#so he kind of pokes around for evidence that would give him an excuse to admit he knows it’s hua cheng

[yea-baiyi]

reading xie lian’s POV is actually hilarious once you realise xie lian isn’t oblivious at all, he basically guesses most things immediately, he’s just taken the veteran autism tactic of “it’s too much effort to figure out when it’s appropriate to mention that i know something, so i’ll just pretend i don’t know until someone says it aloud”. sometimes it turns into a bit. the truth might be embarrassingly obvious, but social cues are hard, and xie lian has infinite time to wait for the other person to blink first.

[scumbagjaeger]

omg! I love the college major one! if you're still okay with requests, how would the guys be as a study partner ?

STUDYING WITH THE SNK MEN

starring: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Porco, Reiner, Levi, Zeke

rating: mostly sfw! 18+

notes: Omg thank you!!! I'm always open for requests I'm just really slow with them lol. Since I was a history/english major, most of my homework in college was papers so I kind of framed these with them helping with a paper! I also love the idea of them pining for you a touch so some of these might be more geared around that, instead of an established relationship, but I think they're pretty versatile anyway haha. Enjoy!!(:

college majors

EREN:

It's rare for him to be seen actually doing school work

So when he sends you a text inviting you to do homework together, that's exactly what he's going to do, simple enough

He's probably extremely behind in like four classes oops

Eren prefers to study in the evenings, probably after hours in the library? So there's like no one there besides the other people way behind in their classes lol

I love basketball player Eren, so he's either wearing the same big hoodie and sweats that he wore during the day, or a clean shirt and shorts, wet hair from the post-practice showers, and maybe even his gym bag

If you have plans to meet in the usual spot, he'll have your favorite energy drink waiting for you when you get there

He'd probably be super nice to study with

After practice he's extremely chill, calm, asking about your day and what not while you pull out your laptop and papers

If you ask he'll tell you about how his practice went and what he's been up to, he's tired from a long day of school and what not but he's super comfortable around you, so it's just a nice vibe

He's a good listener, remembers the names of the professors you like and the guy you hate in your class

Once you're actually really to start studying he's extremely quiet, he lets you work in peace

Honestly the sounds of his keyboard is probably so comforting? The man is good with his fingers what can I say

You might catch him sneaking glances (or full on staring) at you here and there, bright green eyes poking up from behind his laptop screen

Lowkey he's looking for any reason to talk to you again

The second you acknowledge his gaze he'll start up a small conversation again

If you need his help he'll do the thing where he leans over you a touch

He definitely saw the pink on your ears when he did it the first time and now he will never not find an excuse to be that close to you lmaooo

If you're writing a paper, he'll read it after you're done and give you feedback, but he's not good at giving it??

"Yeah, seems good to me," or "I don't get this part", he doesn't really know how to explain it or provide specific advice about how to strengthen the analysis of your evidence lol sorry

Afterwards he might put a hand on your arm and ask "So... got any plans tonight?"

Lol it's like 1am but if you're down he might take you to get ice cream, or back to his place if you want to hang out there. If not he'll offer to drive you back to your apartment, he doesn't want you walking around late at night alone :)

JEAN:

He probably sucks to study with lmao so sorry

It's just hard to get him to stop talking and actually get work done?

Your conversations start to dwindle as you begin typing on your laptop and he just changes the topic

In his defense, you guys probably find time to study together either in between your classes or immediately after, so he's just kind of distracted with everything going on

He'll invite you to do homework together and he literally thinks it means work on your essay together and like write it together

And you'll have to explain that you can do your own paper while he studies and he's like "OH okay then"

But he'll offer to help you with it anyway, which would be really nice!!

He'll read the paper once to get a feel for it, almost scans through it which makes it seem intimidating but he's just a fast reader lol

He'll explain the paper back to you???? Like he'll tell you what he's got out of the paper, your thesis and your main points; if there's any general comments or miscommunications you guys can sort that out there, he helps you frame your paper better

Then he'll help you fine tune each paragraph and make sure the evidence and analysis is solid! He's probably the best with helping you with your papers because he's super supportive and patient

When you pause to ask for his input he'll smile and give you a nudge, "Hey, you've got this. I know it's tough but you're smart, you already know the content! (Y/N), you've got this, I believe in you"

And then he gets really pink in the face "Uh, yeah. So. Onto the next paragraph?"

Sometimes you will need to tell him to focus on his own work lol

Jean with glasses. That's it

If he's writing his own paper or reading one for class they're low on his nose

Looks like a model reading, holding the book in hold hand and barely dropping his gaze down to look at it

Writing notes that are indecipherable with his other hand lol

Jean reads aloud because it helps him focus and it's really cute okay

If you're stressed or you guys are in a public/busy setting he won't! He doesn't want to be distracting

But if he's comfortable with you you might hear him whispering quietly to himself

If you offer, he'll give you some context and ask you for your input about something he's stuck on!

Remembers when your papers are due and will ask you how you did on them a week or two later!

If you're frustrated about your grade or another upcoming paper he might send you a text before your weekly study session: "change of plans. wanna catch a movie in the park? they're playing a good one :)"

ARMIN:

Armin with the double major???

He has you studying together a couple times a week AT LEAST

I bet he holds 'tutoring sessions' where he invites a bunch of friends together to study and get help from him because he can whip out a 12 page paper in two hours tops

But Connie and Ymir derail these sessions

If you guys are studying alone together he's extremely helpful

He'd love to call them private sessions with you though lowkey?? I bet if y'all were together he'd even try and roleplay some sort of tutor thing, lil freak

Studying with you is a TOP priority. This man will cancel a doctor's appointment to study with you

He'll rent you out a study room in the library!!

Armin can actually pull strings with the librarians to reserve a room last minute, if you really need one!

Study rooms are nice because they have those big whiteboards to use and he'll fill one side with "(Y/N)'S PAPER" and have you go through everything about your paper

Title, intro, thesis, paragraph topics, evidence, analysis, conclusion...

Even if you have an outline already lol he just likes to write on the whiteboard, it makes him feel important

If you're dong a worksheet or something he'll also use the whiteboard for that!

Good luck if you're writing a paper about something he's knowledgeable on?? If it's history he can literally pull evidence (like a book, author, quote and page number) out of thin air for you to use

But he might try and take over your paper oops

"(Y/N), I totally get what you're saying about Hegel's religious theories serving as a metaphor for Germany's idealized and romanticized view on their newly formed state, causing the reign of the Third Reich during the 20th century, but would you agree that this idea extends BEYOND Hegel, and in fact combines the martyrdom of the empire and their warmongering tendencies to that thought?? Just an idea :)"

He's probably the smoothest when it comes to inviting you to do something after you study

He knows your favorite coffee shop is right next to the library, or he knows of a mini golf park that's half off for students

He writes down your exam dates and paper due dates in his calendar so he can remind you and ask you how you feel afterwards!

Before a big exam he'll surprise you with something like a gift card to your favorite coffee place or a flower omg I love him

IMMEDIATELY after your class ends, your phone goes off" "How'd the exam go!! Wanna tell me about it over lunch? :)"

CONNIE:

Sorry to any business majors but all my business friends had the easiest homework ever??

Like one of them had to redesign a monopoly board for their MIDTERM, so studying with Connie is probably more like arts and crafts lmao He’ll ask you to study with him when he notices you’ve been especially stressed or down

Connie’s got a real good skill at reading people I bet but he doesn’t show it?

He’ll check in occasionally but it can also be overwhelming when someone’s constantly looming over you while you’re stressed so he doesn’t do that!

But right in the heat of your semester, you’ve got like five different papers and projects due and you get a text from Connie saying he’s on his way to your apartment with food and a project

He makes some dumb excuse about needing to borrow some tape or something

He brings your favorite takeout and lightly forces you to eat it, put your books down and think about something else for ten minutes!

He points out that you’ll do your best work when you’re healthy and gives you a look

You guys probably study in silence for a bit before he finally breaks the tension

"So... stressed much?"

He'll let you rant to him about all of your classes, about your parents pressuring you, about how you're scared you're pushing away your friends by closing yourself off but you NEED to, everything

You'll feel him at your side, his hand rubbing your back gently

"(Y/N), you're like the smartest person I know. You don't have to prove anything to anyone about that. You're friends all know that exams are hectic, so you don't need to worry about us! I just worry about you when you stop taking care of yourself, (Y/N). So... let me take care of you, yeah? We'll get through this."

All-nighters aren't probably the healthiest thing, but Connie makes them fun and you guys are able to get through them without two pots of coffee

He let's you explain everything about your projects and he'll play devil's advocate a little bit during your essay, just asking you simple questions that you should answer in your paper. "--But why is that important?" and "--What about any opposing arguments?"

If you're memorizing terms for a quiz, he's making it a game, rewarding you with chocolate chips or something dumb whenever you ace your flashcards

Honestly he'd end up learning all of your terms too? I think a good way to learn something is to explain it to someone else (or just talk through it at least), so as you go through your terms and their definitions he is slowly starting to memorize them? He may not seem like the most studious person but he's definitely a quick learner

He also forces you to take breaks when you're starting to get overwhelmed though, which is also how you guys do his projects lol. "Why don't you put down your laptop and give yourself some space from your essay. Help me color in this poster and then we can look at your paper with fresh eyes, yeah?"

By the time your paper is done and your terms are all memorized, it's 4am and the sun is starting to peek through the tree line, and only then do you start to feel the weight of your overnight study session. Connie does too, and he nods towards your bedroom where you both collapse onto your mattress

"Don't go to class today," "What?" "C'mon, you need to sleep, you've got all your projects done, your paper is perfect, you need to sleep." and as he's pulling you towards him, rubbing your back, who are you to decline that offer?

Porco:

I feel like Porco is also very down-to-business, like Eren

Which can be extremely nice? He's very disciplined, so studying with him is perfect when you procrastinate too much and NEED to get your shit done

He probably gives you shit for procrastinating lol, sorry he just doesn't understand how you could do that to yourself?

He's an extremely busy guy, to the point where homework is probably fun for him, because it's the only thing he can really control (compared to his soccer practice and work schedule, that has set times)

Like he can get homework in class and then get it done immediately after, while the content is still fresh in his mind, and then his afternoon is free

So if you ask him to study with you sometime he might look at you a little funny because he doesn't really need to study that often?

But he's also a gentleman so he'll agree, inviting you over to his place sometime after soccer practice

He might save some homework to do in the evening with you, or he'll just sit there with a blank word document across from you because all of his homework is done LMAOO

But let's be real he'd never pass up a chance to spend some alone time with you

Love Porco to pieces but he's probably a bit dense when it comes to talking to people one on one?? Like people he's interested in

"Yeah, all the boys are playing COD right now and they want me to join but I said I had to study with you ://"

But then when you tell him that he can go play if he's done with his homework he's like "no shut up, stupid. I want to help you"

He'd lowkey be such a parent-type friend when it comes to studying at his apartment, like he has a dinky little platter of like vegetables out because it's good brain food, what a dork

You can convince him to order a pizza if you end up needing to stay later, and he orders your favorite toppings without you having to tell you what they are

"When Sasha and Niccolo hosted that make-your-own pizza thing two months ago, that's what you put on your pizza so I just figured that's what you liked I don't know"

When you ask him how much you owe him he just rolls his eyes. "Shut up and get back to writing your paper, dummy"

At one point he asks you how many pages your essay needs to be he is shocked??? He thought it was like a three page paper, so when you tell him it needs to be a minimum of twenty four pages he dies a little bit

"People have to write papers that long???" He might even call the pizza place back and order a dessert, paying the delivery charge and tipping a driver again just because he really had no idea that's why you were so stressed

You can definitely get him to take your mind off of studying by asking him about something relating to soccer or his family and he does not realize that you're doing it to get your mind off of your work, he's just happy to talk to you lol

Reiner:

He'd probably be similar to Porco in that he gets most of his homework done like right after class, it just makes more sense to him to do it that way

Like the content is fresh in his mind and then he doesn't have to worry about it

If it's a paper or something he just goes to the library immediately after class and gets lost in his research and then a couple hours later he leaves with at least half of it done, does the rest the next day

But I'm sure he still gets super stressed out about all his work

So when you ask him to study with you he's totally down, he could always review his notes for the 18th time!

When Reiner does need to study he cram studies in the most unhealthy way?? I bet he had a really healthy and disciplined way of studying in high school, but something about college and his anxiety just caused all of that academic discipline to go out the window

He could have a paper due in two months and if he puts it off for a day he starts to beat himself up over it :(

Still a good student obviously!! Just doesn't take care of himself as kindly as he should

When you guys study together it's different, because he'd hate to encourage you to treat yourself the same way he treats himself

You guys go and get lunch together before you study and he pays (duh), and he even suggests that you guys go on a walk or something before actually settling down to study

Maybe you talk about the work you need to done to plan what you need to get done today, what you can afford to put off until the next day, etc

Or maybe you talk about something else entirely, just about how nice the weather is! You both end up feeling refreshed and ready to get started once you make your way to the library

Since he's going to school for education he's probably extremely helpful when it comes to memorizing your terms and concepts

He'll make flash cards for the both of you with your respective content and you guys take turns quizzing each other

Unrelated but I bet he has decent handwriting?? But when he makes the flashcards for you both he makes sure it's all super neat and perfect, gets weirdly paranoid about misspelling a word or his handwriting looking bad, causing you to misspell a word on your exam day??

"Reiner, trust me, you're already helping me so much, I appreciate all you do for me!"

His face just goes bright red and he nods, unable to speak so he just goes back to making more flashcards

He'll print out your essay once you're done with it, paying the $0.94 per page charge for each draft, so he can highlight and annotate it for you

You explain to him that he can just edit it on his laptop but he refuses, he thinks he will do a better job editing with the hard copy in hand

Will 100% take you to get ice cream again once you guys are done studying, to recap how you did, whether you got done the stuff that you set out to, and plan another study date hangout

Levi:

I feel like Levi would be really intense when it comes to studying?

Like he just looks extremely focused in on his work, so it might seem like he's angry when you invite him to study with you in the library

But he insists that you go to his apartment instead. The library is going to be full of students trying to get their work done, and he can even cook for you afterwards, if you'd like

He writes down his apartment address and you agree to meet there at 3 o'clock sharp

When you get to his apartment there's classical music playing, he already has his laptop on with like four open books next to him so he can work on his literature paper

If you're also working on an English paper he has dozens of anthologies for you to borrow, if you're looking for a specific one he'll go to his bedroom (where he has a massive bookshelf) and will pull it out for you

"Bartleby the Scrivener? By Melville, yes? Hm, I think I have that in my seventh edition, let me--" and without waiting for response he's gone, and then he's back moments later with a massive text in his hand. He'll flip to it in the anthology and he'll set it on the table for you, "here, I've even annotated my copy"

Actually if you ask him to help you write your paper he would also be really helpful?? Very direct with it, but as long as you know that going into it, it's fine lol

I love the idea of him being a graduate student who teaches an undergrad/Intro to English Studies course, so he's extremely comfortable with helping you with your papers, even if they're not about English!

In group settings he can be really intense, and even though he's still extremely direct one-on-one, he is patient with you, and understanding as you explain what confuses you about your assignment

If you are going into this study session hoping for it to be a date of some sort, prepare to be disappointed because this man keeps his academics and his love life separate lol

Until he hears your stomach grumble!!

The second he does, he shuts his laptop and makes his way towards the kitchen to start dinner

"You can't do your best work on an empty stomach, and the noise will be distracting anyway," lmaoo

If you offer to help out he'll take it, maybe suggesting you prepare the vegetables while he makes the pasta sauce

He might brush a hand against the small of your back to signal you of his presence while reaching over to grab something next to you?? Like a spice or something

While you cook together, he'll ask you how your day was, he might even offer to pour you a glass of wine, so long as it doesn't spoil your appetite

He might smack your hand away from snacking on the vegetables you cook, but will also accept if you try and feed him one-- "to see if it's seasoned properly"!!

Levi would think about the taste for a second, humming with approval before turning back to focus on his entrée with a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks.

He will keep up this flirty energy all throughout dinner, but the second the dishes are washed and put away, he is opening up his laptop and going back to work, straight faced as ever oops

Zeke:

So cocky?? For no reason?? Someone put this man in a time out

"So you need my help, hm? I guess I can take a peek at your paper."

Even if you just ask to study with him, he's going to assume you need his help

Which can be nice if you're stubborn or have a hard time asking for help (like me lol)

He's extremely observant, so the moment you begin to reread a paragraph to see how to improve it, he's at your side. "Okay, what's the problem here"

He can tell by the way you furrow your brows, or the way you begin to read aloud quietly to yourself!! The man doesn't even understand why he's so lasered-in on you, he's basically studying you while you study lmao

I will always headcanon him as being a coach for a little league baseball team in his hometown, and he does most of his own homework on the train ride there and back

So when you ask him to study with you he's usually not doing much himself anyway, just there to help you out

Maybe he'll bring some papers to grad from the class he's TA'ing for, because he wants to show off a little bit hahahah

He'll even invite you to the classroom that he TA's in, because he knows that it's going to be empty by the time you finish your last class

Similar to Reiner, he'd prefer to edit your paper with a hard copy so he can 'grade it' with the rest of his undergrad essays, but he'll send you to the printer down the hall with his credit card, might even tell you to pick out something from the vending machine for yourself (they say chivalry is dead)

He's also extremely thorough though when editing your paper, gets so quiet that it's almost scary, but he's super encouraging and helpful with all of his notes, even just rewriting things for you in red ink in the margins

After he's finished he'll go through his revisions with you so that you understand why his rewrite of your thesis is stronger, more concise, so that in the future you know how to do it yourself

Not that he doesn't love to help you! But he wants you to learn the stuff

Honestly if he's helping you learn terms or remember concepts he is also using a whiteboard like Armin lol

I think Zeke would want to be a surgeon or oncologist to follow in his dad's footsteps, but I think he'd have a real gift for teaching and should go into that instead, he could teach one of his little league kiddos medical terminology and have them pass a test he's that good at teaching people

Talks with his hands a lot while he's explaining concepts to you, circles phrases and draws arrows connecting them to other ideas, basically acts as if he's a professor giving a lecture to you lol but it's okay because he looks hot doing it xoxo

He won't say much once you nail your practice term quiz or show him your final draft of your paper, just nod and give a little "hm, not bad, (Y/L/N)"

But deep down I think he'd be going crazy because Zeke loves an intelligent and competent partner?? I mean don't get me wrong he'd probably like someone less intelligent than him so he can a) feel better about himself and b) manipulate them without them knowing, but he'd be kind of speechless once he's aware of your intelligence and his heart is racing a little bit?? He doesn't realize he's experiencing feelings for the first time hahaha

For that reason, once you are done studying he is like "okay bye" and he is gone in like two seconds UNLESS you start up a conversation with him about little league, then you may be able to convince him to walk you back to your apartment (who's being manipulated now, Zeke)

AHH I'm so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you liked them!! My next set of headcanons is going to be some meet-cute scenarios that I think would lead to your relationship with the guys respectively, so this was tough!! I was torn between it being an established relationship or them kind of crushing on you/a study date-not-date type of thing?? But I really hope you liked them and I appreciate your patience with me :)

[starsenha]

DUET - audition day (chapter 1)

The vibe at Decelis University’s dance studio was buzzing with that special kind of electric tension that only comes before a major audition. The regional dance competition was looming, and today was the big day to see who would snag the solos and duet spots. The studio was alive with dancers who had been pouring their souls into practice.

You were near the mirrors, adjusting your dance shoes, surrounded by your comforting and familiar friends.

“Hey Hoonie, can you pass me my water bottle?” you called out while stretching your legs.

Sunghoon, ever the attentive one, handed it over with a small smile. “Here you go. Ready to crush it?”

“Born ready,” you replied confidently, winking at him. “How about you?”

“Always,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Don’t forget to breathe out there,” Chaeryeong teased, poking you in the ribs. “You’re gonna need all the oxygen you can get.”

You laughed, swatting her hand away. “Thanks, Chae. Like I needed the reminder.”

Kim Gaeul, bouncing over with her endless energy, chimed in, “Come on, everyone! Group stretch! We need to be limber and ready to go.”

As you all began your stretching routine, Sunoo joined in, his dramatic flair evident even in his warm-ups. “I’m telling you, if my solo doesn’t make the cut, I’m staging a freaking protest.”

“Oh please, Sunoo,” Jeongyeon laughed. “You say that every time. Just dance your best and stop being so dramatic.”

“Never,” Sunoo declared with a flourish, making everyone laugh.

You noticed your younger brother, Riki, nervously fidgeting with his dance shoes in a corner. Concerned, you excused yourself from the group and walked over to him.

“Hey, little bro,” you said softly, sitting down beside him. “You doing okay?”

Riki looked up, trying to hide his anxiety with a brave smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… you know, a bit nervous.”

You smiled warmly, ruffling his hair. “It’s normal to be nervous, Riki-kun. Just remember, you’ve practiced hard for this. You’re gonna do great.”

Riki pouted, swatting your hand away. “Stop treating me like a kid, onēchan. I’ve grown up, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Grown-Up,” you teased, poking him in the side. “But you’ll always be my little brother, no matter how old you get.”

He laughed, his nerves easing a bit. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

You grinned. “I know. But seriously, just dance like you always do. You’ve got this. You’re amazing.”

“Thanks,” he said, a genuine smile breaking through. “Good luck to you too.”

“You too, little bro,” you replied, giving him a quick hug before standing up. “Now, let’s show them what the Nishimura siblings are made of.”

As you returned to your friends, Riki took a deep breath, feeling ready to face the audition.

The door to the studio swung open, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. Jay and his friends walked in, and the room grew quieter, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Jay, exuding confidence, glanced around before locking eyes with you. “Ready to lose, Nishimura?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing the annoyance rising within you. “In your dreams, Park. I’ll make sure you eat your words.”

You and Jay had always hated each other. No one really knew why, but ever since you two met, it was like oil and water. Constant clashes, endless bickering, and no love lost.

Sunghoon, always protective, stepped closer to you. “Ignore him, Yn. Just focus on your audition.”

Jay’s friend, Jake, with his playful puppy-like demeanor, clapped Jay on the back. “Let’s see that solo of yours blow everyone away, Jay.”

“Piece of cake,” Jay replied confidently, shooting you a challenging look.

Lee Heeseung, shy but thoughtful, observed the scene quietly, while Yang Jungwon, ever the mediator, tried to lighten the mood. “Let’s all just do our best. No need for unnecessary drama.”

Mischievous and loud Shin Yuna added her flair to the mix. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that, wonnie? A little rivalry never hurt anyone.”

As the two groups sized each other up, you couldn’t help but feel the competitive fire burn brighter within you. You exchanged a glance with Chaeryeong, who gave you an encouraging nod.

“We’ve got this, boo,” Chaeryeong whispered. “Just dance like you always do.”

Gaeul, ever the cheerleader, piped up, “Yeah, Yn! Show them what you’ve got!”

Yuna’s friend Ning Yizhuo whispered something to Yuna, making them both giggle. You noticed but chose to ignore them, focusing instead on your warm-ups. Just before Jay’s group made their way to the other side of the studio, Jungwon patted your shoulder.

Jungwon was the only one in their group who was genuinely nice. “Good luck out there, you’re gonna kill it,” he said, with a big smile.

“Thanks, Won. You too,” you smiled back at him before he joined his friends.

The dance instructor, Lee Bada, stepped into the center of the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. “Alright, everyone. Today, we’ll determine our soloists and the duet for the regionals. Each of you will perform a solo, and the best male and female solos will be selected. The second best will form our duet.”

Hyunjin, the co-captain, added with a smirk, “Give it your all. We’re not holding back.”

The auditions began, each dancer giving their heart and soul to their performance. The tension in the room grew with each passing performance, the competitive atmosphere thick enough to cut with a knife.

It was finally your turn. You stepped into the center of the room, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. The music started, and you let the rhythm take over. Your movements were precise and powerful. You poured your emotions into the performance.

As you finished, the room erupted in applause, your friends cheering loudly. Even Jay had to admit, begrudgingly, that your solo was impressive.

“Not bad, Nishimura,” he said, trying to hide his admiration.

“Save your compliments for someone who cares,” you shot back, though your cheeks flushed with pride.

Next up was Jay. He sauntered to the center, exuding confidence. The music began, and he launched into a dynamic routine, his movements powerful and controlled. Every leap, every spin was executed with precision. He was a force to be reckoned with, and you couldn’t help but watch in awe, even as you hated to admit it.

When he finished, the applause was thunderous. His friends whooped and cheered, clearly proud of their leader.

“Top that,” Jay said, flashing a victorious grin at you.

“Don’t get too cocky, Park,” Sunghoon interjected, glaring at Jay.

The auditions continued, with each dancer giving their all. Sunghoon’s performance was cool and composed, his shy nature melting away as he moved. Chaeryeong’s dance was sassy and full of energy, while Riki showcased his talent with a playful yet precise routine.

Finally, the auditions were over. The dancers gathered, sweaty and exhausted but satisfied with their efforts. Lee Bada and Hyunjin exchanged glances, clearly impressed with the talent on display.

“We’ll announce the results tomorrow,” Bada said, her voice calm but firm. “Great work, everyone. Rest up and be ready for practice.”

As the dancers filed out of the studio, the tension between you and Jay remained. You both knew you had given your best, and now all you could do was wait.

“You were amazing, Yn,” Sunghoon said softly as you walked out.

“Thanks, Hoonie. You too,” you replied, smiling at your friend. “Let’s hope we both make it.”

m.list / next

taglist: @sincerely-sunny @realrintaro @onlyhyunjin

[duskamethyst]

broken reverie.

a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, college AU

warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)

pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader

summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.

maybe you went too far.

or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office. 

but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.

the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.

his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.

he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.

“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.

nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.” 

you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”

“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%. 

then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take. 

“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”

“no, of course not.”

“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.

“well, i–” 

“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.

it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption. 

“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?” 

“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.

“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”

you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”

“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”

sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.

you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way. 

gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.

“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”

lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.

“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”

“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”

“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”

you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.

“i-i did it for.. attention.” 

“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.

you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise. 

“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”

well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.

“no, sir.” 

nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.

“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”

“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.

“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”

you stay silent to let him continue.

“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?” 

“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”

nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either. 

“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”

“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”

“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.

you blink, perplexed. “what?”

“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.” 

you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.

“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?” 

“no, no! that’s not it. i just..” 

an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take. 

“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit. 

“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”

“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.” 

you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.

you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.

“no hands.” he quickly demands. 

you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.

nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses. 

you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.

“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.

with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top. 

“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock. 

you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long. 

you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).

“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.

“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command. 

nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.” 

leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.

“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.

you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat. 

“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?” 

your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?” 

nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.

“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?” 

you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.

“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”

you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.

“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it. 

without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student. 

however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.

“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”

“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”

his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.

“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”

nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief. 

“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything. 

nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”

you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs. 

“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.

“y-yes.” your breath hitches.

“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”

“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.

nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”

a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.

“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”

with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.

you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”

not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.

as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth. 

“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”

a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.

“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.

“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”

you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.

“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”

you shake your head, he slaps again.

“you act like one. stop lying.”

nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick. 

“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.

“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation. 

“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.

“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly. 

the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy. 

“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.

“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”

“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”

“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock. 

“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”

you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join. 

“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.

both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole. 

your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place. 

“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”

nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[vocaloidxreader]

May we plz have Luka x reader headcanons where the s/o (he/him) is significantly shorter than Luka and a bit self-conscious (ie, nervous/ashamed) about it?

of course, here you are my friend!

————————

Megurine Luka ~ Height Insecurities

Luka herself is on the taller side, so she’s gotten quite used to her partners being shorter than her, so much so that she seems not even to notice your height at first. It wasn’t something that anyone could control, after all, so why pay attention to it at all?

Of course, when you two started dating, she began to take a little - okay, maybe a lot- of notice. You were just so cute! And the perfect height for her to wrap you up in her arms from behind, or to sit in her lap, and, of course, forehead kisses. So many forehead kisses.

So it’s quite a surprise for her when, one day, you mention in passing how you wish you were taller. She’d stop whatever she was doing just to make sure she heard you right. It was a little difficult for her to understand your feelings at first, which brought her to the conclusion of…

“Who told you that?” A shadow falls across Luka’s face as she continues, idle frustration bubbling up inside her from the idea of some jerk making her boyfriend feel so insecure about himself. “Do I need to have a /talk/ with someone about their attitude? Was it Len? I swear if it was Len…”

You know more than enough about Luka’s headstrong side to quickly ease her suspicions. She’s always been the “excuse me, he asked for no pickles” kind of girlfriend, and, evidently, was not opposed to chewing out anyone who dared to make you feel less of yourself with that withering glare of hers.

Once she understands that the problem isn’t someone else - it’s your own doubts, her aggressive manner drops, and she watches you with concern as she gives your hand a slight squeeze.

“… I can’t say I understand completely. You know I’ve always loved every little thing about you,” she admits, “and especially the way you fit in my arms so perfectly. I didn’t realize it was such a worry of yours.”

“But trust me on this. Anyone who’s ignorant enough to think less of you because you’re not tall isn’t worth your time. I’ve had more than enough people tell me I’m too ‘intimidating’ or ‘masculine’ to date, to learn that for myself.”

“And besides,” she teases, giving a playful poke to your cheek, “my height didn’t make you think less of /me/, did it? So why should it be the other way around, either?”

Going forward, Luka would take extra care around the topic of your height. If you asked, she would stop some of her previous ways of showing affection - for example, resting her chin on your head, or kissing your forehead. She’d never meant the gestures to exaggerate your difference in height, of course, but that didn’t make it any less acceptable to do if you didn’t like it.

And gods forbid if someone dared to poke fun at your height, for they would be met with one of Luka’s infamous, frosty glares. They’d better make sure they locked their windows tonight.

[souichioneshots]

Grim Reaper 【Souichi x Reader】 (Fluff)

Souichi claims he's been cursed. Now everything he touches dies! However, that doesn't stop him from spending time with you. Can you hold back from touching the boy and dying? Let's find out~~~!! ahahaha

(I think this counts as affectionate!reader but idk lol)

Souichi carefully held onto the drink in his hand as he sat back down in between your legs.

Resting his body against your soft chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist. He was completely engulfed by your love. Although he was a bit embarrassed at first by how affectionate you could be, it had become a habit for him to want to be so close to you all the time.

【And now back to ‘DEATH’S ASSISTANT’】

Souichi took a sip of his drink as the show you two had been hooked on recently started back up.

It was a Japanese drama about a Grim Reaper who had been assigned a foreign assistant. Apparently, they fell for one another as soon as their eyes met. Every day they tell each other how much they love one another, but because of Death’s curse, he is unable to touch his love. The show depicts their everyday work lives. Showing how far they would go for one another to prove their love, but never being able to be truly affectionate. Souichi wasn’t really into these types of lovey-dovey dramas, but the supernatural antics that it included drew him in deeper and deeper.

【Assistant, we cant! You know if we touch, you’ll die!】

【I would risk dying a million times just to feel your lips pressed against mine even just once, Death~.】

“Guuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!”

Souichi laughed as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. The scene was so cheesy and overdone, but you loved it. For a morbid girl, you really were a sucker for love stories.

“You’re gonna miss the show if you don’t look up.” Souichi chuckle and patted your head.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you continued to watch the last few minutes left of the drama.

“Death really outdid it with his outfit today, huh?” Souichi commented.

In today’s episode, Death had been wearing a bright red suit with a black suit-shirt instead of his usual black suit and black tie.

“I think it really suits him.”

“You think everything suits him.”

“Of course. If you’re handsome, then anything and everything looks good on you.”

Souichi lifted his shoulder up towards his head, squishing your face against him.

“Owwww Owowowow!!”

“What’s so handsome about that old actor?”

Souichi finally released the pressure, allowing you to relax.

Pulling your head away from his body, you rubbed your cheeks.

“Hmm…Well, for one his eyes are absolutely beautiful. Thin, sharp, and the dark circles around them make him look so mysterious. And his dark, wavy hair looks so soft! I just want to run my hands through it as mess it up even more.”

Souichi couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as you described what you found attractive about the ‘dreamy man’ on the television. He honestly felt like you were just describing him. He knew you must have a type, but he didn’t think it would be this similar to him every time. You must have felt like you won the jackpot with him.

“But what I really like is the fact that he’s always wearing a suit.” Wrapping your arms back around his waist, you squeezed him a bit “You can tell his assistant also thinks the same thing because she's always staring at him. She just wants to touch him soooo much. But she knows she'll die if she does! Haa~~ I love it!”

Souichi hummed in amusement as he listened to you speak.

Seeing that he fit all the other conditions you looked for in a guy, Souichi thought of a perfect way he could use this little fantasy you love so much for his amusement.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

When the next night came, Souichi quickly got to preparing himself. He had asked if he could go over to watch a movie tonight.

He usually didn’t pay much attention to what he wore whenever he hung out alone with you. But tonight, he decided to mix things up a bit.

Making sure he had everything he needed in his pockets, Souichi set off to your house.

Creepily excited laughter slipped from the boy’s lips as he walked down the street by himself. He couldn’t wait to see your reaction when you laid your eyes upon him.

Finally reaching your front door, he knocked.

“Good evening~” Souichi greeted as you opened the door.

Before you could greet the boy back, you froze. Your mouth gaped open and your eyes widened as you looked upon your boyfriend.

“S…SS..S-Suit..Suitsuitsuit…” You brought your hands up to your face, unsure where to place them. This was the first time you had ever seen him wearing such an outfit before.

Finally bringing your hands out towards Souichi, you tried to touch him.

“Ah!” Souichi quickly jumped back. “You can’t.”

A look of worry and confusion grew on your face as the boy rejected your touch.

“Remember when I called you this morning and said I might have messed up a curse?”

You shook your head yes.

“Well, it turns out that as a side effect, whatever I touch now dies almost immediately.”

Leaning against the doorframe, you looked at the boy with a smile of disbelief.

“You’re just copying ‘Death’s Assistant’ aren’t you.”

Souichi hated how well you could read him. But that didn’t mean he was going to admit that you were right. At least not right now.

“No! I swear.” Sliding one hand into his suit pocket, he leaned down onto the grass that covered your front yard. “Every time I touch something as delicate as a flower…” Pulling out his hand from his pocket, he placed it over a daisy that had been growing for some time. “Well... This happens.” Moving back up, Souichi revealed that the flower he touched had shriveled up and died.

“No way…” You whispered as he allowed the dead flower to trickle onto the palm on your hands.

“Yeah…It’s a bummer.” Placing his foot over the real flower still planted in the ground, he tried to hide the evidence. “But I’m sure this curse will wear off by next week. 2 weeks at most.”

You quickly moved to the side as Souichi let himself into your home.

“What are you doing? Wouldn’t it be dangerous for us to be together right now?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. As long as we don’t touch that is.” Giving you a smile, Souichi kicked off his shoes and made his way down to your bedroom.

As the raven-haired boy walked down the hall, he moved his hands close to the wall, just barely coming into contact with the wallpaper. He honestly thought it would be really cool if he could make the wallpaper roll up and crumble into pieces just from touching it. Just like in the drama. Perhaps there really was a curse out there that would give him that ability.

Finally reaching your room, he took ahold of the door handle and gestured for you to go in first. Being in a suit really did make him feel like more of a gentleman. It was kind of fun.

Sitting on your bed, Souichi watched as you set up the DVD player.

He tried to hold back his foolish laughter as he thought about how miserable you were going to be all night from not being able to touch him.

You. The girl who could barely go 5 minutes without at least leaning against his shoulder, was now being forced to keep her hands to herself in order to avoid never waking up again.

This was gonna be hilarious.

“So, lemme ask you.” You pulled the boy out of his own little world as you sat on the bed with him. “Why the suit?”

“The suit? Oh. Umm…” Souichi’s mind froze for a second. He was going to say an excuse that all his other clothes suddenly turn to dust when he touched them, but now that sounded extremely stupid and unbelievable. Especially since he was able to touch your bedsheets with no problem. “…To match the whole ‘death’ theme...”

“Oh~ That makes sense. Always gotta be prepared for a funeral when everything you touch dies, right?”

“Exactly!”

Souichi let out a small sigh of relief as you commented an equally believable reason for the suit. He was glad you were almost always on the same level as him.

Finally dropping the subject, you pressed the button on the remote for the movie to play.

Souichi tapped his finger against the bed in annoyance as you kept a good amount of distance from him. It didn’t seem like you would try to touch him any time soon.

Looks like he needed to take things up a notch if he wanted to have some real fun.

Leaning forward, he swiftly took off his black jacket. You quickly ducked as his hand almost came in contact with your head.

Leaning his arm on your pillow, he relaxed his body. A single nail stayed poking out from between his lips, making it look like he was smoking.

Souichi couldn't help but smile as he saw you take quick glances at him. Your eyes kept moving from his pants to his white suit shirt, and finally to his face. He could see a blush spread across your cheeks as you quickly turned away from him, avoiding his gaze. You looked completely head over heels for him.

Sliding to the side, you leaned ever so close to the boy.

“Does the ‘being killed on the spot’ rule apply even over clothes~?” A blush spread across his pale face as you whispered in his ear, making sure not to come into direct contact with his shoulder. He could see your hand hovering over his suit pants, craving to touch the expensive-looking material.

Did you really not believe him or were you just begging to die?

Moving a bit away from you, he replied. “Probably not a good idea. Haven’t tested that out yet…” He let out a little laugh as he mentioned how awkward it would be for him to have to wake up your family and tell them that he killed you by accident.

Souichi looked from the corner of his eyes as you let out a small sigh and moved back into your own little space. This sudden rule of no touching looked like it was taking a toll on you.

Honestly, he was expecting you to be a bit more excited by this situation. After all, this was one of your favorite fantasies. To love one another, but never be able to touch unless you were willing to die on the spot. You should be spewing cheesy lines like in the drama, not sulking.

Moving the nails against his teeth, he tried to think of a way to fix things. After all, this wouldn’t be fun if you got too sad and decided to stop acting like your usual self halfway through the night.

Moving his arm out towards you, he pulled on the edge of his suit jacket.

“I think it’d be fine if you held onto this though…” He turned his face to the side, trying to hide his blush as you smiled once again.

Throughout the movie, Souichi kept his arm up in the air as you happily held onto his jacket. His body felt oddly unsatisfied from not being properly touched by you. But, this was his own fault for deciding to go through with such a cold prank.

You both stayed surprisingly calm and silent as the movie played on.

Souichi kept the nails in his mouth pressed tightly against his teeth as he kept his eyes on the screen. The movie you chose wasn’t half bad at all. The effects, the props, the acting. All very realistic. To be expected from new foreign movies.

However, this feeling of calmness didn’t last long as an unnecessarily long make-out scene between the main characters had started up again. Another specialty of foreign horror movies. The acting for these scenes just had to be extremely believable as well…

Souichi tensed up a bit as he felt you let go of his jacket, finally allowing him to rest his hand back down near his body.

It wasn’t that he disliked these types of scenes. But something about watching them alone with you always made him feel a bit restless.

Souichi moved his legs closer to his body, trying to get in a more comfortable position. He really regretted starting this whole ‘touch me and you’ll die’ prank now.

Pulling on the black-tie wrapped around his neck, he tried to calm himself down.

“People get really horny right before they die, huh?…”

Souichi noticed you jolt a bit at the sound of his voice. All he got in response from you was a little ‘yeah’ and an awkward laugh.

As the teens on the screen started to undress, Souichi noticed you also start to fidget around in your spot. You looked like you wanted to sit closer to him, but you knew you couldn’t.

Shakily bringing your hand over his leg again, you whispered. “Are you sure I’ll die if I touch you over your clothes?...”

This time he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just moved his leg closer to you, giving you an okay to try and touch him.

He watched as you cautiously placed the tips of your fingers on his knee. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized you were going to die from touching him over his clothes.

Careful not to accidentally touch any part of his body not covered by his clothes, you turned towards his.

Pinching the fabric of his suit jacket, you pulled his hand up. Souichi’s heartbeat sped up as you moved his bare hand to touch your clothed breast.

“Looks like it works both ways. As long as your skin doesn’t come into direct contact with mine, I’ll be just fine.”

Souichi’s eyes followed your hands as they moved back towards his pants once more.

You were really pushing the envelope.

But, if you were gonna play like that, then he saw no harm in playing along as well.

Sliding his hand down from your chest to your waist, he pulled you to come closer to him.

“That means we can’t do anything more than this though…” Souichi whisper as he inched his face closer to yours. “We should stop now before we do something that can’t be undone.” He teased you with lies, practically ordering you to go further.

“You don’t wanna die from one of my curses, do you?”

“It’d be a blessing to die from one of your curses…”

Something within Souichi switched on as he heard you whisper your confession to him. That felt like the most romantic thing you'd ever said to him.

Without saying another word, Souichi pressed his lips against yours. To think he was the one who ended up not being able to hold back from you this time.

Suddenly, pressing your hands against his shoulder, you pushed yourself away from the kiss.

“Agk! My heart!” Holding your hand against your chest, you threw yourself back to lay on the bed. “I…I!!! Gah…”

Souichi couldn’t help but laugh as you pretended to die in an over-exaggerated manner.

You opened one of your eyes, looked at the boy, and then closed it again. Souichi could see you trying your best to hold back a smile as you laid perfectly still.

“You knew I wasn’t cursed the entire time, didn’t you?”

“...Was it that obvious?” You laughed a bit as you finally sat back up.

“When did you figure out I was lying?”

“Hmm~”

You just hummed and swayed your head side to side. Not telling him when you knew for a fact he was not actually cursed.

“If I can be honest, you should have said something more believable for the suit. Then maybe I would have believed you completely." Leaning up against the boy you thought for a second. "Like umm... All your other clothes disintegrated the second you touched them. But because you've worn this suit to a funeral before, it was the only thing that stayed intact."

"Ahh!! I swear I was gonna say that!!"

You let out a hum and looked at the boy once again with a smile of disbelief.

"I swear!"

Getting up from the bed, he put on his suit jacket again.

"Let's restart." He sat back down on the edge of your bed. "Ask me why I'm wearing a suit."

"Okay." You also moved to sit on the edge, next to him. "Hey, Souichi. Why are you--" Unconsciously, your hand brushed up against his. "AGK!" You threw your body back and pretended to die again.

"No!! Y/N!!" He picked you up by your shoulders and forced you to sit back up. "Again."

As his hands moved away from your shoulders, he accidentally touched your neck. Making you jump back again.

"Agggkk!!"

"Stop dying!!" He yelled as you held your hand up to your neck and pretended to choke and die.

Souichi let out a loud groan as you continued to laugh at his frustrated expression.

This prank wasn't as funny as he thought it would be.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Angrily in love

Summary: Wanda and Reader are on the run after a mission goes wrong, and they do not have a good relationship. When Wanda is approached in a diner by strange men, Reader confronts them. And some other things. Based on prompt from stay-casual, thanks again dear.

Warnings: Language; All fluff, but also humor. enemies stubborn idiots to lovers.

Words: 3.002 K ////// Read on AO3

Marks > @stay-casual @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

You and Wanda didn't get along very well.

Which was a problem since you were running away together.

It all started two and a half weeks ago, and honestly, you would blame Steve if anyone asked.

You were both assigned to an infiltration mission into a drug trafficking headquarters in Mexico. It was not your typical job, but there was evidence of Hydra involvement.

And so you and Wanda were team partners, and everything was going very well, until she pissed you off for some reason, and the two of you started to argue. Maybe you miscalculated the impact of your words, because the second you call her "angry little witch" Wanda used her magic to push you, but before you could think of fighting back, there were about fifteen rifles pointed at both of you.

Disguise completely blown, Wanda was quick enough to get you two out of there, and with the entire country on alert, you needed to keep a low profile until it was safe to return to the compound.

So now you were forced to deal with each other's company, and you broke your cell phone when Natasha sent a emoji and a message telling you guys to enjoy your vacation.

At this moment you were driving the van that you managed to steal from the barracks before you left, while Wanda slept in the passenger seat. You reached out to turn on the radio for a bit, but when you started humming the music, it stopped playing. Looking quickly to see what had happened, you let out an incredulous sigh as you saw the familiar red light dissipate in the air.

- I'm sleeping. - Wanda grumbled, and you frowned in irritation as you turned on the radio again.

- Not my problem.

The music started again, but then stopped. You let out a angry whimper.

- Be quiet. - She said without opening her eyes.

And then you turned the sound back on. And Wanda turned it off. And then you did it again. This went on for three minutes, until you hit the brakes, and Wanda opened her eyes with the sudden movement.

- My God, what is your problem? - She shouted, and you ignored the honking sounds behind you as you took the keys off.

- You know what, Maximoff? - You replied angrily, unbuckling your seat belt. - You're driving now.

You dropped the key in her lap, and got out of the vehicle. Turning around, you opened the back door of the van and climbed in. You heard Wanda grumble angrily as she jumped into the driver's seat, but you just leaned against the wall of the van and closed your eyes. A minute after she started the car, you heard the sound of the radio.

Ignoring the urge to break the equipment, you decided to fall asleep.

//-//

Driving for about three hours, Wanda finally parked the van. The lack of movement woke you up, and you yawned lightly as you stretched.

You heard the door open and close, and caught a glimpse of Wanda's red hair as she walked away from the van, so you got out next.

It was a motel, and judging by the amount of cars in the parking lot, it was decent enough to not have diseases in the sheets.

You hurried to catch up with Wanda, and when she entered the reception area, she didn't hold the door, and you almost hit your face on the wood. Swearing softly, you then entered.

- Good evening. - You heard her greet the receptionist, who didn't look very pleased to serve more people. - Two rooms please.

- Sorry, honey. - He said chewing on a small stick between his teeth. - We only have one spare room.

- Wait, what?

- It's the season for Los Muertos, senorita. - clarified the man, and seeing Wanda's expression, he added. - All the places will be crowded with tourists, you are lucky to find anything available around here. - He says with a fake disappointment in his voice.

Wanda let out a sigh, while you were distracted by the fish in the aquarium on the premises.

- It's okay, Wanda, you can sleep on the couch. - You tease without looking at her, but she ignores your comment and hands the money for the room to the receptionist.

- Have a nice stay. If you want something to eat besides the minibar, there is a dinner behind the pool area. - The man says as he hands over the key. Wanda doesn't smile, and leaves the place, you lightly tap your fingers on the aquarium while smiling at the fish before following her.

You two walk to the room in silence, and you sigh as you enter, observing the place. It was simple, yet cozy. The redhead commented softly "thank god" when she notices that there are two beds, and threw the bag she was carrying on top of one of them, before walking to the bathroom, while you start looking for the remote control.

//-//

Two days sharing the same room, and you were surprised that you hadn't killed each other yet. There were a few arguments, mainly over having to share the television, or the delay in the shower, but otherwise things were going pretty well.

It was lunchtime, and you had just used the street phone to try to get in touch with Natasha when you saw Wanda leave the room in the direction of the dinner. She gave you an angry look before she left, and you rolled your eyes before following her, after all, you were starving.

- Why are you following me? - she asked angrily as you walked beside her.

- I'm not following you, I'm going to lunch. The restaurant is not yours. - You retort, and she rolls her eyes.

- God, and you have to have lunch with me now?

- Who says I'm having lunch with you? - you retort impatiently. - I intend to sit fifteen tables away.

- Great!

- Great indeed! - You retort as she opens the door and hurries inside, taking a seat at one of the first empty tables. You curse softly to yourself, and then enter the restaurant.

Unfortunately the only empty table you can find is the one in front of Wanda, and you can see her staring angrily at you. You smile wryly in her direction, and she waves her middle finger at you. But then the waitress approaches, and she looks away. You scold yourself for holding your gaze on her longer than necessary, and then you are served next.

The restaurant was considerably crowded, there were many groups of diverse people eating together, and you noticed that there were also truck drivers, and families, and even young people your own age. Fortunately the service was very good, and soon you were having some fries and meat.

You were finishing your milkshake, slightly distracted by the newspaper that was left on the table for the customers, when a sound of male laughter caught your attention.

Two men, considerably older than you, approached Wanda's table, both exchanging mischievous laughs.

- Come on, let's ask her out. - You heard one of them remark with a chuckle. And then you were already getting up, anger boiling in your chest.

- Hi there, sweetheart, what's your name?

- I'll give you five seconds to leave before I shove my shoe up your ass! - you shouted before Wanda could answer anything. Both men looked at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

- Who the hell are you? - One of them sneered, but you shoved him hard enough to make him realize that you were no ordinary girl as he stumbled backwards, his eyes flashed with fear.

- Leave her alone.

The man stumbled backwards poking his friend in the chest, and they both gave you a angry look before leaving. The restaurant was bubbling over with small comments, but you exchanged a glance with the waitress and she didn't seem willing to kick you out for this.

You turned to Wanda next, and she had a very annoyed expression on her face.

- Fine, Wanda, what is it? - you asked impatiently when noticing her face.

- I don't need your help. - She retorted angrily. - I can handle these things just fine on my own.

- Wow, you are really ungrateful. - You sneer, crossing your arms. You look around for a moment, and notice that men in the same profile are still assessing Wanda from afar. You feel your body boil with irritation at the malicious looks they cast at her, and you stare back at them, a murderous expression on your face. They exchange a startled look and you wait for them to stop looking before turning your attention to the redhead - Can I sit with you?

- Excuse me? - she asks angrily, but doesn't even wait for you to answer. - No way! Piss off!

- You are so annoying. - You grumble before going back to your desk.

But you're not even hungry anymore, feeling a strange irritation at the tip of your stomach as you remember the way the men looked at Wanda, so you take the last sips of your milkshake and stand up again. Wanda pretends you don't exist as you walk past her table, and you roll your eyes at the childishness.

- Good afternoon. - You greet the cashier with a smile. - Sorry for the mess. The idiots were harassing my...colleague.

The cashier smiles, accepting the money you gave her. Then she frowns at the amount, and you clear your throat when you say to include Wanda's table bill as well, and she just nods in agreement.

- She's a pretty girl. - The cashier comments as she separates the money. You make a noise of agreement, without really paying attention. - She seems like the kind of girl who breaks not only boys' hearts.

She gives you a suggestive look, and you blink in surprise, averting your eyes and feeling your face heat up.

- Thank you. - You grumble as you get your change.

Leaving the restaurant afterwards, you chide yourself for immediately looking for Wanda through the windows. Turning your head forward, you go back to your room.

//-//

Wanda really got annoyed with your little scene in the restaurant, and didn't talk to you when she came back to the room, not that you were complaining.

And then it was time for her to watch some stupid program, and you left the room, because you were not in the mood of arguing about who's turn it is to watch.

You thought about getting a drink, so you returned to the restaurant, which at this time was considerably emptier.

The cashier from earlier was now serving tables, and smiled at you when you sat down at the counter.

- What will you have, dear? - She asked.

- A hot chocolate please. - You asked, leaning your elbow on the table and your face in your hand. With your free hand you tapped your fingers lightly against the counter.

It didn't take long to get your order, and you and you got a little pensive when the waitress returned, wiping the counter beside you.

- That was quite a scene earlier today. - She comments with a smile. You laugh, slightly embarrassed, but willing to talk.

- Yeah, sorry about that.

- No problem, sweetie. - She comments. - Young people are always so nervous when jealous.

You choke in surprise, feeling your face heat up.

- Jealous? I wasn't...

The waitress giggles, placing the cloth on her left shoulder.

- It's all good, child. - she says. - My husband used to be jealous of truck drivers in this region too. And with a beautiful girlfriend like that, I imagine it's hard for you.

She remarks with a smile before going to serve another customer, and you widen your eyes in surprise, feeling your face very warm.

Then you spent the next five minutes frowning, repeating how absurd it was that anyone would insinuate that you were jealous of Wanda, until the waitress was back again, serving you a doughnut that you didn't ask for but accepted anyway.

- Just to clarify. - You start between one bite and another. - I am not jealous.

The waitress giggles, arranging a few things on the counter.

- I also noticed that you two sat at separate tables, reminded me of my Miguel. - She says with a smile. - We used to fight so much that he would sleep on the balcony.

You laugh lightly, running your hand through your hair.

- But you know, all the fights were just an excuse to get each other's attention. - She says, leaning her hands on the counter in front of you. - To this day, I still believe he would leave the key off the key chain just to hear me grumble and squeeze my butt when he apologized. - She says with a smile that makes you laugh.

And then she is pouring you some more chocolate, and you are ignoring the growing nervousness in your stomach at the thought of her insinuations that you and Wanda were like a couple fighting.

- Rosa. - You call out after reading her name on the badge, she looks at you curiously. - How... How did you know you were in love?

- During a fight, of course. - She says, laughing. - We are in high school, and we had a fight during a soccer game. It was so hilarious. We started fighting about who would play the penalty kick for our team, and one of our classmates tried to get into an argument with me, and Miguel punched him in the nose, yelling that no one could fight with me but him.

You widen your eyes in surprise, but then laugh, finding the story a bit absurd. But the waitress has a nostalgic look in her eyes, as if she is missing something, and you frown.

- What... what happened to Miguel?

You watch her smile slowly die, and something in her gaze change. And then you cough uncomfortably, feeling a pain in your stomach.

- My Miguel was trying to improve our life when the German agents arrived. - She said in a somber tone. You stumbled out of your seat, trying to breathe. - The avengers had no right to take him away from me.

Fucking great, you thought wryly as you felt your throat closing. You stumbled out of the restaurant, falling to your knees. You think you saw a red light before you lost consciousness.

//-//

Something was moving, and it took many minutes for you to realize that it was the surface you were lying on. And then you slowly opened your eyes, blinking as you progressively tried to regain awareness.

- Finally, spitfire. - A female voice commented with irony, and you were startled to see Natasha sitting beside you. You tried to sit up in bed, feeling your body ache to do so.

- Damn it. - You complained of pain, and then you realized that you were on a spaceship. - Wow, how did I get here?

- By being the worst field agent. - Nat scoffed lightly, getting up from her seat to get you some water. You noticed that you were in the medical compartment of the ship. When she handed you the glass of water, you let out a satisfied grunt, drinking it all quickly.

- Let me guess, that lady really poisoned me. - You say, handing the glass back, and Nat sits down beside you on the bed, laughing lightly.

- Seriously, you went out on a simple recognition mission, and now you have shooting, escape and poisoning in your report.

You laugh before you ask.

- How did you find us anyway?

- Wanda, of course. - She tells. - I think you collapsed and she wrecked the whole place. We arrived before the Mexican government arrested you two. Also, the waitress will be questioned, but I don't think she knows much.

- Wait, what do you mean by wrecked the whole place?

Nat laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

- You know how Wanda's magic gets when she is nervous. And well, she was very nervous.

You nod, looking away, feeling a warmth in your cheeks and chest. And then Nat is getting up again.

- Well, I have to tell Steve that you are awake. You've had enough sleep so join us when you can. - She comments with a smile before leaving.

When you look down you notice the needle marks on your arm, where the antidote was probably placed, you sigh slightly.

You stand up, realizing that you feel almost no discomfort in your muscles. Before you can move toward the other room however, there is someone coming in.

- You're really awake. - Wanda comments seriously, stopping in the doorway.

You laugh lightly, deciding to tease her.

- Ah, yes. And I heard that you lost your shit when you saw me pass out. It's touching, really.

- And you are still a complete idiot. - She retorts as she approaches.

- Yes, and yet you still love me.

- I do.

- Wait, what?

But then Wanda advances on you, kissing you on the mouth. It takes a microsecond for you to overcome the shock, and kiss her back with your hands on her waist. You both sigh against each other's mouths, and when air is needed, Wanda pulls her face away slightly.

- Don't ever do that again. - She says breathlessly.

- I didn't choose to be poisoned, you know. - You retort with mild irony. Wanda rolls her eyes smiling as she lets her hands go up to your cheeks.

- I don't want to lose you, even if you are an annoying jerk. - She says and you laugh lightly.

- Thanks for the compliments, dear. It helps my self-esteem. - You reply with irony and Wanda laughs, stealing a few kisses from you.

- Don't be such a crybaby. - She jokes, but something in her eyes changes. - You're also brave, and funny. And sweet, and infuriating attractive.

- Wow, this is turning me on. - You mock lightly, stroking her back and making her laugh. And then you're stealing kisses between your giggles, until you rest your foreheads together. - Just for the record, even though you are a temperamental annoying little witch, I am completely in love with you.

Wanda nods smiling, kissing you again.

[ereawrites]

Diego’s alarm blares you awake at 5:45AM - you know this without even opening your eyes because, unpredictable as Diego is, he always wakes up unreasonably early to work out. You know this because he always texts you at 6AM to bitch about how stiff his shoulders are.

Today, you’re sure, his whole body will be screaming at him. Having shown up at your door last night just after midnight, covered in dust and dirt and bruises, Diego had simply shrugged off your concerns.

“What-“, you started, but he was already sliding past you into your apartment. At least he had the decency to pat your cheek as he passed.

“Nothing to worry about.”, Diego said, rifling through your refrigerator as if it were his own. He didn’t need to know that you keep extra eggs in stock for him, after all. “I jumped out of a window, that’s all. Totally fine.”

His back was to you and you could still see his stupid little smile. “Well, excuse me for not figuring that one out right away. Unforgivable.”. He huffed out a quiet laugh at that, gingerly turning to face you with your last bottle of milk in hand.

“You want this for breakfast in the morning?”

You did. You absolutely did. He dropped off a box of your favourite cereal two days ago, claiming to have been ‘passing by’, and that was total bullshit because the closest store is 15 minutes’ walk away from your house, and he shouldn’t even have known your favourite cereal because Diego Hargreeves was very much not your boyfriend.

Anyway.

His bust lower lip had twisted up into a too-soft smile when you said, “Nah, go for it. Just don’t drink it so fast that you’re sick this time. I’ll be in the bathroom to help fix you up when you’re done.”

-

The window is now taking its revenge. Is this his karma for destruction of property, you muse to yourself as you stretch the kind of stretch that makes your whole body shake, or for waking you up last night? Diego grunts. The alarm shuts off and you hear his phone clatter unceremoniously back onto the nightstand.

“Good morning.”

“Ah, shit. Sorry. Go back to sleep, I’ll be out of here in a minute.”. Bless his soul, he really does sound apologetic. Thankfully, the deep rumble of his first-thing-in-the-morning voice does wonders to put you in a good mood with him.

When you roll over to face him, you’re not quite sure what you notice first: the gentle, bleary brown eyes, or the bruise smacked right across his cheekbone. “Hm, it’s okay. How are you feeling?”

Diego’s palm envelops the back of your hand and gives a quick squeeze. “Great.”, he hums, despite how exhausted he looks. “Thanks for letting me crash here. I’ll bring you breakfast after my workout.” - and you’re at least 60% sure he was born with persuasive powers, too, because the way he looks at you leaves you reeling in the early morning light, and he’s halfway sat up before you can even react.

“Nope. No. Absolutely not. You need to rest today.”, you insist, grabbing his wrist to stop him in his tracks. Diego is a stubborn little shit and he looks at you like you’re an idiot - sweetly, sympathetically, and you’d want to kill him if he hadn't managed to carve out such a soft spot in your chest. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, and you permit it if only to admire them. It’s far too early for subtlety and, hey, Diego’s always loved flattery.

“I don’t have time.”

When flattery doesn’t work, reason is your next best bet. A little guilt can't hurt, either, right? You pout up at him. “Who’s committing crimes at 6AM, baby? It can wait.”

(You should not call Diego that. He is not your boyfriend.

His face lights up just a bit.)

“Troublemakers.”

He smirks, and you know you’ve lost with that approach. Diego flip-flops between sweetness and sarcasm as if he's attached to a particularly irritating bungee cord, promising you breakfast one minute and deliberately driving you crazy the next. With a brush of his thumb over your knuckles, he’s moving away and stretching his arms over his head with a groan.

You wag an accusatory finger at him, still squinting in the ray of sunlight that manages to penetrate through your broken shutters. You’ll get him to fix it later this week. “Troublemakers like the guys who crash through innocent windows?”

“That’s different-“

“-In fact,”, you smile, poking at the skin of his gorgeous back in a petty attempt to get his attention solely back on you. “Maybe I should report you to the police. Bring down the crime rates and all.”

“You’d love to see me in handcuffs, huh?”, he quips as he stands and stretches again, giving you a perfect view of those lithe muscles in action. Boy, would you ever. But the smugness in his voice is way too evident, even if you can’t see his face: your only option is to scoff. 

“You’d be lucky.”, which is absolutely true (because you would rock his shit), because you’re pretty sure Diego is all bark and no bite, because you’ve seen just enough of his hidden tender side to really believe all his cocky jokes. You try not to dwell on it too much, but a tiny part of your heart believes that maybe Diego really, really cares for you.

Maybe it’s because of how he leans back over the bed to hold your cheek in his palm. God, he has you crumbling with that look in his eyes sometimes. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

Then his touch is gone, and it’s so embarrassing how you almost chase after it, but you smush your face into the pillow with a sigh. He’s stubborn as a mule and you're too exhausted to put up much more of a fight. Maybe you should just let him go for his ridiculous workout. Let him push his tired body, and let him send you an extra bitchy text in half an hour. You’ll ignore him, really teach him a lesson. See how he likes that.

You're just beginning to snicker into the pillow when Diego bends down to grab his shirt, staggers on his bad leg, and whimpers in pain.

Oh, well. Not a chance he's leaving now.

Three weeks ago, Diego had insisted on giving you some sort of self-defence training, which you had only actually agreed to on the assumption that you’d be able to annoy the shit out of him with it later. The main focus had been on ‘using the opponent’s size against them’ - this was not the first time you’d understood the reason behind all the Batman jokes - and, oh, this is the perfect opportunity to test your new skills.

With all the grace of a drunken bull, you leap from the bed, nearly tripping on the tangled bedsheets, and wrap your arms around his waist. Diego reaches out to steady you even as you're dragging him back towards the bed, tumbling down with him in tow and turning the impact into a roll that leaves him on the far side of the bed, with you curled tightly around his back, arm draped across his chest. The final step is to sling your leg over his hip, effectively pinning him with the least possible pressure on his sore muscles.

“Honey-”, Diego begins, but then you're running your fingers through his hair and it dissolves into a quiet little oh that you’re sure looks perfect on those pouty lips. It strikes you that this is the first time Diego has let you hold him - you're always the little spoon, on the rare occasions that both of you give in to the desire to touch each other, and you’re shocked by how right it seems to feel him melt into your touch. All the fight vanishes from his body in seconds.

“…I sleep better when you’re here, you know.” - and it’s not using any tricks to get him to stay, it’s just the plain truth. Diego’s breath hitches in his throat. It’s partially for selfish reasons that you want him to stay in bed, you admit, but mostly because he deserves a rest for once. You worry for him more than you would ever let him know. He probably figures it out, anyway, once you give in and drop your forehead to rest against the back of his neck. Somehow, you can't bring yourself to care - it’s much nicer to just enjoy how he kisses your wrist on the next brush of your fingers through his hair.

He’s leaning into your hand even before he pretends to grudgingly concede. “Just another hour.”

You’ll see about that.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character. 

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

***************

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side. 

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke. 

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you. 

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

[alexiethymia]

snippet (res ipsa loquitur)

“Look who’s here. Professor Yang’s favorites!”

Professor Yang raises an eyebrow at that, as if to say that he didn’t have favorites, but Professor Kim Eun Sook pays him no mind. Dear friend though he may be, and though she would trust him with any case, his hard-ass act didn’t fool her. He could say whatever he wanted, but his subtle actions belied his fondness for his once-students turned professionals. Just the fact that he regularly invited them back to Hankuk to discuss cases was just one example.

“I don’t know about Prosecutor Han here, Professor Yang’s protégé that he is, but I’m certainly no favorite when I had to be Erica Shin just to get him to eat with me.” Lawyer Kang has certainly grown up to become a balanced professional, but Professor Kim is happy to see that she’s kept that refreshing bluntness of hers.

“If being Professor Yang’s favorite means additional work like getting called back to school, then I’d rather be your favorite.” Prosecutor Han for his part hasn’t changed much either. Although he’s settled into himself now, becoming as calm in actuality as he sometimes presented himself back in school, that teasing gaze towards Kang Sol A was still present how many years later.

Professor Yang just stares deadpan at what he deems to be nonsense from his former students. “I never taught the both of you to be lax as students, much less as professionals.”

“We’re just joking, Professor,” Kang Sol A – Lawyer Kang now – can easily look her once-savior in the eye and smile, as Professor Yang just raises an eyebrow, “You know we’re always glad to help with whatever we can.”

“We must have inherited your curse as a workaholic, Professor,” Prosecutor Han jokes. Even when he was just Han Joon Hwi, and not yet Prosecutor Han, he never had that fear towards Yangcrates. Frankly, he admired him, though it had always been a complicated emotion with the way all their fates had been tied.

“Ehem. Who would have thought that when I asked you to come hand-in-hand to my office so many years ago as students, you’d be doing it again and again now that you’ve become professionals.” Professor Kim is only half-serious. Even then she’d had an instinct about these two – one with the sharp mind and logic and the other with the fiery heart and passion. They would balance each other out, though she wouldn’t have picked up on it if not for Joon Hwi’s propensity to be a knight-in-shining armor for his then frazzled seatmate.

Kang Sol A mock-scoffs before smiling prettily, while sharing a gaze with an amused Joon Hwi. It was good to see that they still got along marvelously so many years later.

Professor Yang stares long and hard at them as if they were a crime scene he was investigating, before going on ahead and asking Joon Hwi to follow. Eun Sook’ll poke at his thoughts later though she’d be lucky if he felt like sharing them.

“See, you really are his favorite,” Kang Sol A nudges Joon Hwi playfully, while he only chuckles. “No need to worry Lawyer Kang. You’re my favorite at least.” Both Eun Sook’s eyebrows raise at that. With time and his new position, it seemed as if Joon Hwi had gotten more direct, if at all possible. Ah but perhaps, Eun Sook thinks while observing how Kang Sol A just laughs in response, rather than time it was circumstances that forced him to change his approach.

A slight movement behind Professor Kim’s desk catches all of their attention, and a doting smile appears on Eun Sook’s face.

“Aigoo. Is this your daughter Professor Kim?” Kang Sol positively beams at the small curly haired girl hiding shyly behind the Professor’s desk. She was so adorable! It reminded Sol of Byeol when she was at that age. Looking sideways, she sees Joon Hwi sporting an equally wide and fond smile. It was no wonder. With how he was with her younger sister, first when they’d met and until now, Kang Sol surmised that he must be ridiculously fond of children as well. Distantly she thinks that he’d be a wonderful father someday, although uncharacteristically cynical, she also has to admit that she doesn’t exactly have any good bases for comparisons.

“Yes,” Professor Kim says, proud, like all mothers are, “Say hi to oppa and unnie here. They work with the law just like mommy.”

Funnily, it’s a race between them for the privilege of lifting Professor Kim’s daughter up in their arms, but Joon Hwi lets her win (much like he always does). Kang Sol A openly cooes, while Joon Hwi hovers closely to the both of them, also introducing himself to the young girl.

It’s such a heartwarming sight that Professor Kim almost wants to take a picture of it, even if it would be inadmissible as evidence later on.

They’re momentarily interrupted when someone enters the legal clinic.

“Ah Miss, it’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“Ahjumma!” Kang Sol exclaims happily upon seeing the lady who ran the Bad FaMa website enter the legal clinic. Seamlessly, she adjusts Professor Kim’s daughter on her hip, before transferring her to Joon Hwi who carries her on his arm. “How are you? What are you doing here? It’s not another defamation case is it,” Kang Sol asks worriedly. Of course, she’d defend her properly this time since she was now a full-fledged lawyer, not only giving half-baked assistance and having to rely on Joon Hwi because she wasn’t prepared yet.

“Ah no, no need to worry Miss – ah my mistake, it’s Lawyer Kang now isn’t it? You sure showed them didn’t you.” She smiles warmly, proudly, at Kang Sol, and Kang Sol gets happy flutters in her heart and stomach, “I volunteer here at the legal clinic sometimes. Professor Kim has been helping me out with lobbying for stricter child support laws, and the other lawyer who volunteers here - Lawyer Jeon - has been helping me with cases of single mothers. She’s been telling me all about you. I’m really glad to see you doing so well.” Though it’s been a while since Kang Sol has seen her – since when she was still a law student in fact – the older woman and that case will always hold a special place in her heart. She considers it as her first case, and though it did cause a slight rift between her and Joon Hwi, she had been the first person outside of smug Second Judicial Exam Passers and terrifying law professors who had genuinely thanked her for the legal service she provided. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Kang Sol owes a lot to her for reigniting her reason for studying law in the first place.

“And Prosecutor Han, I’m delighted to see you’re doing great as well.” Joon Hwi inclines his head at her while responding in kind. Even with a child on his arm, he looks every bit the respectable Prosecutor, and Kang Sol could sometimes shake her head in amused resignation at how flawless her – (Friend? Best friend? Family?), - at how flawless Joon Hwi is. She shakes her head for a different reason this time around, to get rid of that brief interruption in her mind.

Ahjumma smiles, full of maternal care. “What a lovely daughter,” Joon Hwi and Kang Sol exchange wordless glances and smiles, fully agreeing with her assessment – Professor Kim’s daughter with her soft curls, and shy and polite demeanor really was just too cute for words, “the both of you two have,” – before freezing in their tracks.  

Ajhumma seems not to notice the slight disturbance in the force, nor Professor Kim’s silent but far from inconspicuous chuckles, since she goes on, “Perhaps I’m just biased, but I’d always thought that the both of you suited each other well, even back then. And to see the both of you with a daughter of your own makes me really happy. We have enough parents who abandon their kids, but I know you would be such loving parents who would do everything and anything in your power to protect your daughter.” She grasps Kang Sol’s hands in her own and says sincerely, “Congratulations to the both of you.”

Prosecutor Han for all of his brilliance in court seems for the first time at a loss for words. It was a misunderstanding yes, but a reasonable one in Eun Sook’s mind. She would have probably thought the same, and yet for all that Eun Sook imagines they’ll just brush this off and regain their easy momentum, the pause lasts far too long this time around, and Professor Kim suddenly worries.

Kang Sol is frozen, and looks to be a million miles away. It’s to the point that the woman grasping her hands finds her smile slowly falling. There are no flustered denials, nor a hint of red anywhere. Kang Sol is blank, and this worries Professor Kim since the younger girl has always been full of life, of emotion, and to see this is disconcerting. Joon Hwi sees her from the corner of his eye, and Professor Kim is suddenly transported back to that Civil Code classroom so many years ago, for he once again saves her from having to answer, as always reliably following-up after her.

He slowly lowers her daughter down who immediately rushes to her. Upon seeing that, realization breaks across their guest’s face. “She’s not our daughter, but Professor Kim’s,” he explains smoothly, although it may be a bit redundant now. That seems to snap Kang Sol from the daze she’s in as she energetically reassures their guest that there was no need to worry regarding the misunderstanding. 

Eun Sook picks up her daughter and sends a questioning gaze towards Joon Hwi who seems reluctant to meet it. He smiles that characteristic smile of his, the one that seemed to say that he had everything under control, that there was nothing that could trip him, before politely excusing himself from the room to follow after Professor Yang. “He must be tired of waiting.” He doesn’t rush, nor does he run. Both his voice and gait are measured and paced, and though he catches Kang Sol A’s eye in that form of wordless communication that Professor Kim observed was common to him, her, and even Professor Yang, Kang Sol A seems to break it first to rejoin her conversation with their guest and her.

Joon Hwi stares a little longer at her profile before exiting.

The warm atmosphere the legal clinic had when the two had entered earlier seems to have dissipated.

Professor Kim really cannot help but worry.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 3 | And Miss Out on Mum Meeting the Girl You Married Without Telling Her? Not a Chance

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly finally gets to meet Luke and they try to convince him that this marriage is not some elaborate plot to manipulate the press.  And Tom makes a critical error.  We learn more about Molly and her past. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Tom regretted drinking two cups of espresso the next morning before heading to Luke’s. He definitely regretted not eating anything more than a piece of toast with butter and marmalade. Even after Molly offered to make something for him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you eggs, an omelette? I could probably manage some French toast before we have to leave.” Molly sipped her tea as she ate some oatmeal. 

French toast sounded divine at the moment as Tom’s stomach did somersaults. Molly’s knee bounced in the passenger seat on the way to the Prosper office. 

“Do you think Luke will yell at me?” Molly asked. “I don’t do well when people yell at me.”

Tom’s head snapped over at her. She sighed. 

“Foster parents are not always kind. Bio parents can be worse.” She wrung her hands. 

He reached over and squeezed Molly’s knee. “I promise I won’t let him yell at you.” 

“Thank you, Tom. Are we telling him the truth?” 

“Only if necessary.” 

“Then what are we telling him?” 

“That I went to Vegas, and I fell madly in love with you and on a whim we got married.”

“A fanciful tale.” Her head dropped to her chest. 

“Oh, I don’t know, darling. You sell yourself short. You’re bright, funny, caring and dare I even say easy on the eyes.”

Molly blushed. “Thank you. You are not so bad yourself. Although I seriously question your dietary habits.”

Tom chuckled. “I’ll work on it. And I hope after all of this we will be good friends.”

“Me too.” 

“Looks like we are here.” Tom parked the car on the street. He hustled around to open Molly’s door and help her out. “Time to face the firing squad.” Her eyes widened. “Kidding!”

By the time the meeting was done, Molly wished it had been a firing squad. 

-

“Luke, this is Molly Bishop, now Hiddleston.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist. “My wife.” 

“My condolences.” Luke shook Molly’s hand. 

Molly’s brow furrowed. “I…” 

“Of all the stupid shit you have ever fucking done—” Luke started in on Tom. 

“Luke, watch your tone.” Tom jabbed a finger in his publicist’s face. “You are not to yell at Molly.” His bright blue eyes flashed and his fists clenched. 

Luke took a step back. “Right. Take a seat and let’s see if we can straighten this out.” 

They sat next to each other. Molly reached for Tom’s hand and he took it. Luke sat down behind his desk, staring at the two of them. Luke pinched his nose hard and took several deep breaths. Before speaking, he poured a glass of water and dropped two Alka-Seltzer into the water. Molly stared at the whole thing. Tom leaned over. 

“For later. Luke says I give him indigestion.” he whispered.

“And headaches.” Luke added.

“I can understand the feeling.” Molly muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon!” Tom twisted around to face Molly. “Et tu. Is this about the vegetables?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat one every so often. You’re not 21 anymore.”

Tom gritted his teeth. “I said I would work on it. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“You’re the one who brought it up. I was just making a comment.”

Luke’s head bounced back and forth like watching a tennis match, a smirk growing on his face.

“You two are good. Really good. Damn Tom, the lengths you will go to… hiring an actress to pretend to be your wife, that’s—”

“We got married, Luke. In Vegas.” Tom retorted. “Darling, do you have the copy of the license?”

Molly grumbled. “I do, but we are not done with the whole diet thing.” She rummaged through her purse and produced the folded piece of paper. “Show him the photos.” She whispered to Tom as she handed over the license. 

“I’m not showing him the photos unless I have to.” Tom hissed.

“Show me the photos, Tom.” Luke beckoned him. 

Tom side eyed Molly and handed over the license and his phone. Luke glanced at the license and then scrolled through the photos, eyes growing wider. He zoomed in on one and squinted. 

“Is that a spider ring?” he asked.

“His name is Clive.” Tom deadpanned.

Luke cuts his eyes at Tom. “Of course, you named it. You wouldn’t happen to have the ring, would you?” He turned to Molly.

She let loose a breath, exasperated. “Honestly,” she jabbed a finger at Tom and then Luke. “I was not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.” She dug through her purse again. “You are both lucky that I planned ahead.” Molly slammed the two Tiffany boxes on the desk. “There, here is your pound of flesh.”

Luke opened the boxes and found the spider ring and plastic gem ring. His eyes went to their proper rings and then ran his hands through his hair. 

“Holy shit, you got married.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I have been saying that for the last 24 hours, mate. Can we move on?”

Molly giggled. 

“I… I… apologize. Sorry.” He sputtered, he turned to Molly. “I’m sorry, Molly. You have no idea the things this man has put me through.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hey! I—”

“Not talking to you, Tom.” Luke held up a hand. “I am talking to your bride. Clearly the reasonable one. Although she did marry you, so…”

Tom slumped in the chair. “Two of you. I thought you were on my side.”

Molly reached over and rubbed his arm. “I’m always on your side, honey.”

Tom smiled and leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, darling. Do you believe me now, Luke?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I do.” He slammed his hand on his desk, rattling his water. “Now let’s talk about these.” He held up several newspapers.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally ended the meeting. Tom was starving. Luke grilled Molly about her background. By the end of everything, Tom now knew that Molly spent the ages of 12-18 in foster care, went to college where she worked two jobs to make ends meet, and has no contact with her younger brother who was adopted. Tom felt a twinge of guilt listening to Molly tell her life story. He never really bothered to ask. 

Luke led them to the door but stopped short. 

“How did your mom take the news, Tom?” Luke asked. Tom froze and paled. Luke leaned in. “You did tell her?”

Molly glanced between them. “I thought you called her when we got home.”

Tom ran his hands through his hair. Little bits stuck up. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “I forgot. I was distracted by someone yelling at me.”

“You haven’t told your mother about us?!” Molly screeched. 

Luke chuckled, which soon turned into a full belly laugh. “You are so dead, Tom.” Molly gasped. “You will be fine, Molly, but pray for your husband. There is nothing scarier in this world than Diana Hiddleston mad at her only son.” 

Molly gulped. “I will keep that in mind. Now if you excuse us, we have some calls to make.” 

Tom nodded, still reeling from the fact he didn’t tell his mum, or his sisters, that he got married. Fake or not. He hoped she hadn’t seen any of the photos yet. But knowing Emma and Sarah, they sent her the links. “Right, calls.” 

Molly pushed Tom out of the office and towards the elevator. She waved bye to Luke as the doors closed. 

“That went better than expected.” Molly shifted her weight from side to side.

“Yeah, yeah!” Tom blinked and came back to reality. “You were brilliant. What made you think to bring the rings?”

“People have the tendency to believe you when you can present physical evidence. That, coupled with the photos, lends credibility. I mean, who gets married with a plastic spider ring?” She laughed and Tom joined in. 

“Genius, really. Luke would have never—” Tom’s stomach rumbled. He blushed. “You were right I should have eaten something.” 

Molly stretched to reach his cheek and gave him a quick peck. “You will soon learn I am always right. Let’s find you some food and then you call your mother.”

“Fine.”

-

They found a place for Tom to grab a sandwich since it was too late for breakfast and not quite time for lunch. Molly stared on as Tom inhaled the sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water. 

“Did you taste any of that?”

Tom glanced up at her as he poked the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes.” 

She shoved a napkin towards him. “You have crumbs on your face.”

Tom swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Call your mother.” 

Tom slouched. “Can’t we wait until we get home?” 

“No.” She stared him down. “If you don’t do it, I will.” Molly lunged for his phone, but Tom was too fast and grabbed it first.

“I’m calling her right now.” He held the phone to his ear, praying it would go to voicemail.

“Tom!” Diana’s warm voice filled his ear. “How are you doing, love?”

“Doing good. A bit of jet lag, I was in Vegas over the weekend.”

Diana hummed. “And how is Luke?”

Tom chuckled. “Angry at me as always.”

“If you would just listen to him…”

“I like her.” Molly popped in.

Tom waved her off. 

“I know, Mother. Listen,” He fidgeted with his hair again. Molly realized it was an absolute tell when Tom was nervous. “I was wondering if you might like to grab some lunch this week. We can catch up. So much as happened since I last saw you.”

“I would be delighted, Thomas. Why don’t you come up to the house? Does Wednesday work for you?”

Tom mouthed “Wednesday” to Molly, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Like I’m doing anything? You and Luke are the only people I know here.”

“Right.” He returned to the call. “Wednesday is perfect, mum. Noon?”

“It’s a date. Don’t forget to bring that wife of yours, Thomas. I am quite keen on meeting her.”

All the blood drained from Tom’s face. “I… I… can explain—”

“I’m sure you can. On Wednesday. I have to go, love. It was good to chat.” The line went dead.

Tom stared at the phone. “I’m so dead. She knows about you.”

“Oh, she knows. You are her son. And didn’t you mention having sisters? They totally ratted you out.” Molly smiled at him.

-

Tom had some appointments on Tuesday which kept his mind occupied from seeing his mother the next day. Molly took some time to figure out how to change her name, get a new passport, and figure out how to maneuver life in a foreign country. Tom took her to get a phone that would work. 

“Here you go.” 

The first thing she did was snap Tom to add to his contact list. He was laughing in the photo.

“Don’t use that one!” Tom pouted. “Let me pose.”

“But I like this one. It captures your essence.”

But now it is Wednesday morning. Tom woke up early to go for a run. Molly was already up, sipping tea in the living room.

“Can I join you?” she asked upon seeing Tom in workout gear.

“I run about three miles…”

“Sounds perfect. Give me two minutes.” She bounded off the couch towards her bedroom. 

Tom fiddled with his headphones until Molly emerged in sneakers and workout leggings. Over the ear headphones around her neck. 

“Ready to go.” She tucked her phone into a pocket. “I will just follow you.”

“Let me know if you need to turn around.” Tom winked as they set off.

They returned home about thirty minutes later.

“Sure you don’t want to go another mile?” Molly bounced on her feet. 

Tom breathed hard. “Maybe another time. I’m a bit out of shape. You run?”

Molly nodded. “Most days I run. If I get up in time. I miss the gym.”

Tom chuckled. “We need to get you a membership. And I need to ..get into shape myself. Can’t let my wife show me up in paparazzi photos.” he half-joked. 

Molly coughed. “They take photos of you running?!”

“Sometimes.” He took a sip of water, his heart rate going back to normal. “Definitely now with you in the picture.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, stepping towards him, grabbing the water bottle from him. “Think they are out there right now?” 

Tom glanced around and sure enough, he spied a few cameras with zoom lenses down the street.

“Yup.” 

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe we should give them a more scandalous photo.” 

Tom leaned down. “What did you have in mind?” he smirked as Molly tugged his head towards her and her lips crashed against his. She sighed and Tom slipped his tongue into her mouth. Molly did the same. As he fisted the back of her shirt, Tom noticed one of Molly’s arms moving. 

“AH!!” He screamed as the cold water poured down on his head and Molly jumped back laughing.

“I thought you needed a little cooling off.” she laughed.

Tom lunged for her with a smile on his face, droplets of water falling from his hair. 

“You’ll pay for that!” Tom gave chase, while Molly dashed into the house, screaming and laughing.

She made it as far as the living room before Tom’s long legs caught up with her.

“Got you!” 

Tom grabbed her by the waist to pull her towards him, but their feet slipped and they ended up on the couch. Tom on top of her. Their eyes locked for a moment before Tom scrambled to his feet. 

“I’ll get you all wet.” he commented nervously. “I should…”

“Right.” Molly nodded, sitting up. “I’ll make some breakfast. Eggs and toast. I don’t know what your mother is planning on for lunch.”

“A light breakfast would be best.” Tom shook out his now soaked t-shirt and Molly caught a glimpse of his abs. 

“No problem.” She smiled. 

They both headed off in different directions. When it was time to leave for Diana’s house, Molly fidgeted with her casual dress and knee-high boots.

“Do I look okay?” she glanced at Tom in jeans and a sweater. “I’m overdressed. Look at you, casually gorgeous. I’m going to change. I have nothing to wear. Nothing to wear…” Molly’s face broke down.

Tom wrapped his arms around her. “What’s going on, darling?” She buried her head in his sweater. “You didn’t freak out like this when we went to go see Luke.”

“That was business. This is your mother. I don’t do well with families, particularly mothers. What if she hates me?” 

He kissed the top of her head. “First off, you look beautiful. Second, if my mum hates anyone between the two of us, it will be me. She is going to love you, darling.” 

Molly sniffled and dabbed her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Really?”

“I am 100% certain. Now let’s get on the road.”

Molly smiled and nodded. The fear wasn’t gone, but she felt better knowing Tom would be there with her. That fear came rushing back as they stood on the front step of the house of Diana Hiddleston. Tom reached for Molly first. 

“I’ve got you, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek right as the door opened.

“Gross, Tom. And at Mum’s house no less.” Emma gagged.

Tom’s cheeks turned a bright pink. “Emma! I didn’t expect you to be here.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “What a surprise.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And miss out on Mum meeting the girl you married without telling her, not a chance.” Emma turned to Molly. “Emma.”

“Molly B… Hiddleston.” She smiled and extended her hand. Emma shook it with a firm grip.

“The papers didn’t give a name. She seems nice, Tom. Clearly she doesn’t know the real you.”

Tom continued to blush. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Em. Can we come in or are we eating on the front step?”

Emma held the door open wide and stepped aside. They stepped inside. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

As if on cue, Diana’s voice rang out. “Is that them, Emma?” 

“They just got here!” she yelled before turning back to them. “She’s been cooking all day.” 

Molly gulped. Tom squeezed her hand. An older woman with grey white shoulder length hair. She came up to Tom's shoulder, if that.

“You were supposed to tell me when they got here.” she scolded Emma.

“I was on my way to tell you.” 

“Go take the food out of the oven.”

“But…” Emma protested.

“Go, child. You’ll have the entire meal to listen to me yell. Right now I need a word with your brother.”

Emma pursed her lips as she walked into the kitchen but made a slashing throat gesture, mouthing the words “you’re so dead” at Tom before disappearing. 

Diana wiped her hands on her apron. “Now where is my new daughter-in-law?” 

Molly raised her hand. “That would be me. Molly, ma’am.”

Diana held open her arms and wrapped them around Molly tight. She realized where Tom got his hugging skills. 

“You are just a doll. Is my son treating you well?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“So polite and much shorter than the last one. Right at eye height for me.”

“Mother…”

Diana waved Tom off. “And please call me Diana or Mum or Mom. I promise I don’t bite.”

Molly giggled. “Yes, ma.. Diana.”

Diana hugged her again before spinning to face her son.

“Tom.” She crossed her arms.

“Mum.” Tom grew very interested in the rug on the floor. 

“Do I get a hug?” Diana smiled. 

Tom looked up and grinned. “Always.” The two of them hugged tight, Tom bending at the knees to wrap his arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Diana pulled back.

Her hand reached out and smacked Tom right upside the head. Tom cowered, covering his head.

“Mum!” he howled.

“You got married and didn’t tell me!”

“I was getting around to it. Luke distracted me!” Tom explained. 

Diana smacked his arm. “Do not blame Luke for this, he is a saint! You were keeping this lovely girl away from me.”

Molly beamed as Diana smacked Tom one more time. 

“You think I’m lovely?” she asked.

Diana turned to Molly. “Oh dear. You are perfectly charming. Unlike my wretch of a son.” Another smack to the chest.

“Really, Mum? In front of our guest?” Tom flinched.

“Molly is family.” Diana stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Now with that sorted, let’s go eat.” She spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen. 

Tom hooked his arm with Molly’s. “My mother.”

“I like her.” 

-

Emma and Diane pumped the two of them for every detail about this abbreviated courtship.

“A chapel in Vegas, Tom? Romantic.” Emma sneered.

“I thought so.” Molly added.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom leaned against her. 

“Awww.” Emma commented.

Diana stood to clear the dishes as Emma examined Molly’s ring.

“Let me help you.” Tom rose to help, taking the rest of the dishes. Diana grabbed his arm when they reached the sink.

“I really like her, Thomas. You did well.”

“Thank you. She is something.” Tom smiled.

“Much better than the last girl you brought home.”

Tom frowned. “Mum, I…”

Diana held up her hand. “I know. Don’t mention her. But I will say this. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with me.” 

“You never said anything to me.”

Diana smiled softly and cupped Tom’s cheek. “You seemed so in love and happy. And all I have ever wanted for all my kids is to be happy.”

“Oh.”

“But none of that matters. You have Molly now and the two of you have years of happiness ahead.” 

Tom glanced over to where Emma and Molly hunched over Emma’s phone. Tom’s heart twinged with guilt. 

“Right. Of course.” He smiled.

Molly burst out in laughter.

“What is so funny over there?” Tom called out, heading over to the table.

Emma giggled. “Just some old pictures.”

Tom’s face fell. “No, you didn’t…”

Molly giggled. “You were so skinny and that hair!” 

The two girls fell into a fit of giggles as Diane placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Yes, I like her very much.” she whispered. “Why don’t we pull out the old picture albums?”

Tom groaned. 

[fridayfirefly]

A Friend at Midnight

Read A Friend at Midnight on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 13 - Reverse Robins

Dick hated Gotham Academy. He hated the pretentious, overqualified teachers. He hated the stuck-up, shallow students. He hated their expensive cars and their designer clothes and their smug faces. He hated the way they sucked up to him to his face but called him a circus freak behind his back. Especially, Dick hated their parties, where they drank and smoked and got high on party drugs.

However, a new drug was emerging in the back alleys of Gotham and Batman needed to know how far it had reached. So, as the only member of the family still in high school, it was Dick's job to infiltrate the party and investigate exactly what type of drugs his classmates were using. Dick wasn't happy about it but he didn't have much of a choice. Robin was Batman's sidekick, which meant that he didn't get to pick and choose his missions.

After an hour at Tony McLaughlin's house party Dick could safely say that the worst drug at the party was some ecstasy that Tony's older brother supplied. All Dick wanted to do was wash his hands and get away from the party, hopefully with enough time that he could still patrol with Tim. Dick rarely got to patrol with his older brother, who was so busy with his classes at Gotham University that he only ever came home during breaks.

Dick's plans for the night were derailed when he walked into the bathroom to see a girl lying in the bathtub, headphones in her eyes. Her eyes were closed, mascara messy from the tears. Dick recognized her as one of Lila's friends. She was a quiet girl, which was odd because most of Lila's friends were just as obnoxiously talkative as Lila.

"Are you alright?" asked Dick.

The girl blinked open her eyes. "I'm fine. I just wanted to get away from Lila."

At that moment, Lila Rossi poked her head through the bathroom door. "Dick, how nice to see you here." Lila said his name like it was honey on her tongue, lips curling into a smile as she spoke. Her eyes, however, betrayed her intentions. Dick was good at reading people. Good enough to know that Lila Rossi was bad news. "I didn't think you came to parties like this, not that I'm complaining. I see you've met the foreign exchange student that my family is hosting, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It said a lot about Lila, thought Dick, that she said Marinette's relation to her before she said Marinette's name.

Dick shrugged, putting on his best nonchalant expression. "I just came to check it out. I was about to leave, anyway.

"You should stay. I'm sure you want to get to know Marinette. Isn't she just the cutest? We're best friends, Marinette and I." Lila got a little closer to Dick with every sentence until she was nearly pressed against his chest.

"Actually, I'm going home." Marinette pulled herself up out of the bathroom. Dick noted a few more details about her that he had missed in his first evaluation. There was alcohol on her breath as well as a plastic cup half-full of beer beside the bathtub. There was a bruise on the left side of her face, expertly hidden under her thick coat of makeup but easily detected by Dick, who was trained to recognize signs of abuse. There were also bruises on her knees, slightly obscured beneath her opaque tights, and scrapes on the palms of her hands. The evidence was overwhelming that there was something wrong with Marinette.

Lila rolled her eyes. "We're not leaving until the party's over."

"I'll take an uber."

"You didn't bring your wallet. How are you going to pay for that uber?" asked Lila, her tone starting to harden.

"I can drive Marinette home," said Dick. His offer was half a kindness towards Marinette, who looked like hell even though she was one of the most sober people at the party, and half because it gave him an excuse to leave without blowing his cover as just another partygoer.

"I don't think that's appropriate," said Lila. She looked scandalized at the suggestion that Dick and Marinette would go home together, which was an odd choice, considering she had propositioned Dick many times in his years at Gotham Academy.

"I don't care" Marinette walked out of the bathroom without another word, leaving Dick to trail after her as she made her way to the door, only detouring to grab a coat off of the back of one of the couches in the living room. She walked through the house like she owned the place, shooting glares at anyone who dared to get in her way. Dick didn't know how he had never noticed Marinette before - or, more accurately, he didn't know how he never saw through the mask of an empty-headed party girl that she put on when she was around Lila.

As soon as they left the house, Marinette started shivery, the cold December wind whipping her hair around her head. Dick showed her to his car and she climbed into the passenger seat, warming her hands against the heating vent as soon as he turned the car on.

"Where do you live?" asked Dick once they pulled out of the driveway.

"Lila's house is over on Washington Street," spoke Marinette, shifting in her seat so that she was hugging her knees.

Dick drove in silence, pretending out of politeness that he couldn't see the tears that started to slip down Marinette's face. However, when Marinette broke down in sobs it was much more difficult to not notice. "Could you pull over?" asked Marinette, sniffling as she spoke.

"Sure." Dick pulled his car into a gas station parking lot. After a few minutes, Marinette calmed down, her tears drying up.

"I'm sorry. I've just been having a hard time. Gotham is a big change from Paris," apologized Marinette.

"Lila said you were a foreign exchange student," noted Dick.

Marinette stared out the window and watched the cars driving by. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And now?"

Marinette turned to look at him, an unnerving sadness in her blue eyes. "Have you ever noticed how terrible Gotham is? There's so much pain out there and I can't escape it. It sucks you in and makes you feel like you deserve it."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I guess I should explain how I got here. When I decided that I wanted to participate in the foreign exchange program, I was given a choice between a couple of different host families. Lila called me up on the phone every night for a week before I made my choice assuring me that we would be best friends. All I wanted was a best friend, so I chose her, only to find out that every word she said to me was a lie. At first, Lila just wanted someone to torment, to make herself look and feel better. But when she couldn't wear me down fast enough, she changed tactics. She started taking me to parties and forcing me to get drunk and parading me around in front of her rich friends."

"Can you change host families?"

Marinette shook her head. "All of the other host families for Gotham Academy were given students of their own. Unless another family enrolls half-way through the semester, I'm stuck with Lila. I only left her at the party to get a moment away from her constant attention. I just needed a break."

With this new information, Dick could begin to see how Lila had worn away at Marinette. The girl looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes that were only half-hidden by her makeup.

"If you want to get away from Lila for the night, I could take you to my house. We have plenty of spare bedrooms."

The relief in Marinette's eyes was enough to break Dick's heart. It was obvious that Lila's abuse had taken its toll on the girl. "Thank you."

Dick turned the car around and started driving back to the Manor.

"Can I ask you a question?" Marinette piped up.

"Sure."

"Why did Lila call you a dick? She's usually much better behaved around attractive boys."

Dick let out a laugh. "My name is Dick."

Marinette tilted her head in confusion. "I thought that your name was Grayson?"

"Richard Grayson, but I go by Dick. But I think the more important thing to pay attention to is the fact that you called me attractive."

Marinette blushed. "I'm not going to flatter you by debating an objective fact."

"So you think my attractiveness is an objective fact?" teased Dick.

Marinette groaned. "I just can't win with you, can I?"

"Not if I can help it." Dick pulled the car up the driveway and into the garage. "Let's get you inside. You look cold."

Marinette glanced down at her outfit, the dress that was four inches shorter than the Gotham Academy regulation skirts and the white tights that were so thin they couldn't hide the bruises that marred her knees. "I wanted to wear pants, but Lila threatened to throw out all of my jeans if I didn't put a dress on."

Dick frowned, already making plans to have Bruce open up one of the spare bedrooms for Marinette permanently. There was no way he was sending Marinette back into the lion's den that was the Rossi household. "We've got company!" yelled Dick as he and Marinette came in through the side door. It was best to warn his family when there was company over so that they could at least pretend to be a normal family that didn't spend their nights fighting crime.

Dick led Marinette through the kitchen and into the foyer, just as Tim was coming down the stairs two at a time. "Who's our company?" he asked, giving Marinette an interested look.

"I offered Marinette her one of the spare rooms to spend the night," explained Dick.

"I'm Marinette." Marinette gave Tim a wave. Dick was struck by how different this Marinette looked from the girl who stormed through the McLaughlin's living room like everyone there was beneath her. In the empty foyer of Wayne Manor, with a hesitant smile on her face, Marinette looked vulnerable. Dick could tell that this was the real Marinette, not the mask she wore in front of Lila.

"It's nice to meet you, Marinette. I'm Tim." Tim turned his attention back to Dick, narrowing his eyes. "I"m going to tell Bruce about our guest while you show Marinette to her rooms."

Dick nodded. "Sure, I'll meet you at Bruce's office."

"I hope I'm not causing any trouble," said Marinette once they were alone and making their way to the guest wing.

Dick shook his house. "My brothers have friends over all the time. You're much better behaved than anyone Jason has brought home."

"I'll be on my best behavior," promised Marinette, giving Dick a tentative smile as she brushed one hand against Dick's forearm and the other against the doorknob of the door that would be hers for the night. "Thanks for taking me home."

"No problem," said Dick. As soon as he heard the latch of Marinette's door click he was walking to Bruce's office. Dick was certain that Bruce would have no qualms opening up his house to Marinette once Dick explained her situation. Bruce had a soft spot for kids with dark hair and blue eyes who came from troubled home situations.

All three of his brothers were in Bruce's office by the time Dick entered the room.

"Welcome back, Grayson," Damian spoke first. The neutral look on his brother's face was Dick's first indication that something might have gotten lost in translation when Tim saw him bringing Marinette into the Manor. Looking back, he probably should have warned them ahead of time. Sneaking (though sneaking wasn't necessarily the right word for it since he announced their presence as soon as they got through the door) a drunk girl through the side door might not have been the best idea.

"I heard you brought a friend home with you," said Bruce, his tone aggressively non-judgmental.

Jason wasn't so considerate - his voice was hot with disapproval. "I thought your mission was reconnaissance only. I don't think that bringing home some sleazy drunk girl was a part of that mission."

Dick glowered at Jason, who had been in a bad mood since Bruce discovered and disposed of his stash of cigarettes earlier that week. “Don’t talk about Marinette like that. She didn't have anywhere safe to go, so I brought her here until she finds a place to stay."

"Why don't you take a seat and explain what happened tonight, before we jump to any conclusion." Bruce directed the last part of his statement towards Jason, who pointedly refused to look guilty.

"Marinette is an exchange student from Paris. Her host family has been allowing their daughter to take advantage of her. Lila Rossi has been taking Marinette to parties and plying her with alcohol as some sort of party trick for her friends, knowing that Marinette can't escape the situation without losing her spot in the exchange program. I couldn't, in good conscience, allow Marinette to return home to them, so when she expressed a desire to stay the night somewhere else, I offered up one of the guest bedrooms."

Jason had the decency to look guilty. "I guess I should apologize for jumping to conclusions. Sorry, Dickie Bird. I should've known you wouldn't try anything."

"Is there any way for her to switch host families?" asked Tim, the problem-solver of his brothers.

Dick nodded. "The only issue with her switching host families is that there are none available right now for her to stay with. I'm sure that won't be an issue much longer."

Bruce had his laptop out and was composing an email before Dick finished his sentence. "I'll arrange for our family to be registered as a host family for the Gotham Academy Foreign Exchange Program. Hopefully, we can get this all sorted out soon so that Marinette can move in over the weekend."

Dick grinned. His family might drive him crazy sometimes, but they always pulled through for him in the end. Marinette wouldn't have to worry anymore. His family would keep her safe.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[levihantrash]

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.

[the-mad-starker]

Starker Smut: Perks and Quirks of Being Tony Stark's Bestie

Based off this ask sent by @starkeristheendgame :

Are you even friends if you don't try to out-cum each other? (Could also be out-fuck)

Ty for sending that ask! It really got me inspired and motivated to write (which hasn't happened in so long so 😭💗) I feel like this fic is a bit odd but 🤷🤷 also, if the formatting's weird, sorry 😭 Tumblr fighting me on this

Notes: College AU, same age Starker, porn watching (some straight porn then gay porn), handjob, friends with benefits? Friends to lovers? (I also like to think Oblivious Idiots in love 😅)

WC: 3674 (AO3) 💗💗💗 There are certainly perks to being Tony Stark's best friend. Peter knows it well but he's never taken advantage. It's always been Tony that pushes him into accepting things or just drags him along for the ride. It'd been that way since they met in high school and while Peter got into MIT on his own merit, he never would've been able to afford the cozy two bedroom apartment five minutes away from campus on his own.

"As if I'd let my best friend stay in the dorms," Tony had scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "You'd think you'd know better by now, Petey baby. You're stuck with me so just shut up and say yes." There are certainly perks but then there's… other stuff. Tony's been called the genius of their generation but he also has a few weird quirks that Peter's not sure anyone else would understand. Or at least there'd be a few raised eyebrows if they knew.

When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food.When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food. He's not in either of the rooms so Peter pads over to Tony's bedroom. The door's unlocked and Peter unsuspectingly walks in. As expected, he finds Tony there and the other boy is sitting on his bed. Given the heat, it's not surprising that he's wearing a white tank top but little else. His pants are in a crumpled mess on the floor which leaves him in just his boxers. This is where most people would jump back or run away because Tony isn't just lazing around in bed. Nope, Tony has his headphones in and he's lazily jerking off, eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. Peter's attention is caught by the slow, captivating strokes his friend makes as he plays with himself. It's only natural that that's where Peter's eyes go. The way Tony touches himself is almost hypnotic. His cock is flushed pink and Peter can see that swollen tip poke out whenever the other boy strokes downwards, squeezing along the length until he reaches the base. Peter enjoys the view because Tony makes an attractive sight. Neither of them are really into sports but Tony's body is still solid with hard earned muscles. While Peter has his hyped up metabolism to thank for his lean body, Tony's probably earned his from all the hands-on work he does fixing cars and engineering. Watching Tony like this… It has to be a pavlovian response because this isn't anything new. It's actually become a habit, someone walking in on the other and casually inviting the intruder for a jerk off porn session. Once he sees what Tony's doing, his own body quickly heats up in anticipation. Peter huffs and leans against the doorway, angling his body to hide the evidence away. His arms cross over his chest and he feels his heart beating in excitement. "Do you have any decency?" Peter quips, voice pitched loud enough to get Tony's attention. "Should I come back later?" The other boy pauses and pulls off one of his headphones. Instead of being embarrassed like a normal human being, he grins at Peter. He looks happy to see him which probably isn't the normal response someone should have when their jerkoff session gets interrupted. "Hey, Peter," Tony says and gives his cock a few slow tugs while he talks. "How was class?" He lets go of his cock and gives a nice, slow stretch as though he'd been in that position for a while. It bobs in the air, slick with lube and still achingly hard. Peter sympathizes because his own cock has taken an interest and it's now straining against his pants. Peter then notices the wad of tissues in the small trash can by the bed and his nose wrinkles. "It was alright," he answers. "How many times did you do it already?" Tony follows his gaze and it's only then that he ruefully smiles at Peter. "Do it? You mean, come?" He laughs a little, "You're so weird, Peter. Can't even say come?" Peter blushes but doesn't back down. "You're the one jerking off in front of me," he retaliates. "If it's more than five, I'm leaving." "No, no, don't go," Tony protests. "It was, hmm, twice?" He

shrugs, "You can still catch up." Twice. Tony has already jerked off two times. There's no rule that they have to wait for each other to start but Peter considers saying there should be. "I have homework," Peter hedges, a clumsy excuse because when do they not have homework? Tony rolls his eyes and pats the space next to him. "All the better to get it all out of your system. C'mon, sit down already," he says in an attempt to convince Peter. "Besides, I want your opinion on this vid." Peter pretends to consider it for a second but he's never needed much convincing. It's as he thought earlier, there are certainly perks to being Tony's best friend but then there's this… thing they have going on. Peter doesn't know what to classify it because it's not like they have sex with each other and they're definitely not dating. Tony's just like this, so carefree, curious, and wild. The older boy shows no hesitation when it comes to talking about porn or sex with Peter. It might just be Peter, though, because he's never caught Tony doing it with anyone else. Maybe mildly flirting but then, that's just Tony's personality. He likes to joke around, likes to flirt, and apparently likes to watch porn with Peter. Maybe Peter's the only one that isn't weird about this, about watching porn with a friend. He kind of likes that idea, that he's the only friend Tony does this with. "Okay, fine, fine," Peter says as he unbuttons his pants. Tony smirks at him once he sees how hard he is but Peter just rolls his eyes. What does Tony expect, really? It's pointless to try to hide it now. He does, however, nearly fold his pants and sets them aside because May taught him better. He moves closer and Tony scoots over to give him space. There's ample room on the bed, Tony has a king for some reason, but since they're watching the porno on Tony's laptop, Peter remains close enough that their knees touch. "Ready?" Tony asks but he immediately tugs the plugged headphones out. The telltale sounds of an adult film immediately spills into the room. High pitched moans and the dirty wet sounds of a mouth sucking on a cock. Tony's been on an oral fixation lately. The last two videos they've watched were blowjobs. They never really watch the same video twice because that defeats the purpose of Peter being there to critique it. He settles down in his spot, his left knee and elbow brushing Tony's while his right forearm rests on his thigh. His hand barely brushes against the bulge his erection makes in his boxers. "I'll give you a head start," Tony says to which Peter shushes him. The video that Tony's picked out today has a woman on her knees. She's working on her partner's cock, stroking whatever part of it that isn't in her mouth. Drool drips down her chin and her red lipstick is smeared on her face as she sucks her partner off. It's not exactly Peter's taste but he can tell the woman is Tony's type. Curly honey brown hair cut short to her shoulders. She reminds him of a girl next door type of person, someone he could bump into on the street and never realize she does these kinds of videos. He almost startles when he feels Tony nudge the bottle of lube against his arm. "Thanks," Peter says absentmindedly as he takes it. He's watching the video and his body is slowly starting to heat up. He only knows Tony's returned to jerking off because he feels the other boy's elbow bump against him. A glance to his side confirms it but when he looks up, a shock of heat sears through his body when their eyes meet. Tony doesn't look away so Peter has to. Heat blooms across his cheeks and crawls down his neck. He's always had a hard time looking Tony in the eye while they're doing this. The other boy's gaze is just always so intense like the subject to be investigated isn't the video but Peter. It's a silly thought though. "She's not as loud as the last one," Peter says to offset the awkwardness. His voice is calm and collected but inside, he's shivering from the memory of Tony's eyes on him. Peter squeezes his cock through his boxers. He's already so

hard that just touching himself like this has him trembling in pleasure. Without looking at his friend, he takes himself out. "Yeah," Tony agrees. He already sounds breathless and Peter dares to take a peek at him again. "It was a little distracting last time, all that moaning sounded really fake so I thought this might be better." Fortunately or unfortunately, Tony isn't looking at him this time. He's back to watching the screen, his hand curled around his erection and giving it the same slow teasing strokes as before. Maybe he's pacing himself since Peter still has to catch up. Peter hums in agreement and forces his eyes back to the video. It doesn't really keep his attention though and his mind wanders, eyes glazing over as he focuses more on the sounds filling the room. His mind seems more in tune with what's happening around him though and he zeros in on the sound of Tony's breathing as it turns into soft panting. His own breathing escalates to match his friend's and Peter jerks himself off to the sound of Tony's breathless panting, to the wet sound of flesh sliding against flesh next to him. He lets out a moan himself. It feels good to touch himself after a long day of classes and with Tony next to him, it feels even better. A sharp inhale next to him has Peter's back straightening as he looks at Tony who's biting down on his lip while watching the screen. Tony's eyes flicker to him and his white teeth press down on his bottom lip. "You better not come," Peter grits out even as he's holding back from releasing. "You– ah– You said you'd let me catch up." "Yeah, I won't," Tony grunts, "don't take too long though, I've been holding back for a while now." "Literally no one told you to," Peter says. His voice has lowered into a strained, breathy murmur. "I'm almost there so just– just wait, okay? You're distracting me." Tony rolls his eyes but ends up chuckling breathlessly. He stops stroking but starts massaging his balls. He lets out a moan as soon as he starts and that has Peter squeezing his eyes shut, his hips stuttering as he fucks his cock into his fist. His heart is going crazy and he stops fighting it. He spills right there, his load coming out hard and fast. It ends up getting over his stomach and he milks it out, squeezing the tip of the last few drops. When Peter finally finished, his nose wrinkles at the mess. "Should've taken your shirt off," Tony says, voice strained. Peter shoots him a friendly glare which softens when he finds that his friend is still holding back. Tony's face is flushed, his eyes bright with desperation. And yet, he hasn't come even when it's obvious he's ready to pop off. On the screen, the video is still playing but Tony grimaces. "Let's switch it up," he says while absentmindedly fondling his balls. "Sure." Tony leans forward a bit and uses the touchpad on his laptop to search around. Peter's trying his hardest not to stare at the other boy's erection. It doesn't soften in the least and Peter just wants to reach out and touch it. He wants to feel the warmth of Tony's skin, wants to hear what kind of noises Tony will make if he dares to do it. To touch Tony… "Okay, this'll be a little different," Tony says when he leans back into position. "But I don't think you'll mind. Tell me if you do and I'll find something else." A new video starts and Peter glances at it without much interest. Then he almost does a double take when he sees it's two men on the screen. Tony's never put in a gay porno before, he couldn't have chosen one now… Could he? "A threesome?" Peter says curiously. His heart is pounding and then it goes into overdrive when the two men start making out. "I can look for one next time if you want?" Tony offers. When Peter looks at him, the other boy has a lazy smirk. He's not bothered at all by the two men kissing on screen and Peter swallows down the spit in his mouth. "No, this is… this is good. It's fine," Peter says. He tears his eyes away and returns to the video. "You're hard again," Tony comments nonchalantly. Peter looks down and yeah…

Yeah, he's hard. He's watching a gay porno with his friend. Tony either picked up that this is more to Peter's preference or… Or this is Tony's preference, too. Either option makes Peter want to run away or hide under a blanket. He does neither because he's not going to make this weird. "You have good taste," Peter says, "They're both really hot." Tony chuckles beside him. "Damn right, I do." They both fall silent and they're both more engrossed in this film. Peter actually takes the time to invest in what's going on. Both men are attractive and hot as hell. They don't waste any time stripping each other off and the expanse of newly exposed skin has Peter squeezing his cock. Despite this, he can't help glancing at Tony. He can't help wondering. Their eyes keep meeting and this time, Peter doesn't look away. Neither does Tony. He greedily takes everything in, admiring the way Tony's hair, previously slicked back, is falling into his eyes. Tony's mouth is also slightly parted and a quick pink tongue flicks out to wet dry lips. Peter wants to bite at them. Something changes between them at this moment. They're watching both the film and each other. For Peter, his attention is clearly on Tony and it's Tony that's making his cock hard. But even if it feels like something's changed, Peter still toes the line of their friendship. "Are you getting close again?" Tony pants. He's struggling not to come. Peter can tell by how he's gently tugging on his balls in an attempt to hold off. Peter bites down on his lip cause he's not quite there yet but he wants to so badly. He wants to come with Tony watching him but he just can't seem to do it. "I don't think I can," Peter groans. "Ugh, Tony, I'm getting tired…" Something in his expression must give his frustration away because Tony shuffles closer which makes Peter's heart go berserk. Not only does Tony come closer but he moves behind Peter. His legs stretch out, bracketing Peter's body. Suddenly, Tony's so much closer. Too close for comfort because Peter had just said he couldn't come but like this, it'd be so easy. It fuels all sorts of dirty imaginations that he shouldn't be having about his friend but... "I got an idea," Tony says, pressed so close against Peter's back. Surely, he can feel Peter's heart thumping like crazy? "What do you– Oh…!" Peter's entire body would've basically jumped in the air if it isn't for Tony's arms around him. "It's not fun if I win all the time, so we should at least end this in a tie, right, Pete?" Tony says. "Lemme help, okay?" Peter's wide-eyed and his hips buck uncontrollably when Tony's hand settles over his own. There's no mistaking what Tony wants to do. He shudders when Tony grips his cock. Those sturdy fingers that Peter often admires press down on him causing him to tighten his grip on his cock. Tony's touching him… Tony's touching his cock. Tony wants to help jerk him off. Peter might just come right then and there. "Tony– You're… touching me…" The words come out as an embarrassing squeak but Peter can scarcely believe it. "Mhmm…" Tony murmurs, amusement in that one single hum. Peter had just started the obvious so of course, he'd be amused. In any other circumstances, maybe Peter would be too. Instead, he feels like he's dreaming. He's looking down at his body, specifically between his legs where Tony's tanned hand is curled around his. "C'mon, Pete, either move your hand or I'll move it for you," Tony says right into his ear. That gets Peter moving and he starts stroking again, clumsy with the added weight of another hand. It shouldn't feel good because their hands are bumping and Tony being pressed against him is making him so… so flustered. But it does feel good. it feels so good that Peter's fighting tooth and nail not to come right away. He doesn't want this to end yet. Eventually, Tony does take over. When he pulls Peter's hand off by the wrist, Peter just shudders and lets him. His hand falls to the side and he grabs the bed sheets just to have some sort of anchor. He squeaks when Tony adds more

lube. "Sorry. Here, I'll make you feel good…" Tony promises him and he keeps true to his word. He practices those smooth steady strokes on Peter's cock and Peter recognizes the motion. It turns him on so much, he's clenching his teeth to hold back all those embarrassing moans that want to escape. "Tony…" Peter gasps. "I-It feels..." "Too slow? Too soft?" Tony chuckles. "I got you, Pete. Relax and lemme take care of it." Peter squeezes his eyes shut as Tony increases his pace. His grip tightens a little but it's enough to have Peter gasping out his name again. It's exactly what Peter needs and he whimpers, hips twitching toward the delicious friction Tony's hand provides. His ears burn from the wet sounds Tony's hand makes while he's jerking him off, all those embarrassing squelches and not to mention the feeling… Tony's grilling him just right, giving him a warm, wet hole to thrust his cock into… How can something so simple as another person touching him feel so much better than his own hand? His hips continue to move, thrusting into his friend's tight grip. He's so aware of every point of contact between their bodies. "Isn't this weird?" Peter starts to babble, "The porn was one thing but Tony– You're touching my– Isn't this too much?" "Is it? I'm just trying to get you caught up," Tony says as though it's entirely reasonable. Then he chuckles and Peter shivers at the warmth of his breath fanning across his nape, "Are you even friends if you don't try to out-come each other?" It's so ridiculous that it makes Peter huff out a laugh even while his cock is now a leaking mess in Tony's fist. "You're ridiculous–" he gasps. "And you're about to cum," Tony says. Peter can hear the triumph in his voice. It's the last thought he has before Tony's hand squeezes him just right. He's coming before he even realizes it and the outpouring of pleasure has him arching his back, gasping and shuddering in ecstasy. Tony's arms keep him grounded, pressed as he is against the front of his friend's body. "Oh, fuck, yeah," Tony breathes. His head hangs between his shoulders and it's in the perfect position to see how his load comes spilling out of his cockhead, all messy and being milked out by his friend in gentle squeezes. He feels something hot and hard poke against his back. Oh, yeah… Tony still hasn't come. Despite having his orgasm milked out of him, Peter's body is still hot. Actually, it's even worse now because Tony's arms are still around him. Tony's face is still buried against his neck, his breath adding fuel to the heat inside him with every puff of warm air against his sensitive skin. The video has long since ended and Tony doesn't seem to care about putting another one on. It's just them now with no excuse for what they're doing. Peter leans back and he can feel Tony's cock rub against him, so hot and demanding. Tony grumbles when Peter pulls away but he doesn't get the chance to complain. Peter shoves him so he's lying flat on his back, those familiar brown eyes wide with surprise and arousal. "Since we're trying new things," Peter says, breathless and barely containing the urge to straddle Tony's hips. "Mind if I try something?" Tony's hands curl into loose fists before they relax and he gives Peter a look that he's never seen before. Bedroom eyes… Now Peter understands what those words mean. By the curve of his smart mouth and the dark, hungry look in his eyes, he's inviting Peter to do whatever he wants with him. "I'm always up for new things," he says then smirks, "Quite literally this time." The amused look on Tony's face quickly fades when Peter settles between his legs. He leans down, takes a hold of the other boy's cock by the base to steady it. It twitches in his hand and Tony's eyes are fixated on Peter's lips hovering over his tip. Peter loves the way Tony's watching him. "I don't mind if you win this time, Tones," he says, "so don't hold back, okay?" With that said, he closes the distance and takes Tony's cock into his mouth.

[imreallyloveleee]

promptathon week 1

“Red again?”

Betty startles at the sound of a low voice over her shoulder, reeling around from the roulette table to see an unfamiliar man standing just a few feet behind her. He’s pale with blue eyes and a long, straight nose, a few locks of wavy dark hair poking out from beneath what appears to be a woolen cap. Odd choice, given it’s so hot right now that if they stepped outside they’d see visible waves of heat shimmering up off of the pavement. She thinks he’s tall, but it’s kind of hard to tell with the way he’s slouching.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes widen in alarm, and he straightens up under her gaze. “Shit, I – did I say that out loud?”

Betty scoffs. “Uh, yeah.”

“Jesus. I need to get out of here. I don’t think I’ve seen the sun in three days.” He takes a few hesitant steps forward, joining her tableside. “Look – stop me if I’m mansplaining, it’s just – if you only make outside bets you’re never gonna get anywhere with this.”

Betty narrows her eyes, looking him up and down as she determines how annoyed she should be. Walking up to a strange woman in a casino and giving her unsolicited gambling advice? Obnoxious.

On the other hand, she barely knows what she’s doing, which is probably evident to anyone passing by who’s happened to notice that she’s placed the same exact bet on roulette five times in a row.

She decides on mild annoyance. Maybe the guy’s got something useful to say. If not, well – he’s cute, she’s single, and they’re in Las Vegas. Worse things have happened.

“I double my money whenever I’m right,” she points out as she places a few chips on the red box. “That’s not nothing.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s true. But you’re only gonna be right about half the time at best.”

They watch in silence as the dealer releases the ball. It rolls and rolls for what feels like an eternity, finally landing on 11.

“And that’s black,” the man says softly, raising an eyebrow as their gazes meet.

Betty crosses her arms over her chest, irritation climbing from mild to moderate. “Fifty-fifty is the best odds on the table. Anything else is even less likely.”

“You’re absolutely correct.” He shrugs. “But the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.”

“Okay, fine. Where do you think I should be placing my bets?”

Betty drops five of her chips into his open palm. They’re only worth a dollar each, and she’s got plenty more, anyway, thanks to the largesse of the brides-to-be. He taps his chin slowly as he studies the table, placing the chips one by one on various numbers.

“Gotta diversify.” He flashes her a quick grin, and Betty feels a little tug of something somewhere below her bellybutton.

Against all odds – or at least the table’s odds, she thinks – he’s right: his bet on the corner nets her $8 alone. He passes the winnings back to her with a smirk.

Betty rolls her eyes, but she has to fight to tamp down the smile that threatens to split across her face. “If you’re so smart why aren’t you betting yourself?”

“Oh, I don’t gamble. I just like to observe.”

“So that’s what you were doing back there.” She looks meaningfully over her shoulder, to where she’d first caught him lurking. “Observing me?”

“No, observing the game. Observing you would be creepy.”

She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the flush of color creeping up his neck.

“Why are you in a casino if you don’t like to gamble?”

“Bachelor party,” he says easily, seemingly grateful for the change of subject. He points to a small group of men clustered around a row of slot machines about 20 feet away. One of them – a redhead – is pumping his fist into the air as the symbols roll by. “My best friend Archie’s getting married.”

“Me too.” She feels oddly delighted to share this in common with him, even though there’s a solid chance at least half of the people in the room are here for the same exact reason. “My best friend is marrying my cousin, and they’re having a joint bachelorette weekend.”

“Sounds cozy.”

“It is.” Betty can feel his eyes on her as she places her chips on the table. “That’s why I’m only betting on red tonight. It’s my cousin Cheryl’s lucky color and she’s bankrolling the whole weekend, so I figured…may as well play in her honor.”

She’s hesitating with one last chip in hand, unsure where she wants to place it, when she feels his palm gently cup the back of her hand as he takes the chip in his other and places it on the 3. “Still red,” he tells her with another fleeting smile. “I just have a good feeling.”

It earns her a $35 payout.

Betty whoops as the dealer places the marker on the winner. Without even thinking about it, she throws her arms around her newfound gambling partner’s neck in a hug.

He squeezes her back briefly, and then they disentangle just as quickly, both of them blushing furiously.

“What’s your name?” he blurts out.

“Betty.”

“Betty,” he repeats. “Well, that’s fitting.”

It’s an absolutely terrible joke, one she’s already heard from two other guys in the casino tonight. But somehow, coming from him, it’s charming. “What’s yours?”

“Jughead.”

“Well, that’s…not.”

He laughs. “Betty, can I buy you a drink? A real one, and not one of these sad excuses for a complimentary cocktail?”

“Of course, Jughead.” Betty slips her hand into the crook of his elbow. “But let’s hit up the blackjack tables first. I think you might be my lucky charm.”

[decoolz]

A Piece of my WIP

This is part of my Work in Progress The John Laurens Alexander Hamilton Kissing book--working title (TJLAHKB) I am extremely nervous about sharing this, but I would like to see what people think about it. This is just under 3000 works so most of it will be under the cut. A new beginning. The mistakes of London and teenage fantasy were gone now, he was sure of it. All he had to do was take this meeting and the next few years of his life would be set. John stepped out of the coach and smoothed out his waistcoat. If he did this right, he’d be able to recover his reputation. No one would be talking about the rumors if he achieved glory on the battlefield. All he had to do was find General Washington’s command tent.

The camp smelled like twelve thousand people had been camping here for weeks. The sweet stench of rotting food nearly overpowered the unwashed smell of thousands of people gathered in quarters much too small. John searched the faces of passersby for someone to help, but not a single soul gave him a glance. No wonder the British had the upper hand. This was the encampment housing the head of the whole continental army and not a single person gave John a once over. He could be a spy wandering about. All this was going in his first letter to his father when he got situated.

“Excuse me!” John shouted at a boy who couldn’t possibly be old enough to enlist yet was running around the place as if he knew every inch of it. “I’m looking for General Washington’s tent. I have an appointment.”

“Good luck with that,” the boy chuckled. He turned and pointed toward the middle of camp. “See the big round one. That’s where you’ll wanna go. Hope you really got that appointment.”

“I’m Henry Laurens son. I don’t need an appointment,” John clarified rolling his eyes. “My father arranged for introductions.”

“Good on you,” the boy nodded, then ran off the way he was heading.

John continued to drag his footlocker across the dirt and dying grass up the path to the “big round tent,” silently judging every single one of the people who walked by him without offering to help or ask what he was doing wandering around this camp. From the looks of everyone’s dirty and mismatched attire, this wasn’t the kind of place where people took much care to observe anything.

He entered Washington’s tent without once being stopped. Setting his footlocker out of the way, he straightened his waistcoat again before approaching the desk in the middle of the space. The man bent over the desk didn’t bother to acknowledge him when he entered. John cleared his throat thrice before the young redheaded man looked up for his work.

“How may I be of assistance?” he asked with an unrecognizable accent. “I’m assuming you’re not the Frenchman. Are you one of his staff?”

“I am French but I’m from South Carolina,” John replied. He pulled his letter of introduction from his inside pocket as he stepped closer to the desk. The man behind it appeared altogether uninterested. “I’m Henry Laurens’s son, I’m here to have a meeting with General Washington to join this regiment.”

“He’s not taking meetings today,” the clerk replied. “I can schedule you for later this week if you’d like. What is your business with the General?” He licked the end of his quill and met John’s eyes.

“No, you misunderstand me,” John said, shaking his head. “Henry Laurens is my father. He wrote to General Washington and told him to expect me this week. I don’t need an appointment, he’s expecting me.”

The clerk clicked his tongue. “Right. You still need an appointment. The General is a busy man. He isn’t going to stop running the army because some self-important rich man’s son is going to show up at some point this week. I can write you in for an appointment tomorrow if you like. Should I write in Henry’s son or do you have a name of your own I can use?”

“No,” John shook his head. “I should be able to see him today. He’s expecting me. He told my father he’s looking for a French translator to help with correspondence and the like. He made it pretty clear the post had to be filled post haste.”

“Right … but you see, that’s not how it works,” the clerk explained, speaking slowly as if John was a simpleton. “In order to get into see General Washington, you need an appointment. I make the appointments. I would highly recommend you stop being a jackass and give me your Christian name so I can put it in the ledger for tomorrow.”

John took a deep breath. Clearly, this man didn’t understand who he was speaking to or he wouldn’t continue to be so obstructive. He’d be sure to put this in his letter to his father as well, he’ll have this scrawny boy’s job by the end of the week.

“Listen, Mister…”

“Lieutenant Colonel,” the redhead gentleman corrected.

“Fine then,” John scoffed. “Lieutenant Colonel, I don’t think you understand what’s happening here. I have a letter of introduction from my father with the understanding that I am to meet with his excellency when I arrive at camp. I am here. So, if you please, announce my arrival.”

“You seem to have poor comprehension skills, which honestly looks bad if you’re trying to get a job as a translator. There must be a meeting set up and penciled into this ledger before you can see him.” He held up the ledger for John to look at. “As you see here, today he is booked solid since he’s in the city meeting with a Frenchman who will be joining the ranks. So even if I wanted to let you in to see him—which don’t misunderstand I do not—I can’t because he’s not even in there. But if you give me your name, and not refer to yourself as your father’s son, I can write you in for tomorrow.”

“But I have a letter of introduction,” John extended his hand with the papers toward the boy.

“Go for you,” the Lieutenant Colonel nodded. “What is your name? I can set up an appointment for tomorrow at one in the afternoon right after luncheon.”

“My father said--”

“Listen,” the other man pulled a hand down his face and sighed loudly. “We seem to be at an impasse here. You need an appointment. I honestly don’t give a shit what your father said, because he’s not here. I am. I control the ledger book with the appointments. I already informed you against my better judgment that General Washington isn’t even in camp at present. I’m not sure what it is you think you’re going to accomplish by arguing with me about it. Give me your name I’ll write you in for tomorrow right after luncheon and you can go relax at the inn up the road for the rest of the day and stop bothering me.”

“This won’t do,” John shook his head. “I was promised a meeting when I arrived.”

The other man blinked slowly, shook his head, picked up his quill, and continued whatever it was he was working in when John walked in. After several tense moments of silence, John cleared his throat again for attention.

“Oh, you’re still here. Again, your meeting is tomorrow at one. I wrote down ‘Henry’s son’ so they’ll be no confusion as to how important you are. If you insist on staying in my office to wait for your scheduled time, you are more than welcome to sit in one of the terribly uncomfortable wooden chairs on the side there. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

John sunk his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from yelling and let several short quick breaths out through his nose.

“What is your name?” John demanded. “I would like to make sure Congress knows exactly the kind of riff-raff General Washington has in his employment.”

“And yet here you are trying to join our ranks,” the redheaded man met John’s gaze with a sickeningly sweet fake smile.

“Hamilton!” A head poked around the entrance of the tent. An older man with the same green pin on his hat as the clerk. “Are you set to take a break for luncheon or is Lucy bringing you a tray?”

“No, I’ll come with you,” the redheaded man, Hamilton evidently, said. He straightened his desk and stood. “It’s Wednesday.”

As he came around the desk, John got his first good look at this Hamilton. He couldn’t be taller than five and a half feet. John could probably put his hands around the man’s waist and his fingers would touch. He looked far more like a boy than someone in charge of something as important as General Washington’s ledger.

“Are you going to invite your friend?” the other man asked, gesturing to John.

“Not my friend,” Hamilton grumbled. “You can join us for a meal if you want. Or wait until we leave and look to see that no one is in Washington’s office and pout about it. Just don’t touch my desk.” He didn’t bother turning toward John as he said it.

“Will my footlocker be safe here?” John asked, stepping toward the other men.

“Sure,” Hamilton shrugged. He pushed passed the other man out into the sweltering camp.

“Is he always so delightful?” John asked.

“You must have got him on a good day,” the other man joked. “He’s usually much worse. Richard Meade, Virginia.” He extended his hand to John.

This was more of the kind of welcome he was expecting. “John Laurens, South Carolina.”

“Son of the senator,” Meade smiled. “Rumor has it he’s a lock for the presidency when Hancock retires.”

“That’s what he tells me,” John nodded.

Hamilton waited; arms crossed over his chest for the others then led the way to the mess tent walking a quick clip about twenty paces ahead of them.

“Personally, I think it’ll be great for the union to finally have some southern influence at the helm of Congress. I think we’ve heard enough from Boston and New York for a bit.”

“Those men are the catalyst for the revolution,” John countered. “However, I do agree, if we are to be our own country it makes sense to listen to men from all parts of it.”

John let Meade lead him through the buffet line and tried not to gawk as Hamilton shamelessly flirted with a young brunette woman serving the warm rolls until she slipped an extra one to him.

“Is that the reason he was so eager to come to luncheon on Wednesday?”

“No,” Meade replied as they walked toward their table. “That would be Lucy. She’s around here somewhere. On Wednesdays, she helps with the dishes.”

“Hamilton is that man then?” John sighed, taking a seat across the table from Meade. Hamilton sat a little way down the table, toward the end on Meade’s side. John knew plenty of men just like that back in London. Men who shamelessly debased themselves in front of women for tiniest scrap of attention. Hamilton didn’t quite fit the usual formula for such a man, but John had to admit there was something about him that made it hard to pull his eyes away from the scrawny redhead.

Across the table, Meade rested his hat on the bench beside him. He was slightly older than John, maybe about thirty. This was the type of man John expected to find working for General Washington, a learned Southern Gentleman from a prominent family who knew the order of things. If Meade had been behind the desk when John walked in, everything would be taken care of by now.

“Forgive me for prying,” John said between bites of a watery but rather flavorful stew. “But since I will be joining this merry group of soldiers, may I ask about the dynamic of the inner circle?”

Meade laughed, his green eyes brightening as a crooked smile crossed his face. “I take it your father arranged for you to be the French interpreter we’re looking for. If that’s the case you’ll be working closely with your new best friend, Mister Hamilton. He handles most of the correspondence and does quite a bit of the planning and strategy for small missions. He’s the brains of it.”

“French interpreter was the plan, yeah, apparently a letter of introduction and a promise from my father isn’t enough to have an audience with His Excellency. I also need an arbitrary appointment and to dance for a five-foot-tall boy who thinks too much of himself.”

“Hamilton will be the first to tell you, he’s five foot seven,” Meade smiled. “General Washington is in Philadelphia today meeting with a French General who’s come to help us. He’ll be back tomorrow.”

This was supposed to be the easy part. The last couple of years had been an awful pile of hardship and stupid mistakes. Joining the army was supposed to be the first step in the right direction. All he had to do was show up and the rest would take care of itself. He wouldn’t have to deal with people looking at him sideways or whispers behind hands at society events. As he learned more about camp John did his best to remember that he wasn’t another setback, but a pause. Tomorrow would be different.

He turned toward the end of the table where Hamilton was batting his eyes at an enraptured blonde woman in a light blue gown. Something familiar started to bubble inside John, somewhere between jealousy and contempt. When the woman was called away, Hamilton slid over to join John and Meade for the rest of the meal.

“What do you think, Ricky? Will this son of Henry will fit in our merry band of aides-de-camp?”

Meade nodded as he wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “It’ll be fine Hamilton. The two of you should figure out how to get along. If Mister Laurens will be working French translations, you’ll most likely be sharing a desk.”

Hamilton groaned, and let his head fall back, just as enthused about the prospect as John was.

“You’re at least learned in French though?” Hamilton asked. “Fluent? We have a remarkable number of Frenchmen coming to take up this cause”

John nodded. He’d been taught by his mother as a boy and then in some of the finest schools he could be sent to in Europe. Hamilton continued to eye him suspiciously.

“I gotta head back,” Hamilton wiped his mouth his sleeve and stood quickly walking off with his dishes, handing them to the servant whose job it was to clear plates from the tables when they were finished eating. John’s eyes never left him as he smiled and laughed his way into taking an extra pear from the young woman who gave him the extra bread.

 “An acquired taste, but I assure you he’d a good egg,” Meade said, pulling John’s attention back to the last of his meal. “He’s probably the smartest person in the army, including General Washington.”

 John caught Hamilton walking backward out of the mess tent with a wink to the women at the serving stations and doubted very much that a man like that could surprise him.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out to the inn, make sure you’re settled.” Meade stood and placed his hat atop his head. “It’s decent accommodation over there. Savor it, my friend, you’ll be living on a straw mattress on the bottom bunk until we move for winter camp.”

Once settled in the single room of the inn, John dug through his belongings for his stationary to write the promised letter to his father. So far, this journey wasn’t what he was hoping for, but tomorrow looked promising with the appointment scheduled to accept him into service. He was sure his education and experience would be just what General Washington needed. If he did end up working alongside that Hamilton fellow as Meade said, he’d be able to teach that man a little bit of tack. Show him how a man from Southern Society—like General Washington himself—should act.