#this is a joke she does in fact throw money at her & lets her stay at camp but why is THAT HER FACE

[florbelles]

HEARTWARMING: local orphan encounters altruists

[stayteezdreams]

Masquerade

Plot: While attending a Christmas masquerade, Changkyun meets someone who steals his heart. But what does he do when they disappear at the end of the night? (Cinderella-esque au but not really)

Pairing: Im Changkyun | I.M x Gn!Reader

A/n's: I avoided using any descriptors for the Readers outfit (not a dress or suit specifically), but I did describe the color and "pattern", sorry if its not your vibe. Cinderella-esque vibe, but the reader is more like the step-sister being forced to the ball to meet a prince rather than sneaking in to enjoy the ball.

Warnings: Defenestration mentions (as a joke) . Reader has kind of shitty parents. This is written in a style sort of like older stories where the parents basically marry off their children to wealthy people no matter who they are.

Words: 4.8k

As Changkyun looked himself over in the mirror he let out a sigh. Every year, his parents threw a massive party for Christmas. This year the theme was masquerade.

He didn't often attend the parties or would at least pop in and say hello to some people. But this year, he was demanded to stay by his parents. And he knew it was because they wanted to find him a "match."

He was lucky that they didn't care much about the status of whoever he would end up with. But they were pushy about when he ended up with someone.

And because he had not met anyone that he felt anything strong for, they were starting to throw people his way in hopes some feelings surfaced. He knew tonight would be no different, if not worse.

Reluctantly leaving his room, he made his way down into the party, many eyes on him as soon as he entered. Even though he had a mask on, most knew who he was already.

He barely made it ten steps into the room before his mother saw him and began leading over a woman, and who he assumed was her daughter.

'Oh God, here we go.'

He put on a charming smile as they approached, greeted and chatted with them. And of course, after a stern look from his mother, asked her to dance.

She was nice, but a bit dense, and clearly only interested in money and status. Definitely not his type.

One after another, he was introduced, one after another he danced, and by the time nine o'clock came, he was ready to throw himself out of the nearest window.

Managing to escape to a corner, pretending to get a drink, his eyes raked over the room. He wondered if he could make it out of the door without anyone stopping him. Most everyone seemed to be growing tipsier as the night went on.

As he eyed the back of the room, his eyes locked onto a figure moving at the back, behind everyone else.

You were clearly trying to sneak away from something or someone as you continuously looked over your shoulder. It was working, as no one seemed to notice you except him. Though he wasn't sure how.

You were immediately alluring, and your outfit eye-catching, the color was black- no, a deep blue in the light, and it was covered in thousands of tiny sparkles that made it seem like you were covered in stars.

Changkyun didn't realize he was holding his breath as he watched you successfully reach the balcony door unseen and sneak out into the night. He let out a soft scoff as he felt more intrigued by the fact there was someone else here who was as desperate to escape as he was, if not more so.

Setting his glass down, he tried to make his way swiftly to the balcony to follow you. Narrowly escaping a few people attempting to stop him, he finally slipped out the door and looked around for you.

He felt a disappointed pang in his chest as he couldn't spot you, until his eyes spotted a shimmering figure heading into the covered garden. Following you, he wondered why he was so compelled by you.

The weight in your chest already seemed to lift as you escaped into the garden. No one was around, and the night air was calming, though cold.

All night you had entertained your parents demands for you to find a spouse. Met and talked with various people, all with the same bland personality and conversation starters. You never hated small talk as much as you did with a man who had a personality centered around wealth and status.

It was just like your parents to bring you to a wealthy family’s party just to garner the attention of elites who wanted easy to gain spouses. Your parents often mentioned they wanted you to marry for love, yet they threw you at any one they could whenever they got the chance and insisted you force the love to follow.

Finding your way into a small clearing, your eyes gazed around at the trees, all decorated in lights and Christmas ornaments. You smiled as you wondered why they went to so much effort to decorate areas no one went too.

Then your eyes landed on a swing hanging from a large tree. You smiled at the site as you sat down, swaying back and forth and allowing yourself to breathe for the first time tonight. You wondered how much time you could get yourself before your parents found you.

Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back, you took in some cold brisk breaths as you tried to calm your anchored anxiety.

Hearing a crunch in the gravel nearby, your eyes shot open as you spotted a man standing not too far away. He was tall, slim, but fit, black hair just past his ears. He was wearing a slick silk black suit and a mask to match. Even at a distance you could see he was attractive.

He raised his hand at your reaction and let out a soft breathy laugh. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he wasn't someone sent after you by your parents.

You bowed your head softly and smiled, "That's alright."

He took a tentative step forward as he spoke, "I noticed you flee the house and grew curious."

You frowned softly, "Why?"

He smiled and your heart fluttered unexpectedly. "I thought I was the only one who wanted to run away."

You remained silent for a second before you let out a soft breathy laugh. "Forced by your parents?"

He grinned at this, you just told him, without really telling him, why you were so fed up with being here.

"Forced by the parents."

You tilted your head in confusion for a moment before it donned on you what he might mean. "I suppose this is your home then?"

He nodded almost sheepishly at the identification. He began to wonder slowly towards you, walking behind the swing as he spoke, his eyes remaining on you the whole time.

"My parents host this party every year. But this year they are quite determined to find me a match. Since I am taking too long in finding my own-"

"They will find one for you."

He chuckled as he nodded, though you couldn't see him. "I assume it’s the same for you then?"

You nodded as you swung once in the swing again. "Unfortunately. Though, I was never really given the opportunity to find my own spouse. I will only marry someone they approve of, and that in itself is already an absurd standard."

"So, no matches tonight then?"

You shrugged. "Apparently they are fond of this particularly well-known man names James."

Changkyun felt his heart drop at this. He looked at you, your soft profile in the moonlight as you gazed outwards, no idea what your fate would become if your parents chose him. Anyone in his family’s close circle knew exactly who he was, but someone outside of it might not.

"Not him."

Something in his tone sent a chill down your spine. You stopped your movement on the swing as you turned to look at him, he was behind you, a few steps away, his eyes on you and his gaze tense.

"He's not a good man."

The tone of his voice held contempt and fear, making your chest tighten. He was being truthful.

You nodded softly in understanding, "Not him."

He nodded once, letting out a soft breath. Even though he didn't really know you, he knew you were far too good to be paired with someone like him.

Your heart jolted at the sound of distant voices, listening for a moment, you recognized then, your parents. They were clearly upset and looking for you.

"Shit." You cursed under your breath, but Changkyun was quick to catch on.

"Your parents?"

You nodded as you rose from the swing, looking around for another path. Before you could choose where to go, you suddenly felt the stranger grab your wrist lightly.

As you looked at him in alarm, he gently pulled you along. "Come on."

Between following a stranger you knew nothing about, and being caught by your parents, you knew the clear answer was to follow the stranger into the darkness of the garden.

Letting him lead you down a stony path, you watched as the path slowly became more overgrown, clearly having been forgotten about. Ducking underneath an old overgrown willow tree, you stared in awe as you came through the other side to see a large gazebo covered in vines.

The moon above you lit up the area well enough to see, as the two of you stepped up into the gazebo. You looked around at the old structure, clearly forgotten about by everyone but him.

Changkyun looked back at you and smiled at your awestruck gaze. Your clothes were twinkling in the moonlight, and he could feel the way his stomach fluttered as he watched you. Had he a mirror, he would see the same gaze on your face plastered on his as he looked at you.

He finally spoke with a soft voice, "I often come here to escape. Tonight, I will lend it to you."

You smiled at him and his heart stuttered. "Thank you."

He smiled at you and bowed his head slightly in response.

As he began turning away, you hesitated "Wait-" he looked back at you and you suddenly felt shy, "Are you leaving?"

He hadn't intended on it, but your reaction when you thought he was made him near giddy. "Do you want me to stay?"

You shrugged lightly, not sure what to do now. "I thought we could talk more is all."

Changkyun grinned and you felt your heart skip a beat. He stepped closer to you, "We could."

As he stared at you with a smile, you couldn't help but smile brightly in return. Something about this stranger had your heart fluttering in ways you had never experienced.

While the party inside continued, and your parents wandered near every inch of it to find you, you and Changkyun talked nonstop. You learned that you had much more than your pushy parents in common.

As silence settled between you after you had laughed at one of his stories, the sound of music became louder.

You looked towards the house, as the sound traveled along the soft breeze. And suddenly you remembered where you were, having been so lost in your conversations with your new friend, you had nearly forgotten.

Changkyun stood up, catching your attention as he placed out his hand for you to take. "Do you want to dance with me?"

You looked at this hand before you smiled, "I thought you had grown tired of dancing tonight?"

He smiled and he shrugged his head, "I grew tired of dancing with the people my parents forced on me. I'd very much like to dance with someone I choose."

Heart fluttering again, you gently took his hand as you rose, "Good answer."

He chuckled softly as the two of you began dancing, your motions flowing together smoothly as you seemed to have a good rhythm together.

As you danced around the gazebo, moonlight peeking through, Changkyun was in awe of your presence. He had never felt this towards anyone, let alone someone whose name he didn't even know.

This thought suddenly struck him, why hadn't he asked your name? Let alone tell you his own.

Spinning you once more, he pulled you close to his chest as the song died out, the sound of distant clapping heard. Your eyes were locked as your hands remained clasped. Slowly, you parted with a single step back.

You held your breath as he slowly raised his hands towards your mask, to remove it. You had nearly forgotten you had still been wearing it all along. Your face barely looked any different with or without it, but his actions still made your heart race.

Before he could remove it, however, you heard the sudden loud chiming of a clock.

Your head snapped in the direction of the house, catching Changkyun off guard.

"It’s midnight?"

Changkyun almost laughed, he hadn't realized the two of you had spent so long out here together. It felt like no time had passed at all, he would be glad to have more.

Unfortunately for him, your thoughts were the opposite as you looked back at him with panic.

"My parents are going to kill me. We were supposed to have left by now. They must be going crazy!"

Changkyun watched as you darted away from him and out of the gazebo.

"Wait!" He called after you as he ran to follow.

You were cursing to yourself the whole way back to the house. Worried your parents would punish you, fearful they may have left you here, and disappointed you had to leave.

Climbing up the steps back to the house, as you were about to grab the door handles to go back inside, you stopped as you were grabbed by your elbow.

As you looked back, Changkyun was hurrying to catch his breath. "But I never got your name."

Your eyes widened in realization. How had you spent that much time with him, talking, laughing, gazing, dancing, and yet you never actually introduced yourselves?

"Oh it's-"

Before you could tell him your name, the doors burst open, revealing your clearly disheveled if not somewhat buzzed parents.

You opened your mouth, ready to give excuse after excuse, but they grabbed your arms and wrists as they began pulling you inside.

"Do you realize how long we had been looking for you?!"

"Where did you go?! Were you with someone? Who?"

As they dragged you through the house and towards the front door, you looked back to see Changkyun trying to follow you. He wanted to know your name, to tell you his, he wanted to introduce himself to your parents, to tell them not to let James anywhere near you.

Suddenly stopped by his own parents, he tried to push past them but failed, his heart dropping as he saw you dragged out the front doors and away from him.

His parents bombarded him with similar questions your own parents whispered into your ears.

"Just one moment, okay? I'll explain later!"

Managing to push past them, he made his way through the remnant crowd, and out the front door. His eyes darted from person to person, group to group, as many people were leaving and lingering in the front of the house.

He let out a disdained sigh as he saw you nowhere in sight. He had been too late to catch up to you, you were gone.

He stared out at the crowd of people, ignoring people as they greeted him, his mind only on you. He felt as though something wonderful had been ripped away from him. How was he going to get it back? He had to find you. He needed to. He would.

Swinging gently on the swing he first met you at, Changkyun stared ahead, lost in thought. It had been nearly a week since the masquerade, and he had yet to find out who you were.

After telling his parents about you, they were intrigued as well, wanting to know who gained their son’s attention so undividedly. So, even they tried to help find you, but came up with nothing. You remained a mystery, as though you had never been there at all.

He even considered reaching out to James, but with their relationship and how vindictive he was, he might seek you out to hurt you because of him.

He began to wonder if maybe your parents had pulled some strings and got an invite from someone else, or maybe snuck you in all together. Perhaps that was why they dragged you out of the party so quickly. You had overstayed your welcome and as the crowds were dying down, your presence might become more noticeable.

Letting out a soft laugh at the thought, he shook his head as he leaned back and looked up at the cloudy sky. "Why didn't I ask your name sooner?" He spoke allowed, to the sky, remembering how he felt as the two of you danced and smiled together.

His chest tightened as he grew more frustrated. There had to be a way to find you again. If you were so prevalently on his mind a week later, surely, he truly felt something for you.

Feeling a chill shudder over him from the winter breeze, he returned into his home. As he entered the dining room, he overheard the end of a conversation from his parents.

"Of course it would be a contract marriage, no one would marry James if they really knew him."

Changkyun stopped dead in his tracks, a chill running over him as a bad feeling filled his gut. Marching into the room up to the table, he looked at his mother with alarmed eyes, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, well, James is engaged apparently, a contract marriage."

He placed his hands on the table harshly as he leaned in, "To who?!"

"Why are you so upset?"

"Because-" He recalled that night, your parents had an interest in James being with you, but did they really sell you off to him? "Find out who it is mother, please, I think it might be the one I met that night."

Seeing and hearing the urgent desperation in her sons’ voice, she nodded, quickly rising to find out more information. Changkyun's father ushered him to sit, to question him further. Changkyun only hoped if it was you, that he could stop it before you were married off to a monster.

The second his mother came back with a name and address, Changkyun was out the doors and on his way to you. He needed to make sure you would be free of this engagement, no matter what.

"Y/n" He muttered the name to himself breathlessly as he pictured your face, a soft smile forming on his own. "It suits you."

Your chest was heavy with anxiety as you sat in the corner of the room looking at anything but your parents and James.

You had tried to convince them not to pair you with him, but since you learned no real details about why your mystery friend warned you about him, they didn't listen. And nothing other than he is a horrible dangerous person would deter them.

It didn't matter if the way he looked at you made you uncomfortable, it didn't matter if he was ten years older, it didn't matter if he made weird comments openly about the maids.

Unless you could find another suitor, a better suitor, it was only "You'll get used to it", "Feelings will come with time", "He probably isn't as bad as you think."

Part of you wanted to go back to the home where you had attended the masquerade. To be with, well, whoever he was, and get him to help you. And maybe, just maybe, the two of you could grow closer.  

But after you learned that you and your parents were never supposed to be at that party, you felt mortified to ever return. You were party crashers, and you hadn't even known it.

"I was thinking we could have the wedding next week."

Your heart clenched at James's suggestion. Daring a look at him he caught your eye and smiled, an eerie smile. He knew of your reservations against him, he knew you wanted nothing to do with him. What would he be like when you no longer had your parents around?

The anxiety nearly made you dizzy. What was your future holding for you. Torture? Sadness? Loneliness?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted at the sound of loud pounding at the door. It was loud and sudden enough to make you jump. Waiting and watching as you heard muffled voices before hurried footsteps came closer to the study, your hand clenched the arm of your chair nervously.

Your fear was replaced by surprise and relief as the man you met at the masquerade barged into the room. He looked disheveled and breathless, as he looked around the room hurriedly.

As his eyes met yours, you rose from your seat.

You knew well enough what he looked like, but without the mask, seeing him for everything he was, made your heart flutter heavier than it ever had before.

He let out a sigh of relief, his heart swelling as he saw you. "Y/n"

As your name left his lips, you moved to take a step towards him but stopped as your father stepped forward with a demanding voice.

"Who are you?!"

Quickly bowing in respect, he apologized for his sudden entry. "I must insist I speak with you regarding your betrothal of Y/n to James."

"Changkyun." The voice that left James was full of venom as he stared daggers into him.

'Changkyun' that was his name?

"I must insist you know exactly who it is you are trying to marry your child off too." Changkyun was speaking to your parents, but his eyes never left James.

"You will leave this house!" James countered, but you stepped forward suddenly.

"No! He will not."

Changkyun's eyes finally left James and landed on you. Your stance was defiant as you looked from James to Changkyun. "I want to know too."

Your father let out an annoyed grunt before he waved his hand at Changkyun. "Fine, but you will tell me who you are first! I want to know if you have the authority to tell me anything!"

"I am Im Changkyun Sir."

Your parents suddenly straightened up at the sound of his name, one they clearly recognized.

"And I am Y/n's friend."

His eyes fell to you as he spoke, his voice somewhat hesitant on the word 'friend', as he knew he felt more for you than mere friendship.

You smiled at him, and something in your face told him you felt the same.

Looking back at your parents he spared James one more look. "James is a violent drunk who had made many an innocent person disappear for the mere instance of looking at him for too long. He is cruel, disrespectful, and a bastard overall. If you marry Y/n off to him, you will never see them smile, laugh or be healthy again."

"You bastard, how dare you!" James rushed at Changkyun, but he easily dodged him and knocked him off his balance with a swift movement of his leg.

As he tried to attack Changkyun again, you wanted to rush forward, but Changkyun, seeing this, moved to block you instead, so that you would not get hurt.

Your father yelled at James to stand down, gaining his attention well enough that he regained most of his composure.

Your father was clearly disgruntled and upset over everything that was happening. Your mother, grabbing his arm to steady not only herself, but him.

"I can see from that outrageous outburst, that what Mr Im said must hold some truth to it. And I know of the Im family well enough to know they are far more respected than you." As your father looked over at you, recalling the numerous times you begged him to break the engagement he let out a sigh, "I will break the engagement at once."

You let out a soft sigh as you gently rested your head against Changkyun's back out of relief without thinking much of the action.

Changkyun, feeling this, smiled softly, the own heavy weight on his shoulders lifting as he realized he managed to save you from an unbearable fate.

James, unable to bear the offense, only grew angrier, "We are already engaged, you cannot break it now!"

"This is not the 1800's, your engagement can be ended as easily as it was formed." Changkyun countered.

After more petty remarks and arguing, James finally turned his attention to you. "I suppose you're happy now" He scoffed, as if spitting at you. "Who would want to marry you if not me? Huh!?"

You had no time to be offended by his comment before Changkyun responded, his voice laced with a dangerous tone, telling James not to overstep.

"I will."

You looked at him with shock, your heart practically leaping from your chest. Your mother grabbed at your father's arm, secretly relishing in the fact you had men fighting over your hand.

"And I would do far better in marriage than you could ever wish or imagine. It is not Y/n that no one wishes to marry, it is you. Haven't you ever wondered why so many disregard and avoid you? You are the one no one wants."

Stunned out of anger, James could make no retort before your father had him removed from the home. You could hear him cursing your family as he left, but you feared no real retaliation or effect on you or your family. He may be wealthy but held no influence.

As a tense silence filled the room, you saw your mother reader to charge at Changkyun with questions and excitement, but you stepped forward.

"Mother, father, please let me speak to Changkyun alone for a bit, okay?"

Your mother wanted to protest but gave in to your stern look. After they left you alone, you turned to face Changkyun, who swallowed nervously.

"Are you insane?"

He blinked a few times, "For what? Saving you from a marriage with James?"

You let out a soft laugh, "No. Not that, we'll get to that later. I'm talking about the fact that you just told my parents you would marry me!"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that!"

Letting out an awkward, almost shy laugh as he scratched the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. "I mean, it wasn't a lie."

You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment and he let out another sot laugh. "You can't say you didn't feel anything that night. Between us."

Butterflies rampaged through you as you repressed a smile, that did not go unnoticed by him. "Yes, I did. But marriage?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Well. We could just have a very, very long engagement. Until we got to know each other a bit more. Or maybe your father will let us put it off, for now."

"For now?" You repeated softly, your ears and neck heating up.

He nodded as he stepped towards you. "I have already told my parents all about you. And I wouldn't be surprised if my mother has already planned a wedding out in her mind already."

You laughed, "Honestly my mother is probably doing the same right about now." You ended this with a soft glare at him making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry, it was very sudden. But I couldn't let James get away with saying something like that to you."

You gently chewed the inside of your cheek as you looked down bashfully, recalling again how he defended you. "Thank you, for coming to save me."

He grinned at this, stepping toward you again, now right in front of you. His gaze met yours with a gentle fondness that took your breath away.

"I've been looking for you, ever since that night. I only knew where to find you after hearing about James's engagement. I'm glad I got here in time. I was afraid I would have been too late."

"And if you had been?"

He hummed softly before answering, "I would have crashed your wedding and stolen you away."

You let out a startled laugh, making him chuckle as well. You nodded, "Somehow, I can imagine that."

You felt a shiver rise up your body as he suddenly set his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him.

"So, given two options. Stay engaged to me, and let me court you, or announce that you have now had two engagements broken, what would you choose?"

"Starting off a relationship with an engagement? I thought you said this wasn't the 1800's anymore?"

He chuckled, "It isn't, but like I said, we can have a very long engagement. Besides, if you were engaged to me, neither of our parents would continue and introduce us to everyone they could.”

You repressed another laugh as he grinned at you, making your cheeks burn with bashful embarrassment. “A win, win situation then?”

He nodded with a grin, and you chuckled softly. "I suppose if I had to choose, one of those choices is much more appealing."

Taking a small step closer, so the two of you were only a few inches apart, he nodded before speaking softly. "I promise I will prove myself to you."

"More than you already have?"

He nodded confidently, "Yes. Much more."

You stared at each other with fondness, and growing affection. You smiled softly, daring him with your eyes, and somehow knowing he would do exactly as you said.

"Alright. Prove it then."

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending but its late at night and I was trying very hard to finish this before I fall asleep in my chair lol

Overall, I like how this one came out. its my first time writing for I.M, so I hope you liked it!

((Taglist Form))

12 Days of Christmas Tag: @multi-fandommaniac, @mbruben-stein

General Taglist: @charmsprout, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669,

@tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop,

@shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie, @alexxavicry

[lemonssavelives]

Zohakuten Headcanons (Modern)

Zohakuten is 17-18 (Originally) Depending on the story he'll be different ages like (10,12,15)

Zohakuten is the most spoiled in his family since he is the youngest (He'll get so many gifts for Christmas and his birthday)

During middle school Zoha found it very easy to make friends with the girls instead (He had little to no guy friends)

When he got into High School, he met his current group of friends.

During middle school so many girls liked him to the point on Valentines Day his desk would be covered with cards, sweets, and baskets which did make the other guys jealous (He has rizz but doesn't know how to handle it)

He's one of the popular boys because he's handsome and that a lot of the girls know he is the little brother of the handsome Hantengu Quadruplets (He doesn't even know he's popular or the reason why)

He's a total mama's boy

Loves Mario.

He was so excited when the Mario Movie came out that he forced all his brothers into one of his cars and paid for everything with Karaku's credit card

He isn't allowed to use his own money so he usually has one of his brothers or all of their credit cards

Has too many Mario video games

Zoha likes to put stickers on everything including his brothers. (Karaku wasn't so happy to be covered in stickers)

Has some allergies (crab, Crab Rangoon, some seafoods, daisy's, and pollen)

When he was little he was in the hospital a lot either because he had a really bad allergic reaction or he got beaten up. Luckily his mom was there (Their mother happens to be a nurse so she always kept him company along with his brothers and father)

Zoha first fight was in Elementary school at recess because two older boys had the great idea to bully him because he was small.

Zoha did in fact win but he was beaten up pretty badly and his brother made sure those really learnt a lesson the next time they saw him

Zoha ended up in the hospital because he had a broken arm and a bruised face

Mama wasn’t so happy about it and sued the parents and had the two boys in juvie

He is 5 years younger than the quads/clones and 7 years younger than Hantengu and Urami

Grew up with his cousins 24/7

At the age 15 he got his first girlfriend (who is now his current girlfriend)

Still cool with the ladies to the point it brings Karaku to tears that his lil bro has so many girl contacts in his phone

He stays out really late and only comes home to let his brothers know that he is alive before leaving again (Only one the weekends and summer break)

Rest of the time he is home since he doesn't really go out unless it's for food or friends

His group of friends consist of too many girls, Daki, Nakime, Akaza, Kokushibo (Zoha's "sugar daddy". He just gives money to Zoha and he jokes about him being a Sugar Daddy to him), Douma, Kaigaku, Gyutaro (Zoha is like an older brother to him), Rui (Zoha is that one senior/Junior that adopted a freshman), Gyokko

Daki one time forced him to be a cheerleader for an entire year. He wasn't too happy

The only time Zoha will get into a fight is when someone is being highly disrespectful to one of his female friends which does get him suspended

Decides when he wants to go to school

His brothers can't really do a thing about it though it pisses Urami off when he goes to make sure he is awake but finds the quads and Zoha sleeping (The quads tried and failed)

Sometimes he leaves at 1 in the morning because Douma wanted food

He's truly only nice to his family and friends

The only one person who can truly disrespect him or piss him off without getting hurt is his cousin

His hair is curly and long. It goes down to his thighs but if straightened it'll go to his calves

He does cut it to a reasonable length like the length the Quads hair is at or his canon hair cut

Hantengu snd Urami have the same length hair as Zoha so Hantengu usually styles it for him

Daki likes to style his hair but certain styles makes him highly upset with her

Throws money at the problem or his fists

Looks mean but is truly nice

Likes to go to the gym with his brothers or Akaza

They get milkshakes afterwards

Not a big fan on pick me and snobby girls

If he is sick Sekido is the one who tends to stay home with him and gives him medicine and his blanket

Rarely goes to sleepovers because of Sekido packing his bag or that he wants to go home

In elementary school he was 4'10, middle school 5'2, currently he is 5'11, in the near future he'll be the same height as the quads

Many people find it hard to believe that he was born with purple hair. Most of the time it looks black in certain spaces/seasons, but if like you look closely with a flashlight or if he's out in the sun it's a dark purple (A unique feature he shares with the Quads)

Rich boy but keeps in his lane

The car he drove when he was 15 gave it away that he came from a rich family

Most of the time he is on the phone with his brothers, cousin, or Daki (In school)

He gets kicked out of class because of it

A sucker for sweets mainly chocolate

He's either brought lunch from Aizetsu or Urogi or brings his own lucnh

He is coddled a lot by the Quads mainly Sekido (doesn't matter if he big grown he still the baby)

Nonchalant attitude

Rui is sometimes nervous to go with him to different events or in general late at night

Zoha usually takes Rui to small parties or out to eat

Zoha once bought Rui several pet spiders because he got tired of hearing Rui complain about not having one

Tiktok Famous

He is known for having long hair/story times while he does his hair/doing one of his girl friends make up while doing a story time (During the time he was a cheerleader he learnt how to do makeup)

He didn’t go to school until he was 5

He was homeschooled because of his allergies

When he did go to school he was taken out around spring time because of his allergies and how he reacted to them.

When his brothers would do their homework he would sit in one of their laps and watch them or color a picture while they do their homework

The brothers spent half a month trying to convince their parents to let Zoha go to school with them

That's really all I have for now....I like the Senior adopting a freshman thing for Zoha and Rui along with the Hantengu's being rich

[melvika]

Vi: Fuck the council.

Sevika: I'm trying to,damn!

(Also, I want to know if Mel set up the alliance between Sevika and Shoola. In fact, I just want to know more about Shoola in general. I wonder if she had a similar background to Mel, but chose to come to Piltover for a quieter existence. She seems to have a lot of similar beliefs to Mel, at least politically.

Also, does "eat the rich" really apply to Mel? She seems to have made her money on her own somewhat honestly, without having to rely on her family's assistance. I could see Ambessa being petty enough to banish Mel without any real backing to aid her besides Elora. Very "throw the kid in the ocean and let them figure it out" type of energy. "No one helped me when I was growing up and I turned out fine, so why do you need help?" head ass. )

sjhgsjkds yea idk because growing up with wealth still makes things so much easier for you compared to those who grew up in poverty but she's still a Black woman so her challenges would likely appear in other ways. regardless, the medarda name alone helps her get by

for the "eat the rich" it's more of a joke cause i really mean eating mel's pussy 🤭 but hmmm i honestly don't see ambessa as being as heartless as many ppl make her out to be. i don't think she would have exiled mel to fend for herself, it was always to protect her because her empathy would put her in danger if she stayed in noxus. she's always cared about mel's safety above all else. ambessa being the true mother she is made sure the exile would protect mel, even if mel would misunderstand her intentions as a result of it

[aitathrowawaylmao]

@bonbongiveshell hi, I'm OP, and I just want to say that E is somebody I have repeatedly tried to get rid of, which is why my question was whether or not I was TA for losing my temper, because I can't help her or stop talking to her. I would never and actually have never kept somebody as a friend of mine just to direct my anger at them; that is so unbelievably cruel no matter how bad my anger issues may have been or are. I just wanted to clear this up because I must've not been clear enough about the fact that I'm trying not to hurt E at all, I try my best despite failing a lot. There's more info under the cut (I felt compelled to explain myself sorry cause the ask was sent like weeks ago 😭)

E will sabotage my schoolwork and my grades, and I actually have no idea how I've escaped somewhat unscathed with the amount of times I've lost my temper. If you don't count the knife thing. I always apologize except for that time after the attempted theft. I know she will destroy things because I have witnessed her try it and told her to fuck off. Once I was in the classroom hiding during PE and she came in to pour water onto my classmates' bags because they'd gotten into an argument with me. I was pretty upset because of that argument and I'd lost it, yelling at her not to destroy other people's property and since I was the only one who stayed behind, I would be blamed.

Moreover, I tried multiple times to flat out tell her not to speak to me: one notable instance was when she showed porn to me in school and I told her that was disgusting, so she apologized and did it again and I ignored her for a week. Without me to harass, E directed everything to J to the point where J was overwhelmed. Like I said, E hates the teachers and anything we say to those teachers about E needing help will be perceived as an attack. She will take action. It's a little ironic because she got J in trouble for a playful shove once while we're expected to let stealing, property damage, and being impolite slide.

Currently I am not talking to E, so she's diverted her attention and energy to cracking inappropriate pornographic jokes with (at?) teachers and other classmates. J and I have come up with an ultimatum to give to her, with R ready to become involved if needed, but we have to wait because I'm stuck in a group project with E and I don't want her to tank our grades just to get back at me. Lord save me 😭😭

Just another example of her uncooperative behavior, I once was doing a live dissection for biology (group of 5) and E had ignored my time sensitive instructions for the specimen and destroyed it while I was holding the scalpel, and it was just not a great time. I did not physically harm her but what I said was quite horrible. I apologized profusely. All of us had to redo it and got a deduction. For this, I was most definitely the asshole, but I didn't like her behavior either.

To everybody who thinks E has undiagnosed issues, she almost certainly does. She has self diagnosed herself with OCD and anxiety and a bunch of other disorders, and whilst the validity of those self diagnoses isn't something I can really speak on, I have ADHD and I don't act like that. Plus she refuses any and all efforts on J, R, and my part to help her with her OCD or whatever her diagnosis du jour is. I really try to at least treat her seriously to her face no matter what I personally think. I agree that having a disorder is not an excuse for this kind of behavior, I'm just kind of stuck. Thank you for everybody who gave their thoughts I really appreciate it and sorry this got so long. If you want to ask anything else I'll try my best to answer? 😭

(And yes she says her mother is unhinged of the yelling and throwing things variety and her father is a doormat, and I really do sympathize, but she's also extremely lax with my money/property/stuff when I try to take her out for lunch or offer to have her sleep over)

AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[quotessharry]

Follow you (Vettel Jr one shot)

I had this idea and it took me so long to write but I finally finished it at 5:33 AM lol, anyway this is connected to Vettel Jr trilogy that you can find in my masterlist. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also this is unedited because I wanted to publish it as soon as possible

Song: Follow you by Imagine Dragon

Words: 2.9

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x OC

Warning: mention of Zak Brown

I’ll follow you way down to your deepest low

She was sitting on the bed, watching Daniel in the corner recording a video to announce his departure from his team. They were in Belgium, after the summer break she felt like he needed her to be present more though he had never mentioned or complained about it.

The season hasn’t been kind to the racer men in her life. First she had to deal with his father’s retirement and now the issues that Daniel was facing, she’d never say it bluntly to his face but the reason she’d prefer to be in Aston Martin garage instead of mclaren was because she hated the team, she hated what they did to him and she couldn’t do anything but to watch how the most loved man in his life was breaking on the inside but held his head high and smiled without throwing comments. After the contract issue she didn’t trust herself to go anywhere near the Mclaren because God knows she has words to give them. Her eyes landed on Daniel, she couldn’t believe how he was able to be nice like that, she was raging inside, she simply couldn’t believe they’d do her favorite-driver-turned-boyfriend this dirty.

“I’m finished” Daniel announced, walking towards the bed and laid next to her.

She glared at him “with the way you’re contract is going you sure are” she couldn’t help the comment. Daniel wanted to laugh so bad but tried hard to surpass it just to see her further reaction.

“Sorry too mean?” She asked with raised eyebrows, not really caring about the matter. Daniel didn’t reply and finally let go of the laugh that was suffocating his throat, he threw a hand over her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Does that mean you’re jobless for now?” She asked, Daniel wouldn’t take her comments personally considering both of them used humor to deal.

“Well yes basically” Daniel replied simply

“I hope you know that you need to get a job, I can’t provide enough to take care of a baby, life expanses in Monaco and send money to my retired dad in Germany” she tried to keep the serious face going but the more she spoke, the more her laugh came out. Daniel was laughing so much that his cheeks went red and he was hardly breathing.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Daniel’s hand landed on her belly his fingers lightly tapping “I’m gonna ask a question, be honest”

“You wanna ask if I will stay with you if you don’t get a seat next year?” She made another joke flawlessly

“I was about to ask how you keep making jokes about this so flawlessly, no but seriously, you want a girl or a boy?”

Daniel was thriving with the fact that she was pregnant with their child, he always dreamed of having his own kids one day and the fact that the day was only months away from him was unbelievable, the thought always gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

She turned her body and laid on him, bringing herself up to look at his face, after months she wasn’t used to seeing his face without staring. Everyday felt like the first day in Texas, everyday she would get lost in him as if it’s the last day but she couldn’t get enough, she took her time appreciating his big brown eyes and the sparkle in them, his five o’clock shadow adorning his jaw. Daniel noticed she was staring but didn’t interrupt her, he had never admitted it but he loved when she would look at him like he is the only person that matters, he could see the love she had for him just by this simple act.

A small smile formed on her lips “I want a boy, a little boy with your curls and your big brown running around, making everyone loves him just like her dad”

Daniel’s chest fluttered at her words, he felt like he might explode by the amount of love he had for the woman in front of him “funny you said that because I want a girl with her mom’s wit and sass, a mini you running around and causing chaos” she didn’t know what to say, she simply hid her blushing face in his neck and make a sound.

Daniel smiled lovingly, his hand kneading the hair on back of her head while the other rubbed her back “are you blushing?” She couldn’t see him but could hear the smug smile on his face. Her voice muffled when she answered “yes”

Daniel’s voice dropped lower “why hiding from me? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you literally have my baby”

His comment made her laugh but she still didn’t move, too obsessed with the way he smelled. She raised her head to speak “I’m not embarrassed I just love hugging you”

“Ok let’s stay that way then”

She was like a grumpy cat when they got in the car, rambling nonstop about how she hated his team and she was happy that he wasn’t going to be there anymore. She could see how broken race results were making him look like and it broke her heart, after each race that she wasn’t there she wished she could hug him tight and assure him that no matter what, she’d always have his back, all of which when she’d sit behind her laptop and cry. Daniel let her talk until he parked the car, before getting out he turned to her with serious face and wagged his finger “be nice” the authority in his voice had her stomach flipping and she nodded. Daniel opened the door and before getting out he made another comment “that’s my girl, come on they’re waiting for us”

Before they both use their pass, cameramen were all over them, throwing questions at him, the perfect Pr trained Daniel was he kept it quiet, only his brows kneaded, she didn’t miss his slight reaction. Between see of people she got closer and touched his hand, whispering “I got you Danny, ok? I’m here”

Seb was the first person they ran into.

“Dad! I missed you” she let go of Daniel and ran to him for a hug.

“Sweetheart, how’s the baby?” He whispered with a wide smile

“He is good thanks” she replied subconsciously.

Seb raised his eyebrows “He? normally you wouldn’t know the gender until week 16”

Daniel stepped in with an arrogant smirk on his face “she wants a boy to look like me”

“Oh so you want a daughter who looks like her right?” Seb mentioned, teasing the couple in front of him.

“You two, stop. Dad don’t you have to get ready for conference? Aren’t you two sharing a conference anyway?” She pointed at both men in front of her.

“You coming to Mclaren?” Daniel asked, looking at her now disgusted face

“You kidding no way, I’ll either go to Max or Charles or Lewis or my dad, I have friends around”

Her hate towards McLaren made Daniel laugh. Seb rested his hand on her shoulder “that’s my girl, when I’m gone you can carry the Vettel legacy”

“Danny my love don’t worry, you have my dad with you, no one’s gonna come at you ok?” She cooed, looking lovingly at the 33 years old man in front of her.

“I get it you two are in love, please not in front of me”

Michael was trying hard to stiff his laugh at the way she was looking at the McLaren garage. She followed Daniel to his driver’s room, waiting for him to finish changing for press conference and media pen.

She stood in front of him and looked up, she always loved the way Daniel would look at her with those soft eyes, filled with love. She touched his shirt, trying to smoothen up the collar “your arrogance and ego is such a turn on Daniel Joseph Ricciardo” she didn’t know why she said that, but she didn’t want to mention anything related to Formula 1 at the moment.

Daniel laughed at her comment, deeply appreciated the ridiculousness of it “does that mean you’re turned on?”

She made a duh face “I’m never turned off near you, now listen, whatever you hear out there just remember I’m always around the corner ok?”

Daniel’s face was a bit more serious than usual, she knew deep down he was tired and drained from all of it but kept a smile to show her he is alright, but at her comment he dropped some of the act, his shoulders dropped and he gave her an appreciative smile, leaned down for a hug and rest his head on her shoulder. She gladly let him rest before facing unpleasant stuffs, her hands securely around him “thank you, I love you you know that right?”

“I do, and I love you too, go give ‘em hell, or don’t you’re too kind for that” both laughed and Daniel headed out.

She stood in front of RedBull garage, watching Max heading out with two RedBulls in his hand.

“Long time no see, here, a free RedBull”

She eyed the can, dying to have a sip but she couldn’t because of the baby.

“No thank you I already had one in hotel” she lied and blinked

Max’s eyebrows kneaded “what’s happening? Why you’re saying no to free RedBull? You’ve never done this before”

She looked at Max like she is offended “really Maxwell? You see me after months and this is your reaction? I came to take shelter here and this is how you treat me?”

Max could see the hint of Daniel’s humor in her, he knew they’ve been spending more time together since Silverstone. He put a sympathetic hand on her back “how’s Daniel doing? Is he ok?”

She sighs, hands combing through her hair in frustration “he tries to be, you know how he is, but he is just really tired and as much as he wants to shrug it off I can’t, I am mad, he doesn’t deserve this”

Max shook his head in acknowledgment “you’re totally right about this, but uh did…did he know?” He couldn’t form the full question, he didn’t dare to ask if his own team actually told him they are going to terminate his contract.

“No Max he didn’t, I told him to fight back, to shit on them and say no but he said he can’t force himself when he isn’t wanted”

“They’re such an asshole and we know it”

Their session about shitting on Daniel’s team was interrupted by Charles happy voice singing “o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao caio, I missed you so much” she didn’t have a change to speak as Charles threw himself on her, hugging tight. She gladly accepted and hugged back just as tight.

“Mate I’ll let you win Monza if you promise not to sing ever again”

To say Daniel was suffering was an understatement, he kept answering the same question over and over again in front of cameras that were filming and taking pictures repeatedly, he felt a deep tiredness in his muscles that even 3 weeks of summer break did nothing to solve it, but he was Daniel Ricciardo.

A question about him was thrown at Seb obviously, he turned to him with a smile and mentioned 2014 and how he beat him then he said Mclaren failed to extract his potential and Daniel felt like he wants to give the widest smile ever but he stopped himself.

Another question was for him, he gave an apologetic look to Pierre and Nicholas and they brushed it off with a look, this time he saw a chance to put the news out “ I mean I might take a sabbatical if things doesn’t really work out, you know to be there for the baby we have on the way and be the househusband” his wide smile was impossible to wipe, the thought of it made his chest burst in happiness and he wanted to scream it in the paddock.

“Seb did you know this?”

Sebastian laughed at the question “of course, they were in our house when it happened, we celebrated with a dinner”

Pierre leaned in, gave him a harmless bump on the shoulder “congratulations Daniel, can’t wait to see you as a dad”

Nicholas leaned in from other side “yeah congrats so happy for you guys”

The news travelled fast, Max was heading for an interview when he bumped into her “you know I’m offended you didn’t tell me personally, but actually never mind, you told me you wanna try for a baby during Silverstone and now you’re pregnant? What did you guys do exactly?” Max asked, blue eyes as wide as he could possibly get them, staring at the girl in front of him “sex, lots of sex, tons of sex everywhere”

Max couldn’t help himself, he smiled wide and genuine “but really, I’m so for you two, can’t wait to see mini Ricciardo in the paddock”

“Ah just the one person I was looking for” Lewis’ words stopped them, Max gave him a nod and left them.

“Lewis, you look good” he did, Lewis always looked good.

He gave her a smile “thank you, you too”

She could feel the fangirl within her was begging to be released but she had it under control “thank you for whatever you said about Daniel, really means a lot to me”

“Ah don’t mention it, I haven’t seen you in months come here give me a hug”

She noted how well he smelled when they hugged.

“Oh congratulations on the baby, I just heard the news, the kid is a lucky one” she felt too happy by his presence that she stood on her tip toe, leaving a light kiss on his cheek “thanks, you’re the best”

Lewis giggled at the kiss, rubbing his face “what was that for?”

She shrugged “just felt like it”

When she saw Daniel’s face she could swear she could hear her heart breaking, the usual spark in his eyes was gone and it looked like someone sacked all his happiness during the time they were apart, she hides the frustration in her face and clenched her jaw. The situation made her mad that her man looked like this, the man whose smile brighten up the entire paddock.

Daniel waved at her as they reunited in front of the garage with Lando joining them.

Lando threw his arms around both of them barely fitting them both for a hug “aw you guys congratulations, this kid isn’t even born yet and his luck is better than me, Daniel Ricciardo as a dad and Sebastian Vettel as granddad”

“See Daniel even Lando feels like it’s a boy” she pointed an accusation finger at Daniel.

“Yes I called it, it’s a boy”

She detached herself from them but Lando didn’t let go of Daniel “Daniel I’ll miss you so much”

Daniel touched his head and she felt like she was melting from the interaction in front of her.

“Aw, you said my kid would be lucky to have me as a dad, do you see me as a father figure?” Daniel tried to joke, making his voice thicker.

“What? No if anything I see you as a bother figure”

And they all burst out laughing.

She looked at Daniel with a smile “they all love you so much, no one wants you gone”

Her eyes narrowed “actually Zak Brown should be scared, Lewis gonna run him over with his scooter while my dad livestreams the whole thing on his new Instagram, we can ask Lando to do the same on his Twitch, on wait George and Charles are also in our team, I can ask Max to ask his dad to stab him, what do you say?” She announced proudly.

“All I will say is you’re insane and I love you insanely” he announced proudly, she was Sebastian Vettel’s daughter indeed.

After the race and media duty she left RedBull and went straight into the McLaren, too happy that no one noticed her. She looked around, Daniel was nowhere to be seen. She went deeper and looked at the back but he wasn’t there as well. She walked to the hallway and saw him on the floor, legs being sprawled on the floor and his face hidden in his palms. His curls disheveled due to the amount of time he ruffled them. He looked broken. She kneeled in front of him, not caring about her pants getting dirty.

She put her hand on his “Dan, Danny, hey look at me” her voice came out as a whisper, she was trying so hard not to cry in front of him.

Daniel’s eyes landed on her “oh it’s you, I missed you” he whispered back, no one was there but they felt like they needed to whisper to keep it between them. She touched his cheeks and he leaned in to her soft touch, the interaction soothing the pain and failure he was feeling deep inside. She moved closer and he buried his face in her chest, feeling like a defenseless child. She moved her hand and ran her hand in his hair, trying to give him any kind of a comfort she could offer. Daniel’s arms moved around her to pull her closer, he felt like the entire world was against him and he only had her. He hummed in approval against her, already feeling better “thank you”

“Don’t mention it, I got you darling ok? I’m here, you don’t have to talk” her thumb traced the line of his jaw and she felt the way his muscles tensed under her touch.

Daniel glanced at her, tiredness dripping off his every action “I’m so tired, let’s go home”

She leaned in closer and kissed his lips, he responded fast and kept her face close, needing to feel more of the kiss and her lips, it felt so sweet and he couldn’t help but smile in kiss, the act was very much needed and he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and rested his back against the wall so she could lean on him. His lips tasted salty and she sucked on it, smoothing the act with her tongue. she stopped and whispered on his lips “yes, let’s go home”

——————————

Also this part “actually Zak Brown should be scared, Lewis gonna run him over with his scooter while my dad livestreams the whole thing on his new Instagram, we can ask Lando to do the same on his Twitch, on wait George and Charles are also in our team, I can ask Max to ask his dad to stab him, what do you say?” was inspired by a tweet from @/tayhatessevery1 on twitter!

[hotwings0203]

Idk what this is but the thought of you being scared of Bakugos quirk is so hot to me

Tw:noncon, predatory behavior

“I swear he’s getting to be more and more like a villain every time I see him,” you giggle with Mina as you two walk out of the class. Bakugo had yet again exploded at one of your shared teachers for correcting him in his pronunciation of a word, and as usual it was quite a scene to behold. Chairs were almost thrown, his friends had to hold him back from leaping up while others egged him on, itching for amusement in their mind-numbingly dull class.

“Maybe Shigaraki was right,” your pink-haired friend snorts and you both collapse in wheezes, clawing and slapping at each other’s shoulders as the ludicrous image of Shigaraki being unable to reign in Bakugo comes to mind.

“Hey ladies, what’re you two laughing about?” A lilting and charming voice comes right at your ear, and you turn to see Denki, Kirishima and…Bakugo walking next to you.

Just because of his proximity and how you were literally just talking about him two seconds ago, you jump away from Bakugo’s glowering face and not so subtly hide behind Mina in a half playful jest.

“Huh? Whatcha ya jumpin’ around for?” Kirishima laughs and you exchange an embarrassed look with Mina.

“Oh nothing, we were just talking about how Bakugo’s quirk is totally villainous. We’re lucky he’s on our side,” Mina singsongs, but you slap her arm in alarm.

And well placed alarm at that, because Bakugo’s scowl deepens as he turns his head to you in a death-glare. You swallow hard seeing his expression and try to nervously laugh.

“But, uh, we were just joking. Right Mina?” You give her a pointed look and she deflects it happily.

“Nope! At least you weren’t, you’re half scared to death of him, isn’t that right Y/N?”

Denki interrupts before you can sputter in horror.

“Honestly, who isn’t scared of this dude?” He claps the other blond on his back and yelps when Bakugo’s hands start curling with smoke.

“Watch it dumbass.” He cranes his head to meet your eyes, but when he finds that you’re still avoiding eye contact with him he starts moving around his friends to better talk to you.

“My quirk isn’t that scary you idiot. It’s not like I care enough about any of you to blow you up-“

But with the smoke still curling form his hands and with the permanently intimidating scowl on his face reading closer and close to your, you can’t help but squeal and scrabble around him to sink your nails into Kirishima’s shoulders for protection.

“Okay, I get it! You don’t have to come any closer, I can see fine from here.” Your voice comes out too high and strained to be deemed as joking, but nonetheless everyone laughs at your dramatic show.

Everyone but Katsuki. Because he can see you’re actually scared, he’s seen it a hundred times on civilians who try to pretend they’re fine but still have that panicked glint in their eye.

“Jesus Y/N, with a reaction like that maybe he really is a villain. Bakubro, want us to send you back to Shigaraki’s place? Maybe you should reconsider his offer.”

And finally at Denki’s quip everyone including you this time laughs again in playful agreement, but yet again Bakugo’s blood starts simmering further.

Why the fuck were you being so obnoxious? He didn’t do anything to you before, right? So why the hell were you embarrassing him in front of all his friends and making him out to be this bloodthirsty monster?

Well, whatever. If a monster is what you want, then a monster is what you’ll get.

And so he waits for you after school, trailing behind you a couple hundred feet yet still keeping you in sight. He curses when you giggle with your friends, no doubt in his mind that you’re still throwing dirt on his name and he swears under his breath when you talk to Deku and his dweeb friends.

Of course when you hang around ditzy dorks like Deku he’s gonna look like a psycho in comparison.

But at one point you’re by the vending machine alone in a deserted hallway, fumbling with your coins and trying to quickly get a soda before your friends up ahead leave.

Too bad for you, because when he’s done with you they’ll never want to be seen with you again for their own safety.

You’re shoving money in the slot when he silently walks up a couple feet behind you.

“No friends around to gossip about me?”

You shriek and jump a good foot in the air at the sudden voice behind you. Clutching your heaving chest, you whirl around to see who it is.

Your blood runs cold. It’s Katsuki Bakugo, the absolute last person you want to be alone with in a deserted hallway.

Your feet move a step back.

Wrong move.

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your insulting retreat. You know he doesn’t take kindly to it, but with an expression like that how could you not?

“Uh, w-what do you mean?” You chuckle nervously.

He doesn’t laugh. In fact, he does something worse.

He matches your steps and moves forward a little bit.

At this you fully take a stride backwards and clash with the vending machine behind you.

He keeps advancing, slowly getting closer and checking you out, his head tilted as his eyes roam up and down your vulnerable body.

“Don’t move back. Why the fuck did you move away from me? That’s rude, we were just having a normal conversation.”

You surprise yourself by sounding level-headed in retaliation. “‘Kinda hard not to be a little uncomfortable when your conversation sounds so accusing.”

He lunges forward and you actually scream this time, throwing your hands up above your head in instinct to protect yourself from his proximity.

Bakugo doesn’t touch you but you can still feel his breath puffing on your head, can still feel the heat from his hands on either side of your body.

“You got a smart mouth don’t you? Is that why you embarrassed me earlier in front of everyone?”

“Embarrassed you-?” You squeak but immediately cut off when he thrusts his face right in front of yours, a manic look on his face as all his facial features stretch into a irate leer.

“I guess we’ll have to fix that tongue of yours. Put it to better use than to talk shit about me, right?”

Vermilion irises move from your face down your body, lingering on your chest and at the apex in between your legs.

Bile rises to your throat as he licks his lips and lets his lips ghost over yours, oh so close yet not touching.

And in the second before he descends, you shove him off with nothing but pure adrenaline feeling your fear and race past him, blindly running down the halls as fast as you can.

Surprisingly, you don’t hear anyone behind you. That doesn’t mean you don’t stop running though.

The real reason you don’t hear anyone behind you is because Katsuki Bakugo has an eerie smile on his face at your bolt. He languidly stretches his arms above his head and relishes in the popping of his joints, and in succession the popping of sparks in his hand. He kicks one leg out, then the other just to ensure you get a fair head start.

You’ve just made this so much more interesting.

He sets off at a light jog, and even in his carefree pace his strides are enough to eventually catch up with you, instinct like an animal’s guiding him through the winding halls and ending up catching a glimpse of your feet as you turn into another lane.

You’re panting, sweat pouring down your eyes as panic makes it hard to breathe or think rationally. The adrenaline that was pushing you is now dying down but at the worst time.

You take a quick glance back and your rapidly beating heart falters as you see him with a grin on his face as he practically jogs leisurely behind you. You’ve seen this same face on him when he’s in the battlefield, blasting through enemy hearts and blowing up heads as if they were fireworks.

He’s bloodthirsty. He wants you.

“Running away again? That’s not very heroic of you babe,” he calls out, and it’s terrifyingly infuriating how he’s not out of breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you half scream and sob, trying to run faster but failing miserably.

You see a bathroom sign out of the corner of your eye and frantically stumble towards it.

Katsuki knows you know he’s even you take a turn and he laughs to himself at how boringly easy this is.

Maybe he was scary.

He shakes it off and continues his hunt after you, coming forth until he faces the bathroom door in which you were cowering behind.

There’s a small window, and no other door. Just a couple of stalls, a terrified girl, and a psycho with the taste of revenge practically palpable on his lustful tongue.

He knock with faux politeness. “You wanna come out and do this the easy way or you want me to barge in and take you myself?”

You sob and wheeze in response, desperately pushing against the flimsy door in a pathetic attempt to keep him out. Bakugo merely crosses his arms and leans against the door, staring intently at it with a smile still on his face.

Judging by the weight pushing more at the bottom of the door, he can tell you’re probably sitting down in an effort to catch your breath.

You both know he can come in at any time he so well pleases, but he decides he’ll play by your rules for a bit longer, indulge you a little before your inevitable downfall.

He hums loudly and slides down to join your parallel position on the floor.

“I’m tryina be nice here, y’know. You acted so scared of me when I never even bothered you before. Aren’t I being nice right now by letting you choose for yourself?”

He sounds so conversational, as if he were talking to one of his buddies. You stay silent but your silence speaks volumes.

It serves as nothing but a means to piss him off further.

The two of you sit in silence for seemingly hours, even though it’s only around 20 minutes. Every second you feel like he’s going to break down the door any second and blast your face off, but miraculously he doesn’t.

You don’t know what you’d rather prefer: for him to prolong your strained agony by letting you be so close yet so far from him, or to end your suffering and get it done with.

But you needn’t sit in silence stewing in your own fear any further, for at the exact moment you begin to doze off with the dying of the light the weight on the other side of the door lifts and you startle awake at the scuffling on the other side.

You blink a couple of times and blanch when you see through the window the purple light indicating that you really have been here longer than you thought.

Bakugo cracks his knuckles and rolls his head, popping a few more kinks in his neck before breathing out and bracing for impact.

“Ready or not little bitch, here I come.”

“Bakugo, wait-!”

But your plea doesn’t last for more than two words. The door bangs open with such a sound that you actually think he’s blasted it straight off his hinges. You gasp and shield yourself, jumping backwards and covering your face.

“‘Thought I made it clear by now that you can’t run. So why’d you try to leave? Huh? Think you’re smarter than me? You think you’re stronger than me?”

He’s stalking forward again, and you’re left tripping back over your feet and whimpering at his salacious intent as he backs you up and corners you into a stall.

He already knows the answers to his rhetorical questions but he wants to hear you say it. He wants to hear that scornful conviction in your voice about how big and bad he was that you used earlier.

With you tripping backwards into the cramped stall, his approach quickens in hunger at feeling you, feeling the fear radiating off your body.

Bakugo presses up against you against the wall and takes up the space around you, invading your personal bubble. He’s everywhere, growling in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you’re sure bruises sprout from his touch, his erect penis grinding on the inside of your thigh.

Your trepidation and terror rises to an insurmountable height as he smothers you.

When he suddenly grips your chin and forces your head to face him you gasp. His touch is even more callous than you thought.

“You lookin’ here bitch? Good.”

His palm is raised towards you and before you can even widen your eyes in realization his appendage starts sparking madly. You shriek and try to throw him loose as little bits of embers fly out and made your face, his voice rough as always yet dangerously low and soft.

“S’not so scary after all is it? You’re reacting better to it than I thought.” Bakugo Blanca you mocks your writhing figure as you desperately try to evade the mini explosions.

“Okay, I get it, please stop I don’t like it!” You shrilly cry out but his hand moves from your jaw down to your neck, and squeezes the last remnants of opposition out of you.

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you get it. But honestly, I don’t care if you don’t like it.

Because I like it. I fucking love this quirk, ‘specially when you cower so prettily under it like you did earlier.”

You choke and try to scrabble at his hands but it’s like a butterfly’s touch to him, barely producing any fruition.

“I kept wondering to myself: why do I care if she’s scared of it? And then I realized,” he leans in and lets his lips brush over your ear, lets his hand lessen ever so slightly so that your main focus is his words.

“You just looked good enough to eat when you know you’re beneath me. When you know how dangerous I am.”

He pulls back and assesses the look on your face. “Makes you look good enough to eat.”

And without further ado he lowers his hand and starts rubbing his alit palm on your clothed pussy, his erection getting harder as your screams wilt into whines.

Your legs flail uselessly as he burns a hole through your pants and his fingers hook aside the band of your panties.

Bakugo thrusts his hips forwards and grinds his straining cock on your moist lips, taking in your blubbers and teary eyes.

You can’t even speak, you can only cry out like a child as he thrusts harder and harder, so hard that your back hits the wall painful and the stall walls rattle behind you.

“You-pant-fucking scared-pant-now slut?” He rasps, his head bobbing on rhythm with yours as he practically lifts you off your toes to match his pace.

Your clit is caught between the fabric and rolled cruelly pleasurable as his tip leaks precum, staining your own panties in the process.

With your attention rapt on his now-uncovered dick sliding in and out of your folds, he takes this opportunity to take his other hand off your neck and blast the wall next to your face.

The second you open your mouth in shock as bits of tile rain down on your face he slams his steaming palm over your lips, burning the soft flesh as you weep openly.

He sets off two more near your sides and another above your head, his own face aligned right in front of yours so you can see the mean smile on his face all the while he sets your heart racing at an alarming speed.

When the smoke clears and you can start feeling glass and tile imprint on your once-smooth face, he positions his dick up so that it prods at your hole and yanks your hair back.

His eyes practically glow with the mini fires preserved in the walls with his blasts, the impact of the air rushing around him makes his hair even spikier, his body is taunt and even more imposing than before.

His teeth gleam with the orange and red light next to you. His chest doesn’t heave, because he’s at ease with your terror.

“You think you know fear?”

With one swift movement he shoves up into you, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth.

“You haven’t met me truly yet.”

[yourmidnightlover]

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

————————————————————————

you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore​

@spenxerslut​

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

[strangelysamantha]

cheerleader ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: swearing, flirting, slight angst in the beginning (barely)

words: 2,365.

summary: rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

request? no :)

a/n: please like and comment if you enjoy! thank you, ilysm <3

my masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

most things rafe wanted, he easily got. it was a known fact. his parents were financially stable so they could afford to throw money down the drain for useless items that wouldn’t be used more than once. his popularity and name allowed him to get away with most things. except you. you seemed to not care about his wealth or his looks. you didn’t even care to give him the time of day. he took this as a challenge. he was destined to get you to like him if it was the last thing he did.

the first time he talked to you was during school. he thought his charm and popularity would make you swoon. instead, it was quite the opposite. he approached you at your locker, his smile bright. “hey. i’m rafe.” he extended his hand out to you. “hello, rafe.” you shake his hand back, before retreating your hand to your side. you stare at him in confusion. “uhm am i in the way of your locker?” you question, he shakes his head. “oh no, actually. i just wanted to introduce myself to you.” you nod your head. “well rafe, it was nice to meet you, i guess. but i’m running late for class.” you shut your locker, speeding off to class.

rafe stayed by your locker in awe. you really thought rafe was just waiting to get to his locker? it’s halfway through the school year, if his locker was by yours, you would have known by now. he embarrassingly walked away, heading to his first class. that awkward moment was lingering in his head, stuck on replay. your facial expression that showcased confusion stayed still in his mind. by third hour he was over it, not as embarrassed. he shrugged it off, excited to try again.

rafe actually didn’t know that much about you. he saw you in the halls occasionally. his interest in you peaked when he saw that you talked to topper a lot. since you were heavily associated with topper, he believed that it would be easy to befriend you. it’s clear to him now that isn’t the case. he can’t help but feel surprised at your lack of knowledge for him. everyone knows of rafe, and you should especially know because of how well you know topper.

regardless, rafe knew what he had to do. he needed to see topper, and investigate him. rafe pulled his phone out, texting topper to meet him.

topper met rafe in the boy’s bathroom before fourth period. they scoped the bathroom, ensuring to themselves that they could openly talk since they were alone. rafe didn’t hesitate, he immediately bombarded topper with questions about you. “what’s with the sudden interest?” topper asks, confused.

“i don’t know, i keep seeing her in the hallway and she stares at me.” topper nods, “well she does good academically, i know her because her family is friends with my family, she’s on the cheerleading team, i don’t know man. what info are you wanting?” the cheerleading team. rafe smiled to himself, you are a cheerleader. “that’s good enough, i just needed some info so i could know if i want to meet her or not.” topper laughed, “alright man. i gotta go.” rafe nodded, “see you later.” topper fist bumped rafe before walking out the bathroom.

you were a cheerleader? he had no clue. it dawned on him, if he had no idea of who you were, why would you know who he was? he shook his head at the thought, instead heading to class.

on the other side of the school sat you, fidgeting with your pencil as you struggled to keep up with the current notes. the interaction you had with rafe was confusing you. why did he suddenly want to meet you? it didn’t make sense. the whole class period you tried to wrap your brain around his actions, trying to figure out what his intention was, but you fell short.

at lunch time you sat at a table, you usually sat with friends but they were absent. it didn’t help they were absent the one day someone popular randomly takes an interest in you. you sit on the chair, pulling out your math homework. if you knocked it out at lunch, you had a high chance of not having homework. you start the first problem, but immediately halt when your family friend, topper, taps on your shoulder. “hi tops.” you smile softly at him, setting your pencil down and turning your attention to him. he smiles at you, “hey.”

you pick up a goldfish, plopping it into your mouth. “how have you been?” you question topper. he shrugs, “same old same old. family is still upset with me, per usual.” you nod, soaking up what he said. “dang, that sucks. it’s so annoying how people hold grudges. they don’t know how to forgive and forget.” you shrug, smiling up at him. he returns the smile, “i know right.” you place your homework back in your bag, assuming you wouldn’t be able to finish it during lunch.

“what did you even do?” you ask him. he smiles, “uh i accidentally pissed a pogue off so they got revenge by sinking my new boat.” your eyes widened, “what! holy shit you must have fucked up bad.” he frowns, “i didn’t really want to do it, you know how tricky it is with our reputation and who we have to associate with.” you laugh, “oh i know all too well of what that’s like.” topper rolls his eyes, assuming you’re talking about him.

“hey! i’m not too bad.” you laugh, “it wasn’t about you. you aren’t bad at all.” you look up, seeing rafe take his backpack off. you glance at topper to see he is confused as well. “hey rafe, what’s up?” topper questions rafe, who had just sat down at our table. “nothing much man, saw you over here and decided to join.” you laugh sarcastically, “inviting yourself to our private party?” you question, slightly joking. rafe felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy when you grouped yourself and topper together.

“i’m just kidding rafe… kind of.” you grin, topper joining in by chuckling with you. rafe awkwardly laughs along. he pulls himself together, thinking of things to say. “are you going to the football game tomorrow?” rafe waits for your response. you smile slightly, “yeah, but i’m a cheerleader so i’ll be on field.” he nods, “oh, that’s cool.” you nod awkwardly. “yeah.” he smiles subconsciously, excited to see you in a uniform. his smile disintegrates when topper confronts him. “what are you smiling for bro?” rafe stared at him, unamused. “nothing.” topper scoffs, “alright then.”

you steal looks between rafe and topper, still confused. you don’t ask any questions, you just continue eating your food. the bell rings, indicating that lunch is over. you gather up your trash, standing up. you notice rafes eyes lingering over your body. his eyes fixating between your thick thighs, and hips. you feel self conscious under his stare, so you quickly stand up and walk to the trash can. rafe follows after you, quick on his feet. he comes up to your side, much to your dismay.

“will i see you at the game tomorrow?” you turn your head to the side, “are you going to the game?” you return. he nods, “yeah.” you smile, “then you’ll probably see me.” he grins, “okay, cool.” he quickly turns around, leaving you by yourself. you were confused still, but hey, maybe having rafe as a friend would be good.

you got through the day quickly, heading immediately home. you work on homework, chores, and finally get ready for bed. before bed you prepare your uniform. you set it out, along with a jacket so you weren’t on full display at school. you wake up the next morning, putting on your uniform, along with a bow in your hair. you head to school, slightly nervous for your possible interaction with rafe.

when you arrive at school, you don’t see rafe. you only saw topper, who was eagerly heading in your direction. he smiled, standing still in front of you. “hey, good morning!” you smile, “hi tops.” the two of you talk for a bit, him walking you to class. “can i pick you up before the game?” topper asks. “sure, it has to be a little earlier than the fans. i have warm ups and stuff i have to do before the game.” he grins, “okay! just text me tonight when you want me to pick you up.” you put your hands in your jacket pocket. “okay, thanks topper!”

he walks away, and you walk into your first hour class. you go through your classes as usual, rafe not showing up. you couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or relieved, but either way it didn’t matter, you had a game you had to prepare for. you do your make up, and touch up your hair. you chug water, and began stretching. you text topper, saying he could pick you up now, if he still wanted to drive you. his response was quick and enthusiastic.

topper pulls up to your house, his music loud, and a large smile plastered on his face. “game day!!” you laugh along, repeating his words. “game day!” you open his door, hopping inside. “let’s go!” you playfully roll your eyes at his eagerness, “to the school!” topper smirks, stepping on the gas, and speeding out your driveway.

the two of you sing along to the songs on the radio, before it abruptly ends due to you two arriving at the school. he decides to stay in his car, planning on joining right when the official game starts. you skip down the field, joining your teammates. you stretch with them, before you practice the chants and dance numbers.

at six thirty, they start allowing people in. you immediately see topper hunched over the fence, him waving frantically at you. you wave back, jogging over to him. “you ready?” he asks, you bite your lip, “i guess.” he laughs at your nerves, excited for you. you glance over and see rafe. he hadn’t seen you yet. your breath gets caught in your throat, slightly scared and self conscious to see him.

topper gives you reassuring words, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice rafe had found you. rafe slowly makes his way towards topper, keeping his cool. rafe stares at you in your cheerleading uniform. his breath gets heavy, he stares, watching you talk to topper. jealously fills his chest, of course topper was here first. rafe quickly approached the two of you, eager to break the conversation up.

“hi rafe.” you smile softly, looking up at him. he smiles, “hey. good luck today.” you fiddle with your fingers, “thank you.” rafe stays silent. you hear the coaches whistle. “i got to go, i’ll talk to you when i can!” you quickly turn around, jogging back to the cheerleading circle.

rafe watches as you jog away, hes mesmerized by how well the uniform fit. he knew you would look good, but damn. he looks over at topper, who makes eye contact with him. “what’s up rafe?” topper stares at rafe, waiting for an explanation. “she is so hot.” topper scoffs, “bro, already whipped?” rafe rolls his eyes, but grins. “for her, yeah. i’d willingly be whipped.” the two boys sit on the bench, topper watching the game, and rafe watching you.

after sitting in silence, rafe speaks up. “do you think she likes me?” topper quickly glances at rafe, trying to see if he was joking or if he was serious. when topper saw he was serious, he genuinely contemplated it. “id say maybe, i mean she doesn’t shrivel up in disgust when you are around. that’s a pretty good sign.” rafe shook his head, “that’s true. that is a good sign.”

rafe admired you, you getting his full attention. on break you rush to the fence, excited to see rafe and topper. “hey!” you look up at them, “you are doing great!” topper reached down, highfiving you. “thanks!” you look over at rafe, something took you over because he actually looked hot. you bit you lip slightly, you were going to say something, but rafe beat you to it. “you look good.” rafe smirked slightly, causing heat to rise to your face. “thank you, rafe.”

you return to the group again, your heart racing. the idea of rafe made your breath heavy. you continue to chant, and preform. you occasionally looked up rafe, his eyes always focused on you. you had a low chance of being able to go to the fence again, so you focused entirely on perfecting the choreography. the crowd was cheering loudly, your hometown winning the game.

at the final quarter, your hometown won by one point. your team jumps up and down, ecstatic. you preform a final show, before you break apart. you chug water. you rush in line with the other cheerleaders, going in a straight line to high-five the football players. you smile brightly at them, telling them congrats for winning the game. most of them returned a smile, and thanked you.

after the bleachers started to empty, you decided to meet up with topper, and possibly rafe. you look around for topper but he was gone. you turn around, accidentally bumping into rafe. “oh i’m sorry.” he stares at you, “hey, by the way topper left, said he was going on a date with a girl from the cheer team.” you frown, “oh. he was my ride.” rafe smiles, “you can ride me- i mean ride with me.” you laugh lightly at his switch up, “okay. i’ll ride you.” your heart is racing, the after game adrenaline flowing through your veins, which was causing you to be bold. he smirks at you, “okay, i’d enjoy that.” you mimic his smirk, following him to his car.

he turns around, “are you sure?” you nod, “i’m sure, are you?” he is shocked by your question, “so fucking sure.”

part two will be steamy <3

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Routines

Tim and Marinette lived busy lives.

It was by choice, of course.

They were both prominent figures in their fields that could pick and choose the assignments they wished to take, had more money than they could ever dream of using thanks to the hefty trust fund that being even tangentially related to Bruce Wayne provided, and no one would blame them if they were to lessen or give up their vigilantism. If they wished, there was nothing stopping them from taking a smaller workload, from using up all of their sick days, from taking vacations, from quitting their jobs entirely...

That being said, they likely never would.

And the tabloids loved to speculate on their relationship because of it. How could they spend much time together if Tim was always at work, developing new technology for Wayne Enterprises? Marinette was cheating, how could she not when so much of her job as a designer involved getting up close and personal with models? Not to mention all of the business trips. Surely, the relationship had some kind of monetary motivation, or maybe it was just to more seamlessly merge their companies, or it had only happened for PR reasons.

They let them speculate. They simply didn’t know better.

The tabloids didn’t get to see how they acted behind closed doors, after all.

There would be days where neither of them went in to work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

~

They took breaks. Technically. If you squint.

There would be days where neither of them went into work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They would turn on the coffee machine and then make their way over to the sofa. Marinette would nestle herself into his side and smile as he wrapped his arm around her. He would pull her as close as he possibly could so he could still use both arms to type.

He usually took video calls like this. It was always so much easier to maintain a pleasant smile, even when people often looked down on him for his age, because whenever he felt it start to waver he could simply look down at his girlfriend and suddenly he would find that it would be back in full force.

She would prop her sketchbook on her legs and start on some new designs. The designs she did like this were always, inexplicably, more lively than the other ones -- full of vibrant colors and swooping curves in a way that some of her other works lacked. If asked, Marinette would joke that the secret ingredient was love.

And, sure, this wasn’t technically taking a break from work. They were still productive, still did tasks...

But they counted it. They always came back to work the next day with the same euphoric feelings in their chests, the same springs in their steps. How could they not? They’d spent the entire day doing what they loved with the person that they loved. Who could ever want a break from that?

~

Every time one of them came back from a business trip, they made sure to spend the night together.

Tim would lay back in bed, Marinette on top of him. Her head would come to rest on his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. His fingers would find their way to her hair and she would huff a little, knowing that her hair was about to get hopelessly tangled as he fidgeted with the silky strands, but she would nuzzle into his chest all the same.

They would watch a TV show. It didn’t matter whether it was good or bad. As long as there were people and some semblance of a plot, they would gladly stay wrapped up in each other’s arms to watch it.

Tim would rattle off whatever theories he had developed as they came to mind. Some of them were absolutely insane, he knew, and would never happen… but it was worth making a fool of himself if it got Marinette’s face to light up or if he earned one of those little giggles that escaped her when he was instantly proven wrong.

Marinette would, at least, pause the show whenever she wanted to talk, though it wasn’t out of an understanding of how time works. No, it was so she could sit up a little in his lap and point at whichever character had offended her this time. She would go on long rants about how makeup was just as important as outfits in costuming, but it was often overlooked in favor of making the actors look pretty. And, maybe she had already said all of this before, but it’s important, Tim! And he would just nod his agreement. Because it was important -- a TV night certainly wouldn’t feel like a TV night without at least one rant.

And then the screen would go black, the most recent episode done.

Tim would draw back a little and then pretend to be shocked when his hands were stuck in her hair.

“Oh noooooo,” he’d say. “I guess I can’t let go yet.”

“How unfortunate,” she would deadpan.

He’d smile cheekily at her.

“Shut up.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!” He’d argue with overexaggerated offense.

She would smile, shaking her head as much as she could with the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t have to. You have a presence about you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he’d say.

And, sometimes, she’d bring her hands up to cup his face. “Not sure if it was a compliment, but I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way,” she’d whisper before pulling him closer for a kiss.

… but, most of the time she would just laugh and say: “It wasn’t one.”

~

Once a month, Marinette tried to teach Tim to cook. Of course, they both knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He’d failed to make mac n’ cheese once, and Marinette -- who had lived the first eighteen years of her life in a Parisian bakery -- wasn’t good at discerning which meals were ‘easy to do’.

But that didn’t stop her from trying.

She would come up with a new recipe, would claim that this one was truly dummy proof…

And then Tim, dummy that he was, would manage to mess it up. Without fail, he would find some way to do something wrong. He would leave the milk on the stove and then be surprised when said milk on the stove decided to revolt against the system. He would raise the temperature on the thing they were baking so it would go faster and then be shocked when the cake didn’t rise at all. He would put too much in the mixer and then not understand why the contents had exploded over the two of them.

Worst thing was, she was pretty sure he was actually trying. He just… couldn’t seem to do it.

So, she would just kiss the disappointed frown off of his face and promise that they would do better next time.

And, every time without fail, he would light up.

“There will be a next time?” He would ask.

“Yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute, I can’t say I love being covered in ingredients.”

Tim would kiss her cheek, and then draw back and lick his lips. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Something about my girlfriend being covered in tasty food really does something for me.”

“Like I said: you’re lucky you’re cute.”

And, even though she would say that, there was no mistaking the amusement dancing in her eyes.

~

They weren’t particularly religious, it was hard to be when Marinette had a god living in her earrings that obeyed her every command…

Which meant celebrations for the two of them were few and far between.

But, at least, they celebrated their anniversary.

They would sit on the rooftop, the blankets doing nothing to keep the hard tiles of the roof from digging into them and they did even less against the chilly Gotham air.

She’d stare up at the sky with him.

And, since it was Gotham, there were very few stars to be seen through the dark red and black haze of clouds that hung over the city.

But they didn’t mind.

Marinette smiled. “It’s our colors.”

He didn’t look over, watching the colors swirl above them. “Even the sky thinks we’re a good couple.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. The sky god really does have a thing for love.”

He gave a short puff of laughter and finally tore his eyes away from the sky. “Really?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “No clue. There might not even be a sky god.”

He scoffed and untangled his hand from its blanket prison to give her a tiny shove. She could have dodged the attempt with ease, but she allowed the hand to make contact.

To her surprise, he grabbed ahold of her shoulder and pulled her into him. She gave an undignified little squeak and, if it weren’t for the fact that he was right there, she would have probably faceplanted onto the tile.

But, instead, her face came crashing into his soft, pillowy shoulder.

She looked up at the crooked grin that she had come to love over the years and huffed, pulling her own arms free so she could shove him. For real.

He flopped back, the hand he’d managed to get out coming to rest over his chest as if he were hurt.

“How could you? Roofs hurt, you know.”

“Well, yeah, if you throw yourself down on tiles it’s not going to feel too great.”

He cracked a grin, though he quickly tamped it down to keep up the act: “Victim blaming at its finest.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over him. One of her hands cradled his cheek, her thumb tracing the tiny scar on his cheekbone.

He looked up at her. And she thought, somewhere, that maybe the reason the pollution in the city was just some kind of coverup so no one would know that they all resided in Tim’s eyes.

And then she cursed herself mentally for thinking something so cheesy.

She had to make up for it somehow:

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”

“I am. But you love me anyway.”

Dang it. How was she supposed to feign being annoyed when he looked at her like that? With that soft smile and thick lashes and hair that framed his face just so.

She decided it wasn’t worth trying to pretend.

Marinette let herself match his smile.

“I do.”

“Save those words for our wedding,” he joked softly.

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”

“I could be doing that right now. Who knows, this could all be my plan.”

“It’d be a good plan,” she said. “I’d probably say yes.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Isn’t that essentially you proposing to me?”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then she laughed a little. “I guess it kind of is. So, Tim, will you marry me?”

His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.

And then his face lit up with a smile that made her heart flutter.

“I hope you know I want a ring.”

She giggled. “Just say yes, you idiot. We can always get the ring tomorrow.”

His smile only stretched further. “Yes. I’d love to marry you.”

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed against his.

“I love you, too,” he breathed.

Marinette didn’t hesitate any longer, tilting her head to give him a proper kiss. He freed himself of the blanket and she gasped a little against his lips as he wrapped her up in it as well, drawing her close.

She pulled away just a little, her forehead coming to rest against his. She couldn’t seem to get the dopey smile off of her face, but she wasn't completely sure she even wanted it gone.

“I proposed first, so I won,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

He smiled. “No, I did.”

[lady-literature]

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. 

And they all live happily ever after the end.

[cherienymphe]

Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence, 

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

~

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

~

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox  @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy​

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

--

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with.  Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

[kuroosweakness]

more single dad!kuroo | sumi and her stuffed animals + special bath + talks about her lost tooth + school troubles + dinner 

“what’s tim doing here?” 

the green sea turtle plush lays on his back, having stared at the ceiling for the past hour. 5-year-old sumi comes running through her dad’s room’s door with her hair flopping against her back with every step. 

“tim’s gonna stay with you today,” she informs kuroo and makes grabby hands at the turtle. naturally, kuroo plucks the plush off the mattress and places him in her hands. 

“oh? why with me?” an amused smile creeps onto his face. it’s always her and her stuffed animals. but oh, he can’t deny he doesn’t hearing all of the drama between her stuffed animals. apparently, the imagination of a 5-year-old is endless. 

sumi takes a good long look at tim and his green flippers. she scrunched up her face and makes a pouty face. “tim’s tired of the other mean animals and wants to gonna stay with you today,” she tells him, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “you’re not gonna be mean to him?” 

“course not,” kuroo huffs. he sits down on the carpet floor and sumi follows. “tim and i are great friends, right tim?” 

not to his surprise, tim doesn’t reply. sumi nods and places the turtle on her dad’s lap. “okay. tim’s staying with you today.” 

“mmm...” kuroo arches an eyebrow at her as she suddenly pulls out her dolphin plushie ...from under the bed? “daphne’s gonna stay with me too? wow, am i popular,” he teases. 

daphne, the blue dolphin, joins tim on kuroo’s lap. “she’s gonna stay with you too because the other animals are being mean.” 

“i see,” kuroo slowly nods and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “who’s being mean to them? and why?” 

“the dinos! because they’re-” she points at the plushie on her dad’s lap. “-ocean animals so the others don’t like them.” 

“c’mere,” kuroo waves at her to come closer and she does. she plops herself right on her dad’s lap. her mischievous smile proves that she’s aware of squishing tim and daphne. “we’re gonna haveta wash your hair today,” he tells her while combing her hair with his fingers. 

“ooh, special bubbles?” 

he laughs. “no, not with special bubbles. gotta save water, baby....for sea turtles and dolphins like tim and daphne.” 

after bunching her hair into a small ponytail, kuroo sits back and lets her do a 360. “all done~” 

before she bounces out of his room, he calls out, “sumi, wait-” 

sumi turns around and looks at her dad questioningly. 

“you can’t-” kuroo gets up and brushes his pants, picking up tim and daphne from the floor right after. “-just let the dinos be mean to tim and daphne.” 

“i’m not,” she says. “i’m gonna teach them a good lesson right now.” 

before kuroo can say something, her eyes darken like the way they always do when she’s about to tell her dad something interesting. 

“do you know what they said to daphne once?” 

kuroo places the plushies on his bed and walks over to her. “what did they say?” 

sumi looks down at the floor and follows her dad out the door and to the kitchen. “they made fun of her because her smile” 

kuroo nods along, opens the top fridge door, and bends down to ruffle his daughter’s hair. “what happened afterwards?” 

sumi’s shoulders slump and her chest grows heavy. “she cried and they laughed. it-” she picks at her lips. “ because she lost her tooth and now her smile look funny” 

a small thud distracts her from her train of thought. kuroo says a small “oops” and picks up the jar lid that fell on the floor. he places the lid back on the counter and croutches down at sumi’s eye level. 

his eyebrows draw together; his eyes scans over her face for any signs he may recognize. “now, now” he rubs his palms against her shoulders soothingly. “they have no business making fun of daphne for something as natural as losing a tooth.” 

he knows his words aren’t much help, but he truly doesn’t know what else can make her feel better. kuroo’s glad she can’t tell how much her crying hurts him too. 

“besides, her smile does not look funny. i think she looks beautiful, and my opinion matters, doesn’t it? since has daddy been wrong?” he gives her a small smile in hopes that it’s a contagious one. 

she stifles a laugh and roughly wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “you got milk chocolate and dark chocolate mixed up!” 

he smiles and rolls his eyes. “well excuse me. they look like the same-” 

“nuh uh!...” she giggles. “at least you didn’t get white chocolate mixed up!” 

“it’ll be troubling if i did,” he laughs. his face softens at her. after a few more shoulders rubs, he asks, “is daphne feeling better about her smile now...?” 

she sniffles, inhales, and breaks into a sob. kuroo’s eyes widen as she presses her head against his chest. and suddenly, his grey shirt is her next tissue. 

“but no one else lost tooth” she chokes. it doesn’t take long for her teary eyes to release teardrop after teardrop. she hates this, hates being weak, hates how she looks with big, red, and puffy eyes. but at least she’s crying in front of her dad and not those boys at school...daddy wouldn’t laugh at her, ever. “it’s only me with big hole in smile” 

she pulls back and shows him the gap between her front tooth as if her dad doesn’t already know. “sumi-” 

“it looks dumb.” she frowns and tightens her hug around kuroo’s neck. “so so so dumb” 

kuroo continues rubbing and patting her back like the way he used to when she was younger, and couldn’t sleep at set times. “you know,” kuroo gently begins. “those mean people will lose their teeth later and they’ll have gaps in between their teeth too. plus, the tooth fairy wouldn’t give them money because she never awards mean people.” 

sumi sniffles and presses her eyes against her dad’s shirt to soak up leftover tears. 

“so not only did they lose a tooth, but they also don’t get money and have no right to be making fun of you.” kuroo slowly pulls back and examines his daughter’s tear-stained, red, scrunched up face. “after a quick face wash, you’ll be as good as new” 

sumi doesn’t reply and climbs on her dad’s back for a piggy back ride to the bathroom. 

he lifts her up and tightens his hold on her small thighs. as he starts walking, he sees her feet dangling by his side and wonders, where did her other sock go? he sighs and shakes his head with a tired smile, not another missing sock...

“sumi, i’m sure i’ve already told you this, but another tooth will grow back. an even stronger, better tooth!” 

the bathroom lights flick open and kuroo steps onto the tiled floors, setting his daughter on the counter and holding onto her thighs to prevent her falling off. 

he catches his reflection in the mirror and stifles a laugh. the neck area of his shirt is soaked with tears and snot. 

“daddy?” 

he looks up at her and her bunched up fists. “hm?” 

“can i take a special bubbles bath?” she points at the bathtub and puts on her best set of puppy eyes. naturally, kuroo’s weak heart makes him nod ‘yes’ before he can process what she asked. 

“really? yay~” she inches closer to the edge of the counter and- 

“woah woah woah,” he sets her down and lets her climb into the tub. sumi sets her clothes aside and sits patiently in the tub, waiting for her dad to turn the water on. 

“the water’s cold at first, remember?” he teasingly pinches her cheek, thankful that she mind is no longer on her fallen tooth. maybe he should have a talk with her kindergarten teacher-

“dad?” 

he looks up and wonders where the -dy went. 

“the water’s warm enough now!” she gives the water a few kicks and cups and handful before throwing it up and laughing. sumi treads across the water and grabs the colorful bath bomb she picked out at the store a while ago. 

kuroo turns the water off and she eagerly throws the bath bomb in. “...why’s it not melting? :((” 

with a quick look at the floating ball, kuroo chuckles and picks it right out the water. “there’s plastic wrapping around it, baby.” 

sumi’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and watches her dad peal the wrapping away. “throw it in!” she tells him. 

he does just as she says and the two watches small bubbles form around the blue-turning water. 

“it’s blue...it’s red...it’s purple!” she cheers and throws her arms above her head. kuroo smiles in acknowledgment at the fact that she knows her colors well. 

~~~

“daddy?” 

there goes the -dy. thank goodness it’s back. “yes, baby?” 

she pokes at his arm that’s drying her off with a towel. “can i get more plushie?” 

“no more dinos though...” 

“course not! i want-” she taps her lips in thought and squeals when her dad’s cold hands comes in contact with her warm skin. “-i want more sea plushie” 

“how about a shark? sharks constantly lose and grow more teeth” 

“but sharks are mean” 

kuroo slips her shirt over her head. “not all of them,” he says. “a lot of sharks can be nice and we could name him or her-”

“what about ‘smark’?” sumi suggests. 

kuroo snorts. “’smark’? not sure if that’s a name or even a word, sumi...but if you’d like, then sure.” 

“daddy?” 

“yes?” he gives her hair some final ruffles and grabs a nearby comb. 

“you used to call me punkin” 

“...mm, and what about it, punkin?” 

“the kids look at me funny and laughed when you called me punkin” 

“did they?” kuroo sighs. “god, why are the kids in your kindergarten class so mean” 

“i don’t know,” she quietly replies. “they’re just like the dinos!” 

he frowns. “screw the dinos” 

sumi holds her belly as she laughs. “screw the mean boys and girls too” 

after a few final hair brushes, kuroo pats her head and grins. “my beautiful girl~” 

“pumpkin,” she corrects him.  

kuroo pulls back in surprise and slowly sets her back on the floor. “’my beautiful pumpkin’ sounds like i’m talking to the orange vegetable,” he chuckles. “i thought you didn’t like it when i-” 

“i do like it. and pumpkins.” she bounces out of the bathroom and jumps onto couch, like the way she always does after baths. “daddy would you be sad if tim and daphne not sleep with you today?” 

“i would be more than heartbroken,” kuroo jokes from the bathroom. he flicks the light switch off and pads over to the couch she’s sitting on. her mischievous smile grows with every step closer. 

“then i guess you have to be heartbrochon” 

kuroo dramatically gasps as he sits down next to her. “and you’re completely fine with me being heartbroken? just when i thought you loved me-” 

“i do! but i love tim and daphne more so they need to sleep with me today.” 

kuroo tries to hide his face of betrayal at the fact that he’s not first place in her heart, not second, but third–after two stuffed animals. 

“so....” she crawls closer to him to display her irresistible puppy eyes again. “can i have a shark plushie?” 

“just so your shark plushie can take my place in your heart?” kuroo teases and leans forward to grab the tv remote. “i’d be fourth place-” 

“no you won’t! my list goes-” she looks deep in thought as she counts her fingers. “teddy, daphne, buddy, tim, fried rice, you”

kuroo’s mouth gapes open as he slumps against the couch. “i come after fried rice?” he laughs. “even though i’m the one who makes it for you?”

she laughs with him. her laugh matches his well–both loud, genuine, and more like a cackle. “fine, you come before fried rice.” 

but not before your four other stuffed animals? he shakes his head in amusement. “i guess you’ll have to go to teddy, buddy, tim, and daphne to cook you dinner and tuck you in bed today~” 

he shrugs his shoulders in defeat and walks over to the kitchen. “it’s all too bad that i’ll have to enjoy my grilled mackerel all alone~” 

“daddy! you know how much buddy likes fish!” she grabs her polar bear off of the couch and marches after her dad. 

“he has great taste,” kuroo replies back. sumi glares at her dad and clings onto his leg as he washes the rice. 

“i’ll put you in first place if you buy me ‘smark’“ she playfully says. 

“ah...bribing won’t work on me, baby”

sumi huffs, releases her hold, clasps his sweatpants instead. “but you already number one on my list” 

“mm,” he hums back, unconvinced. conversations like these and teasing her are his favorite. he finds great joy in getting her riled up in little topics that might not matter to others, but means the world to him. 

“uh huh! you are!” she follows him to the fridge and widens her eyes at the sight of a popsicle. “can i have that?” 

“save it for dessert,” he replies back. 

“mm” she groans and walks over to pick up her polar bear that she accidentally dropped on the carpet. clink and clanks of pots and pans ring through the air as kuroo searches for the right pan.

“daddy? can i bring smark to school?”

“as long as if you don’t lose him,” he replies.

sumi’s face stretches into a wide grin. “does that mean you’ll get him for me? :)” 

kuroo lets out a long sigh. “yea, i probably will”

sumi bounces over to her dad again and beams. “you’re the best”

“yeah yeah” he laughs. “i was in like sixth place a few minutes ago”

“you always at number one,” she tells him as she goes on her tip toes to try to place her polar bear on the kitchen counter. she fails and buddy falls on her head.

“have i?”

sumi picks buddy up again and runs to her room. kuroo turns around at the lack of her voice and she suddenly runs back with her dinos.

“trash!”

kuroo’s eyes widen. “oh no no no, don’t throw your toys away”

“but they’re bad toys :(“

kuroo thinks about this for a second. “you gotta teach them to not be mean, give them a second chance, maybe they’ll become nice dinos”

sizzling sounds come from the pan and sumi smiles at the smell of fish. but quickly frowns again at her dinos.

“i guess,” she mumbles and runs back to her room. it doesn’t take long for her to run back out with teddy and buddy in her arms, her teddy bear and loose bear.

“i said you always been number one,” she tells her dad while scratching the side of her hair. “ask why”

“so you put me after fried rice to make fun of me?” kuroo teases.

“no? that was my list of ‘stuff i love’ not ‘people i love’ “

kuroo ponders this for a moment and reaches up for the little bottles of spice.

“so i’m on your ‘stuff i love’ and ‘people i love’ list? i’m a stuff and a person?” he chuckles.

“you’re number one on my ‘people i love’ list,” she says. sumi crinkles her nose at the smell of string spices. “and the only one”

“... i’m the only one? what about your friends? teacher? tim? buddy?”

“buddy’s a bear!” she exclaims like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “not person. and teddy’s my best friend, but he’s a bear too”

“mm... so no human friends?”

“nope, maybe you”

“maybe?” he laughs. “are we not friends?”

“you’re daddy! not friend”

“i can be friend and daddy at the same time!”

“but you can’t be daddy and fried rice at the same time”

kuroo stifles a laugh at her unexpected response. “that’s correct. do you ... does no one ....” kuroo bites his lip. how should he approach this topic?

“who do you sit next to during school?”

“amara and thomas” 

her response is quick, so she must know them well, right? sumi picks at the fluff of her polar bear and goes to sit on the carpet right outside the kitchen tiles.

“do they not talk to you?”

“sometimes,” she replies. she’s much more interested in why she suddenly sees a blue mark on her polar bear then the discussion with her dad right now. “buddy’s turning blue :(“

“...?”

“look!”

but kuroo doesn’t have the time to look away from the pan so he nods. “mm, we’ll give him a wash”

“okay”

“who else do you talk to during school?”

“mrs. chen” she frowns at the blue spot on her polar bear and checks to see if teddy has one too.

“anyone else?”

whew, teddy doesn’t have one. “sometimes amara”

with a click, kuroo turns the stove off and slides the mackerel on a white dish. “anyone else...?”

“no”

“ah... do you wish you have more people to talk to?”

“no, i talk to you all the time!”

“right, you tell me everything,” he beams. he brings a spoon to his mouth to taste the sauce.

“daddy why can’t guys make babies”

kuroo’s eyes widen as he splutters out the sauce. “...well, it’s just the way mother nature works”

“so you didn’t make me?”

kuroo avoids eye contact and rubs his neck sheepishly. “well..... it’s complicated and not something you should worry about”

“mrs. chen said i look like you, and she called me pretty. does that make you pretty?”

“...” conversations with a five year old can be quite amusing ... “it’s up to you,” he laughs. “do you think i’m pretty?” 

“i guess”

he laughs even harder at her dry response and quickly turns the conversation topic back around. “is school fun for you?”

“i guess”

“...” ah, there goes the painful short responses. “what do you guys do everyday-“

“daddy why do guys have to stand up when they use the bathroom-“

“remember buddy’s blue spot?” kuroo quickly butts in.

sumi’s eyes diverts back to her polar bear. “:(( buddy’s turning colors!”

kuroo lets out a long, heavy, and tired sigh. it’s been a long day for him as a parent and now he learns that his daughter doesn’t have any friends her age?

“buddy will be fine,” he reassures her and carries white dishes to the small dining table. sumi places a long kiss on buddy’s nose.

“daddy if you weren’t so tall i’d kiss you on the nose too”

before kuroo can say something, sumi changes the topic once again. “smark will be friends with tim and daphne.”

“mm”

“mrs. chen said that you’re really tall”

“...”

“she told ms. loren that you’re the most handsome dad”

“......”

“ms. loren whispered something about being my future mommy and it was really weird”

kuroo chokes on his spit and walks back into the kitchen quietly. “i-“

“i don’t want ms. loren to be my mommy” 

“oh you won’t have to worry about that,” he nervously chuckles. his daughter sure has a lot to say...he makes a mental note to avoid eye contact with ms. loren the next time he drops her off. 

“daddy do you like tim and daphne or do you pretend to?”

kuroo frowns as he cuts up some cucumbers. “why wouldn’t i like them? i like the way they make you happy”

“i think amara only pretend to like me” 

kuroo makes another mental note to consider transferring her to a new school. after a final slice, he puts the diced up cucumbers onto a small plate and grabs nearby spices. 

“maybe amara isn’t meant to be friends with you. sometimes, peoples’ personalities just don’t match up.” 

sumi sighs and slumps her shoulders. “i wish you can go to school with me instead of work” 

“i wish i can too” he laughs. “punkin, dinner’s ready. wash up” 

“ooh” sumi quickly sits up and dashes over to the kitchen sink step stool. “but you said you wouldn’t cook for me...?” 

“i can’t leave ya hungry,” he tells her. “besides, i’m your friend” 

“and my daddy,” she quips back. she turns on the sink and scrubs her hands with soap. “but not fried rice.” 

“mm, i’m not fried rice,” kuroo restates with a smile. “...do you like going to school?” 

“it’s fun sometimes, so. i guess.” sumi steps off of her step stool and happily bounces over to the dinner table. 

~~~

the night concludes with them eating dinner, kuroo asking more questions about school and buddy’s blue spot, sumi happily eating popsicle for dessert

[jesslockwood]

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end 

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films. 

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects. 

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out. 

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe… 

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was. 

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig. 

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on. 

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you. 

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos. 

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line. 

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!” 

“Have you seen him in Uncharted?  We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op. 

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink. 

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side. 

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask. 

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment. 

 He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you. 

-

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.  

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’  I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight. 

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

-

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea. 

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic. 

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one,  so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning. 

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter. 

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement. 

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood. 

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day. 

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

-

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat. 

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line. 

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar. 

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh. 

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-” 

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up. 

You laugh at that. 

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard. 

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business. 

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around. 

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

-

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back. 

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks. 

  You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie. 

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27