#I brought the Fine Art of Small Talk home with me bc i want to listen to it

[barkingbarghest]

tag game! it's post 9 photos from your phone, and I have been tagged by @aidenwaites!

Now, embarrassingly, I don't actually have a lot of images saved to my phone that aren't photos that I took with the camera. So this will be equal parts things saved and photos.

I tag @ailurusa, @tornadotorrie, @vaelei, @taliagraven, @mattiejpwn, and uhm... whoever else

[withonly-sweetheart]

Fortune's Cookies

They aren't very sweet, especially when you're fooled into taking the first bite.

a/n: gosh there's literally so much rookie leon art going around and the fever got to me, hope you like my twist on this classic trope! honestly everyone listed below contributed to this with their rookie leon pieces, seriously i stared at them while writing it helps seriously.

@chesue00 - you KNOW it.

@faintfill - MY SOURCE OF ROOKIE LEON SKETCHES NO KIDDING

@uhlillie - i hope you know which one im talking about girl... DAMN

@bunnivievve - FOODDDDDDD just like i said rookie leon is served

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: cavity fluff i hope i needed to brush my teeth after writing this (probably because of all the panda express fortune cookies i ate while typing), angst bc duh and i think thats it?

wc: 7k

“Your voice will bring a smile today.”

That’s what greets you, printed in those horrible skinny red letters, paper curled in your fingers. The styrofoam boxes are dotted with grains of undercooked rice and steamed vegetables, a treat you knew you deserved after such a long day. 

And this is what fate tells you. Good thing you’ve never believed in superstition. You crumple the paper and toss it onto the tray and scoff.

Like you’ll take advice from a cookie.

But as the number of people in the store starts to dwindle, and the night shift employees trudge in through the back door, you wind up with your eyes glued to the message, wondering what kind of voice it referred to. 

It’s been a long time since your voice has brought anyone joy, hasn’t it? Your job mostly consists of reminding multiple colleagues of their deadlines, only to be promptly ignored. Your existence only comes back to their minds two minutes before their reports are due, when they forward a hastily written piece that you don’t bother to read.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A hand waves dangerously close to your face, brushing your nose, and the contact is enough to startle you back, glaring up at the offender. Even with the harsh swinging lights stinging your eyes, you can see warm blue eyes and sunny hair. 

It feels as if the sky has descended to meet you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter back in response, clearing your throat, waving your tied words away. “All good here.”

He shifts away from you, maybe mistaking your inward gesture as shooing him away. You think of saying something about him, about assuring him, but you wonder why you feel that way. "Oh. I, uh, saw you seemed distracted. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." 

You wince, acutely aware of your frazzled appearance after the long shift. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Just tired is all."

“That’s not good,” he notes with a small frown, leaning back to press his heels to the ground. “Did you eat well?”

“Do you fuss over all strangers?” you muse.

“Oh, well, uhm, I see you a lot here, not that I’m watching you, just that I noticed that you’re here, a lot, so I thought you must like food-” 

“You talk a lot.” You raise an eyebrow, trying to cut off his flustered stammering with your motion.

“That came out a lot worse than I’d imagined in my head,” he admits with a slight dip of his shoulders. “Sorry about that, I got nervous. I don't talk to many people… or, uh, women... so I tend to be a bit of a dumbass.”

Surprisingly, as shitty as you feel, a small smile graces the corner of your mouth.

“You’re honest, aren’t you?” 

“According to a lot of people… yeah.”

“I don’t think I caught your name earlier,” you say, eyes scanning his vivid outfit for a nametag. There, pinned to his apron like a defining feature of his. “Leon?”

“That’s me,” he replies proudly. “And I already know yours!”

“Sorry?”

“Your… name?” Leon puckers his bottom lip, as if scarring it with his teeth will take back the words hanging between you. “Sorry… like I said, I’ve seen you here a lot.”

And he smiles shyly.

You’re flushed the whole way home, thinking of that sweet little smile, the way his eyes crinkled, his fresh linen scent, how you forgot how to breathe. 

And your carefully built world topples over.

<><><><>

You never expected to look forward to the little messages in your fortune cookies, but you blame it on the fact you know Leon’s handing them to you, standing behind the counter in that cute little outfit. Even if he has no idea what’s in them, you can gaslight yourself into thinking he deliberately picks the ones complimenting your smile, or telling you how pretty your eyes look.

Of course, he can tell you that all himself. You sit shoulder to shoulder with him on the stools that you think are meant to be mocking bar stools, but they have barely any space between them, so you’re crammed together.

You wait for him to move away, to tell you to put some distance between you two, but nothing comes. You watch his profile, that handsome face eat cheap noodles when he really deserves so much better.

The lights dim as the last employee clocks out. It’s gotten so late that the crickets demand entrance, chirping their redundant sound, silencing as you walk past the slouching grass like plant that tickles your bare ankles as you walk back to your respective cars.

“Well,” he says, twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, like he hasn’t been talking to you for the last two weeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, nodding. The grin that eats up his face is so infectious you can’t help but smile back.

The same smile drops from your face when you check your Uber texts, a system you’ve repeated so much over the last few months that it feels like second nature, but not very natural when you see that your driver had to back out of the deal at the last minute, suspiciously also taking your money with them, leaving you broke and without a ride. 

You stare at the small blue rectangle gripped in your fingers, heat rising to your face, realizing how stupid you must seem to the guy who must be pulling away right at this moment, and will he ever want to hang out with you again-

“Something wrong?” You hear his voice before you hear the knocks on his car roof, and he’s so tall that even at this distance you have to crane your neck to glower at him, and a lopsided smile overtakes his face.

“This isn’t fair,” you insist after explaining your situation, and the only response he gives is a slight shake of his head, as if exasperated. “I already paid all the money!”

“Crap, then something’s wrong,” he mumbles. “Do you usually always use all your money on the trip here?”

You falter. “Not usually.”

He arches a golden brow, a gate to your forthcoming confession. “Then…?”

“Well, I come out here to see you,” you admit quietly. “And then I go home.”

“Exactly how far away do you live?” His voice is smooth, but his expression reminds you of those times when your mother caught you doing something you shouldn’t be, doing something that shows how much you need that validation to survive.

“Not that far,” you assure, nodding your head, but you fail to convince the both of you. 

“Do you want a ride home?” he asks quietly, softly, as if the night might intrude on your conversation.

“That would be nice,” you reply in a hushed whisper, as if further backing up the idea that the moon is listening, lighting up your words, shining on his hair as you both clamber into his car.

He apologizes for the mess in his spotless car, and you assume it’s just a courtesy, but he goes on and on about how he needs to get his life together. You don’t pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth, just his mouth in general. The amount of times you’ve done this slips from your mind, just another irrelevant number in your life.

If his life is a mess, your life must be a heap of shit.

Your address tumbles past strangely parched lips, well, at least it did, a while ago. But the ride was far too short, and he pulls up in your driveway, a bewildered expression on his face, as if he can’t believe this is where you live; a humble, simple abode, just like all your neighbors.

“So, this is goodbye, then?”

“Not forever, I hope,” he whispers, voice breathy.

“Uh, okay then? But let’s meet somewhere that isn’t your place of work?”

You were joking when you said it, but it seems he doesn’t pick up on it. His eyes are dreamy and thoughtful on his drive back, and by the time he gets home, he has a plan.

He’s going to stun you.

<><><><>

“Well?”

Leon’s gone out of his way to please you. Everything you’ve said during your time together, those vague comments about your favorite type of cheese, your opinions on the amazingly random topics you’re always switching between, it’s all right there.

You hope it's a physical display of his love.

His heart is spread bare, on the checkered, classic pattern of red and white, starkly contrasting with the blades of grass that bear your combined weight, not one, but two, so closely conjoined that you feel more at ease than you have in years.

You share a smile as you indulge in the simple yet delightful cucumber sandwiches, savoring each bite as you bask in each other's company. In the far distance, birds chirp, serenading you both, as if a soundtrack to these moments that seem to tick by faster than they should.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a softness in his gaze that speaks volumes. Time slows, encapsulating you both, a delicious freedom licking up your spine.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” you remark, wiping your face with a napkin, feeling content as you lean back, lying your head on your palms.

He mirrors your action, although his head twists to meet you, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant if I didn’t know a few things, right?”

“Guess so.” You shrug and the afternoon wears on, the park imaginative and alive with the children that race around the playground, darting like minnows through the swings and slides.

If you had met Leon in your childhood, would things have been different? Would you still be where you are today, arms brushing, only held apart by the barrier of remains scattered between you both, a battlefield of scarred napkins and damaged plastic utensils, a war fought to keep you separate.

He is caring and decisive and rational, the most reliable person you know, and you faintly register it’s been half a year, and you haven’t progressed any further with each other. The battle has come to a standstill, and neither side dares to make a move.

You think that half the problem lies not with you, but with Leon, and what he does with all his free time. He’s not the type to laze around; you think you know him well enough to make that assumption, but you aren’t sure anymore.

Cue example one: the mysterious phone calls that have begun to grow in frequency, the ones that always sour Leon’s mood, leave him sullen and unfriendly to talk to. Eventually, you grow tired of his monosyllabic answers, and make your absence known, still wondering what goes on in his life.

With a furrowed brow, he glances at the caller ID, his expression tightening with concern. You watch as his once-relaxed posture stiffens with some unseen burden. With a sigh, he excuses himself to take the call, leaving you momentarily alone with your thoughts.

You can sense the tension tinging the area, Leon’s clenched jaw betraying the stress he tries to conceal as he stalks back to you, shoving his phone into his pocket, evidently agitated.

“You don’t need a ride home, do you?” His voice contrasts his request; he obviously isn’t in the mood to drive you home. 

“I’ll get a cab.” You shake your head, not wanting to be the instrument he releases all that pent up anger on.

He casts a shadow over you, standing tall and easy, in the dying sun he looks like a dying angel, his eyes soft and sad, skin begging to be touched. And while you want nothing more than to reach out and caress his cheek, tell him it’ll be okay, kiss his troubles away, you don’t know what you are right now.

Friends? Would a friend do that? So you offer him a supportive smile, trying not to seem deliberate, and amidst the fading light of the park and the cooling breeze that accompanies you back to your divided lives, you already regret it, watching Leon speed off, just a distant thought in your memory. 

You should trust your gut more often.

<><><><>

As the car glides through the shadowy city streets, you catch sight of the new monument in the distance, the one Leon must’ve told you about. Surprising yourself, you decide to take a spontaneous detour. You tap your driver on the shoulder, and she smiles encouragingly. For the most part, the drive was silent, but you don’t mind her soft voice explaining the history behind why they decided to construct it in the first place.

She pulls around the corner, approaching the area near the monument, but the statue quickly is pushed to the back of your mind. It’s the flashing police lights and a sense of urgency in the air that catches your attention. A crime scene tape cordons off the area, and officers are stopping all vehicles passing through.

A stern-faced cop approaches your cab and instructs you both to step out. The driver uneasily abandons her car where it’s parked, then weaves through the forming crowd effortlessly, as if she’s gotten used to the downtown mobs of people.

You, however, barely come to this side of the town, where the city lights are always attacking your eyes that are comfortable with the soft sunset across the farm, where the people are always knocking against each other like clumsy goats, everyone bustling with a purpose.

As you also try your best to push your way through the throng, a knot forms in your stomach at the sight that greets you in the center of the commotion. The blood reaches up to where your footsteps falter, where everyone steps back to avoid staining their footwear.

Splatters of crimson paint a macabre picture that sends a shiver down your spine. The wail of sirens pierces the night, flaring lights casting an eerie glow that dances like amethyst flames, illuminating the limp body that uniformed figures crouch near.

And one of those figures, someone you’d never expect at the grim scene of a murder, is Leon, his unfamiliar stony expression cast in a stark light against the backdrop of chaos.

You draw closer, questions threatening to unravel the fabric of your reality, steeling yourself for the confrontation, because you thought you were close to him, a person he could trust. Was that such a silly thought? To think that you might have had something?

Apparently it was.

“Leon?” you demand, pressing yourself into the caution tape, warning bells ringing in your mind at the neon yellow bending to your will against your stomach.

“What?” He glances up and around, scanning the entire world until his eyes land on yours, going wide slightly, and his position stumbles, as if his legs give way.

“Get up, rookie,” another cop barks. “Focus! And you, stop distracting him!” Someone bats at your face, but you just sidestep the blow and storm closer, in the tension of the moment.

If you had just a speck of your sense at the time, you might’ve forced yourself to step away, to take a few calming deep breaths, but seeing his face dappled in such an unnatural light, to see his warmth be taken away to something that’s real, something like a life gone. 

You always saw him as your solace, away from your life, something that was unreal, just for you. You forget to see him as a being of his own, with feelings of his own. And sadly, you don’t know the difference between impulsive and intrusive. 

You’re surprised when Leon rises to meet your eyes, albeit it only lasts for a moment until he’s towering over you again, and there’s a sense of authority there that wasn’t there before, eyes strict and narrowed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says, in such a final tone it doesn’t occur to you that you could argue back. But his voice, a splinter of your Leon, the one you know, slips through. “I promise.”

So you stand back, near the patrol cars, their wails ratting your skull, but you grit your teeth and force yourself through it, eyes directed on Leon. It’s a while before the crowd clears, presumably because the idea of a murder is enticing until they see how long it truly takes, as compared to television.

But you stand there, leaning against the side of the car that you know is Leon’s, recognizing it as the one that you’ve rode in so many times, and you wonder why he’s taken a fragment of your time here, to this place outside of your relationship.

Eventually, Leon makes frantic motions to the top of the monument, stretching to the sky before gesturing back to the body, and everyone around him offers a pensive expression and solemn nods before someone calls out something you can’t hear.

The sirens die down immediately, and everyone claps Leon on the back. He flushes and stumbles with them to the cars, and you promptly ignore everyone’s gaze on you as he approaches. But there’s someone with him. 

Feline eyes meet yours, an arm draped over his shoulder, competitive expression and this mysterious woman and Leon saunter over to you. She’s dressed in a long, beige trench coat, and her black sunglasses rest low on her nose, perched just right so that she can lift her face to offer you the most cursory of glances before turning away.

And she has the audacity to peck Leon on the cheek before she gives you a smug smile with the side of her face that only you can see before waving goodbye, somehow gracefully, and stalking away to what you assume is a fancy sports car.

“Look, I know you have a lot of questions.” Leon holds up his hands in defense, before grinning, and involuntarily, you feel the corner of your mouth quirk upwards.

“Lot of is an understatement,” you grumble.

“Talk over dinner?” he offers.

“Is this you trying to impress me?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Is it working?”

<><><><>

“Right, and you didn’t think telling me you were a fucking cop was important?” Your spring roll is devastated, its insides spilling everywhere on your plate, bits of cabbage and carrot dotting the cardboard.

“I didn’t think it would change anything between us,” he mumbles. “So what difference would it make?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You push away from the table, and his eyes follow you when you stand up, and his actions seem to come naturally, as an instinct, when he trails you across the empty store.

“You know what it means!” he protests.

“Maybe I don’t, Leon, so maybe you should explain,” you retort. “Explain why you thought it was okay to lead me on like that, all this time, when you have a girlfriend! Which one of us are you really cheating on?”

“What?” Now he looks genuinely confused, and his confusion seems to spark some doubt in your own defense, breaking down your sure walls. “Girlfriend? Cheating?”

His eyes are glazed over with tears, and if he starts crying, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You take a step closer, but now he’s the one to recoil away, shaking his head, wiping his eyes.

Leon inhales sharply. “How could you say something like that? I told you when we met, I’m not… not very good with these kinds of things.”

“But she-”

“Kissed me?” He scoffs. “Yeah, right. Like your mother’s never kissed you goodnight.”

You misread everything. That smug smile was her approval, on those curved lips, those narrowed eyes that were… well, just always narrowed. How could you get something so wrong?

"I... I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "I didn't know... I thought..." Your words falter as you struggle to find the right ones to express the whirlwind of relief, a gust of skittish butterflies pattering against the walls of your stomach, trying to find release.

"I should have been honest from the start," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "My job… it can hurt people. You saw. I want to keep you safe."

“You’re not mad?” you ask quietly.

Leon's eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he responds, "How could I ever be mad at this cute little face?" He playfully puffs your cheeks together, a gesture meant to be endearing.

Before you can fully process his teasing remark, Leon's demeanor shifts once again, his voice lower and more intimate as he adds, "Or... these lips." And with a sudden, decisive move, he leans in and presses a tender kiss against your lips.

And your fragile world topples over.

Again.

<><><><>

Leon never ceases to surprise you, that much you can definitely expect. You shut your computer, ready for your lunch break, when someone calls your name from the lower floor. That much you’ve come to expect, but while you’re gathering your belongings, someone else calls out something else.

“Hey, hurry up! Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting!”

To say you stumbled would be nice. You somehow manage to trip over the arm of the chair, end up with all your papers fluttering to the ground, but you ignore the mess and file it away for later, trying to tame your hair (an impossible feat in three seconds) as you storm down the stairs.

Your heels click on the tiles as you make your descent as graceful as can be, minus that one part where you trip and lurch forward before gripping the hand railing for safety. You see him standing at the entrance, talking to the receptionist guy, a box nestled between his arms. 

“Doughnuts?” you ask, staring at the box enticingly, recognizing the bright pink and rainbow sprinkles from your childhood. 

“Got some free time,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your nose before opening the box. It seems that you really have everyone’s attention now. “And coupons!”

You toss him a shit eating grin to show your returned affection before immediately curling your fingers around a glazed doughnut. And eventually, once the first person timidly approaches, quietly asking if they could maybe have one, Leon beams.

“I brought enough for everyone!” he proclaims, and he steps to the side to reveal three similar boxes, all presumably stocked with the same doughnuts.

“Looks like you’re an office favorite now, huh?” you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He shifts from your impact and returns the gesture, in the process of doing so smears chocolate frosting on the underside of his nose.

“I’ll always be your favorite officer though, right?” he jokes in response.

You don’t respond, you’re too busy staring at that one smear of cocoa against his skin, and suddenly you’re itching for a napkin, so you twist over your shoulder to grab one.

“Righ-” His echo is muffled by the napkin stuffed into his mouth as you gently dab at the area, squinting your eyes. 

“Yeah, of course, totally,” you mumble absentmindedly, satisfied with your efforts. You take the excuse a little further just to stare at his amused expression, the quirk of his brow, the tilt of his eyes softening.

Your colleagues will never let you hear the end of this.

Either way, since he’s on break and he’s on the manager’s good side, bribing her with a few Boston Cream doughnuts, she allows him to hop upstairs with you.

“So, if you’re a cop,” you ask while rubbing hand sanitizer into your palms. “Why’re you working at Panda Express?”

“They lowered the income rate for the citizens of Raccoon City, including the police force,” he grumbles, swinging his legs from where he’s perched on the side of your desk. “Which I think is totally stupid!”

“So you think you shouldn’t have applied at all?” you query further.

“Well, honestly? I’m glad I applied,” he admits, and at your questioning expression, continues, “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Hooray, taxes,” you say numbly, flipping through the giant stack of papers left on your desk, all jumbled up from your earlier mishap.

“Hooray, taxes, indeed,” he agrees.

“I was being sarcastic.” Leon scoffs, twisting over his shoulder to lean down and meet your lips. When he pulls away, there’s an endearing yet mocking look in his eyes.

“I’m not that stupid.”

<><><><>

Nothing happens that day, you don’t see a black cat anywhere, you don’t walk under any ladders, and if you do walk on cracks, well, you do that every day, so your luck must always be this horrible, right?

You’ve somehow scored this moonlit masterpiece strolling beside you, a being born from the clouds, so maybe you’re not all that unlucky.

Usually, you get a warning when bad things happen. But all you can feel is the jittery, warm feeling that you get when you’re brushing hands with Leon, trying to bring him closer to you. You think he notices, and doesn’t say anything.

You invite yourself into his car, but the first of many problems to come arrives in the form of water that splashes on Leon’s face, just above his eyebrow, and he quickly slides into his seat.

You absently brush the area, admiring his hair, his boyish qualities, and suddenly wonder if he’s always looked this young. Far too innocent for the world.

“It’s nice in here,” you offer.

He sinks back into the seat with a gentle, relaxed smile. "Well, either way, get comfortable. Looks like we’re expecting rain.”

You nod, legs unsteady, and find yourself nestled in leather beside his cologne-scented form. The engine hums to life, and he shifts gears, pulling onto the road as traffic flees.

He glances over, moonlight caressing sculpted cheeks. "What’s wrong?"

“Do you have any water?” He gestures to the water bottle in the cupholder on his left side, on the driver’s door. Your knees knock against each other as you reach over to grasp it, ducking under his outstretched arms, averting your eyes to your right rather than the other direction.

“Can I…?” You gesture to the bottle. “Or should I just like, you know, waterfall, or whatever-”

“We’ve literally exchanged saliva,” he states bluntly. “I don’t think I have a problem with you drinking from my water bottle.”

“Ugh, you weirdo.” But you’re the one drinking like a starved woman, which you suppose that you are, but that of which you’re really dragging your gaze over isn’t the water.

And you suppose, logically, Leon’s 70% water.

Water that evaporates under the heat of your eyes, drifting up to the previously cloudless sky, forming puffs of sorrow that cry back down to you, tears slamming against the windshield. You ponder how he can even see the road through the downpour.

Eventually, after grumbling under his breath, Leon pulls over, gazing into your upturned face with a question in his eyes, older than his years.

“Would you, uhm, mind if we just went to my place? It’s closer anyways, and I don’t want to risk driving any further than I have to in these conditions…”

You smile, and he can see your answer woven in your eyes.

<><><><>

Leon forgot to mention his (adoptive) parents live right next door. So of course, when they’re just out and about casually watching him through the door camera, they might just happen to say a dashing young lady walk out of his car.

And said young lady is unfamiliar to these judging, supreme figures that must decide Leon’s fate for him, because he’s just a boy. Their precious little baby.

So that’s what you assumed happened when Leon’s parents clambered out of their door, calling for you to wait, his mother pulling her cardigan around herself tighter against the chill.

And now here you are, facing two people that, no offense, look nothing like the man seated next to you, fingers entwined, foot tapping out a nervous beat on the wooden floor.

“So, darling, how’s work going?” Another placeholder question for what she really wants to know: how much do you make in a year? Do you have a degree? Did you even finish high school?

You respond with everything they must want to hear, like those questions on the backs of those 2000’s magazines with the answer that’s always right, the one that has the perfect amount of sense in it, the Goldilocks rule.

Goldilocks must have been gobbled up by the bears this night, because every answer seems to deepen the furrow forming between their brows, as if they’re in sync, and you wonder how you can manage to screw up something that should be simple.

Meeting the parents, check. What’s next, falling into the cake at the wedding? You must be planning too far ahead judging by their unimpressed looks.

“Mom,” Leon groans. “Cut it out!”

“I’m just getting to know her, sweetie,” she replies sweetly, voice dripping like molasses, and you can tell there’s a lot more she’s keeping behind her tongue. "Well, dear, do you have any hobbies or interests you're passionate about?"

"Oh, I just love cooking!" you exclaim, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up your face. Maybe you’ve finally found something to impress them with.

Leon's father leans in, his interest piqued. "What kind of dishes do you enjoy cooking?" he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I love trying out new recipes from different cuisines," you reply, your excitement palpable. "Right now I’m learning how to cook Thai cuisine!"

Leon's mother nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Cooking is such a beautiful art form," she muses, her face softening. "It's wonderful to see someone so passionate about creating delicious meals. Someone who can share that love with our son."

You wonder if any other girl had waltzed along, marveled at cooking with them, would they have dropped their judging character immediately, just as they had with you?

You suppose it’s a mystery you don’t need to solve.

Besides, you don’t have to worry about facades with Leon.

Of course not.

But you do wonder why he hasn’t touched any of the food.

<><><><>

You sit back, sly fingers curved around the tender flesh of his waist, pressing your head further into the crook of his arm. You watch his chest rise and fall like the arrival and departure of the sun, bringing you warmth under the blanket that restricts your movements, tucked in around you like a burrito.

He must be hot, you realize, he’s sweltering under the blanket, but when you offer to turn on the overhead fan, he shivers like he’s cold at the same time and shakes his head.

In moments of silence, you catch glimpses of a far off-look in his eyes, a horror movie long forgotten, as if his thoughts have wandered to a place you can’t reach. There’s shadows of things he doesn’t say, things you know he wants to say.

“Hey, are you good?” You shift your weight to look up at him, where you might’ve found yourself admiring the curve of his chin, or his dappled skin, but now you only feel concern.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, mouth stretching in a yawn. “My new case is taking a bit longer than I’d hoped.”

“Mhm?” you press gently, wanting to get more clarity on the situation without seeming nosy. His response is delayed, a different, pitiful expression grappling to take hold.

“Oh… the, uhm, pharmaceutical company? Something that has to do with… was it rain?” Leon shakes his head, clicking his tongue in the back of his throat. “You know what? Forget it. Tonight’s our night.”

He says ‘our’, but he pays you little to no attention for the next three hours. 

Your first thought is that you're boring him. Have you already become so insufferable that he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore? You had expected it, of course, you’re not a very animated person, but he loved you, didn't he?

Leon’s gone quiet, silent, like he’s back in that box in his mind you can never seem to pierce. The light that used to dance in his eyes now flickers dimly, like a fading ember struggling to hold onto its warmth.

He carries himself with the same grace and poise, like a practiced act to a play you weren’t a part of, and you can’t push it away anymore. But of course, as all things in your life seem to follow, when you finally find yourself gaining the courage to confront him, he's gone.

<><><><>

Missing. And no one knows where he is. And some part of you blames yourself, you obviously must've scared him away.

“You know what’s wrong!” You bite your tongue to keep you from raising your volume, not so much fearing the fish beneath you but the woman leaning against the shipping containers, scrutinizing slender nails with feigned boredom.

If Leon trusts her, she should hear your first plea. She knows him better than you do, much to your dismay, but it could work out in your favor currently.

Her expression remains stony.

"Please," you beg, and a sliver of emotion slips through that mask- confusion? "Help me save Leon. I know you care for him, even if you can't show it."

Her crimson lips quirk. "I have… undisclosed reasons for ensuring his well-being. But my work takes precedence, and I can’t disclose anything to you." 

You glare through lingering tears. "No deals, no games. You tell me where he's investigating right now." 

A long pause, then she sighs. "Very well. It seems you really won't leave me alone, hm?" She grins coldly. "Shall we play the heroes, just this once?"

Playing the heroes is harder than it turns out to be, it seems. 

"Evening, boys. My associate and I have a… delivery." The guards blink, stupefied, then waves you through with dopey grins, mostly directed at her. Ada smirks. "Pathetic."

A floorplan materializes in her hand, every room and hallway illuminated with ghastly blue precision. "Samples are held in labs B5 through 7. Avoid guards, cameras. And try not to set anything off - we're on a tight schedule."

You dart through shadows, cautiously approaching the correct hall. Surprisingly, nothing contradicts your journey, as if the whole building’s been abandoned. Guess it’s your lucky day. 

You're wondering just how lucky you really are when you turn to usher Ada ahead, only to freeze as you turn the corner, and there, just a few feet away, he sits.

So calmly, so pristine, as if life was just as simple as sitting on the floor, in the middle of a hallway, in a building where you don't belong, after ghosting everyone who knows you for two days.

And yet there's something different. Haggard eyes stare from a chalk-white face, lips twisted in a feral snarl. That face, once so stunning you had to think about his existence, now only conveys hatred.

"L-Leon?" you breathe. But those eyes betray no recognition, only hunger. As your stare, transfixed by fright and grief, a click sounds behind you.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here." Ada glares down the barrel she points to Leon's head, somehow still perfectly composed. You want to rip off her head. "Now, are we all going to play nice?"

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then Leon's eyes flicker, awareness filtering into his eyes by slow degrees, and he stands up at half that speed, as if time is against him.

But then he jolts back, as if something's clicked, and suddenly he's back with you, standing in front of you, gasping for breath and clutching you tightly.

You wait for a moment, not quite sure if you're imagining things or not, before a dry, unamused chuckle rips from your throat and slowly morphs into the laugh you're used to sharing with him.

Leon leans closer to you, resting your forehead against his, cupping your face as he stares down at you, recognition so evident in those open eyes. “How'd you find me?”

“Well, it's not like the department was going to notice,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. Ada scoffs in reply, but her head tilts to the side.

“And your endearing girlfriend here wouldn't let me get away that easily.”

You suppose her tone is light enough that you can let it pass as a joke, and at the moment you're so overwhelmed with relief that you aren't too worried about her idea of you either way.

“Seeing you… gosh,” he groans, pressing a palm to his temple, hissing. “I can barely think straight!”

“I know, baby, I know,” you coo comfortingly, keeping your voice soft so as to not alert any guards that might've pulled up around the area.

“No, I can't…” His eyes go fazed again, blank, emotionless, and once again he's slipped through your grasp like grains of sand on a beach, only there is nothing tranquil about this situation.

“Leon, listen to me. You’re going to be just fine,” you affirm, nodding your head, hoping he'll copy your motion.

He doesn't. "I...I can feel it," he gasps. Beads of sweat run tracks through the grim on his face. "It's… stronger than me..."

You grip his hand tight, ignoring the growing feverheat. "No, Leon, you can beat this. You always do." But even you can hear the desperation in your voice.

And you wait for Ada to chime in with some classic, yet somehow sassy third-wheel dialogue, but it never comes. In fact, she's vanished into the shadows, presumably already so far away you can't hear the click of her heels on the sterile floors.

Leon groans, and your attention snaps back to him, face contorting. "Go," he grits out. "Drive… and don't look back."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you proclaim, and his eyes soften in confusion as you sling his arms around your shoulder.

You're sure half the population must've heard your racket at this point, but it seems something else has gotten the security's attention.

As long as it's not you, you don't mind. Leon’s lower lip wavers, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, and you want to peck everything that hurts until he's okay. But you can't be sure of anything until you're both safe.

The first responders always seem to pick up the prank calls from the teenagers that don't need their help, but it seems like hours go by the more Leon's blood coats your fingers, and inevitably, your phone screen.

He's stopped responding to your questions, and you fight to keep just a fragment of his conscience there with you, but his eyes, the vivid blue gone dull, meet yours and offer no further response.

When the ambulance finally arrives, they leave you outside the gates, denying you entry, with those ruby dusted hands and diamond streaked face.

You suppose you've always wanted to be the jewel in the night that races to the hospital to see their lover. And now that just seems silly.

<><><><>

Three weeks.

That's all the time he'll have with you. And even then, he's not truly there. He struggles to formulate his own thoughts, and now, whenever you see him, all you can think of is who he used to be.

As for Ada, you haven't seen her since. She hasn't snitched on you, so you suppose that it wouldn't hurt anyone to keep the events of that day between the three of you.

Two of you, now.

He isn't a person anymore. He isn't your Leon. But that's hard to remember when you've never been good at seeing what's beneath the surface, the dense, complex layers that create a person.

You see his soft, peaceful face that is like second nature to you, and you wonder if he'll respond to you today, even after hours of repeating the same truth that you know somewhere, deep down, you’ll never believe. The doctor's left the room already, decreeing two hours of treatment should do something for him, save him, much like removing a tumor.

“I went to our place, picked up some lunch for us,” you murmur, knowing he can't hear you. “You weren’t standing at the counter like always, and I almost lost it. Again.”

You can imagine him, if he was really here, chuckling, shaking his head at your questionable behavior. Not just a shell, a half of a person, but a whole that somehow also completed you.

See, this is why you failed math. Are you half a person without him, or whole?

“I got us a fortune cookie!” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat, as if your positive energy could transfer to him, in a magical, mystical manner, and he'd come back to you.

“Let's read it, yeah?” No point in waiting for a response when you know it'll never come.

Thin, pale letters. How odd, they resemble Leon's strangely flushed face.

“Today, your voice will bring a smile.” You suppress one of those and instead roll your eyes. “Your friends can’t think of new content, can they?”

You stuff the paper into your handbag, slung over the plastic chair near his bed. You've blocked out the rest of the world, now is time for just you two, however far away he may seem. Which is why you scowl up at the doctor, slightly confused at her sympathetic look, and then your ears ring and you shift back to reality. The reality of the situation.

The reality of the flatline.

The reality that, no matter how much you thrash in the security guard's arms, Leon's not coming back. He’s gone.

In a way, he's been gone for longer than you've chosen to accept. Maybe it would've been easier to let him go sooner. You're marched straight out of the hospital, a beeline for the exit, and you have little time to shout your goodbyes.

But you've grown used to taking advice from cookies. After all, they've gotten you to this point. The sarcasm you had so long ago seems silly to you, now, the fact that a biscuit could decide your fate.

To Leon?

Your voice keeps him smiling all the way up to the clouds.

[sideofmango]

HOT TOMALES! I just got a great idea for a request! Bakugo, Fatgum, Sero, and Hawks hcs of them with a black!fem!s/o but she has a Galaxy quirk. It gives her purple blue eyes with stars and constellation pupils that changes when she blinks, she blushes stardust and mini stars, has sparkly tears, and her quirk allows her to use black holes, comet like projectiles, and she can make mini stars and planets appear from her energy along with spreading stars and constellation like freckles all over her body. (I saw these gorgeous art designs and I couldn’t help myself. I do not own the art, they are just inspiration to me for this request 😭✨)

“She’s Out of This World” - Headcannons

Pairings: bakugou, fatgum, sero, and hawks x black!fem! reader Pronouns: she/her Warnings: none...besides a few curse words (cough...bakugou...cough)

Thanks for another great request <3

He definitely was NOT looking forward to the new foreign student joining the class when Aizawa first announced it

But then you stepped through the oversized doorway and he very obviously did a double take

Bakubitch was seeing stars...literally...you were flustered and blushing stardust

Bakugou thought that you were hot and your quirk was cool...though he would NOT admit it

He was definitely overly aggressive towards you when you met each other because bby boi didn’t know how to express his feelings

Hi crush grew when he saw you wouldn’t take his shit and you talked back...(he thought that was hot as fuck)

“Hey (y/n)-chan?” Midoriya asked from his seat, his half burnt journal out as he held a pen in his hand. His green eyes were wide as he looked you over before scribbling things down

Bakugou wasn’t saying anything and was pretending to be on his phone but he would look up every so often to see if you found Deku as annoying as he did

He was kinda bummed when he saw you didn’t

“What’s up Midoriya?” You asked back as Midoriya looked back up at you, loosing his train of thought when he saw the constellations in your eyes change and shooting stars in the purple-blue orbs when you blinked or got excited.

“C-can you make stars and planets and stuff?” He asked after a pause. This caught the explosive blonde’s attention as he watched you smile and nod.

“Yeah...do you want me to do it now?” Everyone nodded in response to your question, their eyes now focusing on you.

A mini galaxy began to appear above your hands, a small smile on your face as you looked at everyone’s excited and impressed faces.

“Woah! You’re really hot!” Mineta said, catching you off guard as your eyes widened and you cheeks became covered in stardust, a shooting star appearing above your head.

“T-thanks.” You grew even more flustered as some of the other boys agreed

Bakugou glared daggers at Mineta for breathing near you, so the fact that he talked to you was pissing him off even more

Mineta’s ass got BEAT after school and the next day Mineta wouldn’t even look at you

You caught the satisfied smirk on Bakugou’s face that he tried to hide when he saw Mineta practically piss his pants

“You know you could just talk to me...” You said from your seat behind Bakugou with a small laugh as Bakugou tried to hide his quickly reddening cheeks

He LOVES to talk about you and show you off, even if not a lot of people get to see you together because y’all are pro-heros

Will definitely talk everyone’s ears off when given the chance about how cool your galaxy quirk is and how strong and powerful you are to the point where some of his friends are convinced you aren’t real because they haven’t seen you together

No one questions him anymore after you joined him and his two interns on patrol when they spotted you after you had just finished your own patrol

“Excuse me.” You looked down when you felt a small tug at your belt, seeing a little girl with pigtails and warm brown eyes.

“Hi sweetheart.” You smiled widely at the girl as you kneeled to her level, noticing the doll of you in her arms and the small stars that were drawn on her cheeks.

“I wanna be just like you when I grow up! I already told my mommy!” The little girl told you excitedly as a woman who looks like the older version of the little girl in front of you smiles at you with a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I think you’ll make a great hero one day.” You told her as her eyes seemed to shine in adoration. Her little hand touched the stars on your cheek as she mumbled about how pretty it was.

“Thank you.” You laughed lightly as the little girl blushed.

“I can make sunlight!” She explained after a moment, excitedly showing you her hands that formed the little ball of light.

“Watch this.” You smiled, putting your hands around hers as you made tiny planets and a mini galaxy around her little ball of light that looked like a sun.

“Woah!” The little girl excitedly jumped up and down before hugging you as her mother thanked you before the pair walked off. You stood turning when you felt eyes on you.

It was your boyfriend, Toyomitsu and his two interns who had been watching the little exchange with small smiles.

“Are these your interns!” You asked him excitedly as you pulled at his large hand, eyeing the two teenagers.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded proudly. “Isn’t she out of this world?” He asked to the boys with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes at his corny joke, but let out a small laugh. 

“Do you want to join us?”

“Of course! Toyomitsu literally doesn’t stop talking about you two! It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Really? He hasn’t stopped talking about you either.” Kirishima said as your starry purple and blue eyes looked from the redhead to your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. He just smiled at you, a soft pink covering his cheeks as he shrugged.

Flex tape is super into you from the moment he saw you, but he was too nervous to say anything to you in the beginning

He was convinced you would go for someone like him (which is stupid bc he’s so cute)...he was obviously wrong

Both you and Sero’s quirks have pretty practical applications, especially when you generated small suns and moons as light sources

The first time you generated a black hole kinda scared him tho...even if it was a small one

Once you convinced him that you had complete control over the black hole, he wasn’t so nervous about it anymore.

Definitely takes advantage of the black hole creation ability of your quirk now too

“Hey (y/n) can you come over?” Your boyfriend called you. This made you nervous because you thought something bad could’ve happened...like that one time Sero had accidentally gotten his tape stuck in a fan while it was accidentally stuck in his hair

“What happened? Did you start a fire? Was Denki involved? Is there another fan, because I can go get my scissors again!” You said quickly as you stood at his door in the dorms. 

You had rushed there so it had only taken you a moment to get there after he had hung up.

“Nope...no fire, Kaminari wasn’t involved, and there isn’t another fan incident...but I kinda broke the vacuum cleaner and there’s glitter all over my room.”

“Why is there glitter everywhere?” You looked from the mess all on the floor to your boyfriend who smiled sheepishly at you.

“Well, Kaminari thought it would be fun to do a prank...and the test kinda backfired...”

“I thought you said Kaminari wasn’t involved?”

“Uh-” He stopped when you held your hand up with a sigh.

“What am I supposed to do about this Hanta?”

“I was thinking that maybe you could use a black hole...since it’s kinda like a vacuum?”

“Fine.” You sighed after a pause in conversation, nodding once before you made a small black hole appear in your hand. Pointing it towards the floor you sucked up all of the glitter before making the black hole disappear again.

“I knew it would be faster than a vacuum!” Sero told you as he hugged and thanked you.

“Don’t be so messy next time...and maybe stay away from the glitter.” You laughed.

Keigo was kind of caught off guard when he first saw you.

He originally thought your quirk had just changed your appearance and that it was only creating stars, well until one day...

You see, the pair of you had moved in together and had also gotten a dog because why the hell not?

Anyways Keigo was supposed to be getting home any moment from patrol and since you had been off that day, you stayed home with your dog

“Did you have to ruin your toys so quickly? We just brought you this ball.” You complained to the small rambunctious animal who simple stared up at you with big brown eyes and a wag of its tail.

“Alright, let’s try this then.” You said after thinking for a moment. You created a small planet before throwing it down the hall. If your dog broke it, you could simply make a new one and it wouldn’t be a waste of money.

The dog happily chased after it before appearing a moment later with the small blue planet in its mouth. It put the sphere down at your feet, looking up at you and waiting for you to throw it again.

The door opened as you threw it down the hall again, Keigo walking into the house after just getting off. 

He set his goggles on the table by the door along with his special headphones, taking his gloves and jacket off at the door.

“I’m home, Birdie.” He called out as your dog ran towards him and dropped the strange new ball that he didn’t remember getting at his feet.

“I’m in here.”

“Weird.” The pro-hero mumbled before tossing the ball again and walking towards where your voice had come from.

“How was patrol?” You asked as your dog appeared again, the broken planet in front of him on the ground at your feet.

“It was fine...nothing major.” He answered simply, watching as you sighed giving a look to your dog before putting your hands together and making another small sphere, this time a purple color.

“Try not to break it so quickly this time.” You told the dog before tossing it.

“What was that?” He questioned as you looked at him confused. “When you put your hands together?” He clarified.

“Oh...did I forget to tell you? He broke his new ball, so I created a planet for him. I just figured it would be easier than buying him another toy that he’ll just end up destroying.” You shrugged.

“You can make planets?”

“Among other things.” You laughed softly at the surprised face he made. “I thought I told you.”

“No...but that’s cool as hell! What else can you do?” He asked, his eyes not leaving yours as he laid his head in your lap as you both sat on the couch with you explaining your quirk in depth.

Tags:

[azucanela]

FIRST DATE HEADCANNONS + SCENARIOS

[FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI, TODOROKI SHOUTO SHINSOU HITOSHI]

SUMMARY: Your first date with a few some of the first year boys[Bakugo Katuski, Shinsou Hitoshi, Todoroki Shouto].

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: kissing, pretty pg, wholesome, perhaps slightly ooc oops, bad writing, just a tad of spice

A/N: someone send tik tok related requests they make me laugh

BAKUGO KATSUKI

when he asks you out on a date for the first time hes not actually asking

comes up to you and tells you, “get dressed im taking you out.”

you are just there talking to mina and kirishima in your pjs like ???

“with your quirk?” like you dead thought he was telling you he intended to kill you 

“no idiot...” now he’s embarrassed oh no

mina and kirishima are like 👀👀

“on a date?” they’re really trying to help him get his point across bc playing matchmaker is fun

“SHUT UP EXTRAS”

probably takes you to like some sort of outdoor thing on the first date

has to to involve movement

stroll through the park, or through like a mall if you don’t like more athletic experiences 

take him on a date to a trampoline park. do it. 

COOKS FOR YOU ON THE FIRST DATE!!!!!!!!

ITS AMAZING 

YOU HAVE BEEN BLESSED

is quieter during a date rather than his normal explosive self, he wants to listen to you, get to know you better

won’t kiss on the first date unless there’s a pre established friendship

your next date happens the same way, just tells you that you guys are going out, but you get it this time

lets you choose where you guys go that time

wants equal contribution to dates 

katsuki in street clothes is just beautiful, just ART, a masterpiece, he looks like a grumpy piece of ART

Katuski had just asked Y/N on a date, completely out of nowhere. Katsuki had asked Y/N on a date. It was difficult to believe, and considering his loud tone, the rest of Class 1-A also found it shocking, the student who claimed to have all his focus on becoming the number one pro-hero was now seeking a relationship. Ironic.

Though Y/N herself initially didn’t understand what he had been trying to say, she quickly got the message, and off they went. She was necessarily shocked by his feelings for her, they had discussed it in the dead of night, when she couldn’t sleep so he decided to forgo his normal grandpa sleep schedule. He fell asleep shortly after that conversation though, in her arms, he’d likely deny it if she ever mentioned it though.

Now, she sat on the counter in his parent’s kitchen, though neither of them were home, and the kitchen looked mostly unused. Y/N had tried to assist him but he’d brushed her off, “I asked you out. And you’re a horrible cook.” 

Y/N hopped off the counter and came up behind him, “whatever.” She mumbled, half expecting Katsuki to shove her away as she wrapped her arms around his torso as he sliced vegetables. He didn’t, though he did freeze momentarily before grumbling something about how dumb she was, Y/N knew he didn’t mean it based off the blush on his cheeks. 

Katsuki placed the vegetables into a pot of boiling water, covering it with a lid before tapping Y/N’s hand, signaling for her to let go. When she did, he turned around, and Y/N’s brow was raised. “C’mere.” He pulled her closer with one hand, and placed another on the back of her necks, bringing their lips together. 

She hummed in response, hand tangling into his hair, this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed. But it was the first time they’d gone on a date, he’d been sure to hide the dining room from her on the way inside, and she couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up inside her. 

Y/N’s free hand found it’s way to his bicep, nails digging into his soft skin, courtesy of his quirk. Meanwhile, Katsuki’s hand found its way to the curve of her back, pushing her body closer to his only for Y/N to pull away, “pay attention while you are cooking.”

Turning to look at the pot, he’d realized that it was boiling far too much for comfort and cursed, releasing Y/N to salvage his food, she began to laugh. Katuski glared at her as he turned off the stove and put the put the vegetables into a nearby plate. 

With a smile on her face, she pressed a kiss onto his cheek, only for him to roll his eyes as he picked up the plate and moved out of the kitchen, Y/N trailing close behind as he headed to the dining room. “Can I see now?” She asked.

After a moment of contemplation, he nodded, and together they entered the dining room. It was a basic set up for a date, but it certainly set an intimate atmosphere that was rare when you lived in a dorm with several other students, and Mineta. There were candles lighting the room, and a rose in the center of the table, along with more food that he had already placed on the table. 

Grinning at him, Y/N spoke, “god you are such a sap.”

His cheeks flushed as he responded, “shut up.” 

SHINSOU HITOSHI

lol cutie, he asks you out on a date, you two are probably close friends and he just really likes your personality and attitude and stuff

“you don’t have to- well you know that but-”

“no, i’ll go out with you.”

“it’s fine i understand- wait what?”

did not think he’d get this far so he had no plans, he was expecting to plan a funeral for your friendship

ends up being the basic movie and food date

he picks a horror movie because he wants to protect you!!!

it makes him feel useful and bb needs validation

hold his hand during the movie

give him AFFECTION

you guys end up skipping dinner because you filled up on popcorn and other snacks during the movie so y’all just walk around

gives you his j a c k e t if its cold

he’s classy like that

unlike other people, he would kiss you on the first date

it would be an AMAZING experience that probably occurs at your front door, super adorable, he asks if he can kiss you

“can i kiss you?” fully expects you to say no

“yeah you can.”

“its fine, thanks for going out with me- wait what?”

same vibes as asking you out, did NOT expect this

walks you home because he is a GENTLEMAN change my mind, Shinsou brought back chivalry 2020

treats you RIGHT!!! the entire date, opens doors for you, pulls out your chair if necessary, pays for you unless you try to split the check but he might propose if you do that and pay for you regardless

When Shinsou asked Y/N out, he genuinely expected her to say no. His plans for the date included a funeral for himself and the friendship between the two of them. But, Shinsou was an honest guy and wanted to confess his feelings to her, secrets were a rarity between them, and this was no exception. They’d known each other for a while and his feelings weren’t something he could make disappear, no matter how hard he tried.

The last thing he expected was for her to agree to go out with him. 

She was still clinging onto his arm rather harshly as they exited the movie theater, having seen a horror movie, she exclaims, “I am never letting you pick the movie again.” 

Shinsou can’t help it when his heart skips a beat at her comment, looking over to her as he smirks, “again? So there will be a next time?” He asked, hoping that he hadn’t misunderstood.

Her cheeks warm, even though he asked her out, and Y/N looks away, “yes, if you want.” She mumbled, loosening her grip on his arm as they stepped outside. Cool air hits her, and Y/N can’t help the shiver that goes down her spine at the sudden cold. 

“I asked you out, of course I want a second date.” He replied, taking his arm from her grasp to remove his jacket, which he puts around her shoulders. “You still want dinner?” 

Y/N hums, taking his hand in hers and grinning as his cheeks turn red, “I’m not really hungry after all the snacks we had.” She replied, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “Let’s just walk.” 

They walked throughout the small shopping center, speaking with each other in regards to a variety of topics before beginning the walk home, when it started to rain. Thankfully, they were nearby Y/N’s home, and the laughs that consumed them as they ran didn’t stop as they ran up under the roof of Y/N’s porch. Shinsou’s hair was now matted onto his head thanks to the rain, their clothes soaked. 

Looking up at him, Y/N let another laugh escape her, “I like your hair.” She teased, bringing a hand up to ruffle it, though it had little effect.

Shinsou playfully glared at her, “yeah, yeah.” A smile found its way onto his face as he looked at her, the rain still hammering down on the roof, he found himself not wanting to let go of her hand as he asked, “can I kiss you? You don’t need-” He began to ramble, and Y/N was reminded of when he first asked her out as she watched him. 

Y/N’s hand released his and she grabbed his face, bringing his lips to hers, effectively silencing him as his hands fell onto her hips. They broke apart momentarily, only for Y/N’s arms to circle around his neck and pull him closer for yet another kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled as they pulled apart.

Tilting her head, Y/N smirked, “you’re cute.” Shinsou ducked his head to hide the pink in his cheeks at this comment. “Be here next Saturday around 2 in the afternoon. This time I pick the movie.”

Looking back up, he raised a brow. “I happened to enjoy the movie, particularly the parts when you-”

“I don’t have to agree to a second date.” Y/N threatened as she playfully slapped his shoulder before heading to her front door, looking back at him as she walked.

Shinsou hummed, eyes meeting hers as he grabbed her hand and yanked her back. “I think I liked the way you shut me up the first time around better.” He presses a gentle kiss to her lips before releasing her hand so that she can head inside. 

TODOROKI SHOUTO

THIS BOY

you probably don’t know its a date he’s like “so how was the date”

and you there like “im sorry how was the WHAT?”

asks his siblings for help because he’s clueless, also asks izuku and maybe even bakugo during their remedial course, though camie is 10x more helpful

this is because shoto always spends all of his father’s money on you

while you two are just best friends, he’ll see you look at something and then he’ll just buy it

you guys already act like a couple. like stfu we get it, you have Class 1-A’s resident pretty boy wrapped around your finger jeez no need to brag

it because he’s in love with you already but he doesn’t know that its not his fault he is oblivious to his own emotions

this just amplifies on a date

tries to take you to a ridiculously fancy restaurant and you’re like???

settles for a cafe

you get lost in the convo and forget to actually drink your drink so he just reheats it or makes it nice and cool again ya know

super useful bb

give him validation

listens to you super intently 

intellectual conversations EVERYWHERE he is literally so fun to talk to like discuss any and everything with him

First date at a cafe, he’s rich, he stole his dad’s credit card, and he happens to love trying new things since he was sheltered as a child so he will buy EVERY S I N G L E DRINK for you two to try them all together

50/50 chance he kisses you on the first date

100% chance a kiss happens if you initiate it

he walks you home, and depending on if you are feeling hot or cold, you’ll stand by his side, preferably away from the road because shoto is a gentleman who gets hit by cars for his partner 

When Izuku had suggested that Shoto take Y/N out on a date to help confess his feelings for her, he figured it would be a good idea. Except, he forgot the part where he asked her on the date.

Oops.

This didn’t really dawn on him as she led him away from the fancy restaurant he had tried to convince her to enter,  “we both know that neither of us would understand a thing on the menu because it’s probably all in french.” Though she had dressed for the occasion, and so had he. “Why do you even want to eat there?” Y/N asked, her hand still holding his as she dragged him along the side walk.

She knew very well how much he disliked such places. They reminded him of all the high end restaraunts he had been forced to go to as a child. And since his father was an infamous pro hero, and Shoto himself was one of the more popular Class 1-A students, it wasn’t uncommon for reporters to frequent areas he was seen in. Carrying their cameras as they tried to get a story about him or his father. He’d told Y/N numerous times how much he disliked the attention, which is why he avoided certain areas of the city. 

Shoto stared at their joined hands, that feeling of joy bubbling in his chest, “my understanding is that you take people to a nice restaurant for a date.” Came his response.

Y/N stopped walking, though Shoto didn’t, causing him to run into her and nearly trip her had he not grabbed waist to keep her from falling. “This is a date?” She asked, hands clinging to his arms as she tried to maintain balance. He’d been acting different, so Y/N felt as though she shouldn’t be shocked, but the fact that Shoto liked her?

He said nothing, releasing her from his arms before taking a step back, “I feel as though I should apologize-” Shoto began, realizing his mistake.

“I know a nice Café I’ve been meaning to visit that’s nearby, you want to continue this there?” She interrupted, extending her hand. Y/N wasn’t stupid, neither was Shoto, she knew he was inexperienced in the romance department and it was clear this was his attempt to woo her. 

It was cute. 

Looking up at her, he couldn’t help but give her a small smile, which she returned as he took her hand. Shoto was thankful that she hadn’t mentioned his poor preparation for the whole ‘date’ thing, since he failed to really ask her about it. Thankfully she was just going with it, “I really like you, Y/N.” It was blunt, but it was the truth, and it was Shoto, being himself. 

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as they approached the Café, “I really like you too, Shoto.” He moved in front of her to open the door, “and here we are.” She gestured to the small Café as they entered, it was a nice set up and she had been meaning to visit. The fact that it was Shoto that she was visiting with made it all the better.

“Why don’t you go find us somewhere to sit?” He suggested, small smile on his face. “I’ll save us a spot in line.” Y/N nodded, and it was clear that she had yet to notice that there was no line, and Shoto had Endeavor’s beautiful black mastercard in hand. 

Which is how they ended up with every possible drink on their table, some of which were going cold, and the cashier thanking Shoto for the $200 cash tip, laughing quietly side by side in their small corner within the Café. Y/N had chosen a more isolated part, though there were already very few people within the store. 

She looked up from her drink to find Shoto’s eyes on her, an unreadable look in his eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile at him, one that he returned. “I like this.” He said, his hand finding hers as he played with her fingers. 

“Me too.” Y/N replied, watching his movements. She found herself Y/N bringing her hand to Shoto’s cheek, and his eyes met hers momentarily, looking up at her in awe as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips.

Neither of them knew what they were doing, Shoto’s delayed reaction reminded them both of this fact as he finally kissed back after a few moments. The hand that had once been fidgeting with Y/N’s free hand, making its way to her bicep to rub circles in the spot. 

The moment didn’t last long, and when she pulled away, his lips were chasing hers, “we should do this more often.”

A small smile was on his face as he stared at her with what seemed like stars in his eyes, “yeah.” He pressed a kiss to her hand, “we should.”

A/N: when i tell you season 4 made me CRY

[a-master-procrastinator]

Long ass post about the Eternal family not being a copy-paste from ATLA (aka I like the memes but my god can you please stop)

Because some people truly think that Vaylin is off-brand Azula, Arcann is Zuko and so on.

It's. Called. A. Trope. (I mean how often do we come across abusive manipulative fathers in media? Mothers who couldn't much to change anything? Children, desperately looking for their parent's approval no matter what?)

Of course, you have to consider the fact that the writing of ATLA is simply better than of KotFE/ET, so this might have been one of the reasons why people say that.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender, Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions!

Okay, so here's my unprofessional, maybe biased, not super deep take.

(not going to mention that all of them are members of royal, ruling family, kinda obvious)

What roles do they play in their stories? Well, both Valkorion and Ozai are main antagonists, but their presence throughout the story is very different. Ozai is rarely shown in first two seasons, we don't even see his face until season 3. He doesn't have a direct connection to the protagonist, they only meet at the very end of the show, and Ozai's role is to pose a threat to the world, while Aang's is to save it. Valkorion, on the other hand, is constantly on the screen, interacting with the main character, challenging their viewpoint and influencing them directly. His end goal is similar to Ozai's (destroy everything and be the only ruler of the his nation), but with one major difference - he's trapped in Outlander's mind, so to achieve his goal Valkorion attempts to take control of the main character. Their interactions play important role in the story, and we spend a lot of time with Valkorion.

In addition to that, their relationship with children are also not exactly the same. It seems like Azula is Ozai's favorite and Zuko is a failure in his eyes until he meets his expectations, and the same goes with Vaylin, Arcann and Valkorion, right? Well, partially. Indeed, Valkorion and Ozai's treat their sons in similar ways (are disappointed in them until they meet their expectation by doing something that goes against their morals), but when it comes to Vaylin and Azula, it's not that easy. See, Valkorion claims that Vaylin was always his favorite creation (even though we know it's actually his empire), and he certainly seems to take pride in her potential in the Force. But her power is the very reason he's afraid of his own daughter, and in this fear Valkorion literally locks Vaylin away and allows to put her through physical and mental torture just to make sure she won't become a threat, won't overpower him. Maybe he thought of her better than of Arcann, but she wasn't his favored child for sure. I don't want to say that Azula hasn't experienced abuse from Ozai, but for the most part he clearly favored her over Zuko. He has never shown fear of Azula's power and abilities (or at least I haven't noticed), quite the opposite - allowed her to do a lot, as long as she brings results.

I could also mention their slightly different characterization (mostly that we get more characterization of Valkorion, get to learn his motivations, views, philosophy and all that, also he's portrayed as more nuanced, even if he not really is) and role in their respective governments (ozai is one of many Fire Lords and arguably not the greatest, while Valkorion is a god to citizens of Zakuul, their only Immortal Emperor), but those are details, and I think you get the point.

What's similar: role of the main antagonist, manipulative and abusive father, goal of destruction of everything that isn't their nation/empire, relationship with disgraced son.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with the main character, relationship with daughter, role in their societies.

Senya and Ursa are even less similar. Yes, they both are mothers who love their children, but have to leave them, but these are probably the only things they have in common. Just as with Ozai and Valkorion's presence throughout the story, Ursa is only shown in flashbacks (for obvious reasons), and Senya is one of major characters in KotFE and (a bit less major) in KotET. Ursa leaves because she has to kill Azulon in order to save Zuko, and later isn't present in the story (I'm aware that her fate is told in comics, but we aren't talking about it). Senya leaves because when she tries to take children with her, they refuse, and she understands that she can't force them to, nor she can help them to break free from Valkorion's manipulations. For a long time she's absent from Arcann ad Vaylin's lives, but at the time of game events she attempts to save her children and stop the madness and destruction they've caused, and it isn't a small part of the story.

I also want to add that their relationship with Ozai and Valkorion are also different, but can't say much about Ursa. I heard that she didn't choose this marriage and suffered emotional (and maybe physical???) abuse from Ozai. I can say with confidence, though, that Senya genuinely loved Valkorion, and strangely enough, he seems to at very least respect her. But, of course, this wasn't the best marriage either.

Plus, we see more of Senya's relationship with Vaylin than Arcann or Thexan, but with Ursa we see her more with Zuko than Azula. Just a detail to remember.

(also Senya is simply a better character but that besides the point, moving on. in this house we stand Senya)

What's similar: role of loving and caring mother, abandoning their family at some point.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with husband, characterization in general.

Boy, where do I even begin. Vaylin and Azula are similar in that they are both extremely powerful (one is firebending prodigy, the other is potentially stronger than Valkorion), both are cruel "craaaaazy" (i hate that cliché), both are younger sisters, have serious mother issues (seemingly more so than father issues), both go through betrayal of people they could always rely on, which eventually leads to their downfall. But when I took a look at their personal arcs, it became clear that they aren't the same (unfortunately, Vaylin's arc is very rushed and underdeveloped, but we'll have to go with what we have and my personal view, sorry).

There's a really good video about writing corruption and madness, and I'm going to base my thoughts on it. To summarise it: a good corruption arc should have 4 components:

- the character has a specific goal (or a goal and subgoals);

- in pursuit of said goal they become the cause of a significant event that brings serious consequences;

- as the result of these consequences, character abandons their morals, ideals or a code in pursuit of goal;

- character either will not achieve their goal or will succeed, but it won't be enough to satisfy them.

And then the author brings Azula's arc as one of the best examples of compelling story of corruption (so basically, she represents it perfectly). In short, Azula's main goals are perfection and control, and subgoals help achieve the main ones. In pursuit of these goals, Azula causes Mai and Ty Lee to betray her (by pushing them too far to do something they wouldn't do), which then causes her to become paranoid, which makes her to attempt controlling everything and everyone around her, *breathes* which makes her lose control over herself and ....

Now, I thought if Vaylin's arc could fit into a corruption one, and next part will be based a lot on my assumptions and personal view of her character (plus rushed writing doesn't help), but I think yes (or at least mostly). The difference is in goals, ideals and details.

While the story strongly makes us think that Vaylin's goal is freedom (or control over her life and everything around her) or power and destruction, I think it's actually self-determination (which was said by Tenebrae in 6.2) and feeling safe. Let me explain (and here I thought this would be a short comparison). Sure, when Valkorion caged Vaylin on Nathema, he took choices and control over her life from his daughter. But let's not forget whom Vaylin blames for this (even more than Valkorion): her own mother, and I think this details tell us that the most important thing that Vaylin lost on Nathema is feeling safe. Then, after Arcann brought her home, I assume Vaylin still didn't feel safe enough under Valkorion's rule, still too afraid that he'd simply send her back to that hellish place.

It's when Valkorion is struck down Vaylin finally has a feeling of personal safety, even if she isn't the one on the throne. Why? Because back on Nathema there were two people who haven't turned on her - Arcann and Thexan (yes, this is also a huge assumption, bc the game states that only Thexan visited her, but it doesn't make much sense).

I've always noticed (and I'm not alone in this) that her behavior in Fallen Empire is different from the way she acted in Eternal Throne. Most likely bc of rushed writing, but I see a character driven reason here. In first of these expansions, Vaylin is the second person in power on Zakuul, and with Arcann being in charge, person she can trust more than any other living being, she feels safe - she can test her power, and now Valkorion won't prevent it, she can do pretty much everything she wishes, and the most Arcann will do about this is mildly complain (without blaming her). Really would be nice if we got to see any normal hobbies of Vaylin (like wasn't there something about books or art?), but I digress. She might have some questions about Arcann's tactics, but they get along just fine. The important thing to note is Vaylin not seeking to hunt the Outlander personally, to rule or conquer the rest of the galaxy, or trying to achieve absolute freedom or power. She's kinda there.

This, however, changes when Arcann doesn't allow Vaylin to kill Senya. Their relationship was getting somewhat worse towards the end of KotFE, but this is a turning event Vaylin caused by attempting to strike her mother. By saving the person Vaylin blames for all the trauma from sending her to Nathema, Arcann threatened her feeling of safety. And now Vaylin starts to believing that to achieve safety she now needs to kill people who hurt her (that's why she's so determined to find Senya and Arcann), take the throne and hunt down Outlander (she was manipulated by SCORPIO to these subgoals).

(The following is the weakest, I'll admit, but I hope I can at least express what I see). So, in trying to achieve goals she didn't want before Vaylin loses in self-determination, being either driven by overwhelming anger or manipulated by others (SCORPIO or Commander on Odessen), desperately trying to accomplish anything, or even goes against her morals (like by erasing GEMINI's free will protocols, when earlier she agreed that freedom to choose is important; or breaking the deal on Odessen). All of these result in her downfall.

But even this isn't the end. The key difference between arcs of Azula Vaylin lies in it's resolution, or that Vaylin have a chance to overcome corruption in the main narrative (and Azula doesn't. again, not including comics here, sorry). After death, Vaylin is again controlled by Valkorion in Outlander's mind. First time physically (she can't resist it), second time mentally. This is where Vaylin has to choose - kill brother who betrayed her and Commander who killed her, or go against Valkorion, person responsible for almost all of her pain and trauma. She has t choose by herself, and I think it's a good start.

Now, before 6.2 we all thought Vaylin was dead for good, but that story update hinted at possibility of her coming back to life. What I like to think is that now that she dealt with people responsible for her trauma (helped defeat Valkorion and actually for once listened to Senya), Vaylin can now have a different life, finding herself with support of someone she doesn't hold a grudge against and who treats her well (Satele, I mean).

I'm so sorry for going into details, but I needed this long explanation to present the point (and I suck at explanations). As said before, this is my version of her arc, and most likely wrong interpretation, but even with personal freedom of choice, Vaylin character differs from Azula a lot.

Need I mention that Vaylin relationship with Arcann and Valkorion are drastically different from those between Azula, Zuko and Ozai?

(Also a little detail - with royal family of Fire Nation, Azula is the golden child, while with Tiralls it's actually Thexan, not Vaylin).

What's similar: role of extremely powerful, emotionally damaged daughter with little to no regard towards others, close people betraying them, resulting in their downfall.

What's different: characterization, role in the narrative, relationship with father and brother.

Arcann and Zuko is the most difficult part, but I still believe that calling Arcann just a cheap copy of Zuko is incorrect.

So, they fall into role of less successful son, always getting disapproval from father, being in shadow of more talented sibling, both obsessed with capturing the main character but ending up helping them end the war after going through a redemption arc with help of caring family member. Even both have scars on left side of face. Yeah, seems similar. I still think they are different characters.

Let's start with their relationships with family. In Valkorion section I said that his attitude towards Arcann is similar to that of Ozai towards Zuko, so not going to spend too much time here. However, there's slight difference - Zuko didn't kill his father even he had a perfect opportunity (bc it wasn't his goal), Arcann did (bc it was one of his goals), which says something about their characterizations.

Zuko and Ursa were shown to have a good mother-son relationship, and it played a role in Zuko's character. With Arcann and Senya, we don't really know (not much was shown in expansions). We know Arcann didn't hate his mother, but possibly didn't have warm memories of her either. The reason is most likely, like Senya said, her children wanted nothing to do with her (which is a bit untrue about Vaylin, but okay) and leaned more towards Valkorion. We need to remember that on Zakuul Valkorion isn't just one of many great leaders, he's the greatest, and seen as a god by most citizens, so safe to assume the same would apply to his children as well.

Zuko and Azula's siblingship (i'm out of words) is a bit similar to Arcann and Vaylin's in way of brother knowing that his sister isn't good, but still caring about them (even if not showing). At least it's what I saw. What's different is how Azula treats Zuko, compared to how Vaylin treats Arcann. I think Azula showed compassion or concern for Zuko maybe twice, but I'm not entirely convinced that it was 100% sincere. Vaylin, on the other hand, seems to trust and care about Arcann (with bits of sass and questioning his life choices), and switching to complete opposite after him saving Senya. Also, I don't she ever called Arcann a failure in their father's eyes.

Now I want to say that their roles in stories aren't the same either. Sure, both are introduced to us as antagonists, but in reality, Zuko was never a true antagonist (we get to learn this somewhere mid-season 1), when Arcann remains the main antagonist for whole of KotFE. Zuko didn't start a war and didn't participate in conquest of other nations too much, his main goal was to capture the Avatar so to restore his honor (and deserve his father's forgiveness). Honestly, I think it's safe to say the Zuko is one of two main protagonists of ATLA. Why does Arcann want to capture the Outlander? Solely because his father's spirit still lives inside this person's mind, and the best solution to keep Valkorion away from the galaxy is not letting the Outlander free (hence the carbonite freezing). And Arcann doesn't want or need Valkorion's forgiveness when he attempts to kill him (or kills him, depending on your choice. anyway, his action directly leads to Valkorion's "death"). And right after that he becomes a ruler of Zakuul and begins the conquest of Republic, Sith Empire and everything he can reach (the reasoning behind this is still unclear to me though; maybe because he was raised with ruling Zakuul in mind and he didn't anything else, idk). Point is, he's responsible for war and main's character imprisonment, which makes him the main antagonist of KotFE. They have it the opposite ways - Zuko starts as disgraced prince, supported by a little group of people, and in the end he's recognized and appreciated by his nation, and Arcann starts as respected by his empire, later becoming less and less loved, until some groups start rebelling his rule, and in the end he doesn't get to rule Zakuul again.

This leads me to their morals. See, Zuko didn't have the worst morals in Fire Nation, even more, he expressed care for loyals soldiers of his nation before getting punished by Ozai. During first season (and about a half of second one) his views on other nations are what he was taught before. However, these views are challenged by travelling in Earth Kingdom, witnessing people suffering from war Fire Nation started and hating its people (you already know all of this), and with this he comes through final stage of redemption when he's back home. Unfortunately, Arcann doesn't go through this, and he's shown to be more ruthless.

Alright, when it comes to their redemption arcs, well let's say they are different (both in quality and the way they go through it), I'm just a bit tired of long explanations at this point. Zuko's arc is one of the best ever put on television, and Arcann's... well, it definitely has potential, but is criminally underdeveloped (there are other people who will explain it better than I ever could).

What's similar: role of disgraced son, living in shadow of their sibling, serious injuries on the left side of face (though with different meanings), obsession with capturing the main character, having a redemption arc.

What's different: role in the narrative, role in their society, characterization, relationship with sister and mother, different end goals (before redemption), paths to redemption.

[cherryobx]

I’m proud of you, son//Rafe Cameron x reader

requested?: yessss “when you have the time, can I request a fic where rafe brings home his girl who's a year younger and he's so proud of her bc 'look at her, she's gorgeous and smart and I did this dad' and Sarah and Wheezie like her and rafe is just do happy bc look he made ward proud and ward tell him he's proud of him and it's just rly cute?”

summary: Rafe finally introduces you to his family

warnings: fluff 

WC:1241

(NOT MY GIF, CREDS TO THE OWNER!!!)

You and Rafe had been dating for almost 6 months now. You had been keeping it a bit of a secret. Not because you didn’t want to be seen with Rafe. It was actually his idea to keep it a secret. He was not sure how his father would feel about it. And honestly, he was scared.

He had previously brought a girl home to his dad a few years ago and Ward had gotten so mad for some reason. And then Rafe broke up with her. 

Rafe didn’t want to admit it, but his father’s opinion was actually really important to him.

“Are you sure you’re not going to break up with me when he doesn’t like me?” you asked looking up at him. You were standing outside of his house, about to go in to meet Rafe’s dad and Rose for the first time.

“I’m positive. Trust me when I say that nothing can make me change my feelings about you,” he reassured, grabbing your hand and placing a small kiss on the back of it when he noticed that your hands were shaking from the nerves.

“It’s going to be okay.”

As soon as he opened the door, a blonde woman came out of somewhere rushing towards you, a wine glass in her hand. She had an apron on, although you were 100% sure she didn’t cook.

“Oh my God! You must be Y/N. So nice to meet you!” She hugged you very tightly, making you let go of Rafe’s hand and almost spill her wine all over you. 

“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Cameron!”

She giggled. “Oh please! Call me Rose. Now come on, the food is almost ready.” 

Your hand quickly found Rafe’s again when you followed Rose into the dining room.

Everyone else was there already, sitting behind the dinner table. Sarah and Wheezie were on their phones, not paying attention to what was happening, and Ward was reading a newspaper.

“Dad. I want to meet my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe said. At this point, you were more nervous than you had ever been in your whole entire life. Your palms were sweating and you felt your knees get a bit weak.

Rafe, noticing your nervousness, squeezed your hand a bit, letting you know that he was right there with you.

Sarah and Wheezie had put down their phones to look at the interaction that was about to happen.

Ward set his newspaper down onto the table and stood up from where he was sitting. Then he walked over to you two. He held out his hand and you shook it, smiling at him. Surprisingly he smiled back.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ward. How much did he pay you to be here tonight?”

You were shocked that he would even ask anything like this. “What?”

“I’m just kidding. Let’s sit down! Shall we?”

Then it was time to sit around the table and eat dinner. You were sat between Rafe and Sarah. Wheezie was sitting on the other side of Sarah. Ward and Rose were sat on the opposite side of the table, facing you.

As the food was served, Ward and Rose started to ask you questions about you and your relationship with Rafe.

“So… how did you guys meet?” Rose asked, taking a bite of her food.

You looked at Rafe, silently telling him to talk about it.

“Uhh, we met at a small get-together almost a year ago.” By “a small get-together” he meant a pretty huge party that was thrown by Topper. “And then we became friends and started dating six months after. That’s basically it.”

“Interesting,” Ward commented. “Do you go to school, Y/N?”

“I just graduated high school at the beginning of this summer, so currently not. But I applied to a few universities. Hopefully, I can start studying again this fall.”

“Oh, that’s great. Maybe you can convince Rafe to go back to college too,” Ward said, which made Rafe scoff. “Not a chance.”

“Wait how old are you again?”

“I’m 18, sir.”

“You can call me Ward, Y/N.”

“Okay, sir.” You quickly realized what you had said and mentally face-palmed. “Ward.”

“And do you have any hobbies? Have you found something that interests you?”

“No, not particularly,” you answered.

“Oh come on, Y/N! She’s an artist. Like you have to see her work, it’s amazing. Is it okay if I show a few pictures?” Rafe turned to you. He knew that you were a bit insecure about your art, so he wanted to make sure you were okay with it.

You nodded, so he took out his phone and showed Rose and Ward some pictures of your most recent paintings.

“Wow, these are absolutely spectacular, Y/N! You’re a really good artist.” Rose looked at the pictures, complimenting your art.

“Thank you!”

Ward agreed. “Rose is right, these are really beautiful. Have you thought about selling some of your work? I bet many people would want to buy from you.”

“Thank you, but no I haven’t. I don’t think these are worth selling.”

“Oh, they definitely are. But you do you.”

As the evening went on, you weren’t as nervous anymore and you actually enjoyed talking to his family. They seemed like really nice people, despite what Rafe had previously told you about them.

“I’ll come over tonight, okay?” Rafe said, hugging you and resting his head on top of yours. It was time for you to leave.

“Okay.”

Now felt like the right time. “I love you, Rafe.”

He distanced himself a bit from you so he could look into your eyes. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. He was in utter disbelief. Neither of you had said ‘i love you’ yet. So this was a huge thing.

“You what?” he asked, still in shock.

“I love you.”

He then pulled you closer to him again, squeezing you so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe. He happily spun you around, a huge smile on his face. “I love you too, Y/N” He put you back onto the ground and smashed his lips against yours.

“I can’t believe this,” he mumbled against your lips.

“That I love you?” you asked, pulling away from the kiss and smiling like crazy.

“I can’t believe that I have a girlfriend like you. You’re literally the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He placed small kisses everywhere on your face, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay, enough! I have to go now.”

“Fine! If you have to,” he jokingly sighed.

“I love you. See you later tonight!” You hopped into your car and started up the engine.

“I love you too!”  He gave you one last kiss on the lips before you drove away.

As he entered his house again, Ward patted him on his back.

“She’s a keeper. I’m proud of you, son.” For the second time that night, Rafe couldn’t believe what he had heard. 

“You are?”

“Of course, but if I don’t see a ring on her finger a few years from now, I’m going to be very mad at you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Rafe assured him, a big smile on his face.

He felt like for once in his life, he hadn’t failed. He had the best girlfriend in the world and his father was finally proud of him. Life couldn’t get any better.

taglist: @teamnick @www-imbored-com @delightfullynlove @prejudic3 @afterglows7b-tch13 @tomhardybby @ad-infinitums @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @ilovejjmaybank @mdlyncline @allycat449-blog @teenwaywardasgardian @copper-boom @canibeoneofthepogues @fttayla @ifilwtmfc @bedazzledbanks @jeyramarie @joshy-obx @pink-meringues

[laurieteddy]

good company | amy march 

description: where amy shares her true feelings and 

request: “Could you write a Amy March x fem reader ? Maybe something like reader is a model for Amy’s painting classes and Amy falls in love while painting her and so she pursues the reader?” 

warnings: light angst in one part, and mentions of homophobia bc of the time period

word count: ~3,650

a/n: so, so, so sorry this tool me so long!! requests just always seem to... i hope you like it! also, the painting classes part was sort of small, sorry!!

---

This wasn’t what Amy had expected when she thought of what would happen in her art classes. Of course she knew she would be painting live models, that much was obvious, but she hadn’t even imagined that she would fall for any of them. The models were there to do their job, and the artists were there to paint them. It was as simple as that, or was supposed to be. 

When you came in, though, it changed things.

It wasn’t as if it was like “love at first sight” which a younger version of Amy would’ve believed in more. Though, as time passed she seemed to only admire you more and more. You held yourself so delicately yet seemed so carefree when talking to others before a session began. She had observed you closely from the first day she met you, which could be shrugged off in the beginning because you were the subject she was painting, of course she was observing you. 

Amy shook it off as long as she could, it was completely new to her. Sure, she had feelings for Laurie at a younger age, a lot of people tend to have a crush at some point in their lives. But you were a woman, this changed everything. She told herself she was infatuated because you were the model, you were of her interest because you were the subject she had to focus on. But it felt like more than that. It felt, to her, similar to the feelings she had toward Laurie those few years ago.

The two of you had spoken quite a few times, before and after classes and sometimes during breaks if there were any. You had noticed her gaze always seemed to be following you, which you would tease her about on occasion. Amy always seemed to have a smile accompanied with a blush when she talked to you, she couldn’t help it. In times where you might poke fun at her you would earn a deeper shade of red from her cheeks.

She was glad to be able to talk to you. You reminded her of home in ways, being so carefree but at the same time you were careful to pay mind to your surroundings. You would both tell each other stories of your homes and families, your hopes and dreams even if they were silly, you would talk about anything just to have a conversation. Conversations you shared never seemed to be dry, even if you were only talking about the weather, because it was just nice to be talking to each other.

You were glad to have met Amy, finding yourself naturally drawn to her. It became a nearly daily routine to spend at least an hour of your time with one another, finding company outside of classes too now. You were more familiar with the area and so Amy took advantage of this to have you show her around. On top of that, while she fit in with most crowds just fine, she preferred your company over most other’s there, especially Aunt March.

“How’ve you never had a pickled lime?!” Amy laughed as she looked at you with furrowed brows.

“I’m not sure,” you shrugged. “I guess they just aren’t as popular where I’m from.”

“They should be,” she grinned. “You know, I actually got in trouble at school for having them. That was my last day of school there, it was a dreadful place from the start.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, it didn’t sound in character for Amy to get into trouble for something so foolish. Then again, you didn’t know her at that age. Her aunt certainly seemed to think she had drastically changed though. And if you looked close you could see a more “rebellious” side of Amy. For the most part she tried her best to be proper, still allowing herself to relax though but doing so less and less it seemed.

“Why would you even get in trouble for simply having them with you?” You connected your arm with her’s as you walked through a garden. 

“Well, we would trade them and the teacher decided to put an end to it, it did nothing though. I was in debt so my sister gave me money and I was able to buy enough to repay people.” She sheepishly said, “I brought a whole bundle to school but I was too obvious with them.”

“You’re trying to tell me that you, Amy March, actually broke rules and got into trouble at school?”

“I’m not trying, I am telling you,” she laughed. “It wasn’t worth the cost though. I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Ah, there we go. That sounds more like you,” you grinned and leaned against her arm.

She smiled, shaking her head at your response. Then she realized, she had grown quite a bit in what seemed like no time at all. Or, at least, she had matured plenty. It was weird to actually consider how much had changed. It made her wonder, had you changed from childhood or were you always so outspoken?

“What about you?” She glanced over, “Tell me a story from your childhood?”

You paused to think, deciding on what story you should tell her. When you thought about it most of the stories seemed to be about the same. While Amy seemed to be more outgoing in school and through childhood, you seemed more reserved. Now, though, your personalities seemed to, in small ways, flip and become the opposite of what they were.

“I didn’t talk to many kids at school,” you began, “I had one close friend, who I haven’t talked to since then. I didn’t have the same interests as the other students seemed to have, didn’t hurt me any though.”

“Well, you do seem to have found a fairly large and worthy friend group now.” Amy locked arms with you.

“I wouldn’t say large, but I thoroughly enjoy their company. I’ve found more people to relate to in my adulthood than I ever did through school.” You raised your brows, “Now, that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy at least parts of my childhood.”

“Oh?” She questioned, “Would you share more, then?”

You smiled at her, nodding gently before telling her about another bit of your childhood. Amy listened closely, nodding every once and awhile to assure you that you had her attention. You didn’t talk about your past much, and she was always curious to learn more about you.

For hours you walked together, eventually stopping to sit on a bench by a pond. Amy was still asking you questions about yourself and would occasionally share some stories of her own. While you had been doing this for days now, talking hours on end with one another, neither of you were growing tired of it. If anything, you both couldn’t wait for the next time you would get to chat. 

Recently you were finding yourselves at a lack of time spent together. Amy was talking to a man, one that was sure to propose to her soon. He could offer her money, a well enough life, just material things that Amy recalled dreaming of having when she was younger. But, she didn’t find herself too interested in him. While he was easy enough to get along with, it wasn’t exactly all she was looking for in a relationship. Then again, that wasn’t really the point of marrying him, as Aunt March would remind her.

“Won’t we talk tomorrow?” You asked, already knowing her answer.

“You know I’ll do everything I can to make the time.” She smiled sadly, “I have plans with Mr. Vaughn tomorrow.”

You could feel your heart clenching, a pain you were growing used to. Fred Vaughn, of course. Never would you dare to say anything against him, he wasn’t a bad man and you knew Amy was only doing what she must. Still, it would be a lie to say it didn’t sting a bit when she had to leave you for him. Maybe the fact that he was a good man only made it worse too. There was no real reason to have anything against, that’s what all of your friends had said.

“Don’t worry yourself too much over it,” you smiled, “we always find the time eventually. Mr. Vaughn makes good company as well, I think you’ll find yourself losing track of time with him.”

“Hmm, I disagree.” She continued walking slowly, “While Fred is good company, my mind doesn’t seem to stay focused on him even if it’s only the two of us. He is a very nice man, but…”

Amy wasn’t really sure what she was about to say. It was all true, she did find Fred to be a kind man and good company, but there was still something that Amy didn’t quite mind about having to spend time with him. She figured at first it was just the idea of actually becoming a married woman, losing all that was hers really. And, yes, that was still a part of it but there was more that she couldn’t place. Or, well… she didn’t want to think about it.

“What is it?” You reached for her hand, gently pulling her to a stop.

She didn’t turn to face you, she wasn’t sure that she could. There were too many thoughts to gather, too many words to say. Where to begin? And where would it end? 

“Sometimes I just wonder if I actually like Fred or if I just like the convenience of him,” she admitted. “Like I said, he is a very nice man but I don’t know that I can see him in the way Aunt March wants me to.”

“What do you mean?” You already knew, and you knew there would come a time when this would happen, when you might lose her.

“We’re expecting him to propose.” She looked at you, “And Aunt March expects me to say yes.”

You tilted your head, “Will you?”

Amy gently pulled her hand from your grip, looking to the ground. She didn’t know her answer to that. She didn’t want to say yes, not really. It was giving her life away, but at the same time it was a promise of a, at the very least, decent marriage. Fred made good company, but he wasn’t who Amy pictured spending her life with.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Your tone was a bit sour, you were hurt by the idea that she may say yes.

“I just don’t know.” She took a deep breath, “I don’t know that marrying him is what I want to do but I need it’s… It is just what I need to do.”

“What you ‘need’ to do?” you scoffed. “Amy, if you don’t want to be with him then it isn’t what you ‘need’ to do.”

“It is though. For my family, for my future. And if I ever wish to have children it would be good support for them.” She took a step away from you, looking over the horizon. “I may not think it wise to marry him today but I can’t think about just today, y/n.”

You weren’t sure why there was this anger growing in you, if it even was anger. You supposed it was because, as you had thought before, you didn’t want to lose her. Marrying Fred Vaughn would mean she would have to go. She would lose everything that made her life her own, now and in her future. To you, it didn’t seem worth the cost. Amy seemed so happy where she was. 

“Life isn’t just about money, Amy. It’s about happiness, what brings you joy. And a life with Fred Vaughn? What else can he offer but money?” You moved in front of her, a pleading look in your eyes.

“Stability. Help for Beth. A promise that I have at least some sort of good future.” 

“You keep saying that, “good future”. What do you mean by that? What is a good future to you?” Part of you knew you were likely overstepping but you were so frustrated, and you truly didn’t want Amy doing something she didn’t want to do.

“I mean,” she paused to think for a moment. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation with you, why do you even care so much?” 

Another stinging went through you. How could she ask that? Wasn’t it clear how much she meant to you?

“I don’t know,” you snapped.

Amy was taken aback, that wasn’t what she thought you’d say. She was expecting a list of reasons, a speech about how marrying Vaughn was the wrong choice. She thought you’d be ready to fight back. It wasn’t that she wanted to fight, she wasn’t even sure how it built up to where it was. You were both just becoming more and more defensive. 

You both stood in silence for a few moments, taking in all of your new thoughts and uprising feelings. You knew it wasn’t so simple for her to just decide not to marry Vaughn. Amy had a lot to consider on the matter, too much for your or her liking. There was just this piece of you that wanted to be selfish though, to hold Amy close by your side and keep her for yourself. But you… you had nothing of “value” to your name. No money, no land, no name to pass along. No name to pass along. That was, you couldn’t marry. It was an entirely different topic on its own.

Two women marrying? It wasn’t something people would even talk of, let alone something that could happen in the time. Even being together, in any form, was frowned on by most. 

This was likely, whether she realized it or not, Amy was pushing back the idea of having even the slightest feelings for you. Her family wouldn’t care, at least her sisters and parents wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure what Aunt March would think, though she didn’t know what that mattered to her either. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about what all of those around her would think, it was an overwhelming thing for her. Amy saw herself as a people pleaser, though when she was younger it may have not always seemed that way. 

Nothing about it was easy. 

“I don’t have the luxury of being so carefree,” she began. “I know, too, that it isn’t always a luxury for you. I recognize your past was complicated but…” she took a breath in, “that doesn’t make mine any less so either.”

“I know,” you whispered, “I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to attack you like that.”

She nodded meekly, unsure of where to go from here. Now was the perfect opportunity to talk through everything running wild in her head, she wondered if you could offer some answers. Was it worth the risk of her potentially becoming so vulnerable? She would find out.

“Do you remember the first day you came in to model for my class?” Amy smiled at the memory, and out of relief for a change in subject.

“Of course,” you chuckled awkwardly. “You seemed so nervous, more than many of the others.”

Her cheeks tinted red. As she ducked to hide it she let out a soft titter, “I was. The class was so intimidating in the start on its own, and then you walked in.”

You frowned a bit, worried the story might turn negative given your previous conversation. Amy noticed, being quick to reassure you with a gentle smile and her hand landing on your own. 

“You walked in, laughing, letting your scarf flow behind you. Your overcoat was the complete opposite from your outfit, I remember scolding a few people for being quick to judge you on such a trivial thing. Your hair was wild, like now,” she smiled as she brushed a tuft of your hair behind your ear. 

You were blushing now. “So we’re talking about how messy I appear?” you joked.

Her brows furrowed, “Not at all. I mean all of that to say… I couldn’t believe how effortlessly beautiful you were when you walked in.”

Both of you could feel your hearts pattering against your chests. For you, you thought you might be over analyzing again, if you ever had in the start that was. For Amy, she was shocked she actually worked herself up to say that. While it was simple enough, and no doubt something one could say to a friend, it was coming out in this brand new context. 

“When you came up to me after class, and you complimented my work.” She laughed, “I was at a complete loss for words. I remember being so nervous when you came up to me, I didn’t know what to say but you were so sweet. You asked me some questions, and I did my best to answer while trying to hide how… hypnotized I was. I kept thinking to myself that you would notice, that I would scare you away when you did.”

You weren’t sure what to say, you still couldn’t quite tell where the conversation was going, you were avoiding saying something you may later wish you kept private. There was also still this fear that you could be interpreting it wrong, though as she went on it seemed less and less likely that that was the case.

“I don’t want to marry Fred Vaughn,” Amy frowned and faced away. 

Her fingers were lightly tracing circles over the back of your hand, something she often found herself doing to her own hands when nervous. She didn’t exactly expect any response from you, but the silence was eating away at her as each second passed without you speaking up. Where to begin?

“So don’t.” You held her hand still between both of yours. 

It wasn’t so hostile this time, you were calm. Your tone sounded to be more suggesting rather than demanding. Amy was more willing to hear, both of you were. 

“Fred is a lovely man, perfect company… but if that isn’t who you want to marry, don’t.” You released her hand, “Status fails to matter when you find yourself at a lack of joy.”

“I’ve heard that a few times from my mother.” You often reminded Amy of home. “Meg too, and it seems to have proven itself to be true in her case. They haven’t much, but they do seem so happy with each other.”

What Amy was trying to say was so much more than what she was getting out. She hoped you might expand, understanding you were likely nervous too. A few more moments of silence seemed to last for hours, though it was more like a minute. Talking about it was hard, not as hard as she had initially believed but it was still difficult. 

“What if-- just, what if I don’t want to marry Fred because...because I don’t want to lose you?” Maybe it would be easier to be more straightforward. 

“Lose me? Amy, you could never,” you moved closer to her.

“No, I know. I know that we will always have our friendship, our memories and so on. But, what if I’m afraid of losing all of it? Our long walks, never ending talks. What if you understand me better than anyone… and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose the feeling of holding you close,” her fingers intertwined with yours. “I don’t want the butterflies in my stomach when you greet me again to leave me. I don’t want to give up our spontaneous picnics or races. I want to hold it all close to me, I want to keep you close to my heart.”

“Amy,” you couldn’t help but smile, “I mean, what about everything you had said earlier?”

“Those words were spoken out of fear, y/n. I… I’ve been afraid to say any of this to you. I thought you might run the other way, and I was terrified of what would be said had anyone found out but… I don’t care. Someone will always have something to say about me, right?”

You were thrilled to hear all of this, but at the same time there was a bit of conflict. Amy didn’t tend to be so spontaneous, you wanted to be sure she meant everything she was saying before letting yourself react too much. It didn’t feel real, how could it? 

She talked about the day you met so lovingly, and she seemed so smitten when describing you that day. It was almost like sitting back, listening as she talked about someone you had never met. It just seemed like true admiration so it was hard for you to imagine she was talking about you, not some stranger. 

“I’ve wanted to say something similar to you for some time,” you finally admitted. “I thought it was a lost hope, seeing how we all thought you’d be marrying Vaughn.”

“Ugh, enough about Vaughn, don’t you think?” She groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically with a grin on her lips.

“Absolutely,” you smiled and joked, “who knew I’d be stealing you away from him.”

“I did, the day I met you.” 

You laughed as you both continued your walk. It was getting late, neither of you had minded. You spent hours more talking, about things you had been burying for too long and about how things would be changing. It was getting easier to talk about, and you’d catch yourselves tossing in random jokes from time to time to keep the atmosphere cool. 

Aunt March wouldn’t be happy to hear the news, Amy didn’t care any longer though. Really, it was the last thing on her mind then. She was happy to just be walking with you.

[adamsvanrhijn]

have we ever talked about thomas' family's class background? like a skilled family trade???? a shop???? this is not a family in the slums

oh you’ve come across one of my favorite things that only very rarely got addressed in the actual show!

i’m... confident that he grew up upper working class and was not raised with expectations of going into service. 

my guess would be they were right at the line, like... too poor to have servants, moneyed enough the children don’t have to leave school at age ten. (male children of skilled artisans and small merchants would have been expected to stay until but not later than age 14; i think that tracks with what we see of thomas, especially taking deleted scenes & script moments into account.) 

not only do we know what thomas’s family business is, we also know that he’s clearly been trained in it, and is good at it, which means he must have spent some time being brought up in it; you do not magically get good at something just because your dad knows how or the world would be a whole lot better adjusted than it is

like, he was taught! he was taught how to work w clocks!! and he was also taught how to shoot apparently which i will never shut up about for as long as i live!!!

lol it just seems to me like a Reasonable Assumption that thomas is in service because he has to be, not because he wants to be. boyo had a poor relationship with his father and the first family relation that comes to mind when he needs help lives in fucking india. baxter is the friend of his sister whom he never brings up. he is somehow simultaneously Too Good To Be In Service and absolutely terrified out of his mind to leave. 

and i don’t think the He’s A Second Son concept holds much water for him being in service for many reasons although like, it’s fine, but i think the Real Answer is much more straightforward & Typical lol. plenty of businesses around with “and Sons” at the end of it. if you can’t afford that you try to get your spare a job in another shop or related field, you don’t send him off to be a hallboy.

there was a pretty wide range of working class at this time (still is) but like, he did not come from manual labour like mining or farming, and that already gives him a very different background from most of his peers in the service industry especially in this part of england... for them, going into service was a step up, for him it would have been a step down

i’m sure i’m preaching to the choir here but yeah he is not your typical run of the mill 1900s Boy Going Into Service

i think if the intention was, say, Lower Middle Or Upper Working Class Financial Fall From Grace, which is historically plausible bc clockmaking was a (at this point [1900s-1910s] still slowly) dying art, it would have come up, instead we get a bunch of anvil size hints that he’s a child abuse victim who can’t go back home

[nomstellations]

what’s your favorite trope in vore? write it ♥︎

Anon bless your soul bc I got to write something very self indulgent that only appeals to me, probably. This might be a blend of more than one favorite trope, but hey! I loved writing this! It’s pretty long, so apologies to you guys for that ; ; I love dialogue!

Inkopolis was a bustling hub of culture and activity, filled to the brim with seafolk of all kinds. Nestled in the corner of the plaza was a cafe known as the Coral Reef, which was notably quieter than the area around it. Inside it seemed as though things were slow, with only one cashier behind the counter and a handful of inklings enjoying their snacks. Artemis, the colossal inkling behind the counter, is staring off into space with a rather dreamy expression on his face. Truth be told he was waiting on a certain someone he adored to come in today, and the gentle chime of the door being opened got his attention. In strolled an ink stained inkling, one he knew very well and it caused him to grin. “Well, if it isn’t the one and only~ You look like you’ve been in a fight or two.” The small bobtail squid strides up to the counter, sighing as she tries to wipe ink off herself. “Ugh, hey Artie...ranked was a struggle today. What’s with the look, did you get a raise or something?” He shook his head and stood up to his full height, reaching under the counter and handing her a towel to dry herself off with. “No no Ace, I was just thinking about some things. Thanks for bringing me back to reality, as you tend to do berry blue~” Ace takes the towel and wipes her face, hiding the small blush Art’s baritone voice brought her. He was always a big flirt, but he always laid it on a bit thicker with her. She figured it was just how he was, but she couldn’t help but get blue in the face when he directed them at her. Setting down the towel, she yawns and stares up at the menu. “So, whatcha got today? I’m starved after all that action!” “Well~” He hummed, gesturing to the display case full of treats. “I just finished setting out some of our house specials and a few fruit cheesecakes! I’ve been working on a little secret that may be on the menu as well, buuuut it could use some taste testing to assure its quality!” Ace’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, interested in the new development. “A secret, huh? Mind telling me, your best customer??” She smiled at him, and one to match it slowly grew on Art’s face.

If he can pull this off...he’ll have her right where he wants her.

“Well...it wouldn’t be a secret if I said it during business hours, but you are my best~” He leaned down to whisper it into the much smaller squid’s ear, taking note that she smells deliciously sweet as always. “Red Velvet Cake~ How’s about you come try it for me? You’ve got good taste!” Literally. Or, so he hoped. Ace visibly perked up, that was her favorite! And Artemis made the best cakes, she almost immediately jumped on the offer but a realization gave her pause. That back room...she’s seen a few inklings go back there with him, but only he ever stepped back out. She was suspicious, but the allure of her favorite dessert was a hard one to resist...going back for just one slice shouldn’t hurt. “Alright, you got me...I’ll just have a slice, I wanna get back to turf!” Artemis can hardly contain his delight, he’s been waiting so long for this day! “Ah, so the blue beauty finally joins me for a tasting session...I must say, I’m honored~” He opens the little door that separates the two of them, beckoning for her to come back with him. “Layin’ it on kinda thick there, Artie.” She grumbles as she follows his lead, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks. He opens the door to the back for her with a wide smile, the light glinting a bit off of his fangs. Curiously and a bit hesitantly, she peers into the room and is met with the sweet scent of things baking. There’s a tray of muffins cooling on the table, along with a covered pan. Is that it? As if he was reading her mind, the orange-hued inkling stepped forward and pulled the cover off, revealing the red dusted cake to her with a mock bow. “Ta-daaa~ A lovely cake for the lovely little lady.”  Ace gasps in delight, moving over to get a closer look. “Oh, Artie...that looks so good! Cut me a slice please!” He’s way ahead of her, slicing through the moist cake as she says this and cutting her a sizable piece. “Your wish is my command, sweetness~ Enjoy!” Ace smiles at him and wastes no time digging into the moist cake, humming in delight at its sweet flavor. It doesn’t take long for her to finish it, and she pushes the plate away with a happy sigh. “That was a perfect pre-game snack, thank you so much! This’ll be a big hit with the customers, I guarantee it!”  “Thank you for your input, but is it good enough for seconds?” He nudges another slice onto her plate as he says this, it’s slightly bigger than the last. “Well, I don’t want to get sick fighting...after this I’m going to get going, okay?” The cake was eaten so as not to disappoint her large friend, and when she was finished she stood up and prepared to leave, much to Artemis’ dismay. “You’re leaving so soon? Ace my dear, I haven’t seen you all day...why don’t we talk about how you are over a third slice of cake?” Ace stared at him a bit suspiciously, why did he want her to eat so much of it? “Third…? That’s a lot of cake and I’m just one squid, I want to stay in fighting shape!”“Oh darling, every shape of yours is flattering and ready for a fight~ I baked this with love knowing you’d see me today...won’t you eat my gift to you?” She blushed, her tentacles curling up a bit as he mixes a few flirts into his words. “It’s a lot, can’t I just take it home?” Artemis’ stomach growls impatiently, he better move fast...charming her is fun and all, but his cravings are growing stronger by the moment. “I would much rather see those cute cheeks puffed out as you finish it off...come on, it’s taking you on! The great Ace could finish off a cake just as easily as she can wipe a team!” Ace nervously eyes the cake, it was smaller than what he’d normally bake as it was for tasting purposes, but it was still a lot for her. However, it’s at his insistence, and she didn’t want to waste something he made specifically for her… “Alright, fine. You owe me if I can finish this off!” “Oh not to worry, you’ll definitely be rewarded~” He smiles, trying to keep his exterior calm as he watches his plan work beautifully. Ace drills through the cake despite her previous remarks, leaving her with a visibly stuffed stomach that Artemis eyes hungrily. He didn’t want to abuse her competitive spirit but it was worth it, it’s about time for him to eat.... The sound of a chair scraping against the floor pulled the colossal squid from his hungry thoughts, and he watches in surprise as Ace stands up to leave. “Ugh, definitely overate...I think I’m just going to head home, sorry Art.” No, she can’t leave now! He can’t, he won’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers now that he’s so close! As she makes her way to the door he quickly cuts her off, leaning against it and smiling nervously. “W-wait Ace, you can’t go quite yet…" She stares up at him, his immense size over her starting to intimidate her alongside his weird behavior. "A-art, why can't I leave…?" The look in his eyes is ravenous, and as he leans down closer to her she can hear the loud and impatient growls of his stomach. "Ace...I've wanted this for the longest time now, I'm sorry…" He opens his mouth wide, his orange, slimy tongue dragging itself up the side of her face, making it clear exactly where she'll be going. Rattled, Ace digs her hands into his large, soft belly, hoping to get him away from her. “A-ARTEMIS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He’s undeterred, making a shaky and pleased hum as she’s sweeter than he could have possibly imagined. “I’m sorry, I just can’t hold myself back any longer...you’ll be fine, I can promise you that much.” No longer listening to her protests he clamps his mouth down over her head, sealing her in humid darkness and continuing his tasting. Though now he’s mostly driven by hunger he gently strokes her back, trying to relax her so he doesn’t accidentally hurt her. She squirms and struggles as much as she can, tapping into her battle strength even, but it’s moot as Art pulls her further into his mouth and begins swallowing. Her small size relative to him makes eating her simple, with a powerful gulp already pulling her head and chest into his throat and her belly into his maw. He takes his time here, licking all over it and savoring her flavor and its fullness, before standing up and tilting his head back to let gravity do the work for him. Ace’s struggles gave out at this point, and she let peristalsis and the occasional light glurp from the colossal inkling pull her ever deeper to the loud groaning that was his stomach. When she was finally entirely sealed in his throat he sighed, sitting down in a chair and gently rubbing his stomach as she slipped inside it. She curls up without another word, and there’s a beat of silence before Artemis speaks again. “Ace...I’m truly sorry for deceiving you like this, but...I love you. I have for so long, and I wanted you as close to me as possible...you’re safe in there, I would never bring any harm to you. I just...wanted you in my embrace.” She lays still in him, processing his words. All those flirts...he meant them? She wondered if he was telling the truth, and judging by his stomach’s harmless churning and quiet, gentle burbling, he must have meant it. She had always liked him, but didn’t quite know what to say. As if he read her thoughts, he spoke again. “I understand that it’s overwhelming...when I let you out, we can talk more. I just want to hold you for a while, if that’s fine…” She subtly shifts, which is about the best answer she can give. He sighs, settling in to give her a massage. Truth be told, it wasn’t as bad as she thought in here….will he be doing this more if they got together?

She wouldn’t mind the idea of cuddling like this, if so.

[dancinginthesliverglow]

Assistant, Scholar, Son

By @art-in-the-sunlight for @alicecasch in the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds & Michelle Jones, Tony Stark & James Rhodes, Tony Stark & Happy Hogan

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan, Jim Mortia, Roger Harrington, Mr. Delmar

Summary: “Historical/Old Fashioned AU” and “Tony is Peter’s teacher.” I’d really love to see small moments where Tony realizes that he loves Peter (like that “oh. Oh” moment in fics, but make it platonic). Also, could you include a scene where they’re both looking at the stars/at a sunset/sunrise? (Just, give me pretty skies and I’ll squeal happily for hours basically). Also I love when MJ and Ned have to interact with Tony bc Peter’s being a dumbass and they’re concerned friends. 

Its the 1900s. Ned gets sick, and in order to help pay the doctor fees, Peter looks for a job. He comes across James Rhodes, who believes his best friend Tony Stark is in need of an assistant. But does he really need an assistant? Or something more?

…okay so I swear I intended this to be around 2000-3000 words. I don’t know how it ended up at 5700 words with a few time gaps. I had a lot of fun planning and writing this out, and I hope you enjoy it :)

ao3 link

Peter paced worriedly outside of the orphanage boy’s bedrooms. He shared a worried glance with MJ, who was sitting with her head in her hands nearby.

“He’s never stayed this long, MJ.” Peter muttered under his breath, clearly stressed. “What- Do you think-”

“I don’t know Peter.” MJ responded. She raised her head out of her hands and looked at Peter. 

“I-” Peter started, but he was interrupted by the door opening. The orphanage Director, Roger Harrington and Doctor Morita stepped out. 

Doctor Morita was talking to the Director. “He’s still hanging in there, but he’s going to need doses more frequently. I recommend a spoonful daily, before breakfast.” 

Director Harrington nodded solemnly. “Thanks for the help, Doctor.” He handed Doctor Morita a pouch full of coins, and then showed the Doctor out.

Peter and MJ went into the room. In the furthest bed lay their best friend, Ned Leeds. He was fast asleep, presumably from the medicine the Doctor gave him. Peter sat down next to Ned and took his hand. “Ned,”  Peter said, his voice wavering slightly. “You gotta fight this. I know you can do it.” 

MJ replaced the hot, damp cloth on Ned’s forehead with a cool one. “That’s right, loser. Peter would fall apart without you.”

“Hey!” Peter said indignantly. 

MJ leveled Peter with a look. 

Peter sighed, knowing it was true. 

Director Harrington walked back into the room. “Peter, MJ, I know you guys want to stay with Ned but he needs to rest now.”

“How is he?” MJ inquired.

“Doc says he’s going to need daily doses of medicine. We’re barely able to cover the costs of medicine as it is.” The director sat down on the bed next to Ned’s.

“I can get another job?” said Peter. “Mr. Delmar only needs me in the evenings when he’s cleaning and closing up the shop. I could get the other kids, Abe and Jason to help with my chores!” 

“I could help too,” interjected MJ. “Mrs. Daly’s been asking if I can stay longer, and work more days in her shop.” 

Director Harrington sighed. “If you can convince Abe and Jason to cover your chores, go ahead.” He stood up. “You two need to take care of yourselves, no overworking alright? You’re no help to Ned if you get sick.” Director Harrington pulled them in for a side hug. “It’ll be alright, kiddos. Ned will recover. Have some faith, alright?”

MJ and Peter nodded, and held onto each other tightly. Ned had to get better. He would. 

~ ~ ~

The next day, Peter was at the market looking for a job. He asked the local farmers, fishermen, barbers, even blacksmiths and butchers, but they all turned him away due to inexperience or because he wasn’t able to commit to a full time job. (Mr. Delmar was kind to Peter, almost like an uncle, and he let Peter take home half the shop’s tips to take care of Ned. Peter wasn’t going to give it up).

After getting rejected by the bookmaker (he had taken one look at Peter’s worn down clothing and turned away) Peter began to slowly walk out. He rarely got the opportunity to read anymore and he figured a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Peter wandered into the science section, and quietly pulled The Scientific Revolution: Wave Theory of Light by Stark, Anthony off the shelf. 

It was then he overheard two men across the book maker’s shop talking. 

“And it’s not like Stark at all to send us on a wild goose chase?” Huffed the first man, clearly annoyed. 

“Just keep looking. Tones said the book was here.” said the second man. He dressed in an army uniform, and had several medals hanging on his jacket. 

“What was the name of the book?”

The army man pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall.” 

Peter looked up from this book, at the shelf. The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall sat right in front of him.

Peter picked up the book and made his way over to the men. “Uh, excuse me sir? I couldn’t help overhearing that you were looking for this book?”

The army man took the book and read the spine. “The Revolution in Science, by Rupert A. Hall. Huh, thanks kiddo.” He handed the book to the second man, who went to pay for it, before studying Peter. “What’s your name, son? How well can you read?”

“I’m Peter. I can read fairly well and I can get through most books, sir”

“That’s impressive, Peter. Who taught you?”

“My parents, Ben and Mary Parker, taught me the basics, sir. They were scientists.”

“The Parkers.” The army man turned to the second man, who had just returned, book in hand. “Didn’t Tones work with them a few times?” 

The second man shrugged. 

“I heard they died a few years ago.” The army man said, not unkindly. He waited to see Peter nod before continuing. “I’m sorry for your loss. You must be looking for work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come with me. My friend needs an assistant. I can’t promise anything but an opportunity. You’ll have to work hard, but if you take after your parents, you should be fine.”

“I… wow thank you sir!” Peter put his book The Scientific Revolution: Wave Theory of Light back on the shelf followed the army man to a carriage waiting outside the shop.

“It’s Colonel Rhodes.” The Colonel gestured to the second man who was prepping the horses to travel. “That’s Happy. He’s Tones’ carriage driver.” 

“He doesn’t seem very happy, for someone named Happy.” Peter mused. Colonel Rhodes snorted in amusement, before climbing into the carriage with Peter. 

~ ~ ~

Half an hour later, Peter was following Colonel Rhodes into the largest mansion - if it could even be called that - he had seen in his entire life. Peter struggled not to gape as they walked into the hall. The ceiling was twice as high as a normal house, and that was just the first floor. Fancy paintings and sculpture tastefully lined the walls. Peter was almost scared of touching anything, lest it break.

“Rhodeybear! You’re back!” Peter looked forward and saw a man quickly descend from the grand staircase towards them. 

“Wait- did you mean Mr. Stark as in The physicist Stark? The Mr. Stark who is single handedly revolutionizing the field of physics and mathematics? That Mr. Stark?” Peter hissed worriedly under his voice. 

Colonel Rhodes put a hand on Peter’s shoulder to reassure him. “Hey Tones! How have you been doing?”

Mr. Stark looked sad for a moment. “Uh, nevermind about that.” He spotted Peter. “Who is this? He isn’t mine, is he?” Tony joked, studying Peter. Peter felt as if he was under a microscope. He was all too aware of the large gap in social status. Peter Parker, the orphan, and Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the entire known world.

Colonel Rhodes clapped Peter on the back. “I hope not. This is Parkers’ kid, Peter. I was thinking, since Pepper returned to her brother’s you could use an assistant.”

“And you brought me a child? No, no, nope. Rhodey, you know I don’t do kids.” Mr. Stark turned away and headed down the hallway, to the kitchen. 

Colonel Rhodes followed him, pulling Peter. “Tony, you know I leave for the army tomorrow. You’re going to need someone around.”

“I have Happy.”

“Happy’s only here on weekends, and an hour on weekdays.”

Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes stared down at each other across a table. Peter uncomfortably shifted on his feet, wishing he was anywhere else but there.

After almost a minute, Mr. Stark looked away. “Fine, only for you, Rhodeybear.” 

“Thank you, Tony. I think you guys might get along. He was reading your book when I found him.”

“Oh?” Mr. Stark turned towards Peter, curious. “What did you think?”

“Um, I didn’t understand all of it - but the parts that I did I thought it was really interesting! I tried replicating some of the experiments, the one where you observe the color spectrum in the shadow of a slit of paper with my friends but we weren’t able to get the right measurements.”

“What materials were you using?”

“Um, just some paper from my Director at the orphanage? We used a knife to make the slit, and an open window for the light source.”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “You need more sophisticated tools. The slit should be less than a tenth of a millimeter, and most knives are about 3 to 6 millimeters wide.”

Peter looked thoughtful. “Would a needle work? The tip is much smaller than a knife, but I’m not sure if it’s less than a tenth of a millimeter.”

“It’s much closer, and I suppose you might be able to get the right size.” Tony mused. You’d have to consider the type of paper and thickness as well…”

Beside Peter, Colonel Rhodes gave Mr. Stark a triumphant smile. “See? I knew it would work out.” He turned to Peter. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. I’m available in the morning and afternoon from Mondays to Saturdays, and I’m free all day on Sunday.”

“Sounds good.” replied Mr. Stark. He stepped forward, and shook Peter’s hand. “I look forward to working with you, Peter Parker.”

“Me too, Mr. Stark.”

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Happy arrived in the carriage at the orphanage to pick up Peter. Peter quickly got in the carriage, ignoring the amazed and suspicious glances of the other orphanage kids. In reality, the ride wasn’t too long, but the lack of conversation and Peter’s nerves make the ride seem hours long. Colonel Rhodes wasn’t too clear about Peter’s job description the day before. Peter knew he’s going to help Mr. Stark out with his work, but what exactly that entails, Peter has no idea. 

Eventually the carriage pulled to a stop outside Mr. Stark’s mansion. Peter climbed out, thanked Happy for the ride, before walking up to the door and knocking. On the first knock, the door swung open. Peter leaned in. “Uh, hello? Mr. Stark?”

Presumably Mr. Stark called out a reply, but it’s muffled. Peter cautiously entered, wiped his shoes and made his way over to where the voice came from. He ends up in the kitchen, and spots Tony putting away a half empty bottle of alcohol. 

Hearing Peter come in, Tony glanced behind. “Hey kiddo.”

“Hello Mr. Stark.” 

“Rhodey just left for the army yesterday, along with a good portion of my bourbon. I suppose I’ll have to replenish my stash.” Mr. Stark turned around, and studied Peter. “You’re in dire need of a wardrobe upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom, 100 point restoration. I’ll have Happy call someone for this Sunday.”

Mr. Stark spun on his heel and left the kitchen, waving for Peter to follow him. “When did your interest in science start?”

“When I was younger, before my parents passed, they used to show me their blueprints and sketches. Part of their research was working on steam trains and railways. They used to dream about travelling from one side of the country to the hour in a matter of hours. I know it was purely theoretical, and we’re decades or even centuries off from it actually happening but the idea of travelling at that speed is fascinating!” 

Mr. Stark stopped in front of a closed door. He placed a hand on the door knob and then turned to Peter. “It may not be as far away as you think.” said Mr. Stark with a smile, before opening the door. 

“Woah…” Peter slowly entered the room, completely in awe. The walls were covered in blueprints, sketches and calculations. Peter recognized the sketches on the wall on the left from Mr. Stark’s book on Wave theory of light. The far wall had various sketches of an engine, from multiple angles. In the center was the steam train sketch that his parents had shown him. 

Tony walked over to the far wall, and took one of the sketches off the wall. “Several years ago, I worked on his version of the steam train with your parents.” He handed Peter the sketch.

“This-this is the same one they showed me. How-” Peter traces his parents signatures on the bottom right.

“I only worked on one steam train project with your parents. They had their hearts set on this project. It was like they could already see it, the finished product functioning. Sadly they passed away before we could start any of the actual buildings. Somehow it felt wrong to build it without them.” Mr. Stark gazed at the sketches, with an emotion Peter couldn’t quite pin down. “So I improved their systems, made them more efficient and worked on other projects.”

“Like your book?”

“Yes. Among other things.” Tony turned to face Peter. “How do you feel about following in your parents’ footsteps? I think it’s about time Mary and Richard’s dreams start coming true.”

“I…” tears threatened to fall from Peter’s eyes.

“You don’t have to decide now.”

“No! I’d love to work on the steam engine. I just never imagined in my wildest dreams I would be able too.”

“Well, it is going to be a lot of work. You’re going to need some formal education in physics, chemistry and engineering.”

Peter nodded eagerly. “I can do it!”

Mr. Stark laughed. “Alright, Underoos. Let’s turn you into a proper student. You’re in dire need of supplies. Textbooks, chalkboards, and wardrobe upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom, 100 point restoration. I’ll arrange something with Happy. For now, let’s see where you’re at…” 

Mr. Stark and Peter spent the rest of the day pouring over textbooks together in the workshop. Mr. Stark quizzed Peter on the topics he was familiar with until he had a good idea of where Peter was, academically. Then Mr. Stark started filling in the gaps and teaching him the new material that Peter had missed. Peter lost track of time. It had been far too long since Peter had a mentor, someone who had the same passion for physics and someone who he could bounce theories and questions off. 

Before he knew it, the sun was approaching the horizon, and it was time for Peter to leave for his second job with Mr. Delmar. Tony stood at the door to his mansion, and waved Peter off with a nostalgic, yet content look on his face. 

Peter beamed at him, practically bouncing on his toes. For a strange moment, Peter felt the urge to hug Mr. Stark, the way he would hug MJ or Ned, or even his parents before leaving them. Peter shook off the feeling. Mr. Stark was just his employer… right? Somehow, after the day they had, ‘employer�� didn’t quite fit. Peter gave Mr. Stark one last wave before getting into the carriage with Happy.  

~ ~ ~

When Peter arrived back at the orphanage later that night, Ned was waiting for him near his bunk bed.

“Peter! How did it go? I can’t believe you actually got to work with the Mr. Stark! This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” exclaimed Ned. He was sitting at the corner of the bed next to Peter’s. His eyes were a little red and there was a faint glimmer of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes were focused. It was the best Peter had seen him in a few days.

“It was amazing Ned!” replied Peter with equal enthusiasm. He kicked off his shoes and stood on his bed, bouncing lightly. “He showed me his workshop - you won’t believe it. He has so many projects! He’s done so much more on the Wave Theory of Light! And remember that project that I told you that my parents were working on? The steam train idea? It turns out he was working on it with my parents!”

“Dude that is so amazing! I-” 

Hearing the commotion, Director Harrington walked into the room. “Hey! Kids, it’s night time! Settle down. Peter, get off your bed and go wash up. Ned, you need to get some rest.”  

“But Peter just got back -”

“I wanna talk to Ned -”

Director Harrington held up his hand, and they fell silent. “I know you’re excited to see each other and talk about Peter’s job. Believe me, I know. But the youngest kids are already asleep, and the rest are getting ready for bed.”

Peter looked around, and saw the younger kids already curled up under their blankets. Reluctantly they nodded, and Director Harrington left. 

Peter got down from his bed, as Ned got up. They shared a warm hug, and Peter gently rested his head on the side of Ned’s. He could feel Ned’s heartbeat faintly, and something in him, a weight that had been following him around marginally relaxed. Ned was okay. Everything was going to be okay. 

“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay? Mr. Stark’s really amazing.” Peter whispered to Ned as he pulled away. 

“I can’t wait! Good night Peter.” Ned whispered back. 

“Good night Ned.”

Ned walked back to his bunk, and Peter quietly grabbed his pajamas and tiptoed out of the room to clean up before sleep. 

~ ~ ~

The rest of the week passed similarly. Peter wakes up before sunrise, quickly eats and does as many of his chores around the orphanage as he can before Happy arrives. Then, he goes to study with Mr. Stark and work on the steam train plans for the rest of the day. Just before supper, Peter goes to Mr. Delmar’s to help serve food and clean up. Afterward, he walks back to the orphanage in the night, manages to tell MJ and Ned a few quiet, exhausted yet ecstatic words about his time with Mr. Stark before Director Harrington sends them to bed. Every night, Peter falls asleep before his head hits the pillow.

~ ~ ~

On Sunday, Peter woke up at the crack of dawn. He quickly ate, did his morning chores, waved MJ off as usual (with the promise of telling her everything when he got back) and jumped into the carriage with Happy. 

Unlike usual, when Peter reached the mansion, Mr. Stark was impatiently waiting at the door. 

Peter jumped out of the carriage, excitement shining on his face. “Good morning Mr. Stark! I can’t wait to get started again!” 

“Uh uh. Not in those clothes, you’re not. You got a pass these past few days, but today if you’re going to be a scholar, you need to look the part and have the right materials, Underoos.”

Peter stopped in his tracks. “Um…”

Without missing a beat, Mr. Stark draped an arm over Peter’s shoulders and directed him back into the carriage. “We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping?” echoed Peter, a little bewildered. 

~ ~ ~

Half an hour later, Mr. Stark, Peter and Happy were standing in a tailor’s shop. The tailor took a few measurements, and then handed Peter a dress shirt and pants, before directing him to a room at the back of the shop “Go try these on. They should be a close fit.” 

Peter looked at the clothes. It wasn’t the same quality suits that Mr. Stark normally wore, but it was far above Peter’s regular clothes.

“Mr. Stark I couldn’t-”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “Uh uh. If you think I’m going to tinker around with my inventions and current research in those, you are mistaken, Underoos. Now try them on, let’s see.” 

Peter walked into the back room and gulped nervously. He could pay for half a month’s worth of medicine with the dress shirt alone. Peter carefully put the dress shirt and pants on. Just as the tailor predicted, the pants and shirt fit nearly perfectly.

Outside, Mr. Stark was arguing, or maybe bantering with Happy, but the moment the door opened they both fell silent. 

Happy huffed, turned to Mr. Stark and said, “I told you, he could’ve been your twin.” Mr. Stark muttered something back to Happy, who then left. 

Mr. Stark turned to Peter before nodding. “Much better.”

“Um, is this really okay?” Peter looked up at Tony hesitantly. “I mean…”

Mr. Stark waved the question away. “I told you yesterday, Underoos. 100 point restoration. We’ll make a scholar of you yet.” Mr. Stark turned to the tailor. “We’ll order 3 pairs of dress shirts and pants, in addition to these.” 

“Three pairs?!” Peter’s incredulous tone echoed around the shop.

Mr. Stark turned around, heading after Happy. “Come on, kiddo. We have a couple more stops.” 

Peter dutifully followed Mr. Stark out, into another shop.

~ ~ ~

By the end of the morning, Peter had gotten a pair of new clothes, a new pencil case, box of pencils, a box of chalk, a few slates and a school bag. They were about to leave, when a salesman stepped in front of Mr. Stark.

“Hello good sir! Might I interest you and your son in some fashionable hats?” 

“S-son?” Peter squeaked, turning red. Distantly, he heard Mr. Stark chuckle in amusement.

The salesman picked a curved, pencil grey hat and placed it on Peter’s head. It fell down, covering his eyes. 

“Hmm, perhaps something smaller.” In a flash, the salesman took the hat off Peter’s head, and grabbed a slightly smaller black hat with a ribbon around it. 

Peter ducked out of the way before the salesman could put it on his head. “I-I really don’t think -” Stuttered Peter, clearly flustered by the misinterpretation. 

Suddenly, Peter felt a hand on his back, nudging him forward. Peter’s head snapped to Mr. Stark. “My son and I think that’s a wonderful idea.” said Tony, grinning ear to ear. 

Peter turned beet red. 

“Let’s try the small black newport hat, at the back.” Suggested Mr. Stark.

“A wonderful choice sir!” The salesman handed the hat to Mr. Stark, who gently placed it on Peter’s head. The salesman held up a mirror for Peter to see. 

Peter stared at himself. The newport hat complimented his dress shirt well. He looked… different, but in a good way. Smart, more sophisticated, perhaps. Peter stood up straighter, and turned his head to the side, almost mesmerized. A small bit of his curly brown hair poked out from under his hat. Peter tucked it back in, and looked at Mr. Stark. “I like it.”

Mr. Stark agreed. “It suits you.” He turned to the salesman. “We’ll get it.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Stark and Peter were walking back to the carriage where Happy was waiting with his new newport hat. Peter climbed into the carriage after Mr. Stark, took off his hat and stared at it contemplatively. 

The carriage started moving. Mr. Stark nudged Peter gently with his elbow. “You’re kinda quiet, Underoos. Everything okay?”

Peter nodded. 

“I hope I didn’t bother you with the ‘my son’ comment?” Mr. Stark said it jokingly, but Peter could tell it was a genuine question. 

“No no, it’s - that was fine. It just surprised me.” Peter looked up at Mr. Stark and gave him a smile.

“So what’s up then? If the last day is anything to go by, normally you’d be chatting away.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s just a lot.” He held up the hat and his bag, full of school supplies. “This used to be my life, before my parents… Before the orphanage. It’s just bringing back memories, I guess.” 

The carriage wheel went over a rock, and Mr. Stark grabbed Peter’s shoulder to steady him. For the longest moment, they were silent, before Mr. Stark spoke up. “I get it, you know? I lost my parents too. Granted, I was older and the situation was drastically different…” Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “My mom, she was a pianist. She had this way of playing, that was so graceful, so… warm. We were never good at communicating, except when we were playing on the piano. It was like the music would speak for us, in our special language.”

“After she passed, I couldn’t barely look at the piano. I boarded up the room, and nearly threw the key away. It wasn’t until about three years ago that Pepper, my uh, friend convinced me to open the room. I thought it was a bad idea. I thought all that hurt would come flooding back. And some of it did, but along with it…”

Peter nodded in understanding. “Yea. It’s like you got a small piece of them back.”

“Yea, something like that.”

The carriage came to a stop abruptly, ending the moment. Peter stuck his head out the side, and realized that they’re already back at the mansion. Mr. Stark and Peter climbed out and headed inside. 

“How about some lunch?” suggested Mr. Stark. Peter agrees,  and then turns red when his stomach growls audibly. Mr. Stark laughed not unkindly, ruffled Peter’s hair and then went to the kitchen. Peter followed him, still red, but smiling. 

Mr. Stark and Peter resumed working in the workshop. It’s equally as studious as the day before, except there’s an air of familiarity that wasn’t there before. Just like yesterday, Peter’s attention was consumed by his excitement to learn, and he doesn’t notice the time fly by, until it’s approaching sunset. Mr. Stark asked Peter if he had to leave, but it’s Peter’s day off from Mr. Delmar, so he says no. Mr. Stark turns on a few oil lamps and they continue working into the night.

~ ~ ~

Eventually Mr. Stark straightens up and stretches. There’s a few quiet cracks, at which Peter snorted, before looking outside, noticing that it’s already dark and the stars are out.”

“I should probably get back soon.”

(Tony follows Peter’s line of sight until he’s looking outside at the night sky with Peter. Tony looks back at Peter. His face is peaceful, slightly sleepy, and in the dim lighting Tony can see part of the night sky reflected in Peter’s eyes. He feels a surge of protectiveness, and affection..? Tony shakes the feeling off, and an idea suddenly comes to him.)

Peter followed Mr. Stark upstairs, and watched curiously as he pulled a large cloth off… a telescope. “Woah… can I, Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark arranged the telescope, and fiddled with the knobs for a moment before stepping away and looking at Peter. “Go ahead, kid.”

Peter steps closer to the telescope and peered inside. “Woah…” Peter turned to Mr. Stark. “This is amazing Mr. Stark!” Peter peered back into the telescope, still in awe of the beautiful sight. He felt Mr. Stark lay his arm across Peter’s shoulders. The warmth of his arm was nice in the cold night. 

(Peter stared up at him with complete awe and eagerness. That feeling from earlier comes back, ten fold. It tells him to protect Peter, to keep him safe, warm and happy. It compels Tony to step closer and lay his arm over Peter’s shoulders. He feels Peter lean slightly into the half side hug and -

oh.

Oh.

It’s love. 

He loves Peter. 

Tony loves Peter, as if he were his own son. The revelation rocks his world. When did this happen? Why now? What is he supposed to do?)

Unknown to Mr. Stark’s world shattering revelation, Peter shivered and sniffed in the cold air, before straightening up and fully leaning into Mr. Stark’s side. “‘ts cold.”

“Yea.” Mr. Stark exhaled. “Let’s get you home, Underoos.” 

Peter nodded, and allowed Mr. Stark to lead him back inside and wrap one of his coats around Peter. He called for Happy, who came with the carriage. This time, before Peter gets in the carriage, Mr. Stark wraps him a hug, before entering the carriage with Peter. Sleepy and cold, Peter pulls Mr. Stark’s coat around himself tightly. The last thing he remembers was resting his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder, the sensation of an arm wrapping around him keeping him warm and falling asleep.  

~ ~ ~

When Peter woke up the next day, he felt awful. His head throbbed, this throat felt like sandpaper and he felt like he was freezing. Peter cracked an eye open, and painful bright light sears through his brain. Peter cries out in pain and shuts his eyes.

Hearing Peter, Director Harrington walked over. “Hey Peter, it’s time to get up.” When Peter didn’t move, Director Harrington frowned. (It was uncharacteristic of Peter not to be awake by now). He laid a hand over Peter’s head, and sweared under his breath when he felt Peter’s boiling forehead. 

“What’s wrong with him?” MJ worriedly inquires from behind the Director. He quickly turned around and saw her and Ned.

“He’s sick. I think it’s just because he’s been pushing himself so hard this past week. Honestly, I was expecting this to happen days ago.” Director Harrington stood up. “He’ll be alright. He just needs rest. I’ll send a message to Mr. Stark telling him Peter won’t be able to attend for a few days.”

MJ nods. She knows what she has to do. 

~ ~ ~

After MJ’s shift finished, she made her way to Mr. Stark’s mansion. Steeling her nerves, she firmly knocked on the door and waited. One minute, two minutes… just when MJ thought was wouldn’t get an answer, Mr. Stark opened the door.

He frowned. “Do I know you?”

“I’m here about Peter.”

“Come in.” Mr. Stark stepped out of the way, welcoming MJ inside. “Is he okay?”

MJ looked around the mansion. Part of her admires it; everything looked so elegant. Part of her critiqued it, wondering how it was built, and how the Stark family inherited their fortune. 

“Peter’s sick. He’s been overworking himself, with everything he needs to do at the orphanage, with you and Mr. Delmar.” MJ explains. “He’s been going to sleep really late, and forcing himself to wake up before sunrise, and he’s on his feet pretty much the entire day.”

In a single moment, it looked as if Mr. Stark aged years. The wrinkles in his face stood out, and he looked worried. Extremely worried. MJ knew that Peter was attached to Mr. Stark (what science nerd wouldn’t be), but she didn’t expect that Mr. Stark would reciprocate the sentiment equally. 

Mr. Stark took a moment, but eventually he composed himself. “Thank you for telling me. Are you headed back to the orphanage?”

“Yea.”

“I’ll give you a ride back.” Mr. Stark left to call Happy, completely missing MJ’s surprised expression. 

Mr. Stark comes back a few minutes later, with his coat. “I’ll head back with you. It seems like I need to have a few words with Peter, about responsibility.” 

MJ would’ve been worried, if Mr. Stark hadn’t sounded so… parental. Not for the first time, MJ wondered what exactly had they done, for Peter and Mr. Stark to feel so strongly for the other in such a short time. Instead, she just nodded.

“Why is he overworking himself?”

MJ’s mouth went dry, and she looked away at her feet. So Peter hadn’t told Mr. Stark then. “Our friend, Ned - he’s sick. Like really sick.” She quickly glanced at Mr. Stark. He looked contemplative. “Director Harrington is doing what he can, but the doctor visits and the medicine - it’s really expensive. Peter and I are paying for most of it.”

Although Mr. Stark didn’t say anything, MJ can practically hear him understanding. Peter always puts the needs of his loved ones above himself, and they both know it.

Happy arrived with the carriage in front. They climbed in and headed for the orphanage. 

~ ~ ~

Peter’s awareness came back, and he felt the bed sink down on his left. At the edge of unconsciousness and in pain, Peter whimpers unintelligibly and tries to stick his head under the blanket. 

Suddenly, there was a hand softly brushing through his hair and rubbing at his scalp. His headache began to ease up for the first time, and Peter cracked his eyes open. There was a blurry figure that looked awfully familiar sitting on his bed.

“Hey Underoos. How are you feeling?” Mr. Stark asked softly.

Peter closed his eyes, and tilted his head towards Mr. Stark’s hand, silently asking for him to continue.

Above him, Peter heard Mr. Stark chuckled. “Peter, it’s dinner time. You need to eat.”

With a groan Peter opened his eyes again, this time fully. It takes a moment, but his vision focuses. Mr. Stark helped Peter sit up, and then held out a bowl of soup with a spoon. Peter held his palms flat against the bowl, and let the steam rise against his face, trying to absorb the heat.

“Kiddo, you’re supposed to eat it.” 

Peter grumbled, but picked up the spoon and began slowly eating. 

Mr. Stark waited for Peter to finish half of his soup before speaking up, his tone gentle. “Peter, you were seriously overworking yourself.”

Peter swallowed his soup, and then responded, “Ned needs the money. He’s-”

“- sick, I know. MJ told me.” The surprise must’ve shown on his face because Mr. Stark elaborated. “She came to see me earlier today, to tell me that you were working yourself sick trying to pay for Ned’s medicine.”

Peter opened his mouth to defend his actions, but Mr. Stark interrupted him. “Underoos, why didn’t you tell me?” He chided, gently. “I would’ve helped you.”

“I - really?” Peter looked at Mr. Stark in hope. 

Tony nodded. “Anything, Peter.”

Peter put the soup aside, leaned over and hugged Mr. Stark tightly. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. You have no idea - it means so much to me.”

“Anything, Peter. Although you have to concentrate on getting better, and taking care of yourself. I don’t want to hear that you’re sick and refined to bed for days, geez. I nearly got a heart attack when I received the message this morning.”

Peter laughs weakly. Mr. Stark handed him back the soup, and sat with Peter as he finished it. When Peter’s done, Mr. Stark takes the bowl, and helps Peter crawl back under the covers. Peter rolled onto his side, facing Mr. Stark, and silently asking. 

Above him, Peter heard Mr. Stark huff, in amusement. A moment later he felt Mr. Stark’s hand softly brushes through his hair and rubs at his scalp. Peter falls asleep to the sensation. 

(When he’s sure Peter’s asleep, Tony leans over Peter, presses a kiss to his forehead and whispers “I love you.”)

The End. 

[johnshelbysbabygirll]

Russian Roulette I - JOHN SHELBY X READER

Words: 2361

Warnings: a lot of cursing, drugs, a little smut maybe idk

hello my loves!!

there is another imagine and this one it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever wrote bcs i’m a sucker for drama and angry John

and also for the same reason, there is a part II with smut and i’ll post it soon.

thank you and love you xx

"I can't believe I agreed with this fuckin stupid idea" John muttered again and you rolled your eyes in anger, looking on the window so you don't have to look at him.

"Would you shut the fuck up already, Johnny boy? You are bloody annoying." Arthur speaks loudly from the front seat, doing some lines and being annoyed at Tommy's driving.

He was true, John was a pain in your ass. You are in a car ride with them to the Russians house and it was the most awful car ride you ever had. You can cut the tension with a fucking knife. All of this only because you came with them at the party the Russians are organized tonight. Right, it was Polly's idea because she couldn’t make it, but then you became really excited about it and really wanted to. Thomas was unsure at first, but now he looked really fine with it, knowing it will be just a crazy party. On the other hand, John was a bomb who can explode anytime.

"Yeah, it will be fine." Tommy said and he was in a really good mood; grinning when he got into a hole, the snow almost spilling on Arthur's pants as he cursed his brother.

"Fuck off. All of you." He speaks again and you couldn't help it.

"You fuck off, John. What the fuck are you hiding? Why are you so angry with me being there?"

His glare could burn your skin to bone. Same as yours.

"This will be bloody fun" Arthur muttered to himself as he snorted all the line.

Half hour later you finally arrived, but they stopped you from getting out of the car. Again, Arthur was doing lines and he raised his eyebrows at you in the mirror, you nodded and you lifted up from the backseat, snorting a little. John sniffed and he lights up a cigar; he didn't told you a single word all the road and this upset you, that's why you accepted Arthur's offer.

"Okay [Y/N], I feel like if I'm not tellin you this again, John would shut me in my fuckin eyes, so listen. They will have girls, so you.."

"What about you, Tom?" Arthur smirked.

"Unfortunately, I have Tatiana."

"She's something else" John chuckled and Arthur did the same, as you and Tommy rolls your eyes. You did that the whole fucking time, but it was his fault. You don't wanna be jealous, what the hell that means?

"Yes, she's out of her bloody mind. Anyway, as I was saying, [Y/N] you are not..."

"I'm his whore, I know. And I won't say a single word." You repeated the things you've been hearing for two days straight and John glared at you.

"Good."

You all get out of the car and took a look at the big house in front of you.

"Remember lads, they are fucking insane. Fuck them."

You didn't believed back then. But now, you truly did.

The living room and the party was a orgy in it truest form and you never saw something like this before. Men kissing and pleasing other men, women tasting each other and others fucking right there without a shame. You wanted so bad to avoid seeing another man's cock, but it was hard and John looked at you; this time his face alarmed for a bit as he wanted so bad to protect your innocence, yet he was still mad and he can't show affection to his "whore". The music was so loud as Thomas was talking to the Russians, so John took the chance to talk into your ear, slowly touching your ass for the public.

"If something happens to you, I will lose my shit, so you better..."

"It won't."

He nodded and Thomas guided you all to a office you guessed. There was two other curvy and almost naked women, probably for Arthur.  Leon, as the boys called him, looked at Arthur, then at John, but his eyes slowly faded on you.

"This one was for you, John." He speaks with a strong accent and you tried your best not to frown. John grinned at her, but then he smacked your ass hard so everyone saw it and for the show, you bit on your lower lip while looking at him.

"Thank you, but this one is fo’ me. She's the best in Small Heath."

"And you couldn't leave her back at home, ey?"

"She can't resist without my filling her."

The Romanov family are laughing and Thomas and Arthur did the same, but they looked concerned about your reaction. You just looked at John like you wanted to fuck him right there. Even if you just wanted to rip his head off. Both of them. You know that this is his revenge for you wanting to come here, but you're not going to fed up.

"So women you are both mine tonight" Arthur smirked as he made himself comfortable on the sofa with both women on his each side, making him relax a little.

Tommy sat with Tatiana in his lap on another lounge, Leon on the chair behind his desk. John lays down on another lounge and you comfy sat on his lap; he puffed on his cigar as you are watching him in awe. Him not sure if you are truly or just playing your role. He wink at you and he let out all the smoke in your face, making you grin a little.

Soon they started talking business and you started talking with a lower voice with Tatiana, Isabella and the other two women. Tatiana doesn't seem so bad, she was quite funny actually, but you started to get bored soon. Also a bit tipsy, just like everyone else. They don't drink that much whisky or rum, they drink vodka and that's what you also drink tonight. Arthur is drunk as hell already and he is kissing with both women, Tommy started to kiss Tatiana a little too passionate for the public and John...Well, his hand was resting for a while on your leg under your dress, but now he was playing with his fingers on your stomach area. You started to feel hot and you heavy breathed, just like he did watching you on his lap, almost straddling him.

"I want to fuck you so bad" he speaks with a not so low tone, but no one payed attention anyway. "You are beautiful."

You wanted to kiss him, but you are not sure if that's alright, so you let him do it when he feel it to.

"You are not mad at me anymore?"

"Oh, I am. And ya will get your punishment for that."

He pressed his lips on yours, his tongue quickly dominate yours. It was a rough and desperate kiss and you feel it right between your legs; your clit pulsing in lust. Unfortunately, John was pulled into another boring conversation about extending the business and drink a few more glasses of vodka in the meantime, just like you did but stopped when you reached your limit.

"I'm bored" Tatiana said as she finished her cigarette and she stands up quickly, lifting her dress up a little as she pulled out a revolver. "Let's play."

A devilish smirk was on her face as she checked the bullets; she keep one bullet in while the others falls on the floor.

"Play what?" You asked and you regret it immediately. Speak before you think.

"You'll see, doll." Thomas pulled her back into the lounge, but he couldn't control her. Leon watched careful what happened in front of his eyes.

"She's not playing. She's here to give me attention and pleasure, not to play a bloody game."

"Oh, John." She smiled at him, up on her feet again. "You all gonna be playing."

You heard Thomas cursing under his breath and everyone moved at the table, you still not knowing what his happening. John was tensed and he tightly grabbed your thigh before you two stand up and moved on the chairs.

"What the fuck is happenin'?" Arthur asked in a clearly drunken voice, with his up buttons ripped off, revealing his chest. Just like you weakened John's tie an hour ago.

"It's a stupid idea, Tatiana." Thomas said as he lights up a cigarette, Leon grinned.

"The night was quite boring actually. So...Why not?"

"Why not?" John raised an eyebrow, you confused between him and Arthur with his bitches still kissing his neck and chest. John clenched his jaw and shot down his glass of vodka. Thomas took him a glare, telling him to shut up.

"Yeah, why not?" Arthur talked again and you are a little concerned right now.

"I'm starting" Tatiana said and she lifted the gun to her temple with a big grin on her face.

John cursed under his breath again and he grabbed your hand under the table, but it didn't feel like an affection gesture, more like he was trying to make you watchful. But you already are, guessing what could happen next.

Tatiana pulled the trigger and you almost screamed under the music from the living room, scared as fuck, but nothing happened.

"Exciting as always" she says and she lights up another cigarette, watching now everyone from her chair. You can't help, but wonder how many times she played this game before and won every damn time.

"Russian roulette, it's been a while." Arthur speaks but he didn't seem too impressed, more concerned about the empty vodka bottle. The maid quickly replacing it with another one.

Thomas was next and he just finished his cigarette as he took the gun from Tatiana, he don't look happy at all. Neither scared. You can feel John tensed body next to you as he looked at his brothers, eye talking with them, Thomas mostly. He wasn't scared of his turn, he was scared of yours and the fact that you were before him. You, the woman he loves, can die right in front of his eyes because of a stupid fuckin game and he has to be not too interested about it since you are just a whore in front of the Russians. John and his brothers decided that it's better this way, if they will become enemies, they won't know John's weak spot that is clearly you. He hated himself for brought you here, in the middle of dangerous and crazy people. He knew right from the start that this it's a bad idea.

Thomas pulled the trigger and your heart skipped a beat, but nothing happened. He looked at you, his eyes full of concern, but you smiled a little to tell him that you are fine, but you are not.

It was Arthur's turn. You only hear the music from the living room, sometimes the moans and until now the giggles that came from Arthur's women, but right now they shouted it down because it is his turn.

It was a painful thing to watch your brothers in law with a gun at their heads; in fact, you see them as your brothers and you love them as much.

"I knew it from the first...I knew it was a fuckin bad idea, [Y/N]." John whispered in your hair; he made a pause, licking his lips then he continued. "You're fuckin stubbornness it's going to kill you tonight."

You didn't have the time to react cause Arthur pulled the trigger. You were glad nothing happened, but now it was your turn and you and John's hearts are beating so loud, that you think that the others can see it in your chests.

"Come on, doll. You can do it." Tatiana said with a smirk and Arthur gave you the gun, not wanting to. He looked at you with big eyes and even in his drunk state, he realized what would mean for his brother if his woman would die. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't, just as Tommy. All eyes are on you.

You took a gun in your hand for the first time ever and it also may be the one that kills you.

Under the table, you grabbed John's hand with yours and you looked right into his eyes for a short moment. Your eyes say "i love you" and you try your best to hide your terrified face, but you don't know if you can.

John whispered back, closing his eyes in pain of regret. It didn't happen, but he already regret accepting it.

You slowly closed your eyes like the others did, but your hand is shaking on the gun. You took a gasp of air cause it may be your last and you thought at John and at his beautiful deep blue eyes, that always melts you on your feet.

And you pulled the trigger.

The time froze and you can't realized what happened in just one second.

Right after you pulled the trigger, John couldn't accept it and lifted up from his chair, throwing it away as he hit your hand. The bullet stopped into the wall when it should be in your head. The realization made your body shacking and you can feel the tears in your eyes as you try your best to keep your calm in front of the Russians.

Thomas and Arthur exhaled the air they kept in and John did the same so loudly that everyone in the room looked at him. Tatiana and Leon were confused, but they didn't say anything at all about this.

John shot it down another full glass of vodka to calm him down and kissed your hand under the table, whispering with his lips pressing against your smooth skin.

"You are gonna be so fuckin punished for this."

He bit hard on your skin and you bit on your lower lip at his words; excited, yet a little bit scared.

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Just Fine

November 12, 2020

Prompt - “I am a kid!”

Characters - Lela, Butchy, Miles, Mick, Royce and Bentley

Notes - It feels really good to be able to write again. I know this is shorter than I would like, but it just feels good to write again. I honestly thought I’d posted this about an hour ago, but I guess it switched the tab to “Save Draft” instead of “Post”, so I’m posting it now. I’m hoping to maybe work on another post bc of the nasty rain that’s making us stay inside.

It wasn’t unusual for their house to be full of noise. Bikers coming in and out, school friends stopping over now and then, and family popping in on their way through town with only a single phone call to warn them of their impending arrival. It happened so often that they usually left the back door unlocked just in case someone chose to stop by. Everyone in their friend group knew that if you just opened the back door a smidge and hollered, “Hey!” into the house that someone would answer. Their home was open to everyone and anyone.

Maybe that was when Butchy started treating people as family instead of just friends.

The first time someone had gotten really close to them, it had been entirely on accident. While they were hanging out at Big Momma’s, Butchy decided to show off a little and tripped, knocking into a chair and tripping over his own feet. If it hadn’t been for a boy a year younger than Butchy, he would’ve ended up on his face on the floor. Of course, Butchy had paid for the kid’s dinner and talked with him for most of the evening, befriending the boy almost immediately. Lela later found out that the boy’s name was Miles, a barely eighteen-year-old kid that had just moved from South Carolina.

Not long after he moved, Butchy insisted on taking him in. While Miles had been staying with Giggles and her family, Lela and Butchy could see that he didn’t like the idea that he was taking up space in their already fairly small house. Miles moved in with Butchy and Lela before the end of his first month in St. Pete Beach.

He had stayed with them for a little over a year and, within that short time, he’d progressed from a fairly shy, silent loner to a confident young man. While he and Lela were thick as thieves and got along really well, even she could tell that Miles favored spending time with Butchy. She understood why; both of them were boys and they shared a lot of the same interests, it was no wonder they were so close.

Even after Miles moved into his own house, he still spent a lot of time at their home. They were practically family at that point, it was only natural.

It was only a matter of time before somebody else came along.

Finders keepers, Lela would claim whenever someone asked why she was so close with her brother’s girlfriend. Even though they were from entirely different worlds, the two girls had always gotten along. Lela had met her first and, just like Butchy had done with Miles, she was attached to Mick almost instantly. During Mick’s stays with them, Lela would insist on the two of them sharing a room so they could spend more time together. The two were practically sisters.

Mick ended up moving in some of her stuff when Butchy proposed to her after she turned eighteen. Lela couldn’t be happier. They spent most of their time planning the wedding, but still took time to go to the movies or to Big Momma’s just to relax and talk with each other. Now and then, Lela would go with Mick back to her home and visit with Mick’s family and friends for a few days. It was nice to finally have another girl in the house.

Then, the balance of the scale tipped once more, adding two new factors to the equation. Miles had never told any of them about his life in South Carolina. Granted, he had plenty of pictures in his house of his friends and family from his old home and, if they asked him, he would answer who the people were, but nobody had ever recalled seeing a picture of two younger boys. One day, seemingly out of nowhere, Miles showed up to Big Momma’s with a lanky sixteen-year-old clutching a book to his chest and a bouncing fourteen-year-old with little designs scribbled on the cuffs of his jeans.

It was exceptionally easy to tell that the three of them were brothers as the similarities in their appearances were too uncanny to go unnoticed. Bentley, the youngest of the brothers, had Miles’ beaming smile and steely, almost grey, blue eyes. Royce, on the other hand, shared Miles’ curly brown hair and quick wit. It was obvious to Lela that the two boys would be mixed in with the rest of their family in no time; they had nearly everyone wrapped around their fingers without even knowing it. The first night the boys were there, Miles had invited over Mick, Lela and Butchy so that his two little brothers could get a feel for what it was like having them around.

The boys had slowly, but surely adjusted to the group, falling into conversation with each of them easily. Royce and Mick were quick to talk about all of the books they’d read, falling into conversation about plotlines and characters while Bentley and Lela chatted amiably about things like art and music. That left Butchy and Miles to their own devices, so Miles took Butchy to the kitchen to talk.

“So?” he asked as he turned to Butchy. “What do you think?”

Butchy smiled, peeking around the doorway to where they’d left the others. “I think they’ll fit in just fine around here.”

“What do I do?” Miles asked, wrapping his arms around himself. “I have no clue what I’m doing here. I’ve never raised kids before. Hell, I still am a kid!”

Butchy laughed quietly, “So was I when I took you in. Granted, you’re only a little younger than me, but I still had no clue what I was doing.”

“You did great taking care of me and Lela and you know it,” Miles claimed sternly, hopping up on the island counter.

“I made a lot of mistakes and we both know that,” Butchy said, lightly tapping Miles’ knee as he moved to sit on one of the island chairs.

Miles and Butchy sat in silence for a moment before Miles cleared his throat. “If I thought it was too much and asked you to take them in for me, would you?”

“Of course I would, but” Butchy watched Miles curiously, wondering what had brought that on, “what do you mean?”

“Butch, what happens if I end up like my father?” Miles mumbled, hoping his brothers wouldn’t hear him.

“You and I both know that isn’t possible,” Butchy said firmly. “Do you love Royce and Bentley?”

“Of course I do!” Miles replied instantly, nearly sending Butchy a glare at the mere idea that he could not love his brothers. “I love those boys with every fiber of my being. I would do anything for them.”

Butchy smiled, taking Miles by the shoulders. “Then do just that. Raise them the same way you wanted your dad to raise you.”

“He wasn’t exactly the warm, fuzzy type, Butch. I want to be a good role model for them, I don’t want to be anything like him.”

“Then love them just like Lela, Mickie and I love you. Love them the way you want to be loved,” Butchy said, giving Miles shoulder a squeeze. “If and when you need help, we’re all here for you. We love those boys already and we’ve only known them for a day.”

“Really?” Miles asked, glancing hopefully at Butchy.

“Come here,” Butchy said, holding a hand out to Miles. Miles took it, hopping down from the island and following Butchy to the doorway. Butchy took him by the shoulder and brought Miles ahead of him, leaning him to the side just enough that the younger man could see around the corner to the other room. “Look.”

In the living room, Lela and Bentley were laying on the floor next to each other, an art set Miles had given him a few years ago was spread out in front of them while they colored in a sketchbook Mick and Miles had bought for him before his and Royce’s arrival. The pair were talking and joking and seemingly enjoying each others’ company. Royce and Mick, on the other hand, were relaxing on the couch while Mick read aloud from a book Royce had taken from one of the shelves. Miles smiled as he watched Royce rest against Mick’s side and put his head on her shoulder while she read to him. His brothers looked so at ease with Lela and Mick. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them so relaxed, let alone with people they barely knew.

Butchy’s hand gripped Miles arm, giving him a light squeeze and a smile. “I think, with all the love they’re going to get, those boys will be just fine.”

[tracybirds]

Virgil + Yesterday.

I did say I wanted to do a more Virgil focused piece for @gumnut-logic ‘s FABFiveFeb Week Virgil and then I got excited about the finale and started this yesterday (heh) and I’m STOKED that it kinda falls in line with it :DDDD 

So.... Virgil and Jeff talk after his return, no explicit spoilers bc hadn’t seen the episode, but does deal with the whole aftermath thing. Hence the cut.

More from FAB Five Feb: [Alan] | [Gordon] | [Virgil 1] | [John] | [Scott] | [Jeff]

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Small things built into large things. Virgil had seen it many times before.

A single brick, laid down over and over again, could build a city.

A single note, resonant before a hushed audience, could transform into a symphony.

A brushstroke, surrounded by an empty canvas, could grow into a masterpiece admired around the world.

A single answer to a cry for help could save a life.

A single life saved could develop into a global rescue organisation and an obsession with kindness and service to others could develop with it.

Small things built into large things and that was how the world worked. Virgil adjusted to the minute changes in his life and so he was never surprised at the realisation of organic growth that occurred.

But not all change happened slowly.

An avalanche.

An explosion.

A submarine torn to shreds.

And yesterday.

Yesterday, they travelled over a lightyear, there and back again, to the far reaches of the Solar System and retrieved a man Virgil knew instinctively. He should have grown, in small, minute ways that added up over the last eight years to form a new man sitting before them.

But Jeff Tracy still looked like their Dad, still acted like their Dad, smiling and laughing and loving as though the whole ordeal was the result of a mere joyride. As though nothing had changed.

Virgil was wary of the man Scott had brought home with them. He was too similar to the man whom they had grieved. He was a living ghost in their home.

It was 1 a.m. and the house was silent as Virgil walked through the halls. He knew he wasn’t the only one awake, could even see the light spilling out from Scott’s room. He resisted the urge to check in on him. He wouldn’t need to do that anymore, not like he used to. Another change.

The night was humid and the floorboards creaked as he walked across to the balcony, where a lone figure with a familiar silhouette was framed by the night sky.

“Hey,” came the whispered acknowledgement of his presence. “How’re you doing, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” he mumbled, pulling up a chair to sit beside his father.

A sad smile flitted across Jeff’s face.

“No, I suppose you’re not.”

They sat together in silence, drinking in moonlight and the rhythmic crash of the waves below.

Virgil had never felt tongue-tied around his father before. His father had never come back from the dead before.

“How are you coping?” asked Jeff finally. “This must be a big adjustment for you.”

Virgil’s throat closed up and he swallowed back the tears. Eight years and his Dad really was exactly as he remembered him. It didn’t feel real.

“I’m fine,” he said, chest hitching a little as he spoke.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said quietly, confused and unsure of the truth in his statement.

“Oh, yes I have,” said Jeff quietly. He looked out at the stars above them. “Never understood how people could use the stars to tell stories before. Never really understood the point of stories at all neither. I do now.”

Virgil stayed quiet. Once upon a time he might have felt a flicker of triumph at the words, the battle between his father and him on the importance of music and art and stories was an old one. What his Dad had always shrugged off as hobbies, Virgil had known were what was keeping him alive in the cold, dark days following his mother’s death. Virgil didn’t like to think that this was something his father and him now had in common.

“They look almost the same,” Jeff mused aloud, eyes roaming the familiar patterns. “No Lucy though, she’ll be up in the morning.”

Virgil felt uncomfortable for a moment. This was John’s territory – or Alan’s – and he didn’t like to think he was taking away something precious from them.

“The stories I told myself,” he said, still lost in his thoughts. “They’re written in the stars forever now. I’ll tell them to you someday, and you can tell me which ones are real and which ones I made up.”

“I’d like to hear them Dad,” said Virgil, softly.

“Well, we can trade,” said Jeff jovially, and just like that he was a man unchanged once more, a father who could have stepped right out of Virgil’s memory.

Virgil said nothing, drinking in the sight of his father’s smile. There were cracks he could see, now that he knew what to look for. As he watched, the light behind his Dad’s eyes shifted as he sighed.

“You always saw a little too much, Virgil,” he said, gruffly.

“Will you be okay?”

“I will. I’ve got your Grandma and I’ve got you boys.”

“Will we be enough?”

“You’ve done enough, kid,” said Jeff firmly, and Virgil straightened in his seat as he heard the commanding tone, still familiar after all those years. “The rest is not for you to worry about. Just let me be your father, nothing more, nothing less.”

Eight years with Scott, with John, with Gordon and Alan, means his instincts are screaming at him to not let this go, to check in with his father, to find out what was wrong and to do his damnedest to fix it.

After all, he’s changed too.

But for tonight, he could meet his Dad where he is.

For tonight, he could pretend that nothing had changed.

“Love you, Dad.”

He captured his Dad in a tight hug, hands curling around familiar shoulders and nose buried in a scent that pulled him back into the past.

Nothing had changed.

[afictionaladventure16]

k so what about an rdj x teen daughter or something along those lines, and she doesn’t want/is self conscious about him coming to her school play bc he’s so good, and what if i let him down or something like that?? i love your writing and i just thought you would do great with this prompt

I’m Trying To Make You Proud (Robert Downey Jr x Daughter!Reader)

A/N: I may have changed it up a bit… anyway, I hope you enjoy this fic! Sorry, it took so long! 

Actors Masterlist

Character Taglist 

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1,920

Robert had was notified through a letter about your grades, he was concerned about it and even though Susan said she’d go for him, he refused to just sit at home about this. So, there he was. Sitting at the principal’s office, feeling as if he was a teen again, waiting to be scolded for no reason. Okay, maybe for some particular reason, but this time it felt like for no reason. He tried his best to remind himself that he wasn’t there for himself but for you and no matter the outcome of the meeting he was going to try his hardest to help you through whatever you were struggling with at school. 

“Mr. Downey!” He heard your principal say. 

Robert quickly stood up, shaking your principal’s hand, “please call me, Robert.” 

The principal smiled before taking a seat behind his desk, “Robert,” he repeated, Robert regretted having the principal call him by his first name because now it sure did feel like he was going to get in trouble. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to come to speak with me today.” 

Robert chuckled, “yes, and all this waiting has made me feel like I am a teen again, I hope I’m not getting detention for the spitballs I did in class,” Robert said causing the principal to laugh. 

“No, no, as a matter of fact, I think this meeting is quite pointless. I could’ve just told you over the phone that your daughter is exceeding in her classes. Especially with all her after-school programs,” the principal said as he viewed your transcripts, “she’s an amazing student, Robert.” 

Robert smiled proudly, “well, she does tend to take after me… in some ways.” 

“That she does! You must have been so proud when you heard she got the leading role in the school play,” 

Robert looked at the principal confused, “I’m sorry?” 

“Y/N, you’re daughter, you must’ve been proud when you heard she got the leading role in the school play, were you not?” 

Robert didn’t know what was going on but he put on a face, smiling at the principal, “extremely proud!” 

The principal smiled, “I’ll expect to you see you on opening night tomorrow?” 

Robert chuckled, “you know it! And every other night they will be performing too!” 

The principal laughed, “now that’s the kind of support I love to see from a parent, again I am so deeply sorry that you had to come all this way for something that could’ve been done over the phone.” 

“It’s fine,” Robert said as he got up from his seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow at opening night then,” he said as he shook the man’s hand before leaving the room. 

~ 

Robert walked into his house, quite expecting his two youngest kids to come running up to him but once he was greeted with nothing he remembered that they were at a friends house for the afternoon. His mind wandered back to what the principal had mentioned. 

“Robert? Is that you?” He heard his wife, Susan, call out from the living room. 

“Yeah,” he said softly as he walked into the living room. 

“How’d it go?” she asked as she watched Robert sit down on the couch beside her. She closed the book she had been reading to give Robert her full attention. 

“Did you know that Y/N got the lead role in a play?” 

“What?” She asked in awe, “well, that’s amazing!” 

“Opening night is tomorrow.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Exactly,” Robert said softly, “she didn’t tell us about it.” 

“Well, maybe there was a good reason?” 

Robert shook his head, “what good reason could there be to not tell your own parents about getting the lead in a play?” Susan stayed silent, “exactly, there’s not.” Robert got up from the couch, “is she home?” 

“She’s in her room,” Susan said softly, “go easy on her, Robert.” 

Robert sighed before leaving the living room, he made his way down the hall. He softly knocked on your door, “come in!” he heard you say from the other side of the door. 

He slowly opened the door, taking in the view of you sitting at your desk, doing your homework. His mind couldn’t wrap around the idea that you wouldn’t tell him about the play. He wondered why you would do such a thing, was he not supportive enough? Were you afraid of his reaction? “Hey!” You said as you noticed your dad standing in your room, “what’s up?” you placed your pen down to give your full attention to him. 

“Uh- I-I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night,” Robert lied, “maybe we can have a father-daughter date. We can go to Olive Garden?” He asked with a suggestive wink. 

You immediately froze at the mention of tomorrow night, “uh- I c-can’t,” your mind raced to find something to lie about, “study group! I have a study group tomorrow night! I was gonna ask you today if it was okay with you if I went to a friends house for a study group.” 

Robert’s heart shattered, you were lying to him straight to his face, “Why not have it here? Our house is pretty spacious.” 

“Uh- because my friend’s parents are very conservative and they don’t really let them go over friends houses,” you were pretty impressed with your lie. 

Robert hummed in response, “well, next time, right?” he said with a small smile. 

You nod, “yeah!”

 Robert walked over and placed a small kiss on your forehead, “I’m proud of you, hon,” he said softly, Robert was proud of you. Not just because you were doing so well in school but also because you were doing so well in the arts. In something that he had been so worried, you might feel pressured to achieve because of his status. He never wanted you to do something just because of him, he always wanted you to just follow your dreams even if it meant taking a different route than he did. 

Before you could even respond your dad was already gone, you had felt so bad for lying to him and you so wanted to tell him about the play but you just couldn’t. You weren’t as good as him and you felt like you would only be a disappointment if he saw the play. 

Robert walked back into the living room, “how’d it go?” Susan asked as he sat back down beside her. 

“She lied to me,” he said in a surprised manner, he let out a dry chuckle, “straight to my face. She lied to me straight to my face when I asked her if she wanted to hang out tomorrow night, Susan.” 

Susan placed a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder, “maybe you should surprise her by going to the play,” she suggested, “just yourself.” 

“Just me?”

She nods, “it’s obvious you need to go by yourself, babe, we’ll go all together as a family the next day, but you need to go and show your support.” Robert was right, if he was going to do this he had to do this by himself. So that way you could feel liberated to speak to him. 

The scene of the opening night made you feel jitters. Your drama teacher was running around trying to make some final adjustments, but the sounds of everyone talking so loudly made you feel so overwhelmed. You fumbled with your thumbs as you recited your lines to yourself. Regret started to settle in your stomach, all you wanted to do was to run to your father’s arms for comfort. You wanted him there beside you to ease the nerves that were going through your mind. 

“Curtains up in five minutes!” Someone yelled. 

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Your drama teacher asked as she looked over your costume one more time. Your scene wasn’t until a couple of scenes in. You were cast as Cosette so that meant you had to wear a blonde wig. You gave your drama teacher a nod before they wandered off to make sure other students costumes were correct. 

Robert sat where he knew you couldn’t see him, he watched in amazement throughout the whole show. Amazed by the amount of talent your fellow students had. When you showed up for your scene, Robert smiled, but it wasn’t until you started singing In My Life that Robert began to feel moved to tears. He sat there watching as you put emotion to the words you sang, he heard sniffling around him. You had brought others to tears. 

Once the show was finished, Robert made his way backstage, trying his best not to get recognized. He noticed a paper on one of the dressing rooms, with your name on it. He knocked softly, “come in!” he heard your voice say. He sighed as he opened the door, you hadn’t taken notice of him as you were too busy trying to take the makeup off your skin. 

“That was a pretty amazing performance, kiddo.” 

The sound of your dads’ voice startled you, you quickly stopped everything you were doing to turn around to face him, “dad.” 

“I was pretty hurt that you didn’t tell me about the play,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“I wanted to tell you,” you said softly. 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

You sighed as you finished taking off your makeup, discarding the wipe, “because I was afraid of what you might say because I’m not as good as you.” 

“Not as good,” He scoffed, “Y/N, honey,” he walked over to you, pulling you into an embrace, “I never want you to feel afraid to tell me these sorts of things, I’m sorry if I ever did something to make you feel that way.” He let go of the embrace, placing his hands on your face so you would look at him, “I was so impressed by your performance if anything I think you’re better at acting than I am.” 

“So, you don’t think I’m a horrible actress?” 

He chuckled, “you’re an amazing actress, Y/N.” he sighed, “I just want to support you in everything you do and I can’t do that if you’re keeping secrets from me, honey.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory of your performance, “ugh, I am so fucking proud of you!” 

You smiled and hugged him again, “I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you.” 

He kissed the top of your head, “it’s okay,” he sighed. 

“I wish mom was here to see it,” you mumbled. 

“What are you talking about? We’re all going to come tomorrow to see the play.” 

“Wait, you wouldn’t mind seeing it again?” 

He smirked, “I bought tickets for all showings,” he said, “I also may or may have not told some friends who are now set on coming to see you perform.” 

Your eyes widen, “who?!” 

“Scarlett, Chris, Sebastian, Other Chris, Mark… Hey, you hungry?” He asked trying to change the subject. 

“Dad! That’s too much pressure!” you exclaimed.

“You’ll do great! I believe in you!” He placed an arm around you, “but seriously, I’m starving.” You rolled your eyes as you followed your dad out of your dressing room. You felt bad for not telling him sooner, but now you were dead set on telling him about all your acting choices. Your dad is Robert Downey Jr. for christ sakes, of course, you were going to have amazing theatre skills, you took after him after all.

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[inspired-by-the-music]

The Dance: Jongin x Reader

Requests are encouraged! Please read the guidelines before submitting your request!

Genre: angsty; happy ending; kind of a crack au at the end bc it gets a little chaotic lol; featuring ot9

Word Count: 2,756

You didn’t know how to react when Jongin invited you to go ballroom dancing with Taemin and his girlfriend. Initially, you were surprised because of how intimate that date sounded, especially when compared to your infrequent unofficial lunch and movie dates. And because you weren’t officially dating, all you could think was that if you didn’t commit to the date, he would ask somebody else; and that fear of being replaced prompted you to agree to go.

It wasn’t until later that you realized a glaring problem: you couldn’t dance. Frankly, you weren’t comfortable doing the Cha Cha Slide, let alone performing an elegant ballroom dance– especially with an amazing dancer like Jongin as your partner and his equally talented best friend watching nearby.

Finding yourself in need of positive redirection, you texted one of your best friends for advice.

And as ridiculous as it sounded, you really believed that Yixing was going to appear and make all of your problems go away by teaching you how to dance. But after a few days passed without another word from him, you were forced to create another plan, so you talked to your friend Sonae– a choreographer– and she agreed to teach you the basics as long as you brought a partner.

You had to bring someone roughly Jongin’s size; your partner should require less training than you; and, most importantly, Sonae said, “Don’t bring Baekhyun if you’re sure you want to keep things quiet.”

As much as you loved Baekhyun and wanted to trust him with your secrets, you knew that he had a big mouth, so you didn’t argue with any of Sonae’s specifications. Her guidelines left you with only one person to ask for help.

“Give me one good reason why I should learn about ballroom dancing,” Sehun challenged when you asked him for help over lunch.

“You mean you need a reason other than helping me? And aside from the fact that I’m gonna pay for your lunch?” You rolled your eyes when Sehun nodded, and you took the opportunity to tease him. “My dancer friend, Sonae, is gonna teach us. Don’t you have the hots for her or something?”

“Don’t say ‘the hots.’ It makes you sound like Junmyeon,” Sehun’s voice was even despite the blush reddening even the tips of his ears. “And yeah, I think she’s a cute girl.”

“Well, she has a thing for dancers who help their friends,” you hummed before sipping your water.

The cogs were turning in Sehun’s mind. His eyebrows knit together as he asked, “Do you think she might go out with me if I go to your little dance practices?”

You happened to know that Sehun had to do very little to impress Sonae since she had been crushing on him for months. Rather than telling him outright, you just shrugged. “I dunno, maybe. No girl thinks less of a guy for being helpful.”

Perhaps recognizing that you were being manipulative, Sehun groaned, but he agreed, “Ugh, fine.” And he picked at his food for a while before saying, “But Jongin better not get mad at me. I hate how he acts when he’s jealous, and I don’t want him trying to fight me.”

“When have you ever known Jongin to be a fighter?” You laughed at the unrealistic image of the guy you had always known to be gentle having an altercation with anybody.

You couldn’t hear Sehun as he grumbled, “I guess you have no idea how much he likes you.”

And neither of you had any idea how sensual your dance would become. As if to test your obedience, Sonae kept assigning risque dance moves, each more erotic than the last.

While you glared at her, reluctant to touch Sehun even for the sake of a dance, Sehun complied with every order, no doubt, to impress Sonae. Finally fed up with the dance and how Sehun insisted upon making eye contact with your friend while holding you against his body, you said, “Okay– cut it out. How is this even ballroom dancing?”

Sonae giggled, “Don’t be so stiff, Y/N, art is supposed to be passionate.”

“Yeah,” Sehun teased. He tore his eyes away from her to look you in the eyes as he jested, “Just pretend I’m Jongin.”

And that only made your pulse quicken as you seethed, “You’re both disgusting.”

Just as you relaxed enough to resume practicing the most recent additions to the dance, Minseok and Baekhyun entered the room in a fit of giggles. Baekhyun said something along the lines of, “I wonder why Chanyeol was trying so hard to keep us out of here,” and their laughter quickly faded as they adjusted to the sight before them: you and Sehun pressed against one another.

While Minseok stuttered, “Um– I’m just here to get my snacks… I left them here earlier…” Baekhyun released a low whistle.

“Ya know, Y/N,” Baekhyun said, “I’m hurt that you didn’t tell me that you’ve moved on to Sehun.”

“I haven’t,” you corrected once you recovered from your shock and shrugged out of Sehun’s grasp. And when Baekhyun, Minseok, and even Sonae looked at you skeptically, you repeated more emphatically, “I haven’t!”

Sehun explained matter-of-factly, “I’m just helping her learn to ballroom dance for some date with Jongin.”

And as you swatted Sehun for casually declaring your personal business, Baekhyun clicked his tongue. “Man, ballroom dancing sure looks a lot different in person.”

“That’s pretty much exactly what I just said to these two!” You gestured to Sehun and Sonae and asked, “Why am I learning the sluttiest dance ever?”

Baekhyun answered, “So you can impress Jongin with your moves, obviously.”

Reddening once more, you rolled your eyes. “All of you are perverts except Minseok.” And following that humiliation of being caught dancing with Sehun, you prayed that nobody else would find out about your secret dance lessons.

Just a few nights later, Baekhyun woke you with a text.

 You couldn’t foresee how Baekhyun’s late-night messages related to your dance classes until the next morning when you and Sonae arrived at the studio just in time to hear Chanyeol declare in a booming voice, “Jongin and Y/N aren’t official, so Sehun can like her if he wants! Jongdae does, and nobody says anything!”

 Excluding Sehun, whose eyes were trained on his dead phone screen, all of the members of EXO gawked at you as you walked through the door. Even Jongin, who sat, sulking, stared at you with widened eyes. 

 Petrified by the tension in the room, you decided, “I’ll just come back later.”

 Junmyeon said, “Actually, Y/N, maybe you should stay. We’re kind of here because of you, I think.”

 Despite Junmyeon’s pleading, you tried to leave, and you might have succeeded if your friend hadn’t blocked the door and gently pushed you into the room. And while she practically skipped to sit between Sehun and Minseok, while she took some of the latter’s popcorn and stuffed it into her mouth, you reluctantly claimed the small space between Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. 

 You only avoided sitting by Jongin because you were too intimidated by his pout. However, you regretted your decision almost immediately when Kyungsoo glared at you and asked, “Did you show up to meet Sehun for one of your secret rendezvous?”

 "Excuse me?“ You gasped. But when Kyungsoo ignored you, you turned your attention to Junmyeon. Your gaze shifted between him and the eerily silent Sehun as you asked, "What’s going on?”

 "That’s what I’m trying to figure out,“ Junmyeon replied, his eyebrows gathering in confusion. "Last night, I found Jongin and Sehun pushing each other around in the kitchen.”

 "What?“ Sensing that you wouldn’t receive any reason from Sehun, you glanced at Jongin, who seemed determined to look at anything but you. "Why?”

 Kyungsoo snapped, “By now we all know you were sneaking around with Sehun, so you can stop acting oblivious!”

 "Don’t yell at her,“ Jongin ordered, but he still didn’t look at you as he spoke. 

 Unnerved by the conflict, Minseok squeaked through a mouthful of popcorn, "I really think this is a misunderstanding.”

 "Don’t be naive,“ Kyungsoo scolded before Minseok had even finished his sentence. He narrowed his eyes at the maknae as he claimed, "If this was a misunderstanding, Sehun would have denied it by now. All he’s done is complain about Junmyeon stealing his phone charger." 

 Provoked by Kyungsoo’s aggression, Sehun spoke at last. "If my phone charged at all last night, I could have told Y/N not to show up–”

 Jongdae interrupted to ask calmly– no, curiously– “But why were you meeting at all?”

 Having adopted the role of Sehun’s defender, Chanyeol crossed his arms and demanded, “Why does it matter? Even if Sehun wanted to make out in the studio–”

 "Hey, seriously, guys,“ Junmyeon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "don’t misuse the agency’s facilities. Make out in your cars. Or in the dorm– but only if I’m not home.”

 While you hid your face in your hands because you were mortified by the conversation,  Jongdae glanced from you to Sehun and wondered aloud, “Wait, so were you meeting to make out?”

 And Chanyeol began his speech once more: “They can if they want to–”

 But Sehun interrupted to ask, “Chanyeol, do you really think I’d cheat with Jongin’s girl– regardless of whether they’re official or not?”

 Chanyeol answered quietly as if he were trying to conceal his words from the rest of the group. “Dude, what was I supposed to think when I saw you dancing together like that?”

 "So you thought I was cheating? And you covered up for me?“ You removed your hands from your face to watch Sehun’s eyebrows lower with each word. 

 "Well, duh,” Chanyeol nodded, “wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

 Sehun ground his fist into the studio floor. “Of course not! If I thought you were a filthy cheater, I would tell everyone how disgusting you are!”

 "Anyway,“ Junmyeon cut in gently, "Sehun, if you weren’t having an affair, why were you secretly meeting Y/N?”

 Before Sehun could answer, Kyungsoo spat, “Don’t tell me you don’t believe they were up to something!”

 Rather than assert his innocence, Sehun leaned forward and yelled, “Why the hell do you care so much, kiwi head? If I say it was an innocent meeting between friends, that should be enough for you!”

 Bewildered, Kyungsoo repeated the insult, “Kiwi head?” But he quickly shook his head and explained, “I care so much because Jongin really likes Y/N. He likes her enough to ask me to write this.”

 As if he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to do so, Kyungsoo yanked a manuscript out of his backpack and tossed it into the center of the circle where everyone sat. 

 Baekhyun, who had been miraculously quiet, supporting you only by keeping an arm wrapped around you, reached for the papers and asked, “What’s this?”

 "Jongin’s confession,“ Kyunsoo answered. 

 Jongdae eyed Jongin before shaking his head. "You had Kyungsoo write your confession? That should come from the heart!”

 Jongin broke his silence to argue, “I didn’t ask him to write that! I just asked for advice on how to make things official with Y/N!”

 And while Kyungsoo– offended by Jongin’s rejection of his handwritten confession– reached over you to snatch his work from Baekhyun’s hands, Sehun asked, “Okay, so why am I in trouble for allegedly liking Y/N– when I really, seriously, definitely don’t– while Jongdae is openly lusting after her?”

 You weren’t even allowed time to process Jongdae’s recently revealed interest in you before Jongin replied stiffly, “I already knew Jongdae likes her, and I can’t control that. And it doesn’t bother me because he hasn’t touched her–”

 Unbeknownst to Jongin, Jongdae leaned across Baekhyun’s lap to simply poke your knee and smile before he was shoved away by Baekhyun’s karate chops. 

 "It doesn’t matter whether we’re official or not. And it doesn’t matter what your intentions were. It hurt me to watch you dance with her like that when I haven’t yet.“

 Sehun frowned at Jongin’s heartfelt explanation, but he still didn’t say that he was only trying to help you learn how to dance, so you spoke up. 

 You forced yourself to look at Jongin as you said, "I was just trying to learn how to dance for our date, and I was too embarrassed to ask you for help. I’m sorry I hurt you– I didn’t mean to.”

 Jongin met your eyes, and you breathed a sigh of relief, but he stole your breath again when he skeptically said, “That didn’t look like any ballroom dancing I’ve ever seen, Y/N.”

 His reluctance to believe you even when you told the truth caused a frown to pull at your lips, and you were certain that Baekhyun could hear you wheeze at the sudden heartache. 

 That was why, you assumed, Baekhyun tried to lighten the mood with a stupid joke. He pointed at Sehun and barked, “Yeah! You shouldn’t have been grinding on Y/N!”

 "Grinding?“ Jongdae and Jongin repeated, although in entirely different tones. 

 Minseok turned to Sonae and remarked, "I don’t remember any grinding.”

 Junmyeon sighed once more. “There better not have been any grinding!”

 And nobody seemed convinced by your laughing denial that any grinding occurred, but that didn’t prevent you and Baekhyun from inappropriately laughing at the situation. 

 "I don’t know what to believe,“ Jongdae said, pressing his lips into a thin line, and he suggested, "I think you should show me the dance.”

 "Yah!“ Kyungsoo yelled and threw the cap to his water bottle at Jongdae. "Try to control your lust for Y/N– it’s disgusting!”

 Sonae finally admitted, “It’s my fault that the dance turned out so slutty.” Everyone must have forgotten she was there because suddenly all eyes were on her and the room was uncomfortably quiet. She continued, “I thought Sehun had a thing for Y/N, and I was trying to see how much he liked her. I didn’t expect him to actually do all that choreography.”

 While you glared at Sonae and considered throwing Kyunsoo’s empty water bottle at her, Sehun declared, “Well, the way I see it, I’m the real victim here!” And after the ensuing outrage died down, Sehun elaborated, “All of you accused me of being a cheater, Jongin pushed me and hurt my feelings, my phone is dead because Junmyeon stole my charger, I was tricked into dancing like a slut with Y/N, and all because I wanted to impress her friend!”

 And although Sehun was embarrassed about admitting to his crush, the energy in the room changed instantly as Jongin anti-climactically said, “Oh.”

 After a few minutes passed in awkward silence, Junmyeon said, “Anyway– I guess that means matters are resolved? And everyone owes everyone an apology– except you, Minseok, you’re an angel– keep doing what you’re doing.”

 As everyone mumbled their apologies, Baekhyun demanded, “Yah! What did I do wrong?”

 "You lied and said Sehun was grinding on Y/N which embarrassed her, hurt Jongin, tarnished Sehun’s reputation, encouraged Jongdae’s inappropriate infatuation, and ruined my brain a little bit,“ Junmyeon explained flatly. 

 Before Baekhyun could argue, Yixing walked into the studio. Judging from the luggage he was carrying, Yixing arrived straight from the airport. "Oh, hey guys,” he smiled at the other members of EXO before asking you, “Are you ready to dance?”

 "What are you doing here?“ Minseok asked before throwing his arms around Yixing. 

 "Y/N said she needed to learn ballroom dancing.”

 Sehun asked, “So you dropped everything and flew all the way here?” He laughed although he didn’t look very amused, and he said to Jongin, “I swear, I’m the only person here who doesn’t seem to like Y/N too much, yet I was almost burned at the stake!”

BONUS SCENE:

 Sometime after Kyungsoo formally apologized once more for how he spoke to you, and after you and Jongin agreed that it would be best to start dating exclusively, Yixing encouraged you and Sehun to dance. 

 "Show me what you learned so I know where to begin,“ he instructed warmly. 

 After receiving Jongin’s blessing, Sonae played the song on her phone and counted for you to begin. 

 And despite Junmyeon’s laughter, Kyungsoo’s polite applause, Minseok’s light giggles, Chanyeol’s booming claps, Baekhyun’s whistling, Jongin’s quiet cheers, and Jongdae’s not-so-quiet cheers, Yixing ended the dance prematurely. 

 Midway through, he begged, "Please, God, save my eyes! Y/N, forget everything you’ve learned!" 

 But you noticed Jongin mouth, "Don’t forget.”

[lesgetittkookie]

wonderwall - jeon jeongukk (I)

this photo does not belong to me. credits go to whoever created this edit. 

⤖ genre: fluff, smut, angst

⤖ pairing:  tattooartist!jeongukk x reader

⤖ warnings: unprotective sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), fingering, dry humping

⤖ summary: a story in which you meet a boy who turns your boring world upside down

⤖ word count: 9.4 k

⤖ author’s note: this will be a small series with parts that i plan on updating for the next few weeks. would love for you to support me with some feedback bc im curious about what you guys think. thanks. 

update: any words that are underlined within the text will lead you to a visual. in this part, it would be the outfit in case you want to see how it looks!

Wonderwall 

won • der  • wall, adjective 

Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time; a person you are completely infatuated with. 

++

There was a harsh ray of sunlight hitting Jeongukk’s face that causes him to blink his eyes open from his deep sleep. He lets out a low groan as his face scrunches up in annoyance due to waking up so early with a pounding headache.

He leans up on his elbows, rubbing the corner of his eyes tiredly with one hand as he adjusts to his surroundings. He looks around the unfamiliar setting, wondering where he was but that cluelessness quickly dissipates when he notices a girl lying next to him in bed with the lack of clothing.

He hisses, cautiously and slowly getting up the bed without making any noise. He looks around for his pants and briefs, noticing that a sock is missing from his foot as well. He finds his briefs hanging from the doorknob somehow while his jeans were in the corner of the room.

He quietly pulls them both on, wincing when the floor creaks beneath him and the girl stirs in her sleep. He panics when he doesn’t find his shirt anywhere, looking around the room in a silent frantic. 

He gives up on finding the shirt, saying fuck it because he has nothing to lose. At least he found his pants because walking out in public with his dick hanging out is worse than no shirt.

Making sure he’s got everything else, he leaves the apartment in a haste without looking behind. As he walks out of the building, there are people around that give him odd looks most likely due to the lack of his shirt. The ink engraved onto his skin that almost covers up his entire upper body are on full display. However, Jeongukk does not feel embarrassed at all.

The boy takes pride in the tattoos on his body, loving the way it looks on his tan skin. He looks down at his watch, seeing that he’s probably going to be late for work and Yoongi is going to kick his ass because this is like the fifth time in a month.

It takes a moment to realize where he is before he scans the street signs and walks towards the one that leads him to the tattoo parlor he works at. He decides to skip on stopping by his flat since he’s already running late. He probably has a spare t-shirt at his little workstation.

He’s out of breathe once he reaches the parlor, sweat running down his muscular tatted back but he couldn’t care less. He’s two minutes late which is better than being twenty minutes late if he had decided to stop by his place earlier.

He sees an old lady walk by him with a white poodle on a leash and bows at her out of politeness while she gives him a disgusted look due to his lack of shirt and inked skin. He brushes it off, pulling the glass door open.  

“Well look who finally shows up,” Jeongukk’s co-worker slash best friend greets him at the front desk as he holds a pen in his hand. There’s an amused smirk on his face as his large eyes scan over Jeongukk’s appearance.

“Not in the mood, Tae,” Jeongukk grunts, going into the back room to find a spare t-shirt lying around.

“I could tell. Your shirt is missing and do you know you were walking around in public with hickies all over your neck?” He points out, zoning in onto the marks.

Jeongukk’s eyes go wide and he quickly looks into the mirror on the wall, fingers running over the bruises. He lets out a groan, unable to remember if he warned the girl about leaving marks. 

“She really did a number on you huh? It looks like a leech attacked you,” Taehyung says as he observes his neck beside him. He reaches up to touch the marks but Jeongukk quickly smacks his hand away.

Taehyung winces, let out a small ow! and he rubs his hand. “That wasn’t necessary.”

Before Jeongukk could speak, another deep voice interrupts the two that causes Jeongukk to freeze in place.

“I see you’ve had a busy night Jeongukk,” His boss, Yoongi says with a judgmental tone.  

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” Jeongukk apologizes, avoiding his narrowed eyes.

Yoongi lets out a sigh, “Whatever, Jeongukk. Your client is gonna be here in five so wash up and put on a shirt.” He doesn’t say anything else, turning around and going back into his small office.

Taehyung lightly smacks Jeongukk’s back, causing the younger to wince in pain.

“Also remember that we’re leaving early tonight for that job.” Taehyung reminds him as he goes to his station.  

Jeongukk furrows his eyebrows, confused as to what Taehyung is talking about. He pulls the black shirt on and runs his hands through his messy black hair.

“What job?” He asks him.

Taehyung lets out an exasperated sigh, “I told you it’s the one where we both have to be servers at this huge party. The man who owns Sapphire resorts is having it for his daughter who just came back from studying abroad in London. She’s suppose to take over the company soon so it’s like some celebration.”

Jeongukk only recalls some of what Taehyung had said the previous time he brought it up. It completely slipped his mind that it would be so soon and now he’s dreading it with his hangover.

“Do I have to go?” Jeongukk asks as he looks at the time on the clock.

“Of course you do. We’re getting paid a shit ton of money. Plus, we’ll get free booze and left overs. I heard the food is being cooked by the chefs of Jungsik Seoul. We can’t even afford an appetizer there with both of our checks combined!” Taehyung’s voice is filled with excitement as he explains to Jeongukk.

Jeongukk doesn’t think he could go near alcohol anytime soon after last night but free quaity food does sound quite tempting. He could also pay ahead for rent and have some extra money that he could send to his mother and little brother. He purses his lips in contemplation before letting out a defeated sigh, “Fine.”

Taehyung who was anticipating his answer now pumps his fist with a  loud, “Yesssss.”

“Remember to wear a black button down and some slacks,” Taehyung informs him as they both glance at the shop’s door that opens with their clients.

“Whatever,” Jeongukk grumbles before leading his client to the back.

++

“I don’t understand why he’s throwing me this party when it’s clearly about him showing off his wealth,” You complain to Jimin as you watch the nail technician apply a glittery nail polish to your freshly manicured nails.

“Maybe he just wants to celebrate that you’re finally home after two years of being away,” Jimin mumbles as a lady massages his face with various creams.

“Or maybe he doesn’t give a shit about that at all and wants to show people how he got what he wanted and his daughter is compliant to whatever he says.” Your voice seeps with bitterness as you speak.

Jimin lets out a sigh, not knowing what to say because he knows that it’s probably true. Your father has hardly ever cared for your wishes and he’s been telling you to do everything he has said your whole life.

You’ve only been back in Korea for a day and your father had informed you as soon as you stepped into the office to greet him that there was going to be a celebration for your arrival and graduating from business school. He hadn’t even came to your graduation yet he wants to celebrate for your accomplishments. His words, not yours.

You had no other choice but to listen without a word because you knew you couldn’t really argue with him. You never win in your arguments with him and it’s  not like you could’ve then too.

“Babe, you could sneak it a little bit after your dad has introduced you. I’m sure he won’t notice. Then we could hang out in your room and drink booze and watch movies. Like old times,” He tries to make you feel better with his suggestion and your mouth slightly lifts up at his words. It sounded like a good way to spend the night.

“Can we also critique art works while we’re drunk?” You plead, watching his face carefully.

Jimin peeks one eye open, turning his head to look at you with a miserable look on his face, “Fine. Only because it’s about you and I’ve missed you so we’ll do anything you want.”

You give him a bright happy smile before looking down at your nails, still dreading for the uneventful night to come.

++

“This is stupid as fuck,” Jeongukk says to Taehyung as he sits down in the older boy’s beat up car.

“Boohoo, it’s just for a night,” Taehyung tells him as he pulls away from the apartment building and starts driving on the road.

“A night of serving food to stuck up rich people who I could care less about,” Jeongukk grumbles while he plays piano tiles on his phone.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find a hot rich girl to take home,” Taehyung says as he changes lanes.

“I don’t plan on hooking up with any girls tonight. I’m still pissed as fuck because of the girl from the previous night who left hickies all over my neck,” Jeongukk mutters, running his hand over his marked up neck.

“You were probably too drunk to even tell her something so specific,” Taehyung chuckles while Jeongukk keeps his mouth shut, knowing he can’t speak anything in his defense.

“Fuck off,” The younger grumbles, tapping his thumbs against the screen more aggressively.

“It’ll only be a couple of hours and then we can eat, get paid, and leave,” Taehyung tries to make the other feel a bit better.

“Whatever, the food better be good,” says Jeongukk and Taehyung nods rapidly.

“Oh don’t worry, it’ll be good. These people don’t play around. They’re rich as fuck so I doubt they would have food with shitty quality.” The car halts as they near a large hotel where there are fancy and expensive cars being taken over by valet parking.

Taehyung drives his car into the parking garage, turning off the beat up station wagon once they find a parking space. Jeongukk lets out a tired sigh as he unravels himself from the belt and exits the car, following the other boy in tow.

He just wants to get it over with and go home.

++

“Y/N, sit still!” Jimin scolds as he brushes the eye shadow over your lids.

You let out a sigh, gripping the arms of the chair as the boy continues to apply makeup to your face. Guests of the party are already arriving yet you haven’t even put on your dress yet. Jimin, on the other hand, is dressed in head to toe in his designer gucci suit that is embroidered with delicate flower designs and jewels.

“My face feels so heavy, Jimin,” You groan, opening your eyes once you no longer feel the brush tickling your skin.

“I’m almost done,” He promises, applying a berry lipstick to your plump lips. He picks up a brush and sweeps a golden highlight over the apple of your cheeks to make your skin glow.

“Okay,” He spins your chair around so you look into the mirror, “Ta-da, you look so beautiful.” Jimin compliments as he fixes the strands of hairs that fell loose from your little messy bun.

“You did a good job,” You praise, unable to recognize yourself in the mirror.

“Thank you,” He bows, “I’ve had a lot of practice while you were away.” He informs you, running his hand through his silver hair. “Now change into your dress before your dad complains.”

“It’s not like I give a shit about him,” You snort, picking up the satin silk dress that has a deep v dipping down the chest.

“I’m assuming I don’t wear a bra,” You ask him as you observe the outfit.

“Of course not! You’re gonna look hot as fuck in this outfit,” He says, turning away once he sees you unravel your silk robe.

“It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone,” You say, pulling the dress over your head and fixing it around your chest area when you felt like your cleavage was spilling out. You were afraid to have a nip slip during the party.

“Jimin! Everyone might see my boobs if this slips.” You complain, trying to adjust the silk fabric.

“You look so good though, holy fuck!” He scans over your outfit with a satisfied grin. “Y/N, you need to get laid tonight. If I wasn’t gay, I’d totally bang you.”

“Shut up,” You lightly hit his arm, “Help me fix this,” You pout, letting the boy adjust the straps and cover your goods. He then puts on a thick diamond choker around your neck to complete the look.

“Wow,” Jimin steps back and puts his hands on his hips, “I really did that.” He says proudly.

You roll your eyes, picking up your phone and clutch. Once you grab all of your things, Jimin grabs the room key and leads you out of the suite. You wrap your arm around his, feeling anxious with all of the attention you’re about to receive from the people downstairs.

Jeongukk was tired as fuck and it’s only been fifteen minutes into his job as serving. He’s annoyed as fuck when someone asks him for a specific kind of drink and not the ones he holds on the tray. Just take the fucking rose is what he wants to say but he has to refrain himself from doing so.

Ever since he walked into the room, he’s felt the hungry eyes of many women dig into skin as they hung onto the arms of their rich husbands who were too busy discussing business deals to notice. 

He could care less about the women, just trying to get through the job. He is in no mood to deal sleep with a married woman considering his last experience didn’t end well when he had to walk out of the house with a bruised face when the woman’s husband came home to his wife moaning Jeongukk’s name while he was eating her out. 

He decided he was not going down that route again. Unless he was really in need of sex. 

He could also feel some people stare at him for the tattoos he has on both of his arms and neck. His button down doesn’t really do justice in covering them up as they rise up when he has to carry the tray of drinks. 

Jeongukk was just handing a group of people some wine when there is a deep voice that speaks through the microphone, halting everyone’s chatter. 

People stop to look up at the man who was the reason behind this whole party, holding their expensive glasses of wine and champagne as they watch him give out a small speech. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for those who have attended tonight’s event. This event is a celebration for my beautiful young daughter, Y/N, who as some of you know, just came back from studying abroad at the University of Oxford in London for business school. It was so hard for me when she was away but I’m happy to announce that she’s back and she’s ready to take over my position at the company.” The aged man speaks proudly though the microphone, holding a certain glint in his eyes. Jeongukk stops to watch as everyone holds up their drinks in a toast. “A toast to my daughter and her success!” Everyone cheers and drink from their glasses while Jeongukk just rolls his eyes. 

“Y/N, do you have anything you want to say?” He hears the man ask his daughter and Jeongukk’s eyes wander to the girl. 

He feels his breathe hitch in his throat at the sight of her, a tightness in his chest. It felt like the air just got knocked out of his lungs as soon as he lays his eyes on her. She’s beautiful, he thought. The way her satin silk dress clings to her curvy body, the deep plunge of the neckline revealing a bit of her breasts. There’s a diamond choker caged around her neck that sparkles more than anything else in the room as the lights of the chandeliers cause them to glitter. But what really catches Jeongukk’s attention was her face and the way she did not look as happy as she should. 

He watches as the girl gives her father a small, fake smile as she takes the mic from his hands and says in a soft voice, “Thank you to everyone who attended. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” And with that, she hands her father the mic back before looping her arm through the arm of a handsome man with silver hair who must be her boyfriend, Jeongukk thinks. 

He shakes his head, letting out a sigh before taking his empty tray back to the kitchen. There’s no way he would talk to her. She may be just like the rest of the snobby people in this room who are dressed in clothes that cost probably more than his entire rent. 

He gives an annoyed glare when he runs into another waiter that accidentally spills wine over his shirt. 

The scrawny man apologizes profusely, intimidated by the other’s tattoos and piercing eyes and Jeongukk just shakes his head before walking back into the kitchen.

“Y/N, are you really just going to eat throughout this whole party?” Jimin asks you as he watches you stuff your face with the small appetizers at the table. 

“No,” You speak through a mouth full of food, “I’m going to eat and drink for the whole party,” You correct, causing the silver haired boy to roll his eyes. 

“I just want you to be careful,” Jimin pouts while one of his hand reaches up to thumb away the sauce at the corner of your lips. 

“I am!” You tell him, grabbing a glass of wine off the server’s tray when they walk by. “Did you hear what my dad said up there?” Your voice slightly tremors. “I’m taking over his position. Isn���t that great?” There was no enthusiasm or excitement in your tone, just sadness and fear. 

Jimin watches as his best friend unhappily downs glass after glass of wine. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry,” His hand reaches up to rub your arm in a soothing way. He leans forward to wrap his arms around you, “I wish I could do more to help you.” He whispers. 

You shake your head, holding his torso tighter, “You being here is enough for me.” You tell him truthfully because without the support of your best friend, you would be so lost. 

Once you two pull back, you give him a pat on the shoulder. “Please go talk with other people. I know you had your eyes on a cute waiter earlier but you didn’t want to leave me,” You say in a knowing tone. 

Jimin pretends like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about as his eyes scan the room not so subtlety for the young man who he’s pretty sure had tattoos on his arms. 

“Jiminnnnn, I promise I’ll be fine! I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me the whole time,” You tell him. He doesn’t need to deal with your mopey mood, knowing that he’s the type of person that likes to socialize with others. 

“What if I’m just staying with you because I missed you?” Jimin pathetically makes the excuse. 

“I missed you too but I’m sure that’s not the case,” You grab his shoulders and turn him around so you could push him towards the crowd of people, “Now go find that man.” 

Jimin lets out a defeated sigh, “Fine but you keep your phone on you and let me know when you want to leave okay? Or if you need anything at all?” His voice is stern as he looks at you. 

“Yes mom, I promise. Now gooo,” You push him away, causing the boy to grumble and fix his suit as he disappears into the sea of people. 

You slightly smile before picking up your clutch from the table and looking around to see if there was anywhere you could sit. You take no interest in some of the people who hold a lingering gaze on your figure as you walk through the crowd. 

Your eyes narrow in on a bar where there is less people, pursing your lips before saying, “bingo.” 

Once you reach the bar and sit down at a stool, you ask the bar tender to give you a stronger drink. Your arms rest on the top as you wait for your drink, tapping your nails against the counter. 

You lightly jump in your seat when you feel someone sit on the stool beside you and they speak in deep honey-filled voice, “Water please.” 

You try not to turn your whole head to look at his face but your eyes scan over the intricate tattoo designs that are engraved into the skin of his arm, trying to make out what they are. 

The man clears his throat as he says a small thanks to the bartender who hands him his glass of water. You look at him confusedly, wondering why someone would want to order a water. 

You build up all of your courage and ask, “Not a fan of alcohol?” 

This immediately causes the man to stop in the process of drinking water and turn over to look at you. You feel his eyes on the side of your face but you don’t turn your head to look at him, your hand swirling the straw in your drink. 

He clears his throat again before looking down at his glass of water, “Nah, just hungover. Feel like I’ve had enough alcohol for the next few days.” 

This causes your lips to slightly tilt up at the sound of his voice as he speaks to you. 

“That much huh?” You say in a mused tone. 

“You have no idea. I came into work without a fucking shirt on,” He grumbles out. 

You snort at his words, turning your head to finally look at him. You feel slightly out of breathe when you scan over his appearance. He has raven black hair with bangs that cover his forehead. A large nose with a perfect slope and large doe eyes with brown irises that stare into yours. Silver hoops pierce his ears along with multiple small pieces of metal that pierce through his skin. He has tattoos that are inked into his neck and both arms, his figure built and lean. He is a beautiful man. 

“I’m sure some people weren’t complaining,” You say, not knowing where you suddenly got the confidence from. 

The boy bites down a smirk but is unable to control it as he feels it overtake his lips. “You think you would’ve been?” 

“Probably not,” Your eyes don’t waver from his face as you take a sip of your drink. 

You notice how his eyes zone in onto your plump lips that are wrapped around the straw. You hold back your own smile. 

“Good to know,” He slightly nods, “So why are you sitting at a bar all alone while there is a party being thrown for you?” He asks you. 

You let out a dreaded sigh, looking back at the ice melting in your drink. “I’d say this party is more for my dad, not me.” 

You don’t know why you’re telling this to a hot stranger but since he asked, you don’t know what else to say. You just feel like if you lie to him, he’ll know so there’s no point.

“Didn’t want to come back?” He asks you curiously. 

“Of course not. I knew the moment I’d be back, all of these responsibilities would be thrown on me,” You answer, mind drifting off to your father’s words about taking over the business. 

“I suppose you’re talking about taking up his position?” He clarifies and you look at him in interest. 

“I want to say yes but I’m worried you’re some undercover journalist who wants to get information from me,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Are you?” You knew that he was most likely not but you wanted to know who this man was. 

The boy snorts, looking down at his tatted arms, “Far from it actually,” He chuckles, “I’m a college drop out who works at a tattoo parlor with his two friends and I was able to be a server tonight to make some extra cash on the side,” He casually explains to her. 

You look at him in surprise, feeling more curious about the boy. “Tattoo parlor? Did you do those yourself?” Your eyes flit down to the tattoos on his arms. 

“Most of them. I designed them and had my friend do the ones I couldn’t reach,” He answers. “You’re not going to snitch on me for sitting on the job?” He asks in amusement. 

You snort, “I could care less. In fact, maybe I’d like it if you kept me some company since there’s nothing else to do at this party...” You trail off, wanting to know the boy’s name. 

He notices your questioning gaze and replies with, “Jeongukk. And I’m assuming your name is Y/N,” He says and you nod. “What about your boyfriend? Couldn’t he keep you company?” 

You look at him in ridiculously, “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend.” You don’t know where he got that idea from. 

“So the man who walked you down wasn’t your boyfriend?” Jeongukk asks her. 

Realization strikes upon your face and then you look at him with an amused smile, “That was my best friend, Park Jimin, who is very much gay. He saw a cute waiter so I told him he could run off to find him.” 

Jeonguk slightly smiles, nodding his head, “Good to know.” 

“Girlfriend?” You ask him in curiousness, noticing a bruise on his neck. 

“Nah,” he shakes his head, “No girlfriend.” 

You purse your lips before saying, “The hickey on your neck says otherwise.” You point out. 

Jeongukk’s hand immediately reaches up to his neck, rubbing over the mark as he curses under his breathe. “You see that’s from a recent hook up and I was too drunk to notice her making the mark.” 

You believe he’s being honest so you nod understandingly before asking, “You don’t like being marked?” 

Jeongukk looks at the counter top in thought before answering, “I prefer to be the one marking.” He speaks in a slightly seductive and deep whisper that causes a tingle in between your legs as your stomach flutters. 

You feel his warm breathe on your face as his head leans slightly down towards your own. Your own eyes nervously look into his, feeling as if he was looking into your soul. 

“Y/N!” Your hear the sound of your father’s voice calling your name which causes you to quickly pull away from Jeongukk. “Please come meet some of my business partners,” He calls and you let out a sigh, nodding your head but your eyes don’t look away from Jeongukk who stares at you with intrigued eyes. 

“I’m coming,” You call back out, standing up from the stool a little too fast that it almost causes you to tip over but Jeongukk quickly puts his hand on your hip to keep you steady. 

You feel your breathe hitch in your throat as your chest rises from breathing heavy. You look down at the veiny hand on your hip, gulping once he pulls away, touching lingering on your skin. 

“Guess it was nice meeting you?” Jeongukk says more like a question. 

You look down at him with pursed lips, glancing over at your father who was talking to his friends before you quickly whisper down into his ear, “Meet me near the restrooms in ten.” You then stand up straightly again and walk towards your father who smiles brightly, putting his arm around your shoulder as he introduces you to his colleagues. 

Jeongukk didn’t miss the way your hips swayed as when you walked and how your whole backside was on display as the dress had a low dip just above the dimples of your back. 

His knuckles turn white as he grips his glass tightly from the sexual tension he felt when he talked to you. The way your eyes would linger on his tattoos. How your plump berry lips wrapped around the straw when you knew he was watching. How your satin dress clung to your body while your skin glowed under the twinkling chandeliers. You took his breathe away. 

He had noticed you sitting at the bar and purposely decided to sit on the stool next to you, catching your floral scent when he casually asked the bartender for his glass of water. What he didn’t expect was for you to initiate a conversation with him. 

Your voice was soft and delicate when you spoke. He didn’t miss the sadness in your eyes when you spoke about your father. He didn’t expect you to be so open and honest considering he was just a stranger. He also didn’t fail to notice the fire that lit your eyes when spoke about his preference of leaving marks on her skin. 

Although he didn’t plan on hooking up with anyone tonight, that thought completely went into the trash once you started talking to him. 

He felt the excitement bubble in his stomach when he had heard you whisper in his ear that you wanted to see him again in a couple of minutes. Jeongukk decides that he just needs one drink because although he is a confident man when it comes to women, he felt slightly nervous about you. 

There was something about your beauty that he found so ethereal. How you were dressed in head to toe in expensive clothes but your personality quite different from what he expected. He was enamored by your presence around him. 

“Can I get a small glass of whiskey?” He asks the bartender who nods, pouring him a glass. 

He quickly downs the drink, feeling the liquid burn in his throat as he drinks it in one go. The glass slams against the counter, causing the person beside him to flinch but he pays no mind. He wipes his mouth, glancing over to see your eyes catching a glimpse of what he’s doing, a small smile on your lips that he knows is because of how he’s reacting and not because of what the person you’re speaking to is saying. 

He narrows his eyes at you before heading towards the restrooms outside of the hall and away from the people. He completely neglects the job he was suppose to be doing originally, more eager over what you two are about to do. 

Taehyung could get an explanation later.

“Fuck,” You moan against Jeongukk’s mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips to meet your tongue. His hands are running down your sides, brushing over your bare back while yours are tangled in his silky black hair. 

As soon as he had stepped in the hallways secluded from everyone else, not even five minutes later you had came to the area with your hand running down his back which had caused him to turn around only to be met with your lips pressing against his. 

He was taken by surprise when it happened but he quickly got over it and responded to your kiss which had then led you to where you are now: a storage closet where the two of your are making out with your hands all over each other. 

Jeongukk pulls his lips away from yours, grabbing ahold of the sides of your face before kissing his way down your neck. Your head tips back to rest against the wall behind you as you let the handsome man suck a bruise right above your breast. 

One of your hands trail down from his hair all the way across his built chest to the front of his slacks. You’re able to feel his large bulge pushing against the fabric as you rub against it. Jeongukk hisses into your skin but continues to create marks across your chest. 

You feel the strap of your dress slide of your shoulder, revealing your left breast and Jeongukk takes that moment to kiss around your areola before he wraps his lips around your perked nipple. You bite down on your lip to hold back a loud moan so that no one outside of the room hears you while your hand holds the back of his head, pushing him further into your chest. 

His tongue swirls around your nipple before he digs his teeth into your skin, causing the wetness between your legs to soak the fabric of your underwear. 

“Jeongukk,” You call out in pleasure as he kisses your nipple one last time before pulling back to look at you. The both of your eyes meet, appearance disheveled from touching each other. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, revealing more of his tattooed chest and washboard abs. 

Without a second thought, your finger trails down from the top of his collarbone to his chest, feeling the muscle as it contracts beneath your touch. He leans down to kiss your lips again, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. 

Your eyes shut as you breathe through your nose, loving the feeling of how his arms wrapped around your waist as he kisses you. After a few more lingering kisses, you pull back to catch your breathe as does he. 

“I want you to...” You start as your hand trails down his chest to his pants, “keep me company for the rest of the night.” You whisper, eyes taking in the designs on his chest. 

Jeongukk exhales through his nose, looking at you with his dark eyes as he allows you to touch his skin. He feels his heart slightly speed up at your suggestion and he wants nothing more than to take you right there. 

But he refrains himself from doing so and asks, “In here?” 

Your eyes meet his against but your hand doesn’t leave his chest. Your mouth lifts up in amusement at his question and you shake your head. 

“I have the key to a suite upstairs,” You inform him and he nods, feeling elated. 

“Well then, let’s go check it out,” He smiles and you lean in to kiss him again because his lips look so inviting. 

He helps you fix the strap of your dress by adjusting it on your shoulder again and you make sure the fabric of the dress is covering your breasts. Meanwhile Jeongukk buttons his shirt and runs his hands through his hair to make himself look somewhat decent when you two walk out. 

Once you grab the clutch your dropped onto floor when you two came in earlier, you open the door and look behind you before looking outside to make sure no one was around before you grab his hand and lead him out. 

The both of you walk towards the elevator in quick footsteps before anyone else catches you and the actions made you feel giddy. 

Once your inside, Jeongukk asks, “What floor?” to which you reply, “Thirteen.” And soon as the button is pressed, he pushes you against the wall, arms on either side of your head as your lips meet in another heated kiss. 

Your hands immediately reach up to grab the side of his neck, lips moving with his as the kiss is filled with lust. At this rate, the wetness between your leg trails down your inner thigh and you could both smell your arousal which only turns on the boy even more as his hips grind into yours. 

You gasp into his mouth, scrunching up his shirt in your hand as you let him grind against your crotch with his own hard bulge. One of his hands move down to your ass, giving it a small squeeze and you moan into his mouth, wanting more. 

“Baby, you’re so hot,” Jeongukk speaks against your mouth, “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you when I first saw you.” He tells her, unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. 

He starts to kiss down your neck again, causing you to tilt your head to the side eyes shutting in pleasure. When you hear the ding of the elevator, they immediately open and you pull back from his lips as you watch the doors open. 

Jeongukk can’t help but hook his hands beneath your thighs and pick you up into his strong arms so that your legs wrap around his waist. Your satin dress hikes up your thighs, revealing your whole left leg due to the slit on the side and you’re pretty sure you could feel your ass peeking out but in that moment you did not care. 

Your arms are wrapped around his neck, lips trailing kisses down his neck as he carries you down the hall. 

“Room 13E,” You mumble, lips sucking the skin of his neck into your mouth. You knew he was the one who likes to mark but you felt the urge to create a bruise so that others could see your work. 

Once he reaches right outside the door, you’re slammed against the door and you quickly reach into your clutch to grab the key card. He grabs it from your hand, sliding it through the lock in a haste and then he turns the knob to push it open. He holds you up against him by one arm, making the muscles in his arm flex as the other works on swinging open the door. 

When you get inside, he wraps both of his hands around your thighs again and kicks the door shut behind him with his foot. You drop your clutch onto the floor carelessly as he leads you to the large king sized bed that is sat in the middle of the room. 

His knees knocking against the edge of the mattress as he drops you onto the bed while he stands above you his lips red from kissing you, hair messy from the countless times you grabbed onto it. 

“I’m gonna eat you out. Do you want that, baby? Do you want my mouth on your pussy?” He asks you and you nod, legs involuntarily spreading open in an inviting manner. 

He unbuttons his hair, feeling the sweat trickle down his neck and you sit up on your elbow as you watch the shirt unravel from his torso to reveal his chest that is covered with tattoos. There is a beautiful large rose on his side with the veins that run across his stomach with thorns and petals. 

You watch as he unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of the loops and throwing it behind him. You don’t fail to miss his crotch area where his bulge is pushing against the fabric. You push yourself up from the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as you grab the waist of his pants. Your lips lick over the fabric of his blank pants, causing Jeongukk’s hand to immediately go into your hair. 

Your eyes don’t leave his as he watches you unbutton the pants with your hands and then pull the zipper down with your teeth. His breathe hitches in his throat as you kiss his cock through his black briefs while your hands completely push his pants down to his ankles. 

Jeongukk grips your wrists, taking you by surprise and he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“Let me taste you first,” He tells you, pushing your dress up your thighs to reveal your soaking thong. He notices your inner thigh glistening as it trails from your entrance and his first instinct is to bend down to lick over your underwear. 

You let out a moan of surprise, feeling the heat of his tongue through your underwear. You tangle your hands in his hair as he sucks on your clit. The heels of your shoes dig into his shoulder as he rub his finger over your underwear. 

His lips trail over your thighs and you feel his warm breathe on your inner thigh, his tongue licking up the wetness that was dripping through the fabric of your underwear. Your chest is heaving heavily as you feel his thumb hook around the side of your underwear and he tugs it down, sitting up so he could completely pull it off. 

He leans down to kiss you on the lips, his bulge touching your pussy and you’re able to feel it clearly through his boxers. You moan, nails dinging into his back as Jeongukk continues to grind against your entrance. 

“Fuck, Jeongukk please,” You moan into his mouth, letting him roam his tongue around your mouth. 

“Please what hm?” 

“Please fuck me, please,” You beg, causing him to smirk against your mouth. 

“Be patient,” He tells you before trailing kisses down your chest until he reaches your entrance. 

You finally feel his mouth wrap around your clit, sucking on it harshly and you thrash against the bed as your heels dig into his shoulders again. You shut your eyes in pleasure as you feel his tongue trail down from your clitoris to your slit, tongue spreading your folds to taste your wetness. 

“Oh fuck, Jeongukk please please please,” You beg, feeling his hand rub over your bundle of nerves as his tongue pushes into your entrance. You feel the warmth of his tongue pushing against your walls, making you cry out louder. One of his inked arms holds you down as it presses against your stomach while the other teases against your entrance. 

When he pulls his tongue away, his finger immediately slips inside of you and hooks around your entrance, causing you to moan even louder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let him pleasure until you’ve reached your high. You pull the strap of your dress down, grabbing onto your breast and squeezing it. 

Jeongukk pulls away, lips glistening with your arousal. He notices your hand touching your breast and he adds another finger into you, feeling your walls clench around him. 

His heel smacks against your clit as he fucks into your pussy with his fingers at a harsher pace and you can’t stop moaning out loud. He adds more stimulation by spitting on your clit and then using the thumb of his other hand to rub it vigorously. 

“J-Jeongukk, please, fuck me, please,” You beg, eyes wet because you wanted his cock in you so bad. 

“You’ll get it soon,” He promises, leaning down to wrap his lips around your clit again and sucking on it while his fingers are still fucking into your entrance. 

“‘M gonna come,” Your voice is hoarse when you speak. 

Jeongukk picks up his pace with his fingers and you cry out when you feel yourself reaching your climax, stomach bursting at the sudden rush of electricity shooting down your spine. 

“Cum for me,” Jeongukk says, watching as you let out a loud gasp, throwing your head back. 

You release all over his fingers, feeling overwhelmed by the stimulation. 

Once Jeongukk pulls his fingers out, he drags them to his mouth, sucking on his cum covered fingers while he looks into your eyes. You let out a heavy breathe, eyes trailing down to his boxers that hold his length. You sit up and grab ahold of the waistband, tugging them down. 

Jeongukk watches you carefully as you wrap your hand around his length and rub your thumb across his slit that is dripping with pre-cum. The head of his cock was an angry red, blood rushed to the muscle. He lets out a groan when he feels your lips envelope the head. 

You look up at his face as you trail your mouth up his girth, sucking and tonguing at the head. Your plush lips suction onto the underside of his shaft, the tip of your tongue tracing the vein that bulges there. 

Jeongukk groans out loud, muttering a small fuck, when he feels your lips wrap around his throbbing tip and glide down his cock. He watches you with a heaving chest as your cheeks hollow, swallowing the entirety of his cock into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. 

You feels your eyes water at the feeling but you don’t stop bobbing up and down, your wrist twisting and tightening around the rest of his cock. He pushes his hair back from your face and tucks it behind your ear as he continues to watch you suck him off. 

When he sees his vision start to turn white, he pulls out of your mouth with a loud pop and it causes a look of confusion to take over your face. 

“I wanna come inside of you,” He tells you, pushing the straps of your dress off of your arms so that it pools around your waist and then tugs it until he could throw it behind his shoulder. 

He was about to ask you if you had a condom but you beat him to it by telling him, “I’m on the pill.” He hesitates before nodding and then pushes you so your back meets the mattress. 

He then climbs over you, holding himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. He leans all of his weight on his left elbow while his right hand brushes across your cheek and he leans forward to press his lips to yours. His hand trails down your body, running over your breast and smoothing down to your stomach. 

His fingers brush of your clit covered in arousal, causing you to moan in his mouth and he takes that moment to slip his tongue to touch yours. He then grabs his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit in circular motions which makes you jerk immediately. You let out another moan, biting down on his lower lip as you push your hips forward into his touch. 

After teasing you for a few more seconds, he slides his cock down your slit, spreading your folds and you breathe heavily as you feel him near your entrance where you ache for him the most. You were waiting for him to slip inside of you and fill you to the brim. 

“Please,” You beg when you only feel his head slide into your entrance. 

“More?” He asks and you could hear the amusement in his voice. 

You nod vigorously, gripping onto his shoulders so hard that your nails dig into them. 

Jeongukk finally decides to slide into your pussy completely, being engulfed by your warm, wet walls. He lets out a groan in combination with a sigh while you whimper, adjusting his thick girth. He pulls back again until only the tip was left in your entrance making your whine which turns into a loud cry of pleasure when he slams back into your not even five second later. 

You pull him closer to you, turning your head to the side as he kisses down your neck while he continues to pound into you. The sound of his hips smacking against yours bounces across the walls and you can’t stop moaning his name as he hits a particular spot inside of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” You cry and he watches your face as it lays against the pillow. Your eyes were slightly smeared with makeup and there was sweat trickling down your silk like skin but he was still entranced by your beauty. It encouraged to satisfy you even more, bringing his hand to your clit to rub it at a fast pace. 

You gasp at the added stimulation, shutting your eyes and chanting yes yes yes over and over again. The boy doesn’t stop thrusting into you, picking up his pace as you feel yourself reaching your high again. 

Jeongukk groans as he feels his stomach churning, blood rushing to his cock and doesn’t stop pulling and pushing back in. He watches the way your pussy swallows his entire cock, spilling out your juices.  

At this point, you’re both sure that the residents in the room beside you might be able to hear you but neither of you pay any mind to them. Your nails scratched against Jeongukk’s broad back and he hisses at the feeling but doesn’t stop you. 

“I’m gonna come,” You whimper, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it.  

“I’m almost there. I’m gonna come in your pussy. Is that what you want?” He asks your breathless and you just nod, words unable to escape your mouth. 

He leans down to kiss you again, tongue swiping across your plush lips and you open your mouth again so he could slide his tongue against yours. You could see your vision turn white as you release around his cock, moaning loudly. Jeongukk continues to thrust into you until he fills himself spurt into your entrance, filling your pussy with his load. 

He grabs the sides of your face, holding you closer so your lips move sync. The sound of your kissing lips is now the only thing you two could hear. Jeongukk stays inside of you for a few more seconds as he makes out with you but you both have to pull away to catch your breathe. 

You whimper as he slowly pulls out, watching your cum mixed with his, drip out of your entrance. He falls onto his back beside you on the mattress, running his hands through his hair that is soaked with sweat. The both of you are breathing heavily, eyes shut as you try to calm down. 

You felt him get up from the mattress but you didn’t have it in you to see why. Your hear the bathroom light turn on and the water running. 

With one eye blinking open, you watch him come back with a small wet towel in his hand. You’re fascinated with the way his body moves, muscles flexing beneath his skin and the ink all over his body telling stories that you couldn’t understand. You feel him wipe down between your legs and you sigh in content as he cleans you up. He then unstraps your heels, pulling them off your feet and throwing them onto the floor. 

You were feeling surprised at his actions, never have hooked up with a man who cleans you up as gently as him after sex. Usually you’d have to go to the bathroom on your own and then quietly sneak out. However, Jeongukk didn’t like he was leaving just yet. 

You give him a small appreciative smile as your eyes meet and you see the corner of his mouth lift just a little bit before he looks away. He then turns back around, displaying a huge tattooed dragon on his back that you never saw before. It ran down his entire toned back, details of the design causing your mouth to become ajar. Your eyes glance down at his toned, perky ass and you quickly look away, feeling your cheeks flush. 

Jeongukk walks out of the bathroom, picking up his black briefs from the floor and sliding them up his legs. You then notice him pick up his slacks and shirt, causing your heart to race in your chest. 

Without thinking you speak, “You could stay the night if you want.” 

He halts his actions, eyes meeting yours in surprise. You clear your throat, glancing down at your fingers while you say, “I mean until tomorrow morning. If you want.” 

“You sure?” He asks you, avoiding to look at you. 

“Mhm,” You hum, rolling to the left side of the bed and tugging the blanket over your body. “You could sleep on the bed. I don’t move around too much in my sleep.” 

You shut your eyes, feeling yourself drift off but you were still aware that Jeongukk hadn’t moved. You tried not to turn around yet your heart was racing in your chest when you heard the sound of his feet pad against the floor. 

Jeongukk pulls the blanket back, sliding in beside you with and keeps a little distance between the two of you. You try not the breathe too fast, trying to make it seem like you’ve fallen asleep. It’s hard to believe that not even ten minutes ago, this man balls deep inside of you while you were screaming his name and now you two are awkwardly laying beside each other like a bunch of shy strangers. 

You feel yourself slip into unconsciousness, body completely worn out. However, you fall asleep with a small smile on your face without even realizing it was because of the boy beside you. 

Jeongukk sees your chest rise slowly as you’re in a deep slumber. His mind drifts back to what you two had just done and he could still remember how your breathlessly called out his name while he pounded into you. The way you threw your head back against the pillow and let him take you over and over again. 

When you had asked him to stay, he was taken by surprise. He quite frankly didn’t feel like dealing with Taehyung downstairs anyways but he certainly didn’t think he could stay. He expected you to kick him out a few minutes later but instead you moved over and let him sleep in your bed beside you, clueless to how much you intrigued the boy as you slept soundly. 

He’s not the kind of man that pays too much attention to the women he sleeps with. He appreciates the women’s beauty and loves to show them how much he could pleasure them in so many different ways but he never went passed that extent. There was something about you that drew him in the moment he laid eyes on you and it wasn’t just your alluring presence. 

He couldn’t fight off the sleep that overtakes him and he lets himself be swept away into a world full of dreams. 

You blink your eyes open slowly, scrunching up your face when you feel a light hitting your face. You sigh in annoyance flipping your head to the other side of the pillow so you face away from the window that has the sunlight shining through. 

With your still half awake mind, you remember that there was a body beside yours the night before but is no longer there. You quickly open your eyes, seeing the left side of the bed devoid of a man with the tattooed body. You sit up and see that his clothes are gone from the floor too and the bathroom light is off. 

A cold draft causes you to shiver and you realize you’re still completely nude beneath the blanket. You let out a slightly disappointed sigh, feeling your heart ache because for some reason you hoped that Jeongukk would still be laying beside you when you wake up in the morning. 

He was so handsome. His entire aura drew you in with his skin that was covered in tattoos, brown eyes that would become a shade darker when they’re filled with lust. His raven black hair that brushed across his forehead. The smooth and strongly built muscles of his entire body. He was different from other men you slept with. He took care of you after you had sex, taking his time gently clean you up with his skilled hands. 

You pressed your legs together when you thought about the way he made you come with his tongue and fingers and then again with his cock. You had never felt so much pleasure from another man in your life. He was mysterious and charming. 

You think back to that small smirk he gave you when you flirted with him. You remember how it caused shivers to run down your spine and how you wanted to see more of it.

You drop against the mattress again, your hair splaying around the pillow and you’re mind unable to stop thinking about Jeongukk. 

You were probably never going to see him again. It seems like he didn’t really care to stay either, probably thinking of it as a one night stand. 

Forgetting about him just might be for the best when your two worlds are completely different. 

++

so how was it? 

please let me know what you think so i could continue to write future parts bc i have a lot planned :) 

love, m.