#and now along with that i gotta go check Instagram in case she posts an extra lil something on the song she picked

[grilledkatniss]

Taylor's giving me anxiety lately

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

[c-e-d-dreamer]

This is so long and so angsty, and I am so sorry! Also, I took the “Music” prompt a bit loosely and based this off music lyrics? Hope that counts. Song is I Do by Wild Rivers :) @nessianweek

My sweater on your bedroom floor, you can take that // You don’t want my love no more, honey I can shake that

Cassian swallows down a sigh as he opens up the trash bag in his hands. The crinkle of it as he shakes it out is especially loud in the quiet of his bedroom, like a crack of thunder ringing in his ears. Leave it to Mor to demand that he “spring clean” and “finally get rid of that shit you hoard” only to bustle out of his apartment without even an offer to help. 

The living room had been an easy place to start. The photos had been one of the first things he had removed post-breakup, so there wasn’t much left out there anyways. But his bedroom. Well, he isn’t sure the last time he'd really gone through his closet. 

He opens the doors to find various clothing and items strewn about haphazardly. Some are on hangers, some are stuffed onto the shelf above, and a good chunk litter the floor. He tries to organize as he goes, pulling out and sorting through the different items to decide which to keep and which to donate. He’s sifting through the pile on the floor when his hand brushes against something soft and somehow familiar. With a tug, he comes face to face with a small cream colored sweater. The sight of it has him falling back onto his ass, his breath hitching as he runs his thumb along the cable knit pattern. 

If he closes his eyes, he can see them here, see her in this very sweater. He can feel the sweater under his palms as he slides his hands over her waist, feel the delicious warmth of her skin as slips his fingers under the hem. He can hear her laughter in his ear, like a favorite song he wants to bottle up and play on loop, as he presses kisses to her neck and behind her ear. 

Cassian digs the palms of his hands into his eyes like he can scrub the image from behind them, but all it does it make his chest ache. Like a damn full of splintering cracks, barely held together with tape. He can feel that familiar thickness clawing its way into his throat, and he can’t take it. He tosses the sweater into the trash bag and heads for the kitchen, desperate for a beer. 

I come, you go, back around back around // I see your ghost on a train downtown

Downtown is a mess as always. All Nesta can think about is a glass of wine, the chocolate cake in her fridge that she picked up from Trader Joe’s, and the next chapter of her book waiting for her on her nightstand. But instead, she’s weaving her way through busybodies and tourists who don’t know how to stand on the right and walk on the left. 

Once she gets through the crowds, she walks with practiced ease to the platform she needs, scrolling aimlessly through the array of texts from her sisters and friends from earlier today. She sends off a quick reply to Gwyn and Emerie before sliding her phone back into her bag. She turns to look at the board above the platform to check the wait time of the next train when her eyes catch on something else. Someone else. 

The sight of broad shoulders and a tangle of curls corralled into a top bun has Nesta’s heart stuttering to a painful stop and clenching hard deep between her ribs. She can already feel that all too familiar prick pressing in behind her eyes, threatening release. She can practically hear his laughter from here, loud and booming and so full of life, as he throws his head back.  

All it takes is one thought to send her spiraling back. Back to a calloused hand sliding against her own, fingers curled firmly around hers. Warm. Safe. It takes her back to a nose brushing against her hair at her temple, that laughter in her ear, a promise that screaming at passing trains is the best form of therapy. 

Nesta has to turn away and press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked sound trying to spill forth. When she looks back down the platform, he’s gone, and all Nesta feels is the hollowness pressing in on all sides. 

It’s just a baseball cap, I ain’t even missing // And a Springsteen track, I don’t listen 

Cassian’s late. He knows it. Azriel is going to kill him if he’s not out the door soon. He does another quick check around his room, pulling out drawers in his dresser and even checking under his bed. And then it hits him, a flash behind his eyes harder than a slap across the face. 

It’s the hat being placed on a head of golden brown waves. It’s a soft press of lips against his own and lithe arms winding around his neck. It’s a mumble of “it looks better on me anyways” and clear eyes piercing into his own, deep and smokey blue and glinting like the roiling ocean under a setting sun. 

Cassian has to clench and unclench his fists a few times to get his head right, but then he’s pulling open his closet doors and digging out a different hat to throw over his mess of hair. He snags his keys and sails out the door to his car. When he turns the key in the ignition, the radio hums to life, the familiar lyrics of Springsteen flooding out of the speakers. Cassian almost wants to laugh at his luck. It would be this song. 

Even with Springsteen’s vocals blaring, all Cassian can hear is his own voice singing along, purposefully off-key, her laughter-filled pleas for him to stop as she reaches across and tries to stifle the sounds with her hand over his mouth. With a hard jam of his finger, the radio cuts out. Cassian takes a deep breath, throws the car in reverse, and drives in silence the rest of the way. 

It's just an old habit, I don't gotta kick // Or your best friends' pictures, I don't check 'em

The pile of blankets atop Nesta is the only armor she needs. She curls her body and burrows deeper into them as she opens Instagram on her phone, the small rectangle the only light in her otherwise dark bedroom. She takes a few moments to scroll through the posts on her feed and click through some Stories, but there’s no beating around the bush. She knows why she’s here. 

Her finger hesitates for only a moment over the search button at the bottom of her screen, but then she’s selecting it. It only takes her typing in the “A” before the page comes up, and Nesta refuses to let the shame threatening to heat her skin win at what that means. She clicks on the first picture, taking in the wide smiles, the arms slung casually over shoulders. Nesta bites her lip so hard, that tangy metallic taste floods her tongue. 

She shuts her phone off abruptly, tossing it onto her nightstand before rolling over. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around herself, focusing on the phantom feel of different arms holding her close and warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can feel the press against her back with each breath he took, feel the words “I love you” whispered against her spine. 

Now I'm driving by the place we met // Could you go there?

Cassian’s so distracted, he doesn’t even realize he missed the turn for his apartment. He’s not even fully sure where he’s going until the familiarity starts to sink in. It’s too easy to pull up alongside and throw his car into park. At this hour, it’s all dark through the large windows, but there’s no mistaking the small wooden tables with the chairs stacked atop them. The register and the glass display case. The chalkboard declaring the seasonal drink specials in bright colors and swirling writing. 

Cassian can still taste the sweetness of her drink against his tongue. Can still see her pointedly raised eyebrow and unimpressed frown like it’s branded at the molecular level of his brain. Those eyes cutting through him from the minute they locked with his own. That lilting voice of hers still ringing in his ears and asking him what he thought he was doing with her drink.  

Cassian grips the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turn white, letting his head drop until his forehead meets the leather. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s throwing the car back into drive, letting the coffeeshop fade away in the rearview mirror. 

Now you wanna talk? // Babe I don't care

“Nesta.”

It’s a simple sound. Just her name. But in that soft timbre, in that voice that Nesta’s heard rumble through his chest, it makes her blood freeze over. She knew she never should have agreed to come to this garden party. As soon as the text came through from Feyre, she should have declined. But that voice in the back of her mind, it had niggled, it had gnawed, it had climbed to the forefront, and now she’s standing in Feyre’s backyard, a cup of some sort of punch clutched between her hands and Cassian approaching her.  

“You look good,” he says once in front of her. 

Nesta is sure that has to be a lie. All she feels is weighed down, like every second of every day is spent trudging through thick mud. Concealer can work wonders, but it’s no miracle worker. And with him standing this close, close enough for Nesta to feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off his frame, to smell that combination of fabric softener, cologne, and just him. All she can think about is the air stuttering through her lungs. 

At her silence, Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So, how have you been?” 

It’s casual, and Cassian throws an easy grin her way as he says it. Nesta hates it. She hates the way that he does look good. Hates the happy ease he didn’t even have to try to muster or pretend when he arrived, hugging and laughing with their families. Hates that she can tell the laughter lines around his eyes have gotten deeper. 

“No,” Nesta says, turning on her heel abruptly and heading back toward the house. 

She hears Cassian call after her, but she doesn’t stop. She’s surprised the whole backyard doesn’t hear the crack resounding from her chest, leaving shards of glass embedded deep in the skin. 

I see you out in a bar downtown, but you look so different like you don't go thinking, but I do

Cassian watches the ice cubes bubble and clink in his glass of whiskey. He gives the glass another swirl before throwing the amber liquid back, reveling in the burn against his throat. He tosses a couple bills onto the bar-top and slides off the stool with a sigh. He turns toward the exit but his eyes catch on the other end of the bar. 

Nesta is there, and Cassian’s entire body feels like it’s been set on fire as he takes her in, the gentle waves tumbling over her shoulders, the small black dress clinging to her every curve. He recognizes Gwyn and Emerie standing with her. He sees her laugh at something one of them says. Over the music and the crowds of the bar, he can't hear it, but it still rips through his chest like an arrow. Before he can even make a conscious decision, his legs are carrying him toward her, always toward her, like a ship brought home to safety by a lighthouse. 

“Nesta,” Cassian says once he steps up behind her. 

She turns and looks up at him, and his breath hitches in his chest all over again. His fingers itch to brush the hair away from her face, tuck it behind her ear and run the pads of his fingers through the ends. Her eyes are guarded and it makes his gut twist, urging him to press his lips against her skin until that look melts away like it used to. Maybe if he’d had another glass of whiskey he’d be feeling more brave. But the alcohol thrumming in his veins gives him enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning a hole through his head and heart. 

“Do you ever think about us?” he asks, voice quiet and just for them. 

A silence settles between them, but it’s charged, like even in this crowded downtown bar, everyone is holding their breath, waiting with baited anticipation. As the seconds tick by, Cassian begins to wonder if she’ll even answer, if he’s made a mistake, but then her hand is reaching up, smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes. 

“I do.”

[mfpeace]

@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

------------

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

[commanderlexaofthegrounders]

Is it still up in the air about whether or not Alicia is going to die on FTWD? I thought she cut off her arm because she was bitten, got a prosthetic (btw, wtF is up with keeping the decomposing arm as a prosthetic?!) and now she was good to go? But I’ve seen fans debating on instagram about her fate so I am confused. I don’t watch the show and feedback of it so far has not made me enthusiastic about starting. 😅 I’m just here for ADC. 🤷‍♀️

Yup, and ofc the clowns won't disclose anything, however, we gotta assume the worst case scenario. Friend, if you wanna watch Fear just check S1-S3 where there was a clear story and you can see the Clarks at their best. S4-S7 are a disaster with ridiculous villains and Boregan every fucking episode, while the rest of the OGs get scraps.

Now let's see what is the current info we have:

First of all, announcing Kim being back? That is highly sus. We know that the Clarks are supposed to be the center of this show, but with the two idiots, that stopped being true. They hated Madison and got rid of her to put Boregan as the lead of the show.

Second, ADC has been getting nothing to work with and the script she gets is atrocious. One episode per season is what she's been getting and considering she is second in the roll call?? It's shitty af so I totally support her not renewing her contract with AMC and leaving that mess at the end of S7. Whether alive or dead we have to find out.

Third, if Alycia leaves then the clowns have Kim back, after they thought their brilliant idea of killing her off screen was great, now they backtracking because they in trouble.

Conclusion: There are some possible outcomes.

1. Madison and Alicia find each other, only for Madison to lose the last offspring she had. Madison takes Alicia's post in the Boregan show.

2. Madison and Alicia reunite, but like S3 Alicia chooses to forge her own path seeing she believes she is still infected and dying, so she leaves everyone behind and we don't know if she makes it or not, leaving open the possibility of Alicia Clark coming back down the road.

3. Alicia never finds Madison and leaves in search of Padre or whatever nonsense she is doing and Madison enters as her replacement in terms of role as the last Clark standing.

4. Madison and Alicia reunite, Alicia is healthy and continues her search for a safe heaven along her mother. But I doubt this one, because the two clowns hate women, specially the Clark women and they won't stop shoving Boregan down our throats. And now ADC sharing screen with these people won't leave her basically any screentime at all lbh.

That's the gist of it, Anon.

[mirdance]

Love Will Teach Us the Way

I wasn't sure if I'd post this to tumblr since I'm just getting started on this platform, but why not! Participating in the Mysme RBB (@mysme-rbb) has been such fun. It was a pleasure to work with Rose. The lovely Ami and the story idea all belong to her! You can see both Zen and Ami staring lovingly into each others eyes in Rose's beautiful rendition of the story. The story on A03 Check out the art to this piece here: Instagram Twitter Summary: Zen plays the part of a wandering minstrel in As You Love It. Even though he isn't playing the main role, he is busier than ever as the sole provider of music for the entire play. He hasn't been able to spend much time with his beloved, even missing out on her birthday, much to her dismay. To make up for it during rehearsal season, he wanders to Ami's favorite spot on campus to serenade her an old ballad. The song Zen sings is based off a 17th century British folk song called Love will find out the Way. Original Lyrics Tune

Zen has had to wear many a unique costume for the spotlight, varying from zentai suits to bear furs to tree branches.  To gain fame in theatre, one must be willing to do the extraordinary and go beyond his comfort zone.  Aka listen to the director’s whims even if he looked absolutely ridiculous.  For William Stilspear’s As You Love It, the costuming was no different than most of his other comedies, save for the absurdly tight tights.  Sure, most bards wore tight tights, but did they have to be this tight?  Zen adjusted the band around his waist once more before buttoning up his shirt.  Even the old guy playing Fairy Number Five was starting to complain, and that dude never complained about anything.

Such was the life of the beautiful and famous.  Zen sighed and checked himself once more in the mirror.  He’d rather not present himself to his beloved in such a way, but he barely had time to visit her before dress rehearsals.  If only he were dressed as a gallant knight.  Unfortunately, for the upcoming charity play, he was one of the only performers who could sing.  This stuck him with the part of the wandering bard.  He wasn’t trying to be ungrateful, but the pants for the bard were even tighter than the other parts.  Not only that, but he’d had to practice guitar day and night.  His lovely Ami understood, but…he still felt bad, nonetheless.  How could a boyfriend miss his girlfriend’s birthday?  He was literally the worst.

He grabbed his guitar case, slung it on his back, and left the dressing room.  The show would present on Ami’s campus, and while he had initially thought it would provide them some much needed time together, he’d only had time for quick kisses before her classes.  (Much to Yoosung’s disdain, as he and Ami had a few biology classes together.  He’d been the reason Ami and Zen even met, but his complaints in messenger about their so-called ‘make out sessions’ were getting on Zen’s nerves.)  Today he knew she would be studying on her break between the Chemistry and Biology building.  The buildings were connected by a hallway that morphed into a floor to ceiling glass dome.  Inside were all kinds of artistic pieces the Fine Arts Department worked together with the science departments on.  There was an old piano no one touched in the back.  He had Yoosung make sure it was in tune a few days prior, not that Yoosung knew anything about music.  Zen had to trust the sounds he’d heard over the phone and hope for the best.

Once he arrived at the dome, he made sure to stay hidden from sight.  The area seemed rather empty of students, save for a couple yawning ones on the couches.  Good.  Not that Zen didn’t want an audience for this, but part of him also wanted the moment to be intimate.  He tip-toed around Ami’s study area.  She was heavily engrossed in the textbook laid before her, and Yoosung was busy whispering questions and showing her a worksheet.  Thank you, Yoosung.  Zen would have to make it up to him later.

Zen made it to the back of the dome without incident.  He sat at the piano and ran his fingers along the keys.  The top was dusty, but everything seemed to be in working order.  He pulled his case off his back and readied his scene.  First, he plucked the strings of his guitar, testing the sounds of the dome and the echo.  He wanted the music to fill the dome while she studied, unknown to his presence at first until she discovered something was up.  He began humming along, adding a few ooos and aaahs until he broke into his song.

Over our mountains

And over our waves

Under floods that are deepest

Which Neptune obey

Over rocks which are the sharpest

Love will teach us the way

He was quiet at first, but his voice nonetheless vibrated through the air.

Where there is no home

For the fireflies to lie

Where no one can roam

Or have freedom to fly

Where the bird dares not venture

Lest herself fast decay

But If love comes, it will enter,

And will teach us the way

Papers rustled in the distance before the clopping of shoes grew louder and louder until she reached him.  Perfect.  He winked and stood from his seat to go over to her.  She looked exhausted with her hair frizzing about her head from the recent harsh rains.  She needed to take care of herself more and sleep more, but he certainly didn’t help with his late-night texts.  He couldn’t help but be drawn to her aura.  Though she would beg to differ, he thought she looked more radiant today than ever with her backpack slung over her shoulder and a pencil in her ear.

He circled her as he sang and played until he returned and rested his foot on the piano seat.  She chuckled and crossed her arms as her cheeks slowly reddened.  She was a shy gal, probably a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention, but he loved seeing her undone and flustered.  He never wanted it to be too much, but today was special.  He wanted to make up for everything he’d been doing wrong, for not loving her enough, for not holding her enough.

You may esteem me

A boy for his might

Or you may deem me

A coward running flight

But if she, whom Love does honor,

Be hidden from the day

Set a thousand armies upon her

Love will teach us the way

He set his guitar to the side and cracked his knuckles for prep for the main crescendo: finishing the song on piano.  It wasn’t the most beautiful song, but he loved the lyrics.  He had to practice it for the play, and it just resonated with him and their situation for some reason.  Even though they were busy and couldn’t see each other, even though they’d been bickering, love would guide them and make them stronger.  He ran his fingers across the keys.

Some try to lose me

By having me confined

Some do oppose me,

Poor thing, to be blind

But ne’er can they break me

Do the best that they may

Blind Love, if so they call it,

Will teach us the way

With no where to sit, Ami dropped her things onto the floor next to him and hoisted herself up onto the piano.  Zen’s heart almost burst as she crossed her legs and leaned towards him.  It was the perfect setting for a masterpiece, and he had to tear his eyes from her chiseled legs to meet her gaze.  (She really did have killer calves, okay?  He couldn’t help himself.)  He cleared his throat and continued.

You can train a hawk

To stoop to your fist

You can train a dog

With prey coexist

The lioness, you can move her

To give her to prey

you’ll not stop the lovers,

They will find out a way.

He finished the song with his left hand and reached out with his other to caress her hand.  “They will find out a way,” he whispered to her before he enclosed his hand around hers.  He brought it to him and gently kissed her knuckles.

The air was quiet a moment as his breathing grew heavier.  She squeezed his hand and grinned as she jumped off the piano and into his lap.  He threw his arms around her, and she did the same.  No words were needed.  They could simply bask in each other’s presence for the moment and lean on each other.

“I’ve missed you.”  Zen broke the silence and grazed his lips across her neck.

“I know.  Me, too.”  She leaned her forehead into his shoulder and sighed.  “I’m sorry for getting emotional the other day.  I know we’ve got a lot going on.” He continued kissing up her ear.  “No, I’m sorry.  I should have put my foot down with the director.”

“You’re both very very sorry,” Yoosung’s voice cracked in the distance.

Ami laughed into Zen’s chest.  Zen was pissed Yoosung had ruined the moment, but he couldn’t be too mad at the guy since he’d helped so much.  Zen ran his fingers through Ami’s hair and kissed her forehead.  The bells outside rang, and Zen jolted with a groan.

“I’ve gotta get back,” he said, leaning over Ami and rummaging through the pocket of his case.  “I have a surprise for you, though.”  He placed a velvet ring box in her lap.  Her legs tensed, and Zen could hear her breath quicken.  Even though he had places to be, he gave her a moment, rubbing her back in circular motions.  She gingerly opened the box to find a stage ticket to his show and a note.

The missing part to this box can be found at my show

Will you say yes or no?

Let me have your answer tonight, princess~

Ami sat frozen with the paper between her fingers, and a grin painted her face.  “I…I…”

Zen stood, carrying his love, and placed a deep kiss on her lips.  “Now, I know how you don’t like to be placed on the spot, so I’m giving you time before you’re really placed on the spot.  Midnight has struck, and this bard has to run to rehearsals.”  He placed her on the ground and wrapped her into a hug.   “I hope I’ll see you later,” he whispered into her hair.

With that, he threw his things together and left in a hurry, leaving a dazed Ami behind with Yoosung to clean up.  Zen had other things to prepare in addition to the play itself, and he could spare no moment longer.  His heart raced into his ears as he sprinted to the theatre, and his unfortunate pants only made the run more uncomfortable.  He knew the director would have it out for him in front of everyone, but Zen didn’t care.  It was foolish, and he was stupid and young.  Yet he could only smile in anticipation for the night, and hopefully, for the ring that would grace his love’s left hand.

[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - four.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! more fluff than usual yall lmao. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish!

WORD COUNT: 1660

SONG INSPO: circles - post malone  

A/N: hiya babes! well, i’m back in university and this semester is a bit more heavy-loaded than my previous one. only the first week of the winter semester, i’m already unbearably occupied. but i’ll manage! i’ll try to update every saturdays since i need an escape from academic works lmao. anyways, happy reading and enjoy part four! x

gif credits: @spiked-tea​ 

vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | three | five | six | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

You weren’t expecting Tom to wrap his hand around yours nor did you expect him to help you ease your nerves down, so you ended up staring at him. You were trying to figure out what kind of stunt is he trying to pull now.

What are you trying to do, Holland? You thought. 

He turned his attention to you, his brows knitted slightly. “Why are you staring, princess?” He chuckled softly, amused at the confusion painted on your face.

“’m not staring,” You mumbled as you turned your attention back to walking and slowly slipped your hand away from Tom’s. “I can handle it from here, thanks.” 

You said it in such whisper that you could’ve sworn Tom probably won’t hear it. But he did and he just shrugged in response. 

You both reached the restaurant without saying another word. It wasn’t much of a restaurant-rather a diner. It looked very hip and retro. It also featured a couple of colourful fluorescent lights, and you knew it was going to be one of those stops for Instagram photos. Maybe lunch won’t be that bad. 

It was horrible. You two having lunch was horrible. 

“Honey, you’re exaggerating,” Zoë said as she answered her emails. You didn’t even notice you said it out loud but even if you didn’t, the look on your face probably said it all.

“I am not exaggerating, Zo! I’m telling you, people were staring so much. People also asked for photos, which I didn’t mind because some of them were totally nice about it, but god! Some of them gave me dirty looks. Like hello?” You ranted off.

Well, people giving you dirty looks were the least of your problems. 

You and Tom were seated in a corner booth as you both ate your lunch quietly. Well, it was quiet until a girl around her teens approached your table. 

“Oh, uh, hi Tom, I’m so sorry to bother you but can I take a photo?” The girl asked with a hopeful smile on her face. 

As you were sitting across him, Tom glanced at you as if asking for approval. It caught you off-guard. ‘Why is he asking for my approval?’ You wondered. 

 But you two were a fake couple now, and you guessed this is how things are going to be from now on. You had to act like a normal couple around everybody else. 

This only made you second-guess your decision even more.

You glanced at the girl and gave her a small smile. Keeping the smile, you then turned your attention back to Tom and just nodded at him. 

Tom chuckled as he grabbed the girl’s phone. “Sorry, darling, just had to check in with my girlfriend. I promised that this day was the day that I give her all of my time.” 

Your eyes widened as you heard the words that slipped off from Tom’s lips. “Oh god, we’re that couple?!” You wanted to scream at him. But of course, you couldn’t. 

“Tom,” You mumbled shyly, also feeling the warmth spreading across your cheeks. 

“What?” He laughed. ”I was just stating facts, princess. I did promise you that I’ll make it up to you after what happened. Right?” He then proceeded to take a photo with the girl. She mumbled her thanks and giving you a complete once-over before she left. You swore you saw her roll her eyes after. 

Once you knew she was out of distance, you called Tom’s name in a whisper. “Tom, what the hell was that?!” You hissed in a low voice. 

However, Tom couldn’t grasp what you were saying. “Sorry, what was that, princess?” 

“I said, why did you have to say that?” You said in a low voice. 

“’m sorry, still can’t hear you, princess,” Tom answered. “Just seat next to me so you don’t have to say it loud.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your phone. You were about to send a text to him but you realized you don’t have his number. So, you opted out to use the notes app on your phone instead. 

‘I don’t have to seat next to you. We can just use this instead.’ You typed and handed Tom your phone. 

His eyes scanned the whole thing and began typing his response. ‘Just sit next to me. This is ridiculous.’ 

‘No.’ 

‘Y/N, this is excruciating. Just sit next to me so we don’t have to do any of this. Besides, people are staring and we look ridiculous.’ Tom handed you your phone. 

As soon as you read his reply, you briefly wandered your eyes around the place and unfortunately, he was right. People were staring at you two. 

You let out a small sigh, before sliding off your seat. As you stood up and was about to sit next to Tom, he gave you a huge smile. 

You were about to roll your eyes when Tom signalled towards the window panel against your table. You looked through the huge glass panel and saw a couple of paparazzi attempting to hide while taking photos of you two. 

You forced a smile and went towards Tom’s side of the booth. You sat at the edge of the seat, leaving space between you two.

“Why are you sitting so far away?” He asked, amused. “Come closer.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You said, scooting away more. You had half of your butt sitting and you looked absurd, to say the least. 

“Y/N, you look ridiculous. C’mere, princess.” Tom chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. 

“Holland, what the hell are you doing?” You hissed under your breath. 

“You keep asking that, Y/N, but you already know the answer.” He answered lowly. Tom had his left arm around your shoulder, tracing slow patterns on your arm. 

Not satisfied with his answer and wanting a more constructed one, you just looked at him- which was a horrible idea. You had a close-up look at his face. You noticed freckles speckled across his face. His eyes-god his eyes. You liked how they turn golden when the sun shines on them. 

With every second that you studied his face, along with his gestures, the more you realized how difficult the whole situation is going to be. You could never fall for this man- no matter how difficult it’s going to be. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tom asked as he popped a fry-a chip, he argued while ordering- into his mouth.

You were not going to actually say why you were staring at him, you had more dignity than that. “Gotta make the people believe I’m so in love with you that I can’t help but look at you.” 

“Wow,” Tom let out a low whistle “You’re getting good at this.” He was still tracing patterns on your arm and you couldn’t help but feel comfortable being this close to him. 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want. ‘Ya know, if it makes you more comfortable,” Tom suggested.

“If I say I’m okay, will you still bug me about it?” You asked. 

“Yup,” He answered honestly, making you roll your eyes. 

So, you gave in. You rested your head over his shoulder and closed your eyes for a moment. 

“The old couple at the next table is staring at us adoringly,” Tom whispered.  You opened your eyes and sure enough, there was an old couple looking at them in awe. Feeling shy all of a sudden, you just gave them a small smile before burying your face into Tom’s. 

You two were acting like a real couple and it’s terrifying how you just feel comfortable around him.

“I can’t believe we’re doing a good job as a couple right now, why don’t we take this up at my place?” You spoke too soon. After hearing Tom’s comment, you took his arm off around you and slapped his arm. 

“Ow!” Tom rubbed his arm, laughing, “I was kidding, princess, come back here. Please.”

“You’re disgusting, Holland,” You said rolling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, princess,” He pouted while pulling you closer again, setting your head back on top of his shoulder and placing his arm around you. “You know I’m not a ‘sex on the first date’ kind of guy.” 

“You are not building a strong case, Tom.” 

“I’m kidding, princess.” He mumbles into the top of your head. 

“How’d we get here, Holland?” You asked, beginning to wonder what led you guys here. 

“Well, for starters, I couldn’t hear you so I asked you to sit next to me.” He answered, laughing. 

“Yeah, because you disregarded my phone,” You mumbled.

“Hey, I thought you hated the use of phones while you’re out with people.” Tom pointed out. 

You furrowed your brows, “How did you know that?” You asked. 

“Saw your interview.” He answered casually.

“What, you’re stalking me now?” 

“I needed to know who my girlfriend is. For all I know, you might be a serial killer.” Tom explained as he started tracing circles on your arm again. 

“How charming,” You snorted. 

And then things fell quiet again. People came and went, however, they still stared at you two. 

“Are we going to be one of those couples?” You asked Tom. 

He furrowed his brows. “What couples?” 

“The one where they have to say sickly sweet stuff to each other in public and have to execute unnecessary PDA around other people.” You explained almost in full detail. 

“Why are you asking?” Tom turned his attention to you now. 

“Just don’t want to be one of those couples,” You mumbled. 

“Then we’re going to be exactly like one of them,” Tom commented cheekily. 

“You’re despicable.” You rolled your eyes. 

Lunch was horrible. It was horrible because you feel like this whole orchestra is going to end badly and you- you’re the one who’s going to take most of it. 

TAGLIST: @thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins @herondalescecilys @notjustpenandpaper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife  @sectusempried​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @heartofholland​ @stxfxniexreads  @peruvian-bae​ @hollands-osterfield​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ 

[something-tofightfor]

High Roller - 1

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader (HCtS)

Word Count: 7393

Rating: M (only for language, and maybe a few mentions of Logan’s past)... this is as tame as it gets otherwise. 

Author’s Note: This week, we’ve seen not one but TWO pieces of Logan content that have left me with massive frowns on my face because of the subject matter. This isn’t that. This is Logan at his happiest, Logan getting what he deserves... and you all getting what you’ve been waiting for for a LONG time. 

Summary: The night that you become Mrs. Logan Delos for the first time is very unconventional, but it’s exactly what both of you need - and deserve. 

“Yep. That works. There are only four of us.” You drummed your fingers on the surface of the table, nodding. “We need to keep it -” You grinned. “Yes.” Perfect. “I can pay now or -”

 “That won’t be necessary.” The woman on the other end of the line sounded excited, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Logan Delos’ secret wedding? That’s a story. “We’re very familiar with Mr. Delos, and we have no issues with you paying on site.” You reached up with one hand to scrub your fingers over your face, the metal of your engagement ring cool against your skin. I’m… “I do have a few more questions for you, though, so that we can start getting things in order, but eight hours is more than enough time to get this done.” Thank God. For the next few minutes, you answered the woman’s questions, picking out flowers, telling her that you didn’t need any of the frills of a wedding package; just the basics, along with someone to document it for you. Right before hanging up, she confirmed everything you’d discussed, ending the call with a cheerful laugh and reassurance. “Someone will call you around four to confirm everything.” 

 “That sounds perfect, I’ll go ahead and give you Logan’s number too, I still need to go and find a dress somewhere without it -”

 “If you’re looking to stay close to the Strip, the Forum Shops or even Fashion Show are good, and you’ll definitely be able to find something.” I was going to leave the area, but that makes sense. “Even on such short notice.” Thanking her for the idea, you gave the woman Logan’s phone number, telling her to try you first when things were confirmed, and then hung up. Alright. Get dressed.

 Standing, you moved through the living room and back into the bedroom you and Logan had shared, pawing through your suitcase and finding a pair of shorts and a shirt, pulling them on before you left the room and stepped out onto the balcony. Though there were almost no hotels in the city with windows that opened, you and Logan had chosen the Cosmopolitan because it had a balcony, allowing you the opportunity to sit high above the bright lights, taking in the view. “Get everything taken care of?” You nodded at the man, who was leaning back in one of the chairs, feet propped up on a small stool. It’s unfair how put together he looks after last night. “Good. Just got off the phone with the airport, the jet’s leaving in less than an hour, and Juliet and Mark will be here by 5 at the latest, does that work?” Stepping over to Logan, you pointed at his lap, raising one eyebrow and watching as he rolled his eyes. “You’re seriously askin’?” 

 He reached for you, his hands landing at your hips as he pulled you downward, urging you to settle on his lap before he encircled you with his arms, chin resting on your shoulder. “Had to call a couple places, Logan, but I found somewhere that can get us in tonight.” You paused. “I had to offer them to pay for our… for us and for the final three hours of time that they’d be open today to keep people out.” Logan took a deep breath, grip on you tightening. “I didn’t want to, because it was expensive, but I didn’t know if you wanted people to -”

 “They’re gonna find out anyway.” He turned his head, lips finding the side of your neck. “And it might even be later tonight, but…” You felt his beard against your skin as he rubbed his cheek against it. “By then, it won’t matter… and until then, I’ll take all the privacy with you that I can get.” 

 “You’re not mad? You didn’t even ask how much -” He scoffed, arms tightening.

 “It doesn’t matter.” You shifted so that you could look at him, brow furrowed. “I don’t care what it costs, you wanted this to happen today, and I want this to happen today, and if I’ve gotta buy out a Las Vegas wedding chapel to make it happen, that’s fine.” Your heart began to beat faster, and you saw in Logan’s eyes that he meant it. “Which one did you pick?” At his question, you actually laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through Logan’s hair. This is gonna be good. 

 “It’s called the Little Church of the West.” He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. “I tried at the Flamingo and Caesar’s, but -”

 “It’s perfect.” You watched him smile, the sunlight changing the look in his eyes and making the brown brighter - which made him look younger at the same time. Oh, Logan. “It’s the one that’s it’s own property, right? Not attached to a casino?” 

 “How do you know that, Lo? Been there before? There something I need to worry about?” It was his turn to laugh, Logan leaning in to kiss you, his lips resting against yours for long moments. You know I’m kidding, right? 

 “No.” He spoke without pulling away, his hold on you tightening. “I mighta looked up some places while we were on the plane.” What? We weren’t even… “I didn’t know if I’d ask you this trip, but …” Logan shrugged, straightening up. “I like to be ready.” I know you do. Rather than replying, you just tilted your head back down, resting your forehead against Logan’s again. I love you. 

 “You’re sure, Logan?” You swallowed, feeling his hair slipping through your fingers as you stroked the back of his head. Give him a chance to back out. “Me? Today? Without a -”

 “Yes.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, the tone of it bordering on urgency. “I’m lookin’ at that ring on your finger and now I don’t want to wait. I don’t care about the paperwork, I don’t care about the guest list, I… none of it matters. Only you an’ me.” He pushed you gently, forcing you to lift your head to look at him. “I’m marrying you today, at…” He finally frowned, nose wrinkling. “What time? How long do -” 

 “Eight.” You pressed your lips together. “I know it’s late, but I need a dress and to get ready, and Mark and Jul-”

 “No, that’s perfect.” He reached up to pull your hand away from his head, thumb rubbing over the diamond you wore on your finger. “You’re taking it off before you go out, right? Don’t want anyone to know, or see it, or...” I don’t want to, but yes. With a nod, you confirmed the answer to his question. “That’ll be the last time there’s nothing on this finger, you know that, right?” Raising your eyes from your joined hands to meet his, you watched his lips curve into a smirk - the one you loved so much. I sure do. 

 “Same goes for you, Logan.” You glanced back down, taking a deep breath as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “You ready for a ring on that hand of yours?” 

 “Yep.” 

--- 

 Three hours later, you were on your way back from shopping, the handles of multiple bags looped over your arm. You’d been to both shopping areas, starting with the one furthest away, but you hadn’t found the right dress until just before you gave up, trying to figure out what you’d brought that you could wear. But when you’d seen it, you’d known that it was the right one, and as soon as you put it on, glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you fought back tears. It’s perfect. 

 It wasn’t a typicall wedding, but you were wearing white, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d regret it - and so would Logan. Even though both of you were far from virginal and neither of you were traditional in any sense of the word, marrying Logan needed to be done right - and a white dress was the first step. But it’s still me, you thought as you turned to look at your back in the mirror. And he’s going to love it. Pairing the dress with low, strappy heels in black, that bag joined the others that you’d accumulated, the thought in your mind that if anyone saw you, they wouldn’t even assume that you were shopping for a wedding. No, just out spending Logan’s money, probably. 

 Even though you knew the truth, you also knew that the tabloids were ruthless, and they had been for years, especially when it came to you. Just give me one day with him. One night, even, where we can enjoy this without… You’d checked both of your names on Google as you traveled between locations, and though there were plenty of people saying that they’d seen Logan in Vegas, there were no pictures, which was a surprise to you, since you’d been to so many places the night before. But as you waited for a light to change so that you could cross one of the busy streets, you heard - and felt - your phone vibrate with an alert. It was nice while it lasted. 

 The alert linked you to an article about the teo of you in the Chandelier, complete with pictures of you confronting William, the angry look on the blonde man’s face apparent even in the pixelated, zoomed in images, Logan’s expression stony. Well they know we’re here now, there goes hiding. By the time you made it back to your hotel, slipping in through the casino and hurrying to the elevator, there were more pictures and two different stories. You’d been spotted at not only the Chandelier but at the Bellagio, too, and then again at the Beach club, each of the articles mentioning Logan’s birthday in Sin City, as well as calling you the man’s “current” girlfriend or “some woman” in the case of a few tweets and Instagram posts from women that you’d been tagged in. If they only knew. 

 When you opened the door to your suite, you heard Logan singing in the bathroom, which meant you had time to unpack. Quickly, you sorted through the things you’d bought, removing the tags from your clothes - you’d bought a few shirts and a second, much more casual dress, too - leaving a small box out and on the nightstand. “What’s that?” Startled, you turned to see Logan leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his bare chest and a pair of dark boxer briefs the only clothing he wore. “ That’s not a dress. What did you buy?”

 “You needed a ring.” Swallowing hard, you reached over, picking up the box. Here goes. “So I grabbed one , just to have a placeholder until we -” He moved toward you, biting down on his lip as you held out the box to him. “It’s nothing special, just black tungsten, but…” He flipped the lid of the box open, his eyes on the circular pice of jewelry inside of it. “I thought…” 

 “I love it.” He was still looking down at what he held in his hands, but you heard how surprised he sounded. “I didn’t think you’d buy… how much was it, I’ll pay you for it.” What?

 “No.” You stepped closer to Logan, closing your eyes. “No, this is from me, and it’s not much, but it’s… you can wear it for a couple weeks until we get you a real one.” And it wasn’t your money it was mine, so no one can...

 “A real one?” He finally looked up, his eyes wide. “This is real. This is… you picked this out for me, and it…” He bit down on his lower lip, teeth bright and white against it. “I really don’t know what to say.” Speechless Logan was new for you, and you didn’t want to let him flounder for too long, instead stepping forward and putting your arms around his waist. 

 “I got a dress, Lo.” He froze but recovered quickly, snapping the lid of the box shut and dropping it onto the bed. “I think you’ll like it, it’s…”

 “Don’t tell me anything about it.” He began to rock back and forth with you slowly, one hand flat against your back, the fingers of the other curled around your bare arm. “I don’t wanna know until I see it.” Alright, Logan. “We might not be doin’ this the regular way, but I still…” He sighed. “Still wanna give you... “ What? “Look.” Logan sniffed, letting his breath out.. “We’ve never been a traditional … anything.” You had to laugh at that, feeling Logan’s thumb moving over your skin slowly. “And we’re seein’ each other before the ceremony, and we spent the night together last night, and I don’t believe in all that bullshit, but I still… I wanna be surprised with your dress, and so the less I know, the better.” 

 I get it. I understand. Opening your mouth to reply, you were cut off by the ringing of your phone. Shit. “It’s probably the chapel, Logan, I have to…” He pushed you away, reaching up to run a hand through his wet hair, and you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone. It’s them. “Hello?” 

 --- 

 Mark and Juliet landed a little after 5 and were checked into the Cosmopolitan by 6, meeting you and Logan in your room shortly after. He greeted the couple at the door while you sat in front of the mirror in your bedroom, doing your makeup. In the few hours since you’d returned with your dress, you and Logan had been busy - taking a cab downtown to get your marriage license, eating a quick dinner, you taking a shower - and even a few minutes spent sitting in one place was welcome. There’s so much secrecy here. You fought back a frown as you applied your mascara, tucking the tube along with your eyeliner, some concealer, and a few other pieces of makeup into a small bag. Just in case. 

 You’d be changing into your dress at the chapel, not wanting to risk people seeing you and Logan leaving your hotel together while dressed formally, and the phone call with the wedding planner from the chapel had made other things clear, too. They were sending a car for you and Juliet, and Mark and Logan would be taking a second one a half hour later. You’d have a private room to get dressed and ready, and before Logan got there, you’d be taking a few pictures. While you’d had the option of getting married inside or outside - since you were renting the whole facility, you and Logan decided that inside was the better option - just in case. 

 “This is ours… I don’t want anyone to…” He seemed flustered, color rising in his cheeks. “It’s stupid, I know, but I don’t want the pictures or a video or… we’re not gettin’ married for them, and if we go outside, there’s a chance someone will ruin it and put it all over the Internet.” 

 He’d seen the alerts, seen the pictures from the night before, and that had solidified your decision. There was a small, secluded garden that you’d be able to take pictures in together, but the ceremony - with only the four of you, plus whoever was there from the chapel - would take place inside. After that, the four of you would be taking a single car back to your end of the Strip, continuing the night. There would be no reception, no meal. No party, but it didn’t matter to either of you, since the important part of the night would be long over at that point. I’m going to marry Logan. At the thought, you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face, and though you heard the three of them laughing from the other room, you were focused only on your reflection, and the fact that aside from looking a little tired, the only emotion you saw on your face was excitement. 

 “You ready to become a Delos?” Juliet’s voice carried across the room to you, and you grinned at her reflection, nodding. “I am, too.” She stepped in, walking over and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He was so nervous. I’ve never seen Logan like that before.” Really? “The only other person that knows is Mark - and I don’t just mean about what’s happening today… I mean Logan even having the ring.” You spun in your chair, facing her. What? “He didn’t tell anyone, because he didn’t want to risk it getting out.”

 “How’d he get the ring then, he -” Juliet raised an eyebrow, the smile on her face wide enough to rival her brother’s. 

 “He and Mark went into the jewelry store, and…” She lifted a hand, waving it back and forth. “Logan picked it out, but the cover story was that it was a new one from Mark for me.” He planned everything, he wanted to make sure… You felt warmth spreading through your chest, unable to form words. “He didn’t want to ruin this, because…” She reached over, putting a hand on your bare knee. “He can’t lose you. Especially because of some gossipy bullshit.” 

 “He won’t.” You chewed on your lip as you turned back toward the mirror, staring at yourself. “Juliet, I know that I shouldn’t even worry, but… your dad… when he finds out that Logan and I… that there was no prenup, that…” 

 “Logan doesn’t give a shit what Dad thinks.” She paused. “Well, I take that back. He doesn’t give many shits about it, even though he cares a little more than he did a couple years ago.” You knew that the relationship between Jim and Logan was tenuous at best, but that didn’t mean you wanted to add stress to it. “And honestly? The money… Logan won’t get shit from Dad until after he’s gone, so the only money you’d even be able to go after would be Logan’s… and my dad would be giddy at having something else to hold over his head.” That’s unfortunate. You lowered your head, looking at your hands. I don’t want anything from him, just… 

 “I wouldn’t take anything, Juliet. None of it would matter without him.” The room was silent, and you could faintly hear Logan and Mark talking from the other room, but couldn’t make out their words. “I’d never hurt him like that, it’s…” 

 “Well.” She stood, squeezing her hands into fists  for a second. “Of course you wouldn’t, because not everyone’s like William, determined to squeeze every last cent out of someone on his way out the door.” Ouch. “But I’m just saying, we all know Logan has nothing to worry about, but I get why you’re even bringing it up.” She smiled, the expression soft. “You know how many people would kill to be in your shoes… but only a few of ‘em would do it for the right reasons.” Glancing at her watch, Juliet took a deep breath. “We’ve gotta get going, the car should be waiting.” Oh, shit. 

 Heart pounding, you stood, picking up your makeup bag and tucking it into the larger bag with your dress - carefully folded - and the shoes. Juliet took it from you, and with a tiny nod and a tilt of her chin, motioned for you to go back into the large living space of the suite ahead of her. “It’s time?” Logan put his glass down on the bar and stood from the stool he was perched on, crossing the room and standing in front of you. “You guys leavin’?” I… we are. 

 “Yeah, the car… I need to…” Put a sentence together, come on. You motioned at Juliet. “She’s got my dress, and I need to…” You felt yourself growing nervous, lips pressed together. “We’re doing this, Logan?” It came out as a question, and though you knew that he’d heard the apprehension in your voice, he didn’t hesitate with his answer. 

 “It’s the only thing I want to do.” His certainty calmed you, and instead of responding back, you just leaned into his chest, your arms going around him. Me, too. He sighed, kissing the side of your head before his lips dropped, stopping next to your ear. “Well… one of the only things I want to do.” Even though he spoke quietly, you heard the meaning behind his words, and couldn’t help laughing, tightening your hold on him. 

 “I look forward to it, Logan.” And I know you won’t disappoint. He released you and stepped back, and even though you locked eyes with him, it didn’t last long. “I’ve gotta…” Juliet was urging you out the door, tone insistent. “I guess I’m getting married.” Raising one eyebrow, Logan stepped closer to you again, one hand rising to your chin and holding it in place, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his lips as he stared at you, a heated look in his eyes. 

 “I guess you are.” 

--- 

 The room was small but comfortable, and you were surprised at how easily you’d been able to settle in, changing clothes putting the final touches on your makeup. You were trying to figure out exactly what you’d do with your hair, a small frown on your face. He won’t care. It doesn’t matter. Juliet had made sure you had everything you needed before leaving to supervise the wedding planner and the team after she’d changed her clothes, too, using her own camera to take pictures that she promised to send to you and Logan. The chapel’s photographer had come in to take pictures of you getting ready, but you ignored the woman, focused only on what you were doing and trying to calm the pounding of your heart. Logan texted you twice - once when he and Mark were walking out of the hotel, and again while they were in the car, and you knew as soon as you read the messages that you’d never delete them. 

 The first was simple enough - On our way. It was no different from the texts he normally sent you, but when you read it with the second, you felt your stomach lurch. This is happening. See you soon, Mrs. Delos. You drummed your fingers on the table in front of you, deciding to leave your hair loose around your shoulders, but with one final stroke of inspiration, you swept it up and into a messy ponytail, taking a deep breath. It worked then, so why not... There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for you to respond, it opened, Juliet stepping back into the room. “You ready?” I guess so. She made her way to where you sat, sinking back down into the chair next to the vanity. “I have…” Turning to look at her, you watched as she ducked her head, shoulders set. “I never thought my brother would get married, you know?” 

 When she looked back up at you, you saw that her eyes were filled with tears. “Juliet, you -” What’s wrong?

 “No, it’s a good thing.” She used one finger to dab at the corners of her eyes, shaking her head. “I wanted him to be happy, wanted him to find someone that… understood him, that was willing to accept him, even knowing what his past was like and what he’d been through.” She stopped, her fingers twisting the rings on her own finger. “Because part of that was my fault, and I almost wanted to… just to make up for it, because he deserves it.” He does. “And then he came home from a bachelor party and getting stuck on an island in a hurricane, and he wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened, aside from saying ‘I spent a couple days with someone’.” You knew that Logan hadn’t talked a lot about you with his friends before you’d moved to Los Angeles, and since it had never really come up, you hadn’t known what he said to Juliet about you after you’d first met. “He didn’t say anything else, and that… that said everything, you know? Logan? A couple days with someone that he wouldn’t talk about?” 

 “Juliet, I don’t -” She laughed, sniffling and taking a deep breath. 

 “Logan would flaunt his … relationships just because he liked talking about the people he was with, even if he didn’t mention all of them by name.” She grimaced. “That mostly stopped once he … once everything with William was over, but he still wasn’t shy about the fact that he…”

 “That he was Logan. Got it.” You gripped the back of your neck, waiting. “I know how he was Juliet, I -” Why are we… 

 “Mark and I knew he was serious about you before he did.” She shrugged her shoulders at you. “And I hoped it lasted, hoped that he didn’t get in his own way, and… he didn’t.” Juliet pulled her purse onto her lap, one hand disappearing into it. “I know you love my brother. And I know that you’re good for each other.” Her hand emerged, fingers wrapped around a small box. “He doesn’t… he doesn’t know I have these for you, but…” She handed you the box, using her fingers to close yours around it. “This isn’t what anyone would think Logan would do for a wedding, but it’s him. It’s him, and it’s you, and I think it’s perfect… but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s here that should be.” What? “Open it.” 

 You did, a quiet gasp leaving you as the lid flipped up, revealing the clusters of onyx stones within it. “Juliet, are these -”

 “Yes.” You looked up, meeting her eyes again and seeing that she was actually crying, a few tears leaking down her cheeks. “They were our mom’s, she got them as a gift from my dad right after she had Logan, and she wore them everywhere for the first couple years when he was a baby.” Juliet glanced up, blinking quickly. “We’ve, ah, got home movies where she’s holding him and he’d grabbing for her ears because they’re so... “ Juliet laughed. “If she was here, she’d want you to have them. I’ve never worn them, because it didn’t feel right, but.. “ Juliet said your name. “They’re yours now. Something old.” 

 With shaking hands, you fastened the earrings into your ears, the glittering gems reflecting the lights that surrounded the vanity mirror. “Are you sure, Juliet? They were -” She assured you that she was. “Thank you.” You lifted a hand, fingertip pushing one lobe forward.”They’re… they’re gorgeous, Juliet, I don’t know what…” 

 “You don’t have to say anything.” She stood, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’re family, and even though… even though the Delos name is…” She paused, an uncertain note to her voice. “I’m glad.” You hated that even years later, Juliet still felt responsible for William’s behavior - even though she’d been just as fooled as everyone else. He doesn’t blame you, not anymore, not… William fucked you over, too. “But that’s enough of… that.” She laughed. “Are you ready?” With a final look into the mirror, you nodded. “Oh! Something borrowed!” Juliet bit her lip and  then turned away, reaching into her purse. “I’ve had this in my purse for years, it’s…” She pressed a flattened penny into your hand, laughing. “It’s so dumb, but I started collecting them for Emily, just because it was something small to show her from where I’d been… but I never gave her this one.” 

 “Big Ben?” You grinned, holding it up. “I’ve never been to London, you know that?” Julliet’s eyes widened. 

 “Make him take you sometime, you’d love it.” She waved her hand. “Tuck that into your dress, you’ll know it’s there.” You did that, ensuring that it was secure, and she kept talking. “So just somet-”

 “My shoes are new. So’s the dress.” You stood. “And then blue… I did a couple blue flowers in the bouquet, so I’ve got it covered, even though I didn’t think…” You hadn’t thought about all of the traditions, and even though you’d imagined you would on your wedding day, you didn’t feel apprehensive about only having two of the four. It’s superstition, just like he said. “I’m ready, Juliet.” Your voice was steady, and Juliet let out a breath, nodding.

 “Let me take a couple pictures, they’re going to knock when they’re ready for you, so we still have a few minutes.” Agreeing, you let her guide you into poses, and by the time the chapel photographer arrived, you had your bouquet in hand and were anxious to get to Logan. I don’t want to wait, I want to be married, I want to see him, I… 

 “Are you ready?” The photographer had finished and was waiting by the door, camera in hand. “It’s time to walk down, this is…” You gave Juliet a single nod, stepping to the door, which was half open. “Here we go.” 

---

 “Wait until you hear the music start, and then you can go through the doors.” The young woman - Avery - the one that you’d spoken to over the phone, was waiting with you in the hallway, a small earpiece visible at the side of her head. Juliet had left you in the hallway after giving you a tight hug and whispering “good luck” into your ear, and you’d made the short walk from the dressing room to the hallway with Avery, stomach twisting with each step. I’m nervous, but… why? You wanted to marry Logan, and knew that he wouldn’t have asked you to marry him if he hadn’t wanted it too, but that didn’t mean you were totally ready for what was coming. After tonight, it’s… 

 “Have you seen him? Is he -” She laughed, reaching out and squeezing your shoulder. “I -” 

 “Yes. He looks…” Avery trailed off, smiling and blinking a few times. “Look, I am happily married, but if I knew that someone like Logan was waiting in the next room for me? I wouldn’t turn it down.” You laughed, the sound loud, and then clapped a hand over your mouth, eyebrows shooting up. Oops. “He looks incredible, and so do you.” She leaned in, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “And he’s just as nervous as you are.” He is? Before you could reply, you heard the music she’d mentioned, and felt you heart thump one final time. “That’s you... you ready?” You let out a breath, closing your eyes for a few seconds. Am I? Behind the closed lids, you saw Logan’s face flash - the way you’d seen him for the first time; flustered and expectant, fingertips tapping against the surface of an airline counter. The second my life changed. 

 “I’m ready.” You opened your eyes again, straightening your shoulders, and swallowed. “So ready.” She pushed you gently, whispering that she’d be right behind you, and even though you heard the quiet clicking of the camera shutter as you took the few steps toward the open doorway, you heard nothing after you stepped into it, barely even seeing the dark, stained wooden beams that made the interior of the chapel into something that could have looked natural in Sweetwater. Logan. Oh, Logan. Look at you.

 He stood at the end of the aisle, hands behind his back, and before you could fully react to the sight of him, you watched him sway slightly on his feet, his eyes widening as he dropped his hands to his sides,. You stepped toward him, your fingers wrapped tightly around the stems of your bouquet; a small assortment of white roses and calla lilies, the latter tinged blue. He does look… Your heartbeat quickened as you got closer to Logan, but you were still focused on his face - on the way he’d trimmed his beard neatly without losing the fullness, the way his hair was swept back from his face - but not perfectly in place, the curl behind  his ear unruly as always, on the way his eyes were the same warm brown from the balcony that morning, yet they were focused on you, too. Hi, Logan. 

 By the time you reached him, your nerves had subsided, and though you were still in disbelief, even after two years of dating the man, that you were standing in front of him, waiting for him to make you his wife, you were certain that you were making the right decision. You felt a hand on your arm, glancing away from Logan for the first time as the music ended, and saw Juliet nod at you, gesturing for your bouquet from her place to your left. Oh, that’s… yeah. She took it from you and as you turned back to face Logan, you watched his lips part, the lower one trembling just enough for you to see it. “You look beautiful.” Three words were all he could manage before you watched tears start to leak from his shining eyes, both of them blinking shut as he lowered his head. “Gorgeous.” The word was nothing more than a whisper, and with a smile on your lips, you reached forward, using the knuckles of your pointer finger against his chin to urge his head back up, encouraging him to look at you. C’mon, Delos.

 “Thanks, Lo.” Removing your hand from his chin, your smile widened as you swept a thumb over one of his cheeks and then the other, drying them. He’s crying, I… It was all the encouragement you needed to continue what you were saying. “Let’s do this before you change your mind.” You winked at him as you ended the sentence, and that’s all it took - Logan laughed, his cheeks rounding out as he crushed you against his chest, arms tight around your body. “You look amazing, Logan.” You took a deep breath as you pulled away from him, Logan’s hands sliding down your arms until they reached your wrists, squeezing. He paused only for a second before he took your hands in his, both thumbs moving over the backs of your hands. 

 “Never gonna change my mind.” He spoke quietly, still staring at you, and after a few seconds of silence, he turned his head to look at the officiant, giving the man a single nod. “We’re ready.” Logan’s attention back on you, you tried to pay attention to what the man was saying, but all you could focus on was the fact  that you were in a chapel with Logan, standing in front of him and holding his hands - ready to marry him. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You realized the truth of your situation as the officiant spoke about finding the person that made sense with you, one that was always willing to share in successes as well as failures, the good times and the bad. You could tell that Logan was having as difficult a time as you focusing on what was being said, but it wasn’t until you felt his grip on your hands tighten that you were brought back to the present, startled out of your thoughts by Logan’s next words. “Wait a minute.” The officiant froze mid sentence, and so did you, waiting. What? He pulled a hand out of your grip, reaching up to take your earlobe between his fingers. “Are these…” His eyes darted away from you, and you saw Juliet nodding out of the corner of one eye, Logan’s brown eyes flooding with gratitude and surprise. “Oh, Jesus, she’s... ” 

 He looked down again and you lost it - the tears coursing down your face as you linked your fingers with Logan’s, the hand near your face moving to your neck, his long fingers curling against it.  “Surprise, Logan.” Juliet’s quiet voice was barely audible over your tears, but Logan spoke again and everything stopped. 

 “She’s here. Even though she can’t be… ” You looked back up at him, noticing that he was crying again too, his nose wrinkled, but the look in his eyes warmer than you’d ever seen it. “And you’re here, and I’m here, and … this is all that matters.” You nodded, agreeing with him as he looked away, focusing again on the man. “We don’t need to repeat everything after you right away, I just… there’s some things I…” The officiant gestured to the two of you with both hands, taking a step back, and then Logan’s gaze returned to you. He took a moment to compose himself and then licked his lips, swallowing. “Do you remember the first thing you said to me?” After a short pause, you nodded, opening your mouth to reply. “I do. I remember what you said and where you were when you said it. I remember how irritated I was that you - a stranger - were callin’ me out in an airport.” Yeah, I shouldn’t have… “But it… the more I talked to you, the more I got to know you, I wouldn’t have wanted anything else.” Logan stepped closer, and you could do nothing but focus on him, on the way he smelled - on the way he took up all the space in the room, leaving you with no option but to get caught up in him - more and more each second. “I wanted to kiss you in that bar, even before that first drink was gone.” I know that, because I… “But I’m glad I didn’t, because if I had, we wouldn’t be here.” 

 “What?” He smiled, removing the hand from your neck and using it to tuck hair behind your ear, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Logan, I -” He said your name, the intensity in his voice startling you. 

 “I knew that night, that first night, before you knocked on my door in the dark, before we played that game, before you mixed my drink with your finger that I wanted to know you, and kissin’ you in that airport would have changed everything.” Would it? “You stepped out onto that balcony without knowin’ I’d follow you, but the truth is that even after a few hours, I woulda followed you across that beach if you’d asked.” He swallowed. “I promise to keep you safe. I promise to make sure you always feel … that you’ll always matter.” You blinked back more tears, waiting. I guess we’re… “You’ll always know exactly how I feel and what I want.” Your hand rose, palm flattening against the material of his shirt, right between the lapels of his jacket, next to the pale blue calla lily that he wore. He’s… his heart is… “I promise to give you everything you need for the rest of my life.” He grinned at you, hand sliding around to the back of your head and tugging on your ponytail gently, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. “Anything you want, for as long as you want me, because...you’re it. This is it, for me.” 

 Logan fell silent, taking a deep breath. “Anything else, Logan?” The officiant cleared his throat, but Logan shook his head. 

 “A lot more, but I’ll tell her later, when it’s just the two of us.” Oh. You heard Mark cough quietly, and you ducked your head, feeling your cheeks growing warm. Oh man… I… he… it’s my turn. 

 “Logan.” The tips of your fingers curled against his chest, and he tightened his grip on your hand in return. “I was… afraid to get to know you, especially when I figured out…” Take your time. “Relationships aren’t always… good, and I know that, but disappointing you was never… was never an option for me.” Feeling more confident, you continued. “That first night was…” You remembered taking his hand for the first time, the cold rain soaking both of you and neither of you caring. “I’ve never taken a chance like the one I took with you, like any of the ones that I’ve taken with you in the last two years.” Your eyes wandered around the room, rising to the ceiling for a moment before they met his again. “Every single one of them has been worth it.” You felt relief rolling off of him in waves. “I want to spend the rest of our lives taking chances, Logan. Every minute, every day, every… everything. I love you, and I promise to show you just how much. I… I promise to believe in you, and to trust you, and to be there for you.” I’m making a mess of this, he was so… “No matter what.” You swallowed hard, lifting your hand from his chest and resting your palm against his cheek. “Remember how you said that a proposal should have been the second happiest day of my life and a wedding should have been the first?” He nodded, looking slightly confused. “You’re wrong.” You didn’t give him time to think, continuing. “The happiest day of my life was meeting you in that airport, Logan. This comes close, but… Meeting you was -”

 “Stop.” Logan sounded almost pained, shaking his head back and forth before turning it toward the man standing next to you. “Can we… can we get to the actual vows? I need to kiss her and I don’t know how much longer I can -” Fighting back a laugh, the officiant gestured toward Mark, who reached into his pocket and held out two rings - the diamond studded band that matched your engagement ring and the black band you’d bought earlier. There they are. Taking the glittering band first, the man placed it in Logan’s outstretched palm, telling him to repeat what was said. 

 “I, Logan Isaac Delos take…” You were more focused on the words as Logan said them, his voice strained but filled with happiness, than you were on your surroundings. As he took your hand in his again, the cool metal sliding up your finger and resting against the diamond that Logan had out on your hand for the second time not even 12 hours earlier, you felt your knees wobbling. No. Hold it together. “‘Til death do us part. I do.” He stopped, his eyes on your hands, and you blew out a breath as you realized that he’d done his part - it was your turn. You met the officiant’s eyes, letting him know that you were ready, repeating the first line and then continuing, your voice stronger with each word. This is really happening. 

 “I promise to love you, Logan. And honor you and your family. I promise to support you in any way that you need, for as long as… as long as we’re both living.” You met his eyes again as you slid the ring onto his finger and settled it behind his second knuckle, your heart pounding. “‘Til death do us part. I… definitely do.” The chapel was silent, though you heard a quiet sniffle from behind you as Juliet reacted to what she was watching and hearing. 

 “If there are no objections…” There better not be. The officiant paused, waiting a few seconds, and then continued. “Then let me be the first to congratulate the two of you and introduce Mr. and Mrs. Logan Delos.” Logan swore quietly under his breath at the same time that your knees buckled, but you didn’t fall far. 

Quickly, he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand against the bare skin of your back to pull you close, your arms going around his neck. You heard the officiant telling Logan that he could kiss you, but only barely, the man dipping you backward as the fingers of his other hand disappeared into your hair, pulling your ponytail loose. We’re married. He’s my… Logan kissed you thoroughly - wasting no time in deepening it, his lips moving against yours with a controlled urgency that you knew was only a preview of what you’d get later that night. And every night… I’m… Juliet and Mark were cheering, and you even heard the chapel employees clapping and whistling too, but none of it mattered; Logan was your focus. He has been, ever since… 

 By the time your husband pulled away from you, you were able to stand steadily, though still clinging to him and only allowing him to move as far back as he needed to to look into your eyes - his filled with happiness, the grin on his face radiant. “How’s it feel to be my wife, Mrs. Delos?” 

---

... This is wedding 1 of 3 - and it while this piece stops here, there’s a lot more to come on you wedding night. 

* * * 

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[one-spidey-boii]

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch ten

read ch nine here

masterlist

an; i’ve tried to post this chapter three different times and have had to make a new post all three times, im losing my mind. anyways thank you for your support, have a good day and enjoy :)))

*italics at beginning indicate itty bitty flashback*

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), future smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 3.1k+

peter's pov

long story short- i couldn't throw the knife. or any knife for that matter. i either let go too soon or too late, my footing was wrong, my hips were angled incorrectly, blah blah blah. i knew edie was trying to make me feel better by blaming all those other factors, but it was just me. i'm not made for the knife throwing trade and that's okay.

what wasn't okay was that when i threw my first knife—the obsidian one—i missed horribly and ended up shattering the tip.

edie and i both run for the fallen object and she got to it first, cradling the shards in her hands. i look at her with innocent eyes and a coy smile, "im sorry?" i try to play if off, despite how horrible i felt in the pit of my stomach.

she wipes away her irritated grimace, "nobody's perfect?" she says, more of a question, still a little irked at the broken blade.

i spent the rest of the early morning throwing only steel, but still- i missed every time.

now late afternoon, edie and i are laying on the couch with our heads in the middle and our feet dangling over each armrest. we've been taking turns showing each other videos we saved on instagram, laughing immaturely at the childish jokes. her wavy hair falls into my eyes every time she adjusts her head on the cushion, which is a lot, but i don't mind. i enjoy the feeling of her next to me.

"here, here. look at this one!" she chirps as she pulled up a photo of a chubby cat trying to jump up onto the bed. he misses every time. "it kind of reminds of someone i know..." she trails off, poking fun at my failed attempts earlier in the day. i reach my hand over and flick her nose and my eyes light up at the way she scrunches it up.

"oh god, don't do that peter!" she squeaks out before she sits up and grabs desperately for a tissue to sneeze into. i roll my head back, stretching my neck all the way and look at her upside down, laughing at her reaction to the nose boop i gave her. she turns around after wiping her nose and tosses the used tissue at me. it's my turn to squeak as i shuffle away from the balled up paper.

"yuck! girl cooties!" i tease at her and kick the tissue off the couch with my foot. edie rolls her eyes at me as she bends down to grab it and throw it away in the nearby waste bin. when she straightens back up, a wild spark twinkles in her eyes. i perk a brow up at her.

"whaaaat do you think you're doing?" i ask, eyeing her change in behavior. without a word she pounces on top of me, pinning me down to the couch. i squirm beneath her strong hold, but she has my hands trapped against my legs with her thighs that rest on either side of my hips. i'm shocked at how quickly she was able to pin me down, her movements so sharp and unpredictable.

"cooties, huh?" she whispers and lowers her face to level with mine. i hum a 'mhm' and swallow thickly at her close proximity. we haven't been in this position since we shared our first kiss, both of us choosing to just tease each other since then to see who would break first.

her eyelids drop low and she looks at me through her thick lashes. they're so dark against her cool skin. i find myself wanting to run my fingers around the edges of them, to feel them flutter at my touch. but no, i'm not the one in charge here.

edie brings her hand up to my lips, tracing over them with two delicate fingers. she tugs on my bottom lip gently, her eyes never leaving mine. we stay there for a moment, our breaths mingling and matching as we fall into pace with each other. i tense up as her fingers slide from my lips to my check, and down to my jaw to gently caress it. she leans in impossibly closer.

"do you wanna kiss?" she whispers, her plump lips barely grazing mine. almost drawn by a magnetic force, my hips lift to get some kind of relief from the contact, or lack thereof. she tightens her steel grip on my limbs and connects our hips roughly, challenging my actions with a face that lets me know she isn't afraid to play along with my games.

i respond lamely, with a stuttering, "o-okay." edie smiles, i shiver.

"close your eyes." she demands.

of course if i do it without question, pushing away the thoughts of just how smitten i am with her.

i can feel her lips graze mine, so so soft it makes me sick. i move to close the gap, but every time i try she pulls away, avoiding the embrace with a cheeky chuckle. i sigh, but kept my eyes closed, wanting to prove that i'll do what she asks for her lips on mine. her lips do come, but they leave small pecks everywhere but on my own. my throat lets out a sound that makes my cheeks flush and her teasing gets worse.

the thumping of my heart in my ears clouds my senses until finally, my lips are met with something sweet. it's sickening and soft and...chocolatey?

edie rises up and out of my lap in a second, her body erupting into fits of laughter as she watches me open my eyes and chew the chocolate kiss with a shocked and bemused smile. she falls onto the couch next me, keeping her distance as i swallow in disbelief.

"hmm, very clever." i mumble. i will admit the chocolate is a nice touch, but i want what i was promised.

both of my hands grip each of her wrists, too fast for her to slip out of reach. i join both of her hands in one of my own as i pull her to me and push her back into the couch cushions. she sinks into them with a small 'o' across her lips and her eyes are wide and curious. i lean down and capture her lips in mine, the kiss is firm, but filled with warm emotions that float between us.

i keep her wrists together and stretch them above her head. edie's back arches into my chest and i can't help but smirk into the kiss. my mind races through all the moments i wished i could have pulled her to me and shut her up with my lips. now that we're here in this miracle of a moment, my brain can't wrap around how it came to be.

i bite her bottom lip and tug ever so slightly, but it's enough to pull a soft moan out of her. edie begins to tug against the restraints of my hand. i simply tighten my grip and move to kiss more of her body, trailing down her neck and collar bones. she shudders.

"peter, please. i wanna touch you." she breathily whispers in my ear, her lips barely grazing the shell.

i pull away at her words and look at her face. it's red and flustered, her eyes are half-lidded and filled with lust. she showcases a small, lazy smile across her swollen lips. i raise my other hand that had been resting on her hip up to her lips. they're soft and wet and soon my pointer and middle finger slip in between them.

she takes them gracefully, her tongue swirling around my fingers as she sucks on them with a grin. i scoff in disbelief at the girl beneath me. just days ago i was afraid to touch her, to see her, and now she's here doing things with me—to me—that i could only ever indulge in my head. and now all i can think is mine. she is mine.

as i slide my finger out from her mouth, i rest my hand on her cheek and pull in close once more, "you're amazing." i whisper against her lips. she just smiles.

with my moment of weakness, she turns the tables on me in the blink of an eye. edie releases her hands from my grip and rolls me off of her and onto the floor. i groan at the sudden impact and hold my hands over my stomach in shock. once again she rests on top of me.

"how is it that we always end up here?" i laugh, gesturing to our current position. she shrugs.

"don't you like me here?" she teases.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

both of our hearts jump out of our chests at the sudden interruption, but instead of scrambling away, edie sits herself down completely in my lap and reaches for her phone that's face up on the arm of the couch. she swipes a button and holds it up to her ear.

"mr. stark? hello, sir." she chirps, seeming to have regained her composure without a hitch. i, however, am beginning to squirm underneath her. i mean, come on, she's sitting on my crotch.

i move to sit up, but edie places a firm hand on my chest and slams me back down on the floor with a small thud.

"hmm? oh yeah, peter's around." my eyes bug out of my skull and i shake my head furiously. there's no way i'm talking to mr. stark while she's on top of me. that man knows practically everything, and if he doesn't know something now, he'll find out soon enough. i squirm underneath her and try to shimmy away, but she stays put and won't let me move.

"sure, you can talk to him. i just gotta go find him." she's talking as if nothing bad could happen right now, while as my mind was flying through all the ways mr. stark could kill me and no one would ever know. suddenly, the hand on my chest slips down to the waistline of my sweatpants. i give edie a serious glare, pleading her not to go any farther. i'm already painfully hard from our activities a few minutes ago, and surely this teasing isn't helping my case.

"peter? where are you?" edie holds the phone away from her face and calls out into the otherwise empty room. as she does this, her hand finally comes to rest fully on my crotch and she begins palming me through my pants, "oh, there you are." she says into the phone sweetly, while i stifle a groan.

"here he is, mr. stark." edie brings the phone to my ear and holds it there, halting my silent pleas for her to stop.

"peter? are you there? why can’t you answer your own damn phone? i gave it to you for that specific reas-" tony's voice booms through the phone and my body stiffens. edie is still touching me and i feel like i'm on fire.

"m-mr. stark, hi! yep, it's me peter." i choke into the phone. edie lets go of the phone and i adjust myself to hold it between my ear and my shoulder. i move my hands to grab her hips hard, hoping she'll pick up on my warning.

"yes. yes, i got that. anyway, peter, i'm gonna ask you something and you need to be honest with me. is edie okay? i mean, does she seem like she's getting better?" his concerned voice only distracts me for a second before edie begins lowering herself down my body so that she rests between my legs.

"o-oh god. edie!" i says her name through clenched teeth. she stares back at me with doe eyes and lifts my shirt up to expose my stomach. her hands dance down my sides and she only breaks eye contact to leave a soft kiss right above my pant line.

"yes, peter. edie. what the hell is going on with you?" tony asks, suspicion lacing through his words.

my hands are now in edie's hair, grabbing fistfuls of it as she slips her fingers underneath the waistband. my breath hitches in my throat at her actions. why the hell is she choosing now of all times to do something like this?

"edie is good. she's really good. really really good." i mumble, no longer aware of how my words were meddling together. edie slides my sweatpants down my hips and i naturally lift them up to assist her in taking the article of clothing off. god i'm so hard. it's beginning to get uncomfortable.

"okay...good. can i talk to her now?" mr. stark's tone is unnerving. i know he knows something is up.

i can feel edie's fingers hook under the band of my boxers. at that moment, everything went out the window as i let out the most awful, embarrassingly obvious moan. mr. stark clears his throat on the other end of the phone and i want to throw the device across the room.

edie pulls away from me and has the evilest smile on her lips, confirming that she had done this to get that particular reaction out of me. i look at her in defeat, feeling silly and exposed. she crawls back up my body and kisses the corner of my lips, lingering there just enough to make me want more, and she takes the phone from my ear.

"hey, mr. stark, i'm back." she speaks into the phone with ease and shoots up onto her feet, letting them take her to another room.

i stare at the ceiling, wide-eyed and almost in pain from my situation downstairs. i blindly reach for a pillow on the couch and bring it to my face so i can scream as loud as i can into nothingness.

-

my suit feels tighter than usual, more constricting as i crouch on a random roof top in the middle of new york city. i snuck out of the compound shortly after edie left to finish her phone call and i got to it straight away.

from what i remember of edie's story from that night, she was attacked by two people- a man and a woman. my mind reels at just how many people live in new york (8.623 million and climbing). my only hope for finding these people is to patrol, all night, for as long as possible.

i haven't slept since yesterday. i was too busy throwing knives and oogling edie to even get a lick of sleep in. not that i mind, but i know i can only stay out so long tonight before i become drunk from lack of rest. i can already feel it coming, the sensation of my brain swishing around my head and settling at the bottom.

i snap myself out of it, determined to go through as much of the city as i can. i thought i had them a few buildings back, but it turned out to be an older couple making out in the alleyway, yikes. i got outta their way real quick.

i shoot a web at the next building and hoist myself over the edge, letting my weight swing me through the air before shooting another one with my other arm. i love swinging. its something only i can do, and i take pride in that. my head clears and my senses get kicked up to eleven, allowing me to do my job the way it should be done.

i fling myself through the streets, stretching my arms high above my head to aim at anything and everything. i think back to when i was first teaching myself to swing, the constant misses and face-plants make me scrunch my face up. gosh, how embarrassing. nevertheless, i smile at how far i've come.

i come to a stop on another random building a few blocks from where i started. the air bites at my skin, making goosebumps appear underneath my suit. i rub my hands up and down my arms and take in my new surroundings. the building i landed on is shorter than those around it, i'm no more than ten stories up.

my ears start to prickle at a nearby noise and i turn my attention to the sound. down in the alleyway, a group of people stand in a circle around something on the ground. i lean forward to try and get a closer look, but i'm too far away to make anything out completely. i hop over the edge of the building and begin to crawl down the side of it until i can see clearly.

i gasp when i see what they're standing around. a small grey kitten mewls from the center of the circle. it's body is unbelievably tiny and frail and it's just staring at them. the people begin to talk to each other, starting to argue and raise their voices. i pick up a few words like 'kick' and 'burn' and 'eat' and my stomach drops.

without a second thought, i'm letting go of the wall and dropping down in the middle of the circle, careful not to step on the small creature between my feet. i look around at the people and notice how disheveled they are. none of their clothes match and they all have ratty hair and bad breath. i puff out my chest.

"i have to ask you lot to leave the area immediately," i pause and take in their bored expressions, "now...scram!" i finish and cringe to myself when they don't move. one man steps forward and offers a grimy smile, he doesn't have very many teeth left.

"who gave you the right?" the man sputters out and points a crooked finger in my face.

"look guys i don't know what you were planning to do here, but it's over now." i say and lean down to gently pick up the kitten. it meows and nuzzles it's head into the crook of my arm. the group of people begin to back away and scurry off whilst leaving some choice words behind for me. i ignore them and use my free arm to shoot a web and land back on top of the building. i lower my chin to get a good look at the tiny kitten.

"hey there, little one. what am i gonna do with you now?" i whisper and chuckle when she stretches her limbs and yawns. she peers back up at me with big eyes that look like two perfectly polished gold coins, "i guess there's really only one option," i coo at her and scratch her softly under her chin, "i hope edie likes cats."

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit @kitykatnumber @franksholland @goddamnit5sos @thehugslut @fandom-phaser

[cilliansaccent]

Class of Temptation - CHAPTER TWO

Leave a like, reblog or comment below to show your support and love! Enjoy…

PLEASE READ:

No mention of Cillian’s true family or relatives. All names are made up.

This is a TEACHER x STUDENT fanfiction, it’s going to be kinky and very taboo!

I will write whenever the mood grabs me, so I apologise if there are long breaks between chapters :)

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Background: Tessa is a twenty-three-year-old model from a broken-up family, living in London with her best friend and starting a course on Drama and Theatre. Though, when she gets closer to the super hot Mr Murphy who is her much older teacher, there is a battle of lust and love between them. They’ll have to figure out what to do with their tight relationship as other issues begin to rise and nip at their heels…

Word Count: 2,196

!!Warnings!!: None.

Chapter Name: Mr Murphy

Brief Chapter Outline: Tessa attends Orientation week at her selected University and explores the campus and the courses and clubs it offers. She then goes to her info session for her Drama course and finds herself meeting a very handsome man... 

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A few days had passed since her birthday and today was Orientation week at the selected Uni Tessa had picked. She had picked out a casual outfit, black shorts and a champagne silk blouse with flared short sleeves. She added low cut converse shoes and pulled her hair up in a high pony-tail. 

She threw on her small backpack that had her keys, wallet, phone and a notepad in case she needed to take some notes down. Esther would meet with her by the afternoon at the uni. 

Tessa headed off, she had already posted a pic of herself on Instagram and smiled at the comments. She occasionally got some hate but she just ignored them. 

As she sat on the train, she began to contemplate. Her thoughts wandered to the card she received from her father and the conversation she had with Mila about it. Her father had been right, Mila and he had been in contact for almost three years now and seemed to be on good terms. 

Aria, on the other hand, had not taken the news so well when Mila had told her a few months back. Yet, Tess did not really care. The only thing she didn't like was that Mila gave their shit father her address to her apartment. 

Tessa had vowed that day she left she would not ever keep in contact with him or let him know her whereabouts. But so much for that. She hoped she would not see another letter again if she did she would be thoroughly mad. 

She made sure she told Mila to never give anything to their father which resulted in a heated argument and Mila hung up on her. 

Tessa sighed as she got off the train and headed up to the street above. She gave herself a moment and admired the bustling crowd of tourists and workers. Many would say London was too hectic and crazy but Tessa loved the fast-paced atmosphere of it. And the photos always looked so good when she took them. 

Sydney had been where she was birthed. She only remembered a bit of it, living along a coastline in a pretty small home. But the rest it was a blur of screaming and yelling when it came to her father and her birth mother. 

The university came into view and she headed inside as she was handed pamphlets and a bag. There was a tour guide but she wanted to do this on her own, find her own way around. There was a lot of people, many younger girls and boys with their families. It made her sad that she had to do this without some parent beside her, no smiling father or a proud mother. 

Tessa trudged on, checking out the many other courses the uni offered and talked to the people. More hand-outs she took before she found where she could check out the clubs they offered. She made sure to sign up for the art club, a chilled afternoon once a week where a group gathered and just drew and talked. 

She then went to the orchestra club and introduced herself to the large group. They seemed super keen that she would be joining them and managed to get their social handles. She laughed when they were shocked to see she was an elite model and they were gushing, especially the girls. 

After that, Tessa went to listen in on some other courses that spiked her interest and took notes down. Then off she went to her drama talk. 

People were walking out of the lecture room as she came in, it seemed to be finished. 

"Oh, did I miss it?" She frowned as she spotted a man bent down and retrieving something from his bag. 

The man turned as he straightened himself. He was dressed in skinny black jeans, a green shirt with a low cut V neck and a casual suit jacket in which he was just taking off. 

"You did. But no worries, there will be another in fifteen minutes. Care to hang around." He said in his Irish accent, a sweet smile graced that sharp cut face. 

Tessa was mesmerised by how clear his blue eyes were, "Oh, uh, okay. Sorry." She laughed nervously as she awkwardly sat down. 

"You don't need to sit that far, come on. Come upfront." He waved her over, taking a sip of his water bottle. 

Tessa hesitated but got up as she made her way over to the front. 

"I'm Cillian Murphy," He said, holding his hand out to her. 

"U-Uh... I'm Tessa." She took his hand. It was strong and firm once she sat down, his flashy watch curled around a veined wrist.  

"Nice to meet you, Tessa. So you've picked Drama and Theatre, hm?" He took a seat in front of her. He had a thick head of hair which was parted at the side and seemed to curl over his forehead. She also noticed the freckles that dusted his buttoned nose and pale cheeks. 

But most importantly she was shocked to actually meet the famous man, "Yeah. I have. I want to go, um, into a different pathway." She nodded. 

"Oh? Have you studied before?" He sat back, arms loosely folded over his chest. His gentle smile never fading. 

"No. Never." She shook her head. 

"You work then? You seem very well dressed." He mused. 

"I'm a model. I work for various fashion brands." She felt her nerves kick in, she wasn't the type to just accept compliments from people she didn't know. It made her feel weird. 

Cillian seemed to see the discomfort in her and sighed, "Sorry. I don't mean to come across as overbearing or too straightforward. But a model, hey? That's alright." He said in a more gentler tone. 

"Mhm. I love it, it's fun. But I want more so drama has been something I've always wanted to do. So I finally took that chance." Tessa replied not really meeting his gaze. 

"Good, good. Well, I'll be teaching the class, I got good experience so you'll be learning from the best." He winked at her as he stood, "I gotta go freshen myself up. Rest here and we'll get the info session started soon." He said before he left her alone in the room. 

Tessa eased back in the chair as her shoulders finally relaxed. That was super intense but it might just be her racing nerves. It was busy today and a lot going on. 

Especially with a man, she would not ever dream of meeting. She had seen him in a couple of films and he was exceptionally great. She would hope to be just as good as he but first thing first was that she had to overcome her fear of... well, acting in front of people. 

Modelling was kind of different. All she had to do was strut down the catwalk in her outfit, pose and walk off. She wasn't in the spotlight for a long time, only briefly for photos. Or when it came to photoshoots she was surrounded by people she knew and wasn't afraid of showing her body off or being up against a man or a woman. 

Tessa would not let her fear of strangers overwhelm her. She had to deal with this before, a little more different but she would do this. She had to. The only way to make a better life for herself. 

People began to filter in and it was soon pretty full. Cillian had returned and clapped his hands together, "Well, it looks like a full house so I can start." He said and got right into it. 

He took them through the structure of the course, what to expect, what materials were needed. There was a project to be done by the end of the first year, to work as a whole class and create a play and perform it. 

This would be interesting, she thought, writing down her notes. Three years worth. It was very daunting. 

Though she really enjoyed Cillian's passion, he spoke from the heart and seemed like a really cool man. She looked forward to the class if he was going to be like this. 

"I do hope to see some you guys in class, thank you for coming. Catch ya later." He smiled and people stood up and filed out. 

"So you thinking of enrolling?" Cillian brought his attention back to Tessa who had a page full of notes. 

"I already am. Just wanted to come in and listen to make sure I picked the course I want to do." She looked up and met those gorgeous eyes. He had put on his brown and black spotted glasses. He really did look like the drama type of teacher. 

"Oh yeah? You don't got any questions?" He asked. 

"Uhm... You mentioned a big project to be done by the end of the first year. What is that like?" She asked it was the only thing that worried her. 

"Well, it's a task the board have made to bring out teamwork in a group. Usually, when you are working on a piece, you are working with many other people. So we want to see how well you interact with others off stage and on stage as well." He explained. 

"Oh, okay. I see. And I'm guessing we will get notified of the exam as well?" She asked. 

"Yeah. Of course," He nodded, "Closer to the end of each term you will be notified." 

"Sorry for the silly questions. I-I just want to know." She said, holding her back close as if it may protect her. 

"No question is silly. Ask as many as you want." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Any more?" 

"None, thank you." She let out a soft sigh. 

"Alright. Well, I'll see you when the semester starts. Nice meeting you, Miss Tessa." He held out his hand and she took it and shook. 

"Nice meeting you too, Mr Murphy." She blushed a little. 

"Just Cillian, please." He said with a soft laugh. 

"Okay, Cillian. See you now." She said and turned to head out of the room. 

She spent the rest of her morning attending other information sessions of other classes and took a small tour with a group around campus. 

Esther called her up to tell Tessa she was here so on she went to the main gates to find her best friend all dolled up. 

"Hey!" Esther smiled and they embraced. 

"Hi, how was the shoot?" Tessa asked her. 

"Really good. I got to keep some of the lingerie that was used." She giggled. "Wearing it right now." She wiggled her eyebrows at her. 

"Oh," Tessa gave her a hip bump, "Lucky you." 

"Let's go eat! You gotta talk to me about today." Esther said as they headed to a Thai restaurant. 

Once they sat, checked the menu and ordered, Esther had her full attention on Tessa. "So, how was it?" 

"It was good. The campus is so nice! So green, there's like a giant park next to it. I went to some info sessions on other classes to see what they were like. But, oh my god." Tessa said in an excited tone, "You would not believe who is my drama teacher." 

Esther raised her brow, "Who?" She was confused. 

"You know that hot actor, that one played in Batman as the evil guy scarecrow? Inception? And that new movie, Anna?" Tessa said. 

Esther's eyes widened, "No fucking way." She said. 

"Yes fucking way! It's him, Cillian Murphy." Tessa said with equal excitement. 

"Holy fuck! Oh my god. Oh. My. God." Esther was shaking with such enthusiasm. "That is gonna be so awesome. Does he look like how he looks in the movie?" Esther leaned forward. 

"Oh fuck he does. He wears glasses too. Unbelievable. At first, I didn't really like, put it together but when he spoke I knew instantly who he was. He was so kind to, but I was still so nervous." Tessa smiled a little. 

"So he'll be teaching the class. What's the class like?" Esther continued. 

"Three years and at the end of the first year we gotta have a play ready to showcase." Tessa shuddered. "That's really intense." 

"Oh, it sounds like it. But you're gonna ace it! I know you will." Esther reached over and took her hands. 

"Yeah?" Tessa looked up and met her pretty eyes. 

"Yeah. I believe in you." Esther kissed her hands and pulled back as their food came. "I've always believed in you from the moment we met. I know you can do this." 

Tessa blushed, "Thank you, Esther. Means a lot." She said before they ate and chatted about Esther's shoot. After they ate they headed back to central London where the agency was and continued on with some other shoots they had to do for the rest of the afternoon that went well into the evening. 

Tessa was glad to be back home and spend the night cuddled up with Esther watching a TV Show. The two girls fell asleep like that wrapped in a light blanket. 

[whumphoarder]

Viral Wisdom

Summary: When Peter’s dentist decides the kid’s impacted wisdom teeth need to go, Tony offers to have the surgery done at the compound. Honestly, Peter is looking forward to it. After all, he’s seen the viral videos—he’s pretty sure he knows what to expect.

What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 2700

Genre: Hurt/comfort, whump, minor surgery, fluff

A/N: Thanks to @sallyidss and @xxx-cat-xxx for beta reading!

Link to read on Ao3

“You’ve gotta video it, Mr. Stark,” Peter says between bites of the pizza he’s currently wolfing down as part of what he and Tony have jokingly dubbed ‘The Last Supper’. The kid will be getting all four of his wisdom teeth removed at eight o’clock sharp the next morning, and being a teenage boy with an absurdly fast enhanced metabolism means Peter has decided the twelve-hour mandatory fasting period before surgery will be the worst part of the whole procedure.

Tony raises his eyebrows in mock offense. “Oh I’ve gotta, do I?”

Peter grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “It’s gonna be awesome. Ned’s cousin got hers out last December, and when she woke up she was so high from the anesthesia that she started accusing the dentist of stealing her teeth and selling them to the tooth fairy on the black market.” He sticks the last bite of his pizza slice in his mouth. “Her mom filmed it and the video went like, viral.”

“You know,” Tony remarks. “Hate to burst your bubble, kid, but I got my wisdom teeth out during my senior year at MIT and I don’t remember anything like this happening. Just a lot of eating applesauce and mashed potatoes while resembling Alvin the Chipmunk.”

“No, no it’s a thing,” Peter insists. “These videos are like, everywhere. I saw this one where this lady woke up and forgot she was married but suddenly noticed her wedding ring and started freaking out, thinking her husband had just proposed. But they had been married already for like, three years.”

Shaking his head, Tony huffs. “You are literally a superhero with a secret identity and you think it’s a good idea to get wildly high on medication and then have me film whatever crap comes out of your mouth so you can post it on, what, Facebook?”

“Ha, Facebook,” Peter snorts as he reaches for another slice. “Good one, Mr. Stark. No one uses Facebook anymore.”

X

The next morning, Peter’s not looking quite as excited as he was the previous night. He sits beside Tony in a plastic chair just inside the compound’s Medbay, anxiously texting back and forth with Ned as they wait for the SHIELD appointed oral surgeon and his assistant to finish prepping the procedure room.

When Peter’s dentist decided several weeks back that the impacted teeth had to go, Tony and May agreed it would have to be done at the compound. Peter’s enhanced physiology means that the dosage of anesthesia required to put him out could also take down a moderately-sized elephant. HIPAA protection or not, Tony would rather not have any raised eyebrows from standard medical professionals.

“You hanging in there?” Tony asks casually. The kid’s foot hasn’t stopped tapping once since they sat down and he’s wondering if Peter’s beginning to regret telling May he’d be fine doing this solo while she’s at work. “Ready to make, what is it then, Vine history?”

That remark elicits a short laugh from Peter. “Vine’s dead, Mr. Stark,” he informs. “It was the true tragedy of this generation.”

Tony sighs, exasperated. “Is it YouTube then? Reddit?”

Peter just shrugs. “Something like that.” His gaze lowers back to his lap and he fires off another text to Ned.

FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speakers, so sudden that it startles the kid and nearly causes him to drop the phone: “Dr. Jacobson is ready for you now, Peter.”

“Oh. Already? Wow, okay,” Peter babbles. “Not even 8:00 yet, no need to rush...” he complains as he pockets the phone.

Tony checks his watch. “It’s 7:58, kid,” he scoffs, getting to his feet. “Perks of being the only patient in the building.”

After a second’s hesitation, Peter stands as well and Tony frowns at the shakiness he observes. “You good?” he checks, lightly gripping the kid’s elbow just in case he decides to channel his inner Victorian lady. “I know your blood sugar’s gotta be low, but I promise, as soon as this is over, it’s all the ice cream and pudding you want.”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll be good,” Peter says half-heartedly.

Tony gives his back a little prod to encourage him toward the door. “C’mon kid. Let’s get a move on. Upward and onward and all that jazz...”

Swallowing hard, Peter begins shuffling forward with Tony guiding him along. “So, I’ve never, um, actually had anesthesia before,” he admits. “And, like, what if something… goes wrong?"

Tony softens, for the first time seeing the actual fear lurking beneath Peter’s façade. “Don’t worry—these guys know what they’re doing,” he assures, giving the kid’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Lips pursed, Peter nods a few times. “Yeah. Yeah of course. Okay. I guess I’ll just, go on back there and, uh...“

“Do you want me to stay until they put you under?” Tony offers.

A look of relief instantly washes over Peter and he nods vigorously before stopping to quickly add in a tone of forced nonchalance, “But like, only if you don’t mind.”

Tony chuckles. “I think I can swing it.”

X

The IV placement is a little rough. Peter’s never been a fan of needles, but Tony distracts him by telling him to close his eyes and recite the second row of the periodic table. Once the saline is flowing, the assistant places an oxygen cannula under his nose.

Peter glances up at the dentist. “So, have you ever had someone say something, like, really inappropriate when they wake up?” he asks.

Jacobson chuckles drily. “Oh yes. I actually have a very amusing anecdote about that.”

Both Tony and Peter look at him expectantly, but the doctor just continues preparing his instruments.

“So, uh, what happened?” Peter asks finally.

Jacobson’s eyes narrow. “That is confidential information.”

Peter blinks at him. “Oh. Uh, of course.”

While the surgeon moves over to grab something from the counter, the assistant—a woman probably in her early thirties whose name badge reads ‘Megan’—gives a small laugh. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It can’t make you say anything you weren’t already thinking on some level.”

Peter gulps. “Great.” Turning to Tony, he says, “Uh, you know, on second thought, maybe we don’t need this on video…”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “Oh no, no take backs. In about an hour, you’ll be trending on Twitter. Or wherever the hell this is going.”

Before Peter can say anything, Megan gives a warning of, “Alright, here we go.” Then she injects the anesthesia into the IV port.

The effect is nearly instantaneous. “Whoa…” Peter mutters, shooting his mentor a nervous look. “Feels… weird.”

“You’re fine, Pete,” Tony promises. “I’ll be waiting right outside until you wake up.”

“Yeah…” he breathes out, eyelids drooping. “And ’s’goin’ on Instagram, Mr. Stark…”

A few moments later, the kid is out.

X

“Boss, the surgery is complete,” FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speakers in the waiting area. “The extractions went well. Peter has just regained consciousness and has been transferred to the recovery area.”

“Thanks, FRI.” Getting to his feet from the plastic chair, Tony closes out of the Minesweeper app on his phone and opens the camera one instead. “Guess it’s showtime…”

Already filming, Tony pushes open the door and makes his way back to the small room off to the side of the procedure area. Peter is sitting propped up on a cot as Megan drapes a blanket over him. Tightly rolled wads of cotton are sticking out of his mouth and his eyes are droopy and unfocused.

The assistant gives Tony a small smile. “He did great,” she assures in a quiet voice. “We’ll be right in the other room cleaning up if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Tony tells her before turning his attention back to Peter and pulling up one of the stools to sit on. “Hey kid,” he greets. “How’s life with four gaping holes in your face?”

“Uhhh… M’s’r St’rk?” Peter manages to mumble, blinking a few times.

“The one and only,” Tony replies, his camera still trained on the kid. “Any dental conspiracy theories you wanna share with the audience? Declarations of affection you care to make?”

Peter’s face screws up into a weak sort of frown. “Wha…?”

Tony shakes his head slowly, chuckling to himself. “See, what’d I tell you, kid? Anesthesia just isn’t that exciting.”

“Uhhgg…” Peter groans, blinking again. The kid’s expression of utter confusion coupled with his already swelling cheeks is honestly adorable. “I-I don’t… I feel weird, I…”

Smirking, Tony focuses the camera a little closer on Peter’s face, ready to film whatever drug-induced ramblings pour forth from the kid’s lips.

But then all of a sudden, he’s watching tears well up in Peter’s eyes.

Tony’s grin falters. “Pete?”

“Oh god…” Peter draws in a shuddering breath, which comes back out in a choked sob. “I-I didn’... I can’t… I don’ like this...”

All traces of humor immediately dissolve from Tony. “Whoa, hey, you’re alright,” he says. As Peter continues to cry, Tony turns off the camera and shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. Scooting closer to the bed, he takes the kid’s hand. “You’re fine, you’re okay.”

“I-I don’ feel... I, uh...” Peter chokes out between sobs. A bloody wad of cotton falls out of his mouth, which only causes him to cry harder. “Wh-Why ’m I bleedin’?” he cries.

“You just had a few teeth out, no biggie,” Tony assures. He grabs a fresh cotton roll from the table and sticks it in the kid’s mouth. “You’re fine, bud, I promise.”

Still crying, Peter manages to spit out, “Am I... is this… real?”

Tony’s heart clenches, going back to Titan, back to Peter being trapped for five years in some kind of altered state of consciousness. He’s kicking himself for not having realized sooner that something like this might freak him out.

“Ah, kid…” Tony sighs. “Yes, this is real. You’re real. You’re right here with me,” he promises, rubbing his hand up and down over the kid’s arm.

Suddenly Peter’s breath hitches in his throat. “‘m gonna throw up,” he chokes out.

The warning is immediately followed by an unproductive gag. Tony mutters a curse, jumping up and grabbing a plastic emesis basin from the counter. He barely manages to get it under Peter’s chin before the kid makes good on his threat.

“Hey, hey, easy, easy...” Tony says, switching to hold the bin with one hand and place the other on Peter’s back. He winces in sympathy at the bloody cotton and red-tinged strings of bile Peter is spitting out between sobs; he can only imagine how much that has to hurt. “FRIDAY, can you get the doc back in here?” he asks in a low voice.

Pulling in a shuddering breath, Peter glances up from the basin, eyes wide and fearful. “I th-threw up b-blood,” he whimpers, horrified. “...’m I dyin’?”

Aw fuck. “No, no of course not. It’s just from your mouth,” Tony explains, much more calmly than he feels.

The door reopens and Megan is the first to enter. She gives Peter a sympathetic smile as she steps into the room. The surgeon appears a few steps behind, looking totally unfazed by the teary, vomiting teen in the chair before him.

“Ah,” he says with a nod. His tone is factual, though not unkind. “We have a crier.”

“This just happens sometimes, nothing to worry about,” Megan quickly assures. She takes the bin from Tony and hands him an empty one before carefully wiping the tears and vomit off Peter’s face with a paper towel. “Anesthesia can have all kinds of different effects on people.”

Jacobson hums in agreement as he checks Peter’s mouth to ensure his stitches are still holding before giving him fresh gauze to stem the bleeding. The tears have stopped now and embarrassment seems to be rapidly replacing fear as the kid’s primary emotion. Unsure of what else to do, Tony just continues rubbing Peter’s back.

“Everything looks fine,” Jacobson concludes after a moment of looking him over. “You can take him back upstairs now. He’ll probably feel calmer once he’s in a familiar setting.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice. “Sounds good,” he says, grabbing the paper Megan hands him with the discharge instructions as he helps Peter to his feet. “Alright bud,” he says quietly. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

X

After getting Peter situated on the couch in the common area, Tony heads to the kitchen and returns with a tray of soft food selections to offer the kid.

“What are you feeling?” he asks, pointing to each food in turn. “Yogurt? Ice cream? Applesauce? Pudding?”

Peter blinks twice at him. “...Butterscotch puddin’?” he asks hopefully.

Tony scoffs. “No, because I’m not eighty. I’ve got chocolate or vanilla.”

“Oh.” Peter’s face falls. “Don’ want anythin’ then…”

“Nope, not an option,” Tony declares. “You have to take your super spidey-kid painkillers soon and I don’t want them to make you sick.”

“But I ‘ready got sick…” Peter moans.

“And it wasn’t fun, was it?” Tony reasons. “Which is why we’re trying to avoid that.”

“But ‘m not hungry…” Peter whines, turning his head away from his mentor to face the cushion, causing the ice pack to side down from his cheek. “Jus’ wanna sleep…”

Tony peels the lid off one of the vanilla pudding cups and scoops up a spoonful. “C’mon, Pete.” He says, holding it in front of the kid’s closed mouth. “You’re not gonna make me do the airplane thing, are you? Because I will definitely be filming that.”

“Uhhh… no...” Peter groans, finally taking the spoon from him. “No more internet…”

X

It’s been several hours now since Tony managed to bully the kid into choking down enough pudding to take his meds before letting him fall asleep. Aside from the obvious swelling, Peter’s looking far better for having had the nap.

“How are you feeling now?” Tony asks, handing Peter a fresh ice pack.

Peter accepts it from him and presses it to his comically large cheek. “Mortified,” he mumbles. “This is so not going on Instagram…”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know, maybe it should. Like a PSA of sorts for all the kids out there looking to be the next viral sensation.”

“Wonderful,” Peter mutters, rolling his eyes.

Tony pats him on the shoulder. “You know, while you were out, I was looking up some of those videos you mentioned. I see the attraction. Did you watch the one where the black med student called pickled eggs a ‘hood snack’?”

Peter nods.

“Or the red-haired teenager who woke up thinking he was a gangster in Dubai?” Tony goes on.

“Classic,” Peter mutters.

“Or the girl who wanted to go swimming in the painting on the office wall so she could see the fishes?”

Peter waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah…”

“I’m telling you kid, I think there’s a market here…”

X

It’s two days later that Tony finally breaks down and shows the kid the video Rhodey took of him back in ‘87, burned directly off the VHS into FRIDAY’s archives:

A teenage Tony Stark sits on the floor of his dorm room, slumped against a twin-sized mattress. His cheeks are swollen to twice their usual size and drool is running down his chin onto the graph paper notebook he’s scribbling feverishly into.

“Tony, you gotta eat something so you can take your meds, dude,” Rhodey’s voice comes over the recording from off-screen.

“Go ‘way…” Tony groans, waving him off irritably. “‘m busy solvin’ th’… prob’em…”

Rhodey breathes out a heavy sigh. “Okay, for the last time, you can’t ‘solve’ the second law of thermodynamics.” He pauses for a beat. “Especially with a purple crayon.”

Tony looks up at him, eyes unfocused, and gives an almost evil grin. “Maybe you can’t but… I’m… ‘m’ really smart…” He blinks twice, then giggles. “m’ Tony Fuckin’ Stark…”

“Yeah, yeah, and Tony Fucking Stark needs to take his meds...” Rhodey mutters. “So what’s it gonna be, dude? Yogurt or applesauce?”

Tony’s face screws up in apparent thought before he mumbles, “A cheese’urger,” he decides. “Then I solve… gravity.”

Fic Masterlist

For more soft Irondad fics, try:

Dad Level: 3000

You Broke Tony

Sweet Potatoes & Stitches

[skillfulwolfworld]

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook | reader

Summary: Selene is a young 21-year-old who has done the impossible to be a young top producer, top dancer, and singer. Trying to make a name for herself was always hard, especially when she doesn't want handouts from her father is who is a big-time producer too. One day her father calls saying he needs help with a company called Big Hits he just signed on with. What will happen?

Rated: 18+ as for language, future smut and etc.

Author's Note: Welcome be patient with me as I have all this in my head and trying to put it down on here. All are fictional and times will not be accurate. This will be a series hopefully you like it. Thanks

Chapter:2

It was finally Thursday morning, after getting everything together and nonstop on the phone or the laptop. I got everything settled on my end here, yet seeing me right now you would think I don't have everything together. As my grip is tightly on Ash's wrist checking my phone rushing through the airport to make it to our flight with only thirty minutes left to broad.

"I swear this is the last time I listen to you to stop for breakfast." Groaning while I pulled her behind me looking around for B07. Seeing we were at C10 not far I relaxed a little bit before walking a little further.

"Don't blame me for everything. Granted I lost my passport for a minute but we found it." Shrugging as she pulled her hand away and pulled her bright pink Adidas bag upon her shoulder.

"A minute more like 25 minutes. Then we stopped for breakfast. Why do I listen to you at all, especially when we could have missed our flight?" Walking a nice quick pace as I see our flight insight with all the passengers in a line broadening on now.

"Don't start you know as well as I do that a nice fast food meal is great. As the airline food is gross, which we will have to deal with it for 13 hours. " Crossing her arm in her big off the shoulder sweater as she pouted next to me inline. Rolling my eyes as I crouched down opening my black Pink bag pulling our tickets out handing Ash hers. Standing up as I zipped up my bag when we walk forward slowly to broad on.

"Pouting doesn't work on me, Ash. So suck it up buttercup. We made it everything is fine, I'm not mad. Just annoyed but barely anyone here so that's a plus, as we checked in luggage fast upfront." Smiling as I handed the stewardess my ticket walking the runway hall to broad the plane. Scrunching my nose as I walked down smelling all different aromas from perfumes, colognes, burnt rubber, and everything else. They definitely need something to mask all this smell. Hearing Ash bounces behind me when she finally caught up. I walk through the airplane door seeing two Korean female stewardesses dressed in their uniforms greeting us. Bowing my head slightly I greeted back then look down towards my ticket to see what seat I am assigned to. Slowly walking I see I am in seat C1 only my father would get us, the first-class tickets. Pulling my bag off my shoulder I walk and sitting down in my seat. Setting my bag beside my legs I buckle, looking up I see Ash mouth wide open and her eyes wide as she looks around. Laughing she looks to me and sits down in the next seat glaring at me.

"Your Dad got us, first-class seats?" Her voiced raised in a harsh whisper as I began to buckle up I smile.

"Well yeah he and the company did for a couple of reasons it's a long flight, I'm a producer, and plus I'm an only child." Shaking my head as Ash smiles. Before she could speak again the stewardess closed the plane door and began speaking in Korean on safety procedures in case of emergency. Seeing Ash in my side view her face pout as she doesn't understand a word, anyone says. Reaching over I turn on the monitor on the seat in front of her a video pops up with English subtitles of what the flight attendants were going over and saying. Smiling mouthing thank you as she finally relaxes. Pulling my phone out I send a quick text to my Dad that we made to our flight and see him later. Turning my phone off I look out my small window seeing the plane roll backward and get ready to take off shortly.

"Hey, thanks for bringing me along. I know I am a pain in the ass but it really means a lot to me." Grabbing my hand as she smiled when I looked towards her.

"We are a pain in each other ass. So it's all good. But you're my best friend and my best dancer had to bring you along." She smacked my arm as I chuckled. Feeling the plane start taking off we fell quiet. Ash grabbed my hand when we felt the airplane tip-up, no matter how many times I flew I don't think I could ever get used to taking off and landing. After about 10 minutes we felt the airplane level out.

"Thank you everyone choosing to fly with us today. The fasten seatbelt sign is off as you are free to get out any of your electronics to use and roam for a few minutes as this flight will be twelve hours and 20 minutes till we land at Incheon International Airport." The captain's voice is heard from the speaker.

"I'm glad there is a monitor in front of me telling me what he said in English. Cause I didn't understand a damn thing he said." Laughing I looked out the window seeing everything so small will never cease to amaze me. Sighing I grab my bag pulling out my laptop as I set it up to the airline's wifi which is overpriced but gotta get stuff done.

Ash looking over shaking her head as she turns back to her phone probably on Instagram or Twitter. As I hear her speak up as she is still looking down on her phone.

"You never stop working, do you? I mean we are miles above the earth and you are still working." Finally looking up with her green eyes stare into my deep blue eyes.

"You know this is the point of why we are on the airplane right now right? I mean I won't be working the whole flight I am dead ass tired. Just going to see if my Dad can send me any information on anything then go from there. Plus I won't be working the whole time I'll have days off" I start to say when she cut me off.

"Nope, you will work even on your days off. So don't pull that bullshit with me, Selene. I grew up with and around you. Granted I know this is a job but you need to live. Have a life as a 21-year-old." Glaring as she puts her phone down. Sighing I close the laptop I just opened, she is a pain but means well.

"I know but only in the beginning, I promise we will go do stuff. Just let me get everything settled then we will go from there. Pinky promise." Holding my pinky out she stares at it before hooking her slim pale pinky with my tan one. Smiling she nods her head and goes back to her phone. Opening my laptop again I see my Dad sent me a message on Whatsapp.

Dad: Just got your text glad you made it. Hope the flight is well, I know the wifi is bad. Love you.

Me: Bad wifi why overpriced but gotta get work done. So I never asked who is the group I am helping with.

Dad: The group is called Bangtan Sonyeondan or BTS. All the boys' age from the youngest is your age and the oldest is 27.

Me: Good to know I will do some research to know a little bit more about them. I will talk to you later. Love you!

Logging out of WhatsApp I went straight to Google. Typing in BTS about everything I could want to know was there from their fans or news reports. My blue eyes widened with all the information as my thought process went to them being a new band. A fine detail I should have asked. Shaking my head I kept reading seeing all the awards they have won and the success they have had. I need to tell Ash this, looking over I see she already fell asleep, unzipping my bag I pull out my travel blanket and cover her up.

Going back to my laptop I keep searching. 7 members ages ranging from 27 to 21 as Dad said. Seeing as Big Hit has Twitter, I go onto mine. Looking through old posts and recent ones, trying to somehow understand them through this laptop screen. From the bit that would load their music is amazing. So it should be a breeze to work with them on the music. Plus they are hot. I mean besides their music being good their looks only would bring anyone one in. I mean I know I would. Breaking my thoughts. No Selene you can't have a fling you are here for a job nothing more. Shaking my head I log out of everything packing my laptop back up. Looking down at my phone I see 5 hours have passed since we've been in the air. Holy shit. I spent that much time looking them up well doesn't help the loading was slow as hell.

Yawning I pull my hood up on my FILA black hoodie over my head. Happy I got two times bigger hoodie as the hood covers my eyes and I began slowly drifting off to sleep.

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (18/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1865 Chapter Summary: Marinette calls Adrien for advice. At school, it's time for a project and Marinette and Adrien are lucky enough to be paired together. Though the project is easy, the time spent in the Agreste Household was not. Author's Note: i love the end of this chapter its so much fun. have some fluff before the angst-y-ish climax :)))

Prev / Next / Masterlist

MTV Cribs with Adrien

---

Marinette knew she woke Adrien up, and she felt incredibly guilty. No matter how many times she insisted that she let him get back to sleep, he wouldn't listen to her and wanted to talk. "I'm fine, Marinette. You didn't even wake me up. What's wrong?" He asked.

"Really, Adrien, if you were asleep, I won't bother you. We can talk tomorrow," She tried once more.

"What's wrong?" Adrien asked, sitting at his computer.

She sighed, finally giving in. "Just the comments on the new video. People are bombarding me, saying I know his identity or that we're dating. People are even fighting about who I'm dating: you or Chat Noir," Marinette told him. She was still scrolling through the comments, reading the never-ending sloo of questions and demands. Tikki was sitting beside her, reading along, and trying to comfort.

"Do you know Chat Noir's identity?" Adrien asked.

"No!" She groaned. "Why would I know that? He's just a friend," She calmed down and took a deep breath.

Adrien chuckled. "Just checking. And unless I'm a terrible friend, I don't think you're dating Chat Noir or me, right?"

"Right..." She said, confused about where he was going with this.

Pulling up Twitter on his computer, she could hear Adrien beginning to type. "So then this should be easy. Make a post on Twitter and your Instagram story. Simply say you and Chat Noir are only friends and you don't know his identity, and that you and I are not dating. I'll even tweet something about us only being friends, okay?" Adrien said. "Simple as that, yeah?"

"Hopefully," Marinette responded quietly, also pulling up Twitter on her computer. "My fans are a little crazy about all this shipping stuff."

Adrien shook his head with a little laugh. "Very true. But maybe it will calm most of them down with this kind of stuff," He reasoned.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng @MarinetteDC I am not dating Adrien Agreste. I am not dating Chat Noir. I do not know Chat Noir's identity.

As Marinette pressed tweet, she let go of a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Thanks, Adrien. I don't know what I would do if you didn't pick up."

"You know I'm always here! Gotta help my best friend in her time of need," He said, and Marinette could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow. Thanks, again," Marinette told him, and by the second, she could feel her eyes getting heavier. "Get some sleep, too!"

"I'll try," He said. "Goodnight, Mari. Glad I could help." And with that, they ended the call, and Adrien went back to finish watching her newest video.

Plagg popped up from behind her. "You sure you don't have a crush on her?"

Adrien paused the video again. "Plagg, I don't. And even if I did, you heard her. We're just friends!"

"I happen to remember you calling her your best friend. She only said you guys weren't dating," Plagg tormented.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien held up a piece of camembert to shut him up.

---

Adrien walked into the classroom to see Marinette burying her head in her hands as Alya had a sinister smile on her face. "Come on, girl. I saw the comments; I can't not ask these questions."

"For the last time, no, I don't know who Chat Noir is. Why would you think that? If I did, you would know if I knew. You know when I'm hiding something," Marinette reasoned. "I mean, I wouldn't tell you who he is, but you would know I know," She said, never removing her head out of her hands.

Adrien chuckled as he took his seat next to Nino. "Give her a break, Alya," Adrien pleaded.

Alya sighed. "Fine. You're off the hook this time," She gave in.

Marinette finally lifted her head and mouthed thank you jokingly to Adrien. Only a few seconds later, Mme. Bustier walked in to begin class. She collected homework and began talking about the next area they would be studying. It started off with a small project due in three days, and she was explaining the group work. She put everyone in pairs, and began writing the list on the board that she prepared before class.

Luckily, she went with putting friends together. Nino and Alya were grouped, and Marinette and Adrien were excited to be together. Nino and Marinette switched seats, and they were pleased with their partners. It was the best-case scenario!

"So, do you want to come over after school to work on this?" Marinette asked.

Adrien cringed. "My father doesn't like how much time I've been out of the house. He wanted me home immediately today," Adrien warned. "But, you can come with me? He'll be working, and if it's for a project, Nathalie and Gorilla won't mind. It is school work."

Marinette nodded. "Sounds great."

After getting excited about their project together, the school day went by quick, and Marinette and Adrien were standing out front to be picked up by the bodyguard. They were cracking jokes with Alya and Nino before they departed to Alya's house to work on their own project. Chloé even came up and tried to pull Adrien away from Marinette- though she knew it wouldn't work. She was too far behind, and she had seen the videos of them, there was no breaking up their friendship anymore.

Once she gave up, Adrien's car pulled up, and the two walked up. Gorilla rolled down the window, and Adrien smiled wide. "You've met Marinette before, right? We have a project together, and since Father wants me to stop spending so much time out of the house, we will be doing the project at our house. It has to be done, we only have two days, and I have a photoshoot tomorrow," Adrien started pitching what needed to be done. "If Father has any questions, he can refer to my assignment sheet or call Mrs. Bustier," Adrien nodded to finish his statement, and opened the back door for Marinette to slid in.

Gorilla, as usual, did not say anything. Instead, he only nodded and started driving to the Agreste Mansion. Adrien knew his father would not be happy if he knew about this, but he also knew that Gorilla had a soft spot and wouldn't say anything.

---

Marinette followed Adrien around his room, MTV Cribs style, showing off his luxuries. They quickly got the project done and were now making a video. It was a new change of scenery, and Adrien loved having a friend over. Though they told Nathalie they were still working on the project; she wouldn't have even cared. They were just banking on Adrien's father to not come in.

As Adrien showed off his room, they both knew he wasn't bragging. They were making a fun video with Marinette's commentary behind the camera. Every few minutes, Adrien would grab a random accessory from his closet and put on a different character and continue taking Marinette around the room, acting as he felt that character would.

The video was filled with laughs, and the two were clearly having fun acting. As Adrien pulled a black tie and a pair of dark sunglasses on, the room tour was finished. "Well, let me show you the rest of the mansion," He pulled on a series voice, adjusting his tie. "I'm Adrien Agreste, ever heard of me?" He winked at the camera. He opened his room door, and Marinette followed Adrien out as he started rambling and naming random things.

They both knew Adrien had very little idea of what he was talking about. He was pointing at paintings on the wall, making up words in French, and in English as he explained it all. At the end of the hallway, Adrien threw the tie off and ran down the steps. "Hurry, Mari! We can't be late!" He shouted as Marinette followed in a pit of laughter.

They ran back and forth on the first floor, laughing loud as Marinette chased Adrien with her camera. In the foyer, they were stopped when they heard a loud cough.

Adrien stopped as quickly as he could, and Marinette ran into him as they turned to look at where the cough came from. Gabriel was standing at the top of the steps with Nathalie off to the side, both of them looking disappointed.

"Adrien, what is going on?" Gabriel asked, not acknowledging Marinette.

Adrien took a deep breath and removed the sunglasses. "Marinette and I were grouped for a school project. I know you wanted me to come home after school, so I brought her along so we could work on it, Father," Adrien responded.

Gabriel's emotion didn't change. "The project involves you running around the house while screaming, and you being chased by a camera?" He inquired.

Adrien dropped his head. "No, Father. We finished the project and decided to make a video for Marinette's YouTube channel. They're a lot of fun, and we got caught up in the moment," He explained. "I'm sorry we were running and being loud. I'm sorry we disturbed you."

"The project is finished?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes," Adrien nodded, looking back up at Gabriel.

Gabriel looked good Nathalie, then back to Adrien. "Good. You have some piano pieces to practice." Gabriel turned his gaze to Marinette. "Put the camera away when you are in my house. Adrien was foolish to let you bring it; he should know it is unsafe for our privacy."

The two stood there, waiting for Gabriel and Nathalie to leave again so they could walk back to Adrien's room without it being awkward. Gabriel glanced down at his watch, then back to Marinette. "It's getting late. You should be getting home, Miss Dupain-Cheng," Gabriel said. With that, he finally turned and left Marinette and Adrien alone in the foyer.

They turned to each other. "I'm sorry," They said at the same time, then giggled slightly.

As they started the walk back to Adrien's room, Marinette sighed. "I think your dad just kicked me out."

Adrien shook his head. "He doesn't want me having fun, as you can see," Adrien said. "He shouldn't have gotten angry with you. It was my fault. We shouldn't have even left my room, but it was having fun playing all those characters."

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm not worried that he was assertive with me. I think he treated you poorly, though. That situation totally could have been handled much better," She reasoned.

"That's my father for you," He smiled slowly. Back in Adrien's room, he helped Marinette father her things. "I'm glad the project was easy. And I did really have fun with the video. You could post the part of my bedroom, just cut it before we go out in the hallway," He told her.

Marinette nodded. "Maybe I'll wait a few days in case your father does see it," She said. "But I had fun, too. Somehow we always have a good time making videos together!" She smiled. "But next time, let's make sure we do the videos, not at your house."

"That's probably a good idea."

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

[mysticsparklewings]

SweetTarts Book

Is it candy? Nope! Better! It's a book! :D

Better/more pictures here: http://fav.me/ddpfvdp It was also a nice break from not worrying about tablet things. A small disclaimer that this isn't the only mini book I've made since making my Duck Tape Mini Sketchbook; this is just the most recent one I've made and it's going up first because it's the freshest in my mind. (The others are coming, I just have to take some time to sit down and remember the making-of processes for them and compile the photos together.) This book is also one of 2 that I made that strongly break away from my usual formula, most of which I figured out when I made the very first two Homemade Mini Sketchbooks, and you can pop over there (or to the Duck Tape book mentioned above) to read about it for comparison so (hopefully) I won't repeat myself too much going forward here. This break from formula was inspired by two videos by Sea Lemon over on Youtube; One on making a candy box into a book (www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcASCs…) and one for Painted Book edges (www.youtube.com/watch?v=ertzJY…). But my book does vary slightly from hers in how I made it, aside from just being a different candy box. In Sea Lemon's video, she uses a Junior Mints box and mint paper to match the candy theme. I don't have a whole lot of colored paper (at least not enough of one kind to use for book pages) but I liked the idea of the outer edge of the pages matching/blending with the candy box. That's when I remembered seeing her tutorial for painting book edges, and figured I could do that instead to get roughly the same effect. Aside from that, I also knew I wanted to try a different construction for the spine/how the book opens and closes. Sea Lemon's tutorial, much to my surprise, is actually pretty similar to the way I normally bind my books; Perfect Bound, a.k.a. the pages are attached directly to the spine via glue (or usually what I do ends up being via tape and the other pages & covers the block of pages gets attached to). Which does work, but my brain wanted to do different things based on the horizontal nature of the candy box. I actually thought pretty quickly of these tiny John Green books made by Penguin Random House which see the paper block attached to the back cover, but the front cover and spine can move freely. (I couldn't find a good picture of those books showing that off, but hopefully you can understand what I mean by looking at my pictures here, though the binding obviously isn't as professional and the back cover attachment method is a little different.) Now, given that usually, when I try to custom-cut pages for these little books said pages end up having at least one edge that isn't properly aligned because I cannot cut with machine accuracy despite my best efforts, I typically prefer to use either a page size that requires as little cutting as possible or that I have pre-cut pages for. In this case, I decided to check and as it turns out, normally 3" x 5" index cards fit relatively comfortably inside this particular candy box (which is just the one I had most readily available; I think there are other candy boxes out there I would've preferred to play with given the choice). The pages aren't flush with the box edge like in Sea Lemon's tutorial, but I don't think it's a dealbreaker. And besides, this was just a first attempt. I can potentially try my luck with custom pages and flush edge later. Of course, in hindsight, this means my insistence on painting the page edges wasn't super necessary because you can't really see them in the end, but at least this way I was able to test both the candy box cover method and how the edge painting actually works. (Which I'll address more directly in a minute.) Anyway. Once I'd figured out the main points of what I wanted to do, I started by cutting the box down as Sea Lemon shows in her video. Naturally, I would get the one candy box that has an opening flap for the candy on what was supposed to be the spine, so I had to decide what to do about that. In the end, I opted to just cut the flap off and cut the remnants underneath so there would just be a rectangular hole there, which I ended up "patching" with a piece of cardstock backed by tape. And much later I'd end up putting my signature there, as you can see in the photos. So then I got wild and dared to paint the inside of the box with acrylic paint to match what the book edges were going to look like. It just seemed wrong to leave it white for this color scheme. And it's funny; originally I thought I'd mixed way too much paint in trying to get the right color, but because it took roughly two coats (and it still probably could've done with a third but I'm impatient) for the inside of the box, and then one coat plus light touch-ups on the book edges I actually ended up using almost all of what I'd mixed up. In between waiting for the paint to dry, naturally, I worked on gluing the spine of the index cards--and I didn't count but for reference, as a rough estimate this is probably at least one full pack of 100 cards--together. Although this time I stopped at two coats of glue (instead of my usual 3-4) since I thought it might also be interesting to try being able to tear pages off/out. Which ended up being a good thing, because after I went around the other three edges (leaving the glued spine alone) with the acrylic paint, not only did I manage to get a paint mark on the top page of the stack but also the pages were pretty stuck together and the first 2-3 pages ripped in one spot along the edge when I unstuck them, so I ended up taking off the top few pages after the fact and it worked quite well; the pages are secure enough they won't just fall out, but I was able to pull those few off with enough effort. Take a tip from me, if you're going to paint book edges, I really recommend doing one side at a time and unsticking the pages after each. I made the mistake of painting all three sides at once and when I say some of the pages were really stuck together, I mean some sets of 2 took me ten minutes to unstick.  And admittedly I think despite my efforts to keep the paint coating thin, it was still a little on the thick side, which probably didn't help. Anyway. After that low-grade torture, really all that was left to do was assemble the cover/box and the page block together. Now, had I thought this process through a little more, what I probably should've done was add 1-2 pink pages/index cards to the bottom of my page stack before gluing the spine. Then I could've just stuck the back page directly to the back cover. And if I used the tear-off method and ran out of pages, I could just make a new stack using the same process and stick it right back in. Instead, to keep the backmost page as usable as possible (since the index cards are lined on one side) I ended up painting an extra index card pink and folding it in half, attaching one half to the back cover, and the other to the back of the page stack. This way, the cover still hinges properly and you can still get to the back of the index card, or alternatively if I again end up the tear-off method I can simply leave the last page alone and use it as attach base for the new stack. All that said, despite the growing pains, I think it turned out pretty nice. At the very least, it's neat just for the unexpected cover.  (Though I do think next time I'll try just gluing the opening for the candy closed instead of cutting it out; getting the paper to be the right size and lining the tape up was a bit of a pain.) The only thing I'm not crazy about is that the box/front cover doesn't like to stay closed once you've opened it. Though this might be remedied with more time spent with something pushing down on it or more use. (Alternatively, it could also be taken care of with some kind of book closure/elastic, but I didn't realize that was going to be a problem, so I didn't look into options for that this time around.) I gotta say though, for some reason this project has really lit a fire in the book-making part of my brain and I know it's not going to be much longer before I cave to that "let's make a book" voice in the back of my head once again because I've been putting it off since like the day after I finished this one.  I just haven't had time to let it take over; too many other projects/things to worry about at the moment. That said, I'm hoping my next few posts will be a mix of new art and posts of those other books I've made but haven't posted yet. I do have a couple of Valentine's-themed pieces planned, along with a couple of other things I don't want to spoil ahead of time.  I just hope I can get everything done by the time it needs to be done. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[yaachtynoboat711]

Our Next Guest...

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots With Love, From Wakanda fic fest! I’m so excited to temporarily break from Fonder’s angsty chains and coming with that present-day Yaa and Wins! I apologize for the tardiness of this fic, as I started my new job this week. I had to dust this off from the depths of my archives due to the time crunch. I was going to do my M’Baku x OC, but my time was limited.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Fluff, Black Love

Prompt: “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Only twice in the past hour.”

“Chris, I’m fucking terrified.”,you huffed.

You were in your dressing room getting ready to finally begin your Sheimbloom press junket. The first stop was Jimmy Kimmel Live, one of your favorite talk shows. You’d been delaying the tour for personal reasons. Now, it was here and you were going alone. Winston was in the middle of a project in New York. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day. It sucked knowing that Winston couldn’t make it, however,it was worth knowing that he was being supportive and giving you advice on TV interviews. You’d had many a print interview, but never a TV interview.

“Baby, you’ll do fine. You’re a lawyer: you orate for a living. Plus, you love Jimmy, so this’ll be a breeze.”, Winston reassured via FaceTime.

“Yeah, you’re right...I guess.”

“You’re damn right I’m right. I can’t recall a time I was ever wrong. ”

“Well shit I can.”, you smirked, earning an annoyed huff and eye roll from your fiancé.

“ANYWAYS, are you going to indirectly promote Us?”

“Hasn't it already been promoted enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean,Yaa Denae?” One of the production assistants walked in at the perfect moment.

“Dr. Abdullah, we’re ready for you.”, the PA said.

“Well, won’t you look at the time! I love you, baby love!”,Yaa said in a hurry.

“I love you, too, Pumpkin. Gimme love.” The two of you did your secret handshake despite the distance and he hung up.

“K.D., you two are just too cute for words.”, your assistant Talia gushed as you handed her your phone.

You walked out of your dressing room along with Talia and your other assistant Jacqui to the backstage area.

When you got backstage, you found a mirror to check yourself out and posed for your OOTD post. Winston picked your outfit: simple black blouse with matching flared pants and a Tuskegee crimson and old gold striped ascot (your choice,of course). He even picked out the leopard pumps. That man had an eye for fashion. Your curly platinum locs were pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Dr. Abdullah, you’re up in 60 seconds!”, you heard the PA announce. “Thank you!”, you replied. You took this time to recite your affirmation to yourself:

I am enough;I am here for a reason;I am here to slay; I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams!

Finally, you walked into the elevator as you heard the countdown and studio applause before hearing Jimmy’s introduction. “Welcome back! Our next guest is no stranger to shattering glass ceilings. In addition to graduating valedictorian of Yale Law School at the age of 23,yeah, twen-ty three, this past July, she became the youngest and the first Black woman to win the Richard T. Sheimbloom Award for Merit and Excellence in Law--the highest award for any lawyer in the world to receive. Please, help me welcome for the first time, Attorney Khalida Abdullah!”

The audience erupted into cheer, but not before the elevator door slid open to you doing that little Thotiana jig. You waved to the audience and gave them your brightest Miss Tuskegee smile. You strutted your way towards Jimmy and hugged him before sitting down. “Well...”, Jimmy began, “...happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to the show, Attorney Abdullah.” The audience continued their clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much,Jimmy! Happy V-Day to you! Please call me K.D.. Can I just say that one, this is a dream come true to be on the show and two, I need to carry this audience in my pocket because they really--” they all screamed and you smiled as you glanced towards the audience once more, “--they really helped me overcome my nerves just now and this energy y’all are giving me is every damn thing to me.”

“Well, I’m happy that’s something that helped ease you. So let’s jump right on in: what made you want to become a lawyer?”

“You know, not a lot of people have asked me that question.”

Jimmy’s head bucked back in disbelief, “Really?”

“Yeah, so believe it or not, the OJ trial inspired me to go into law. I was about 5 years old and I see Johnnie Cochran, a Black man, and Marcia Clark, a woman, working the case. I guess I was trying to figure out why weren’t there any Black Women working this case. Even after the case, I didn’t meet a Black female lawyer until I was in college. Sometimes, you gotta be your own role model.” The audience applauded your answer.

“That’s something to really live by. Now fast-forward to this past July: what’s going through your mind before and after hearing your name called for the Sheimbloom?”

“Maaaaan, I was a complete wreck and a tad tipsy from the wine they put on the table. I had my umi and Winston’s hands in vise grips. For clarification, Winston Duke, y’know…”,you looked dead into camera 1, “...THICC DADDY M’Baku? Anyways, everything’s going in slow motion, so my reaction was about 10 seconds slower than what it should’ve been. Now, the Chairman didn’t actually announce my name per se.”

Jimmy and the audience laughed. “So...are you the 2018 Sheimbloom winner or not?”, he joked. “Jimmy, listen! Winston, along with some of his fellow Jabari actors, started barking like they did in the Warrior Falls scene? It wasn’t until Winston let go of my hand and literally took his scarf to bark did I realize I’d won.” The audience cheered as a picture of your raw reaction to winning appeared on the screen behind you. Your red eyes were bugged out, mouth ajar, both hands placed on your chest. That feeling of victory began tingling throughout your body all over again .

“How’s life after winning?”

“To be honest…I don’t really feel that much different. I worked that Monday after the ceremony and up until the middle of August because my partners essentially forced me on leave and sent me to L.A.”

“Why would they do that?” The audience laughed. You did too.

“Honey, I had been working like a madwoman from October up until they put me on leave.”

“Ah-a. So that leads me to the next question: what happened that night?” You smirked.

“Well, after giving my speech, I got whisked upstairs to take pictures with my award.” The screen behind you showed a picture of you holding your award up to your ear like a cell phone with one hand and showing off your rose gold slugs by pulling on your bottom lip with the other. You were squatting down and showing off your red sparkly pump.

“That’s one of the most epic pictures I’ve ever seen. What happened next?” The audience gassed you up with “Ow’s! and whistles..

“Wellllllllllllllll”, your toothy smile should have been the indication that it was about to go down, “I sneak away to the terrace for a breather because God knew I needed it. I’m out there and my Winston texts me asking me where I had gone, right? Long story short, he proposed. Afterwards, socialized for a little bit, and then Wins and I went to our favorite 24-hour diner like nothing even happened that night. So, that’s another reason I was out here in L.A.: he still lives here and we needed time to begin planning the wedding.” The audience went crazy with applause.

“So how’s the planning coming,”

“Uhh...it’s proving to be harder than we initially estimated. We don’t live together—he’s here in LA and I’m in DC. So with that being said, we can’t just meet at a central location at lunch and talk about flowers and what not. He’s big money now with his ever-filling schedule and I’m doing the damn thing too so we can’t just break. We try to reserve a weekend every month to devote our time and energy to planning. The few times we’ve actually come together, progress was def made.”

“One more question before the break: when’s the wedding date?”

You looked at him with your usual “Really, nigga?” face. “C’mon, Jimmy. I can’t just disclose something personal like that. We don’t want our special day to be a media circus. But the only thing I will say is that it’s in 2020.”, you teased.

“We’ll be back after the break.” The audience applauded until the director yelled “Cut!”

—————

“And we’re back! I’m here on this Valentine’s Day with the incomparable Khalida Abdullah, attorney and activist. Now earlier, you mentioned that your fiancé is none other than actor Winston Duke, who’s been on this show before.”, Jimmy explained. The ladies in the audience swooned.

“That’s correct! He’s currently doing press for his upcoming movie Us. Y’all should hit it up next month.”, you responded, trying to conceal the goofy smile forming.

“So one thing I failed to mention before the break was that you two are gracing the cover of Essence Magazine’s Black Love issue.”, Jimmy announced. The audience cheered. He propped the advance copy up that showed you and Winston posed together and serving faces.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, is it difficult being in a relationship with a man of growing international status?”

“Well, damn. I never even thought about that. Ummmm...no. If anything, our relationship is growing stronger. Life after Black Panther has, in a sense, caused us to strengthen our communication. I believe that our mutual communication is our greatest asset. We literally text each other our daily schedules and we have each other’s events and event reminders in other’s phones. We’re very transparent with one another.”

“So you don’t get jealous with other ladies throwing their panties at Winston?”

You shot Jimmy an unimpressed look. “Why get jealous when he’s in mine all the time?”, you said unphased, shrugging your shoulders, crossing your legs and drinking from your mug. The audience hooted and hollered.

"Welll, here's an Instagram picture of the two of you. Not quite like we just discussed but very cute. Does he get tired of the graduations and celebrations you drag him to? You taking his shine?"

A picture of you two came on the screen. It was the Instagram picture the two of you took at your graduation dinner this past spring. In your beautiful red off-shoulder African dress and doctoral cap and he in his khaki seersucker and unbuttoned white dress shirt, the two of you jokingly did the “prom pose” and he was kissing your neck. Your signature smile and red lip were on full display as you were mid-laugh. The audience awed as they felt the warmth and love you two shared in that moment.

“Nahhh...in his mind, he sees us as equally yoked. Whatever hustle I have, be it a speaking engagement, an award, or anything, he’s cheering me on 125%, and the same goes for me. So with anything in our lives, you’ll see one go all the way for the other. Metaphorically, no one has a bigger head between us.”

“But in the literal sense?”

“Oh, it’s definitely his ass.” Everyone including yourself burst out laughing. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re good arm candy for each other for events. I mean, look at us!”, you said enthusiastically as you pointed at the picture.

“Well, one more thing before we go: what’s on the agenda for Valentine’s Day?”, Jimmy inquired. You carefully thought about your answer. The thought of being away from your Teddy Bear on Valentine’s Day sucked ass.

“Well, unfortunately, he’s on his way to New York to tend to some business. Buuuut, in a perfect world, I’d be rushing to finish this interview and get ready to go out on a date or stay in, get into our pajamas, and watch Forensic Files all night long.”

“Well, once again, happy Valentine’s Day and congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished. Khalida Abdullah, everybody.”, Jimmy concluded. The audience stood up and cheered as you and Jimmy chatted it up until yhe break.

“Annnnd cut! Great job, Khalida!”, the producer yelled over the PA system.

“Not bad for your first interview.”, Jimmy complimented. You thanked him for the opportunity and were escorted backstage.

Jacqui was the first of your staff to welcome you backstage. “K.D. (you hated formalities with your staff), that was amazing! It’s crazy to think that you were terrified right before this and now look at you: mastered it like it was nothin’!”, she said as she hugged you deeply. You’d thanked her and you started walking back to your dressing room.

“I just wished that Wins could’ve been here, y’know?”, you whispered loud enough so Jacqui could hear. You opened the door and it hit something heavy, the door’s impact sounded as though the victim may have been a person. Your face scrunched in curiosity and your native New Orleans kicked in for this very moment. “Bitch, who the fuck?!”, you yelled. You stepped back to make sure you were going to the right dressing room. Yup, this is my dressing room. You slowly opened opened the door again.

Your confused expression remained on your face as you heard Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing softly. The lights were dimmed just enough that you could see Winston standing in the middle of the room looking the fuck good as usual. You ran to him, tightly hugging his torso. He took in the sweet scent of your loc oil and perfume and kissed the top of your locs. He could feel your chubby cheeks complimenting your candy apple red smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”, he whispered.

“You raggedy as fuck. Just want you to know that. I love you though. ”, you clapped back.

“I love you, too, but hoooooow?!”, Winston looked down into your teary light brown eyes. “New York, Winston? Really?”, you answered.

“Denver, Khalida? Really?, he shot back.

Silence. “Touché.”

Your staff recorded the entire exchange. Praise the ancestors for them. You looked over to the counter to see a large bouquet of your rose trifecta and Tropical Skittles, your personal favorite candy. Your favorite snack was sporting a burgundy suit with a tan turtleneck.

“Now, I was in a crunch trying to get here, but I figured you’d appreciate the Tropical Skittles over the originals, even though Skittles are your favorite regardless.”, he explained. You shook your head as you heard his explanation.

“God, I love you, Winston.” He kissed your fivehead before giving your lips the same attention.

“I love you even more, Pumpkin.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”, you asked.

“Only twice in the past hour. ”, he teased. “Now come on—it’s half-past 4 and we need to get ready for the night ahead of us.”

“Welp, there goes that Forensic Files binge-a-thon I bragged about.”

Tag Listiana 🤷🏽‍♀️

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[marvxlousqueen]

Joe Mazzello- Let me love you

word count: a little over 3k

warnings: fluffy smut (like really soft) and the rest is fluff :))

summary: inspired by this audio i found tehehe-- reader and joe have been friends since high school and have a high school reunion and reconnect :))

(Y/n) felt strange being back in her old bedroom. Nothing had changed, same colorful comforter on her bed, same posters scattered over the walls. Her high school reunion was tomorrow, and she was not looking forward to seeing everyone who had been mean to her in high school. The good news was she wouldn't be completely alone. Joe was tagging along with her and staying in her parents home so he didn't have to get a hotel. (Y/n) and Joe had known each other since 8th grade, having shared a homeroom and algebra class. During high school they became much closer.

In freshman year, (Y/n) was completely overwhelmed by the huge lunch room, unable to find anyone she knew to eat with. Joe had bumped into her while trying to hop behind her in line. That was the first of many lunches they shared. Turns out they had fifth period together in freshman year too so they grew close quickly.

In their sophomore year, Joe and (Y/n) went to homecoming together during first semester. Well, not together-. Joe could never see me like that, she had thought at the time. He had even said it before.

Joe had said something like along those lines during their junior year, their year with their biggest fight. She had brought up going to prom together and that's when he had started their biggest fight ever. 

"You think I can't get a date to prom? You think I need to go to prom with you? I could get a real date if I wanted, I don't need to go with a friend!" He had made such a scene in the library where they were studying, (Y/n) still remembered how embarrassed and angry she was. "I didn't say that! I just thought we could go together like we did with homecoming last year and why are you yelling at me! Girls don't like it when you yell at them, no wonder you can't get any girls to even look at you besides me!" This had shut him up. He didn't even want other girls to look at him. And he definitely didn't want to go to prom with another girl. 

He was just upset after seeing some douche flirting with (Y/n) at her locker that morning. He had made her laugh and making (Y/n) laugh was Joe's thing. I'm funny, I don't see why she needs to talk to him to get a laugh. I could make her laugh more than that asshole could, he had thought.

Joe had actually only managed to make (Y/n) cry that whole week after their screaming session in the library. It broke his heart to see her with red, puffy eyes that used to stare at him with warmth, now acting like he didn't exist. That whole week (Y/n) ignored Joe until he finally begged for her forgiveness by showing up at her house with donuts the night of prom. Neither of them went, secretly not wanting to be there without the other. 

"Joe you were such a dick! You think donuts are going to make up for that? I just- oh is that jelly filled? Fine...you're forgiven. Just get inside, I'll put on a movie." They had spent the whole night eating too many donuts and marathoning Indiana Jones, like they always did, until (Y/n)'s parents made Joe leave ("No boys in the house past 11 o'clock, (Y/n)!"). 

Why was high school so dramatic?, she thought to herself wandering over to her closet, high school memories coming back to her everywhere she looked. She opened her closet, seeing mostly old hoodies and tennis shoes. She shuffled to the back, and something red caught her eye. Her senior year prom dress. Red with some gold decoration, it was still gorgeous to her. Senior year, Joe had asked her to prom, possibly attempting to make up for not wanting to go to Junior prom with her. It hadn't been too big of a promposal- he had found her in the student parking lot one morning with a small poster and a stereotypical box of donuts, spelling out the word "prom?". She was happy he didn't do it in the cafeteria or else she might've died from embarrassment- not because she was embarrassed by Joe, there was no why she could be embarrassed by him-just because she always thought couples who did things like that were so extra. But Joe and I aren't even a couple... just friends.

She had given him a big hug after saying yes, face burning from the thought she had about the ‘couple’ thing. 

(Y/n) was broken from her memories of high school when she heard the doorbell ring. She rushed down to get it, knowing her parents wouldn't since they were out of town. Opening the door, she saw Joe holding a box of donuts, suitcase on the ground. "Hey (Y/n)!" He wrapped his free arm around her. "Joe! This feels all too familiar. Come in, come in!" 

It had been a few months since Joe had seen (Y/n), busy wrapping up press and award shows for Bohemian Rhapsody. (Y/n) on the other hand felt like she had just seen him because she was always watching his latest interviews and keeping up with everything he posted. After placing the donuts down and moving his suitcase inside, Joe engulfed (Y/n) in a bear hug, not letting go until she patted his arm. "Alrighty Joey, I can't breathe." He let go, missing her warmth already. "So, what are we going to do first? Reunion's not till tomorrow night." She responded with a big smile, "Well, since we are taking a trip back to our high school, why don't we make this like our standard high school Friday night. I'll pop some popcorn if you turn on the TV. The Indiana Jones disks should be somewhere around here."

Standard high school Friday night, great. (Y/n) always enjoyed their nights, laughing carefree, just happy to be with a friend. Joe on the other hand used to always have to focus on not turning red when his hand accidentally touched hers in the popcorn bowl or making sure to not get hard when she pressed against him during a night of cuddling on the couch. He turned on the TV, popping in the disk to the ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, which had been laying in it's old spot under the TV mantle. (Y/n) returned a few minutes later from the kitchen, carrying popcorn and a few bottles of root beer. She took her usual spot on the couch, leaving room for Joe to sit next to her. “I missed this. I missed you, Joe.” 

Joe’s heart started beating faster and he felt heat rush to his face, no doubt turning him a bit red. “Me too, (Y/n).” She scooted closer to him, head resting on his shoulder, which caused him to instinctually move his arm to wrap around her. They stayed like that for a long time, afraid to move in case it caused the other to switch positions.

After putting on the second movie, (Y/n)‘s head moved into Joe’s lap in an attempt to get more comfortable. “This couch used to be so much bigger, guess we’ve grown a bit since high school.” All Joe could do in response was cough and nod, trying not to let the image of (Y/n) that close to his crotch cause any changes in his pants. Suddenly she sat back up, “Come on, Joey! Let’s cuddle like old times!” 

“W-what? No, we can’t cuddle, adults don’t cuddle.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Shut up and lay down, Joseph. Plus you are not an adult, I see all the childish stuff you post.”

“Oh god, you’ve seen that stuff?” He asked, while shifting to lay next to her back, her facing away from him, their bodies almost touching. “Of course, I pay attention to what you do. I like seeing that stuff, keeps me sane knowing that you’re okay. Otherwise I’d have to get up and kick some Hollywood ass.” This made him laugh, “Yeah you’d be able to do so much damage.”

“Shut up!” She threw a pillow at him, probably missing since she didn’t bother to turn around. “How much did you see on Instagram?”

“Well, most recently I enjoyed the karaoke video, truly iconic, Joe.” He groaned, stealing a blanket from her, pulling it over himself. “Hey! It’s cold! Give that back!” Knowing she wouldn’t be strong enough to take back the blanket, she settled for snuggling closer to him, her ass pressing into his crotch.

She’s got to be doing that on purpose, he thought. (Y/n) moved her ass farther into his crotch, effectively rubbing up on him. Finally, she stopped moving, getting comfortable. As (Y/n) drifted off, Joe continued to try and slow his breathing so he didn’t get a boner. Joe stayed awake for the entire ‘Temple of Doom’ movie, still worried he might wake up hard if he drifted off. 

Once the movie ended, Joe turned off the TV with the remote. Seeing that it was past eleven o’clock, he slowly shook (Y/n) awake, feeling guilty for waking her when she seemed so peaceful. “Hey, (Y/n). You gotta get up and go to bed, okay? Come on.” Eventually her eyes fluttered open and she jumped a little, not expecting Joe to be so close to her. “O-oh hey. What time is it?” 

Looking back at his phone to check, he responded, “11:19. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.” He pulled the blanket off of her, climbing over her (since he was still behind her, pressed into the couch) to help her stand up. 

After a hard climb up the stairs to her room, she let herself fall onto her bed, feeling it dip as Joe sat down next to her. “I haven’t been here in so long, wow. Nothing has really changed, though.” She nodded, starting to actually wake up. “I know! It’s crazy how much time has passed...”

Joe checked his phone again, wondering if he should leave her and go to bed or if he could stay with her for a few more minutes. “It’s 11:30.. That’s kind of funny. I was never allowed to stay past 11, you remember that?” (Y/n) laughed, remembering how crazy her parents were when she was in high school, worried about her fooling around with a boy. She nodded, looking at Joe to find him staring back. 

“I always wanted to stay past 11... just to see what we would do if I did.” His face turned red, knowing that his high school self would’ve probably cum in his pants if he even thought about spending a night in the same house as (Y/n), let alone sat in the same room as her past curfew. She said nothing, too busy processing what his words meant. Joe stood up, thinking he made a mistake, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it just came out and it sounds so weird. I’ll just go to the guest room now-” 

“Wait, no, Joe, just.. stay. I-I always wanted you to stay...” He sat back down next to her. “Okay.”

They sat in silence for a while, every so often their eyes would meet while trying to sneak looks at the other.

 “Joe-” “(Y/n)-”

“You can-” “You go-”

After struggling to get the words out, Joe took the lead, “I liked you in high school. I really liked you, a lot. I-I, um-like.. like senior prom? You remember that, of course you remember that, anyways- I, I wanted to take you as my date, not as my friend, but-but you didn’t seem to think it was for real so I didn’t say anything and I really wish I did because maybe we could’ve started something and been together- but even before then I liked you and I just-”

“Joe!”

(Y/n) interruption finally shut up his rambling. “I liked you in high school too, so much and I’m sorry I didn’t see prom as a date, I just thought you would never want to do something like a date with me. I mean you did say that during junior year, so-”

Joe hung his head, regretting so many of his stupid high school choices, but that outburst was by far his worst decision. “I’m really sorry about that, god I was such a dick back then-”

“No you weren’t Joe.”

“Yes I was. I was just jealous.. high school was stupid.” His face was turning more red as he thought more about how he acted back in the day.

“Jealous, huh? That’s kind of flattering..  and high school was stupid.” He nodded, looking up at her, giving her a lopsided smile. 

“Joe, can.. can I tell you something?” She scooched closer to him, her knee touching his as their feet dangled off the bed. He nodded, holding eye contact with her, trying to read the emotion in her eyes. “I didn’t just like you in high school.. I still.. I still like you, Joe- and I’m sorry if that’s weird to you and I know you are so busy with your work and different projects but I really think we could do well together and-” 

It was his turn to shut her rambling down, which he did by placing a quick kiss on her lips. “W-what? What was that?”

“A kiss.. mostly to get you to stop talking, but also because I like you too. I have since sophomore year.” She leaned into him, pulling his face towards hers, this time sharing a longer kiss, still just as sweet. As the kiss continued, (Y/n) fell back onto her bed, heading hitting her pillow. Joe moved up with her, not breaking the kiss. His arms fell next to her head, holding him over her. 

Joe finally moved his lips down, kissing her neck. “Let me love you, (Y/n). Let me show you like I’ve always wanted to.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling Joe’s face to hers for one last kiss before she pulled off his shirt, hers following after. Joe had seen (Y/n) in a swimsuit before, but seeing her in a bra was far more intimate, and a sight that Joe never thought he would see. He took a moment to admire her, but (Y/n) didn’t feel insecure under his watchful eyes, knowing they were filled with nothing but love. After placing a kiss on her shoulder, he moved to unclip her bra, slowly pulling it down her arms.

(Y/n) enjoyed the gentleness of it all. Too many times had she been with a guy where it was all rush, no passion. She was loving his warm eyes roaming her body, his soft touches on her skin. 

She moved her fingers under his shorts’ waistband, toying with it as she slid it down his thighs. He took her hands in his, moving them above her head. “This is about you, sweetheart. Just let me love you.” He let go of her hands, moving to massage her breasts, before leaving love bites over both of them. He kissed down the valley between her breasts, making his way down her body slowly, leaving her writhing in anticipation. “Joe please..” (Y/n)’s voice was breathy, already almost moaning for him. Joe was loving every bit of it. He looked up into her eyes as he pulled down her leggings and panties with his teeth. He pulled them off all the way afterwards with hands, throwing them on the floor to be picked up later.

He spread her legs, eyes widening as he saw how wet she was for him. “You look- you look so beautiful like this, (Y/n). All laid out for me, dripping for me.” He placed a kiss to her clit before swiping his tongue through her folds. “Fuck, Joe.. you feel so good.” He continued his gentle attack on her pussy, finally entering her with his tongue, fucking her slowly with it. “Oh my god, Joe!” (Y/n) let out every moan she felt coming, knowing no one could hear her in the empty house. Joe felt her thighs tighten around his head, her pussy clenching. She was close and was getting louder as she moved closer to her end. “F-fuck Joe- please faster.” 

Joe obeyed her, tongue moving up to suck her clit, while his fingers started to fuck her, faster and faster until she released around his fingers. “Oh, Joe!”

He sucked her juices off of his fingers before moving back up the bed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you scream my name like that.” 

“Now it’s my turn.” She was about to move to his shorts before Joe stopped her. “No-no, tonight’s just about you.” (Y/n) felt heat rush to her face, turning her a bit more red than she already was from her orgasm just moments before. “Okay, then please just fuck me, Joe. I need you-please.”

He slipped off his shorts, his underwearing following immediately after. (Y/n) let out a involuntary gasp, causing Joe to laugh along with boosting his self confidence. Joe was definitely a blessed man in the pants. He moved one of her legs around his waist, looking back up at her before pushing in.

“Ohh fuck, (Y/n), so tight, so wet for me.” He pulled back out before thrusting back in faster, her wet pussy making obscene noises around him. “Shit, Joe!” Her moans spurred him on to go faster, pushing his body closer to hers. He moved his hands from next to her head to her hands, which were gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He intertwined their fingers, holding eye contact as he pounded into her. “Fuck (Y/n)-you feel so good.”

Joe felt himself coming to his end, his senses overwhelmed from being so close to her, feeling the love she held for him. Joe reached one hand down to rub her clit, not wanting to finish before she did. “O-Oh god Joe! I’m so-”

“Me too, come with me-” He thrusted into her harder one last time, before cumming in her. “Fuck!” At the feeling of Joe filling her up, (Y/n) was pushed over the edge. With a final scream of his name, she finished, her cum leaking down his cock. 

Joe pulled out slowly, knowing how sensitive she would be, before jumping up to get a towel to clean her up. He returned with a wet towel, face blushing once he realized he was still naked. After cleaning up, he took his spot next to her, his face in her neck, placing soft kisses. Before drifting off for the second time that night, (Y/n) reached out to grab his hand and placed one last kiss to his lips for the night.