headphones off.

“What’s your blood type?”

“What?”

Kagami turned towards him. She looked so much like a shark in this light that it gave him the shivers. “Your blood type.”

“I don’t know.” And he didn’t really want to talk about it. Blood was fear number three. He didn’t much feel like adding another fear to the pile right about now.

“That’s very interesting. Marinette didn’t know hers, either. I suppose it’s a French thing, to not know your blood type. I am O.”

“Huh.”

She resumed her post, watching the animals. He’d have thought she was a statue, how still she was. “Do you like sitting there?”

“What?”

“Sitting where you are. Do you like it?”

Nino shrugged, and then the impossible happened--she walked over next to him and sat down.

This day could not get any worse.

She looked at him, and somehow he found himself looking back, even though you never look your fears in the eye, Lahiffe, what are you DOING?

“Do you drink orange juice?”

He shook his head to clear it and looked at the ceiling--no, don’t look there, there are sharks. There was a fear everywhere he turned. The safest bet was just to look at the floor.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he said to his sneakers.

“Me, too,” she said.

And then something weird took hold of his words and suddenly he choked out “do you like soda?”

She shrugged, looked up at the sharks above. “My mother says that soda has too much sugar. But she allowed orange juice. It was the sweetest drink I had as a kid. I always loved it. Sometimes I had it for dessert.”

“Orange juice for dessert?” he cried.

Kagami looked at him with a weird expression on her face. “Yes. What?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “It’s just--you should try soda. When you get the chance.”

“Okay,” she replied, and they lapsed into silence.

Nino thought of Alya, whether she was getting herself into trouble or whether she was staying safe. He really hoped she was okay, that she wasn’t in too much danger.

“What’s your favorite animal?” said Kagami.

“Turtle,” replied Nino without thinking.

Kagami cocked her head. “Why?”

“They’re--” he thought. “They’re survivors.”

Kagami nodded sagely, like he’d just said something very wise.

“What about you?”

“Dragon,” said Kagami. “Even though they’re not real in the technical sense. They’re powerful, in a special kind of way. But if I had to pick a real animal... sharks. I’ve never seen one in person before.”

Sharks.

Of course this girl’s favorite animal would be sharks.

Kagami frowned. “Is everything all right, Nino?”

Nino filled up his lungs, emptied them. He stuck his head between his knees.

“I’m scared of sharks.”

It was very strange saying the words out loud. He’d never told anybody that, not even Alya. Not even Chris. And now here he was, telling his fifth fear about his first fear for no particular reason--what was going on with him today?

There was a few seconds of silence, and then Kagami said, “Oh. Was that why you looked so uncomfortable?”

Nino nodded.

“I’m sorry, Nino.”

Nino blinked. “It’s all right. I’m sorry--I shouldn’t have even--forget it.”

Silence for one two three four five six seven heart-stopping seconds--

Then Kagami reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his shoulder. She left it there for a few seconds and made something that resembled a smile, and it dawned on Nino in that moment that maybe she was a little bit afraid of him, too.

She retracted her hand and wrapped her arms around her legs, curled up in a ball. Both of them watched the water overhead.

He turned to her. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“I don’t.”

He laughed. When she didn’t join in, he stopped. “You’re serious.”

She nodded. “My mother says it’s a distraction.”

“You don’t listen to music?”

She shook her head, looking politely bewildered. “Is that bad?”

Nino, in a split-second decision, pulled his headphones off his neck and placed them on her ears, sweeping her hair out of the way. She sat up straight, surprised. “What--”

“Trust me.”

He picked up his phone and scrolled through the library--a song that Kagami would like. What song would Kagami like? He barely knew the girl. Ten minutes ago she was his fifth greatest fear, and now...

Now he didn’t know.

He picked out a lofi song, slow and calm, with a low beat that always reminded him of the color blue. He pressed play, and at first Kagami looked surprised, but after a couple of seconds she relaxed and started to close her eyes.

That day was the first time Nino had ever seen Kagami Tsurugi smile, eyes closed, head leaned back on the floor of the aquarium during an akuma attack while Ladybug and Chat Noir were off doing who knew what and there was water on all sides of them and the sharks swam and danced overhead.

It was gorgeous.

By the time Nino left the aquarium that day, one of his fears was gone.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #nino #kagami #involuntarydiaphragmspasm #thanks for the ask ily #this was super fun #i totally got carried away it's way longer than i thought it was gonna be #but anyway here you go!!!

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hellimagines · 5 years

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18 Months (Part Eight) -- Michael Langdon

Masterlist

Summary: You and Michael get into another fight, but it only succeeds in bringing the two of you closer.

Warnings: Angst, smut

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 7,000+

A/N: THIS SHIT LONG YEET (lemme know what you think tho)

18 Months Masterlist

When you woke up the next morning, alone in the bed you had just been sharing with Michael, you knew something was off. You thought- no, you hoped, that what had happened between you and Michael last night wouldn’t be a one-time thing. You didn’t think you’d be waking up in a cold bed, with your skin on fire. But, it was whatever, right? There were a few moments of passion between the two of you, but that didn’t mean Michael felt the same way. It became very apparent to you that the kiss the two of you shared, was simply a stress-relief for Michael. So, with a clenched jaw and a heavy heart, you pulled yourself out of bed.

Dressed in your typical, black skinny jeans, tank top, and leather jacket, you exited the guest room. You were going to need as much armor as you had available in order to face Michael this morning. Rounding the corner and into the living room, you were startled to see Michael sat on the couch between two young girls from the night before. Madelyn was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and there were a handful of others scattered around Michael. You didn’t miss the way one of the girls placed a delicate arm on Michael’s shoulder, or the way he flashed her that stupid, smug smile of his. But, it didn’t matter. Michael wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his (regardless of the purple bruise he had left on your neck last night). So, whatever he did, wasn’t your problem.

You walked into the kitchen, not saying a word to Madelyn, as you made yourself a cup of black coffee. You had yet to unclench your jaw since waking, and by the side-eye you were being given by Madelyn, you had no doubt that she was about to start asking questions.

“So-” yup, there it is, “-I guess you and Michael didn’t make-up last night?” She questioned, continuing to keep her focus on the French sticks in the pan.

“Guess not,” you shrugged, leaning your back against the counter and holding the burning cup in your hands. You knew, that drinking the hot beverage was more than likely going to make you sick because of how hot you already were, but you didn’t care. You’d rather be sick than tired at this point.

“Don’t be too hard on him-”

“Why, because he’s your ‘Lord’?”

“No. Because he’s your best friend and he loves you. And, you love him just as much. Don’t let a petty fight get between that,” she said, pausing her cooking to look over at you. “I see the way he looks at you, compared to the other girls. Don’t be so insecure.”

“I’m not insecure, I’ll have you know,” you snapped instantly, gaze hardening. “I know my worth, and I know where I stand beside Michael. So stay the fuck out of my goddamn personal business.” You slammed the cup you had been holding down onto the table, coffee instantly sloshing over the edge and onto your hand. You bit back a hiss of pain, instead, turning on your heel and storming out of the kitchen.

And straight into Michael’s chest. “What happened?” he asked instantly, grabbing at your hand even though you had made no indication that it had been injured.

“Don’t fucking worry about it. Move,” you growled, yanking your hand out of his grasp. You silently regretted it, missing the cold that had washed over your burning flesh, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“What has gotten into you? You’ve been awake for what, five minutes? Calm down, fox,” Michael soothed, in an attempt to calm whatever rage had been sparked inside of you.

“Do I have to get it tattooed on my forehead? Don’t tell me what to do.” You shouldered past him with an angry hiss, storming your way back to the guest bedroom you had just left.

As you sat down on the bed, elbows digging into your knees and head cradled in your palms, you suddenly realized just how horrible you had just been. Ever since you opened your eyes you had felt… furious. It was at nobody in particular, not at first. But, you couldn’t fathom not having a reason to be angry, so you found some. Michael not waking up in the same bed as you; not as a big of an issue as you just made it out to be. Michael had business he needed to take care of, and you had no right to hold that against him. Even if you had just confessed your love to one another the previous night. Madelyn trying to help your friendship with Michael; she just wanted the best for her Lord and his companion. You had no right to get mad at her about that, either. Michael swooping in to cradle your burnt hand; the two of you have a bond- you should’ve known he’d feel your pain and uncalled-for rage. You had no right to yell at him for caring. You had no right to do any of the things you had done. You’d only been awake a few minutes and you were starting hell for no goddamn reason.

A knock at the door broke you from your train of thought, and you looked up to see Michael entering the room. “I’m not gonna ask again. What’s the matter?” He came and sat beside you, grabbing ahold of the side of your face to force you to look at him.

“I don’t know…” you whispered, looking at his eyes. “It’s just like the other day. But today, I feel angry.”

“Is it because of our kiss?” he asked, running a thumb over your cheekbone. Without your makeup on, Michael could see the blush that crossed your cheeks.

“Kind of, but not in a bad way, not really,” you mumbled, casting your gaze downwards, and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I know it didn’t mean anything to you, so I-”

“What did you just say?” Michael snapped, his hold on your face becoming rough.

You looked up in shock, releasing your swollen lip from its torment. “I- wait, you actually wanted to kiss me?”

“You are such a dumbass,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course I did, what kind of dumb question is that?”

“You weren’t here when I woke up… I thought you regretted it.”

“No, I don’t (Y/N). Madelyn informed me that some members of the Church came over, and I didn’t want them waking you. So, I left to go to the living room, that’s all. I’m in love with you, and I have been for months. You’re the only one I want by my side. You’re having a bad day, and I get it, and it’s okay- but don’t shut me out because of it,” Michael said, pulling your foreheads together.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately,” you apologized weakly, closing your eyes.

Michael removed his forehead from your own, but before you could open your eyes, he was kissing the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it, baby. This’ll pass,” he reassured, placing a finger under your chin. You opened your eyes, looking back into a sea of blue, before closing them again as Michael leaned down to kiss you.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself.

You were outside of Madelyn’s house, leant against her red Corvette, while watching Michael bid his farewell’s. Madelyn, Michael, and yourself were about to leave to drive out to a tech company in Silicon Valley. According to the older woman, they’d be able to help Michael get Ms. Mead back. You were glad Michael was possibly going to get his mentor back, but you couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that had settled itself in your gut. You’d had this feeling ever since the night Madelyn had found out who Michael really was. You didn’t understand why it was there, but you knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“We’ll be waiting for you, Lord Michael. Until you return home safely to us.” Hannah, the preacher for the Church of Satan, fell to her knees before Michael. She clutched onto his pant leg, looking up at him with adoration and want.

“We shall return in due time. But until then, I ask that you live your lives as you normally would,” Michael said, briefly looking over his shoulder to flash you a smirk.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of us to go with you? We can protect you, my Lord.” A man from the segregation spoke up, taking a confident step forward. “We wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if we lost you.”

“Michael doesn’t need your protection. And if he did, I can do a well-enough job on my own,” you said loudly, catching the attention of everyone on the lawn. “We need to leave.” You gave Michael a raised eyebrow, causing him to quickly finish his goodbyes.

Michael walked back over to you as soon as he had finished, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We have got to sort out this jealous streak of yours,” he mumbled into your ear, before pulling away. Before you could defend yourself and tell him that you ‘weren’t jealous’, Michael was pulling you flush against his chest. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow kiss, smiling as you reached up to grab his face and the gasps of the segregation filled your ears.

“Alright, lovebirds, time to get a move on,” Madelyn snickered, walking around the two of you to get to the driver’s side. You gave Michael a lazy smile as you pulled away, before moving to the side so he could open the back door for you. You and Michael slid into the car, Michael instantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders once you were settled. With a final wave at the crowd, Madelyn started the car and drove off.

As you drove along the coastline of California, Michael removed his arm from your shoulder so he could settle between the two front seats, and talk to Madelyn for a moment. You’d been on the road for a while now, having some idle chit-chatting here and there, but keeping to yourself most of the time. As Michael leaned forward, you rested your chin on his back, listening to the conversation quietly.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t tell us exactly where we’re going,” Michael said to Madelyn, playfulness underlying his words.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “I’m already freaked out I’ve said too much, and you being who you are…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay. I’m still the same guy I was when you met me,” Michael sighed, looking down at you briefly, and smiling at your content form.

“So not true,” Madelyn laughed again, shaking her head.

“Just tell me.”

Madelyn hesitated for a moment, before sighing. “We are like this secret network. We all know each other.”

“Secret network of people who’ve sold their souls?” Michael asked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “and if you think about this network like it’s a hotel, then I am taking the two of you to the penthouse! No one is gonna pass up the chance to meet the true son of the Most Foul! If there’s anyone that can help get you back on track, they can.”

Michael moved back once Madelyn had finished, settling beside you. You curled into his side instantly, placing your hands on his chest, and looking up into his eyes. “I can help get you back on track,” you mumbled quietly, causing Michael to laugh. He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling, before he kissed your forehead.

“You’re the only one that can help get me on track. They’re just gonna add some more fuel for you to use, fox.”

A little while later, you were pulling up in front of a large, glass-paneled building. Madelyn stopped the car out front, allowing you and Michael to get out. The temperature had racked up, so Michael shed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, keeping his free hand entwined with yours. You kept your leather jacket on despite the heat, having become accustomed to it as of late. Michael walked up to the sidewalk, admiring the building, before he paused.

He turned to look at Madelyn, whom still sat in the running car, with a sad look. “You’re not coming with us.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observational statement.

“They’re not interested in me, they’re only interested in you. I’m lucky I got the (h/c) over here, access. I knew you wouldn’t go without her,” she smiled sweetly, and you gave her an appreciative smile in return. “Just go up the path to the entrance. I really think you’re gonna be impressed.” Michael let go of your hand so he could walk up to the car, kneeling beside it. You stayed back, letting Michael have his moment with Madelyn. “At least I hope so.”

“Why are you so good to me? To us?” he asked, placing a hand on hers over the car door.

“I’ve waited for you my whole life… we all have,” she explained, her voice heavy with unshed tears. “Could I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.” You smiled at Michael’s words.

“When you speak to your father… could you maybe, put in a good word for me?” she sniffled. “When I get to hell, I wanna be in the lowest circle.”

“Circle?” Michael inquired.

“However it’s structured. I wanna be in the worst part- or the best part… I wanna burn in blistering heat and fire, for all eternity, in service,” she smiled, a few tears dripping from her eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Michael grinned, “okay?”

“Okay,” Madelyn replied, her tone much giddier than it had just been. Michael stood up with a final smile, and returned to your side, grabbing your hand. The two of you began to walk up the path before a sudden shout startled you. “Hail Satan!” Michael turned around swiftly, holding a finger up to his mouth, to shush Madelyn playfully.

You shook your head with a gentle smile as the two of you continued to smile. “I’ll miss her,” Michael sighed, squeezing your hand.

“I know, babe.” You brought the back of his hand up to your lips and gave it a gentle kiss before you were entering the building.

You followed Michael while he led you through the twists and turns of the building, as though he knew where he was going. You didn’t doubt it, he had done the same thing at the Ritz, but it still amazed you. The halls were nearly void of people as you walked, until finally, you came to a desk. A lady, dressed in a purple blazer and pencil skirt, stood behind the counter with a package in her hands. She looked up at the sound of your footsteps, a deep frown settling on her face.

“Are you lost?” she spoke immediately, adjusting her grip on the package.

“I’m Michael Langdon. I spoke on the phone with a man named Mutt, about a meeting,” Michael spoke, giving the woman a challenging stare.

“Hm, yes. I’ll go inform him you’re here,” she said, glancing over at you momentarily, before spinning on her heel and leaving the room. There was only one chair in the hallway, so you figured that you and Michael would just stand there patiently.

But, patience wasn’t Michael’s forte. He tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the chair where he sat down. Before you could question his motive, he was grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you down onto his lap. You grunted in surprise, gripping onto his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall off. Michael draped his jacket over the arm of the chair, before he adjusted his grip around you, and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“How ya feeling, babe?” he asked, kissing the underside of your jaw as he spoke.

“Alright. I hope things go according to plan this time,” you grumbled, shooting him a warning look. Michael simply gave you a cheeky grin and kissed the base of your throat. “No, stop that,” you giggled, half-heartedly pushing his head away.

A clearing of someone's throat caused the two of you to look up, seeing the lady in purple stood before you. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Langdon. However, escorts are not permitted upstairs without Jeff or Mutt’s seal of approval.” Michael looked startled at the woman’s words, but you simply laughed bitterly.

“Escort? Really?” you scoffed, removing yourself from Michael’s lap. You walked over to the lady, subconsciously sizing her up despite her height. “I’m not his fucking escort, ma’am. I’m his girlfriend.” Michael stood up quickly, feeling his skin beginning to freeze, and came to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and away from the woman.

“(Y/N) is the only person I trust. She comes with,” he said, his voice not holding any room for argument. The woman gave you a careful up-and-down, before nodding.

“Very well. Right this way then,” she said, turning away from the two of you and walking down the hall. Michael kissed your shoulder once she had turned, feeling his temperature slowly returning to normal.

As the two of you exited the elevator, onto the private floor, you couldn’t but marvel at the simplicity of it. Pipes protruded from the ceiling, and the walls were plain, bare cement. The door at the end of the hall that you and Michael came to, was guarded by a simple lock, that turned green the second Michael’s hand touched the door. However, as soon as you walked through the door, you finally saw the craziness of Silicon Valley, shoved into one room. Behind a glass wall were two men and a woman, all of them staring at you expectantly.

“Dude!” one of them, the brown-haired one, said as you and Michael walked into the room. “What’s up? Come on in,” he chuckled nervously. “Dying to meet you. Madelyn’s really been talking you up. That lady is wacked, right?” He shared a forced laugh with the blond beside him. “But she seems totally convinced that you’re the one.”

“No offense, but I thought you’d be a little more jacked- like, I was picturing you totally ripped like-like The Rock, when he was The Rock,” the blond said, vaguely motioning to his own body. You and Michael both stayed silent as you walked around the room, Michael inspecting each of the robotic items while you kept your hands in your pockets, sticking close.

“No, no that’s like stereotypical dude-”

“What do you mean?”

“-yeah, that’s not cool,” the brunette winced, shaking his head at the blond. “Ah… what’s your name again?” he said, looking at you and Michael with furrowed brows.

“Michael. Langdon.”

“(Y/N),” you offered simply, keeping your face void of how you really felt about the situation.

“Michael Langdon. Hey, you gotta admit, that’s a little weak, right?” the brunette laughed, followed by the blond, completely ignoring you.

“Shouldn’t you be Beelzebub or some shit like that?” the blond laughed, and you could feel your temperature rising. Instantly, you removed your hands from your pockets and took a step in front of Michael. “Old Scratch?” the blond laughed. Michael clenched his jaw before he turned, snatching your hand and beginning to drag you out of the room.

Instantly, a chanting chorus of ‘oh dude’, ‘woah’, ‘no’, and ‘hey’ filled the room, the boy’s frantic voices reaching your ears. You and Michael stopped, turning to look at them suspiciously.

“We-we believe you! You know, I thought I’d be like, pissing my pants or something… and, I am dry as the Sahara, bro.” You winced at the brunette’s desperate attempt to bring Michael back. But it worked, because Michael was letting go of your hand, and slowly walking back into the room.

“You’ve gotta look at it from our shoes, bro. I mean, how do we know you’re the Antichrist?” the blond said, shrugging his shoulders as the brunette agreed.

“Fucking hell, not again,” you groaned quietly, tossing your head back in frustration. You ran your hands through your hair, tugging at the strands, before following Michael further into the room, but keeping your distance. He walked to the center of the room and hesitantly lifted his hair, no doubt revealing his scar to the boys.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s cool, but it’s just a tattoo on your scalp,” the brunette said, and you knew where this was going. You looked at Michael, giving him a warning look and a shake of your head.

“No,” the girl, who had been just as silent as you the whole time, finally spoke. “It’s true, I can feel the darkness. It’s making me sick, and it’s coming from him!” she yelled, before suddenly making a run for the door. You watched her and then watched as Michael’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. The girl suddenly screamed in agony, and you turned to see her body alight in bright, orange flames.

“Holy shit!” Both boys shouted as the girl disappeared into a pile of ash. Michael rolled his head and the lights flickered before he looked over to the boys. You couldn’t see what was happening, but by the terror that filled their faces, you could only imagine. Instantly, they fell to their knees, their chants of ‘Hail Satan’ filling your ears.

“You fucking ass,” you hissed, turning your back on Michael.

Walking out of the private room and stalking down the hallway, you came to a stop by the elevator. You couldn’t get down without a password, and you had nowhere to go even if you did. So, you were stranded in the hallway with your anger. You couldn’t believe Michael had done this, once again. You couldn’t believe you had allowed the boys to talk him into killing that girl. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t done anything to stop him. You just stood there like a goddamn pole and watched. You could feel tears of anger wanting to form in your eyes, but the sound of the door opening forced you to keep them at bay.

You blinked hastily and looked over, seeing the blond boy exiting. He wasn’t with Michael or the brunette, but he did have his attention focused on you. You gave him a raised eyebrow as he came to a stop beside you, and he smiled down at you cheekily. “I’m Jeff. The other one is Mutt. I never got to formally introduce myself,” he explained, holding out his hand. You simply looked at his outstretched hand, before back at him.

“Jeff and Mutt? Like the comic?” Jeff grinned excitedly at your words, retracting his untouched hand.

“Yeah, exactly! Pretty rad, huh?”

“Not as rad as ‘Michael Langdon’, but whatever,” you shrugged, turning to look back at the elevator.

“Hey uh… what exactly are you to him, by the way?” Jeff asked, taking a dangerous step forward. You turned back to him, eyeing him up-and-down in distaste. “You his side-chick or something? Because lemme tell ya, sweets, I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, fully turning your body towards him with a look of shock.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot as fuck. I would kill to base one of my VR’s after a night with you. I can only dream of what those lips can do, baby,” Jeff whispered, taking a few steps closer, and cornering you against the elevator. As he spoke, he brought his hand up to your mouth, running a finger over your lips.

“You have five seconds to step away from me before I break your fucking neck,” you snapped, glaring at him dangerously.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Jeff pouted, but removed his hand nonetheless. “I’m just saying, I could show you a good time, and in return, you could show my clients a good time- virtually, that is. I'd pay a lot, and that way, you wouldn’t have to be Michael’s bitch anymore.”

“She isn’t my bitch.” You looked up at the sharp voice of Michael, startled to suddenly see him and Mutt standing behind Jeff.

Said-blond turned around, looking up at Michael in confusion. “Hey, man, listen. Whatever she is- side-chick, hook up, call girl, whatever, I don’t care. We can share her, you know, like you-”

Before Jeff could finish his sentence, Michael was grabbing ahold of his hair and slamming him into the wall beside you. You jumped slightly at the impact, while Jeff limply slid down the wall, holding onto his head in pain. Michael reached forward and grabbed your wrist, harshly yanking you towards him. You didn’t have time to protest, to tell him you were pissed off, before he was kissing you roughly, his hands gripping your sides. You submitted to the kiss, whimpering softly as Michael accidentally bit your lip, blood pooling into both of your mouths. He pulled back at the taste, blinking at you momentarily, before turning to Jeff and Mutt.

“(Y/N) is not my bitch, and she is not my side-anything. She is my girlfriend and the love of my life. She is mine. You will not touch her. You will not talk to her. You will not look at her, or I will burn you to ash. Is that understood?” Weakly, both boys nodded, before Mutt reached over and quickly put in the password for the elevator.

“We’ve uh… we have a hotel set up for you. Jeff and I will meet you at the courtyard in a few minutes, once I’ve got his head on right,” Mutt said distractedly, kneeling beside his brother. The elevator dinged its arrival at the end of Mutt’s sentence, and before you could say anything, Michael was herding you inside.

Once the elevator door shut, and Michael had clicked the button for the bottom floor, you turned on him in anger. “What the fuck was that!” you yelled, shoving at his chest.

“Which part,” he grumbled, already preparing for your onslaught.

“All of it! You didn’t have to kill that fucking girl, Michael! You didn’t have to throw Jeff against the wall! You didn’t have to do any of that bullshit!”

Michael turned to you quickly, but you didn’t flinch away. “Yes, sweetheart, I did. If I didn’t kill her, they wouldn’t have known who I was. If I had let the blond-headed asshole touch you the way he was, I would’ve lost you. I understand that you’re mad, but I had to.” Michael was glaring down at you, the same way you were glaring up at him.

“No. Fuck you, Langdon.” The elevator dinged, opening up to the main floor, and you instantly walked out. “I’m done. I’m done.” You hastily walked down the hallway, trying your best to ignore Michael’s shouts for you. “Don’t follow me,” you added, briefly turning around to find Michael already at your heels.

“Don’t leave…” his voice was small, despite his show of dominance from seconds before.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I need to be alone right now,” you huffed, not sparing Michael a second glance as you walked out of the building.

Your fight with Michael had been hours ago. Now, you were walking around San Francisco's Bay Area in the dead of night, utterly lost. You had ditched your phone in the woods, so you had no way of Google Mapping your way to the hotel you were supposedly staying at. And nobody around you wanted to stop and offer a couple of directions. A part of you wanted to borrow a phone and call Michael; to tell him you were in trouble and needed help. But that would mean defeat and accepting his apology.

Were you about to do that? Fuck no.

Instead, you sucked it up and shouldered past a few people, turning around in a desperate attempt to retrace your steps. Shouldn’t be too hard. A couple of rights here, a few lefts there, that’s all it really was. Except, you weren’t in New Orleans anymore. You didn’t have the safety of your coven a few miles away. You couldn’t close your eyes and mentally call out for your mom. You were alone, in another state, with nothing but the clothes on your back. But it was fine. You were strong, you were invincible, you were (Y/F/N). You could do anything. Getting back to Silicon Valley was going to be a piece of cake.

Getting back to Silicon Valley ended up being a burnt piece of steak.

You had no idea what part of San Francisco you were even in, anymore. You could be in Silicon Valley, you could be in Napa, you could be in San Jose. Hell, you could be in L.A for all you knew. What you did know, was that it was cold, and it was dark, and you were seconds away from bursting into tears and screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” you grumbled to yourself, rubbing the sleeves of your leather jacket to try and warm yourself up. California was supposed to be hot. You were supposed to be hot. So what was with this cold bullshit?

Just as you were about to duck into an alleyway and call it quits, a car swerved onto the sidewalk beside you. Looking up, you were surprised to see a black Porsche Boxster on the empty street. Sat inside was Michael, looking almost as terrible as you.

“Nice car,” you mumbled, slowly walking up to the passenger door.

Michael’s face was hard, his jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “In. Now.”

This was one of those rare times you actually listened to Michael, without so much as a glare. As soon as the words left his mouth, you were jumping over the door, and settling yourself into the passenger seat. Michael sped off instantly before you could even buckle up. He was white-knuckling the steering wheel, and you didn’t have the balls to even turn on the radio. You’d rather bask in the awkward silence and the car’s brilliant heat.

After an hour of driving in silence, you couldn’t take it anymore. “How did you find me?”

“Same way I’ve found you in the past. Followed the feeling.”

“That’s creepy you know.”

“Would you rather me have left you there? On the streets, in the cold, alone?” Michael’s tone was challenging, but you knew he wouldn’t have done that.

“...No,” you answered regardless.

“Why’d you run away like that?” he asked, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I told you, I needed time alone. I was mad at what you’d done,” you explained softly, shrinking in the seat.

“So you just left town? Like an idiot?”

“Oh fuck you, I’m anything but an idiot,” you snapped, instantly sitting up. Michael pulled into a hotel parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to look at you.

“No, (Y/N), that’s exactly what you are. You’re in a state you’ve never been to before. You’ve been excommunicated from your coven. From your family-”

“Don’t fucking remind me.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me that way.” You and Michael stared one another down before he was opening the door and getting out of the car, his face dark. “Out.”

“Or what? You’ll leave me out here, alone?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and slumping back in the seat. There was absolutely no reason for you to be this difficult, just like usual, but you couldn’t help it. He was being infuriating.

Michael slammed his door shut, and walked around to the passenger side. “You know what? Fine. You wanna be a stubborn, insufferable, fucking brat, then go ahead. Stay out here in the cold, on your own. Whenever you feel like growing up, I’ll be in room 506,” Michael snarled, his voice filled with anger. He left you after that, the keys to the car shoved in his pocket, before disappearing through the hotel doors.

You’d fucked up. Wholeheartedly, without a doubt, fucked up. Michael had never gotten mad at you before, not like this. But he was right. You were being childish, and stubborn, and everything in between. So, after half-an-hour of brooding in silence, you jumped out of the car, and made your way inside the hotel, to room 506. You didn’t even get a chance to knock on the door before Michael was opening it, staring down at you with bloodshot eyes. He moved away from the door, allowing you to come in, and sat himself down on the edge of the bed. Silently, you kicked off your shoes and shed your jacket, walking over to him. Michael looked up at you, tears slowly falling from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to run a hand through his tangled hair. It had been so perfect this morning. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”

Michael shook his head. He reached up and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, pulling you down onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. He held you close, hiding his face in your neck while he steadied his emotions. “I’m sorry, too,” he sniffled after a few moments. “I shouldn’t have killed that girl, and I shouldn’t have hurt Jeff.”

“I forgive you,” you said softly, moving his face away from your neck.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down and kissed him, tears from both of you falling between your lips. Michael whimpered and tightened his hold on your waist as he moved his lips against your own. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging on the occasional strand as you did so. “Michael,” you whined quietly, as he trailed his lips from the corner of your mouth to your jawline. His hands snuck their way up your shirt, splaying across your hips, and gripping tightly. He bit and sucked his way down your neck, leaving a myriad of marks on his way.

“I need you,” he whispered, pulling away from your skin so he could look into your (e/c) eyes. “I thought I lost you tonight…”

“You already have me, Michael.” Reaching down, you lifted the hem of your shirt and removed it, tossing the fabric to the side.

Michael hesitantly moved his gaze from your eyes to your chest, running his hands up your stomach carefully. He was testing the waters and you let him, encouraging him by carding your fingers through his hair. Gently, Michael grabbed onto your breasts, briefly looking up for your conformational nod, before ducking his head and kissing his way down. Reaching around you, he unclasped your bra, his mouth still attached to the top of your tit as he did so. Slowly, he let the straps fall from your shoulders until you had to lean back so it could be removed all the way. He cupped the underside of your boobs, instantly pulling a nipple into his mouth, earning a startled gasp from you as he swirled his tongue around the perked nub. With his free hand, he tweaked your other nipple, switching sides every so often. You arched your back into his touch, biting on your lip harshly to refrain from whimpering out loud. You gripped onto his shoulders, while your hips grinded onto his lap subconsciously. Michael pulled away after your breasts were bruised to his liking, and began undoing his own shirt, tossing it into the pile with yours. While Michael was busy undressing, you continued your ministrations against his lap, until he was done.

Grabbing onto your waist, Michael managed to pick you up, and placed you down on the center of the bed, hovering over you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered, his voice thick with underlying lust.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nodded. You leaned up and kissed him, giving Michael all the proof he needed to continue.

After pulling away, he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your thighs, tossing them to the pile. Crawling back up the bed, Michael attached his lips to your neck once again, but this time, his fingers slowly trailed down your abdomen, and to your panty line. He hesitated only a moment, before dragging his finger over the wet slit of your underwear. Instantly, you bucked into his touch, blushing at your wanton movements. Michael’s touch was light and teasing, just barely ghosting over the area where your clit was. You were forced to buck your hips into his hand to get any form of friction, but Michael wasn’t giving in.

“Please, Michael,” you whimpered after too long of his teasing.

“Please what?” he mused, kissing at your neck lazily.

“You know what.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” he hummed, his voice vibrating up your throat.

“Please touch me,” you caved, bucking your hips for emphasis. Michael grinned before pressing his thumb down, rubbing harshly at your clit through your underwear. “Ah, shit!” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulder blades at the sudden touch.

Michael continued to rub at your clit and kiss your neck, occasionally leaning down to gently kiss your abused breasts. But soon, he had enough. He leaned back, grinning devilishly at the needy whine that escaped your lips. He unbuttoned and removed his own pants, followed by his underwear, before bending down and slowly removing your underwear. You bent your legs, making it easier for him to do so, blushing deeply as Michael expertly tossed the used garment onto the doorknob of your hotel room. Gripping your thighs, he spread your legs apart for him, ducking his head between them. You knew what was coming, but you still weren’t prepared for the hot feeling of his tongue against your slit. You gasped in pleasure, moving your hands to grip at his hair, as Michael ran his tongue up and down your slit. While Michael pressed his tongue against your clit, he carefully inserted two fingers into your wet hole, taking satisfaction in the breathy moan you gave him. He worked his fingers inside you, wiggling them around until your hips jumped and you were crying out. Pressing against the bundle of nerves he had finally found, Michael slowly pushed in a third finger, looking up at you to make sure you weren’t hurting.

You had your eyes shut, and your hands tangled in his hair, tugging whenever he managed to hit that spot again. Finally, after a while of preparing you, Michael pulled away. You looked down at him between your shaking thighs, betrayal evident on your face. Michael couldn’t help the laugh that ripped through him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled, crawling back up to give you a kiss. You hummed softly, not minding the taste of yourself on his lips, before he was retreating again. “You ready?”

“We don’t have a condom,” you whispered, even as you lifted your hips to rub against his cock.

“I’ll pull out, I promise,” Michael said, moving a stray piece of hair out of your face. You thought for a moment, before nodding, widening your legs. With a heavy breath, Michael guided himself inside of you, taking it one inch at a time. You squeezed your eyes shut at the brief pain, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. Michael allowed you to take refuge in his neck, murmuring softly into your ear while slowly sheathing himself fulling inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling Michael’s full length inside you.

“You okay?” he asked, willing his hips not to move.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” you nodded, your voice cracking slightly. “Go ahead, I’m alright,” you assured, wrapping your legs around his waist. Michael smiled and leaned down to kiss you once more. He began moving once he did, drowning out both your moans and cries with his lips. Your nails dragged down his shoulders, no doubt leaving bright red marks, as Michael thrust deep inside you. He kept his hold on your hips gentle, rubbing soothing circles into the bruises he had accidentally left earlier.

“Fuck, baby,” Michael moaned, pulling back from the kiss to toss his head back. You leaned up, kissing at his exposed throat. Michael’s hips stuttered as you bit down, sucking on the skin as a form of payback. When you pulled back, Michael grabbed your hands, placing them beside your head. He entwined your fingers while picking up the pace of his thrusts. “(Y/N).”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, moving your legs higher on his waist, and gripping his hands tightly. Michael bowed his head, his damp hair dangling over your chest, as he panted desperately, the new angle causing the two of you to cry out in pleasure. “I’m c-close.”

“Cum,” Michael demanded softly, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. “Cum for me, (Y/N).”

Your hips bucked and your thighs tightened around his waist, while your back arched into his chest. “Michael!” you screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard you. You felt the familiar heat of your orgasm untangle in your abdomen, while you cried out in blinding pleasure as you came.

“Fuck!” Michael grunted, his thrusts losing their pattern as he neared his edge. Michael didn’t want to finish this soon, but seeing your blissed-out look, tits pressed against his chest, thighs squeezing his waist, and having your inner walls clamped around him, he didn’t have much of a choice. With a reluctant hiss, Michael pulled out of you, and grabbed his cock, having the intent of jacking off his release.

But then you were removing your legs with a whimper, and weakly pressing against his shoulders. Michael looked at you in concern, thinking you were suddenly hurt, but then he saw that your attention was entirely on his erected dick. He let you push him to the side, so that he was now on his back, while you kneeled beside him. Before Michael could ask if you were sure, your lips were closing around the head of his cock, and your tongue was dragging itself along a particular vein.

“Christ!” Michael yelled, and you almost stopped at his rare usage of the holy word.

But you continued with even more determination, even as Michael grabbed your hair in his hands, forming a makeshift ponytail. You used the leverage to swallow him further until his head was hitting the back of your throat. A moan rumbled its way through your mouth, but all that managed to do was push Michael over the edge. Without warning, he was cumming, and you easily swallowed it all despite the horrible taste. After sucking his cock for a few more seconds, guaranteeing he was dry, you pulled off with an obscene pop. You looked up at Michael with a smirk, licking the corner of your lips for any mess. Michael stared at you, his chest heaving, before he reached down and grabbed you, pulling you up to the pillows with him. He maneuvered the two of you under the blankets, making it more difficult than it needed to be since he didn’t want to let go of you. But, once you were both settled underneath, he was holding you close with a content smile.

“I love you,” he whispered, his arms wrapped entirely around your waist, with your face pressed against his chest. “You did amazing, babygirl.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry we’ve fought so much lately,” you hummed, kissing his chest and smiling at his praise.

“It’s alright, baby. It’s all gonna be alright.” Michael’s words were soft and soothing, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep in his arms, with the morning sun shining over the two of you.

Michael Langdon 18 Months Taglist (OPEN): @omg-luv4lyfe-universe @hesvoid34 @winchesterbloodxxxx @justanotherdaydreamersoul @frozenhuntress67 @michaels-slut @buckynatlarry @sweetcredence @crybabycth @very-aesthetic-pineapple @rainbowxmisa @xbutterflykisses78x @sherlokid7 @hexqueensupreme @kaliforniacoastalteens @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @madhatterweasley @skullchik89 @assgardiangoddess @booyouwhoreee @kerouacsroad @moonagecordelia @valentinevirgo @aliahemmings97 @becca-in-outer-space @supersoldierballerina @quione3 @hxdesworld @multi-madison @lanijoyxo @bookwormstrawberry @killcort @shado-cat @heartjuliehart @alex--awesome--22 @scarletraine @x-idontknow-x @ourcielapologist @queenie435 @meeeeeeeeeps @goofyredpanda @naughtykpopthoughtz @daydreamin1220 @thewritten-angel @kayylluhh @x-i-a-t @howaboutanap @sidemans @divinelavellan @callbellaforagoodtime @bara-rose-would @geminiogy @la-gordita-mas-bonita @vampires0 @msjamesmarch @fand0msgal0re @saddbxtchh @nerdyalienhybrid @weeabootie @vikingsimaginesandthangs @sexxxychiq @al-chanyeol-mae @thatbatshitcrazyfangirl @helenaway-07 @baldenki @michael-langdxn @kickasskittie23 @samm-nicoleee18 @r3beltothesystem @misanthropegal @zrozenazchaosu @agb-random @whileinparis @thestylestour @leximills666 @pinkhappypanda @winterofherdiscontent @ivyxchaplin @mysticalavengers @the-captain-kidd @m-i-a-m-c-d-e-e @amarokofficial @thecrystalwitches @grippleback-galaxy @14-bees @evanpeters3826 @justatadbonkers @ghastlybespook @leasly @kezzasaurus-rex @lostsomewhere93 @langdonfern @absnicole

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #ahs #american horror story imagine #ahs imagine #american horror story x reader #ahs x reader #18 months #please show up in the tags #michael langdon smut

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athousandroadstonowhere · 4 years

Text

Entering New Orleans

New Orleans. Nestled between banks of Lake Pontchartrain and the mouth of the Mighty Mississippi, with the rural bayou just a few miles away, lies a city with over 300 years of history. The drive there alone is breathtaking. Even in the winter, crossing the bridges through the wetlands of Manchac is a journey to what feels like another world. Houses float above the water on stilts as vines and trees swoop down to kiss the marshes. The barrenness of winter reveals the branches as the veins that hold the lives of the wildlife. While wandering down 55, I couldn’t help but wonder what it will look like in the spring. I’m going to have to make the journey back there soon, just so I can cross that bridge when everything is green.

Pulling into the city is a bit different. I was expecting something larger. Having never actually been there, and only seen New Orleans from TV news reports and various articles, I somehow expected it to be the sprawling expanse that is the other large cities I have visited. I was surprised by how actually small it seemed compared to other places I’ve visited. Just a few exits off of some winding ramps, and I had made it to the Garden District. When I was on my way there, I wondered why it was called that. As I pulled onto St. Charles to find the side street to my friend’s home, I learned. Because it is so close to the ocean, even in the winter when the bayou trees are barren, the trees in the Garden District were very much still green. And the vines. There seem to be vines everywhere. Climbing cemetery walls, overtaking trees, and neatly trimmed so as not to overtake the roadways or the tracks of the streetcar, the vines seemed in love with everything they embrace. I was impressed by the architecture. I was also surprised. Many of the homes seemed really really old. And the designs were so eclectic. Next door to an ornate french colonial home you will find a house with obvious Spanish arches, followed by a home with almost German-style awnings and brick. It’s like all of the great builders in the world got together and decided to make their mark in the same neighborhood. Having watched Hurricane Katrina make her mark on the city on television, I half expected only new buildings. Seeing these massive homes and businesses that have survived wars, hurricanes, and all sorts of misadventures and misfortune that go along with being a Port City in the Southern United States, these homes spoke to my soul of resilience, of the ability to stand firm in a place and be rebuilt and repaired no matter what life throws at them.

I parked on the street where my friend lives, and wandered up to St. Charles.

Another fun thing I saw while wandering on foot was a cemetery. I don’t remember why, but you can’t bury people underground in New Orleans. Because of this, the cemeteries are filled with miniature mausoleums to house the dead. The Garden district is home to Lafayette Cemetery 1. Though the cemetery was actually closed, just walking around the crumbling walls along the sidewalks that have been known to bite, and peeking in through the gates, it feels as if you’re walking amongst history. I could hear stories of lives being told as wind blew through the vines on the walls.

To be continued......

#neworleans cemeteries writing adventures

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gleekto · 5 years

Text

All In the Past (4/14)

Prompt: You were the bane of my existence in high school but now we’re going to college together AU

Cheerio!Kurt/ Jock-Football!Blaine

Summary: Kurt Hummel is tolerating his senior year of high school. He’s head cheerio, which affords him some protection from the hamhock bullies who ruined his designer knock offs in his first few years. He can manage his one last year with that new charming transfer student, Blaine Anderson. swooping into his school, rising to popularity, and completely ignoring him. Next year he’ll be free from a world where everyone is afraid of the gay kid.

He just didn’t expect Blaine Anderson to swoop into his college world too.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4 - Throne

NYU. Finally. Kurt is out of Lima, Ohio and in New York, New York. He’s had two weeks of choosing his classes (Art history 101, Introduction to queer literature, and Intermediate French to start off), settling into dorm living (The cafeteria mac n’ cheese may more resemble a soup than a pasta but at least he has a single room), and joining clubs. He can finally sing in the show choir he avoided in high school, and yes, he obviously joined the LBGT students’ association. Two weeks of not being the only gay kid in the school, or the state. Being in a city where gay is so ordinary, it’s boring. Bring on boring. He’s worn his black combat boots with tight jeans and a matching scarf twice and no one has so much as turned their head, let alone bullied him. It’s almost disappointing. Almost.

Speaking of boring, Kurt can’t believe he has to spend the next three hours of his free afternoon training to staff the LBGT students’ office. They like to make sure they’re open every weekday of every week and they try to recruit as many new warm bodies as they can to make sure it happens. You never know when a teary freshman might have a revelation from last night’s drunken party that yes, she kissed a girl. And she liked it. They work in pairs for safety reasons but today it’s going to be Larissa, the Master’s student who runs the joint, and Matt, the senior vice president, both training him, as well as the kids on shift. Practically a party.

Larissa and Matt are there when he arrives five minutes early (you never get a second chance to make a first impression) - and ready to learn the secrets of the mid-size rainbow coloured office on the third floor of the NYU student centre.

“So this is our comfy couch,” Larissa points to the obviously well-loved beaten soft green sofa at the back of the room.

“The throne of the student union, really. Perfect for anyone who needs to come in to vent or talk or anything else” Matt adds. Did he really say that? Maybe Kurt should get his head out of the proverbial gutter. Living through high school in Lima, Ohio can do that to a lonely gay kid. Kurt takes off his coat and Matt motions for him to pile it on theirs at the edge of the couch.

“Hi, Larissa?” Kurt hears a strangely familiar voice entering the office behind him. “I’m Blaine. Here for my volunteer hours.” Kurt turns around and freezes.

Blaine Anderson is standing in the doorway in a grey fall pea coat with a tan satchel flung over his shoulder. His hair is gelled down and his cheeks are pink and happy. Blaine Anderson. What the actual fuck.

“Are you kidding me?” He says out loud.

“Kurt!” At least Blaine seems equally shell shocked. “Oh my God.”

“I think I should be saying ‘Oh My God’ to you.” How can Blaine be here? In New York. At his school. In his world. No.

“You know each other?” Larissa looks back and forth between them.

“I didn’t know you were going to NYU,” Blaine says as if that’s an explanation.

Kurt can feel the daggers shooting out of his own eyes. “You never asked.” There’s a loaded pause but Kurt takes his turn. “I didn’t know you were such a good ally,” He drawls. If Blaine’s presence for his ‘office hours’ means what he thinks it means, there is no way he’s going to make this easy for him. Not after a full year of ignoring the gay kid. “Volunteering with us queer kids, and all.”

“Kurt, I-” Blaine starts but his shoulders drop and he looks down so Kurt continues.

“Does Rachel know because maybe the two of you could volunteer together. I hear her dads have always supported campus groups-”

“Kurt,” Blaine tries to stop him and the not so subtle animosity radiating off of him. “I’m,” Blaine starts again, all eyes on this strange showdown. “I’m gay.”

“Really?” Kurt pauses. Let’s it simmer in the heavy air. He can almost taste the sarcasm dripping from his own lips. “And you never told me.” Kurt crosses his arms.

“You never asked,” Blaine half smirks.

“Excuse me, Larissa, Matt,” Kurt turns sharply to each of them. “We’re going to have to reschedule.” He grabs his jacket, turns on his heel, and exits.

Fuck that guy.

#gleekto writes #all in the past

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lespetitesmortsde · 5 years

Note

can you please continue the super hero bechloe AU? it's amazing

Unknown number: Did you get home okay?

Chloe: New phone who dis?

Beca: Come on, Zip, let’s not make this weird.

Chloe: Ok, y u gotta b rude w/ Zippo?

Beca: Oh my God, is that seriously how you text?

Chloe: mayb. Y? bother u?

Beca: Yes.

Chloe: Fine, I can text like it’s going to be included in an honours thesis. It’s more boring, but whatever. Your loss.

Beca: Thank you.

Beca: You never answered my question.

Chloe: Yes, Becs, I got home just fine. You?

Beca: Yeah, didn’t run into any midnight criminals, so that’s always nice.

Chloe: So when can I see you again?

Beca: Aren’t you supposed to wait like three days before asking that so you don’t seem desperate?

Chloe: I don’t like to wait. If I know what I want, I go after it. Waiting for some dumb societal unwritten code doesn’t fly with me.

Beca: Fair enough.

Beca: Saturday? I have an idea.

Chloe: Me too. Yours involve handcuffs too?

Beca: NO!

Chloe: Lame.

Beca: Just, meet me at the fifth avenue and fifty-third street station?

Chloe: Sure thing. When?

Beca: One?

Chloe: Do I get to know what we’re doing?

Beca: No, but dress casually.

Chloe: Already dictating my wardrobe eh?

Beca: What?!

Chloe: Ne fret pas. I like it.

Beca: You speak French?

Chloe: Maybe.

Beca: …

Beca: That’s hot.

Chloe: I know ;) See you Saturday.

Beca: See you, Chlo.

Beca: Chloe*.

Chloe: It’s cute when you call me Chlo, I don’t mind.

Beca: Okay, Chlo, go to bed.

Chlo: Night!

Beca: Night.

Saturday

Beca taps her foot as she leans against the outside station wall. She has her headphones on, listening to the last mix she finished two days ago. She’s thinking about trying to mash together “Swimming Pools” by Kendrick Lamar and “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons. The juxtaposition should work well enough, and if she has to add a couple of samples it might work even better.

She writes down a note on her phone with her thoughts on the new mix and then someone taps her shoulder. Beca turns to see Chloe smiling widely at her. Chloe gives her a wave before Beca realizes she should pause her music and slip her headphones around her neck.

“Hey,” Beca says, adjusting her messenger bag.

“So where are we going?” Chloe asks, completely bypassing the pleasantries. She takes Beca’s arm and waits for her to lead them somewhere.

“You’ll find out soon. We’re not far,” Beca tries not to look around and see if anyone’s looking at them. She takes Chloe west along fifty-third street. It only takes a few steps before Chloe guesses their destination.

“We’re going to the MoMA?” Chloe asks, no longer letting Beca pull her. Instead she keeps pace now that she knows where to go.

“Yeah. You seem like you’d be into modern art. Plus I like it. It’s kind of quietly creative, nice and low-key.”

Chloe heads to the main entrance, but Beca gently pulls on her arm, redirecting them. Chloe shoots Beca a confused look, but Beca just smiles and shakes her head. They walk down the side of the building until they come to a fire exit and Beca knocks on the door. She raps five times, then seven, then five again before pulling back and waiting.

To Chloe’s unasked question, Beca answers, “He likes haikus. I don’t question it.” Chloe nods like she too wants someone to knock out a haiku on her door.

It takes almost a full minute, but eventually the door opens to reveal a rather stony-faced man in a security uniform. His eyes meet Chloe’s, widening a little in surprise, before settling on Beca. The two of them stare at each other unblinkingly for a moment before Chloe can see Beca’s lips start to break into a grin.

“Aha!” the man says, grinning widely. “I win!”

Beca rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly pleased. “Hi Hank,” she says, settling back on her heels.

“Well, hi, Becs. Long time, no see,” Hank says, leaning against the door and crossing his arms. Beca sighs.

“I know, Hank. I’m sorry it’s been so long. College is crazy,” Beca says. “But, I brought you this,” she adds, pulling out a three-pack of Kinder Surprise Eggs from her pocket.

Hank’s eyes practically glow. He tries to hold his disgruntled stare, but the happiness the Kinder eggs bring is too much. He grins from ear to ear.

“Alright, you little rascal, you and your friend can go on in,” Hank gestures them through the door with his head.

“Thanks, man,” Beca says as she lets Chloe go in first. “I’ll bring you something next time I see you.”

Hank chuckles as he follows them inside. “I’m counting on it.”

Chloe and Beca wander down the hall a little ways leaving Hank when he turns off for the security room.

“Yeah, I don’t think he can actually hear the knocks from in there. I think he just watches on a monitor and assumes I’m doing it right,” Beca comments once he’s out of earshot. They come to a stop in front of a Jackson Pollock painting, and Beca can feel Chloe’s expectant eyes on her.

“What’s up, Zip?” Beca says, already sounding a little monotonous.

“There’s clearly a story there about you and Hank, and you’re just glossing over it!” Chloe seems to quietly explode with the hushed words.

“Okay, and?” Beca asks, drawing out the “a” in and.

“And, you can’t just let that hang in the air,” Chloe explains, as if that solves everything.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s rude.”

“Is that it?”

Chloe’s eyes seem to burn as they bear down into Beca’s. “If you don’t tell me whatever the story is, it’s going to hang over us like the figurative elephant in the room, Becs. It’s going to be our constant companion, this story, because you’ll know what it is, and I’ll know that you don’t want to share yourself with me.”

Chloe straightens suddenly, “And basically our relationship will be doomed from the start, and I don’t want that to happen.”

Beca heard every word, she swears she did, but she gets stuck, “Relationship, eh?”

“Have I not been obvious about my interest?” Chloe asks, somewhat rhetorically. At Beca’s noncommittal shrug, she waves her hands around them to gesture to the museum, “Is this not a date at a museum because you thought I’d like it?”

“Okay, yes, it’s a date!” Beca says defensively, only responding to Chloe’s increasingly agitated, maybe worried, voice. “Clearly I like you, dumbass, I did the whole meeting you for shitty coffee without my disguise thing, remember?”

Now grinning, Chloe says, “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Do you want to have this date, or not?”

Chloe reaches forward to grab Beca’s hand. “Totes!”

Beca just raises an eyebrow at the odd slang.

“But I do want that story, too,” Chloe adds as they begin walking around the first hall.

“Maybe at a later date,” Beca hedges. It’s really not a very interesting story, and she doesn’t want to embarrass herself with her dumbass teenaged shenanigans this early in the game.

“When then?” Chloe asks, relentlessly.

Beca tries to find a good answer in the paint-splattered canvas before her eyes. “I dunno, dude, like if you make it to date seven?” She pulls on Chloe’s hand to shuffle three feet to the next painting, but Chloe doesn’t budge.

“You don’t think I’ll make it my mission to get to date seven just for this story?” Chloe asks.

Sighing deeply, Beca tries to placate Chloe. “I mean, of course you will, so I’ve just guaranteed myself six more dates with you, Zip.” She works hard not to let the tail end of her plan lilt upwards and make it obvious that she’s making this stuff up as she goes.

“I see how it is. You hook them with the intrigue of a secret story, then use it as leverage to secure yourself plenty of dates which just so happen to span longer than your target’s sex rule, thereby making you more desirable and ensuring you get laid all in one fell swoop!” Chloe declares, voice getting noticeably louder as she works up to her finale.

Beca blinks slowly, like she’s trying to take all of that in. “Dude, no. I can barely even follow that.”

Suddenly Chloe’s smiling. “It’s not a bad thing, Becs, you know what you want.”

“But that’s not my—”

“I might even need to steal such a genius plan,” she adds, finally stepping toward Beca so they can continue around the museum.

“Oh my God, why did I bring you here?” Beca whines.

Chloe winks at her and flips her hair dramatically. “Because you like me and I like you and you can’t deny; we’ll be super hot together.”

The way Chloe says it as a statement instead of a suggestion throws Beca off. “We’ll be super hot together?”

“Oh totes, Becs. You’re gorgeous.”

Despite herself, Beca feels herself flush at the compliment. “Oh, um, you too, Zip.”

Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand. “You know, Bec, Zip was a mildly creative nickname back when we were friends—”

“We’re not friends?”

“—But now that we are more than that, I don’t think Zip is really sexy enough to encompass what we’ve got going on here,” Chloe muses, pulling Beca to a stop in front of a collection of variously askew jars.

“What have we got going on here?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Chloe says happily. “What we have here is your classic romantic half-doomed superhero love story.”

The matter of fact way Chloe says it is what gets Beca laughing. A wandering museum-goer gives her a look and Beca straightens up. “Can you not see the humour Santalta imbibed within these angles?” Beca asks, gesturing to the jars in front of her. Beca raises an eyebrow and then looks away, watching from the corner of her eye as the woman looks a bit harder at the piece of art and finally lets out a light chuckle.

Woman forgotten, Beca turns to Chloe again, “That’s not a thing.”

Chloe scoffs. “Aca-scuse me, it most definitely is a thing and it’s happening right here and now between us.”

“What the—what the fuck,” Beca drops her voice to a hush for the last word, “is that?”

“What?” Chloe asks, oblivious.

“What the hell is an ‘aca-scuse me’?”

Surprisingly, where only something very suggestive had gotten the job done before, Chloe blushes.

“Story time!” Beca declares, but her expression turns serious as her body stiffens. Abruptly the tone of their date shifts. “Sirens. Three fire trucks, two ambulances, and at least two police cars.”

“Which way?” Chloe shifts gears as instantaneously as Beca does, already leading them towards the fire exit they came in.

“North, not too far,” Beca surges ahead and opens the door, holding it for Chloe to slip out too. She lets is close behind her and turns briefly to wave goodbye at the surveillance camera. “Bye Hank!”

Then they set off at a run. Two blocks away, Beca dashes down an alley, “Keep going, I’ll meet up with you!” And then she throws a web toward the sky and swings up onto a roof.

Chloe listens, running straight for the sirens that get louder as she gains. A minute later, she hears “Go with it!” and Beca crashes into her, holding on, and swinging Chloe with her up onto another rooftop.

“Should be just on the other side of the building,” Beca says, the two of the moving closer to the opposite edge of the roof. And Chloe isn’t trying to notice things about Beca right now, but she can’t help but admire (and find incredibly sexy) the calm and calculated decisions Beca seems to be making.

Way back in the day, when Spider-Man was basically just a whisper of a nuisance to Chloe and her pals, their whole group questioned Spider-Man’s ability to be a contributing superhero in the city. She could make questionable, even bad calls, and made them fairly often. Regular people would suffer from the consequences of her actions, like when she fought inside convenience stores, destroying thousands of dollars worth of products instead of moving the fight outside. Or ignoring the laws of New York traffic and helping cause accidents and injuries.

Spider-Man disappeared for a while after that, but then she came back and it was like she had undergone some kind of transformation. She almost always made the right call, and that’s about when Chloe and the rest of the team starting dropping in on her calls to try and make friends, or at least an ally.

In Chloe’s case, she’s been more than successful, because right now, yeah, they’re going to try and stop some bad people, but the sexual tension is palpable, sliding across her skin as she leans over the edge to get a better view of the situation, still listening to Beca.

“Looks like armed robbery, multiple injuries and/or casualties,” Beca rattles off, listening intently down below. At least five suspects, all still inside the bank. Estimates are 15 hostages. No location on a getaway vehicle, if there is one.”

Chloe’s awed, “You can hear all that from up here?”

“Not exactly, Red, I don’t have like super hearing or whatever, but I’ve got those spidey senses and it’s more like vibrations in the air that I can feel - words have certain patterns to them, and I can feel the patterns.”

Chloe scoffs, “Sounds like super hearing to me.”

She knows that underneath her mask, Beca’s rolling her eyes.

“We should find a way to sneak in, rescue any hostages we can find, and once we’re in there we can form a better plan as to how we’re going to save the rest and take down the baddies. Any thoughts?”

“Can you sense anything about the layout of the bank?”

“I’m not an X-ray machine,” Beca sighs. “I can hear them talking about it though, seems like they’re also just starting to make a plan, although theirs involves talking to them over the phone and negotiating.

“Seems like there’s a basement. If we can find a way in, we can work from there. They’re talking about the sewer system and trying to get a copy of the blueprints to see if they’re close enough.”

“It’s kinda hot to hear you eavesdrop with the vibrations in the air,” Chloe says offhandedly.

Beca turns to her, and Chloe swears that if the mask weren’t in the way she’d be able to see Beca flush.

“Remember Zip, the kissing comes after the bad guys.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow suggestively and then Beca’s wrapping an arm strongly around Chloe’s waist and once again, Chloe feels like she’s flying. Beca drops them on the roof of the bank’s building and without verbally confirming, Chloe flames up and drops them into the top floor of the accounting firm beside the bank through a vent.

They work their way down through the floors and into the basement. Chloe burns them a tunnel into the bank’s basement, and Beca slips ahead to do her sneaky thing.

She looks around as she goes, noting a lack of bad guys as she scales up the wall and makes her way toward the main atrium of the bank along the ceiling. At the doorway, she can see about a dozen people in the middle of the room with three armed thieves circling them. Two more are behind the tills, one is stuffing money and anything else they can find into a duffel bag. The other is working on the computer.

Beca sinks back away and rejoins Chloe in the basement to fill her in. “The way I see it, we gotta take the gunmen out quietly one by one. The location of the hostages is too visible for us to steal them away in chunks. We gotta eliminate the threats entirely so they can just leave out the front door.”

Chloe nods, “Any suggestions?”

Beca rubs her nose and chin through her mask. “I’ve got one, but it’s pretty dumb.”

“It’s more than I’ve got.”

“If you can cause a distraction, like pretend to be a patron who got lost, that might cause enough of a disturbance for me to sneak into there without being seen. Once I’m in, I can start removing them from the equation one by one, but I’m useless in here and I can’t see another way to get behind the tills.”

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever head,” Chloe says, trailing off.

“I don’t want to put you in danger, Zip.”

“We’re all in danger, Spidey, we just can do something about it,” Chloe responds, and walks past Beca.

Chloe gives herself a pep talk as she approaches the atrium door and then steps through, tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry! I got lost!”

Immediately, the armed men point their weapons at her, the two closest charge towards her and incapacitate her by grabbing onto her arms. Another approaches and puts her wrists into plastic manacles. The two behind the counter look up from their work, but they only briefly look at the commotion before returning their attentions to their tasks.

Beca manages to sneak in along the ceiling as the robbers start interrogating Chloe about where she came from and they start arguing amongst themselves about where she came from. Beca drops behind the man at the computer once the hostage-wrangling men look away from that direction. She gets right behind him and strikes at the point two inches adjacent to the spine at the back of his neck. There are hollow places there that some martial artists call Gall Bladder 20.

He drops almost immediately, the jolt to his brain knocking him out. She catches him and lowers him gently to the floor, and then retreats behind a desk to wait for the opportune time to strike the guy shoving valuables into his bag.

Her moment comes about twenty seconds later as he moves farther to the back of the room. She crawls around another desk and gets behind him, too, as he’s shoving papers off of one desk into his bag. She does the same thing, and with the element of complete stealth, he too falls into her arms before being lowered to the floor.

One of the men circling the hostages and Chloe glances over at the counter just as Beca flattens herself back against the ceiling.

“You alright back there?” he calls out, drawing the attention of the two other men. They all turn to investigate. “Bloody hell,” he says, then he spits on the ground and walks toward the counter.

As Beca watches this all unfold, she tries to think really loudly toward Chloe. They need to eliminate one more before they can take on the last two together, otherwise there are wildcards at play and that’s when hostages get injured. For better or worse, Chloe is stalwartly not looking up towards Beca on the ceiling, refusing to give away her partner’s position.

What she does do however, is melt the plastic around her wrists to free herself, and then she coughs hard enough to draw the attention of the two men around them back to her.

Beca seizes the opportunity to take down the man who’s come to find her, sending him to the floor to join his comrades. And then she traverses the ceiling until she’s right above the man farthest from Chloe.

Without looking at each other, Beca and Chloe both fly into motion. Chloe flames her hand as it comes up to lock around her guy’s wrist, using her other to take the gun from his hands and throw it aside. Beca drops from the ceiling, kicking the gun out of her man’s fingers and jabbing him right in the neck, pinpointing the vagus nerve.

Chloe lands a solid punch on her robber’s neck, leaving an angry burn in his skin to boot.

“Alright everyone, please head outside slowly with your hands up. The cops are out there and they’re going to help you out,” Chloe says as she lets go of the fire and her hands return to normal.

They’re awash in a sea of thank yous for a moment before Beca’s yanking at Chloe’s arm back the way they came in. They head back up to the roof and Beca once more swings them across the alley.

“Not a bad first date, Spidey,” Chloe says as Beca releases her and she finds her feet. Beca peels off her mask and smiles at Chloe.

“You’re the one who said we had to plan for things like this,” Beca reminds her. And then she marches right up to Chloe, takes her face into both hands, and presses her lips solidly against Chloe’s.

Their lips meet each other’s over and over again, growing more lazy and content as the number of kisses increases. When Chloe finally pulls away, her cheeks are red and her eyes are warm as she says, “I think I’m getting hungry.”

Beca nods, “Yeah, sorry, we didn’t get a chance to eat, I swear it was on the list.”

Chloe just smiles lasciviously and with a wink, she says, “Different kind of hungry, Becs, but I’m sure we’ll have time for that later.”

“Christ,” Beca says, and then Chloe’s pulling her along to take the date to a new destination.

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