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pixiegrl · 3 years

Note

hi my love, “I made this for you.” with cake please 💕

Hi sweetheart!!! You had suggested I do this as a paper rings thing bc i said I wanted to write a Cake proposal and I turned this into a 5+1 for different ways that Calum could propose! I hope you like it!!

On ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757919

“Honey, I’m home,” Calum calls as he enters the house. Luke winces when he hears the front door slam, Duke starting to bark loudly at the noise. Petunia is unbothered by the noise, continuing to snore on the couch as Calum tries to shush Duke, making his way through the house to the kitchen.

Luke glances up from where he’s been standing at the sink, cleaning up the dishes from his earlier attempt at making banana bread. Calum’s holding too many Target bags in his hands for the simple trip for groceries that he went on. Luke raises an eyebrow at Calum, giggling when Calum looks away bashfully from Luke’s eyes. Calum peeks over Luke’s shoulder before turning to look at the bread on the cooling rack.

“Ooo, did you make banana bread?”

“Yes, just for you. You wouldn’t stop talking about it and we had bananas that were getting ready to turn anyway so I just used them,” Luke says, turning to Calum, leaning in for a kiss. Calum rolls his eyes, granting Luke a quick kiss on the lips before setting the Target bags down on the counter.

“Well then, I guess you don’t need the sweets I bought from Target,” Calum teases. Luke perks up, hurrying to dry his hands off to see what Calum’s bought. Luke starts rummaging around in the bags, pulling out snack packs of fruits and nuts, chips, dog treats, a little neon heart light he’s bought because it reminded him of Luke, and some fake succulents he’s bought as well.

Calum pulls out two bags of chocolate he’s bought before he grins triumphantly, pulling a pack of cupcakes from another bag. They’re chocolate and vanilla, covered in pink and red frosting, clearly meant for Valentine’s Day. The thing that gets Luke though, is the little plastic rings adorning the cupcakes. They’re big and pink, heart shaped atop the cupcakes. Luke can see the front from here, pretty cursive that says things like I Love You and Be Mine. Luke giggles looking at them, charmed by the sweet, simple nature of them.

Calum grins, popping the lid of the container open, dropping dramatically to one knee and holding out a cupcake to Luke. Luke’s heart starts to pound a little, heart jumping into his throat at the idea of Calum asking Luke to marry him.

“Hey Luke, will you be mine?” Calum giggles, as Luke takes the cupcake from him. Luke doesn’t want to admit that it disappoints him a little, knowing that Calum’s only teasing him. Luke tries to cover it up with a forced smile.

“Are you asking me to marry you with a cupcake ring Cal?” Luke asks, popping the ring off the cupcake and licking the frosting off. Calum laughs, pushing himself from his kneeling position, watching Luke put the ring onto his left ring finger as he peels the wrapping off the cupcake.

“Are you accepting?”

“I don’t think so. You’re a world famous musician. I’m holding out for a better ring,” Luke says airly, trying to cover up his racing heart at the idea that Calum might be asking him to get married for real. Calum hums, leaning down to pick Duke up in his arms, letting Duke lick his face excitedly as he pets him.

“You’re being a diva, Luke. Demanding a nicer ring.”

“I think I’m well within my rights to ask for a nicer ring than a plastic one from a cupcake. We’ve been together for five years. I demand nothing less than a diamond and a proposal of you waxing poetry about your love for me,” Luke teases, licking icing from the cupcake. Calum laughs, swiping some icing from the cupcake and bopping Luke’s nose with it. He goes cross eyed looking at it, trying to wipe his nose off.

“Diva. You just want to be told how much I love you.”

“Is that a crime?”

“It’ll go to your head and you’ll be even worse than you already are.”

Luke rolls his eyes, “See if I share my banana bread with you.”

“See if I share anymore of my cupcakes and rings with you,” Calum shoots back. He sets Duke down on the floor, leaning over to press a kiss to Luke’s cheek and starting to clean the groceries up. Luke doesn’t want to admit he’s a little sad at having only gotten a joking, fake proposal instead of a real one.

***

Luke and Calum are on a mission to clean their house up. Neither of them got the clean genes in the band, but Luke’s trying to turn over a new leaf in the new year. He’s on a kick to deep clean their whole house, despite Calum’s protests for a relaxing Saturday.

“The whole of not being on tour means that we get to relax,” Calum whines from the bedroom. Luke’s tasked him with going through their closet, pulling out things they don’t wear anymore so they can get rid of them. Luke’s in the bathroom, trying to scrub the tile in the shower. He knows he’s picked the more daunting task, scrubbing at it with cleaning powder and a sponge, but Luke’s anxiety has been acting up lately and the methodical, repetitive task is helping put the loop in his head at ease.

“The whole point of being on tour means we’re home now. Which means now we should actually enjoy the home we live in.”

“By cleaning?”

“It’ll help with the vibes.”

“I hate that you’ve said that. I hate even more that I understand what you mean,” Calum calls back. Luke laughs, burying his face into his elbow to muffle some of his laughter. It shouldn’t be as funny as it is. Maybe Luke’s high from the cleaning fumes.

“Oh my god Luke! Guess what I’ve just found,” Calum calls, giddy and laughing. Luke sits back, taking a rest on the soft carpet on the floor and turning around to see Calum rush into the bathroom. He’s holding a small black ring in his fingers, grinning widely, eyes crinkled at the corners. Luke squints, standing up and getting closer to Calum to take a look. Luke raises his eyebrows when he realizes what it is.

“Is that my old lip ring?” Luke asks in wonder as he looks at it. Calum laughs, delighted.

“It is! Good, can you believe I found this? It’s been five years since you’ve worn it at least.”

“I dropped the lip ring for you,” Luke says, grinning.

“I should have said no when you asked me out just for that. I only agreed because you looked sexy with a lip piercing and then you get rid of it a week later.”

“It just didn’t fit my vibe anymore.”

“Might look nice with it again.”

“Please, I’m an adult now. Maybe I’ll get a nose piercing instead. Or my cartilage.”

“Hmmm, you would look hot with a nose piercing. You have the right nose for it,” Calum says, reaching over to bop Luke on the tip of his nose. Luke giggles.

“I’ll keep that in mind for your next birthday gift. Nose piercing.”

“Not your lip again?”

“Calum, if we’ve found a five year old lip ring, I think it’s a sign we need to clean the house more,” Luke says, rolling his eyes. Calum smiles mischievously.

“Luke Hemmings, with this lip ring, will you wed?” He teases, holding the ring out dramatically. Luke ignores the way his heart jackhammers at the sound of Calum proposing to him again. It’s silly and a joke and not real. Even if it thrills Luke to hear Calum say the words, to imagine what it would be like for the proposal to be real.

“Very funny Calum. Are you trying to make up for the plastic heart ring from last time?”

“Well, this one has more sentimental value. Although you did keep that heart ring, I remember,” Calum says. Luke blushes, glancing away. Luke thought he was doing a good job hiding the plastic ring from the cupcake in his nightstand. Clearly, Calum’s caught Luke anyway.

“I will not confirm nor deny the existence of such a ring,” Luke answers breezily, plucking the lip ring from Calum’s hand. Calum laughs, leaning in to kiss Luke gently.

“I’ll take that as a yes to both things,” Calum boosts, calling over his shoulder as he leaves the bathroom.

“I’m not agreeing to anything,” Luke answers. He looks at the ring in his hand. If he stores it in his pocket to add to the ring in his nightstand, well, no one but Luke has to know about that.

***

It’s too warm in the house today. The weather in LA is warming up and while the change is nice, Luke does not appreciate the sudden heat in the house. Luke’s taken to sitting outside in the pool, floating around on the pineapple shaped floatie he bought on a whim. It’s done nothing to cool him down, but it makes him feel nice at least. It’s more fun anyway than sitting out on the deck or sitting instead.

Calum’s gone out to the store again, to buy more snacks and get away from Luke’s whining probably. Luke doesn’t mind either way, taking the time to float around, Petunia and Duke sitting on one of the deck chairs, sleeping soundly. Luke has on Taylor Swift’s album Lover over the little portable speaker they have, feeling soft and warm in his chest today when he woke up to Calum curled into his side. They’d made breakfast together this morning, an excuse really to cuddle against each other in the kitchen, pressed close as they made waffles and coffee, kissing at every opportunity. It’s put Luke in a nice mood for the day, despite the heat and all, and when he’s in a good mood, he likes to put this album on. It makes him think of Calum, all soft pinks and blues, filled with love and warmth and promises of forever.

“Hey, lover boy,” Calum calls from the sliding door leading from the living room to the deck. Luke startles, jumping slightly and overturning the float into the water. Luke resurfaces, spitting out water and pouting as Calum laughs. Calum approaches the edge of the pool, jumping out of the way when Luke tries to splash him. Luke wades over to where Calum’s standing, shopping bag hanging from two fingers, grinning. He leans down, meeting Luke halfway as Luke stands on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Calum’s lips.

“You made me lose my sunglasses.”

“Aw come on now, you’re an Aussie. You can swim for them and everything,” Calum says, kicking off his sandals and putting the bag on the ground, so he can roll the legs of his pants up. Luke sighs heavily, pretending to be put out as he drives down in the pool to grab his sunglasses from where they’re sitting on the floor of the pool. He grabs them, coming up for air and shaking his hair out. Calum cries in mock upset as the water drops hit him, shielding his face from the water. Luke perks up when he notices the box of popsicles poking out of the bag, bright fruity flavored ones. Luke’s weak for them, something Calum clearly knows and is using to his advantage in the face of Luke’s whining about the heat. Calum laughs when he follows the track of Luke’s eyes, ripping the box open as Luke swims over.

“Dry your hands first,” Calum chides, holding out the beach towel resting by the side of the pool. Luke does so, making grabby hands for the popsicle once he’s dry, eagerly ripping open the white plastic, thrilled to find the orange flavored popsicle and licking at it. Calum laughs at Luke’s face, sucking on his own cherry popsicle.

“Thank you,” Luke mumbles around the popsicle in his mouth, words muffled. Calum giggles.

“You’re welcome sweetcheeks. Thought you deserved a treat with how much complaining you’ve been doing.”

Luke huffs, enjoying his popsicles, Taylor Swift filling the air. They finish their popsicles in comfortable silence, Luke biting at the stick when he’s done for something to do with his mouth.

“Oh!” Calum exclaims, startling Luke a little. Calum rummages around in the bag, pulling out a small bag and holding it out to Luke. Luke takes it from Calum, blushing when he realizes that it’s a ring pop.

“What is this Cal?”

“A ring pop. Remember those? I think this is blue raspberry flavored,” He says. Luke rips the foil open, pulling out the ring pop, blue lollipop and red plastic ring.

“You remembered?”

“That blue raspberry is your favorite flavor? Give me some credit as your boyfriend,” Calum jokes. Luke smiles.

“Thank you.”

“Wait!” Calum exclaims, holding his hand out for the ring.

“Come on Calum. You can’t be serious,” Luke groans. Calum continues to make grabby hands for the ring. Luke sighs, heavy and pretending to be put out.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Nope. Better to just give it to me now and get it over it.”

Luke rolls his eyes, holding the ring gingerly in his fingers. Calum takes it from Luke, holding it out dramatically to him again.

“Luke. Love of my life. Darling. Sweetheart.”

“Does this have a point?”

“Rude. Here I am trying to propose to you and you just want to rush me along.”

“I want my ring pop before it melts in the sun with how long you’re taking.”

Calum sighs heavily, gesturing for Luke’s hand. Luke holds out his left hand, letting Calum slide the ring onto his ring finger.

“Will you marry me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. You’re getting closer to a yes, I will say that.”

“I’m going to dump you for Ashton if you don’t start appreciating my love.”

“Like Michael would let you get away with taking Ashton and overlooking him as a replacement,” Luke says, rolling his eyes.

“Take this seriously Luke.”

“You take it seriously. You don’t know how to propose properly.”

Calum rolls his eyes, huffing, “You know, one day I’m going to propose for real and you’re not going to know what to do.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Luke fires back, tampering down on the flare in his chest at the idea of Calum proposing for real, glancing away as Taylor Swift sings about love in the background, heart fond as Calum kicks his legs in the water, smiling softly at Luke, Luke smiling back and squeezing Calum’s ankle.

***

Luke wasn’t expecting to spend date night a planetarium, but he doesn’t think he should be surprised. Luke and Calum have both been fascinated by the stars for years, the idea that no matter where they are, everyone is sharing the same sky. It used to bring them comfort back when Calum was in Rio on his own, separated from Luke and Michael, and later when the four of them were living in England alone for the first time in their lives, thinking about their parents.

The sky isn’t as much of a safety net as it once was, but Luke still adores the night skies, the stars. He and Calum like to lay out on the deck at night, staring up at the stars and claiming that they can see whatever shapes people swear are out there. Calum keeps saying they should buy a telescope, but they’re both lazy and keep putting it off.

It led to their date tonight, Luke and Calum sitting in a planetarium, listening to the narrator in the theater tell them about the stars and what’s up in the night sky. Luke keeps grabbing Calum’s hand, squeezing it excitedly everytime they see something interesting on the screen. Calum’s smiling fondly at Luke, squeezing back whenever Luke does it.

The man moves on to talking about the planets now, working his from Jupiter to Saturn, giving off fun facts about the planets.

Calum leans over, whispering into Luke’s ear, “Hey, you know what Saturn has?”

“What?”

“Rings,” Calum says, raising his eyebrows and wiggling them. Luke groans, letting his head fall back against the seat.

“Not this again Calum.”

“Hey! It’s a ring,” Calum says, the people around them shushing Calum when he gets too loud. Calum sinks down in the seat, embarrassed slightly at it. A few moments pass before Calum turns to Luke again.

“It counts Luke.”

“It does not. You cannot propose to me without something physical.”

“Why not? It’s a ring.”

“I will not say yes to a proposal that does not come with a physical ring,” Luke says, turning back to the presentation as the narrator moves onto the next planet. Luke thinks that’s the end of it, Calum going quiet next to him. Luke glances next to him, chest warming as he looks at Calum, bathed in galaxy lights, staring up at the ceiling in wonder. Luke’s almost forgotten about the exchange until they’re in the gift shop later, poking around. Calum lets out a little whoop of excitement, turning to Luke and poking him.

“What?” Luke asks, turning to Calum, going cross eyed at the postcard that Calum’s waving in his face.

“Look! It’s a postcard of Saturn!”

“Okay?”

“It’s a physical form of rings! I can propose to you with this!” Calum crows. Luke sighs heavily, rolling his eyes.

“Calum it still does not count. It’s not an actual ring.”

“Please Luke? Will you marry me?”

“If I say yes, will you drop the argument for including Saturn’s rings?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes Calum. I accept your bogus proposal,” Luke says. Calum shrieks in happiness, leaning over to press a kiss to Luke’s lips and rushing over to the cash register to buy Luke’s proposal “ring.” Luke sighs, pretending to be put out when Calum hands the postcard to him in a dramatic swipe. If the postcard goes up on their fridge, well, only Luke and Calum have to know about it, Calum grinning knowing and Luke rolling his eyes the whole time, pretending to be annoyed, but instead feeling fond and loved.

***

Calum’s on a weird art kick. It’s unusual for him. Usually, when Calum’s feeling creative, he plays his bass or writes songs, walking around the house humming under his breath. Today though, Calum has hidden himself away in the studio with some art supplies. He squirreled it all in there this morning, hiding it all from Luke and making Luke promise that he won’t come and look before Calum is ready to show him. Calum had claimed it was a surprise, despite Luke’s whining about being left out. Luke’s feeling very uncreative this morning, spending the day on the couch, flipping around the TV still he gets sucked into a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress.

Luke’s lost track of time, hollering at the TV and alternating between arguing with the family’s who won’t let brides wear what they want and brides who have poor fashion taste (Luke’s been in Fashion Week, he should know a little about fashion). He doesn’t even realize Calum’s standing there until he hears him clear his throat from the doorway. Luke startles a little, turning to look at Calum. Calum crosses the room, coming to stand next to the couch. He’s holding both hands behind his back as he drops to one knee. Luke swallows, panicking filling his throat. Is this really when Calum’s going to propose? Luke knows his answer, but he isn’t ready to say yes. He needs time to process this.

Calum takes his hands out from behind his back, holding something up, held gingerly between both fingers. Luke squints, leaning forward to take a look at it.

“Cal?”

“Yeah honey?”

“What is this?”

“It’s a ring. I made this for you,” Calum says. He’s holding the paper ring out to Luke, face open and eager.

“I think you’re supposed to give it to me,” Luke says. Calum grins even wider. He takes Luke’s offered left hand, holding it in his own as he slides the ring onto Luke’s ring finger. Luke admires the paper. It’s a soft pale pink, slips of paper interwoven to create a braided effect, ends all tucked into one another. Luke can’t tell where the paper starts or ends.

“Do you accept my proposal?” Calum says, tone light and teasing. Luke glances up, noticing the nervous, worried flicker in Calum’s eyes at Luke’s hesitation. Luke smiles softly, tugging Calum closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Are you proposing for real or just practicing?”

“Will that change your answer?”

“Well, I don’t want to get my hopes up if this is all just a trial run,” Luke says, aiming for casual, coming off as nervous instead.

Calum hums, “Maybe this is your proposal. A paper ring and my love.”

Luke hums, examining the ring, “Pink is my color.”

Calum grins, “Well then, Luke Hemmings, do you accept my pseudo proposal?”

Luke huffs, smacking Calum’s shoulder, “Just for that I’m saying no Calum.”

“Oh come on. You said you would say yes.”

“Not if you’re going to mock me,” Luke says, haughty and trying to cover up the hurt in his voice as he stands from the couch. Luke knows it’s just silly teasing, a game between the two of them, but his heart aches everytime he thinks Calum is really proposing to him, only to be let down yet again. Luke wants to know when the proposal is going to be real. Luke places this ring away with the cupcake ring and lip ring to hold a special place in his heart until Calum is ready.

***

Luke wakes up, frowning when he realizes that the bed is empty next to him. A quick glance at the clock confirms that it’s only 8:00am, far too early for Calum to be up and out of bed. Frowning, Luke rolls over onto his back, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He gets a bearing of his surroundings, can hear Calum banging around in the kitchen. Curious, Luke gets out of bed and starts to head down to the kitchen.

Calum’s in there, humming along to the music he’s playing through his phone speakers. He’s dancing around the kitchen slightly, coffee heating up, waffles cooking. Luke clears his throat, startling Calum and causing him to turn around.

“Morning sunshine,” Calum says, grinning at Like. He looks nervous, which confuses Luke. He’s never seen Calum with this much energy in the morning.

“Morning love. You’re making breakfast?”

“Yep. Almost done. You should take a seat,” Calum says, jittery. Cautiously, Luke makes his way over to the table and sits down. He watches Calum plate the waffles, dumping blueberries and strawberries onto the plate as well and carrying them both over. He puts one in front of Luke and goes back for the coffee. He pours two mugs, bringing them over as well. He puts them down on the table, smiling down at Luke.

Luke smiles back, “Are you serious you’re okay? You seem nervous.”

Instead of answering, Calum drops down to one knee. Luke’s heart stops. He doesn’t know if he can take another fake proposal. Calum pulls a small velvet box out of his pockets. Oh...oh. Luke swallows. This is real, this is happening. Calum’s hands are shaking as he opens the box. It’s a beautiful ring, light blue stone set in a gold band.

“Oh Calum. It’s beautiful,” Luke whispers.

“Don’t say anything. I have a whole speech planned and you can’t distract me,” Calum says. Luke zips his lips, earning a nervous laugh from Calum.

“Luke, I’ve known you for so long. It’s hard to put a number on it because it feels like forever. You’re a part of my days, my life, my being. Everything you do just puts me more and more in awe of you. You’re a bright, sunny, wonderful part of my day. I don’t know what I would do without you. When I picture the future, I picture you in it. Growing older, getting more dogs, maybe a kid. I always picture you. Our lives are ever changing, but you are the one constant in my life. I love you so much. Luke Robert Hemmings, will you marry me?” Calum asks, holding the ring box up. Luke whispers out a barely audible yes, nodding fervently. Calum’s face breaks out into a wide grin, pulling the ring from the box and sliding it onto Luke’s finger with shaking hands.

Luke thinks he might be crying as he pulls Calum in for a kiss, but it doesn’t seem to matter, Calum’s face equally wet with tears as they kiss, ring band digging into Calum’s cheek.

“See, I told you I had a good plan. You just had to wait,” Calum says when they pull apart. Luke rolls his eyes, pulling Calum down onto his lap.

“Sap,” Luke says fondly, burying his face into Calum’s neck. Calum’s smile is in his voice as he plays with Luke’s curls.

“ Got you to say yes.”

“Fine fine, maybe all your other proposals were good prep,” Luke says, rolling his eyes when Calum laughs. It doesn’t matter either way. No matter how many ways Calum’s proposed to him, this one way is Luke’s favorite. It’s sentimental and true and real. Luke is Calum’s and Calum’s is Luke’s. Forever and ever now. All the other parts are just fluff as long as they have each other.

#5 seconds of summer #cake #luke hemmings #calum hood #this was just an excuse to write a proposal for Cake #its so and fluffy and cute #my writing

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kisskissbanggang · 4 years

Text

Au Pair

[WayV Mystery Member 👀 x Female Reader -- 6.1K Words/20Min. Read -- Fluffy Plot, Fluffy Smut -- NSFW, Living Abroad, Will-They-Won’t-They, Horrible Bosses, Impreg Kink, Tense Situations]

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When you first entered college, you never quite predicted you would end up on the other side of the world during your senior year, but here you were on a balmy summer day, grabbing your bags out of your ride from the airport. Your Uber had taken you down a driveway long enough to make you think you were miles away from the city, and now you were faced with the most laughably luxurious home you'd ever seen in person.

From what you understood, your interview with the Copelands had gone well for two big reasons: 1) they appreciated all the credentials and materials you'd masterfully prepared, and 2) you were American, which apparently reminded them of home. They were almost cheating the whole concept of having an au pair, because you certainly weren't going to be exchanging much culture in a home like theirs, aside from maybe class culture. They certainly had enough money to do whatever they wanted, which was baffling considering they could've just hired a professional nanny for their son rather than an au pair for the year.

Melissa Copeland stood at the threshold of this near-palace, angular and terrifying in her smart suit. You could practically feel a cool breeze emanating from her as you approached. She finally looked up from her phone, her purse hooked on the crook of her arm like she was about to leave.

"You're finally here. I was about to leave."

You quickly dropped your bags to offer a handshake. A firm, friendly, American handshake. She may as well have been handing off her keys to the valet for how much she even touched your extended hand.

"Mrs. Copeland, I'm so sor--"

"Melissa."

"Er, Melissa, I'm so sorry, my flight was delayed."

"I can see that. I'll make time for a quick tour. Come inside." She gestured to her personal assistant -- a mouse of a girl -- to notice your bags on the ground. She wordlessly lunged forward and grabbed them, then sprinted inside the house with them as gracefully as possible. You followed Melissa into the foyer.

"As I said, I'll make this quick," your new boss droned, "this is the foyer. You'll obviously be staying in the guest room closest to Carson's, which is up the grand staircase, at the end of the west hallway, ergo, yours is the second to last room down said hallway. The Master Suite is at the end of the east hallway. The kitchen is in the back, pool is outside, you can take one of the cars or request a driver from Brent's company if you need a ride anywhere. Not sure when Brent will be home; his business trip has been extended. Carson is at dance lessons right now, and will be back at 3 o'clock. If you need anything else explained, you can ask our head of household, Ai. She's somewhere doing something; she shouldn't be hard to find."

You hadn't left the room. You hadn't walked around the room. Really, Melissa had hardly moved at all while she'd spoken. You were on edge, suddenly wondering if you were in way over your head, only shaken out of your stress as a car rolled up outside the open front door behind you. Melissa casually strolled to the door, her "tour" apparently over as she stopped to regard you one last time. "I'm glad you're here --"

"I am, too, Melissa, you--"

"-- It'll be much easier to reinforce Carson's English with an American au pair. Not to mention all our friends didn't think to get an au pair for their kids. Just nannies. Now we're the only ones." She gave a shrugging smirk as she slipped out the door and into the waiting car. Her assistant scampered back through the foyer, hot on the trail as she quickly followed Melissa.

Then she was gone. You gazed, bewildered, around the giant foyer before making your way up the grand staircase. You peeked into Carson's room, noting how oddly sterile it all looked for a little boy. It looked as though it had been plucked out of an Ikea catalogue... Only not the children’s section. Rather, the room had the sensibility and furnishings of a shrunken design major.

"Lost?"

You whirled around, gasping in surprise as you were faced with a woman who was a good head or more shorter than you and easily your mother's age.

"Er, no," you stammered, "I was just taking a look. Are you Ai?"

The woman smiled warmly. "Come on, then," she nodded her head down the hallway, "I've brought some fresh towels for your en suite."

Ai had led you back down the hall and into the guest room -- easily three or four times the size of your last shoebox of a dorm, not even including the giant bathroom. She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you met Carson once he was dropped back off from dance lessons. A perfectly sweet little boy, Carson couldn't be older than five. He followed the two of you around as Ai showed you the rest of the house in greater detail. She, as well as the Copelands' personal chef, groundskeeper, and Melissa's personal assistant stayed in the staff quarters just off of the kitchen, but you had been deemed necessary to stay closer to Carson. You would be invited to family meals if it was ruled to be best for Carson, but otherwise you weren't needed after dinner time, except to occasionally put him to bed. Tonight you had decided to take dinner with Ai in the common area of the staff quarters.

You sat on the comfy couch in this infinitely cozier part of the house, watching as Ai made you both some dinner. "So," you smirked, "no personal chef for us, then?"

"Don't need one," Ai laughed, shrugging, "besides, it's what, Saturday? He usually gets dinner prepared and runs out of here for the night." She brought the food to the small dinner table as you walked over to join her.

She laid out some ground rules, or "unwritten rules" as she was cryptically saying. "I know it'll be tempting to ask Mrs. Copeland for her opinion on things,” she explained, “but don't. Get ahold of me or one of the others instead. Believe me, you're better off making a guess if you can't. Don't accept a drink from Mr. Copeland. You're young, and you're pretty, and you have a young body walking under that young brain of yours, so he'll try to be tricky eventually. You'll be tempted to get involved with their personal business, but don't. You will anyway, but try not to. We've all been there, we've all learned, but it still happens to everyone."

It only took you a few days of being restless in the giant home for you to begin feeling more confident in your new role. You accompanied Carson to see his various teachers and tutors, but you also began enriching his day-to-day life. First was a couple trips to different museums you wanted to visit, and then a zoo the next week. Carson began joining you as you explored the city, either holding your hand or sitting on your shoulders as you went shopping and eating together. Melissa and Brent were "homesick", so they insisted on mostly American food in the house. Well, that had to change. Carson particularly enjoyed hot pot or anything involving cheese. He helped you feel more curious, but also more alert. You'd only ever babysat a few times as a younger teenager, so you weren't used to the intense protective instincts you occasionally felt, even going so far as to scold an old woman who pinched his cheek one day while in a cafe.

Carson was more than excited to continue your adventures together, barely able to contain himself as you helped him shimmy into his swim trunks one day. The Copelands had a ludicrously beautiful pool, and it was a shame that its only use seemed to be as a tanning bed for Melissa. You walked through the dining room together to the open glass doors leading out to the backyard. You dramatically smacked yourself in the forehead. "Of course," you told Carson, "we did all this work to get ready and I forgot your floaties upstairs. Wait here, okay? I'll go get them."

You could've sworn you only got halfway up the stairs when you heard a soft splash from outside. The hair on the back of your neck rose as your heart firmly sank in your chest. Carson may be a smart kid, but a kid nonetheless. You sprinted downstairs, kicking off your sandals and your cover-up as you were suddenly overtaken, another person whipping past you and diving straight into the pool. You looked behind you, regarding the door to the kitchen still hanging open as a gasp quickly brought your attention back to the pool. Lunging forward, you helped this stranger pull Carson out of the pool when you realized you were crying. You heard yourself choke out a sob as you noticed Carson wasn't breathing, until the man grabbed him under the armpits, hoisted him down over one knee, and gave him a firm thump on the back. Carson spit up a cough of water, gasping into a cry and reaching for you. You pulled the little boy close, clutching him tight as you hurriedly walked him upstairs.

Only after he was calmed down, and you called his pediatrician to see if you needed to take any precautions, and you called Melissa for the sake of transparency, did you finally put Carson down for a well-needed nap. Melissa was frustratingly flippant despite her concern, curtly noting that they should put Carson into swim lessons as soon as possible before quickly having to hang up. You flipped on the baby monitor, grabbing the receiver and heading downstairs to retrieve your sandals and cover-up when you noticed the door to the kitchen was still open. You peered inside, following the wet footprints into the door leading to the staff quarters. The trail of drips led down the hall to one of the bedrooms, and you peeked inside. The bed was neatly made, the desk was well organized, and you let yourself gravitate towards the photos pinned on the opposite wall. Sure enough, the stranger from the pool was in nearly all the pictures, smiling and laughing with friends and family members. You were jolted out of your snooping as a hand landed on your shoulder. You whirled around, faced with the handsome guy in the photos.

"Are you lost?" He laughed, patting his hair dry with a fluffy towel. He had apparently changed into his comfy clothes, wearing a thin t-shirt and some track pants.

"Oh, holy crap," you wheezed, "I am so sorry. This looks so weird of me. It is weird of me! I just wanted to thank you so much for what you did."

"It was no problem," he modestly dismissed, "and it had to be done. Is Carson alright?"

"Yes! He'll be fine. And yourself?"

"I'll also be fine," he smiled warmly, his hand returning to your shoulder, "and you? You'll be fine?"

You nodded, earnestly at first and suddenly crumbling back into tears. You were still a bit shaken up, honestly, enough so that you found yourself leaning into the chest of a man whose name you didn't even know.

"Hey," he soothed, "hey, hey, you did great. You did better than great." He slid a gentle knuckle under your chin to tip your gaze up at him. You realized, now, just what you were doing: crying onto -- and hugging -- a stranger in his bedroom while wearing only a bikini. You found yourself entirely overcome with embarrassment. Your cheeks burning bright red, you turned and scampered out of the room.

A couple nights had passed before you could bear to venture back down to the kitchen. This had become a bit of a ritual lately, where you would sneak downstairs when you couldn't fall asleep and have a small snack, or maybe a glass or two of wine while you read. It was a stunning kitchen, just like the rest of the house. You hopped up onto the counter with your glass of Pinot, munching on a couple small slices of gouda while you looked over an article on your phone. The door creaked and you steeled yourself, ready to apologize to Melissa for sitting on the counter and drinking her wine (though you knew you didn't have to and you were already sure she drank enough that she'd never notice.) Instead, in through the door popped the cute guy you'd already made a fool of yourself in front of. You both carefully regarded each other from across the room.

"Is that the Pinot?" He asked.

"Yes?"

"A Merlot would pair better with that." He strolled over, opening the miniature wine fridge on the counter reserved specifically for opened bottles. He slid out a handsome Merlot and poured you a new glass. "I'm not one for letting it breathe when I'm just snacking, but it's worth trying sometime."

You took another nibble of the cheese in your hand, catching yourself keeping eye contact with the man as you tried the wine. You nodded contentedly. "I'm sorry for the other day,” you offered, “That must've been awkward for you."

"No, not at all. Well, no more than needed, which was only a tiny bit. You were stressed out; I get it." He took the half full glass of Pinot out of your hands and sipped from it. "I'd hate to let this go to waste," he explained.

"Do I get to know your name?"

"Only if you promise not to cry on me tonight," he teased, looking regretful as he saw your reaction. "Too mean? Too mean. My name is Kun."

You introduced yourself and you talked.

In fact, you talked late every night in the kitchen that week. Kun was refreshing, smart, thoughtful. Sometimes you just snacked and joked around, other times he cooked you something and you both enjoyed it while you stayed up talking. Kun’s cooking was always effortlessly delicious, whether it was a grilled cheese or an entire tiramisu he secretly made for you to share. It wasn’t long before he suggested you see each other during the daytime, maybe when Carson was at one of his lessons. It was exciting to think that Kun wanted to spend so much time with you.

“Are you going to watch me?” Carson asked you while he slipped on his ballet shoes.

“Not today, bud,” you admitted, apologetic but firm.

“Awh, why? I like when you watch,” he pouted.

“I’m hanging out with Kun while you dance. Is that okay?”

Carson thought about it before nodding. “Yeah. I like Kun. He’s nice. Do you like Kun?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “I like Kun. Have fun, and I'll be right here when you're done.”

Carson waved out the window of the dance studio as you left, waving back at him when Kun pulled up to the curb on his scooter. He handed you a spare helmet before whisking you away.

Kun had brought you to a tiny cafe deep in the city, winding you down side streets and eventually ending up in a quiet corner of a quiet coffee shop, nonchalantly tittering with the quiet small talk that surrounded you as you sipped your coffee. He explained what made a good cup of coffee, and was pleasantly stunned when you matched him beat for beat with your knowledge from your stint as a coffee snob. He liked how driven you were, even as you insisted you had no idea what you were doing half the time. Having his personal attention was quickly becoming a luxury, something you treasured more and more. Kun was curious if you considered staying past your contract with the Copelands, but it was hard to tell at this point. What all was there to stay for?

His hand gently held yours as you talked, something you hadn’t expected but readily accepted, his casual forwardness making this easy when it would normally make you wary. You didn’t always fall for guys, but it was so effortless with Kun. He was practically beckoning you with open arms and you were practically leaping into them for how carefree this felt. Every touch was gentle and innocent, like he was scared of chasing you away. He didn’t try to kiss you, he didn’t even try to hold you, but he was perfectly content holding your hand. This was easy.

What wasn’t as easy was work. Carson wasn’t always cooperative, especially with how little he saw his parents. With so many authority figures in his life but no stable rally point, he would act out. It wasn’t constant, but it was regular enough. The silent treatment one moment, or perhaps a whine, or maybe a full-blown tantrum. You were becoming a pro at ignoring onlookers when Carson would spontaneously decide to have a meltdown.

On a particularly moody night, Carson begged and begged you to come to dinner with him, and suddenly figured in the middle of the meal that he had no desire to eat his vegetables (which was a shame, considering how impeccable Kun got the roast on them.) His whines became tears as you attempted to reason with him. Melissa watched, carefully observing. Brent momentarily caught your attention, an odd look in his eye making you quickly avert your gaze. Once negotiations were finally settled, Brent smiled a small smile, quietly impressed. Melissa, however, had a look of contempt. Had you done something wrong?

Thankfully, Kun was always there at the end of the night to help you vent, just let off some steam as you sat and hung out in the kitchen. In a rare moment of pure spite, you let him know that even though you had no kids of your own, that you were confident that you’d be a better mother than Melissa. To your utter surprise, Kun agreed.

“The way you handle Carson? Perfect,” Kun praised as he poured you another glass of wine, “Melissa’s just being a jerk because it doesn’t come naturally to her.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. She was all business before Carson from the sound of it, and she doesn’t seem much different. She was Brent’s assistant before she was his wife, you know.”

You pondered that as you sipped your wine. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” you concluded. Kun nodded in return.

“If it makes you feel any better, it sounds like Brent sees a lot of Melissa in you. I heard him mention it on one of his phone calls he takes in the gazebo out back. I take it that he likes how professional you are and everything.”

It didn’t make you feel better. In all honesty, it hung on you and nagged at you for days. The first time you had really met Brent, weeks ago now, you had literally run into him after bringing some laundry downstairs. Ai would normally grab it, but the brevity still felt odd and you were headed down there anyhow. You had bumped into Brent as you turned a corner, dropping your laundry basket and letting out an uncharacteristic squeal of surprise. Brent was so tall. It was a little intimidating as he had stooped down to help you pick up your clothes, that same sideways smile you saw at dinner tonight on his face as he had handed you a couple of shirts he grabbed for you. His thumb had been right on top of the bundle he passed back to you, dipped into a stray pair of panties that you had dropped with the basket. You had blushed and gathered your clothes before running off.

You never thought you compared to Melissa, but now you were scrutinizing her as well as yourself. You compared the ways you dressed, the ways you walked, but couldn't see any similarities. What did Brent mean? One day, you sat with Carson in his room as he put makeup on you. He was so interested in coloring and painting, that he got so intensely curious when he noticed you touching up your lips one afternoon. So, you figured, why not let him go crazy?

“I like your eyes,” Carson observed as he carefully colored your eyebrows. They were currently jet black and very angry.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “I like your face and your hair but I like your eyes the most.”

“What about Mommy?” You asked curiously.

“I don’t like Mommy’s eyes,” Carson shook his head.

“You don’t? What else is different about Mommy and me?”

“Everything,” Carson concluded, “what a weird question.”

It was a weird question, but now you felt better knowing that even Carson thought so.

Finally, the next day, you’d had it. You went to look for Brent when you were sure he was home. It would just be a curious -- but blunt -- question. He'd been nice enough to you before that you figured he would understand. And you’d laugh about it. You’d heard the door to the patio open and close when you’d been studying up in your room signaling you that he was taking one of his business calls in the backyard again.

You quietly padded down the stairs, through the foyer and into the dining room. A gasp forced itself from your chest before you even really registered what you saw outside in the yard beyond the giant sliding glass doors. Melissa turned from where she straddled Kun’s lap by the poolside, her momentary confusion turning into the most spiteful smile you'd ever witnessed. Kun was frozen under her, his eyes locked on you in an expression you couldn't make out before you quickly turned away, reeling as you rushed back to your room.

It was an odd feeling, being so betrayed by someone you didn’t feel even belonged to you. Of course you were friendly, of course you flirted a little, but now you just felt stupid for ever thinking that Kun wanted you. Of course he would want Melissa instead, Melissa who stood tall and lithe and was pretty and sexy and well-spoken and so, so commanding. You never knew a person who dominated a room like she did. It hurt seeing her on top of him, and you just felt like a petulant girl for it. You waited for him in the kitchen every night for days, but he never showed. Your heartbreak only multiplied.

Fine, you figured. If Kun liked sexy then you could do that. You felt a little immature the next evening as you unfolded the new dress you bought from its shopping bag, but it felt proactive. The dress was simple, honestly, but it hugged your body and it wasn't like anything you owned already. You did already own exactly one pair of stilettos, something you only brought for appearances in case you had been asked to accompany the family to a party or other function. Your plan was simple: you'd head down to the kitchen to let Ai know you were heading out for the night and just happen to run into Kun. Your heels clicked on the tile and echoed off the walls as you headed downstairs. Was this petty? Sure, but would it get results? You were confident it would.

The kitchen was apparently empty at first, but you were surprised to see Brent pop up from behind the open refrigerator door as he snapped open a beer.

“Hey,” he smiled, “would you like one?”

“Oh,” you fumbled, your fingers playing with the chain of your clutch purse, “no, thank you. I was just telling Ai that I was going out, maybe ask Kun for a ride.”

“Well I saw Kun leave a few hours ago,” he shrugged, “but can we talk? I don't usually have time like this.”

“Sure,” you nodded with a small smile as you set your purse down on the kitchen island, “is it about Carson?”

“No no,” Brent shook his head as he pushed an open beer into your hand anyhow. You absently sipped at it, drawing a grin from him. “It's about you. You watch my son almost all hours of the day and I hardly know you.” He pulled a bar stool out from under the island and invited you to sit. However, he still stood as you talked. You explained school and work and life back home, things you realized you'd talked with Kun about not too long ago.

“Sorry if I'm rambling,” you winced, setting your beer down. Brent flashed you a dashing smile.

“Not at all. You're great. It's nice to get to know you.” You blushed deep at the words as Brent brushed his fingers back through his hair. “Admittedly, I picked you. I think I did pretty well.”

“You did? You do?”

Brent nodded solemnly. “You think Melissa wanted an au pair around? Someone to be a better mother than she is? If I weren't so busy, I'd have Carson to myself. That's why I'm so glad I picked you. I liked your resume. That presenter picture you included from that convention was cute.”

Your blush heated your face even more. Maybe Brent was just really forward and blunt like his wife? You shifted awkwardly in your seat when he took a step closer to you. “I'm glad I'm doing a good job,” you offered, tempted to slide off your chair before Brent took another step closer.

“You're doing a fine job,” he spoke softly, “you remind me a lot of Melissa when I first met her. She always looked so eager to please.” At this he stepped between your knees. Your breath hitched in your throat as Brent stroked your hair behind your ear. Even as you clenched your legs, trying to shut him out, he leaned in even closer. “What about you? Are you eager to please?”

Shameful tears were already welling at the corners of your eyes as you thrashed against him, putting your fists up to fight him off. Brent grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them tight with a disgustingly playful grin as his other hand trailed down to his belt.

“Think about it,” he chided, “you're in a house in a city in a country on the other side of the planet. Can you really afford losing this job? Getting thrown out on the street?”

“Brent, please—“

“Call me Mr. Copeland,” he insisted. Brent neared despite your tearful grimace, his lips barely brushing yours before he was yanked off of you. You helplessly watched, relieved and terrified as Kun pulled him back and got in between you.

“Jesus, Brent--” Kun spat, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

Brent immediately squared up against him. He towered over you, but he was still half a head taller than Kun. “Why is it your business, boy? We were just having a nice chat.”

“Didn’t look too nice to me,” Kun shook his head firmly, “I think you should go.”

“I don’t think you should talk to me like that in my own fucking home,” Brent glowered.

“And I don’t think I should tell Melissa that you hired an au pair just to fuck, but maybe we should both re-think things.” Kun stood his ground as Brent fumed, ultimately throwing a fist right for Kun that he managed to dodge. He tried again, this time Kun ducking and delivering his own punch to Brent’s stomach. Brent crumpled, the air knocked out of him as Kun grabbed your hand and your purse and pulled you into the door to the staff quarters. He flipped a lock on the inside of the door and marched you down the hall into his room as Brent knocked manically on the door.

Kun closed his bedroom door behind him and instantly caught you as you fell into him, all your frightful tears catching up to you and spilling onto his chest.

“Shh,” Kun soothed as he wrapped an arm back around your shoulders, careful not to overstep while you were in this state. He still held you close, stroking your hair.

“What’re you doing back already?” You asked into his shoulder.

“Been feeling off all week. Going out wasn’t helping, so I came back.”

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke into his shirt, dipping your head down into his chest.

“Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?” Kun grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back just enough to look into your eyes. His jaw was set firm, his eyes still wild with adrenaline and anger.

“The other day when I saw you with Melissa by the pool,” you babbled, “I dunno, I just felt so jealous, and I just wanted you to pay attention to me like that, too, and it’s so stupid, Kun, I was so stupid--”

“No.” Kun said firmly. “That’s not stupid. You're not stupid. I should've talked to you instead of hiding away.” He let you go, taking a seat on the bed and exasperatedly pushing his face into his hands for a second. You took the opportunity to seat yourself at his desk, thankful that he chose the bed instead. “Melissa and I… It’s complicated. She’s lonely but she’s awful, and I need this job now that I have it. My name will be smeared all over town if I leave on bad terms, especially since I've never let her get everything she wants. But she still comes onto me, and even more since you came here.”

“So the other day?”

“I thought she was out at a meeting and I went for a swim. When I came up for air she was sitting there and got me to come out to talk and, well, you saw.” Kun’s eyes were downcast with his admission. “I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for what happened out there.”

“Is it true?” You asked. Kun perked his head back up to look at you. “Did Melissa not want me here?”

Kun sighed. “No.”

“Brent said she didn't want someone to come and be a better mother than her.”

“I know we've joked about it, but she's tried. It just hasn't come to her yet.”

“That's no excuse,” you shook your head, “she can only be so unaccepting. She can't hire me and hate me.”

“Sure she can. She’s stubborn.”

“That’s not fair, though.”

“No, it’s not.” Kun commiserated.

The silence settled in the room as Brent finally finished knocking down the hall.

“You look amazing, by the way.” Kun admitted quietly.

“Only in this?”

Kun shook his head. “All the time, but especially in this.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“The whole… Melissa of it all. If I told you how beautiful are and how good talking to you feels, and how I adore how you taste my food and you don’t just eat it, and you talk to me and you don’t just listen… It would make everything difficult.”

Your patience hit the tipping point, and you were done waiting for something to happen for you. Kun watched curiously as you stood, crossing the couple short steps stand between his knees. His eyes closed as your fingertips pushed back through his hair, but they opened right back up as you gently lowered yourself onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Kun waited, wary of moving too fast for you. Only when you wrapped your arms around him did he return the gesture. You stroked his hair back again, and Kun took the hint to look into your eyes again.

“So we could've done this a long time ago?”

“We should’ve,” Kun replied. His hands gently pulled you closer where they rested on the small of your back. That was all the confirmation you needed. Your fingers threading back through his hair, you gently, finally, lovingly pressed your lips to his. This loosened him up even more, instantly matching and accelerating your growing passion.

“How much do--” he began asking against your neck as he placed a kiss below your ear.

“--Everything,” you answered promptly, “I want to make up for missed time.”

“Everything?” He clarified.

“Everything.”

Kun nodded with an eager grin, quickly sliding off his jacket and getting his fingers into the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off and you were confronted with the heat coming off him. It was so inviting that you instantly reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it all the way down. You shrugged the sleeves off your shoulders, revealing the lacy bra you had on underneath. Kun nuzzled close, his hands gently on your breasts and trailing around back to the clasp as he drew your lips into another hungry kiss.

“What if we’d been doing this all along?” You smirked as he tossed your bra onto the desk chair. You grabbed his shirt off the bed and did the same.

“Well, I don’t think I could leave you alone,” he laughed as he kissed and groped your breasts. “It’d be pretty obvious that you're mine.”

“Think we could've prevented that out there?” You asked. Kun grimaced.

“Don't talk about it, but for what it's worth, sure. Instead of being here you would be out with me at dinner.”

“Tell me I'm yours again,” you smiled sweetly as you kissed his neck, a giggle escaping you when he shivered in return. Kun grabbed you around the waist and laid you down on the bed. The hem of your slinky dress was already raised on your hips. He made quick work of pulling off your panties, tossing these onto the desk chair as well.

“You’re all mine,” Kun said seriously as he laid against you, pressing up between your spread legs, “just like I'm all yours. And you only have to say so and I would leave with you.”

“You would?” You gasped as you reached between you to get his jeans open. His length warm in your hands drove you wild, all the emotions you were feeling only amplifying.

“Absolutely,” Kun assured you as he ground into your hand, “you think working here will be the same?”

“What about Carson?” You breathlessly asked as Kun’s own fingers began exploring your entrance.

“He’ll be fine as long as Ai’s here until she helps hire a new caretaker. And you’ll be fine. You’re going to be a perfect mother some day.” Those words made you throb in a way you never had before. Even Kun took notice of your interesting reaction as his firm cock probed into your dripping pussy. The wheels in his head visibly turned. “Are…” He carefully began, “are you on birth control?”

You nodded, catching up to his train of thought. A faint idea of what he meant was forming in your head, and you wanted to try. “Kun,” you breathed, “fuck me. Put a baby in me.”

Kun’s eyes lit up, the fire behind them practically burning you. “Say it again,” he ordered.

“Put a baby in me, Kun,” you begged sweetly.

Kun’s cock throbbed hard in you as began to fuck you in earnest. “Alright, now never say it again if you don’t want me to cum instantly,” he laughed breathlessly as he thrust against you.

“You sure? What if I ask you to cum in me and knock me up?” You smiled evilly and Kun groaned deep. He kissed you hard as you whined against him.

“Or,” you teased, your high heels tangling behind his back, “What if I say I want to make you a daddy?”

Kun let out another loud groan, his hips faltering against you. “And definitely never say that again,” he laughed desperately.

“Kun, Kun,” you pleaded, “it’s so good, you’re getting me there.”

“Yeah?” He gave you a naughty smile, “And you want me to cum, too, right? I'll fill you up and make you mine and put a baby in you?”

Your nails raked into Kun’s back, your feverish moans escaping you faster and more desperate as you neared your peak.

“Cum for me,” Kun ordered, his lips trailing over your shoulder, “cum for me and I promise I'll fill you up.”

You cried out with your orgasm, your tensed thighs clamping around Kun’s hips and he followed right after. He fell against you, your moans and sighs echoing against each other as your throbbing heat milked his cock dry. The two of you curled up into a sweating heap, breathing each other in in the afterglow.

“You meant it? About leaving together?” You finally asked. Kun panted his affirmation.

“I do. I'll strike a deal with Brent. No blacklisting and I won’t rat him out.”

“What about Melissa, though?”

“I’ll tell her once I find a new job. It just won't be obvious it's me.”

“Alright,” you nodded, still catching your breath in Kun’s arms, “so why should I?”

“Because I love you,” he whispered in return, and your heart was fit to burst.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #wayv fanfiction #wayv fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct fanfic #wayv smut #nct smut #mystery member #SPOILERS AHEAD #qian kun #wayv kun #nct kun #jesus I created this like last autumn???

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crowkingwrites · 5 years

Text

The Perfect After Party

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Request: Could you pleas3 do a part two of perfect prom night? (Anon)

Words: 2214 // [Ao3 Link]

>> PERFECT PROM NIGHT HERE << (Ramsay Bolton Masterlist)

Night became blurry when the lights started to flash on you and your crown. Nothing could make this night any better. Robb slowly dancing with you in your perfect dress, lights flashing to get a picture of Westeros High’s new prom queen, but the best part of it all was that this moment was every bit of what you worked for. You soaked it all in, letting the fame and popularity wash over you.

Once the music stopped, Robb placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His crown nudged yours. Both of you giggled at the small, but lovely moment.

Soon, prom would be over, but the night was just beginning. You started to get invites to after parties, house parties, hotel room parties, and anywhere a lucky girl could go on prom night in the big city. With a glowing face and a big smile, you walked over to your friends Jon and Ygritte.

“Everybody has an after party! Where should we go?” you asked them. They sheepishly looked at each other and then to you.

“Well, we—

“We had plans, Y/N,” Ygritte took over. You blinked, but then you remembered what Ygritte told you.

“Oh, that’s right. You guys have a room. Upstairs, yeah?” you nodded. They nodded back to you. “Right. I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t be!” Ygritte reached out to hug you. “You have so many parties to even go to. I mean, you won’t miss us. You’re Prom Queen!”

“You’re right! I am Prom Queen!” you laughed out loud and adjusted your pretty gold crown on your head. You smiled at both of them. “Have fun tonight, ok?”

“We will,” Jon nodded, looking longingly at Ygritte. Before you left the couple alone, Ygritte reached out to your hand. She put a sealed letter inside of it.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Open it when you’re ready. That’s all I can say,” Ygritte hugged you once more before you went off. The letter felt heavier than you thought. It didn’t matter. You tucked it inside your clutch as best you could and linked arms with Robb again who was laughing with Theon Greyjoy.

“And that’s all he said?” Robb tried to cover his mouth before he guffawed. “I’m tellin’ you! That was all he could manage to say, the poor fucker! Oh! Hello, Y/N. Or should I say, my queen?” Theon bowed to you dramatically. You played along.

“Thank you, dear subject. In this new kingdom, I dub you, Lord Theon Greyjoy, High Duke of the Seas.”

“Why, thank you, my lady, it would be an honor,” Theon kissed your hand playfully. You always told yourself that you’d give Theon a shot one day, but that day never came with Ramsay as an ex and Robb, Mr. Perfect Boyfriend. Still, his smile was infectious.

“They just invited us to come over to the beach mansion,” Robb casually said. You almost spit out your drink.

“THE Beach mansion? The sixty million dollar one?! But your dad—

“He’s off fucking some Euro whore,” Theon answered.

“Your sister—

“Is having the same fucking party,” Theon smiled big. “Biggest fest you can find. So, are you in or are you out?” The next thing anyone could remember that night is taking a big party bus crammed with horny and ready-to-party teenagers to the Greyjoy Mansion. You couldn’t care less if this place was two hours away from your house. Who gave a fuck? This was a party of a lifetime.

You planned to get trashed.

When you exited the bus with a shit load of other Greyjoy friends, you all stampeded to get inside the insane mansion. You could already hear kickass bass coming from the house. Different colored lights moved to the beat on the first floor. One of Yara’s college friends puked on the lawn. Another one stumbled to you and Robb.

“Ay, you one of those prom kids?” she said, giggling. “You’re so cute in your hat!” You watched her tumble down into the lawn, laughing.

“I want what she’s having,” you mentioned to Robb. You both went inside and saw the complete chaos this party already turned into. People were drinking from multiple jungle juice buckets. You smelled the marijuana in the air along with the cigarettes to cover it up. To the left, you saw Yara and the DJ leading an entire room of people to mosh inside the first living room.

To the right, you watched more people bounce and dance away to music and then a group of college guys holding up a freshman to drink an entire keg. Theon and Robb trotted over to join them. You caught a peek of the freshman’s six pack and another peek at his frat tattoo. You rolled your eyes. Not that impressive.

Robb passed you a cup of the jungle juice. “Here, drink it!” “Isn’t this basically poison?” you pointed at it.

“You said you wanted to get fucked up, right?” Robb winked at you. “You’ll be fine. Come on, drink it!”

You let the juice slide down your throat and you felt the burn along with it. You shook your head around, letting the burn settle. You felt invincible. You joined in on the mosh in the living room immediately. The bass vibrated the walls while you jumped up and down with everyone else. You sang-song the lyrics and felt your purse jumping up and down with you.

You grabbed onto the clutch’s chain. The letter. You check and there it was. Tucked inside and partially folded. Something in your gut said it was important. You dipped out the living room and explored the second level of the mega-mansion. You started to hear moaning from different bedrooms in the house. You could’ve sworn you watched Ros and Theon tumble together before the door closed behind them.

Opening a door slowly, you checked to make sure no one was using the bedroom you entered. It was dark and quiet. Once you flipped the switch, you found no one there. Just another fancy guest bedroom. This one had a glass wall that looked towards the ocean. The sky and water seemed to go on forever. You almost wanted to swim in it.

No, you were still too sober. You reminded yourself to get another drink.

You tucked your whole clutch into an empty drawer and made your way back to the first floor. You found Robb being lifted by the same college boys to drink a part of the keg. His suit jacket was gone, but the crown was miraculously on his head. You took another drink from a Northern friend, Jeyne Poole. Both of you drank it quickly because both of you didn’t want to deal with a slow burn in your throats.

Still, all of the alcohol seemed to hit you at once. It felt like a shot in the dark. Quick, out of nowhere, and now you had the energy and will to do almost anything. Jeyne took your hand to the backyard where you saw Viserys Targaryen playing with his band. He sang punk songs into the mic while people jumped into the pool with or without their clothes. Jeyne took off her prom dress and cannonball into the pool with her underwear on.

It was one night. What could one night do?

So, you made quick work on your own dress and jumped into the pool with her straight afterwards. The cold water shook your skin and body awake, but you’ve never felt more alive in your whole life. You thought you felt Jeyne’s lips on yours, but that may have been a floatie in the pool. As you stumbled out, you jammed along with the rock song Viserys and his guys played.

Your feet jammed and danced until you almost stumbled when someone caught you.

“Ay, now. You alright?” Yara held you. You rubbed your face and smiled. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine,” you giggled. “You’re the best big sister ever, Yara.”

“Oof, you are drunk, sweet girl,” Yara guided you away from the pool and into the house away from people. Another girl followed you into Yara’s bedroom. Yara sat you down on the bed while you fell over laughing.

“She ok?” the other girl asked.

“She’s one of my little brother’s friends. She’s fine. Can she borrow some of your clothes, Mel? I think she threw off her prom dress somewhere,” Yara explained. You faded out for a moment until you felt warm clothes against your skin. Mel gave you a cut off Led Zeppelin shirt that showed more of your belly than the band logo. You had comfy pajamas pants and fuzzy socks. Life felt amazing.

“Oh my gosh! These socks are so cute!” You squealed.

“Oh, she’s drunk,” Mel said. She climbed on the bed and offered you some water. You sucked away at the bottle like a baby. The cold liquid felt good down your throat, but you didn’t want to stop partying.

“I want to go partyyyyy,” you whined. Mel looked at Yara. She shrugged.

“Let her go, she’ll have more. This is Prom Night. Do you remember our prom night?” Yara winked at Mel. Mel smirked and let you leave the room. You stumbled your way back to the first floor again to find everybody filling the house with house music. You let your body dance to the beat and you closed your eyes.

Dancing to the music felt good as if the beat and your heart followed the same rhythm. You didn’t want it to stop. You let your eyes flutter open for a moment, and you wish you hadn’t. In the corner, there was Jeyne and Robb kissing away at each other both slipping their drinks on themselves.

You felt upset at first. You wanted nothing more to go over there and slap him across the face. Your feet carried you two steps forward when you realized. You weren’t that upset at all. You only dated Robb to hurt Ramsay. Robb only dated you to hurt Jeyne. You shrugged it off, maybe it was better this way. After all, Robb was always so kind to you, but he didn’t love you.

Just like you didn’t love Robb. You never loved Robb. You’ve only loved one guy.

An idea struck you like a chord. You carried yourself all the way upstairs and back to the same room you hid your clutch. This time, you heard moaning on the other side. You whispered a quick ‘fuck’ to yourself before you had some major decision-making to do.

Either one, you sit outside the door and wait till whoever was in there was done. Or two, you barged in there, grabbed your clutch, and made a quick leave. Before an angel or a devil found themselves on your shoulder, you remembered your stepmom’s advice. “Whatever you do tonight, just remember, what would make for a better story?” She winked after she told you that. She wasn’t your real mom, but hell she should be. You mustered up any kind of courage you had in your body. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you heard the moans and grunting get louder. Your hand grabbed the doorknob.

You twisted it and went in. You heard shrieks and several variations of ‘who the fuck are you?’. You pretended to not see the aroused penis as you reached in the drawer and sped out of the room. The door slammed behind you, and all you could do was laugh. Yes, this would make a much better story indeed.

You led yourself upstairs to the 3rd floor where you heard practically no one, but the deck was open for all. You found yourself in a quiet corner of it. The ocean waves went back and forth steadily. The letter was still sealed and bent in some places. When you opened it, you saw familiar handwriting staring back at you.

Hello Sweetling,

By the time you’re reading this, I expect that you had a wonderful evening. You got everything you ever wanted. The perfect dress. The perfect date. The crown. You have it all. And I’m happy for you. It may not look like it, but I am.

I know my behavior recently has been awful. Really, your little plan worked. I can’t stand to see you with anyone else but me. Ever since I set my eyes on you, you were mine even when you weren’t standing by my side. You are still mine.

You can throw this letter away. You can burn it. I don’t care, but the fact still stands. You’ve never felt the same about anyone. I know how you’re feeling. I see it on your face. Come find me.

Always Yours, Ramsay

There it was. The same beating in your heart you always felt was there. You let your smile stretch for miles. You bit your lip down as you turned to find Ramsay, but he was already there, watching you from the other corner of the deck. Smoke left his mouth and a smile remained afterwards.

You jumped into his arms as held you close to him. A firm kiss was placed your lips before you said anything at all. His hold on you was terrifying, but he was right.

You were his.

Ultimate Tag List (People who wished to be tagged in EVERY work I post.)

@angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen@sleepylunarwolf @loki-0fasgard

Ramsay Tag List (People who wish to be tagged in everything Ramsay Bolton related)

@boltonblade @why-so-red

If you wish to be added, removed, or switched from any taglists, only ask friend!

#perfect after party #perfect prom night #ramsay #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton modern au #ramsay snow #ramsay imagine #imagine ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #ramsay bolton/reader #got #got imagine #game of thrones

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atomheartz · 7 years

Text

Forgotten [ Lance Tucker x Fem!Reader One Shot ]

Summary: You put so much time and effort into your relationship with Lance, but he’s just too oblivious to his recent actions to see it. When you give him a wake up call, he finally realizes what he’s missed out on.

Word Count: 1809

Warnings: Angst, tiny bit of fluff, bit of swearing

Author Notes: This is my 300 follower special! Thanks to everyone for being so patient, since I promised this forever ago. Fair warning, I’m terrible at ending one shots. As always, my requests are open!

Tag List: @papi-chulo-bucky

She checked her watch again. 7:30. Then she leaned over to check the clock on the microwave, hoping her watch was just an hour fast. 7:30. With a sigh, [ Y/N ] slumped down in her seat, pushing away a now cold plate of eggplant Parmesan, her boyfriend’s favorite cheat day meal. And it just so happened that cheat day fell on their two year anniversary. Which he wasn’t home for. [ Y/N ] looked around her kitchen, a tingling feeling in her chest. But it was the kind of tingle that acted as a warning. Then her nose tingled. That meant she was about to cry. She took a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, but a single tear rolled down her cheek. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood, looking at the dinner in disgust before leaving the kitchen in a hurry. She ran upstairs as the tears started to fall and fell onto her bed, grabbing her pillow and cuddling it to her chest. It had been the fourth night in a row Lance had forgotten their plans, and [ Y/N ] was beginning to think he didn’t care. On Tuesday, they were supposed to go to a cookout, but Lance forgot to pick her up and went alone. On Wednesday, they were supposed to go to the movies, but Lance never showed up. On Thursday, they were going to the new art museum that had just been built, but he never met up with her, and she spent the day alone. She had thought that maybe he was just busy, planning something amazing for their anniversary, but she knew it was false hope.

“Why do I let these things happen?” she whispered against her pillow. Her stomach growled, but she was in no mood to eat. She would just let it go to waste, like her time spent on their relationship. It felt like she was the only one who cared anymore, and it made her stomach hurt. As she wiped her eyes and sniffled, she found herself getting up from the bed and grabbing her carry-on bag for vacations.

“If he doesn’t care anymore, why should I?” she muttered, and she started packing mindlessly. If this was how she was going to be treated, she wanted no part of it. She was lost in her thoughts, her brain was scrambled, and she didn’t know where she would go. Maybe she’d call an Uber and be out of there and at a friend’s house before he decided to show his sorry face. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did. She zipped up her bag and grabbed her phone from the nightstand, gripping it tightly. She then looked down at the bag and shook her head shoving it to the floor.

“You can’t just...leave. That’s stupid,” she scolded herself. She sat down on the edge of the bed, setting her phone beside her. Her hands went to her face as she started to cry. The tears were hot and angry, and she didn’t even hear the front door open and close downstairs. The creaking up the stairs didn’t register with her, and when she finally lifted her head up, with her blurry vision she could make out Lance in the doorway.

“[ Y/N ]? What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his gym bag down in the hallway before entering the room.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she snapped, turning away from him to wipe her eyes.

“Well...I asked, which means I do want to know,” he said before coming closer.

“That’s surprising. Lance Tucker actually cares about how someone else is feeling for a change. The world might just fucking explode!” she said, wiping her face angrily.

“[ Y/N ], would you just tell me what’s wrong? Now you’re just being overly dramatic,” Lance said, holding her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off and stood up, turning around to face him.

“You forgot me. Again. That’s the fourth fucking day in a row that you forgot about me. And on our anniversary, too!” she snapped, digging her nails into her palms. She watched as his face noticeably paled, and a kind of sick satisfaction coursed through her.

“Baby...angel...I’m so sorry….”

“Sorry you forgot, or sorry that I’m not gonna buy any of your bullshit excuses as to why you forgot?”

He stayed quiet, chewing on his bottom lip. [ Y/N ] crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at her boyfriend.

“So...what’s on the table….”

“Was our anniversary dinner. And the box sitting on your chair is your gift. Whether or not you care enough to open it is all up to you,” she said, her chest tingling.

“Gift? I didn’t...get you anything….”

“Because you forgot. I know. And I don’t care. Not anymore,” she said, grabbing her pillow, her pajamas, her teddy bear, and a blanket from the bed.

“I’m sleeping the in guest room tonight. You can stay here and think about what tonight could have been. And you can think about this: if you, Lance Tucker, aren’t gonna put any more effort into this relationship, then why the fuck should I?” she asked, tucking her things under her arms and walking by him without a word. Lance watched her go, flinching a bit as the door to the guest room slammed shut. He sighed shakily and left the bedroom, quietly making his way downstairs to the kitchen, spotting the brightly colored box on his seat. He walked over and took a closer look at the food on the table, his stomach growling as he recognized it as eggplant parm. It was probably stone cold, and he didn’t deserve to reheat a plate and eat without her. Instead, he grabbed a granola bar from the closet and unwrapped it before grabbing the box. A twinge of guilt flooded his chest as he went to lift the lid, and he saw a book inside. Taking a bite of his granola bar, and set the lid aside and pulled out the book, trailing his finger over the gold writing on the cover. The gold letters spelled out ‘happy two years’, and there was a large golden heart just below them. He opened it up and on the inside cover, in [ Y/N ]’s handwriting, was a small note.

‘A picture is worth a thousand words. That must mean your camera is your voice. And since I love your voice, there are thousands of words on these pages. Never stop talking, Lance.’

Tears filled his eyes as he began to flip through the pages. All of the photos were taken by him, and they were of various landscapes from his Olympic travels, the road trips he took with [ Y/N ], and just simple ones of the two of them, or even just her. There was one of her in front of his parent’s Christmas tree, standing proudly with her hands on her hips as if she’d decorated the whole thing herself. There was one of her lounging on a pool floatie in his friend’s pool the summer they started dating. There was one of a sandcastle they’d built last summer, and she had drawn a heart with their initials in it. On the last page of the book, it was a picture he’d managed to take on a New Year’s. With one arm stretched out with the camera, and the other around [ Y/N ]’s waist, he’d managed to get a picture of their kiss at midnight, the glow of the fireworks illuminating her face in white and blue. Under that picture, again in [ Y/N ]’s handwriting, was another note.

‘I hope you never stop using your voice, Lance. You’ve got thousands upon thousands of words to say, and I can’t wait to hear them all. I love you.’

Lance set the book down and blinked, letting two tears fall onto his lap. He took a shaky breath and stood, tossing the granola bar aside. He gripped the book tightly and made his way upstairs, jumping in surprise as [ Y/N ] came out of the guest room. When she saw the tears running down his face, she almost broke down herself, but willed herself to stay stoic and silent.

“[ Y/N ], I’m so sorry. I…. I don’t deserve you, the things you do for me, and you don’t deserve the shit you have to put up with. I’ve been a horrible partner, and you’ve done nothing but wait for me to get my shit straight. I made you cry, and that’s not something that should have ever happened, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. I don’t want to lose you, I want to make more memories with you, not constantly live in the ones we made, knowing we’ll never make any more. I want to share thousands of words with you, I need to share thousands of words with you. I need to have you in my life,” he whispered, his voice wavering. He came up the rest of the stairs and stood in front of her, his knuckles white from the grip he had on their memories. They were both silent for a few minutes, and [ Y/N ] let out a soft sigh.

“I accept your apology. And I’ve decided to stay. But, you need to promise me one thing, Lance,” [ Y/N ] said softly.

“Anything you want,” he said quickly, holding the book even tighter.

“I want you to clean up your act. I know people don’t change in a day. I’m not asking for that. I want you to put effort into this, into us. Only then will this work out. And we can continue to make memories, and I can keep putting thousands of your words into books,” she said, and he gently set the book down before hugging her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his middle and held him close, rubbing his back gently.

“All I wanted was an apology. Thank you,” she whispered, kissing his cheek gently.

“Will you come back to our room? I hate sleeping without you,” he whispered, and she nodded.

“Of course I will. All you had to do was ask. C’mon, let’s go cuddle and go through the album. I wanna know what you thought of it,” she said, smiling a bit. Lance nodded and picked up the book as [ Y/N ] gathered her things back up from the bed in the guest room.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, [ Y/N ]. And I’m sorry dinner went to waste. I’ll clean up the kitchen in the morning, I promise,” he said, and she smiled again.

“Thank you, Lance. You’re already stepping up. Three apologies in one day?” she teased, and he tugged her into their room.

“What can I say? I’m a fast learner.”

#lance tucker one shot #lance tucker #sebastian stan #sebby gotta go fast #sam writes #sam writes angst

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lunagalemaster · 7 years

Text

DP Fic Exchange

Here’s my fic for the fic exchange for @rainsart based on this piece (x). I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy! ^.^ (Btw, the timeline on this is vague.)

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“Danny, stop pacing. You’re going to make a hole in the floor.” Danny was snapped out of his pacing. He turned to Jazz who looked about thirty seconds away from throwing her book at him. Her fingers drummed against the side of the book, as one of her eyes actually twitched in irritation.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been pacing in the living room, but he was twitchy damn it.

He huffed and let his arms flop dramatically on top of the couch. “They’re late,” He bemoaned.

“People can be late.” Faux patience laced her voice.

“Sam isn’t!”

“And Tucker?”

“...Okay, but-”

Jazz slammed her book, making a move to stand up. “Danny,” Oh shit, she had on her mom voice. Danny already straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest before he even realized what he was doing. It seemed like she was going to go on lecture mode, but she stopped. She stared at him a moment, and after her eyes danced up and down his face, she let out a soft sigh and settled back down in her seat.

“Just, you’re over thinking this,” Jazz finally managed, “Sam had to pick up Tucker and you know how he’s always late for everything. I wouldn’t be surprised if they knock on that door in the next few minutes, bickering like they always do.”

Danny picked at the end of binder. It fit snuggly against his skin. It felt different from his usual binders, having been made water-proof for days at the pool. Like today. Where his friends were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago to go to the water park.

This would be the first time he went to a waterpark like this. Just in a binder and swim trunks. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous. It wasn’t like his friends really cared, but that small ‘what if’ always danced in the back of his head. It was stupid. He knew it was. But anxiety made you think stupid things that weren’t true, and it sucked.

Danny let out an irritated sigh, glaring at the ground. Where were Sam and Tucker? They could make him stop thinking stupid thoughts.

“Hello? Earth to Danny? You’re not an astronaut yet, little brother, so don’t space out on me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to clear his stupid thoughts. He was about to respond, but then he realized-

-Jazz had punned.

Danny eyed her, eyes a bit wide, growing wider at her smug look. She tried to look concerned, eyes attempting to look serious and mouth trying to stay stern. But he knew her better than that. Danny knew that little mischievous glimmer in her eyes, and as much as she as trying to, she couldn’t hide the slight twitching of her lips.

A smile curled on his face without permission, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “What if I need a little space?” He responded, moving towards her.

Her shrug was nonchalant but her eyes were challenging. “Then we’ll planet ‘round that.”

A laugh bubbled out of his throat. It was stupid but he loved it all the same. “Planet ‘round that.” He repeated with a snort. Danny flopped on the couch next to Jazz. “I’ve got to use that one.”

“Seriously, though.” She said, her tone anything but serious. “You’ll probably have to contact us at least once a month or Mom will go into space herself and drag you back.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.” But he could definitely imagine Mom going into space to make sure he was okay.

“Well, you’ll make it work.” She said with one last shrug, pulling out her book once more. “You’re a Fenton, after all. We can do strange things.” She didn’t expect him to respond, he had to think. Jazz simply went back to her book, ending the conversation on a light tone.

Danny couldn’t help but smile at the confidence she had him in. That he will make it to space. Maybe he could have, if it wasn’t for the whole hybrid thing, but now? He didn’t know, but he was pretty sure they didn’t take freaks into space.

It was a moment before Danny spoke again. “...You know Sam is probably the one holding them up.” He admitted. His voice was much quieter than he intended.

“Oh?” Jazz inquired not evening looking on from her book.

“Yeah.” Danny shifted to lay comfortably on the arm rest. “Tucker just gets his floaties and shorts and, bam!,” He gestured flippantly, “he’s good to go! Sam has to put on her sunglasses, her hat, and this weird cape thing.”

Jazz looked up incredulously, “She still has that?”

“Yep,” He said, laugh in his voice, “ She wants to look dark and mysterious, but in this heat?” He shook his head. As much as Sam wanted to look gothic, Danny worried more about her melting.

“Do you have water?”

Danny arched an eyebrow, “We’ll be at a waterpark.”

“Bottled water.”

Before Danny could come up with a snarky response, Danny heard something from outside. A second later, someone (or someones) was banging on the door, as two voices shouted to one another, their conversation too muffled to hear.

Danny stumbled out of his seat, smile wide on his face. “About time!” He shouted, not even bothering to open the door slowly. Sure enough, Sam and Tucker stood side by side. The two looked a bit startled by where Danny suddenly opened the door.

“Sorry, we’re late.” Sam said, “We were a bit caught up in preparations.”

“We?” Tucker asked, turning to face her, “You were the one who wanted to put on makeup. Makeup! At a pool!” Tucker gestured wildly towards Sam and sure enough, she was wearing bright purple lipstick, and if Danny looked close enough, a hint of eye shadow as well.

“It’s not like I’m actually planning to go into to the water.”

“Splashing!?”

She smirked, “Water proof.”

Tucker groaned in frustration, eying Danny despairingly. “You see what I have to put up with?”

Danny shrugged, smile twitching on his face. “It’s Sam. I didn’t really expect any less.”

As Sam laughed, Tucker groaned, sounding pained. “Why must I be the only normal one?”

“You’re associated with Danny. There’s no such thing as normal.” Jazz added from behind them. Sometime during that discussion,she managed to find three water bottles, a can of sunscreen, a couple towels, and a bag to fit it all in. As Jazz finished zipping up all the items, Danny tried to subtly move his friends out the door. With some skill that must be only given to moms and upperlevel classmen, she managed to stuff all the items in with one zip, hoist the bag on her shoulder, and stride up them before Danny could even close the door.

She perked up and before Danny could protest, shoving the bag his hands, “Since Mom and Dad are working down in the lab-”

“Jazz, we’re fine,” Danny said, cutting her off. “We don’t need all this.”

“I won’t have you three getting dehydrated or burnt.”

“Jaaaaazz,” Danny whined. He ignored his friend’s snickers.

“Daaaaaannyyyy,” Jazz mockingly whined back. He glared at her, but she only stood straighter and refused to let him leave the bag, smug look on her face.

His eyes darted to the bag and then back to Jazz. If he was smarter, he could have figured a way out of carry the thing, but she was watching him like a hawk and his friends were amused borderline restless. Finally, he sighed heavily in defeat. “Fine.”

Jazz clapped her hands together. “Great! Now you three have fun!”

“Jazz.”

“Don’t forget sunscreen!”

Danny started moving out the door. “Jazz, we’re leaving!”

“And remember to take breaks!” She called out, and he could just tell she was hounding him on purpose. “You don’t want to overexer-”

“Goodbye, Jazz!” Danny tried to escape her. He was close too. He almost got the door closed when she managed to catch it.

“Have fun!” Her voice overwhelmingly sugary sweet with that mom tone. He half expected her to get him a lunch box.

“Thanks, now go away!” He called back in the same tone.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she gave one last wave and went back indoors. As she disappeared, he let his shoulders slump and a heavy sigh out, turning back towards his friends. He couldn’t help but scowl at their cheeky expressions, and he hoped the blush on his face wasn’t too obvious.

“So, are we finally ready to go?” Sam asked, amusement clearly in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” He grumbled, “Let’s just get going.”

Tucker continued snickering behind his back. Rolling his eyes, Danny shoved the bag towards him, smirking at his yelp. “Since you seem so happy, why don’t you carry this?”

“No fair!” Tucker grumbled, “It’s your sister who gave it to you. Why don’t you carry it?”

“The bag goes much better with your water wings.”

“...does it?”

“For goodness sakes, here.” Sam grabbed the bag from Tucker and huffed it over her shoulder. “Let’s get a move on. I want to get there before noon, thank you.” She stomped off ahead of them, her dramatic bat cape billowing behind her.

“Hey wait up!” Tucker yelled out, as he awkwardly running to catch up with his floaties on.

Danny followed suit, huffing but smiling despite himself.

He had been stupid to worry. He really should have punched any gender dysphoria he had in the face the moment it started creeping up, but...it was difficult. His friends and family being there helped out. It helped a lot.

Later that day, Tucker wound comment on how well his binder fit him. Danny would blush, rub his neck, and be embarrassed, yet very, very pleased all the same. Sam would comment on how red his cheeks were, Tucker would tease him further, and then Danny would jump in the pool to get away from their wonderfully, stupid smiles.

All in all, it was a good day.

#danny phantom #dp fic exchange #trans danny #my royal written word #long fic #fluff #sam manson #tucker foley #danny fenton #jazz fenton #sibling fluff #friendship fluff #idk what else to tag this #i hope you enjoy! :d

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