#I AM ACTUALLY SO NOT LIKE NORMAL ABOUT HER

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (5)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: unrelated to this fic, trendwave sunghoon has me acting UP. but also when am i not when it comes to him…my bf fr

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: an incredible amount of sexual tension & fingering.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Sunghoon’s fingers brushing the hair from your eyes. The second is the warmth of his hand. 

It startles you to see him sitting on the edge of the bed and so close to you. He chuckles at your reaction and watches you gather yourself when you remember you awoke in his guest bedroom and not your own. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” 

Even his morning voice sounds like Heaven with how deep and sultry it is. You blink the sleep away from your eyes and Sunghoon continues to cradle your face as you adjust to the morning light peeking through the window. 

“What time is it?”

“A little past six. How’d you sleep?” 

You nuzzle against his palm and close your eyes. You miss the way he smiles down at you. “Really well, actually. You rich people have this sleeping shit figured out.”

He caresses you again. “You snore like a little kitten.”

“I don’t snore.” 

“Yes, love. You do.” You ignore him, and you ignore the pet name. 

“We have to get to work, don’t we? I don’t have an extra outfit and I don’t feel like showing up in the clothes I wore yesterday.” 

“We’ll stop by your apartment before going to work.”

You make a face. “We’ll be late.”

“I’m the boss,” he says. “I can tell you when to come in.” 

“Oh? This is a first for you.” 

“You need to take care of Pochi too, don’t you?”

“Hm. You’re right. I do miss my cat.” 

Sunghoon bends down and kisses you like he’s done this a thousand times before. He’s slow with it, moving his lips in tandem with you until you’ve truly registered that he’s kissing you. It’s a new sensation. It’s weird, neither good nor bad, just different. Sunghoon’s breath is minty and when you pull away, you’re surprised when he lets out a small whine.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you tell him when he leans in for another kiss. Your arms brace his shoulders and you try to keep him at bay. He doesn’t seem to care, though, and steals another kiss from you. 

“You think I care about that?” Another kiss. Your cheeks heat up. 

“I dunno. I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Kiss your boss and wake up in his arms?” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, pushing him away while he laughs. “Dumbass. I haven’t kissed anybody in a long time.” 

“You’re doing just fine.” 

Looking at him makes your heart race for more reasons than one. Sunghoon is absolutely gorgeous from this angle, especially when he’s wearing casual clothes and sporting hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed. He looks painfully normal instead of the high-demanding businessman you know him to be. Sunghoon looks almost approachable like this. If the two of you met under different circumstances, you might’ve gathered the courage to ask him out. 

On the other hand, there aren’t many times you can say you’ve awoken in a man’s guest bedroom with gentle kisses being pressed upon your face. It’s the first time anybody has ever woken you up like this, and it took a great deal not to immediately panic and push him away. It’s scary how nice being doted on feels, and you’ve only gotten a little taste of it with Sunghoon kissing you as soon as you awoke. 

This feels different than what you’re used to. Typically, Pochi makes her way to your face and nuzzles her own between your neck, the outside construction prevents you from falling back asleep when you're able to sleep in, and you usually wake up alone. What you’re not used to, however, is Sunghoon looking at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. The idea that anybody could look at you like that is alarming and unfamiliar.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he says before bending down to touch your lips with his. “I can hear that little brain of yours working so hard.”

“My brain isn’t little.” He smiles against your mouth and gives your lips a peck. 

“Mm. Definitely not. My smart girl. I can still hear you thinking, though.” Sunghoon’s hand touches your outer thigh and it sends a shiver up your body. 

“Oh yeah? What am I thinking about?”

“How we’ll be late if we don’t leave in thirty minutes. You’re probably thinking about what clothes you have left in your closet and if Pochi ate breakfast.” 

“…Am I that predictable?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head and moves his hand up your thigh. “I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two after knowing you all these years. You’re not the only one who observes, you know.” 

“Hmph.”

“Relax for me, okay?” He brings his other hand up to your cheekbone and caresses that spot. “I’m not in a rush. We don’t have meetings or anything important on my docket today.”

“You looked at my calendar, didn’t you?” 

He grins. “Might’ve taken a peek. It’s connected to mine anyway.” 

Sunghoon’s blankets are keeping you warm and toasty, and his touch feels like you’re being lulled to sleep. You find yourself at odds with the idea that Sunghoon could convince you to relax at this hour, especially when you have to stop by your apartment before going into the office. It’s not like anyone would notice either. Sunghoon’s colleagues are in and out of the building all day, some of whom don’t show up until late morning or early afternoon on account of personal business. You aren’t worried about what other assistants might think either, as you’re the assistant who has been there the longest. With the hierarchy system in place, it’s more believable that you’re in business with Sunghoon than being in bed with him.

Yet, some part of you doesn’t like that you’re breaking the routine you’ve built over the years. You’ve never spent the night at anyone’s place, much less on a weekday, and you don’t enjoy the fact that you haven’t seen Pochi. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten my promise,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your cycle of thoughts. He’s perched on the side of the bed with his elbow resting comfortable on the pillows and you look at him quizzically.

“What promise?” 

The look he gives you is akin to the way he looked at you last night. Suddenly, the memory of his hard dick straining against his sweatpants comes to mind. You’ve been so distracted by Sunghoon’s lips and sweet talking that you nearly forgot about the way he felt in between your legs. Sure, the fabric of your clothes acted as a barrier, but nothing could ever hide the way his dick felt pressed right against your covered cunt. 

Sunghoon leans down close to your ear like he’s trying to tell you a secret. You feel his breath touch the shell of your ear and that alone is enough to make you squirm. He must know, and you can tell by the way Sunghoon digs his fingertips into your skin just a little.

“I told you I’d make you cum today. Will you let me?”

Your mouth runs dry. You look up at Sunghoon and there’s nothing humorous about the way he’s watching you. His eyes are a deep shade of brown that stare directly into yours like he’s trying to hold himself back from being too hasty. It’s almost alarming that he’s being so forward with you at this moment. There’s not a hint of shyness that you can detect, unlike how you feel with your heart beating too fast and your uneven breath. 

Would it be so bad to indulge yourself in his request? It’s not like you’re getting any action beyond the quiet of your bedroom or with the only vibrator you bought yourself after a short stint of bad sex. The fact that he’s your boss is out the window. You know what his dickprint feels like and you’ve practically memorized the way his lips feel when they’re pressed against yours. There shouldn’t be any harm in letting Sunghoon pleasure you when that’s all he seems to want. 

Sunghoon watches you spread your legs from underneath the covers and grins to himself. He helps push the comforter off just enough to expose your legs to him. 

“Can I take these off?” he asks, fingers removing themselves from your thigh to the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing. He traces the hem and you suck in your stomach at the feeling of his hand being so close to where you crave him the most. 

You consent quietly because of the intensity of his gaze. He looks like he’s moments away from devouring you whole, like a boa constrictor who’s locked eyes on its prey. The shorts come off and he tosses them behind him, and you try not to care that he’s haphazardly throwing clothes he’s taken off of your body to focus on the moment. 

Like an instinct, you close your legs when you realize you’re only wearing underwear. They’re plain black cotton, nothing exceptionally fancy since you didn’t plan on having anyone see them. Sunghoon doesn’t rush hastily. He slips his large, warm hand between your knees and slowly guides himself up your legs until your body starts to relax. 

He must feel how nervous you are. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the lack of intimacy you’ve received in the past couple of years. It’s like your body locks on itself at this foreign sensation of somebody else’s hand on your body, even if it’s consensual and yearned for. 

He doesn’t rush, nor does he immediately push his hand towards your covered cunt. Sunghoon bends down to capture your mouth in a slow kiss, his plump lips pushing against yours like he’s trying to talk to you with his body. You’re not sure what to focus on—how smooth his hands are or how wet your mouth is becoming—but it all feels so good. For somebody who is as touch deprived as you are, it feels like a million sensations all at once. 

Sunghoon moves up the expanse of your thigh when your body starts to relax against him. Whether it be the sound of your lips smacking echoing through the room or getting used to his hands, your legs start to part before him. Sunghoon doesn’t break the kiss like you think he will. His palm slides up your leg until the edge of his fingers barely brush against your panties, and that alone is enough to make you gasp against his lips. 

“Want me there?” he asks through the kiss. “Need me there?” 

You can barely pay attention to his words when his hand is hovering above you. Sunghoon’s fingers trace the outline of your covered cunt and his seductive caress makes you squirm and buck your hips with every passing touch. When you manage to nod, he rubs you with the pads of his finger. 

Sunghoon’s touch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s determined, almost like he’s got a mission he needs to complete. His fingers aren’t hesitant and scared to touch you like men from your past. Sunghoon’s touch is calculated and meaningful. He’s urgent about it, but unlike all the times you’ve had sex before, this doesn’t feel like he’s trying to get you off as quickly as possible before he gets his turn. 

Instead, it feels like Sunghoon might be as desperate as you are. He keeps a cool exterior for the most part and doesn’t allow others to see him let go of himself completely. You’ve been around him long enough to see cracks in his office persona, but Sunghoon maintains an air of professionalism when he’s not asking you to help him in his personal life, which doesn’t happen as often as people think it does. 

He brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit and it has your hips bucking by his touch. You’re embarrassed by how much he’s turning you on, and he hasn’t done anything yet. Are you that depraved? 

Before you know it, Sunghoon’s hand covers the entirety of your cunt. You marvel at how big his hands are and ask yourself why you’ve never noticed them before. He’s got his expensive black plated watch with silver accent on, the one he wears everyday without fail, and you tense. Something about Sunghoon’s accessory puts you in a frenzy. 

“You’re so worked up,” he says with a short laugh. “When’s the last time you relaxed?” 

“I don’t relax.” 

He tuts. “That’s your first problem. You don’t let go.” 

Well, it’s hard with so little time and too many obligations. Sunghoon probably knows it too, but that won’t stop him from reprimanding you for pushing yourself past your limit. 

“God, you’re so wet already. I can feel you through your panties.” His words nearly have you choking. Since when is Sunghoon bold like this? Is he like this with other girls, too?

Sunghoon pushes them aside and eyes your bare cunt. It makes you feel shy, which isn’t something you feel very often when you’re with him. But at this moment, you feel like you’re out to gain some kind of approval from him because he’s looking at it like he’s trying to inspect it. Knowing you didn’t prepare yourself for him to look at your naked lap makes you feel somewhat awkward and unprepared, but Sunghoon looks like he couldn’t care less. You pulsate around him and he groans quietly when he notices.

“That’s so good,” Sunghoon mutters as the tips of his fingers slide down your entrance, coating himself in your wet slick. The subtle intrusion makes your head spin. “Do you always get this wet?”

“W-Well, it’s been a long time since anyone touched me the way you are.” 

He grins. “Do your fingers not work?” 

“Sunghoon. This is so embarrassing.” You try to cover your face with a spare pillow, but he laughs and tosses it away from you.

“Surely my fingers will do the job. Yours are so much smaller and shorter than mine.” 

Sunghoon pushes his middle finger into you and stops when it’s half way inside. He watches you from where he sits and watches your breath hitch by how your chest has nearly stilled. 

You don’t protest nor push him away and he takes it as a sign to push his finger deeper. Sunghoon feels your smooth walls envelop him the more he maneuvers his finger in and out of your pussy, and you don’t know if you love or hate the way Sunghoon is smiling down at you. It’s like he knows he’s got you underneath his spell when he’s got you acting like this. 

“Doing so well,” Sunghoon mumbles, tongue licking the corners of his mouth as he salivates at the sight before him. His abdomen tenses and his dick swells in his pants. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me.” 

Your face warms up when he talks about your cunt like that. But it makes you gush even more, and it starts to splash onto Sunghoon’s wrist the more he thrusts into you. 

He adds another finger and cherishes the deep, loud moan that comes from deep within your chest. Your hands brace his free arm when he picks up the pace until the entire room sounds like plat plat plat. Sunghoon expertly curves his finger until he’s reaching parts of you that you’ve always thought to be unreachable. 

His forehead starts to sweat and his arm flexes. Every vein in his arm comes to your view and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers when you truly notice how well-built Sunghoon is. He’s got muscles and biceps that make you wonder what it would be like for him to pin you underneath his body. 

“Shit,” you curse. “C-Can’t believe you’re good at this.” 

He smiles wickedly. “I’m good at everything, aren’t I?” 

“Not good at checking your texts. Not good at that.” You yelp when Sunghoon thrusts his fingers inside of you at a faster speed. It’s pushing you towards your orgasm the more he moves.

“What was that?” he asks with his ear turned towards you as you gasp for air. “What did you say?”

“Not good at texting.” You manage to say it between harsh breaths but it seems to egg him on even more. Sunghoon pushes his hand harder against you until the heel of his palm rubs against your clit.

“Not good at texting? Who says I need to text you, anyway?”

“I do,” you choke, holding onto his arm as your nails dig crescents into his skin. “You need me.” 

“I need you?” His fingers don’t let up. You nod anyway.

“Brat,” Sunghoon mocks. “But you’re right. I do need you.” 

The way you clench around him makes him yearn to see you come undone like the beautiful mess he knows you can be. His hand aches from fingering you at lightning speed, but he’ll be damned if he stops now.

“Need you to cum more than anything,” he says while chuckling. “I need that.” 

Sunghoon says it halfway between desperation and with arrogance like he knows he’ll get what he wants. He knows you won’t fight him on it either because he knows how badly you want to cum. If not by the way you grip his body, then because you’ve mentioned how many times people have left you high and dry over the past few years. It seems unfair to edge you right now.

It doesn’t take much for you to crash. He stills his fingers when he realizes you’ve come to your orgasm, letting your hips rut against his palm as you chase your high. Coming undone before him is a beautiful sight to see and Sunghoon drinks in the way your hands move from his arm to the bedsheets underneath you. You try to grip onto them for stability as your hips grind against his hand while you finish on him. 

When your eyes open, the room has gotten significantly lighter from the sun peeking through the sheer curtains. Sunghoon has made you forget about the time. You push your head up and pucker your lips for a kiss. He gives into your request right away and gently rubs your aching cunt, pushing your panties where they belong before kissing and touching you slowly.  

“You’re so hot when you cum.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter against his kisses.

“Nuh uh. Just you.” 

“Mhm. I’ll believe that for now.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t get up until he’s sure you’ve returned to a state of consciousness and doesn’t leave your side until you sit up by yourself. He keeps his mouth attached to you while you steady your breath and find it in you not to feel completely mortified that you’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of him. He doesn’t seem to hear your racing thoughts when you’re kissing him, and you feel your worries ebbing away. You don’t think you’re ready to decipher why that is.

He brings a rag soaked with warm water and pries your legs open with little resistance. Sunghoon gently wipes your inner thigh and pulls your panties aside again, cleaning your cum from your skin. This makes you feel more self conscious compared to his fingers rooted deep inside of you, but you try not to look away. Sunghoon looks calm and focused, like he’s getting paid a lot of money to look after you. He spends a bit of time making sure you’re all cleaned up before throwing the rag in an empty hamper. 

“Let’s get going, hm?” Sunghoon says absentmindedly when you stand from the bed. He doesn’t make a fuss about his dick straining in his sweatpants and steps out of the room before you can even think about returning the favor. Sunghoon moves around his house like you’ve been there a million times before. 

“We still need to go to your place. Is there a café by your place that you like? We can stop for breakfast before heading into the office.” 

His nonchalance pleasantly surprises you. But you think you prefer his attentive care over being left alone in bed to deal with the aftermath of feeling alone once your partner has left the room. Sunghoon doesn’t leave until he’s sure you’re walking behind him.

It’s nice.

***

Nabi texts you just before you and Sunghoon leave his place to lets you know Pochi is back in your apartment with breakfast and a new bowl of water, and attached a cute video of Pochi jumping onto bee favorite spot on your couch. It makes you coo out loud, to which Sunghoon laughs at.

“You really love this cat, don’t you?”

“Pochi is my child, Sunghoon. Of course I love her.” 

“When did you adopt her?”

“The third year I worked for you.” You’re stuck between looking at him and the scenery outside as he drives to your apartment. “I was pretty lonely after a bunch of my friends moved away from Seoul. My little brother has always told me I resemble a cat growing up and suggested I get one.” 

“Sunoo, right?”

“Yeah. It’s funny though. When we were younger, our personalities were completely switched. I was the extrovert and he was the introvert. Seems like we changed over time.” 

“Why does he think you’re like a cat?”

“I don’t like being around people very much and it’s hard for me to open up to strangers. He jokes that I have to be the one to warm up to people before anyone can really get to know me.” 

“So, what, you need people to leave you alone before you decide you like them?”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“That’s funny. I think I’d describe you as a lion.” 

“A lion?”

“Still a cat, just more powerful. You run the hell out of my inbox.” 

You roll your eyes. “Haha. So funny, Sunghoon.”

“I’m serious! You’re so good with meeting new people and getting them under your fold. I would’ve never assumed you don’t like being around people with how good you are at making connections.” 

“It’s for work, though. I turn on the charm because it’s good for business. At the end of the day, we all use each other just a little bit. In my personal life? I guess I can make a friend or two, but there’s never any time to meet new people.”

“This job eats you alive, doesn’t it? I feel the same way sometimes.” 

“It’s fun and it makes my week interesting. I’ll give it that.”

“It’s time for something new, huh?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Sunghoon swallows the unwanted feelings that creep into his mind. 

“How do I get your cat to like me?” he asks suddenly. 

“My cat?” 

“Yup. Who else?”

“Why do you want to get in her good graces?” 

“I don’t want to get mauled when I meet her for the first time.” 

You laugh. “You won’t get mauled, Sunghoon. She’s pretty shy and it takes her some time to get to know new people.” 

“Sounds just like you.” 

“Mhm. We’re twins.” 

“Seriously, though,” he says, glancing at you. “I’ve never been around cats much. My parents are dog people. How do I get a cat to like me and not spook them?” 

“Well, your best bet is to ignore their existence until they come up to you. They’re a hunting breed, you know. You shouldn’t make any sudden movements if you can help it. If you find yourself making eye contact with Pochi, blink slowly. It lets her know you aren’t a threat.” 

“Ignore your cat?”

“Foolproof way to get her to be okay with you in the room if I’m not there.” 

“It sounds like you’re trying to set me up.”

You gasp. “Why the hell would I do that?” 

“I don’t know!” Sunghoon says with humor. “Maybe you’re trying to get back at me for all the years we’ve worked together. You and Pochi could’ve made an alliance to kill me.” 

“Right,” you say sarcastically. “Me and my domesticated cat want to put a hit out on you, even though she’s a fraction of your size and I’m trying to help you find a new assistant.”

“Exactly. See? You’re following my logic.”

“You’re so stupid.” 

Sunghoon pulls up to your complex and parks his car on the street underneath a large tree. You make a split second decision and invite him up to your apartment so he doesn’t have to wait in the car and waste his gas by keeping the engine on to avoid sitting in the frigid air. He doesn’t make a joke like you think he will, especially since Sunghoon made you come an hour ago. Instead, he nods and follows you through the front door. 

The journey to your third floor apartment is nerve wracking. Is your apartment tidy enough? Is it clean? Is there any lingering dust that Sunghoon will notice? His house is far cleaner than your apartment will ever be, and while you pride yourself on keeping a tidy home, your two hands are no competition for the cleaning crew Sunghoon hires every week.

He seems excited enough. Sunghoon fills the silence by vocalizing his observations and particularly likes that your lobby has a state-of-the-art machine that can prepare coffee and espresso in various different ways. He likes that the mailroom is safeguarded by a touch key entrance and likes how the lobby is decorated. 

When the two of you arrive at your apartment, you hear Pochi meowing from the other side of the door. To your pleasure, your space isn’t as messy as you thought it might be, save for the throw blanket you forgot to fold after watching an episode of Castlevania. Pochi jumps down from the armrest and waddles her way to your feet when Sunghoon enters your apartment and closes the door behind him. 

You’re too busy locking the door and crouching down to sift your hand through her soft fur to notice Sunghoon surveilling your apartment like he’s in a museum. He sees your dark green couch and all of the decor you have in frames. The living room is far smaller than his, but he thinks it represents who you are perfectly. 

“I missed you, baby,” you say as Sunghoon looks down to where your body is and takes off his shoes one by one while Pochi rubs her small body against your ankles. You’re cute when you talk like that. 

“Why’d you name her ‘Pochi’?” he asks when you make your way deeper inside of your apartment. He watches you throw your jacket on the back of the couch while Pochi follows and climbs up the piece of furniture to get closer to you. 

“Pochi means ‘spot’ in Japanese,” you tell him. “You see these spots on her ears? I thought she looked so cute and unique when I saw her at the animal shelter. We bonded pretty quickly and I would always kiss both of her ears when we were first getting to know each other. She gets annoyed if I don’t kiss both of them and only one.”

“Really?” 

“Mhm. Watch.” 

Your lips come to touch her ear. You pull back soon after and Sunghoon watches Pochi sit back and watch you with the other side of her head like she’s waiting for the other kiss. When you don’t move to complete the routine, Pochi meows until you relent and kiss her other ear too. 

“She’s so cute. Pochi might as well be my daughter with how well she listens to me.” 

“You’d look cute with a girl.”

You look at Sunghoon, bewildered. 

“You’re certifiably crazy, Park Sunghoon.” 

He just shrugs. “I’m just saying.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Let me change my clothes and put some makeup on, then we can head out. Make yourself at home. It shouldn't be more than ten minutes.” 

When you disappear, Sunghoon hears the faint click of your bedroom door and walks to your couch to sit. He can hear you walking in your room in the dead silence of the morning when Pochi looks at him like she’s trying to figure out if he’s a threat or not. He follows your instructions when she tilts her head and looks away from her. 

Sunghoon notices pictures that line your fireplace. He doesn’t recognize anybody except for you, but adores the way he can see how much you’ve grown up. There are pictures of you and your childhood friends together, one of you he assumes is on vacation, and a few of you and your college friends littered throughout your space. It makes him realize there’s more to you than meets the eye, and for as long as he’s known you, Sunghoon gets the feeling he’s only scratched the surface.

He also tries not to think about the fact that his hands know what you feel like. Flashes of the early morning run through his mind. He loves the way you sound when you’re about to climax and had to keep himself in check before he made any rash decisions that the two of you would later regret. Sunghoon shifts in his seat and does his best to will his yearning because the last thing he wants is to sport a boner around Pochi, just for you to walk out and see him like that. What would you think of him then?

From the corner of Sunghoon’s eye, he sees Pochi grooming herself and tries to blink slowly when she makes eye contact with him. He feels silly and looks away when he starts to laugh at himself. In all of his years working with you, Sunghoon never thought he’d be playing nice with your cat. 

You emerge from your bedroom looking polished, and Sunghoon is impressed you were able to pull yourself together in fifteen minutes.  

“How do I look? Presentable enough?”

His eyes glance up and down your body. 

“Stunning as ever.” 

“Be serious, Sunghoon.” 

He walks to you and puts both of his hands on your hips, dragging them down to your waist before pulling your body flush against his.

“I’m serious. So gorgeous.” 

He learns in and slots his lips between yours, gently holding your body against himself. You get lost in it too, recalling the way Sunghoon’s fingers felt inside of you as he squeezes your body. The familiar ache emerges before you can even think about it, and you find yourself clenching against absolutely nothing. You think you’re somewhere between desperate and pathetic at this point, but Sunghoon can’t see or feel you down there for you to give a shit. 

“We should get breakfast,” you mumble against his mouth. 

“We should.” He doesn’t stop kissing you and your hands come to gently grip the lapel of his suit jacket. 

“There’s a place around the corner. Killer croissants and good espresso.” 

“Mhm.” Sunghoon pulls your arms away from his body to turn you around and press your ass right against his crotch, effectively caging you against his body while his lips litter short kisses down your neck. “Could eat you for breakfast, though.”

The moan that escapes your throat makes you feel embarrassed, but it makes Sunghoon’s pride swell. 

“W-Work,” you choke out as Sunghoon’s hand touches you above your work trousers. His fingers make out the ridges of your folds and slots his index finger between them. “We need to get to work.” 

“You’re no fun.” Sunghoon pouts and lets you go, but not without giving your cheek a kiss. 

“You are such a fucking menace,” you say as you scold him. “In front of Pochi too?” 

“She wasn’t even looking. Relax.” 

You look and find that Pochi is indeed nowhere to be found. She’s perched on the windowsill behind your curtain and you breathe a short sigh of relief. 

“Did you make nice with her?” 

“I ignored her, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Good,” you say with a definite nod. “She’ll like you in no time.” 

“I’m not so sure about that? It feels counterintuitive to ignore an animal if you want them to get to like you.”

“Cats and dogs are different, though.” You unlock your door and slip your shoes on at the same time after you’ve double checked that everything you need is in your work bag. “Dogs need love and affection all the time. Cats pick and choose when they want to receive it.” 

“Is that why your brother calls you a cat? Because you’re picky about all the people you let into your life?” 

He follows you out and watches you lock the door. 

“Mhm. I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I didn’t want you to.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Don’t think you’re special just because you’re my boss, Park. Keep up.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

***

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[vanilleandclove]

we’re chained; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader 

in your twenties you took a chance at the brooding attending in the emergency department despite your modus operandi of never bringing your personal life into your career. luckily, jack abbot doesn’t either. only until that becomes a problem. key moments in your relationship with mr. jack abbot.

warnings: soft and filthy smut, crying during/ after sex, ptsd, arguments about state of relationship (this is based on an actual convo i had with a man lol), angst, heather and robby situationship, reader has a sister, alcohol consumption- covid, death, anti-vaxx views mentioned, I AM A DOC MARTENS BEX CONNOISSEUR- i hiked in them, trump is unfortunately canon, age gap: reader is mid 20s, jack early 40s. word count: 5.3k notes: situationships are my version of vietnam, listen to solo by frank ocean and hey by the pixies. oh they are so every breath you take by the police. also the reader is canonically a millennial mb.

prologue to how to disappear & white mustang - thank you anon

august 20, 2015

“Doctor L/n, how do you treat compartment syndrome?” a voice pulled you out of your thoughts, severely regretting the only four hours of sleep given to you and shots of tequila with a girl you met at a bar down the street from your apartment.

“Fasciotomy with ortho consulting” you answered, the bright white LED lights did nothing to remedy the pounding headache.

“Half correct, do you know why?” Doctor Adamson instigated, he was the senior attending for Pittsburgh Trauma, after seeing the look on your face and four of your colleagues, he chose to answer himself “Trauma surgeons are the bottom of the food chain, work far more hours, earn less, specialize in all- if you’re lucky, you’ll get a consult, other than that, you’re on your own” his eyes bore into you, “Now, Doctor Greene is the surgical mentor for prospective trauma surgeons, he works with me, throughout your residency you will rotate through every specialty, remember, residents do not specialize. You change your path at any time, usually trauma only gets and accepts one fellow. Since you’re getting a taste of trauma today, your attendings are Doctor Robinavitch and Doctor Abbot, they’ve been attendings for a bit, they rule in my stead” Adamson continued on, “Your shift starts now and ends in 12 hours, best of luck”.

“Chopra and L/n, you’re with me, Sawyer and Tate, you’re with Doctor Robby” Doctor Abbot read off a chart, you and Amina Chopra were the only women in the residency program for both physician and surgical- at least first year wise. 

“Jesus it’s like they hire based on looks” Amina turned to you with a smile on her face, “John Hopkins, you?”.

“Boston U” you answered, walking up to Doctor Abbot with her. 

“Normally they don’t hand off surgery to us, last week we had the new interns and med students- it was a bit chaotic but since you’re both surgical junkies, I’ll guess you’re used to it” Doctor Abbot explained, “Also, best of luck to you two, upstairs is nothing but a sausage fest”.

Amina laughed a little too prolonged and loud, “Amina Chopra, graduated top 30 at John Hopkins, interned at University of Maryland” she blurted, her eyelashes fluttering.

Doctor Abbot spared a confused glance, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, “And you?” pointing his pen to you.

“Y/n L/n, dual-enrolled in medical school during undergrad at Boston University, interned at Mass-Gen” you confessed, only gaining an impressed look from both of them.

“Explains why your file says 23” Doctor Abbot responded, “Okay, this is Bridget, our charge nurse, she’s filling in for Dana who’s on maternity leave” he pointed as Bridget lightly waved with the phone tucked in her shoulder.

“Stabbing victims from a domestic dispute 6 minutes out” Bridget told him.

“Alright, trauma rooms are usually always available, boarding isn’t as common here unless there’s a holiday or Steelers game” he explained, “Your best friend is going to be these” Doctor Abbot pulled a pair of blades from his front pocket “I carry extra 11 and 15 blades, y’never know when shit is going to hit the fan”.

That was your first impression of Jack Abbot. His first impressed impression of you was when you were the only one who stopped a bleeder in the trauma room, the blood coated your gown and Amina’s face, you took charge of the trauma room as most just stood there.

Then came the nickname, Rambo. 

october 20, 2015

“Do you know Pixies Doctor Abbot?” you broke the ice as you walked side by side, the cold air Pittsburgh and your lack of a sweater but mediocre layering did not provide the warmth needed. Your nipples became painfully erect and the slightest graze would bring both pleasure and pain.

“Okay one, we’re off clock just call me Jack” he chuckled, “Secondly of course your Mass-ass would ask that, thirdly, how old do you think I am?” he continued to joke.

The low-rise, tight, dark wash, denim jeans and the long sleeve undershirt with a tight fit short sleeve paired with black Doc Martens Bex shoes intrigued Jack as the past months he’s only seen you in black scrubs and sneakers- or your Bexs, like today. As did the navy blue loose shirt and light wash denim intrigued you. His camouflage backpack slung over his shoulder and your black Jansport knocked each other every other move.

“Okay… favorite song?” you asked, as you both stopped at an ice cream parlor just down the street from your apartment and Jack’s house that was a few blocks further.

“Hey” he answered, “Yours?”.

“Where Is My Mind” you responded, “Favorite band?”. You stared in his eyes as you waited for a response, a group of teenagers were in front of you both ordering.

“Pearl Jam”.

“Spoken like a true old man” you smiled, “Favorite Pearl Jam song?”.

“Uh uh, what’s your favorite band Rambo?”.

“Alice in Chains, my dad bought the Dirt CD when I was born” you answered, “Now?”.

“Trick question, it’s in between Last Kiss or Elderly Woman” he answered, his eyes not leaving yours, just in time for you both to order.

“How can I help you guys today?” the server asked, a smile on her face.

“May I get a double scoop on a cone of rocky road?” you asked, moving over for Jack.

“I’ll take a double scoop on a cone too with pistachio cream and pecan delight please” he answered as he scooted to pay, giving the girl a 10 dollar tip in cash- she almost refused before he insisted.

You continued your walk, the ice cream melting as you walked on. Your nose was cold and red beneath your makeup, you felt it become wet from the temperature. Jack laughed as you raced against the clock to finish your double scoop. 

The pizza place next door to your apartment had music playing as couples and families sat together both inside and outside, the song was almost coincidental, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter In a Small Town by Pearl Jam. You smiled, wondering as Jack noticed.

“I guess today’s working in your favor” you looked up at him as he discarded the napkin in his hand. You came to a halt, selfishly wanting to spend more time with him. 

He lightly smiled, “I guess so” you both stared into each other’s eyes as Eddie Vedder’s voice sang in the background, you didn’t dare to blink, fearing he’d disappear. 

You breath sped up as your heart raced, the cold freezing your hands but Jack’s warmth radiated off of him. A human furnace. You licked your lips as if it was a hint, a hint he gladly took as his hand went up to your cheek to move your hair out of the way, wiping the residue of rocky road from the corner of your lip. His thumb lightly grazed your bottom lip as you internally pleaded for him to take action.

It was instant, as if you were magnetic. A beautiful collision to a supernova, as your lips collided and fought for dominance, you quickly surrendered. 

“Come up with me” you whispered against his lips, he held you by your back. He exhaled deeply, craving you.

It took five minutes to get to your unit and crash on your couch with him, you were on top of him, legs on both sides of his waist as his hands found purchase underneath your shirts. 

“Do you have a condom?” you asked in between kisses, Jack nodded against your lips as he unclipped your bra, his thumbs grazing your hard nipples, gaining a moan from you.

“Are you sure you want this?”.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re getting at” you backed up, grabbing the lower hem of your shirts to take off, shrugging your bra off with it and throwing them across your small living you, the look on Jack’s face was one of hunger. “Why?”.

“You can always back out if you want” he told you, groping your tits once more as he pulled you down to suck on your nipples. He felt the clench of your pussy through his jeans as his leg and prosthetic supported you. 

You backed away in order to take off his shirt, revealing his sculpted body and freckled, scarred skin. Tales of war and life littered his torso, you only got more and more turned on from seeing him beneath you. You moved off in order to take off your jeans, the denim sticking to your skin. Jack sat up, taking your hips into his hands as he looked at your thin cotton panties, and the damp spot that formed. He kissed your navel, hipbones and thighs, purposely withholding your aching pussy. Your hands found their way to his curled brunette- a tad ginger hair that had a few greys peaking in, squeezing his nape as his mouth covered your pussy over your panties. 

Moans flower out of your mouth as instinct, pulling at the loose curls in the back of Jack’s head, earning a groan from him. His fingers crawled up to the hem of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your glistening lips. He looked back up to you, your eyes watering from the tiniest amount of pleasure his tongue gave you. He stood up, jeans still on his body as his cock strained against the denim. Your hand cupping him, a smirk gathered on your face.

You walked him to your bedroom that overlooked the sidewalk, you drew your curtains before sitting down on the edge of your bed. You undid his belt, just about to pull his jeans down, his hand stopped you. A wave of insecurity followed upon Jack as his prosthetic got caught on the denim, he shook it off as he proceeded to take off his jeans, slinging them on the floor with his foot. His briefs revealed the hard-on you had given him, his hands going to take it off once more. Your legs screwed shut in a mix of fear and sexual frustration. 

Jack’s bigger than the other men you have taken. Way bigger. Girth wise you almost prayed in solidarity for your vagina.

“You okay?” he breathed, gaining a nod from you, his hand cupped your cheek, angling your head up, “Say it”.

“I’m okay” you answered, you were hungry, feverish even.

He satiated your thirst and hunger, again and again. Not a care for your neighbors, your bedsheets, your apartment that smelt like candle wax that drizzled down your bodies, the sun that peaked through in the morning as he took his leave while you slept.

Leaving you confused with a significant ache between your thighs and knees.

october 31, 2015

Jane Doe was all you could get from the 29 year old woman who was hit by a drunk driver at an intersection, it was 10 pm and already overtime. Except you were the one who volunteered to be oncall last week. 

You were stubborn she could be brought back even despite her organs failing. She was the same age as your sister.

“L/n it’s a lost cause, step aside” Abbot’s stern voice broke through your ears as you kept on resuscitating the young Jane Doe, “Doctor L/n step down” he pressed further, attempting to grab your hand to pull you off only to be elbowed in the nose. Your ears kept ringing and you couldn’t differentiate the flatline from the minor tinnitus, “Fuck” he groaned, just before he locked your arms above your head.

The flatline blared out in the room as it was just you, Jack, and Jane Doe, your face red with anger and resentment, just as red as the blood that gushed out of Jack’s nose. Jack reached over above your head to trigger the alarms to silence, you were the first to make a sound, a sucked in breath followed by a light wail.

Was it the dead woman who reminded you of your sister? The fact that Jack fucked you 11 days ago and has since ignored you profusely? The overwhelming flow of trauma the past hour that has since died down? Or was it you? You and your inappropriate feelings for your attending that surfaced when he kissed your forehead as you came, the feelings when he kissed your breasts and fondled them like no man ever did, when he stared into your eyes as his thumb and index finger pinched your clit with precision as he other hand was occupied in your throbbing heat. The vibrant hickeys that have now faded to a whisper of what they once were.

“Go home” Jack stated, pulling you away from your thoughts, “I’ll have you reassigned by the turn of the week” he cleared his throat.

You shook your head, “I’m finishing my shift and getting the fuck out of here” you wiped your tears and pushed the doors wide open, finding solace in an empty patient room.

Then the curtain was pulled back by none other than Robby, “Do I even wanna know why Abbot’s bleeding and you’re crying like a puppy just died?”.

Your throat was burning and sore, the eyeliner that coated your waterline was smeared and running. You pressed your lips into a tiny line, “It’s nothing” your emotions forbade you from speaking any higher, or even adequately communicating.

“Doctor Greene wants you to scrub in for thoracotomy, you sure it’s nothing Rambo?” his eyebrow raised, “You did good tonight, if anything, we learned a lot from you”.

You nodded as a way of thanking him before getting up from the bed you sat on, the world kept spinning even after the one-night stand of your life.

december 20, 2015

“Well honey how’s residency going?” your mom asked, “Meet anyone?” She was wrapping presents as Notting Hill played in the back.

There was Jack, who you’ve had the displeasure of working with the past week. He grilled into you hard, only for two days ago, he took you into the supply closet and fucked you. Neither of you spoke of it, you had a bruise on your ass from the metal digging into your skin, Jack’s hand gripped onto the railing and bent the metal. 

“It’s going well I think, Amina is nice we go

out every Friday for celebratory drinks. We’re the only female first years”.

“You’re hiding something” she pointed out, seeing your cheeks flush, “Who’s the guy?”.

Motherly intuition.

“There is no guy- at least officially”.

“Y/n! Please tell me you’re being safe about it” she sighed in disbelief, chuckling lightly.

“I am! We are!” you confessed.

You sent nudes to him, the dirtiest shit imaginable. He left his dog tags at your apartment yesterday before he left, today you wore them and sent a photo with just them on. Put him in a frenzy for hours. By Christmas he was begging you to come back to Pittsburgh as soon as possible.

The first time you spent the night at his house was December 26, 2015, he picked you up from the airport. A little hurt by the fact that he’d go out of his way just for sex. Work and interpersonal relationships only cloud the mind you kept telling yourself.

july 4, 2016

You never mentioned or asked about Jack’s years in the Marines, afraid it wasn’t your place.

So, in Independence Day fashion, after work you let him stay at your apartment. The firework show took place next to your apartment, you had bought ear plugs just in case.

It wasn’t the firework show that freaked him, if anything it sent off his heart to beat a little faster but nothing too serious. It was the illegal fireworks people threw while he was deep inside of you.

“Don’t stop please” your nails dug into his back, eyes rolling back, your window was open for fresh air just as you heard a whistle. You turned your head, hearing the sound whistle come from outside, paying no mind as you were just about to cum.

Just as an M-80 bursted in the air setting off car alarms in the surrounding area and for Jack to immediately pull out of you and shield your head. 

He stood there, guarding you as another M-100 and some firecrackers went off. When you tried to move he gripped your arm immediately, tightly, his brain was on autopilot.

“Jack let go please” you pleaded, his hand was gripping onto your bone at that point and it hurt, “Jack” you repeated, his pupils blown out and his skin began to sweat as his breathing became uneven.

You couldn’t move neither could he, you wrapped your hand around the one that gripped your arm painfully, staring into his eyes even if he couldn’t concentrate or control himself. The feeling of your hand led him to grip onto your shoulder tightly, painfully.

And for the first time, Jack frightened you.

“Jack” you whispered, your eyes swelling up with tears even as you fought it off, the death grip he had on your arm and shoulder hurt. “C’mon come back to me” you pleaded, then you figured it out. “Hey Siri, play Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in A Small Town by Pearl Jam” you announced, your phone luckily catching it as the song played softly, enough to be heard.

You tried to lean in for a kiss only for Jack to regain control from the familiarity. Bruises starting to form on your arm and shoulder, you thought nothing of it as he came back to you. 

jack’s 40th birthday - 2017

The first time Jack let you in was the night of his 40th, he had gone out with Robby and some other friends to a sports bar. By the end of the night you were on his mind.

Not the fact that you bypassed his alarm system and stood in his kitchen at 1 am the night of when he got home in nothing but aquamarine lingerie with a cupcake and candle in hand. 

He smiled at the sight and craziness, as much as he did crave you, he was tired. So instead of sex, you put on his spare clothes and cuddled up on the couches watching a replay of the Pirates v. Cubs that you missed. He played with your styled hair, as your legs intertwined with each other, the cool metal sending goosebumps all over your skin. 

He thought you were asleep when he said I love you. 

You weren’t but, you also knew about the amount of beers in his system and the fact that you weren’t dating. Just fucking with a few extra steps. 

Though the next morning you made sure to put the aquamarine lingerie to good use.

january 20, 2018

The first big argument you had was just as your residency was about to end and you had to apply to fellowships across the nation, you knew you’d get the Pitt guaranteed, you were the only one that stuck to trauma. But it was the formality that you were following.

So when Jack found out you had offers on the East Coast and not once told him, he flipped out when you stayed the night.

“Jack, it's my career!” you shouted, you first started fighting in the backyard patio, now you were both in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, the towels from the shower you both took hung on your body, “It’s a formality to apply- they pay me to go there and tour”.

“I just don’t see why there’s a need” he shook his head as he spat out the toothpaste.

“Bullshit, when you were in my place you applied elsewhere too” you raked your fingers through your hair, you felt like shit, like he was undermining your career that you built for yourself, “There’s a need because I’m gifted Jack, you were once in my shoes, I would think you’d be more understanding than this”.

“I am understanding, what I don’t get is why that far?”.

“It’s not binding for fucks sakes” you repeated yourself for the past hour, now you were at your wits end, “I’m not staying to fill some sort of void within you Jack, if I stay it’s for the betterment of myself and my career”.

You wanted to break him for making you feel like you were betraying him from a possibility. To make him feel what he was making you feel. Only thing was you were breaking both of you, not for the greater good, not for yourself or him, for approval that you were enough.

All he could give was a nod, he walked out of the en-suite. Grabbed a few clothes to throw on and slammed the dresser and door. You followed suit as he put shoes on and went to the key rack.

“Where are you going?”.

“I need a breather” he curtly replied, not sparing a glance at you once, a faint sniffle emitted from him.

“And that’s where?”.

“If you thought for even a second that this” he pointed between both of you, “Was filling a ‘void’ within me you’re completely fucking mistaken” he cursed, “I’m leaving, you can go to California for all I fucking care”.

You scoffed in his face, refusing to break, “What did you even want from this huh?” you egged on, “Sex and ‘I love you’s’ without any form of attachment? You lead me on 3- almost 4 years and keep me here ‘cuz I’m good fuck?”.

“We agreed to this!” he became irritated, “You’re the one who insisted that a relationship is only going make it complicated just for sex to be fucking complicated” his blood ran hot, “I have been willing to spare my feelings to cater to you and your lack of commitment with this, now you want to leave”.

“It’s a fellowship Jack! It’s a year!” you groaned, “I didn’t think you needed titles and stone cold definitive answers for you to know I love you” you blurted. You never once told him you loved him, whenever he told you he was under the impression you were asleep or unaware.

He was stunned at first, “I can’t do this right now with you” he continued on with leaving.

You wouldn’t see him for another four hours, by the time it reached 12 am you were worried he got into a bar fight, car crash, got shot in an accident- you were paranoid beyond words and reduced to tears.

When Jack came back home he shot you a text, ‘Come outside’. It was freezing and you still went anyway, seeing him sit on his truck bed opening in his driveway.

You took the spot next to him, shivering slightly. “I haven’t felt this way about someone in my life since…” Jack trailed on, “I want you to further your career, I want you to accomplish fucking feats in trauma surgery. Just as much as I want to go home with you or to you. I can’t be selfish about it, but I am, and it’s not fair to you”.

“I want to stay”.

“But-“.

“I want to stay” you repeated, “It’s not entirely because of you, it’s because of this” you used your finger to draw a circle in the air, “As of right now they’re are 7.6 billion people in this world and only one of them I can be everything I want to be with” you cheekily confessed, “So it’s ‘but’ nothing. I’ve been wanting to be with you since I met you. I just thought people would think it’s preferential treatment and I fucked my way up”.

“I can’t hold you back”.

“You’ve taught me enough to blow those fucking boards and competency exams through the roof- I mean I did a lot of the work but you are quite the teacher” you responded, “Plus, when you’re frail and old we can go to California”.

Jack laughed, you spent the rest of the night cuddling, just before you lightly slapped him for worrying you. 

december 24, 2018

It was your first Christmas together. You told your parents there was no possibility of you being able to go, the ED is always swamped during the holiday season. You and Jack had a promise to keep: home by 1 am, warm shower together then presents and maybe sex unless you both crash.

It was 11 pm and your hand was deep in a man’s chest cavity, “Push another round of epi” you demanded, Greene nowhere to be found, you were just a fellow, technically not fully authorized to perform surgery especially in a trauma room.

“Okay no everyone stop, push local anesthesia, I’m going in, I need new gloves and protection glasses now” you demanded, getting a few looks from the interns.

“Y/n cardio is swamped, now’s not the time for a cardiac ablation, especially here” Princess muttered to you, you looked up.

“Seal off the doors, I want only authorized personnel in here only, call Greene, tell him I’m doing a cardiac ablation, our patient has an irregular heartbeat, I need to control that before anything else, I’m going to close him up” you instructed, “Princess please get me a catheter with electrodes”.

“Abbot has them next door” she responded, you looked at the nurse on the phone.

“Call Abbot and tell him I need a catheter with electrodes immediately, he’s authorized to come in”.

“What the fuck is she doing?” Jack cursed under his breath as he made his way downstairs, seeing you close up the Santa impersonator. “Cardiac ablation?”.

You nodded, “Patients stable and closed up, Jesse cut off his pants for me” you told him.

“Can I stay to watch?” he breathed your neck, handing you the catheter.

“Not too close or else I’ll be sticking this in you” you murmured back, Jack took his place next to the monitors.

“I need all the interns to the back, you may not get any closer than that, if you’re paged I’ll clear it later” you shouted, Princess handed you your 11-blade as well as moved the stray pieces of hair.

You made the incision on the groin, inserting the catheter while applying cryoablation. As the scar tissue formed, his arrhythmia stopped completely and he was stabilized, you did it within 10 minutes in complete silence.

“I know you did not just perform surgery unauthorized in a non-sterile trauma room” Gloria’s voice boomed none less than a minute after, the entire floor heard her grilling into you.

All you could do was laugh at it, you saved a man’s life and cured his arrhythmia, he was conscious before your shift ended and gave his thanks, luckily, he didn’t need a pacemaker. He did guarantee that when and if you have kids, he’ll be glad to be Santa for them.

The drive home was quiet as it was 3:40 am in Pittsburgh, snowing and windy. Jack and you took separate cars and he made it home before you. You cursed today as your back and feet hurt, you bruised your hand twice over, and you missed the celebration with Jack.

When you parked next to Jack’s truck in the driveway, the garage being a mess from the Christmas bins being everywhere, you could almost crash, but you’d prefer Jack’s warmth over suffocating in a car so you opened the garage door and went inside. 

Greeted with candles and rose petals all over the place as Frank Sinatra’s rendition of The Christmas Song played. You could cry right then and there when you turned your head to face the living room, seeing the fireplace burn and the Christmas tree lit.

Jack’s hands found their way to your coat, startled for a second from wondering where the hell he came from. He took it off, hung it on the coat rack and let you walk through the house.

“There’s a bath drawn with your name on it Rambo” he whispered in your ear as he ghosted a kiss on your neck, you giggled from not having heard that nickname in over a year. “After we can drink that wine you’ve been talking about the past week, open a few presents…”.

“Wait for me?” you whispered back.

“Always”.

You didn’t make it to open presents, falling asleep on the couch on top of Jack after two glasses of wine. Thankfully, that didn’t become a tradition, you made it a habit to take day shifts during holidays. The next year he gave you an all-inclusive spa membership, you got him a new grill. It was a quiet moment for you both every year, a comforting quiet moment.

august 20, 2020

“You’re working tonight baby?” you questioned, as you poured two cups of hot cocoa for Jack’s niece and nephew. Jack placed a kiss on your cheek. 

Since the pandemic, you were hardly working, they strictly put surgical teams as oncall only as a safety measure. But you saw the strain on Jack. So when his brother insisted on breaking lockdown protocols and having his children stay over, he was displeased and stressed.

“Yeah, Adamson’s not doing well, Robby wants me to rotate out with him” he told you, “I think him and Collins are a thing” he chose to gossip.

You scoffed, “After all the shit he gave you for being with me he does that? At least we were in different departments but they better hope no one finds out” you then added, “But I do love Heather so good for him”.

Jack smiled before looking at you a tad bit more seriously, “I may be back tomorrow or in two days, you think you can drop them off at my brothers?”.

“Yeah might just force them to get vaccinated too” you tried to lighten the mood, “Seriously they’re the first to come to you for medical advice but when it comes to preventive medicine they get psyched out” you sighed.

“Trust me I know” he shook his head, there was a comfortable pause between the two of you, one of knowing and begging to be safe, “I love you”.

“I love you” you replied before kissing him, “Stay safe please hon” he bid his farewells to his niece and nephew who were engulfed in monopoly on the island counter. 

When he came home, he broke the news about Adamson, spent the day holding you in bed as his brother bit the bullet and picked the kids up. You were worried about Jack’s health with the sleepless nights, he insisted you were becoming stir crazy. The next week you had six surgeries, Greene would’ve assisted you but he retired the month before, leaving the trauma department to you. 

dividers by @cafekitsune

[cometconmain]

I hear you. I was the kid with a book too. Adults in my life would get mad at me for showing more emotion and connection with the fictional characters in books and then, later, films and TV, than I ever really did with real people. I grew up with people constantly assuming and belittling me over the idea they insisted on pedalling that I "didn't know the difference between fantasy and reality" specifically because I related more to the fictional characters. It never occurred to them that I did know the difference - painfully so - I just preferred the company of the fiction to the shitty real people in my life with whom most of my interactions as an autistic person growing up in the late 90s - early 2010s revolved almost exclusively around training me to behave like an allistic because me being who I was would supposedly never be acceptable in 'normal' society (on top of constant pressure to perform at my absolute best in every area I was learning from schoolwork to the performing arts. I have a vivid memory of being forced to play the piano until 11pm at around 10 years old because I was making mistakes and I wasn't allowed to stop and go to bed until I got it perfect because Mum was in that kind of mood. I remember crying and feeling so fucking tired and hating every second of it and feeling like I would just be forced to stay up all night because I couldn't see how I could possibly do it perfectly in my state. Somehow I did finally, but that's stayed stamped in my memory.)

So yeah. I wasn't really stoked about engaging with people in my life until I grew up, got out (got into a different abusive relationship in the process but ah well you live and you learn; I was 17 when I met her and desperate to get away) and eventually met one of my now best friends, who was one of the first of a tiny collection of real people I clicked with on a LevelTM where I genuinely wanted to engage with them long term and am always more than happy amd excited to put real effort into making time for them because it's actually a joy to be around them. The second now other best friend came a bit later (I met them on here actually which was a one in a million chance) and are also part of that tiny collection now. Honestly, the real difficulty is in trying to fit in everything the three of us want to do together in the time we manage to get. 😂

People will try to tell you you're broken because they don't want to recognise they're not treating you properly like a person worthy of engagement. You then not giving them engagement they haven't done a single thing to earn isn't wrong and isn't proof of their beliefs about you. It's a completely normal human response to being treated like garbage.

consider: teenagers aren’t apathetic about everything they’re just used to you shitting all over whatever they show excitement about

[inbabylontheywept]

How is your life so interesting

Normally, I just kind of laugh this question off, but I've been asked enough times I'm gonna take an honest stab at it.

So, the first thing worth considering is whether the story itself is all that interesting, or whether I am just a good storyteller. My most popular story is about cutting a lot of worms and half, and crying, and then being comforted by my mom. That's not a terribly uncommon or hard to imagine event. A lot of my stories more about the telling than the substance.

There are also some stories that are weird, but they're weird in ways that I also find, like, relateably weird? It might just be that I knew a lot of athletes in college, but I don't think eating raw eggs is that weird. Eating 15 in one go is, but I was roommates with a guy that ate like, three for breakfast, three in his in-class protein shake, and another three at dinner. That guy was attending ASU on a gymnast scholarship, but also, he genuinely ate 5 dozen eggs a week. That seems much more normal than eating 15 in one day.

To say nothing of eating raw onion. Tons of people eat raw onions. It baffles the non-onion eaters, but it's a super common thing. Especially in Mexico.

Some of the stories happen because I am better at noticing story-worthy events than most people. I can't tell you how many times I've been in public, and seen someone do some weirdass thing, and then had to nudge my wife and to get her to watch it too.

If I had to point to the parts of my life that are truly, genuinely, bafflingly weird, they would be my dating stories, and. I dunno. My general thermonuclear dumbass event posts. And I can break down why those two are interesting pretty simply:

I was unbelievably bad at dating. The majority of the time, that just meant that there was a few minutes of stilted small talk and never get a call back. But the thing is, Mormon culture strongly encourages dating as like, a social-practice thing, and I was very motivated to get good at it, so I just kept trying and trying and I think I went on at least 200 first dates before meeting my wife. I genuinely believe that if anyone went on 200 first dates, they would get some pretty incredible bad date stories too. Especially if they had autism. I know I write well, and I can sound very charming here, but it took me a very, very long to get decent social skills. I am just a disturbingly persistent learner.

I am very convincing. This is helpful when I am interacting with other people, because it can do things like, convince them to let me into their secret facility, or convince them to not vote Republican again, or to save at least put the company match into their retirement accounts. But when I'm just debating something with myself, my convincingness works against me: I am very good at tricking myself into believing that bad ideas are, somehow, actually good. This is part of why I have so much sympathy for the right wing lunatics that I work with. Every time I meet a crazy person I go, ah, but for the grace of God, go I. Anyway, this does an unfortunate thing where my excellent verbal skills drive my poor decisions, which results in the very odd combination of welll written, articulate stories about someone being A Fucking Idiot. Like the condom bomber story. I think this is also why most of the lawyers that I meet are insane in their personal lives.

Anyway, those are my theories! I'm gonna tag @lizardho because we mostly had the same childhood, but she has a better grasp on what normal people look like than me, and perhaps she'll have her own theories on the weirdness of our lives.

[iamthatonefangirl]

YOU WANTED more thoughts?? here i am.

mean n possessive dads best friend bucky whose always known you have a crush on him

OR (and?)

also you yapping n overthinking and bucky stopping you by fucking you

-@nevereclipse

sneaky - nsfw dbf!bucky barnes

please be warned this is... deranged. uncle kink. (not actual uncle because it's dbf) BOTH ARE FULLY GROWN ADULTS 18+ OKAY. you have been warned, read at your own discretion.

~~~

sneaking around with your dad's best friend probably wasn't the best idea you'd ever had.

what made it worse? every time your dad referred to him as your "Uncle Bucky." you cringed every time you heard it.

yeah, that's who he was to you your whole life. but hearing it now, knowing what you knew...

it put a bad taste in your mouth. a reminder of what you absolutely should not be doing.

but the way he fucks you isn't worth giving up just for peace of mind.

you wonder, sometimes, if that's what people who cheat on their partners think. that no matter how wrong it is, how many people you hurt, it just feels too goddamn good to give up. they're willing to go to insane lengths to keep the secret and keep their families together. they want to have their cake and eat it too.

because even though neither of you are cheating on anybody, that's exactly what you're both doing.

~~~

"fuck, that's my girl," he groans as you get down on your knees in front of him. you'd been sitting on his couch, watching something on netflix, anything, when you got carried away. only thirty seconds into the show.

maybe you're just insane, but there's something about being on your knees for him, bowing down to him, knowing how wrong this is...

he's supposed to be a father figure in your life, and what are you doing? you're blowing him with no remorse for your actions. you've done it before, and you're looking forward to doing it again.

his hands massage your scalp, encouraging you, "come on. be good. you can take it all," he says, pushing further into your throat and holding your head there, making you take it.

"love seeing you take all of me. love knowing I'm the only one who gets to fuck this little throat, huh? ain't that right? my own personal call girl?"

you nod as best you can while he holds you in place.

"yeah. my little girl. all grown up now, such a slut for her uncle, huh?"

your face warms so much you feel like you're sitting in front of the furnace. he loves rubbing this in your face, reminding you of what you're doing, forcing you to get off on it.

"that's right. you know your place, I know you do. I taught you so well."

he holds you there for you don't know how long, massaging your scalp down to the back of your neck, before bringing his hand to the front of your throat and pressing on where it bulges, thanks to him.

"my girl," he hisses. "none of those little college boys can fuck you the way you need. you needed someone you know, someone you trust, ain't that right?"

you might cry from how embarrassed and turned on you are right now.

"that's right. so needy for my cock, every fucking time, knowing how stupid you're being. you just can't get enough."

you're startled when his phone rings. he doesn't bother moving you, making you sit there while he looks down at the screen to see who it is. when he ignores it, you finally relax.

"you know I've been taking care of you your whole life, darlin'. course I'm gonna take care of you now. gotta take care of all your little needs cause no one else can, not like Uncle Bucky can."

and then, your phone rings in your pocket.

"fuck, is he calling you now?" Bucky groans.

and that's when you freak, shoving yourself off of him and falling backwards onto your ass on the floor. you reach for your phone in your back pocket.

Bucky asks you, "the hell are you doing? you're not done."

your voice is fucked when you quickly tell him, "my dad knows I'm with you! I told him we were getting dinner!"

Bucky's eyes widen. normally you tell him you're at a friend's place.

he nods and you hurry to answer.

"hey, Dad..." you try, clearing your throat, trying not to sound like you're absolutely wrecked.

"yeah, no we got takeout... yeah, Bucky's outside... yeah..."

you eventually hang up the call, both of you sitting there, startled.

no matter how much Bucky taunts you about it, it's not fun when you're reminded of the reality.

"he asked me why we didn't invite him and my mom," you tell him quietly from your spot, still on the ground.

you're both silent for a minute, the tv still playing in the background as you the awkward moment drags on and on.

you eventually both decide it's best to call it a night.

~~~

you both know better than to be reckless at this point.

but sometimes, you just can't help it.

you were trying to hop in the shower one afternoon, turning on the water, waiting for it to steam up the room. minute after minute ticked by as you stood there, naked, pleading the water to get hot.

you curse the universe when it doesn't, because it's just your luck that your dad isn't home to fix the problem.

so you shut off the water, wrap a towel around yourself, and go sit on your bed while you make a call.

"hey you, what's up?" he asks.

"can you come fix my pipes?" you tease.

Bucky stutters for a moment. "wow, that's... bold of you to say. I take it your folks aren't home?"

"you're right, they're not. but no, I'm being serious, the hot water won't turn on. can you come over and take a look at it for me?"

"yeah, sure. be over in a few."

you don't bother putting on any clothes, waiting around for the knock at the door still clad in your bath towel.

when you answer the door, you can't help yourself.

"oh, mister, however am I supposed to repay you?" you ask, pretending to be distraught, but it's ruined by the fact that you can't stop laughing as you say it.

"you're insufferable," he teases, stepping inside and yanking the towel from your form as he walks to the closet where the hot water heater is.

"hey!" you yell, reaching for the towel again.

"nothing I ain't seen before. besides, it'll encourage me to do my best work if I got an incentive for payment, don't ya think?"

that's how you end up in the shower together, hot water fixed, thirty minutes later.

he's got you pinned against the ice cold tile wall, hooking one of your legs up and around his waist. his fingers trace the skin of your thigh, his other hand behind your head to keep it from hitting against the hard wall.

"yeah, that's it. gonna let me use you, aren't you?"

"yes, yes, Bucky," you whine. he's teasing you, running his tip up and down your folds. he stares down at the sight, working you up to make you so desperate you'll do whatever he wants.

you start begging way too soon. "please, Bucky, I can't wait. please," you say, drawing out the last syllable.

he has no mercy, continuing to tease, before pulling back entirely.

"Bucky!" you cry, the only word in your mind.

"you know what I want to hear," he whispers in your ear.

he did this on purpose. he always does this on purpose, goddamnit.

"please, Uncle Bucky?"

he groans in approval, finally pushing himself into you, opening you up for him once again.

except it doesn't last long, because with the water raining down on the both of you along with the force of his motions, neither of you can keep your feet in place, and you keep slipping.

"god, least we tried," he laughs, turning off the water and picking you up bridal style to take you to your bedroom.

he barely gets the chance to lay you down when you hear the front door unlock downstairs.

you make eye contact. you're fucked, you're fucked.

"go put on your clothes. spray your shirt with the shower nozzle, tell him I sprayed you after you fixed the hot water," you whisper to him, pushing him off of you.

you both scramble to put on your clothes. Bucky does as you instructed, and you freak out when you see your sheets covered in water. you didn't bother using your towel, which clearly, was a bad move.

you're pretty sure your dad buys the excuse.

~~~

a few weekends later, your parents invite Bucky over for family dinner. he texts you before coming over, "wear a skirt for me, pretty girl."

now, as you sit at the table eating dinner, you know why.

he sits there, trailing his prosthetic fingers up and down your thigh under your skirt, all while your parents talk to him like normal. there's very little for you to contribute, so you're lucky you can focus on keeping your shit together while he messes with you, occasionally pinching your skin to keep you on edge.

"Bucky, we have something to ask you about," you hear from across the table.

his hand stops, and your jaw freezes in the middle of chewing.

"uh, what's that?" he asks them.

"we think there's something you're not telling us. and we think it's something you're both keeping from us."

you're fucked. you're done for. it's over.

"it's not what you think-" he begins, only to be cut off.

"have you started seeing someone? you've been happier lately. and knowing our daughter, she's probably already figured it out, but you've sworn her to secrecy, right?"

you let out a sharp exhale.

you're safe.

"yes, yeah. that's exactly it," he tells them, continuing to make excuses that he didn't want to say anything yet, it's still new...

his hand begins moving under the table again.

~~~

later that evening, you express a craving for ice cream.

"I'll take her," Bucky says before anyone else responds. "and I'll have her home before curfew."

you feel a pang in your chest when your dad assures Bucky, no need. we trust you with our daughter.

you know Bucky feels the guilt hit, too.

it doesn't stop you, though, from finding an empty parking lot and getting in the back seat as soon as possible.

"fuck, what would you have done if they'd found out, hmm? would you have admitted you had a thing for your uncle, baby?" he taunts, moving your hips down on his as you straddle him, riding him the way he likes.

the windows are already coated in condensation, the both of you so eager and pent up from the stress of the evening.

"no," you pant, tossing your head back.

he brings a hand to your throat, making you look at him.

"nuh-uh. you're gonna watch me while I fuck you. you're never gonna forget who it is that's fucking you like this, you hear me? I'm never going to let you forget."

~~~

when he drops you back at your house that evening, your mom asks, "vanilla?"

"I'm sorry, what?" you ask, confused.

"you get vanilla? you got some white stuff right there," she points to the corner of your lips.

you don't tell her you didn't go for ice cream.

~~~

guys I am sorry for this one... I had to

masterlist

join my tag list

bucky tag list:

@clavedelune @starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @mrsnikstan @sleepysongbirdsings @sapphirebarnes @bananababygirl10 @multiversefanfics @winchestert101 @andziabarnes @chrisevansleftnipple @daisydark @luckyhornet @maryevm @avengemepercy @mandoloriancookie @starstruck-cowgirl @doubledizzy22 @yvespecially @shereadzzz @flow33didontsmoke @blaineandergel

[heartfullofleeches]

[Male Reader]

"Please choose me...."

Overcome by grief and anguish, your headache of a partner crumples at your feet in a shivering heap. He retches - the rawness of his throat igniting a bitter, painful wave of nausea. As they gather the strength to pick themselves off the floor, a stray glance at his phone sents him right back to the dry heaving, pathetic shell of a person they were moments prior.

You'd be more concerned for his miserable state - if it weren't for that damned phone. It's caused you and them more harm than good.

"What is it now, V?"

"It's the one thing money can't beat."

V pounds their fist against the floor - howling into the carpet.

"How the fuck am I suppose to compete with a girl with an ass that fat?!"

Today is not the day. You've contemplated strangling them for months, but today is not the day you catch a murder charge.

"What in the actual hell are you going on about?"

Tears pouring down their cheeks like a faucet, V drags himself off the carpet - shoving his phone in your face. It's then you realize your own mortal error.

"The bitch you posted on your page! Look at her ass in those yoga pants! It's practical bursting out of them! It's fucking natural too - I can tell!"

That alone sends V into another hysterical fit.

"Normally I'm more of a stick, but next to her I'm a toothpick."

Don't kill him. Don't kill them. Don't kill him.

"So. You're able to tell just by looking at it there was no plastic surgery involved?"

V almost seems offended you'd question their expertise. "I've looked at enough asses in my time to know what's real and what isn't."

"If you're such an expert then why's it taken you so long to think that maybe the ass in that photo is mine?"

With a sniffle and a soft hitch of breath, V's cries screech to an abrupt hold. Their head pivots from their phone, to you, back to their phone - gradually scaling down to the outline of your rear in the baggy slacks you currently hand on.

"This... " V taps at their screen, zooming in by pure accident. They salivate at the magnified image - sucking air between their teeth. "This you?"

"Yup. I told you I was starting pilates days ago."

"Fuck." V clasps a hand over his mouth, scrolling back and forth between photos. "No wonder you wear baggy clothes all the time. Just look at that thing. Damn."

"I know what it looks like, V. It's my ass."

V pockets their phone, adjusting the waistline of his sweatpants.

"Well if you need me I'll be in my room doing... taxes. Keep up the good work."

V pats your shoulder, sneaking a kiss to your cheek as he shuffles off towards his bedroom.

[dameronspector]

Happily Ever After

(Continuation to this, I'd suggest reading that first!)

Pairing: Actor!Joaquin Torres x Fem!Actress!Reader

Summary: This is a collection of all the moments you have shared with your co-star, turned best friend, turned boyfriend, Joaquin.

Warnings: This is completely inspired by tom and zendaya and their moments from the nwh press tour, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of panic attacks, mobs, paps being insane, and wanting children, reader is mentioned to be shorter than joaquin, completely inspired by tz.

AN: i am so EXCITED for this. These two + tz are my favourite babies🥹 (pretend the gif is joaquin and reader)

It has been a whole year since that magical confession was shared between you and Joaquin and both of you weren't shy to admit that this past year has been the best year of your lives.

Both of you had mutually decided to keep it private for at least a year. Although, you were sure everyone already knew, but it was fun to pretend like nothing happened. You and Joaquin surely enjoyed it too much.

This past year had made you realise that if you thought Joaquin was an amazing friend, he was an even better (and clingier) boyfriend. He was so attentive and respectful, always cheering you on whatever projects you did- like he was your personal hype man. He was this close to posting your photos all over his room as he considered himself to be your biggest fan. When he did stuff like this, all you wanted to do was squish his pretty little face in your hands and never let him go. He was obsessed with you, but in a positive way- always going out of his way to talk about you and uplift you. The urge to giggle nonstop around him was so strong because he made you feel like a princess.

Joaquin was over the moon. It was like he had permanent puppy dog eyes and heart eyes around you. He would look at you like you saved him, his brown eyes shining with love and everyone clearly noticed that. All he wanted to do was hold you close and never let go, making up for lost time. He had a folder full of your photos on his phone, a polaroid of you two behind his phone case, your picture in his wallet, your scarf lying around his closet, hair ties around his wrist, and an extra bottle of your perfume and shampoo to use whenever you'd be away from from for longer periods of time. The shift in his mood would be immediate--he'd get cranky and irritable, especially if he didn't get to talk to you if the two of you were busy. And when you came back? He'd make sure you wouldn't lift even a finger.

A year ago when you two returned to the party, hand-in-hand and clinging to each other, Sam and Bucky were this close to screaming and running around the venue in happiness. They were so happy for you two that they threw another party the next day and spoiled you. After waiting for a month, you decided to tell your families and they weren't surprised but they were over the moon. Joaquin's abuela had started calling you her daughter-in-law and that made you blush like crazy because Joaquin made no efforts to correct her.

After a year of not getting a chance to work together, you and Joaquin finally got cast in the same movie. It was for a superhero franchise and you were cast as his love interest. It was personal this time around because you two were actually dating. Nobody knew about your relationship yet, but they weren't phased with your closeness because you and Joaquin were always like that. This was just another Tuesday for your colleagues and fans.

The filming was fun, and nerve wracking, at the same time because you had to take extra measures to sneak into his room and vice versa or be careful if you wanted to hang out together but your teams made sure that the two of you were protected and kept their mouths sealed. The two of you made sure to post normal pictures and silly videos to make sure the fans don't think something's up.

The best part of the filming was that you and Joaquin could enjoy a mini vacation on the side as the location for filming was Europe. The two of you had romantic dates, went on sight seeing and museums visits together and clicked millions of pictures. Joaquin's skin was tinted in that lovely shade of pink because of the weather and you were soaking in every moment of it. He looked so beautiful with his curls-loose and messy because of the heat, the loose linen shirts, his pretty moles and golden jewelry shining in the warm European sun, that it made you want to trap him in your arms forever.

Joaquin wasn't any better, trailing behind you like a lovesick fool, holding your bags, helping you put on sunscreen, taking pictures of you at every turn, admiring you in those pretty summer dresses and your skin shining in the sun. His favorite part were the museum and monument visits because you were a history nerd and you would talk about it so passionately that he'd simply stand next you and look at your intellectual explanations and excited hand gestures fondly.

Much to both of your dismay and happiness, the movie was finished and will be releasing soon, which meant that you two had to go on a press tour for it. Now, this was a time where you wished you had a leash for Joaquin because he was not subtle. Not that you weren't any better but him...he'd take every opportunity to touch you and lean into you or flirt with you and everyone around you would just laugh--your costars included. And it just so happened that Sam and Bucky, both, were your costars in this movie. If they weren't insufferable enough on set, then they were going to be ten times worse during the press tour.

-

The interviewer was talking about something on the screen, it was a hybrid interview--as in you all were on set and they interviewer was in a different place so they had to video call. Sam and Bucky were sitting to your left off camera and Joaquin was answering something on your right.

He was wearing a white fleece with black trousers, the color making his cheeks look pink. His hair was gelled back neatly and his skin was glowing. As he was talking, you couldn't help but notice a hair by the bridge of his nose. You leaned in closer and gently brought your hand by his nose, "Wait- there's-", Joaquin paused and stilled his movements, his mouth stretching open in an attempt to stretch his face to help you and you slowly removed the hair before assessing his face, "Yeah, okay. It was a tiny hair, sorry", you said quietly.

Joaquin turned to look at you and said, "Thank you", in a soft tone, his eyes taking you in. You just gave him a bashful smile and turned back to face the camera, noticing Sam and Bucky snickering amongst themselves on the sidelines from the corner of your eye.

As soon as this clip was released, it went viral and everyone wouldn't stop talking about the way he looked at you and the blush on your cheeks.

-

"So, there's a moment in the trailer where (Name), you, fall off a ledge and-"

Joaquin brought his hands in front of him and made a gesture of the hands not meeting together, "Nooo! Pretty heartbreaking, honestly", he said in a light voice while pouting. You laughed and nudged him before doing the same with your hands. Then, you two looked at each other and giggled like two kids who were up to no good.

Sam was sitting next to Joaquin and Bucky next to you and they just shook their heads at your antics. "My god, what are we? chopped liver? You two want some space?", Sam quipped and Bucky grimaced dramatically, the interviewer and the crew laughed.

You and Joaquin separated, your cheeks warm and nervous chuckles leaving your mouths. You looked at Sam and narrowed your eyes at him, conveying that you were going to get his ass after this. Sam threw a smirk in your direction before looking back at the interviewer and you elbowed Bucky in his ribs, which got an 'oof' out of him. Joaquin was just cheesing at you.

-

The next stop for the press tour was London and this time it was only you and Joaquin while Sam and Bucky toured the rest of the USA. You both were making an appearance on the Graham Norton Show today and honestly, you were pretty excited because you thought he was very funny. Joaquin was wearing a dark blue suit with a black shirt inside and you were wearing a green suit with a purple shirt.

"Joaquin, I heard that you were having a lot of difficulties with your suit. Would you like share about that experience?", Graham asked Joaquin.

"Oh man, it was so difficult. Especially 'cus we...we filmed in the European summer, right? After a point I felt like I was gonna pass out because it was so--constricting. Couldn't drink water properly or go to the washroom, in fact, (Name) was more worried about me than I was, so I'm glad she was there because she'd remind me to stay hydrated", Joaquin answered with a smile. The audience cheered at that.

"How could I not?! I was so worried he was going to--I don't know, throw up or choke! His whole mouth would be covered and he had to drink from those eye holes in the mask-- it was scary! And everybody was too casual about it, including him, like hello? Why aren't we worrying about him choking with that thing blocking his nose and mouth?!", you explained and your hands gestured stressfully around your face, eyes wide as saucers.

Apparently that was funny and the whole studio burst out in laughter, including your dumbass boyfriend. You looked at him and pushed him lightly, your face showing surprise and genuine stress for his predicament. Joaquin kept laughing and held your hand in his, squeezing it to comfort you.

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you! Everyone should have a costar like you, (Name)”, Graham teased you, like he knew something was up between the two of you. You let out a chuckle and shook your head, rubbing your thumb across Joaquin’s bicep and bringing it back in your lap.

After returning back to the hotel, Joaquin kissed you stupid, not letting you go and attacking you in kisses because you were “too fuckin’ cute.”

-

A few days prior to the premiere, you were staying at Joaquin’s house to help his family with his sister’s birthday party. Joaquin had told you that you didn’t need to do all that but you shut him up by saying you wanted to (his chest soared with love because you were so kind and helpful and considered his family as your own.) You had forgotten to get her gift from your house and you had to buy some groceries from the market for the lunch, so you were going back to get it when Joaquin offered to drive you there. You reassured him that you’d be fine but him and his mom would have none of it, so he whisked you off to his car.

While the car was stopped at a red light, you listed off the things that you needed to help out with today and Joaquin just looked at you with a dopey look on his face, a wide smile plastered on, the whole time.

“Okay, your mom asked us to get some spices from the market and, uhh- I also noticed we were out of lemons so we need that for the pie and…ooh, we should get some chocolate and raspberries, I was telling your mom about—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Joaquin gently held your chin in his hand and brought you closer to kiss your lips lovingly. You squealed and held his wrist in your hand before he pulled back and smiled at you, his thumb caressing your chin softly. You stared at him with wide eyes and let out a series of giggles.

“Quino, what-”, you couldn’t finish the sentence as he just leaned in and pressed a series of kisses to your lips and the corner of your mouth. You burst out giggling and pressed your hands to his chest, pushing him away slightly.

“Baby, what’s all this?”, you asked him in between laughing.

“You’re so cute. And so pretty. And so sweet. Can’t I love on my girl?”, he said cheekily and pulled back to cradle your face in his hand.

You scrunched your nose at him, “Shut up, you’re so cheesy”, and pinched his nose lightly. Joaquin gave you his famous wrinkly eyed laugh and brought you closer to kiss your cheek before turning back towards the steering wheel.

What you two didn’t notice, was the lone camera lurking nearby, snapping pictures of your sweet moment.

-

You two were caught between wanting to die or cry and wanting to laugh or joke. Because the first thing you two woke up to on the next morning of his sister’s birthday party, were your phones going off like crazy. You grumbled and Joaquin told you to go back to sleep and silenced your phone before he picked up his.

“Hello?”, he groggily answered. You snuggled closer to him and he smoothed a hand across your back.

“What?!”, he suddenly screamed and you jumped, pulling back to look at him in question, bleary eyes trying to focus on him.

“Yeah. Uh-Okay, okay”, he quickly ended the call and propped himself up against the headboard.

“Joaquin, what’s going on?”, you asked him in concern. He looked stressed out.

“Wait..”, he said absentmindedly and frantically opened his Twitter app. And the first thing he saw on his timeline was a picture of you and him, kissing in the car from yesterday. He saw many tweets on his timeline that looked like this:

I fucking KNEWWWW IT!!! YALL LOOK:

what did I say. What did I say. I was in the trenches defending myself omg they’re fr dating.

Joaquin Torres and (Name) CONFIRM their relationship!

All those edits fr came real ..who knows they might have been actually dating all this time MY GOD

These two are so cute omg.

“Oh my god-”, Joaquin panicked while clutching his phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows and sat up, taking his phone and watching it for yourself. The photos were all over the timeline. Everyone was talking about it. You froze, didn’t even move after Joaquin shook you lightly.

“Fuck”, you breathed out.

“I know. I’m so sorry, angel-” “Quino, why are you sorry? We’re allowed to do whatever we want to in our own car. It’s the person’s fault for stalking us like that”, you cupped his chin in your hand.

Joaquin’s eyes were sad and apologetic, like this was his fault. He knew you wanted to keep it private for sometime and berated himself for being so stupid to kiss you in front of the whole world like that.

“But-” “Joaquin, no. Let’s have a meeting with our teams and we’ll figure something out, okay? And if you’re alright with it…I wouldn’t mind telling everyone now”, you soothed him with one hand buried in his curls.

He snapped his head up to look at you in shock, “Really? You sure? We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, baby.”

You gave him a fond smile and leaned against his chest, hands flat against it and supporting your head up. His arms came around your waist automatically, like a magnet.

“People have been guessing about it for years, anyways. And I’d love to show off my beautiful boyfriend”, you winked at him and he laughed gleefully.

“Shut up”, he squeezed your waist lightly. You giggled and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“I hate that they’re just posting these pictures like that…is it so difficult to maintain our privacy?”, Joaquin grumbled, his face twisted in annoyance. You gave him an understanding look.

“Yeah, I know, baby. We’ll handle that, hm? Let’s call up our managers and arrange a meeting right away”, you consoled him. He hummed and kissed your forehead in response.

The meeting went well. You and Joaquin put forward your points and rules about how you’re going to handle this and the guidelines for the paparazzi/interviewers. It was decided that you won’t deny your relationship but nobody would ask you questions or secretly click your pictures unless you two allow it. Joaquin was a bit more firm about the paparazzi rules, worried about your safety and wanting to protect you.

After laying down all the rules and signing some papers, you were relieved and free to go to the premiere.

-

Joaquin reached the red carpet before you, wearing a beautiful maroon suit with his glasses and he was giving interviews while waiting for you. Both of you had decided that you’d arrive on the red carpets separately, wanting to give each other space to enjoy your own moment but Joaquin being Joaquin, spent the whole time talking about you and missing you. Not that you weren’t doing any better back in your room but he was a little bit extra.

“Joaquin, welcome to the red carpet, how are you feeling tonight?”, the interviewer asked him.

Joaquin grinned, “Oh, it’s amazing. I feel good, the energy is electric, I can see all the fans waving and callin’ out for me- I’m really excited”, he gushed. He was practically bouncing off the walls with his excitement, this was nourishment for his extroverted self. “And I get to share this with my most favourite people in the whole world so, yeah”, he added cheekily.

The interviewer smiled knowingly, “And who are these people, Joaquin?”

Joaquin opened his mouth to answer before he heard cheers next to him. He snapped his head towards the sound and went on his tip toes to find out what the commotion was about. He knew already, it was you- he called you the people’s princess because of how much everyone loved you.

“What’s happening, can you see? I bet it’s (Name)”, the interviewer commented while leaning forward to look for herself.

Joaquin let out a joyful chuckle when he saw your blurry form down the carpet, “Yes, that’s definitely her. Those cheers are an indicator of that”, he replied gleefully, his eyes shining with admiration and love for you.

The interviewer smiled, the camera capturing his smitten reaction but he paid no heed to any of that—his entire body dialled in to your movements. He could see your maroon dress- you wanted to match with him- and the way you were smiling and waving to the crowd, looking every bit of the star that you are, the camera flashes making you sparkle.

You soon made your way over to where he stood, the interview long forgotten, and as soon as you caught his eye, your face shifted in happiness and he flashed you a fond smile before making his way over to hug you.

“Hi, angel”, he murmured quietly in your ear, tugging you close to him with his arms around your waist. You returned the gestured and squealed in happiness, your arms looped around his neck and face pressed against the side of his head.

“Hi, Quino”, you cooed in his ear and he gently swayed your bodies back and forth. You reluctantly pulled back and he kept his hands around your waist to admire your look for today.

“You look so beautiful. Like a princess. And everyone was cheering so loudly for you, baby, you really are a princess”, he compliment you softly, brown eyes taking you in and thumbs gently rubbing your sides.

You blushed, “Shut up, Torres, you’re so cheesy”, your eyes flickering around the space, taking notice of the cameras going crazy around you two.

“We should get back to work, baby. Look at the cameras”, you whispered to him and gently pushed at his chest. Joaquin looked at you with love and affection for a moment longer before turning around and wrapping an arm around your waist, posing for the cameras. You two flashed your best smiles and Joaquin tugged you closer, the flashes going off at that.

You giggled and gently put a hand at the back of his head, thumb caressing his curls carefully and he let out a bashful laugh at that, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks reddened. And the photos and videos of the premiere were all over the internet that night.

Are you guys seeing this…..her touching his hair and him going all blushy….god me when???

Oh my god these two aren’t even trying to hide it anymore??? So sick and twisted .

Ur telling me they were matching each other and were all cuddly the whole night and no one batted an eye???? We need to get Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes on the line to spill some tea

Oh my god did y’all see this video of Joaquin forgetting about the interview to look at (Name) entering the venue?/!/!/ ME AND WHO

You and Joaquin spent the whole night laughing at the tweets and posts about you two and he decided to tease them further by posting a picture of you on the red carpet, waving at the crowd and captioned it “People’s princess 👸” and tagged you in it. Everyone lost their minds at that.

-

Finally, the press tour was over and the movie was a huge success and you and Joaquin were able to safely dodge any questions about your relationship. It was unbelievable how well the strategy worked, but it did and you were glad. The movie was going to have another part so you and Joaquin would reunite again and everybody was happy with the news.

Meanwhile, you and Joaquin were still strong as ever, the two of you spent your time at each other’s houses and went on vacations or to visit each other on set. As you approached your two year anniversary, Joaquin asked you to move in and you happily agreed, spending most of your time at his place anyways. On the day of the anniversary the two of you decided to publicly announce your relationship on your birthday, which was approaching soon, so Joaquin had decided to he’d make a post about you and that’s it. No grand announcements or anything. Simple and sweet, just like the two of you.

On the day of your birthday though, you were unfortunately away from home to film for another show, and were pretty bummed about it but Joaquin reassured you that it’s okay and that he’ll be coming to visit you soon. For now, he knew how to brighten your day.

He posted a picture of you two on set— both of you in your costumes and lying down on a couch, your arms around a sleeping Joaquin, whose body was completely on top of you, his head on your chest. Your hands cradled his head, hands buried in his curls and another arm holding him around his back. His arms were looped around you, face relaxed and mouth slightly open, your head leaning against his and your eyes closed in content. His caption: @/joaquint: happy birthday my angel, see you soon. te amo.🤍👼 and he tagged you in it.

Right away, his phone blew up like crazy--fans fawning over you two and excited about the announcement. You were in Europe right now so the time zones meant that he had to wait longer for your response but he was excited for it anyways. Both of your peers congratulated you two, his comments sections filled with thousands of congratulatory messages and the ones that stood out, were from Sam and Bucky, of course.

@/samwilson: Ya'll better thank me and @/jbbarnes for this.

replies

@/jbbarnes: If it wasn't for that night...@/joaquint

@/joaquint: idk what r u two talking about

@/samwilson: Wow. There's a reason why @/youraccountname is our favorite by the way.

@/jbbarnes: Exactly at least she's not ungrateful.

@/joaquint: 🥱

@/fan1: oh?? you guys need to spill the tea..

@/fan2: omg the girls are fightingggg (Name) come get them

@/fan3: 'that night' oh wow i need this story so bad

And 2 hours later, you finally replied to the post--

@/youraccountname: thank you, my quino🥹 i can't wait to see you, te quiero mucho. <3

replies

@/youraccountname: all three of you stop fighting and ft me now @/samwilson @/jbbarnes @/joaquint

@/joaquint: yes ma'am

@/samwilson: yes ma'am

@/jbbarnes: You have become so bossy...But yes we will.

And the fans went crazy over your interactions with each other again.

-

Now that the cat was out of the bag, you and Joaquin felt much relieved and stress free to be spotted together. It’s been 4 years since you two started dating and had officially finished filming the sequel for your superhero movie. This meant press tour for you two—except this time, everyone knows that you’re dating and both of you feel much more comfortable to share about your lives together as well.

Living with Joaquin was a blessing. He was a neat guy, he could cook, he’d help with the chores, he’d keep you entertained with his endless chatter and he was very loving and clingy. He loves cooking for you even though his palate is pretty bland. You tried your best to slowly introduce him to spices but his poor system didn’t agree with it. He’d start crying and his face would get red, which scared you so much that you apologised profusely and vowed to never do it again. He was also very good at keeping you productive—he loved the outdoors so he’d encourage you to go on treks and walks with him and also cheered you on for indulging in any of your hobbies. He’d also help you read scripts with him and quell your worries and anxieties over any projects or just in general. Over all, you were happy and glowing and the credit went entirely to Joaquin.

Joaquin was simply happy to breathe the same air as you. His laughs got brighter, there was a pop in his step, he woke up smiling and went to sleep smiling. He was enjoying living with you a lot. If you were both home, he’d try to make your days as fun as possible and if you had to be away from home, he’d keep the house clean for you, stocking up on your favourite snacks or keeping your things organised—for his favourite activity was looking after you and doting on you. He enjoyed the smallest of moments with you—chopping vegetables for dinner, doing the laundry, watching a boring show or movie while you mindlessly talked to each other, grocery shopping— he loved it all. He loved you and everything that came with you.

He was so excited to do another press tour with you, happy to he spending time with his favourite person in the whole world again. But this time you’d do it as a public couple, everyone knew about you two and he could be freely affectionate with you, without coming off as too strong—just the usual of holding hands, staring at you to his heart‘s content, freely complimenting and flirting with you.

Which brings you to the press tour and this time, the two of you—mainly Joaquin—did not hold back on the affection.

You and Joaquin were sitting in front of a screen again, the setting giving you a déjà vu to that interview four years ago, and you were taking turns to read questions off the screen for the other to answer.

It was your turn to ask the next question-

“Okay, Steal from set?”, you turned to look at Joaquin, who was ready with his answer.

“Your heart”, he shrugged.

“Awww”, you cooed and giggled, your cheeks warming up.

Joaquin just smiled smugly and folded his arms, looking at you intensely.

-

“I think-”

“But, that wasn’t the case though. It could’ve been something else-”, Joaquin accidentally cut you off and seemed to realise his mistake, his face shifting in understanding.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?”, he asked you softly, in an apologetic tone and extended an arm to lay his warm hand on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You paused and felt your cheeks burn up again. You shrugged, “Oh nothing, I agree with you.” Honestly, you don’t even remember what were you talking about because he was holding you so protectively and the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room, was making you dizzy.

“No- but what were you saying”, he pressed gently, his thumb rubbing over your satin shirt before his hand slid back and forth to massage your shoulder. He was attentive like that, always wanting to know what you wanted to say because he knew you got shy easily.

You swallowed your nerves lightly before speaking up, “Um, I was just saying that…”

And Joaquin kept his hand around your shoulder for the entire time, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

-

“So, how was it like filming this time around? Since certain things have…changed”, the interviewer asked, trying to be subtle but failing

You and Joaquin turned to look at each other before breaking out in smiles and leaning closer, shaking your heads bashfully and breaking out in giggles, his arm holding the back of your chair to anchor himself, your back brushing against it occasionally.

“Well, it was great. I got to spend time with my favourite person in the whole world”, Joaquin conceded with a content smile on his face, his hand smoothing over your back. You broke out laughing, your face warming up. The interviewer smiled knowingly and Joaquin looked at you, letting out surprised chuckles of his own.

“What- what happened?”, he let out between chuckles.

You laughed harder and clamped your hand across your mouth, coughing lightly before taking in a deep breath to look up.

“Nothing! nothing. It was fun working with you too”, you finally got out and flashed him a big smile, your cheeks hurting from happiness.

Joaquin shook his head and smiled, your infectious laughter making his heart soar.

-

“I remember being like- don’t worry!-”, Joaquin said while fiddling with his water bottle. Sam chuckled next to him.

“It’s so cool though!”, you added and your leg started moving up and down unknowingly. You did that a lot when you were feeling nervous/anxious or sitting idle.

“-you can hit me, and he was like-”, Joaquin made an oof sound and pretended to punch himself in the ribs while also catching the movement of your leg. “Owww”, Joaquin exclaimed before gently, and subtly, laying a hand on your knee, ceasing the shakes.

“Okay!”, you slowly stopped your leg stopped, you looked at him with gratitude and held the hand on your knee, caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

Sam looked at you two and smirked, shaking his head fondly.

-

“What was the best part about working on this movie?”, the interviewer asked the question to Joaquin.

“The best part about working on this movie was getting to work with (Name)”, Joaquin replied instantly and smiled.

You laughed and looked at him fondly.

“And I would love to work with her again. I wanna work on your show”, Joaquin looked at you and whined dramatically while dragging out the ‘w’.

“Okay! I’ll talk to some people, we’ll get you there, don’t worry!”, you consoled him.

Joaquin let out a ‘Whoop’ and whispered a “Yess”.

-

“Who’s your hero in real life?”

“(Name).” No hesitation whatsoever from Joaquin, his face completely serious.

You laughed before adding “Joaquin Torres. He’s my hero!”

Both of you leaned in at the same time and wrapped your arms around the other, your cheeks pressed together. He rocked your bodies back and forth and you laughed, the swell of your cheeks making him smile brightly and his heart skipping a beat.

-

“(Name), how does a day look like in your household”

You cleared your throat, “So, we wake up, we usually make our breakfast because we’re kind of on a health journey”, you looked at Joaquin and he nodded along.

“And also because Joaquin needs special preparation for his food”, you teased lightly and Joaquin groaned softly, “Aw-nooo, (Name)!”, throwing his head back dramatically.

“Wait- special?”, the interviewer asked curiously.

You laughed and patted Joaquin’s shoulder, “Mr. Torres here cannot handle any kind of spice. And I mean- not even a bit of pepper-”

Joaquin gasped, “That’s not true!”, he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer.

“He’s a sensitive baby, gotta be careful with the precious cargo”, you teased him further and giggled at the look on his face, he was pouting. You pulled his cheek and cooed.

Joaquin grumbled but leaned into your touch.

-

Finally, after that long and fun press tour, it was time for the premiere and once again, Joaquin was giving an interview will keeping an eager eye out for you. It was giving him déjà vu, the crowd’s cheers getting louder, him giving an interview, him getting on his tip toes to see if you had arrived—and you indeed had arrived. Both of you were wearing matching gray suits today—yours was an oversized suit dress and Joaquin was so sure he was going to faint when you came closer.

“Is that (Name)? Oh, she looks so good!”, the interviewer exclaimed, leaning forward to see you.

Joaquin felt himself choke up, a small lump pressed against his throat. “Yeah—that’s her. Looking beautiful as ever, might I add”, he replied in a shaky voice, his eyes shining with tears. Both of you had come so far, and seeing you shine and get the recognition you deserved while standing there and noticing it first hand, was making him feel all soft and mushy. He just wanted to hug you and cry out of pride.

And when you joined him, he looked at you with so much love, pride and joy that it made you stumble back. He gathered you in his arms, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple and you two posed for the cameras. The rest of the night was spent in you two singing praises for each other to every single person on that carpet, all of them looking at you two with adoration and wonder.

“Joaquin was talking about you before you came here, how has it been working with him for the 4th time?”

You let out a content sigh, “It’s been an honour. To know someone so talented and selfless like Joaquin has been so amazing and I’m so lucky that he’s in my life. He’s taught me so much and he’s my rock—so I’m forever grateful for that one show we were cast in because I met my soulmate through that. I cannot wait to do more of this with him”, you confessed and gave the interviewer a sweet smile.

That clip went viral like crazy and everyone wouldn’t stop talking about how sincere, genuine and one of kind you two were for each other. The love between you palpable and real.

While leaving the venue, you got hounded by paparazzi. Flashes went off and blinded you, Joaquin trying his best to shield you from them, his hand grasping yours tightly. But, there were so many people around you asking for autographs that somewhere along the chaos, Joaquin’s hand separated from you and you got lost in a sea of people and hands grabbing you.

You felt the slow panic crawl up your throat, trying your best to relax your shaking hands and swallowing past the lump in your throat with a nervous smile on your face, signing as many books as you could. But the paps kept shoving their heavy cameras in your face and you got pushed, the camera hitting you on the shoulder when suddenly Joaquin pushed past the people and aggressively pushed the paparazzi and fans away, an arm coming up to bring you close to him.

“Don’t touch her!”, Joaquin snarled, his face twisted in anger and voice dropping a few octaves. He pushed everyone away from you again, his hands shaking with fury and jaw clenched so tightly, you were worried he’d hurt his teeth. It was scary as you’ve never seen him this angry, ever.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Quino”, you tried to soothe him, a hand massaging his shoulder but he wasn’t having any of it, tugging you impossibly closer to him, bringing you into his chest and helping you get in the car.

Once you were in the car, he took a few deep breaths in and turned to hold your face gently into his hands.

“Are you okay?”, he asked quietly. You were still recovering from that mini panic attack so you just brought your shaky hands up to hold his wrists and nodded weakly against his palms.

Joaquin’s eyebrows furrowed in worry, “You’re shaking, baby, c’mere”, he removed his hands and gestured you to lean against him, your face pressed into his chest and his arms around your back.

“Thank you”, you murmured into his suit and hugged him closer. He leaned his chin on top of your head before pressing a lingering kiss to it, his hands smoothing against your back. He had never felt so scared before as he did a few minutes ago. Not being able to see you or feeling your hand drop from his in a mob full of people, made him feel like his heart was going to explode.

He doesn’t give a fuck if the media calls him an asshole or aggressive, all caution goes out of the window the moment you’re in danger. He saw your breaths quicken, he saw the way your hands shook as you hated crowded places. And come what may, he’d do anything to protect you, even if it cost him his own career.

Little did he know that he was praised, for his protectiveness and for having a spine to defend his partner in public, all over the world.

-

2 Years Later

Joaquin Torres knew he was going to be with you for life from the moment he saw you. Everything about you was magnetic and beautiful. He couldn’t help but be completely and totally in love with you. If he ever decided to write about his feelings for you, he’d have to write thousands of novels because he had so much to say and so much to appreciate. Instead, he showed it with his actions—acts of service and touch being his primary love languages.

He’d do anything for you— everyone knew that. He’d get on his knees and worship you. You were everything, you made him into a better man. Your kindness, your courage, your love—it made his chest ache and soar at the same time.

He’d picked out a ring for you, 2 years ago, on your birthday. Thought he’d propose right away but he was afraid, Sam and Bucky tried to knock some sense into him but he told them he wanted to wait. Wait until the of you were ready, wait until he got some hints from you that you wanted to settle down with him.

But that ring was ready. It was a simple golden band with a square cut diamond on it. Classy and elegant—just like you. It was sitting in his office for 2 years now. He’d started to drop hints about marriage, you humoured him and painted a lovely picture of it—a sweet wedding ceremony, adopting a dog or a cat later and then kids. You wanted it too. That’s all he needed to get the push to finally pop the question.

You were both older and mature now, almost nearing your 30s. He yearned for that happily ever after with you, wanting to live a life of happiness and love.

So he took you to the place where it all began—the pier overlooking the city skyline where he first confessed his feelings to you.

“Oh, it’s been so long since we came here, no?”, you asked him with a quiet voice, your head slightly turned to the side to watch his pretty profile.

The two of you were standing on a deck overlooking the pier and the ocean, with you pressed against the railing and his arms caging you against it, your back against his chest. You were wearing jeans and a red sweater, his request, and he was wearing a black crewneck paired with jeans.

The gentle ocean air carried the smell of salt and swept your hair, fly aways on your forehead and his curls tousled. He looked down at you, your face illuminated by the orange tinge of the setting sun and felt his heart hammer against his chest, the velvet box making his pocket heavier.

"Yeah", he replied just as quietly, his voice cracking out of nervousness. Joaquin leaned in to press a careful kiss against your hairline and you cuddled closer to him, his arms around your stomach bringing you closer to his chest. He cleared his throat and whispered your name, bringing your attention back to him. You opened your eyes and turned around to face him, his arms holding your hips. His face was set in a nervous frown, eyebrows drawn close tightly and eyes shining with unshed tears. Your face shifted with worry.

"Quino? You okay?", you asked him softly and cupped his chin in your palm. Joaquin swallowed before squeezing your hips.

"Angel...I- I was doing just fine before you came into my life. Thought I had everything and I was happy. But, then you entered- with your beautiful soul and infectious smile and I knew what was I missing", Joaquin paused as he felt himself choke up from the tears he was keeping at bay. You stared him, face frozen with disbelief and nervousness. He took your hand on his chin and held it against his heart.

"You were the missing piece of my life. You complete me. You're my everything and I'd do anything for you. I'll- I'll cut the onions for you if they hurt your eyes too much, I'll wake up at 3 am if you feel like eating something or if you can't sleep, and- and I promise to let you drool over my shoulder when you sleep", you guffawed, while he let out a watery chuckle at that.

"You captivated me every single day. I find out something new to love about every day- be it the way you stop to pet every single street cat that you see, or-or the fact that you talk to our plants because it's good for their nourishment, the way you stand up for the vulnerable and always put the ones in need before you--you are literally an angel. Sometimes I feel like you protect me more than I do you. But--let me promise you that I will protect and love you till we are old and gray and our kids have left our nest. I will love you as long as I breathe. You're my heart, my soul and my life", he whispered the last part, his hands shaking and eyes overflowing with tears.

You snapped your eyes up, staring at him in surprise before he gently pulled away from you to retrieve a velvet box from his pocket and opened it. You gasped at the ring, it was so you. He went down on one knee and you covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed with shock and emotion. "So, will you marry me, (Name)?", he asked you nervously, his voice wavering.

You sniffled and looked at him, the setting sun making his sharp features pop out, his curly hair messed up by the wind and his gorgeous face shining with tears. You let out a cry and pulled him up before tackling him in a hug, causing him to stumble back and hold you tighter.

"Yes! Oh god, a thousand times, YES!", you cried against his shoulder and he cradled your head before rocking your bodies back and forth. He pulled away and held your left hand in his, sliding the ring on and you squealed before smushing his face in your palms and crashing your lips against his.

He let out a surprised chuckle against your lips and brought you closer, a hand grabbing the back of your neck and the other hand holding your waist. The two of you pulled back, breathless and lips swollen and leaned your forehead against each other. You buried your hands in his curls and kissed his cheeks thrice. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and stared at you lovingly before kissing your forehead, cheeks and the corner of your mouth.

When you got back home, Joaquin told you that Sam and Bucky were actually there, clicking pictures of the proposal and you had laughed heartily before crying out of happiness when you saw the beautiful pictures, your happy and emotional faces surrounded by a breath taking sunset.

You two posted the pictures to your account, one of him kneeling and your hands covering your face and the other where you were leaning your foreheads against each other, with the caption: ..and they lived happily ever after.❤️💍

Fin.

-

AN: AHHHH i hope you guys liked this!!! i love tom and zendaya so much that their story was an inspo for this and their interviews + that video of him protecting zendaya from the paps were what i mentioned here so credits to them, hehe. i love quino and angel a lot pls i almost cried. pls like and reblog!

taglist: @parkersjoy @taylorsroxy @rylonmari @lastofdanny @lovelylupin04 @bingingcontentrn @ny0sang @incxpti0n @og-baby-ob14 @sidkneeeee (sorry if I didn’t tag anyone!!)

[vanswarpedtour]

We sat down to chat with MySpace’s beloved MILLIONAIRE$ about their return to the Warped stage, old mems, and excitement for what’s to come. Learn how to LIVE FA$T and PARTY HARD before catching them at all three stops in DC, Long Beach, and Orlando this year!

How does it feel to come back and play Vans Warped Tour in 2025?

Melissa: When we got the offer, I legit was like, “REALLY? It’s actually back?!?” In my mind, it was not gonna come back.

Meredith: When I found out I was in disbelief, I was like, “Really???”

What’s your craziest Warped memory?

Melissa: [The realization] didn’t hit me until the moment I walked onto the stage for the first time. I’d never done a FESTIVAL festival…nothing like Warped Tour. I remember walking on stage and being like “Woah! Am I ready for this?”

We were treated like the losers, like the outcasts. Another girl in the band, someone threw a shoe and hit her in the face. We got a lot of shit talked to us that we laugh about now. I think it’s this redemption thing, playing this year. Like, “Fuck all you guys! Look who’s still fucking here bitch!”  

Meredith: I was going to Warped Tour every summer…I have great memories of lying to my mom and telling her I was spending the weekend at a friend’s house, and then getting in a car with a bunch of kids and driving up to Dallas in a beater not knowing if we’re gonna make it *laughs.* And then just getting a gnarly sunburn, and hanging out with my friends, not even really caring who’s on the lineup, we’re just going for the vibe.

What’s something you have to do before every performance?

Meredith: For our headline shows, we’ll have our DJ play a set, and we’ve curated that playlist with our favorite music. We hype up beforehand and dance around backstage!

Melissa: We also do our little “double double” hand thing…

Meredith: Yeah we also do uh, *patty cake/elevator hand game motion* little hand clap thing–

Melissa: And we also have nails on, so it’s like this *awkwardly does the hand motion.*

Meredith: Yeah, instead of a huddle we do a little secret handshake thing.

What’s your favorite song to perform live and why?

Melissa: I don’t know! That’s a hard one! No matter what order the set is, the first song when we jump on stage is the most hype. Also, we normally play “Alcohol” last. I think that one is so ingrained, everyone is having fun. I’m so excited to be on stage, and it’s sad to have to leave the stage, so it’s like giving my last moment of “Let’s just do it!” even if I’m exhausted.

Meredith: Yeah, that one’s just so iconic. And no matter who you are, I feel like everyone knows the words, and it’s easy to sing along even if you don’t. By that time, everyone’s balls to the walls. My favorite song is “Stay the Night.” The melody is really fun, and the dance we do to it is like old school Dream Girls vibes, and I like those types of songs.

Describe MILLIONAIRE$ in three words.

Meredith: Unapologetic. Iconic. Hot.

Melissa: Party. Besties 🫶. DGAF.

What’s your favorite part of Vans Warped Tour?

Meredith: Seeing so many friends that are also on the lineup. I think it’s really fun that we all get to do this together and it’s gonna feel almost like summer camp in a way *laughs.* Hanging out, seeing lots of friends, and watching a lot of bands that we love–there’s so many bands on the lineup that we’re both fans of. At the end of the day, even though we’re playing, we’re fans of this music, so that’s cool!

Melissa: It’s so nice to hang out again with the people we grew up listening to. Getting to see them perform and performing alongside them is a really cool feeling. I’m so happy to say they’re keeping the scene alive in Warped Tour too.

If you could collaborate with any other band or artist, who would it be and why?

Meredith: We got asked this last year at When We Were Young, and I think we said Charli XCX. That would be crazy. Maybe a metalcore band would be cool. We’re both fans of metalcore and there’s a lot of bands in the scene that are awesome right now. Yeah, I think that would be so fun!

Melissa: Yeah, and we could sing with them, or do our cutesy rap too! I would want to do a song or a tour with people that still want to keep the scene alive. I just wanna have fun, it’s not some competition. When we do shows and songs, I want it to be fun, I like that part of music!

Do you have anything exciting planned for your Warped set (that we can know about)?

Meredith: Party vibes, fun, and high energy. We’re working on a way to spice it up even more.

Are there any new or upcoming releases fans should keep an eye out for?

Meredith: We’re planning to do another release with Graveboy Records which is really exciting. To be determined when that’s gonna be, but new music is on the way, and maybe some other stuff that we can’t talk about yet.

What tips do you have for up-and-coming bands/artists?

Melissa: Never give up. No matter who talks shit about you, I don’t care, never give up! Just believe in it. It’s always been in my heart, a lot of people are like, “How are you still wearing the bow?” and all this mean stuff–it’s like dude, this is just me! Believe in your music, because other people will believe in it too.

[scribblecon]

Your latest Megatron x Reader fic is stuck on my head, thinking about it repeatedly. I love if so much.

I am excited for the next chapter

The wait is finally over!! Here’s part two :)) also want to thank my buddy @peachypede for letting me bombard her with ideas for this and sharing her thoughts on them 💖

SFW, GN reader

part 1

Cultural Exchange Part Two

—

It’s time for another meeting with Megatron. Yesterday ended with you impulsively forming a book club for two and now you get to find out if he actually read a romance novel on your recommendation or not. You take a deep breath and enter the room, taking your usual seat near the doorway, body tense. He’s already sat in his corner of the room, of course. Waiting.

“I read the novel.”

“You actually read Pride and Prejudice?” Blinking in surprise, you weren’t expecting him to keep his word.

“Yes.”

“… What did you think?”

“The fixation on ‘marriage’ makes little sense. Surely there are more important things for the Bennett sisters to focus on than finding a sparkmate.”

“That’s a pretty dismissive reading.”

“What else is there to say? It’s a frivolous story about a group of people with too much time on their hands, shamelessly chasing romantic relationships.”

You stare at him open mouthed, trying to think of a response. He can’t be serious. His expression gives away nothing as he waits for you to speak and you can feel your face heat with frustration. You offer up a potential conversation topic because he isn’t willing to come up with one himself and this is all he has to say? Rude. Extremely rude. The tension in your body increases as you shift from nervousness to indignation.

“I suggested you read one of the most well-known novels in human history and you’re writing it off just like that? Did you actually read the story or did you download it into your brain module and call it a day?” You glare at Megatron, voice sharp. “Because it sounds to me like you didn’t even try to understand the point of the story.”

The corners of his lips quirk upwards in amusement at your reaction, wondering if it’s normal for humans to get so precious over a mere work of fiction. He’s never known his fellow cybertronians to act this way, though he struggles to recall the last time any of his kind published a novel in the first place, let alone one worth fussing over.

You know that getting angry isn’t going to make interacting with him any easier. Reminding yourself that you’re doing a job, that it’s only for an hour, you turn his words over in your mind. Need to think of something constructive to say. It’s true marriage and romance are the main themes of the story, but calling the entire cast shamelessly obsessed is a bit extreme. Either he’s a total prude or there’s a cultural difference getting in the way. You exhale, letting go of your remaining frustration before speaking again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“By all means.”

“I’ve been told that conjunx endurae are your species equivalent to marriage, but is there anything legally binding about entering that sort of relationship for cybertronians?”

“No.” His expression turns to a frown.

“And how common is it for cybertronians to become conjunx?”

“Most of us never do.” Megatron’s frown deepens, the line of enquiry at risk of becoming too personal too fast for his liking. Needs to shut it down. “More importantly, those kinds of relationships are considered private affairs. It isn’t usually something to be discussed openly.”

Come to think of it, you’ve been part of the Lost Light’s crew since before Megatron joined and romance hasn’t cropped up in conversation much, if at all, since you’ve started hanging out with cybertronians. Maybe romance just isn’t a priority for a race that doesn’t reproduce? At least this gives you something to work with.

“That’s so different to humans… a lot of us see getting married as the ultimate symbol of romantic love, but really it’s just a legal contract and the ceremony part is optional.” You can feel yourself relaxing as you continue. Somehow it’s easier to talk when you have something you can teach. “Back in the regency period, marriage was about financial security and social standing over and above anything else. Due to laws at the time, if a woman didn’t find a suitable husband she’d be at risk of becoming destitute. You didn’t pick up on that at all?”

“That’s why Mrs Bennett was so insistent on Elizabeth marrying Mr Collins…”

So he was paying attention after all… you allow a small smile to grace your lips. “She didn’t want her family to be rendered homeless upon her husband’s death, so, yeah in her eyes it was the best case scenario to marry Elizabeth off.”

“By that logic, Elizabeth was naïve and a fool to reject him.”

“Yes, but would you be happy spending the rest of your life attached to someone like that? Their personalities were a terrible match. They’d have been extremely unhappy together.”

Megatron thinks for a moment, snippets of dialogue from the book coming back to him. Something about Mr Collins’s sycophancy towards Lady de Bourghs does feel familiar... He knew there was a reason he stopped communicating with Tarn directly millennia ago.

“In a way, I already have…” He mumbles to himself, barely audible from where you’re sitting on the other side of the room.

“What was that?”

Megatron clears his intake, ignoring your question. “So which is more important to a successful marriage, security or happiness? This is unnecessarily complicated.”

“It depends on the person? I hate to break it to you, but much like cybertronians, humans are very complicated creatures. Consider Charlotte…”

—

“… now do you understand why marriage is so important in this story?”

Megatron nods in confirmation, appearing deep in thought. Having just spent the better part of the hour going over every relationship in Pride and Prejudice with him, you’ve been attempting to make him understand some of the myriad reasons as to why humans might get married. It became fairly obvious to you while discussing Mr Collins that he had, in fact, read the novel more closely than he initially let on. You don’t care if you’re just explaining things he’s already figured out though. A conversation is happening and you finally have something to say to Ultra Magnus. It’s not much, but he’ll probably be pleased with even a millimetre of progress right now.

Megatron is mildly impressed by you. Granted, he’s not exactly trying very hard, so naturally you’d be the one leading the conversation. But with a little provocation and something to focus on, you seem to lose any sense of fear towards him — watching you flare with indignation at his dismissive remarks before shifting to curiosity was nothing short of amusing. So small, yet more than willing to stand your ground, even over something as inconsequential as a work of fiction.

He also has to admit that this Jane Austen’s writing was of a better quality than he expected. The continuous discussions of relationships were initially jarring and uncomfortable, so completely different to cybertronian customs, but the prose and humour were enjoyable enough. He’d even go so far as to call the main dynamic between Elizabeth and Darcy compelling, though he has no interest in voicing these opinions out loud for the time being.

The sound of an alarm goes off, interrupting his thoughts.

“Well,” you say, standing up and stretching your arms above your head. “Time for me to go.”

“Not going to suggest I read another human novel before you leave?”

You pause, nose crinkling as you turn to look back at him. “I did pretty much all the talking today so… you pick something.”

Without waiting for a response, you walk out the room. When the door closes behind you, he can hear your footsteps break into a run until they fade into the distance. Clearly, as much as you enjoy talking about literature, you still dislike being around him more. And that’s fine. He hardly knows what to make of you either.

[omgfangirlland]

Dude, Imagine a reader being isekaid in Gotham. Reader has a system which prevents them from dying so they're kinda immortal. What I mean is that reader can die but they'll get revived again and again. Of course.. Since it's Gotham, she gets killed on her first night. Imagine where there are certain things she gotta do to unlock some abilities but she doesn't know what or how to unlock it. A reader who was happy at being isekaid before she slowly realized the reality she was on now (happy character to gloomy and depressed reader). Imagine a reader who's slowly losing it as she dies for the 99th time.. How life slowly does in her eyes. Randomly thought of this as I was reading a quotev story of a Reader x record of Ragnarok. This sucks cause I wrote this at 3am with one eye closed. ➖👄👁 (me rn)

-🔱

OMG GO TO SLEEEP (I'll probably stay awake until 5 am so really, who am I to talk-)

Tried to keep this GN!Reader, but I may have slipped. This may be gruesome soooo fair warning from now: Dead dove do not eat, gore, blood, death, everyone is getting traumatized tbh, suicide mentioned, trying to make it funny but it gets dark quick, lots of shit like that

Some things before starting:

I've always liked the idea of Isekaid!Reader- add to that Immortal-but-not-really!Reader who remembers every death? Amazing angst.

Reader who is immortal in the sense that she regenerates, no matter how small the piece left is, she'll be back up and running by the next day, maybe the next week if the piece is really small- but you'll see her again! And like Deathstroke, the regeneration keeps her "in her prime" as well, so if she died young, like 16, she'd stop aging by 25-30(tbh this would prob be another layer to the trauma)

I imagine the way to level up is in a dead magical language, a forgotten dialect of some god, etc.

This could turn into a multi chaptered fic... This could be Romantic!Batfam... This could be Romantic!The Immortal Version!Wonder Woman... This could be Romantic!Ra's and Talia 😈 IT could be all three options 😈😈😈 It's def yandere/obsessive territory either way.

---

No matter how Reader actually died in real life, mugging gone wrong, the classic bus/truck moment, suicide, etc etc, it'll probably be brushed off as a dream in a dream once you realize you've woken up in Gotham.

So, of course Reader dies the first night. "Oh- it's just a dream, let me do crazy shit like going into rich people's places-"Yeah you end up in a hostage situation.

Now- you wanted to be sneaky, play vigilante for shits and giggles, you weren't as amused when you were eye to eye with a bomb.

Now, Batsy thinks everything is fine- he got everyone out, the area is evacuated, and everything can be rebuilt. And then he hears Oracle gasp, saying someone is face to face with the bomb. It's Jason all over again, from him running towards the building, to your shoulders slumping in defeat as the clock ticks zero, to Bruce being in utter shock as he tries to move on as the smell of burnt human flesh once again sticks to him, bringing back his sleepless nights and blank stare.

You weren't worried, thinking you'd just wake up and go to your normal life. But you wake up in pain as bones, veins, nerves, meat, and skin regrow, as the fabric that was melted into your skin is expelled, clear skin taking over. It was excruciating. It left you screaming and crying, your body shaking on the metal table. And it left the mortician who was about to work on you passed out on the floor.

When the old woman wakes up, the only evidence that she didn't hallucinate is the missing change of clothes, CCTV recordings showing you stumbling out of the building, barely able to walk, and a small smear of liquid gold.

Bruce's guilt was eating him. He's memorized your face at this point, every pixel, the way your shoulders dropped, to the way you resigned to your fate. And he starts to see you in random places, looking at him from over the street as he's swarmed by reporters, in the local cemetery, on Red Hood's territory. So he goes to the morgue.

When the bat comes knocking for any information on you, for any blood he can test to find out who you are, so Bruce Wayne can send some guilt money to your family, the woman pales, multiple prayers to different gods spewing out of her lips. Another employee, not quite as terrified but still shaken, tells him everything, even shows him the recording.

From everything, he'd have assumed a trauma-born meta-gene, but the liquid gold smear and the pure fact that you should have been dead, no discussion had, gave him pause. Maybe it was a Dark Justice League problem.

You've died so much, you stopped counting, what use was it anyway? You tried leaving Gotham, but every time something would happen, from almost getting decapitated, it was so weird to feel your neck sewing itself in place, to being run over, to being shot Bonnie and Clyde style. So much happened, and you remember it all. You remember the pain, the way your blood seeped through your wounds, the crack of your bones.

But you also remember waking up from imminent death, the red blood now golden and melting into the ground, the pain of everything mending, over and over again. You stopped trying, taking refuge in the safest territory you knew. You also stopped looking into reflections. You couldn't take what you saw, what you would hear if you stared long enough- letters and whispered words in a language you couldn't recognize, dark figures in the corner of your eye, hands clutching at you- it was too much, a never ending nightmare.

It didn't matter who you were in your past life, in Gotham, you are a nobody, and even so, the Bat and his birds found you quite quickly. Granted, you working for gangs and occasionally the Penguing wasn't exactly low profile, but no one else would hire you without needing some form of documents. Documents you no longer have. So you took to cleaning up The Lounge and turning a blind eye to everything that was happening, to the drugs, to the scream coming from the basement you weren't supposed to know existed, everything. The way Penguing pays, you'd play dumb for as long as he was alive, honestly. Soon enough, you'd be able to afford a house.

Of course- you were trying to avoid Batsy and whatever robin he currently had, what would you even say to him if you could catch a one-on-one moment? "I know everything about every version of you because I'm from another world, I found out I'm immortal, and need a sugar daddy."? Jail. Straight to Arkham. Nobody would believe you. But you were already on his radar, and when he emerged from the shadows of your small apartment, you understood why the goons were so afraid of him.

[nakylvr]

would anyone like dealer dani angst/fluff...

like i keep thinking about dani having a bad high from all of the stress with being in jail and having to start all over so ofc she's going to smoke weed to feel more relaxed but sadly it doesn't go well and having to help her through her high ☹️

my shayla ☹️ this is so ☹️☹️

— troubled waters

warnings/tags: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, f!reader, dealer!dani au, language, drug usage (marijuana), arguments, happy ending yay

part of the substance series

in the nearly three years you've been dating daniela, there were only a few times where she would have a bad high. she would usually just get paranoid about random things which left you picking up the pieces to ensure that she doesn't do something stupid or maybe say the wrong thing.

then there was this time.

barely a month after everything went down, and things were starting to feel a little normal now. it was going to be a slow process, you knew that. it would take time for things to be fully back to normal. but this was the last thing you expected to happen.

you made dani lay low for the month, not doing any deals or anything related to the sort while everything dies down, and you could tell she wasn't happy about it. she tried to argue with you, but you gave her a look that told her how serious you were and she reluctantly agreed to it. which meant she was stuck in the house even more than she normally would be. you thought it would be fine considering she rarely leaves the place anyways. apparently you were wrong.

you texted dani that you were on your way home from work, asking if she needed anything while you were driving, and you received no response. while this wasn't exactly odd, it wasn't normal either. if she was asleep she would wake up because you're notifications sounds were different than everyone else's. you tried not to think too much on it, just driving home and unconsciously preparing for what you might walk into.

you should've been more prepared.

the second you walk through the front door you're met with the smell of smoke, which would be normal if it weren't for the burning smell along with it. you walk past the living room straight to the bedroom, opening the door and seeing her.

"dani," you say, but she doesn't look up. you can see the beer bottles along with half smoked blunts across the bedding, and you have to bite your tongue to keep you from instantly snapping at ruining the bedding. you take a step closer, then spotting the actually lit blunt burning into the sheet. "daniela!" you say more sternly, grabbing her hand and taking the blunt from her, quickly putting it out in the ashtray.

daniela finally looks at you now. and when you look into her eyes, your breath hitches. red and glossy, but filled with more emotion than she could explain.

"dani?" you let out softly.

"am i a bad person?" is the first words that leave her mouth.

"what?" you question.

"i'm not." she shakes her head. "i'm not a good person."

"dani, what are you talking about?" your hands reach for her face but she grabs them and moves them away, a pang of hurt going through you at the action.

"you don't deserve me," she mumbles. "i don't deserve you."

"daniela, what are you saying?" you ask, trying to remain calm and collected.

"why didn't you leave me in there?" her eyes meet yours, and you swear your heart stops for a second. "why?"

"because i love you," you immediately respond. "i wouldn't do that for just anybody."

"not megan?"

"dani." your voice lowers an octave, already seeing where she was going with this. "don't start that."

"start what?" daniela suddenly gets off the bed, standing in front of you. "start saying the shit i want to say?"

taking a deep breath, you manage to keep yourself from snapping. "you're drunk and probably higher than you should be. you don't know what you're say–"

"i know what i'm saying!" daniela interrupts you. "i know what i am saying!" you subconsciously flinch when her voice raises, but she doesn't seem to notice. "i don't deserve someone like you. you shouldn't be with me of all people. i-i'm not a good person. i-i don't do anything good. you should've left me. you should've stayed with sophia or someone else just not me."

your body tenses up when she mentions sophia. you know sober she knows better than to speak of her, but with the alcohol and weed mixed in her system she's spilling it all out. "you know sophia wasn't good to me, dani," you say to her. "you're a good person, daniela."

"what do i do for a living, yn?" she looks at you expectantly. "i sell people weed. that's my lame fuckass job! yo-you have a real job! you work in an office! you have people under you! you have people who respect you! you can call out and still get money that day! meanwhile i haven't done shit for a month and now we're barely making rent money!"

"i am doing my best and you know that," you tell her, pointing at her. "i worked my ass off to get this job. i'm working my ass off keeping our house while you lay low like i told you to. you can go back to it in a few weeks, that's what i told you. i didn't say you had to."

"obviously i have to!" daniela throws her hands around in the air. "if i don't listen to you god knows what will happen!"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

"it means i'm not your fucking puppy like you treat megan," daniela tells you.

"excuse me?" you let out surprised.

"i mean–"

"think very carefully before you say your next words, daniela," you cut her off sternly, losing your patience by the second. "don't say something stupid."

"you think you can tell me everything. what i can do, what i can't do, what i shouldn't do, what i have to do. everything!" she exclaims. "i'm done listening to you!"

you take another deep breath, your fingers twitching showing you were close to snapping. "look, daniela. i never said you had to listen to me, you just did. you always have. do not put that on me when i have never once told you to do anything and made you do it. you–"

"just listen and do! i know!" daniela yells. "i do because i'm scared you'll leave if i don't!"

a moment of silence passes before she continues. "i fucked up so fucking bad that i ended up in jail and you ended up traumatized because i didn't even hear you out! i listen because i'm too stupid to figure out anything myself! i-i can't remember the last time i did my own taxes, or even the last time i double checked the income because you help me. you help me with everything and i appreciate that so much but fuck i feel so useless." her voice cracks and she balls her hands into fists, covering her eyes that were furiously tearing up. "i-i feel like i can't do anything anymore, or i fuck it up when i try. and i don't want to fuck up what i have with you. i love y-you so fucking much a-and i'm fucking terrified of screwing up again and you l-leave." the tears start rolling down her cheeks, her breaths coming out shallow and short. "i don't know wh-what i'd do without you."

your gaze softens when she starts rambling, and you uncross your arms and take a few steps towards her. hesitantly, you reach out and grab her arm, pulling her into your arms and holding her tightly. she tries to push you away, murmuring "let go" under her breath, but your arms tighten around her, keeping her close to you.

"it's okay, you're okay," you mumble as she cries into your chest. "everything's okay, i promise. nothing's going to happen. i'm not going anywhere." you press a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "i love you so much, i'm staying right here. i promise."

daniela's body trembles with the sobs wracking through her, her arms finally wrapping around you and allowing herself to feel vulnerable for once in her life. "i'm s-sorry for ev-everything."

"don't do that." you shake your head. "you don't have to apologize, i'm not mad. i promise." you kiss her head again. "everything is okay."

she still mumbles incoherent words that you can't understand past her cries, but you can get a gist of what she's saying through the sobs. you keep her close to you, feeling your shirt getting progressively more damp with her tears, but you didn't mind.

you were unsure how long it had been of her crying before she went quiet, her head still pressing against your chest trying to calm her breathing back down. her fingers were curled around the material of your shirt, loosening slightly as she finally calms down.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, running your hand through her hair.

"yeah," she mumbles with a nod, pulling her head away and looking at you. "i'm sorry. i didn't think–"

"it's okay," you interject, shaking your head. "everyone has bad highs once in a while, and you drinking doesn't help. but it's okay."

"i didn't mean it," her voice cracks, and you can see the tears building again at her realizing what she said. "i'm so sorry."

"hey, hey." you move your hands to cup her face, wiping away the few stray tears with your thumbs. "it's okay. i know you're–we're still going through everything, but we're together in this, okay? the two of us, like it's always been. it's still us. nothing else matters. i love you so much, and i don't want to lose you if this happens again. you are a good person, daniela. even if you don't think it, i do. i love you, and only you. forever."

daniela's bottom lip trembles as you speak, a choked sob escaping her mouth and she nods. "i love you too," she whispers. "i love you so much."

"i know." you smile softly at her. "but you're gonna have to pay for the new bedding, okay? i spent too much on this last one."

"okay." she nods again. "you'll help me pick it out, right?"

"of course," you respond. "i know you wouldn't pick a good color."

"rude," she laughs.

"you love me." your smile grows bigger.

"i do." she smiles back.

[nightsart]

Slides in. drops this.

Hello. I am normal about Khan and Nori Doorman. Come closer.

Lyrics are from here but the rest of the song has nothing to do with this drawing lOL

I didn't draw Nori in her lab gown/barefooted because I Didn't Want To so she's in the jacket that we see her in in the family photo in the pilot (under the cut) I like to think it's actually Khan's <3

Not 1000% on the colors I picked out for them but it works for now <3

[kino-der-infizierten]

THEORY ABOUT BREAK ON THROUGH!!!

WARNING: MAJOR BLACK OPS COLD WAR + BLACK OPS 6 SPOILERS

While Break on Through is loading you can hear "Perseus" saying things to Bell

“Do not trust Adler. Adler is lying to you. Do not trust Adler. Do not listen to Adler. He is lying to you. Find the truth. He is lying to you. Do not trust Adler.”

Perseus' lines in Break on Through loading screen

We know that Bell was a commander (when selected non-binary/classified gender Perseus' operatives call Bell "commander" in Ashes to Ashes) and Perseus' right hand which means there's a high chance that they were very loyal to Perseus, at the point of not telling anything at any method of interrogation the CIA used.

But it would be impossible to actually be him, and even if he somehow could get into Bell's head literally, he still didn't had no reason to, Volkov tells Bell Perseus wanted them DEAD and that is stated MULTIPLE times. He clearly was unaware that Bell was brainwashed and didn't willingly betrayed him.

“That makes this much less unpleasant for you. Perseus has been looking for this one.”

“Perseus has a large bounty on your head.”

“Perseus is paying me a fortune to smuggle his merchandise out of Europe. I bet he’ll pay even more when he finds out I’ve killed you.”

Anton Volkov's lines when Bell gets captured by Franz Kraus in Brick in the Wall.

So then while replaying Break on Through over and over came the idea that maybe the Perseus we see it's actually Bell's mind trying to break out of the MK-ULTRA brainwash

Adler says more about the drug used in Bell in Black Ops 6 when preparing that same drug for Harrow

“Its official name is phenosorazine, but MK-Ultra coined it "Separation". I've had it for a while. Let's hope it doesn't have an expiration date.”

“In most test subjects, it fragmented their psyche. A form of induced schizophrenia. We're gonna find the part of Harrow that's willing to talk to us.”

Russell Adler explaining about the drug used in MK-ULTRA in The Rook: Interrogation (Black Ops 6)

Bell's mind could've separated his loyal part from the rest, which was ""personified"" as Perseus, just like Harrow has her normal side and the 'crazy'(?) side in Separation Anxiety.

This part of Bell wanted them to break out of the brainwashing, using the figure of Perseus because they would listen to the man they were loyal for so long.

And clearly it wasn't only in the Break on Through intro that Bell's loyal part tried to break the brainwashing.

During the mission it gets to a point you enter Perseus' office(?) and it's full of notes, possibly what Bell was thinking during the interrogation/brainwashing, with some being like Bell actually talking with themselves, while others looks like someone else talking with them, which would be his "Perseus" side (not putting all of them here):

"На кого они работают?" → Who do they work for?

"Кто они?" → Who are they?

"HE ДОВЕРЯТЬ НИКОМУ" → DON'T TRUST ANYONE

"не доверяй никому, кроме себя" → Trust no one but yourself

"ОСТАНОВИ ЭТО " → MAKE IT STOP

"ПЦРУ или КГБ?" → CIA or KGB?

"Они хотят убить тебя" → They want to kill you

"Вы знаете, что боль больше?" Do you know that there's more pain? (??)

"Что они с тобой Долают?" What are they doing to you?

"ВЫ Должны БОРЬБА" → You must FIGHT

"УБИРАЙСЯ" → GET OUT

"do you hear it?"

"DO NOT TRUST"

"THEY WANT TO KILL YOU"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"TELL ME WHO I AM!"

"MAKE IT STOP"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

"WHERE AM I?"

"WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER?"

"WHO IS PERSEUS?" [medusa drawing]

"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE HERE"

"DON'T TRUST ADLER" [pic of Adler]

"PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN"

TL;DR

The Perseus voice we hear in Break on Through is actually Bell's side that's still loyal to Perseus trying to break out from the brainwashing

[movingmusically]

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 19

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist

Austin hadn’t really noticed it at first.

Not in a way that stood out, not in a way that made him stop and think.

It was just… things.

Her shoes, next to his by the door.

Her hairbrush, resting on his dresser like it had always been there.

Her book, splayed open on the coffee table, the spine cracked in a way that suggested it had been well-loved—or at least abandoned in the middle of a gripping chapter.

Little things. Quiet things.

And yet, somehow, they carried weight.

He never asked if she was staying. She never said she was.

But she hadn’t gone back to Callum’s, and he hadn’t questioned it.

Because waking up to the sound of her moving around the kitchen felt normal.

Because coming home after filming and finding her curled up on his couch, laptop open, tea gone cold beside her, felt right.

Because she never had to ask where he kept things anymore—she just knew.

She’d slipped into his space like she belonged there.

And Austin?

He didn’t want her to leave.

Didn’t even want to think about it.

Because the thought of coming home and not finding her there felt off, like something he wasn’t quite ready to look at head-on.

Like something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

And maybe that should’ve scared him.

But it didn’t.

It just settled, deep in his chest.

Like it had always been there.

Austin flipped through his script, half-focused, the words blurring together. He had most of it down already, but routine was routine. Repetition made the lines second nature.

Angie was curled up on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through something on her phone. He nudged her ankle with his foot. “Help me run lines?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who am I playing?”

“Egan.”

A slow grin spread across her face. “So you want me to be Callum.”

Austin huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I just need you to read his lines, Bucky.”

She sat up, cracking her neck like she was preparing for battle. “No, no, I’m getting into character.” She slouched back dramatically, legs spread wide, an easy smirk settling onto her lips. “‘Sup, mate?’” she said in the closest approximation of Callum’s accent she could manage.

Austin groaned, already regretting this. “Oh my God—”

“Oi, don’t break character, Cleven,” she cut in, holding up a finger. “We’re about to have a moment.”

Biting back a laugh, he exhaled through his nose, then found his spot in the script. He read his next line, straight-faced, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted.

Angie skimmed her part, then shot him a look. “Oh, wait—this is the Blue Skies scene.”

Austin nodded. “Yeah. The part where you—”

“Where I sing,” she interrupted, waggling her eyebrows.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

“Never saw the sun, shining so bright—”

Austin let his head fall back against the couch. “Oh, God.”

“Never saw things going so right—”

She went all in, arm sweeping dramatically like she was about to launch into a full-on musical number.

Austin covered his face with his hands, laughing. “This is an actual job for me, you know.”

Angie wasn’t deterred. “That’s nice, Cleven, but do you know what this scene is missing?”

“No.”

She leaned forward, voice dropping conspiratorially. “Vocals.”

He stared at her, deadpan. “I hate you.”

She beamed. “No, you don’t.”

He didn’t. Not even close.

Austin shook his head, running a hand over his face. “You’re the worst scene partner I’ve ever had.”

“That’s a bold claim,” she said, grinning. “Bet Callum would agree, though.”

He exhaled a laugh, the warmth of the moment settling between them.

Angie glanced down at the script, shaking her head. “Honestly, though, it’s such a good scene.”

Austin hummed, watching her. “Yeah. It is.”

Her expression softened slightly. “Do you ever get nervous before a big scene? Like… one you really want to get right?”

His brow furrowed. “Yeah. Of course.”

“How do you handle it?”

Austin hesitated, turning the question over in his head. “I just… remind myself why I’m doing it. It’s not about me—it’s about the story. That helps.”

Angie nodded, thoughtful. “I get that.”

He studied her for a second. “That why you haven’t let anyone read your writing?”

Her fingers traced the edge of the script absentmindedly. “Something like that.”

Austin didn’t push. Instead, he reached over, nudging her knee with his. “Well, if you ever want someone to read it… I’d be honoured.”

She smirked, but there was something underneath it. A hesitation, like she wasn’t sure she should believe me. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The moment lingered. Quiet, easy. Like neither of them were in a hurry to move on from it.

Finally, Austin exhaled, tapping the script. “Alright, Bucky. Back to work.”

Angie let out a dramatic sigh, then picked up the script again. “All right. You’re right, you’re right. But it’s my song, Buck.”

And despite himself, Austin laughed.

She glanced back at the script, but this time, something in her shifted. Like she was actually seeing the scene instead of just skimming the words.

Austin tapped the page lightly. “Want to try it properly?”

She met his eyes, then exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she was settling into it.

And just like that, the energy shifted.

No more joking. No more theatrics.

Just the two of them, and the weight of the words between them.

Austin settled into Buck, voice steady. “You lost.”

Angie, as Bucky, huffed, “I had you beat.”

Austin could hear the distant whistle of sirens in his head, the scene playing out, the tension humming beneath their words.

“Looks like they’re hitting Norwich,” he said, voice quieting.

Angie shifted slightly, her expression unreadable as she read Bucky’s next line. “Some poor bastards are getting it handed to ‘em.”

Austin met her gaze, continuing, “Yeah. We could be next.”

A pause.

Then she inhaled, barely above a murmur now. “Oh, we’re getting through this.”

Austin’s jaw shifted, feeling the weight of the line settle. He let Buck’s next words roll out, soft but certain. “Says the gambler.”

He expected her to move on, to flip the page, but she didn’t. Instead, she let her fingers linger against the script, her expression thoughtful.

Then, finally, she continued. “Well, if I’m gonna bet on anything, I’m gonna bet on us, Buck.”

Austin felt something shift in his chest.

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. “Damn. That’s good writing.”

He nodded, setting the script aside. “Yeah.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. The scene had faded, but something about the weight of it still hung in the air.

Angie traced a finger along the edge of the script. “It’s kind of wild, isn’t it? How much weight a few lines can hold?”

Austin tilted his head, watching her. “That’s the whole thing, really. Getting people to feel something in a few words.”

She exhaled, tapping the page. “That’s what I want to do. With my writing, I mean.”

Austin nudged her knee with his. “You will.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t even know if I’m any good.”

His smirk softened. “I don’t have to.”

Something unspoken settled between them.

The script lay forgotten now, the scene long gone.

It was late. The kind of late where the rest of the world didn’t seem to exist, where everything had narrowed down to just them, cross-legged on the couch, legs tucked close, bodies angled toward each other without even thinking about it.

Austin couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone to stay this much.

He didn’t tell her that.

But he felt it.

Austin wasn’t expecting it to hit quite like this.

Callum had been the one to suggest it. A casual You should come by set again thrown in over breakfast, his tone as easy as ever. Angie had hesitated at first, like she didn’t want to impose, but Callum steamrolled right over that with a Just say yes, Ange. We all know you want to.

Austin had played it cool. A simple Yeah, come if you want, like it didn’t matter either way.

But when she actually showed up, standing there in the middle of the controlled chaos that was set, something shifted.

Because he was used to being here. The lights, the crew, the constant hum of movement—this was his world, his work. He’d spent months existing in it, moving through the motions of early calls and long days, through the muscle memory of dialogue and blocking.

But seeing Angie here? Watching her take it all in, eyes flicking between the cameras, the massive set pieces, the costumed extras bustling around—it made him look at it differently. Like he was seeing it for the first time again, too.

And then there was the way she looked at him.

Not just in passing, not just as Angie, who had been running lines with him in a hoodie on his couch a few nights ago.

But Angie, watching one of his takes with a soft, unreadable expression, her head tilted slightly, her fingers curled around the sleeve of her sweater.

Like she was seeing him work for the first time.

Like she actually got it.

And Austin felt it somewhere deep in his chest, something warm curling there and refusing to let go.

Her gaze stayed on him, not just watching, but seeing—not just observing the scene, but studying him. The way he moved, the way he delivered each line, the way his body held the weight of it all. Like she was seeing him in a way no one else did.

Her lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something but thought better of it. Her gaze flicked between him and the monitor, brows drawing together, like she was seeing something new. Like she was putting something together.

And for some reason, that did something to him.

And it wasn’t just that.

It was catching her in all the little moments.

Standing with Barry, cracking up over something ridiculous, Barry’s hands moving wildly as he recounted some chaotic behind-the-scenes story.

Chatting with some of the crew, like she belonged there, like she’d always been part of the space.

Like she was paying attention to every detail.

And fuck if that didn’t do something to him.

He wanted to go over and sit next to her. Ask what she thought. Ask what it felt like to see this side of things.

He wanted her here.

Austin lost track of her for a little while.

One second, she was standing off to the side, listening to Callum go on about some scene that, judging by her face, she’d already heard him analyse at least three times before. The next—she was gone.

Not far. But somewhere.

He found her in the costume and makeup tent, and for a second, he just stood there, watching.

She was handing something to the makeup artists—small, carefully wrapped gifts, her voice low and warm as she spoke.

It wasn’t a big thing.

Wasn’t flashy.

Just… something she had thought to do.

A thank-you for letting her pick their brains last time she was here. For answering all her questions. For treating her like she belonged, even when she was just Callum’s friend tagging along.

Austin watched as one of the women beamed, unwrapping a small package, her face lighting up at whatever was inside.

How the hell did she even find the time to do that?

She hadn’t mentioned it. Hadn’t made a big deal out of it.

Because that wasn’t why she’d done it.

She’d just thought about them. About what they’d done for her. And she’d wanted to make sure they knew it mattered.

Something about that knocked the wind out of him.

Because that was who she was.

Thoughtful. Kind. The kind of person who noticed the little things, who made people feel appreciated, who gave without expecting anything in return.

Austin didn’t know what to say at first. Just stood there, taking her in, something deep in his chest going all soft and stupid.

Finally, he crossed the space, coming up beside her just as she was laughing at something one of the stylists had said.

She turned when she felt him there, her expression shifting into something easy, warm. “Hey.”

Austin just looked at her for a second, then exhaled, shaking his head slightly.

“That was really nice of you.”

She blinked, like it hadn’t even occurred to her that this was something worth mentioning. Then she brushed it off with a small shrug. “It was nothing.”

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t nothing at all.

Austin kept thinking about it.

All the way home.

And that was it. The moment it settled, deep in his chest—undeniable, unshakable.

He didn’t say it.

Didn’t even think about saying it.

But he felt it.

Felt it settle deep, like something inevitable.

The flat was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt settled, not empty.

Austin sat with his script open, running a finger absently along the edge of the page, but he wasn’t really reading. Not when Angie was curled up at the other end of the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, fingers tapping steadily against the keys.

She was focused, brows slightly furrowed, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. One of his hoodies hung loose on her frame, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, her hair piled into a messy bun, a few strands slipping free.

She looked comfortable here. Like she belonged.

And Austin couldn’t stop looking.

He turned another page of his script, but the words blurred together. His mind wasn’t on work, not really.

Instead—

“How’s it going?”

Angie didn’t look up right away, still typing. “Huh?”

He smirked, tipping his head toward her screen. “The writing. Good session?”

She slowed, hesitating for half a second before finally sitting back, fingers hovering over the trackpad. “Yeah. Actually.”

“Anything I get to hear about?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Absolutely not.”

Austin chuckled, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. “Shame. I was hoping for a live reading.”

She rolled her eyes, but he could see the flicker of something more guarded underneath. He knew writing was different for her. Personal.

But then, after a beat—

“Do you actually want to read something?”

Austin stilled.

That—he hadn’t expected.

She shifted slightly, nudging the laptop in his direction. Not looking at him, just watching the screen like she was already regretting offering.

He sat up a little straighter. “You sure?”

A pause.

Then she nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

Austin didn’t move for a second, just looked at her. He knew what this meant. Knew no one else had read her work before.

So when he reached for the laptop, he took it carefully. Not like it was just a laptop, but like it was something fragile. Something important.

Angie pulled up the document, fingers brushing over the keys before she passed it over.

And Austin didn’t skim. Didn’t joke.

He just read.

The room settled into quiet again, but different now. She tucked her legs up beneath her, arms loosely wrapped around them, saying nothing.

Austin’s brow furrowed slightly, jaw shifting as he took it in. And he got it. Not just the words, but the feeling behind them. The care, the weight, the way her voice bled through every line.

He forgot about the script, forgot about everything else. Just—

When he finally looked up, Angie was watching him.

He exhaled, setting the laptop aside, meeting her eyes properly.

“You’re really fucking good, Ange.”

She blinked, expression unreadable. “You don’t have to say that.”

Austin shook his head, shifting closer. “I mean it.”

He reached for the laptop again, scrolling back to a line that had stuck with him. Then read it back to her, voice quieter now.

Angie didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then—

“Yeah?”

Austin nodded. “Yeah.”

She let out a breath, shoulders loosening slightly.

He watched her for another second before finally closing the laptop, thumb brushing over the edge before he set it aside.

And then it hit him.

The week was almost over.

Tomorrow, she’d go back to London. They’d go back to only seeing each other on Sundays.

Back to days spent apart, back to quick texts and stolen hours. And maybe that should’ve felt normal. He’d spent months—years—on location, slipping in and out of temporary routines, knowing they’d never last.

But this?

This didn’t feel temporary.

This felt like something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

And he didn’t want that. Didn’t want to wake up without her here. Didn’t want to come home and find the space empty. Not now. Not after this.

He’d spent years living in limbo, between sets, between places, between people. He was used to it. Used to making temporary feel like enough.

It had been a long time since he’d wanted more than temporary.

A long time since he’d let himself.

But now, with her, Sunday didn’t feel like enough.

Taglist:

@slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @myradiaz @butlerrizz @chocolatetree222 @richardslady121 @ilovereadingfanfics

[trashisstillhere]

My daughter,,, my dear daughter,,,,,,

It’s about time I kinda gave you a bit of a redesign and a new ref along with it…

Who am I talking about?

Serenity Peterson ofc!!

Here she is! With her kinda new look and a bit drawn better, Serenityyyy!!

My giiiirlllll ilyyyyy <33333

I honestly didn’t think I would make her ref like this. Most of the time I just make my ocs ref be them with a white background, they’re name and pronouns and done. Plain like that. But nah, I went to do more with Serenity’s new one here… used a font with text this time instead of just writing it all down, a light grey background, all that stuff..

Do I regret it? No! It honestly looks more decent this way! A special new ref just for her… exactly what she deserves! Looks better than her old plain ref with her old design.

But yea as you can see, she hasn’t changed THAT much. Her ninja design is still the same. However, in her ordinary form, her clothes have gotten some few upgrades. And boi, do I feel satisfied with it… oh and her own Nomicon is shown too! You can tell the details on it is kinda different from the original Nomicon.. especially the middle part with the ninja head medal thing shown..

Now, I have shown some small info about her already in the old ref… BUT! Those were actually written in a rush back then so more stuff about her wasn’t really revealed completely and properly…

so now, I AM gonna do her info much better here!! So you guys can actually know her even better! Some info is still the same but some more is added!

Here we goooo-)

————————-

Serenity (14-15) (she/her)

Full name: Serenity Peterson

- Serenity is a ninja just like Randy but more of a ‘hidden’ one, one who takes care of a problem elsewhere (a enemy hidden that had to be taken care of. Kinda like the sorcerer but hidden somewhere else far away.) that no one else knows about while she keeps herself in the shadows and making sure that no one finds out about her since everyone in Norrisville thinks there is only one ninja that protects them.

- i have mentioned it a few times before already but,,, i have a (currently old now but still exists and alive) fan made Rc9gn story that she is apart of which takes part after season 2 called “hidden danger”, it explains a bit more about it there along with The cursed Samurai’s first appearance but that’s still a story for another day…

- speaking of the Cursed Samurai, Cursed! Honoka herself, is the mentioned ‘problem’ that Serenity was tasked to take care of! Hell, that cursed woman was originally made and still from the “hidden danger” story as the main villain! The name of the story is meant to hint to HER since she IS a ‘hidden danger’. (She may be also a minor villain now in the NN AU too along with her being defeated in a different way and normal Honoka getting a different life… but she (both the curse and Honoka, and them together) was and still originally is from “hidden danger” first along with Serenity!)

- unlike Randy who is called the Ninja when he is being…well, the ninja. Serenity is called ‘Kunoichi’. I know, so original. But I think it’s nice. I’m still thinking about it though, this is a bit of an unsure idea but I don’t hate it.

- Serenity is kinda childish, very energetic and a bit of a nerd, usually with hero stuff and actions figures and stuff like that. She isn’t really what others may think is ‘feminine’.

- tho even if she is kind of a tomboy. she is fine with dresses and any other ‘feminine’ clothing but she prefers to dress more like the main outfit she has right now. Maybe sometimes some baggy clothes or just anything she finds casual, ‘cool’ and comfy.

- she’s bisexual.

- she used to have a crush on Morgan ( yes. MORGAN), thinking she was just so cool and elegant with her dance moves and all. Unfortunately, she got friend zoned. (Morgan didn’t really know about her feelings tho, just didn’t really have that much interest in her plus the girl didn’t even ever try to ask her out) the girl was a bit hurt at first as this was her first crush and all but don’t worry, she moved on.

- she looks up to Randy, he has been her role model ever since she had first learned about him when she got the job as the ‘hidden ninja’. She didn’t know like his entire life at first, only about the lessons he got (which she also had), his battles, fighting style and a bit of his personality along with his charm. All told and shown to her by her Nomicon. (Yes, she has her own Nomicon.) she found him to be so honking bruce and inspiring that she wanted to be just like him one day and she still, even in the present where they are good friends, wants to follow in his footsteps.

- they meet after the whole crazy stuff has ended in season 2. Serenity, in times when she was not busy doing her own duty, has been in the crowd of students in the school and watched him fight out there but she never tried talking to him because her Nomicon told her not to bring too much attention to herself from anyone else, including letting the main hero himself, this also has to do with her having to stay ‘hidden’.

- Randy and Serenity are the ‘ninja duo’! It’s just something a little cute I thought of back then during her development with the “hidden danger” story and everything and kept ever since. ‘The ninja duo’ thing was suggested by none other then the ninja girl herself back when they first met and she got him to go help her with her problem (cuz while he was doing his own thing in season 1 and 2, the poor girl had a very hard time and always got her ass kicked because of it.), she brought it up while she was being all excited about getting to fight with her role model for the very first time. Randy thought about it at first, accepting it right after.

- after everything that happened in the story (the cursed samurai being defeated for good), Serenity became friends with Randy! And then Howard later on!

- now we all know how the ninja can have powers such as Tengu fire ball, hydro hand, etc. well…..Serenity struggles with that too. In fact, she can barely use them. Now she has her weapons and moves but for some unknown reason, she has such a hard time using the other abilities no matter how much she trains for them. It’s almost like she’s cursed. She isn’t, that’s just what she thinks. Even her Nomicon seems slightly puzzled by this.

- because of this, Randy decided to try helping her with it. And later on, it kinda helps but it still takes alot of time for the girl to be able to use these skills properly so she continues to go on without them for the time being.

- Though later on in the future, she may or may not be able to finally actually do some for the first time ever. And that first ability/power she will be able to use may or may not be ninja rage….eheh….

- her family.. is only her and her parents, has always been like that for years.. her parents? Aren’t that great honestly. They are pretty neglectful, barely paying attention to her nowadays…but at least she gets to do stuff she wants outside!

- BTW…. She actually has a stanked form I made for her… yep that’s right, she gets stanked at one point! Not in “Hidden Danger” but after all that….huehuehue…it’s old now but it could soon be remaked..

In case you’re wondering…. Her stanked forms a big moth… :3

———-

And that’s it!

If you really have read everything here then dang, congrats!…

Okay…I’m gonna be fully honest rn… these past few days, I’ve been in a mixed mood. Both good and bad.. good cuz I’m stil alright ig but bad cuz of this small feeling of dread I have in me, one i can’t shake off that has gotten me in a kinda bad sad mood…. I’ll try to explain about it in another post when I’m ready, probably not today tho… (it’s nothing TOO terrible but it still bugs me ALOT.)

But drawing Serenity here again with her new fresh look and all, it gives me comfort, similar to how drawing Randy and any other character I love also gives me comfort.. /gen

It may not seem like it but Serenity means a lot to me, more than you think. That’s why I keep calling her ‘my daughter” like now, it’s not just only me being silly. Well kinda but still- I used to draw her so much with Randy years ago along with Howard sometimes.. way before others like Esther, Seth, his team, and even Nobu along with their AU existed!

I honestly want to draw her some more… just like old times.. ^^

Hope yall won’t mind a bit more of Serenity content for awhile(?)…

[artspats]

First of all I just wanted to say how much I love love love your coach art series. Genuinely one of the best things I’ve read idk why but I just love it sm and second of all I don’t know if you take requests but It would be so cool if you wrote about how coach art and reader met, like their very first interaction or something like that 🙏

Hello, my beautiful anon! First of all, thank you so much and I’m so glad you like this little series. It makes me very happy 🫀

I'd never thought about this actually, but I found your idea refreshing and I really projected everything as I imagined it/ I can’t work without a moodboard and yes, I do take requests, whether it's moodboards, blurbs, or anything you can think of ^^

They changed the tennis coach at school. Apparently Coach Russel got a better job — probably paid the same crap they give therapists for fourth-room athletes. Still, it beat working with teenage girls. Others might disagree.

But to each their own.

—

She was tying her laces while talking to Mia.

Mia was pouting, “I don’t know, maybe I have to tell him more about myself. I just— don’t know if I like him enough. Am I a bitch? I don’t think so, my mom told me that she felt that way about my dad before they were a couple—“

She laughed, “Mia— that’s normal, okay? Not because he gives you things you need to force yourself to like him. There’s just no way you can fake something without feeling uncomfortable.”

“God I don’t know, he’s a nice guy but I don’t know if I want to see him every time I wake up.“

“Well then—tell him?”

Mia shrugged, tilting the bottle of water in her hand, “It’s not that easy. Also, he’s a good kisser.”

“Just a good kisser?” She grinned up at her.

“Hey!” Mia laughed, shoving her shoulder.

She stood up, dusting off her hands on her shorts, “What?! I’m just asking!”

“Shut up already—“

“You looked very happy the other day that he—“ She turned around, grabbed her ass and bit her lip, clearly mocking Mia.

“Stop!!—“

She threw her head back, laughing — and when she straightened up, she saw him.

He had the saddest look that could exist — blue eyes, with a small glimpse of gray and a flicker of green here and there.

Like those artisan sourdough breads — weird colors, somehow still beautiful.

A very cute nose, buttoned at the tip — an up turned ball of cartilage.

Wrinkles, especially between his eyebrows, as if he was always worried or confused.

There was something so special and delicious about a confused man...

A small face, but everything fit perfectly. His eyes were a little apart, but that only added something unique to him.

And those lips — so very kissable and plump.

He definitely puckered up when he kissed.

He was standing by the stands, with the clipboard under his arm, chewing gum as if he was thinking too much. Was he looking at her?

Oh — he looked away.

New Coach. Art Donaldson. That's what Coach Russel had said.

Art bent down to pick his bottle of water, and that's when she heard his voice, low and clear.

"Hey"

She looked up.

"You didn't tie the other one," He pointed with a finger.

She blinked and then looked down. One lace had been rolled up, the other moved.

"Oh, right— " She bent down again, trying to tie it, but with someone’s gaze things always felt more difficult than they were. Her fingers were strangely clumsy. Mia, I blame you completely, she thought.

When she got up, he was still watching her, with the sun drawing a line on his forehead. He seemed calm and composed, not bothered by the warmth of the sun. Whilst she frowned at the single hit of light.

He opened his mouth and stopped, as if he was considering it.

“How old are you?” She squinted her eyes slightly, confused but not offended.

“Eighteen.”

He nodded slowly.

Jaw tightened, as if he was filing that information carefully.

His gaze quickly turned to the court.

“Very good. We’re going to do some exercises, okay?”

“Yes,” she said, brushing her hair back.

“Of course.”

He didn’t say anything else, he just turned around and walked towards the others.

Yet he moved like someone used to being watched, but did he like it?

She followed him, suddenly very aware of the weight of her own legs, the air in her throat forming a little lump, the sound of her own breathing.

Behind her back, Mia whispered:

“What was that?”

She didn’t answer.

She just smiled — more to herself.

Nobody knew it but, she blasted “Criminal” by Fiona Apple on her way home that day.

Sitting up straighter as ever, as if someone was watching, as if he was watching.

Fingers tapping on the small scar on her knee, tracing a slow circle as the song went on to—

“I got a lot to lose, and I’m bettin’ high,

so I’m begging you...”