#lets hope this period of hating my art ends SOON people

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

Sinners. (Stalker!San x You)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Warning(s): Semi Non-Con, sadism, masochism, fear kink, hair play, head shaving, complete submission, humiliation, degradation, anal, camera play, piercing, denial, chastity, Psycho!San, twisted and dark fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. You've been warned. This isn't for everyone. It is purely fiction and doesn't reflect any individual's behavior nor does it encourage it.

It was early in the morning and she was about to go to college in an hour. But instead of running around having breakfast, getting ready and making sure she had her assignments ready, Y/n was standing in front of her mirror, eyes closed as she touched her pussy and touched an electric razor to her head, imagining what it'd feel like if it was on and an imaginary 'Master' was forcefully shearing her. Like a sheep. "Ahh... Master… please..." The girl let a whimper fall from her lips, having no idea that the curtains of her room were open and someone could watch her through the window.

"Fuck…" The man standing outside, behind the PCO booth on the sidewalk outside Y/n's apartment complex whispered to himself, feeling his jeans tighten. Taking a picture of the girl before switching it to video mode, planning to send her the photo later. It had been a while now. Maybe a bit more than a while. He was ready and sure now, unable to wait anymore.

San had to have Y/n now.

He had to claim her rightfully his. Or, he felt like he'd lose his mind now. Just watching the pretty girl wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to touch her, feel her, tell her, that he knew… He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made herself look in front of the people that knew her. That she was actually a hormonal little dirty girl. And whilst nobody knew that nasty side of her, he did. The thought made the man feel powerful. In control. Like he had a claim over Y/n.

There was no way in hell that she wasn't made for him.

Y/n got done with masturbating and packed up before going to college, having no idea that she had a stalker. The girl spent her usual regular day at college, having no idea of the storm that was coming.

.

San knew Y/n were in class and that’s exactly when he wanted to send her the photo he took. A sick smirk made its way on his face and he took his phone out, sending it with the caption, 'having fun there?' He knew where she sat, a lone desk by one of the windows in this classroom, the spot he was standing in providing him a clear view of her face. Yes. The man had all the information he could gather about her memorized by heart.

Y/n was drifting off when she suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, peeking at the Professor sneakily, the girl took it out and unlocked it only to choke on her breath before starting to cough, making some heads turn which caused her to put the device in her hand away to prevent it getting seized. Her blood ran cold and skin paled.

What the fuck just happened?!

San patiently waited for the female to exit her college, her being earlier than the usual time today, however. The man grinned deviously as he texted her again once she passed by him in a hurry, his taller figure getting up to follow her.

'Will you give that show again? Would you like someone to shave your hair off? That’s what gets you off right?' It shamelessly read, making her tremble.

Y/n started to rush towards her house as she didn't live too far away from her college, not having to use any vehicle because it was barely a 10 minute walk as she nervously glanced around. She was quite twisted herself. And so, a dark part of her mind thought... things, making her start to shudder as tears welled up in self hatred. She hated the soft pounds in her southern region, overpowering the thump of her heart ringing in her ears as she reached the building and rushed in.

'What's the rush for, Princess? Are you so eager to touch yourself again? Tsk. Are you horny? Knowing someone is watching you?' San was absolutely sick in the head. Chuckling at his own text, he bit his lip and hit send.

Y/n was shaking as she read the message. Yes. In her fantasies this was… thrilling, exciting, pussy throbbing and she'd like to play like this with her top but… a legit stalker? She wasn't THAT fucked. Or so the girl belived, at least. Rushing to the curtains after locking the front door, the girl drew them while trying to catch someone's glance outside but no luck.

San had mastered the art of hiding as he watched her. It wasn't like this was new or anything.

Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't even call the cops! What would the girl show them as evidence?! She didn't want to tell or show them this! Her filthiest desire.

The 21 year old was having a mental breakdown! All her savings were in this college. She could not run away, didn't have any friends because Y/n was a foreigner and the people of this country were rather hostile to any outsiders. Couldn't go back home because she had run away from there, which was a hell in itself, when she had received her acceptance letter.

'Aww come on now!' Her phone pinged again, and then again. 'You can’t keep the fun all to yourself!'

The realisation felt like a bucket of ice cold water everytime she was reminded of it. The person had seen her masturbating and that to the fucking… razor! They knew her fantasies and at that the darkest ones! She couldn't even text them back asking him who it was! The girl was simply too embarrassed to! What if it were someone she knew in her college or around the apartment complex!

It was a dark day and it started raining. Y/n felt tears streaming down her face as her heart beat never slowed down, more terror filling her as everything outside got dark and thunder struck.

Maybe she should call the cops... No one else would help a foreigner… She just knew it. Nobody liked college students especially that lived alone because they were 'reckless' and often lied to get a good laugh out of the elders with their friends. So no one really opened their door for a student they didn't know personally.

But what would she tell the cops?! They ask for evidence!

Meanwhile, San stood on the spot he had found. Even if it was literally the end of the world, he'd still be there. Always. She was his and he had to have her all to himself. There was no other way. The man wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it but he’ll find a way.

.

Y/n called the cops at last when she started suspecting someone's presence outside her apartment. Or window… she wasn't sure anymore. And the loud thunder outside didn't help her situation. Dialing the police the scared girl told them she was afraid someone was stalking her and needed an officer for security right now. i Telling them about the texts and deciding to leave the nasty parts out, she sighed in somewhat relief when they informed that they will send an officer on the way. The student grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the couch, taking huge gulps while trying to calm down.

Finally.

It only took some minutes before there was a knock on the door. A nervous Y/n looked through the peep hole to only cry out in relief when she saw the uniform through it. "Oh! Thank God, officer! Thank you so much! You're here!" She  was overjoyed. "Thank you! I- I am so scared!" A weak sob left her. "Please come in!"

The officer looked around the house, nodding. "I need you to calm down, miss. Tell me everything. We are here with you." His tone was professional. His name plate read 'Park Seonghwa'.

"I- I have a stalker! I don't know how!" Y/n quickly locked the door after he stepped in. "Not many people like me because I am a foreigner! I don't know if it's someone from college troubling me o- on purpose or what... B- But they've been sending me some really p- personal stuff..." She looked up at him innocently, scared.

The dark haired man hummed and nodded. "Do you maybe know the number? Have you noticed any suspicious activity around you before? Is there someone who has a motive to do this?"

"N- No... I got the first text today... I- I am really scared... I've got no one here... W- What do I do?" She told him all of it, hoping that the culprit he caught as soon as possible so she could go back to her life where she was a nobody. No one knew her and she was just another face among many others..

"Alright. We’ll keep a close eye on you. Within this period, try not to hang out too much, yeah? It is best to come directly home after college. And call us on this number if you suspect anything." He wrote a number on a paper and handed it to the shaky girl.

"Oh... Alright officer... thank you..." She saved the number gladly. And since he was supposed to stay with her to ensure the girl's safety, they sat down and Y/n awkwardly turned the TV on. Oh she never had a guy in her apartment before.

.

After getting used to the feeling of safety, Y/n got up after a while, finally having calmed down as she felt hungry. Cooking some dinner for two people, she went and handed the officer one of the two plates. "You've been here since evening... Please eat." She politely smiled, softly blushing from the embarrassment. The girl was too soft, continuously thanking him like it wasn't his job.

"You're a true hero..." She giggled and sat on the other couch, totally not thinking about how handsome he was. Before a sigh left her as she was reminded of the situation. "Officer... What will happen to my stalker when you catch him...?" He knew her darkest secrets. "I am really afraid... They mentioned some... things... very private... things..." The girl finally confessed.

“Mind telling me those things, miss? It will help us with his punishment. The more detail, the better” he placed his plate down, grabbing his pen and notepad.

"O- Officer... I uh..." Y/n gulped. "I- I can't..." She felt ashamed

“Why not? We should know so we can sentence him longer in the court. This is not okay. And you’re a foreigner. So it may also come under bullying.” His tone was soft and assuring as he looked at her, concerned.

It took the student a bit of persuasion before she spoke, hanging her head low and fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I... I was being naughty with myself... A- And they took p- pictures from my window... A- And taunted me about my... p- preferences, s- sir..." She put her own plate on the table now.

The man only hummed, nodding in an understanding manner. “That’s such a disgusting thing for him to do…” Before the man continued. “You shouldn’t do those nasty things while your windows are open either, Miss… You never know who will be watching.”

Y/n was blushing hard as her cheeks felt extremely hot. "I am sorry, s- sir... I won't do it again..." She couldn’t help but reply obediently. Her sub side sometimes got the best of her.

Besides… The officer was so handsome... It wasn’t helping her situation here.

.

A few hours later when it was bedtime and Y/n went to sleep in her room after taking care of her assignments and on the work she missed at school today, the officer got comfy on the couch. He was going to be here until tomorrow morning. Unless something happened. The girl was so tired she fell asleep easily, feeling protected and warm despite the terrible weather outside.

It was really late at night when Y/n woke up to a phone call.. "Hello?" It was the police, informing her that the officer that had been sent to her house had a bad ‘accident’ on the way and whether she still needed an officer.

The girl’s eyebrows at first in confusion before it sunk in and her blood ran cold as the phone fell from her shaking hands. At the same time she felt someone next to her. On the fucking bed. Pure terror filled her and she slowly turned to look at the relaxed figure dressed in the uniform. A shaky cry left her as she started trembling, literally mortified.

“Tsk... The stupid cops ruined the fun.” His voice was nowhere near that gentle and warm comforting voice now. Instead a low and deep hiss filled with nothing but mock.

.

San's eyebrows were frowned when he saw the cop car pulling up. "Oh no... you did not, Princess." The male smirked and shook his head slowly as he noted that it was only one officer. Moving through the shadows, he pulled out his blade from the pocket of his pants, expertly swirling it around in his hand and toying with it like he usually did. "Now, let’s see why do you need the officer, babygirl" his voice was barley a whisper as he made his way over to the car.

San was always so slick with his movements, catching the non-existent sounds of his figure were barely audible to the human ear. Before the officer could even realise there was someone around, the male had banged his head against one of the entrance walls of the low rent cheap apartment building, dragging him into the darkness with him before stealing his clothes and then dumping his body in the river along his car.

It didn't even take him long. He was fast, accurate in his calculations and confident in his abilities. "Now, to my Princess' rescue" chuckling to himself as he climbed the stairs, pinning the nameplate reading 'Park Seonghwa' on his breast pocket before ringing the bell to her apartment.

.

"The real fun is only starting" San sang as he pinned her down on the bed, holding her wrists tight above her head. "You have no idea how many nights I've watched you touch that bitchy cunt of yours." His hard bulge rubbed against her thigh.

An astonished Y/n was trembling, warm piss suddenly starting to leak out of her in pure terror as her heart threatened to burst out of the skin of her chest. Oh no! Is that what she thought this was?! It took her brain a few moments to understand it as the realisation sunk in like a ton of bricks. "Y- You... You're... You..." She could only whisper, eyes widened to the shape of saucers as an evil grin made its way on his features.

As San felt the bed getting warm, he started laughing at the girl condescendingly. "Look at you! Pissing yourself like a baby! How pathetic and disgusting! Did you really think anyone would help you, tsk?" He loved how she was shaking, the glow of her skin caused by the little droplets of sweat, her heartbeat that he could literally feel and the terror in her eyes.

Y/n started crying, the piss not stopping as it pooled inside her thighs. "Y- You're... You're the... stalker…" She whispered, still in disbelief as to how he managed that. "H- How did... How did you..." Oh God. Oh no.

The storm outside was so loud that screaming for help would just be in vain. It was so late no one would even be up...

"Baby, just like you said… I’m the stalker… I know everything about you…" His tone was sensual as he started kissing up the soft skin of her neck, moaning from how soft and delicate it felt. "Fuck! Your skin is even softer than i- it looks…" San felt himself twitch.

The girl was trembling as she slowly put it all together, staring at the ceiling as a feeling of despair and hopelessness filled her. "Y- You were p- pretending a- all this time! You're not the officer!" Adrenaline filled her as she kneed his cock, swiftly turning on her stomach and crawling off the bed before rushing out of the room. Nobody could hear the commotion. It was too loud outside.

"FUCK! YOU BITCH!" San yelled before laughing loudly. He loved this. Finally something enjoyable in his once lone and bland life. Holding his crotch, the male after her to catch the girl before she got away, catching her easily. "Where do you think you’re going?!" A smack landed on her face as punishment for what she did.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! Y- YOU CREEPY BASTARD!" Oh she would be getting a lot of beating for this! "H- HOW DARE YOU STALK ME A- AND THEN ENTER MY HOUSE! ILL R- REPORT YOU!" As she reached out to my table to hit him with something, her hand so conveniently ended up grabbing the razor and swung it back, going to hit him with it on the head.

San laughed tauntingly and caught her arm before she could hit him and shook his head, sighing. "Now now, isn’t this the razor you were holding when you played with that tiny little cunt of yours?" The shiny object dangled in his hand.

"P- PLEASE!" She remembered the text he'd sent her. "PLEASE! I- I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!" Y/n had no idea what to say.

"Aww sweetie…" His words were soft. Almost. "Keep your begs for the time when I'll be pounding that dirty little pussy of yours." San held her hands above her head. "You like to be owned, huh? You like to serve your Master and show everyone how much of an obedient little whore you are?"

Y/n was crying harder now, afraid because she didn't know what was going to happen. "N- No! Please no! It's not true! P- Please just let me go! I- I don't want to!" Oh but she had a being kidnapped and raped fantasy. She loved the thought of someone dangerous, like San, terrifying her and fucking her, making her into his cockwhore. And he knew it. She wanted it all. The girl loved the fear and force. But all of it actually happening was something she'd never thought of. "Please! Let me go!" How could it? A whole fantasy becoming true?

"Oh please, my little slut! Let’s not fool ourselves here. I know you love the thrill of this, I know you LOVE getting used like a worthless little toy and I will give you what you want. You can try to resist me all you want but you’ll never get away from me. You're mine. I'll always catch you. You're mine and belong with me." Her eyes were on the razor as she kept thinking about the text he'd sent.

Y/n tried to reach out of his iron strong hold and snatch the razor from him. "Nu-uh…" San sang out as he held the object above him. "What if I shaved your head while I’m destroying that slutty pussy, huh? Would you like that you little whore?"

"No! NO! NO PLEASE!" Oh… But she felt wetness trickling down her leg. Oh no.

"My my!" The man chuckled darkly. "What’s this?" He swiped a finger up her bare thigh. "God, you’re such a pathetic whore, trying to fool yourself by saying no but I know you’re enjoying this. How stupid and dumb. Stupid slut!" His free hand smacked her face before grabbing her hands again.

"N- No! No! Please stop! This i- isn't what it looks like!" Before she somehow broke free again, this time biting his hand before she managed to reach the door, trying to unlock it but her hands were sweaty and cold, fingers literally frozen as she struggled to open the locks, cursing when they kept slipping against the metal.

San pushed Y/n up against the door with the most force he could come up with and pounced himself on her, letting his hard cock feel up her ass. "Don’t fight it anymore." And with that, he pulled her pj shorts down and turned her around before spreading her legs and pushed her up against the door, unclothing his cock and aligning his tip against her vagina before forcefully thrusting into her without warning before moaning loudly, throwing his head back. "God! Such a tight little nasty cunt!" San moaned and kissed along her neck, feeling like he'd go crazy from how delicate and nice her skin tasted.

The girl moaned loudly in pain, a warm stream of blood trickling down the man's monster cock. "O- Oh my God!" A sick part of her wondered if he would also shave her head and face... "I- IT BURNS!" A scream tumbled out of her lips.

"Oh… You were a virgin? Such a nasty little thing. Everyone thinks you’re an innocent little girl but in reality, you’re just a needy little bitch! Needy for cock! All the time!" He picked her up and carried the girl back to her room while still keeping his cock in her before plugging the razor in. "Come here!"

Oh yes. Oh no! Oh… She was having a battle with herself. Did she want this or did she not want this?! "PLEASE... S- SIR..."  Please yes or please no...? She didn't even know what was happening anymore. This was fucking crazy. Her stalker who had done God knows what to the cop and had entered her house after watching her for who knew how long. The stalker that had a private photo of her and she didn't even know how many other materials. And now was on top of her like this...

"Please what, babydoll?" San pulled her in and kissed the soft trembling lips roughly, loving how good she tasted and felt.

Y/n cried against his lips, the man's huge cock still in her wet and tight walls. "I- I am scared! P- People will laugh!" Was that the only thing she cared about?

"So you want me to, but scared people will laugh?" San smirked while pushing his hips back and forth, moaning with each thrust. "Let them laugh, that will turn you on even more because you love getting humiliated. I know you too well, baby.”

Y/n had faced such rejection and hostility her whole life from different people she had trusted with her safety from time to time… this was driving her crazy. Her messy emotions got the best of her at the end of it. Her breaths were heavy. "Y- You're right... You know me so well..." She started speaking his language. "Y- You want me? O- Or you'll leave me too?" This was wrong; sick.

“No. I am staying by your side and you’re staying by me. I’ve wanted you for so long... you have no idea.” He groaned at how good she felt, biting back the whimpers threatening to fall out of his lips from the pleasure. “You have no idea just how many nights I have jerked off thinking it was your tiny little pussy, hugging my cock as you moaned and begged me for more, slut.”

The girl blushed, feeling like she was dreaming. This felt perfect… at least to her troubled mind. "You're crazy... You're scary... You made me piss myself out of pure…” She whispered slowly, a small smile making its way on her lips. “...P- Please own me... P- Please shave me... my head and face... make me look like a dumb slut... s- sir... Your dumb slut..." Her shaky hand turned the razor on for him, pussy suddenly clenching around him as she finally acknowledged the pleasure it was receiving, a soft moan escaping her.

“Mmm... that’s my good slut” San hummed and praised, taking the now on machine and placing it against her hairline before running it down the top of her head, both of them moaning, Y/n from the feeling and San from the sight of the sight of now small bristles between her locks as his hips pushed in and out even faster.

The man now shaved off another strip from the spot besides the previously shaved one, humming as he remembered something and took the machine to her eyebrows first and pressed it against the skin, feeling himself hit her g-spot as her eyes rolled to the top of her head, mouth falling open as the male erased the hair above her eyes.

"Yes, s- sir! Please make me your good slut! I- I love you! I'll never leave you! Please never leave me, Master!" She started crying out of joy, kissing his hands as her unstable emotions made her feel absolute joy. He had accepted her as she truly was. In her darkest form. “Please write funny things o- on my skinhead when you’re done. I am a dumb whore!” To her, there wasn’t a man more great than him.

“Fuck yes… That you are.” San grunted as he started to shear the rest of her long locks like one would to a sheep. “You are my dumb little slut who will do nothing but serve her Master from now on!” His free hand landed a smack on her head which was showing up more and more, nothing but thin stubble covering the skin.

"Yes I will, Master! Please! Please treat me like trash!" Y/n clenched around him, near to cumming. “Trash that was born to take your cock! You're so good to me! I wish you'd snuck in my house this morning and raped me right there! I wish you'd have shaved my head and forced me to go to college like that! It would have been a pleasure to be humiliated like that and by you!” She was literally crying out of pleasure

“Oh..” The man chuckled while panting. “I will force you to go like this baby, don’t worry.” He promised as he snapped his hips even faster, feeling himself getting close from the sight and all her filthy confessions. “And I will wake you up by fucking you every morning, making you a mess and sending you off to college like that.” It was done, the only hair on the girl’s head slight messy stubble that he’d remove with a hand razor later to reveal the skin underneath.

"Yes, please! Please always only force me and rape me! Please keep me bald! Keep me at your feet! Please feed me your piss and cum! I want to be your hand and footrest! I want to be an object for you to fuck! A bitch for you to breed! Your little animal! I JUST WANT TO BE YOURS! I WANT TO BE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR FEET!" She was sobbing as she started cumming hard, her tiny body spasming in pleasure while holding one of San's hands because it was her first time cumming from sex.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him from the intensity of it and kissed him while he played with her tits, pinching her nipples painfully as he kissed the girl back and let her ride out her high before pulling out. “On your knees!” San kept pumped himself until he came all over the girl’s pretty face and mouth. “That’s my good little cumdumpster.”

She smiled and started to kiss his cock and hands in respect, then his balls. Y/n really had truly submitted. "You're perfect, Master! Where have you been all my life?!" A pout made its way on her lips as she whined, hugging his leg and kissing it, not daring to go further up out of fear.

San was satisfied with her behavior. “I’m here now baby… And I am never leaving.” He kissed the younger one and slapped her ass lightly after helping her get up. “Lets get cleaned, doll.”

"Master, I wanna drink your piss." She shamelessly told him, not standing up, taking his cum off her face with her hand and greedily sucking at it. "A- And I wanna kiss your feet!" She was way too eager for this.

The man chuckled at her request. “You want to drink my piss? Then open up, my whore.” San held his cock over her mouth before putting pressure on his bladder, whimpering before the hot stream hit her lips.

Y/n was obediently on her knees drinking all of it after cringing at the taste a little, moaning happily. It was her first time drinking anyone's piss. She was in heaven. She finally had an owner! The girl made sure not one drop went to waste. "Thank you so much, Master! It is amazing!" The younger one stopped drinking and let his piss wet her face before starting to kiss his feet, fully in her subspace.

“You’re such an obedient little girl.” San praised, not being able to hold back the smile as he watched her, never having imagined her willingly being like this for him in such a short time period. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. “Good girl.” He cooed patting her head.

Y/n desperately kissed his hand and grabbed it, starting to cry. "M- Master... everyone leaves me... P- Please don't leave me... I- I'll die!" She almost promised him, nothing short of a maniac. Maybe she was even more twisted than San, in a way

“I’ll never leave you, you’re mine and everyone will know that.” Cupping her cheeks, he passionately kissed her, already making plans in his head about how he will modify all of her features as his perfect little pet.

The girl giggled, sucking at his lips greedily. "Master! Your piss was on my face!" She tried to get it off. "Give it back! Ish mine!" Huffing, she lapped at his piss like a needy little bitch.

San chuckled from her antics and swiped his fingers on the pretty face before holding them up against her lips. “Open up…” He let her suck on the piss covering his fingers. “Fuck... you’re so perfect for me.”

Holding his arm like a child, Y/n started sucking on his fingers greedily, smiling. "Thank you, Master!" Before she made his fingers hit the back of her throat, making herself gag and loving it all. "Mashter Mashter! Whatsh your name?" The girl questioned while deep throating his fingers.

“It’s San, baby.” The man replied with a smile, watching her choke on his fingers, her warm drool trickling down his long fingers.

"Shan! Ish sho pretty! I am Y/n!" Letting go of his hand, she hugged him which was returned with a chuckle.

“I know, babygirl.”

"M- Mashter... I- I dunno why b- but... I- I shaw a video too a- and I want you to s- shove my shaved hair u- up my assh and i- in my mouth... a- and take picturesh... Hehe I am sho naughty!" His eyebrows raised as she hid in his chest, a smirk forming on his lips.

San patted her messily shaved head. “Yes. You are, baby. You’re fucking naughty but okay. Daddy is here to help his little girl with all her little disgusting whore fantasies.”

"Y- You wanna?" Before she chirped again. "Mashter I want to be owned like an object a-nd like an animal! I wanna be like a p- piggy! A- And I want you to b- beat me and whip me e- everywhere a- and I wanna be bruished! A- And I want to be raped all the time!" She was too fucking sick and twisted but now that she wasn’t afraid of being judged, she was letting all that was locked deep down out.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll treat you like one, baby.” San said before chuckling to himself, still in disbelief of just how fucked up she really was.

"A- And I want you to fuck my bummie and not let me cum for monthsh! I wanna be forshed to wear chashtity! I want you to make me cry and beg but you don't give in and only torture me more!" She told him. "Pleashe alwaysh shlap me and my head!"

“Fuck... you’re so naughty baby… I love it.” San almost moaned from the sight before getting a chunk of her shaved hair and shoved it in her mouth before getting his phone and taking pics of her all stuffed and messily bald like that.

The twisted girl smiled in the pictures and eagerly nodded, turning her fat ass in front of him now. "Please put hair in assh too!" She struggled to speak, smiling and posing for all of the pictures.

San actually wanted to take a video of him shoving hair up her ass and so that was what he simply did, laughing. “Look at this disgusting little dumb cock whore! So slutty and needy! Loving to be humiliated and looked like a dumb fucktoy by her owner!” He spat on her.

"Yesh I am! Yesh I am!" Y/n spoke with difficulty, showing her stuffed face and head too, arching her back, imagining herself a beauty goddess of her own kind. "My lobely mashter shaved me! And ish gonna treat me like hish trash and look! I habe hair up my assh! And in my fashe! I've got no eyebrowsh!"

“My good little slave… All mine… So submissive” San praised, kicking her ass in the camera and chuckling at her squeak, watching her clench the hair up when her pucker winked. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?” Lifting her face, he spat on her forehead.

"I ammmm~" she whined, face red before starting to try to rub her cunt against the floor.

“Look at her trying to desperately rub her slutty cunts on the floor…” He filmed it all. Fuck. He loved seeing Y/n all dirty and submissive for him.

Drool was dripping down her chin and boobs. "Yesh Mashter! O- Onwy fow yoooouuu~" a needy whimper left her.

“Mmm... yes, only for me” San spoke and slapped her hard which the girl loved, getting even more wet and kissing his hands. "I- I... cum pleashe..." She whimpered again, loving the control she was in.

“No... get up.” San warned sternly. “You’re not allowed to cum, you’re never allowed to cum.”

"B- But... M- Mashter..." The girl pouted and whined, having forgotten that she was the one that told him that she wanted him to never let her cum and torture her like that.

“Are you talking back to your Master?” Raising an eyebrow, he gripped her chin before slapping her, making sure it was all being recorded so he could fuck her to it later.

Her pussy tingled. “N- No! No Mashtew owwiieee…” The hair in her ass and mouth tickled humiliatingly.

"That’s what I thought" San husked and threw the phone on the bed before pushing her on the carpet again. "Tell me when you’re close."

"M- Mashtewwww" Y/n started crying like a little baby, shaking and dropping the hair from her mouth because it was getting hard to breathe.

"Did I say you could drop the hair?!" The man growled darkly before pushing the hair back in. "Breathe through your nose, dumb slut!"

The girl let out a cry, trembling and sobbing as she nodded. He was rough. It was making her cry. But she also loved it and felt wet. "Yesh!" She loved being at Master's mercy.

"Good girl." He said pushing her down on the carpet more. "Rub yourself nice and hard slut." Y/n started rubbing herself as he ordered, feeling the carpet burn against her pussy but she couldn't help but love it, biting her bottom lip through her stuffed mouth. Oh… She loved it so much. The girl wanted it to bleed almost… Reaching out to hold his hand, the girl spoke. "You're sho perfect... I wish I'd m- met you when I wash l- little..."

"I wish that too baby, fuck... I’d fuck you every night while your parents were peacefully sleeping in the next room…"

"Y- You'd fuck me when I wash a little baby?" This was fucking revolting and twisted. They were both utterly sick. Y/n kept moaning loudly and getting wetter, rubbing harder and harder. "Y- Your fat cock i- in my toothlessh mouth... AHHH... I wouldn't need miwk... You'd have fed me your Mashtew milk fwom youw cock..."

"Fuck yes!" He growled as he felt himself getting hard. "Yes baby… I'd feed you my cum every day. You'd have grown up getting your nutrients from it, eh?"

"Daddy... Daddy... You'd be my Daddy? But inshtead of miwk you'd feed me youw cum evewyday? Ish the besht miwk!" She was very close and her eyes fluttered shut when he started playing with her tits and pinched her nipples before pulling at them. "Then I'd say I grew up drinking Mashtew's cock miwk! Hehehe!" The girl was too far gone.

"God, yes! You’re such a filthy and sick whore!" San knew she were close so he pulled her up. "No cumming!" It made the girl whine loudly and she fell on her face.

"Mashtewwwwww!" Before she curled in his feet, calming down a little when he didn't give in and ripped her pussy away from the carpet. "M- Mashtew... p- pleashe may I wemove haiw now...?" It was getting stuck to her mouth.

"Yes. You may, my little cum rag." The male wanted to use her mouth and feed her his cum so he allowed.

Y/n dropped it and quickly cleaned her tongue and inside of the cheeks with her tiny hands. "Bleg... hehe~" she curled in his waist, rubbing her tiny head against his chest.

"Good girl~" he patted her head before pushing her back in position. "Now use that mouth good baby…" San pushed his cock down her narrow throat, loving how tight and warm she was, making her gag from the rush of it in an instant.

The girl gagged but enjoyed it, loving it all. She quickly started sucking his cock, grazing her teeth against it and swirling her tongue. Y/n had watched all that porn for a reason. Kissing his balls, she sucked on them, whimpering from how his private hair tickled her nose.

"Fuck! look at you! Sucking on master’s cock like a starved bitch!" He slapped her again, feeling his shape against the skin of her cheeks. "You love it, don’t you?!"

"Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!" She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down his shaft, sucking and whining as San rubbed the top of his foot against her pussy, smacking her bald head before pushing his cock all the way down her throat, tightly clasping the back of her head.

The man groaned loudly as he twitched in the soft walls of her throat, washing her throat with his hot semen before cleaning her up and finally shaving her head fully until there was nothing but glossy skin left before they went to bed.

"I have shchool tomorrow... Mashter do you go to shchool?" Y/n yawned as she snuggled into San's built chest, whimpering and smiling whenever the realisation of who he was hit her.

She loved being owned.

"No I don't. I will be right here when you come back, my pretty slut." San said while kissing her softly like he hadn't unleashed his sadistic likes on her.

"Why don't you go to school?" She suddenly pouted. "Then how will Mashter have a career?! You'll be poow! I dun wan poow Mashtew!" Y/n huffed brattily. She didn't really care about that, only wanting to see his response because she loved to piss off her top.

"You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart." The male gritted out. "You’re stuck with me forever. If I am living on the streets, you’re living with me."

She opened her mouth to brat but the bell rang. Rushing to the door, Y/n opened it to reveal a police officer. "Oh... hi..." The officer smiled a bit at her and asked the girl if she still needed an officer and why she had hung up when they called. "O- Oh no officer... I was just being paranoid... It wasn't anyone..." Y/n's cheeks blushed because she could see the officer was staring at her shiny bald head and eyebrows. Feeling herself getting wet as humiliation made her blush, Y/n found herself wondering what it'd feel like if he smacked her on her head. The girl's nipples got hard.

But oh... she couldn't cum!

"Okay then, be careful, Miss." He tipped her hat, nodding a little before walking off.

Y/n felt so wet. "Have a good night, officer!" A giggle left her as the man disappeared, starting to rub herself against the door up and down, running her hand against her head.

"Now, what was that?!" San deeply spoke, pushing the girl against the door, making her head hit against it embarrassingly. "Did you forget who alone can make you wet?!" The male yelled before slapping her. "You sick little exhibition loving whore! Not even you can do what you like to yourself! You're all mine! Only I can do whatever I please to your whore body!"

"Yes... You... You sir!" Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands above her head, lowering it for him to slap. "Please hit my head... Ugh... fuck me up... I want my head to be bruised... Ugh fuck! I am so wet... Please beat me!"

"What a disgusting little trash!" The man laughed, slapping her head this time. "You love people making fun of you, huh?"

"Yes I do! Yes I do!" She whined. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make fun of me! Humiliate me! Hit me and bruise me! Make fun of me! Humiliate and degrade me! I want my whole college to laugh at me!" A loud cry left her.

"Let’s get you bruised up, then." San decided and started slapping the girl's tiny head and face until it was all red and sore. Y/n was crying by the time he was done, literally sobbing as she just fell on her knees and knocked out of exhaustion, her owner carrying her to the bed and then laying next to her knocked out form.

"Good night, my love." The male kissed her soft and red cheek before falling asleep too, holding her fragile body close to his, his slumber calm and satisfying today after so long.

.

Y/n stirred as she felt her pussy being invaded the next morning, making her stir as she felt lips upon her own and fingers pinching her nipples as her other boob was being groaped, her pussy expanding and sucking in a huge cock. San's huge cock. "M- Master~!" She whispered out when her eyes flew open and she was met with San's face. "W- What… s- so early?!"

"I promised you I'd wake you by fucking you every morning, didn't I, my slut?" He grinned and attacked her lips, eliciting an excited gigglish moan out of her as he started to fuck her fast and rough, pushing his balls in all the way.

“Y- Yes! Yes! F- Fuck!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the realisation that he had been fucking her in her sleep before she woke up, feeling him twitch inside her. “M- Master! I- I… c- cum…” Y/n tried to speak, her back arching from the pleasure of him biting on her nipples before smacking her bald head softly.

“Little breeding whores don’t get to cum, baby. They just take cock and let Master use them like the cum rags that they are.” San’s cock slammed in and out of her pussy, his hand gripping her neck for support when she clenched around him. “Fuck! So tight!”

Tears welled up in her eyes as her face got red from how rough his thrusts were, how much her clit was burning for stimulation, how much her ovaries hurt to cum. “Look at this hairless little whore! Unable to even breathe without my permission let alone cum!” He spat in her mouth before turning her around and pushing up her ass, chuckling when she whined out.

“Sorry, slut. Little whores don’t get what they want around here and only please Master as they are supposed to.” Grabbing a sharpie, San started writing on her head whilst choking her with one hand, pounding her harder and harder up her ass. “Hurry up and please your Master well so we can go to an important place before you go to school.”

‘I am a bald little nasty slut. Please hit my head. I love it.’ Was written on the back of her head as the man laughed, deciding to not tell her what he’d done just yet, waiting for her to find out later when the people on campus would be warming that cueball up.

.

Y/n was whimpering as San waved at her and she shakily walked inside her college with a bald head, wearing nothing inside her skirt as she sneakily pushed the slipping ass plug back inside her cum filled ass. Lowering her bald head now that she was outside and people were staring at her new look, the girl gulped and felt herself squeezing her legs when some girl giggled at her.

Fuck… She couldn’t help but bite her lip, loving the humiliation as her cheeks felt hot.

Master had gotten her pussy, septum and nipples pierced before walking her to college. He was going to buy a special leash for that that was going to be passed through all her piercings to ensure she was in his control at all times.

Her train of thoughts was broken when a smack landed on her head by a guy passing by before he chuckled at her shocked expression. Before the girl could question him, she received a text by San. A picture message. Of what was written on the back of her head.

Widening her eyes, Y/n gasped and her hand automatically grazed against her head. No wonder the piercing lady had lightly smacked it before Master and she had laughed at the girl. “N- No… you didn’t…” She whispered in shock before one of her ‘friends’ smacked her head, making it jerk forwards.

“Cute look, Y/n.” Before she walked off to class, the people passing by gave her looks and talked about her.

Fuck… She squeezed her thighs in utter humiliation as the wind blew, making her desperately try to keep her skirt down as wetness trickled down her thigh. The girl wasn’t allowed to touch herself and not cumming was one of the rules now upon Master’s order and her foolish confession. She had a whole day to last before getting home and begging him to let her earn it.

Her ass stuffed, body owned, everyone silently chuckling at her humiliating look and getting smacks to the head like that wasn’t going to help.

“Oh, Master…” She whined to herself in despair. “What have you done?”

.

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

Invective Pain

Alpha Bakugou x F!Omega Reader

Words: 2.4k

Requested by: @goatsenpaiultimate

Hehe, sorry for the wait you guys. It’s been a rough few weeks for me. Also, the song ‘Butterfly’s Repose’ by Zabawa is amazing to listen to while you read this💜

Warnings: harsh language, Bakugou being an asshole, angst

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Alpha, please.”

“I said, get off. What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been too clingy,” you prove his point and cling to his arm.

“I miss you,” you try to nuzzle his neck so he can scent you. With your wolf quirk, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from Bakugou for long periods of time. Your instincts were on hyperdrive, always wanting him within your reach so you knew he was safe.

“Don’t you understand what ‘no’ means?” Bakugou tenses up as you continue trying to climb his body. Due to his inability to express himself, he’s still not used to your affections.

“I can’t help it,” you ruffle your tail to prove your point.

“Well, try harder to help it.”

“But, alpha-“

“No, I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. As soon as I come home, you want to climb all over me. I can’t even take a fucking shower,” you hunch into yourself as you take a step away from him. Looking back on it, he did have a point. You could stand to at least allow him a few moments to himself before you bombard him. But, it’s just hard on you.

Because of your quirk, you’ve always been the type to cling to people and try to protect them. You miss your parents because you considered them to be your pack but, that all changed when you met Bakugou. After a few months of dating, you moved in with Bakugou (your inner Omega told you she’d love to start her own pack with him). However, it’s been a difficult transition.

Bakugou normally takes your clinginess in stride but, it’s been hard for him lately. All he wants to do is take you underneath him and nuzzle you and treat you like a queen. But, he’s been dealing with this case. It’s been stressing him out and he’s never been the type to deal with stress in a correct way.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, I- FUCK! Omega. I just can’t keep doing this. You’re fucking annoying. This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have moved in together,” his words stung in your mind like a swarm of hornets, making you yelp in your mind. Although, no one would ever be able to tell your inner turmoil from the calm look on your face. Why does he have to tear you down with his words? What does he gain from your dissociation? Does it bring him satisfaction to win the argument? Even at the expense of your heart? The same heart he swore to protect when he chose you as a mate.

“I’m sorry,” and you don’t understand why. You just stand there with a blank expression, no longer feeling that your heart is safe in his hands. And, that is worse than losing an argument the two of you have.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. I’m tired of you sticking to my fucking side like a toddler. You’re always hovering over me. I need space,” you intend to give him all the space he needs. “Selfish extra.”

He doesn’t know what his words do to you as he goes to the room you share, bumping you out of his way. You want to cry, you want to chirp, you want to-to-die; without him-without your alpha- what is there to live for?

Your omega crawls to your heart, shriveling up like a raisin as if your soul has been sucked by a vacuum. You feel your heart drop; the first sign of Omega Depression and you don’t tell Katsuki. How can you?

He made it clear how bothersome you were in his life. You never meant to be a burden to him. All you wanted to do was love him and give him the love he lacked from his teenage years. But, it’s transparent that you’re not wanted by the person your soul has imprinted upon.

You sit on the couch, staring into nothingness. What did you do wrong? What was so wrong with wanting to love him? You feel weak. Maybe if Katsuki had someone stronger, someone who could take his invective words in stride, he’d be happier.

As you wallow in your own pain, Katsuki is upstairs taking a shower. Part of him feels relieved to finally have some space to himself and the other scolds him for what said; he barely remembers what he said to you exactly. All he knows that your face is blank so, he assumes it’s not too bad since you weren’t crying.

He walks out of the shower expecting to see you but, he’s greeted with an empty bed. He figures you just want space to be angry so, he lets you stay downstairs.

‘It’ll be fine tomorrow,’ it won’t. As he dozes off to that thought, you were downstairs stuck in your mind. It's your fault for always forgiving him after he’s verbally ruined you You just thought your love for him outweighed anything he said to you. But, your unconditional love has reached its limit.

You wait till he falls asleep before you break the facade (you still want him to get his sleep so he can wake up healthy tomorrow). You heave and whimper as you curl into a ball on the cold living room floor. You shake from the force of your tears, tears falling like rain in the spring. You’re trying to smile to stop the tears but, your mouth ends up in a horrible grimace as you silently berate yourself. Your hands scrape at your arms, nails taking patches of your skin as a way to distract your mind. You don’t sleep that night; you don’t sleep for any of the nights that follow.

When you hear your alpha’s alarm clock sound, you climb on the couch with your face smooshed to the cushions. Katsuki follows his nightly routine, not even checking to see if you’re okay. He just gets dressed for his patrol and leaves breakfast on the table for you, kissing your hair goodbye before he leaves out the door.

You’re once again crying as you just lay there. You don’t bother to call your job to notify them of your absence. If anything, you just lay there, your tail curled around your body as if it’s protecting you from the world.

You feel useless against your heart because you know you shouldn’t have allowed Bakugou’s temper to get to this point. You had suggested therapy and anger management to him many times but, he was persistent in telling you that he had it under control. You knew he thought seeking therapy was weak (as he thinks most things are weak) but, you just wanted him to think before he spoke.

You can tell that he’s tried to do better for you and you appreciate that but, it’s not enough anymore.

This was the last straw. Not because you still don’t love him but, because you’re now in your Omega’s Depression. It’s a fairly new phenomenon. The doctors warned Omegas and Alphas that their second genders could drive them into a comatose state if the genders were met with unfavorable conditions. Your omega has started the process and you can only hope that Katsuki figures that out before it’s too late.

At first, Bakugou didn’t think anything about your attitude. He just thought you were giving him space (which he hated. It feels weird to him to be alone when he was always with you and he’s too prideful to admit that) however, he knows something is wrong when you start to avoid him.

You don’t talk to him like you use to, you don’t cook his favorite spicy ramen anymore, hell, you don’t even come to bed anymore. It’s like two strangers living in the same house (well, roommates would be more accurate). And, he misses you.

“Why are you sleeping on that shitty couch?” He’s standing above you with his arms folded, head to the side so he can hide his blush. You don’t respond, dried tear stains on your cheeks.

“Not gonna answer? What you’re too good to speak to me?” He squats down to eye-level. His breath fans across your face, the smokey caramel of his scent bringing more tears to your eyes. “Omega?”

You still don’t answer. He takes that as you still being angry about the argument; he also notes the change in your scent.

“Tch,” he walks to the bedroom and comes back with a few blankets so he can make a small hammock beside the couch at your side. He slips into the covers, hand upon your waist so he can feel you. “Goodnight, Omega.”

The next day, you’re still in the same spot on the couch above him. He does his routine, this time spending longer at saying goodbye.

“I’ll be back, Omega. Cuddling wouldn’t be the worse thing when I get home,” you stare blankly.

“And, I put some of your favorite cookies on the table,” still nothing.

“I love you,” nothing. And, that’s how he knows that everything is wrong. He spends the day on patrol, withdrawn from his hero-work. All he can think about is that blank look in your eye, the stillness of your home, the taste of failure on his tongue.

‘I fucked up,’ he sure did.

He comes home and you're still in the same spot. He doesn’t even think you got up to use the bathroom. You’re the first thing he attends to when his boots cross the threshold.

“Omega, you need a bath,” you don’t move so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. Your body is sweating and that stench gets even worse. “Omega, I’m sorry.”

But, sorry doesn’t fix everything. Sorry is nothing when you truly hurt someone. Sorry is when someone feels obligated to correct their wrongs (not because they want to). Sorry is the Black Licorice of apologies.

“Have you gone to work?” No. He knows you haven’t but, he just wants you to talk to him. His alpha cries for his mate yet, she doesn’t respond. “Baby?”

The bath is spent in silence as you sag on him. His hand's card through your (h/c) hair, trying to release some of your tension. It’s such an intimate moment of him caressing your body as though you are a precious work of art. His lips latched onto the mating mark on the side of your neck, reminding you that he cares.

When he gets you out of the tub, he dries you with your favorite fluffy towel. His carmine eyes gaze at you adoringly from your navel, blonde hair resting against your belly. One in a while, he’ll kiss your legs and feet, silently showing how much he truly cares for you.

Night rolls around and you both follow the same routine as before; you’re laying on the couch and he’s laying beside you on the floor. You’re not eating and that terrifies him. Sadly, this goes on for another month. And, Katsuki is growing desperate to have his omega back.

“I allowed my anger to do this to her- to me-to us. And, now, I don’t know if I can help her anymore,” he joined an anger management group (which, coincidentally helped his public image as well) after he realized the argument caused the rift in your relationship.

And, you’re proud of him on the inside, even if you can’t show it. At least he’s trying but, your omega just turns a blind eye to his efforts. You commend Katsuki for not giving up though.

‘It must be hard trying to change and improve for someone and they don’t even acknowledge your existence,’ you do feel bad for him. It seems that your love does outweigh his words.

But, you’re dying. He knows it. You know it. It’s known. He just won’t accept it.

“Omega,” you’re unconscious. He came home from the weekly session to find you unresponsive (well, more unresponsive than what you’ve been). “Omega, fuck-please-I God I, please wake up.”


So, you’re at the hospital now. The antiseptic burns your sensitive nose as you’re propped up on the hospital bed, sheets crinkling under your body. The doctors told Bakugou that you didn’t really have long to live but, he just can’t allow you to go without trying his best to save you.

“Omega, please, look at me,” you look at him but, it’s like you’re not seeing him. Your eyes don’t have the shine they used to. “Omega, please.”

You can’t answer him. What if you said the wrong thing? You were clinging to life by a single strand of fiber, death clinging to your scent. You knew you couldn’t handle it if Katsuki’s words hurt you once more.

“Please, talk to me, yell at me. Hit me. Do anything,” you can’t. Your voice is stuck in your mind. “Get mad. Throw something. Spit on me! Push me away. Shit, anything. Please just please please pleaseeee, fucking, please. PLEASE I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BE WITHOUT YOU. Please stop looking like you want to die.”

“But, I do,” you hope he can understand.

“NO! NO NO! I FUCKING NEED YOU. I LOVE YOU,” he chokes on his words as he gathers your face in his hands. “I’m such a piece of shit. It takes you dying for me to realize how much I love you. But, I do. I love you so much it hurts. I can’t lose you.”

“Wipe your tears,” you brush your thumbs across his cheek to gather his tears. “I’m right here.”

“How can you love me still? Your will to live is fucking weak and it’s my fault! And, I’m sitting here asking you to hold on for me. You don’t even have to speak to me. Just stay here. I promise I’ll stay here with you. You can’t leave me.”

“Bakugou-“

“For fuck's sake, It’s Katsuki to you! I did this to you. I’m so sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for pushing you away when I felt I didn’t deserve your love. I’m sorry for making you feel the pain I felt all these years. I’m sorry for being a shitty alpha,” he cries in your lap as you pat his back. Your omega stores, crooning to help her alpha. You’re not dead; the future may look bleak but, you know it will finally bring you the love you longed for.

————————————————————————-

Tag List💕

@orokayagi @sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess

[fandomsonrequests]

unexpected friend

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: choi san

reader: fem

word count: 5.4k

summary:  fate decided to test this decade long feud between you and choi san

notes: enemies to lovers AU, toxic themes, character death, substance abuse (it’s not explicit) such as alcohol and cigarettes, heavy themes, language, violence 

You had no idea where it started— you just knew that you hated Choi San with every fiber of your being. And unsurprisingly, the feeling is mutual with you.

Maybe it started in kindergarten when he accidentally pushed you to the ground in the game of tag. You got so mad at him, saying that he meant it when he obviously didn’t, calling him stupid because “all boys are stupid.”. Or maybe it started when you knocked over his tower of building blocks as revenge. Or was it when he dipped your pigtails in paint to get back at you? Or maybe the time he spread rumors that you had cooties causing everyone to avoid you like the plague.

Whatever the reason, it spiraled into a childhood rivalry that continued as you grew older. The endless cycle of cat versus dog, taking revenge on one another, followed into grade school, where you reached your horse phase and he reached his gun dam phase. It was inevitable you’d see him again— you both lived in a fairly small town after all.

Petty actions like drawing on the other’s homework turned into stealing each other’s lunches or setting some sort of prank at each other’s seats— whatever your ten-year-old brains could think of. Your screaming matches grew even worse and at one point, you both started throwing punches. The teachers always had to watch you during breaks because eventually, you’d be on top of each other and pulling at each other’s hair.

San had an advantage of course since he took taekwondo, you always ended up as the loser. But in retaliation, you managed to convince your mother to enroll you in some other martial art to protect yourself. And when you won your first little fistfight— you always made sure to lord it over him.

“Hah, you got beat by a little girl! Not so tough now huh potato-head?”

“Shut up horse-face!”

San saw your kindness and charisma towards others as an act. It was your own way of reeling others in to be on your side, gathering some sort of army to help you gang up against him. You on the other hand managed to convince yourself that his cute little dimples and selflessness for others was a facade, You couldn’t believe how many people he’s managed to fool or turn against you. And you’ve always hated him for that. You let it fester as you go through grade school and towards middle school. That hatred you harbored for him was always lit inside you.

Your parents and his were always apologizing to each other during parent-teacher meetings or school events, having to hold you back from jumping on one another. Your dad had given up on the whole thing so he was totally useless; that left you to run to your mother for comfort. Whatever the situation was, at the end of the day, she was always on your side.

“Things will blow over soon. But please, honey, try to stay out of trouble for me?”

So when she died in your junior year of high school, you couldn’t help but feel alone. Your dad had taken to smoking to cope with the loss, marrying a woman who was in love with alcohol while bringing her two hellish twin daughters with her into your home. Things grew miserable for you at home; your dad became a pathetic pushover, letting his new wife run the household. That made you angry— how could he get over your mother so easily? How could he let himself get walked over like that? How could he ignore the way your older step-sisters trampled all over you?

How could he let all this happen?

San’s endless taunting at school didn’t help either. His harmless pranks grew worse as time passed: spray-painting some nasty words on your locker, or setting a bucket of paint on top of the gym doors since you’re always the last one to head out. You’d heed your mother’s words, always doing your best to ignore him. For a while, it had worked and he pestered you less than usual but your mom’s death and the situation at home had triggered something in you, making you snap back. You’d shove his face down into his food during lunch or knock his books down the stairwell whenever you pass by each other. You had even managed to sneak some of the insects from the lab into his gym clothes, causing him to end up with nasty rashes all over his body for a week.

Your physical fights weren’t frequent but they became more violent, with one or both of you having to go to the nurses, holding an ice pack to your busted lips while a piece of gauze was stuck up his bloodied nose. It took several students or even teachers to pull you apart because most of the time no one wanted to jump in and separate you two; it was always so messy with fists and kicks flying everywhere. There was even one point where you both had to go to the hospital for fractured bones. You were both suspended for a week.

Fortunately, things had toned down now that you both were in your final year of high school with the pressure of college and meeting requirements looming over you. Although, neither of you managed to make up. You’d still exchange some foul words but the stupid pranks and fights had simmered down. That never meant you were on good terms though.

But then fate decided to be a little shit and put you in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in.

Your new biology teacher didn’t seem to be informed about the decade-long feud between you and San. So when she assigned the both of you as partners, you felt your heart drop to your stomach as a sick feeling crawled over you. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time- that’s just how much you despised him. You both tried to plead with her to change partners but she was as stubborn as a mule, insisting that you two can “sort out your differences” and finish this project as a team.

And now here you were, avoiding each other’s stares despite being sat next to each other. The proximity between you two was suffocating, it made it hard to focus on the project being explained to you by your cruel teacher. Your skin tingles unpleasantly whenever either of you shifted in your seat, your arms just several centimeters away from touching each other. Many thoughts ran through your head on how you can get out of this. But you knew that you had to find some time to work on the damn thing together or else you’d flunk high school— and being stuck in community college, never being able to leave this town, was not worth hitting San at the back of the head and gloating at him.

“You have the rest of the period to plan with each other. Make sure to have your presentation set and ready for next week.” Your teacher says and sits at her desk.

The room was filled with chatter as the students started conversing with each other. Many pairs threw knowing stares at you, worried that you’d be at each other’s throats. Surprisingly you weren’t… at least not yet anyway.

For a while, neither of you said anything to each other. San simply scrolled through his phone hidden under his desk while you organized your final notes. Minutes tick by and the class slowly comes to an end. With a heavy sigh, you decided to swallow your pride and talk to the guy.

You turn to the boy, roughly shoving his knee with yours and he sends you an irritated glare. “C’mon we need to plan for this.” You deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you.

San returned the sigh and pocketed his phone, shifting to face you. “Alright then. So what’s the plan?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to be talking about, dumbass.” You mutter, growing irritated. You clench your fists together in an attempt to keep your calm before continuing. “Anyway, we’re supposed to make some model of the nerve cells then present it.”

San stays quiet for a moment before speaking up. “My sister has some spare clay and wires from her sculpting hobby. I could ask for some.”

“Great. You work on that while I work on the script.” You conclude before going back to your notes.

“Hold on- you’re gonna leave me with all of the hard work?”

“We have the same workload?? I’m making the script.”

“That’s easy- scripts can be finished within a day or something.” San shot back, finding the arrangement you had set, without his consultation by the way, as unfair.

“Then I’ll help you when I’m done. Quit whining like a bitch.” You sigh, having no energy to continue the argument with him.

“Asshat…” He mumbles under his breath, pulling out his phone to text his sister. He expected some sort of retaliation from you but you simply remained quiet. That was odd- considering that you never missed the chance to have the last word in. Maybe you just weren’t feeling it today.

Nevertheless, he ignored you, deciding that it wasn’t worth pestering you at the moment. The bell rings, signaling the end of the class, and you’re immediately up and out of your seat, stuffing your notebook into your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. It almost hits San’s cheek in the process but you were already walking out the door before he could call you out on it.

“Geez…” He huffs and keeps his own things, glaring after you while hoping that time would fly by fast so that the project was done and over with.

~~

A few days have passed by since the biology class. True enough, you’ve finished writing and even printing the script within the day the project was assigned to you. So now you were stuck helping out San with sculpting the whole model. You two would work together at the back of the library after school. Initially the librarian was hesitant about letting the two of you inside given your reputation and all. But when she saw that neither of you were at each other’s throats, surprisingly, she allowed for you to work on it in the library.

Of course you and San still had some disputes— how it’s supposed to be positioned, what shape it’s supposed to take, yadda yadda. But it had never escalated into a full blown argument because it always ended up with you taking the blow of his harsh words. That alone started to concern the boy, you’d always get back at him. But your resigned silence after every quip he threw at you started to worry him. Sure he hated your guts but San wasn’t a nasty person. He knew something was bothering you. But, he never took the initiative to ask what was bothering you; it wasn’t his problem anyway.

~~

A weekend away from Monday aka the day of your presentation. The model was almost done— it just needed a paint job. Since it was a Saturday afternoon, meaning the school was closed, neither of you were able to work at your usual spot. So San decided to just take the whole thing to your home to finish it. Of course he could finish the whole thing himself but he had a party to attend later in the evening, and he didn’t want to miss out on it.

He arrives at your home, model in one hand and a crate of paints in the other. He takes note of the absence of your dad’s and step-sister’s cars in the driveway and assumed that you were all out. He sighs in frustration, hoping that that wasn’t the case. Jogging up to the porch, the boy sets down the crate and rings the doorbell a couple of times, foot tapping against the wooden floorboards as he waits.

When there was no response after a few minutes he tried again, this time ringing the doorbell a bit more frantically. Before he could turn around and head back home after getting no response, he hears frantic footsteps scurrying inside and steps back as the door swings open. There you were, hair looking like a bird’s nest while your week-old cardigan hung off your shoulders. There were dark circles under your eyes and you looked like a hobo who had the opportunity to clean after themselves. In other words: you were a mess.

“The fuck are you doing here?” You snap the minute your hazy mind registers that San was standing at your door.

The said boy snaps out of his own trance and shoves the model in your face. “We need to finish this.”

You stare at the figure in his hand then to the crate by his foot and then to his face that displayed an expectant expression. You sigh and rub your face. “Couldn’t you have finished it yourself?”

“I’m busy later.”

Another sigh leaves you and you step back to let him in. He enters the house, leaving his shoes by the door as he looks around the place. It was a bit messier than he had expected. There were rumpled coats hanging off of the arm of the couch, a small pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of cheap beer on the coffee table. The wallpaper was starting to fade with a few faint stains here and there.

San stays quiet as he follows you through the house, seeing the small stack of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink. He turns back to look at you, finding your silence as unnerving. You only trudged up the stairs, motioning for you to follow him. He expected to see you turn down the hallway and enter one of the rooms but was quite surprised to see you stop by a frayed rope hanging from the ceiling of the hall. You reach up and tug down on it, revealing the ladder towards the attic.

“Don’t tell me you live up there,” San jabs.

“Yeah and what of it?” You grumble, sending him a tired glare over your shoulder before climbing up the ladder.

He was stunned into silence when he realized that you were serious. He bites his tongue and refrains from jeering at you, handing the box of paints to you before climbing up. Several thoughts ran through his mind— why was your room in an attic? And since when did you start smoking and drinking? Was it even yours?

His head pokes into the surprisingly clean but small room. Your bed was pressed up near the slanted wall of the roof, several polaroids of you, your few friends, and your mother plastered along it. On the opposite side was your desk and your wardrobe whose paint was starting to chip off. Several boxes, labeled and not labeled, were pushed to the corner of the room, stacked in a way for them to take up less space.

San looks to you rummaging through your desk, probably finding a brush or something. He wordlessly steps into the room and pulls the rope, closing the trapdoor beneath him. He turns to you again and before he could stop himself, he found himself blurting the question that was plaguing his mind: “What the hell happened to you?”

You turn on your heel, almost knocking over the picture frame of you and your mom. Your hand reached out to steady it before answering San. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Why do you live up here?” He motioned to the whole attic space with his arm. “Don’t you have a room downstairs?”

“I do.” You simply say and take the crate of paints, pulling out the needed colors and some paper cups for you to place them in.

When you don’t elaborate, San squats down to your level on the ground and tugs the purple paint tube out your hand. “What happened to it?”

“Why do you care?” You snatch the tube back with a hiss, preparing all the things needed. “It’s none of your business…”

The boy sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. He nibbles at his cheeks, carefully going over what he wanted to say. “...look, _____,” he starts, voice surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to tell me everything but you don’t have to keep everything in.”

You don’t answer him or make any move to acknowledge what he had said. But you were listening; part of you decided to take down your walls for just a moment and hear what he has to say. And San seemed to sense this because he continues.

“I’m not gonna say that ‘I’m here for you’ and all that crap but, there are people who're willing to listen to you. Whatever you’re going through right now, no matter how big or small it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Again, you don’t respond. A moment of silence full of high strung tension passed by. It was only a few seconds but it felt longer than that— especially since you both stopped in what you were doing and stared at the ground or at each other’s hands.

You always hated San but you couldn’t help but sense the sincerity in his words. It’s kind of pathetic but at the moment, his genuinity, the softness of the way he spoke was what you were craving for. At that moment, you just wanted assurance that things will be okay and that whatever you were doing in life wasn’t useless. And the guy you seemed to hate most was offering you that.

Tears prick at your eyes and you hastily brush it away with the sleeve of your cardigan, refusing to show any weakness to your nemesis. But it was hard; once the tears started flowing it was difficult for you to stop. You play it off by finishing up in preparing the paints, suppressing any hiccups or sobs that would escape before eventually giving up and bringing your legs up to your chin, crying into your sweats. Fuck it if San sees.

You curled up into yourself, crying into your pants when you felt a gentle but hesitant hand on your shoulder. You jolt at the touch, seeing San back away quickly. His brows were furrowed in concern and his lips were pursed, almost as if he were thinking about what he was going to say.

“G-go on, gloat,” You hiccup, choking on your tears. “I look like a m-mess anyway…”

You were surprised, and a little bit embarrassed, that he didn’t follow with what you said. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small packet of tissues and handing it over to you. He looked up to your desk, seeing your water container on your desk. He stands up to take it, shaking it to check if there was still some water in it, before placing it by your foot.

“I’m not going to lie, you are a mess,” San says before returning to his previous spot on the floor. “But I guess that’s normal when you’re having a shitty day.”

“More like a shitty life…” You mumble. You chug down the rest of your water, managing to stop your tears as you wipe them away with the tissues. You look up at the boy across you and sigh heavily. “It’s my step-mom,” you say.

“I’m sorry?”

“My step-mom. She made me move up here so that her daughters could take my room.” You explain. “My dad didn’t say anything because he’s a pushover, wasting his life away on cigarettes and the alcohol his wife buys…”

San nods slowly in understanding, finally making sense of what he saw in the living room and kitchen. That explained a lot of things: why you would always faintly smell of alcohol or nicotine a few months after your mother had died. It had honestly shocked him to hear that— your dad and step-mom always looked presentable in public. Your step-sisters were a bit more extravagant but neat nonetheless. The way they talked and carried themselves didn’t seem to indicate that they had any substance addiction.

Thinking back on it, it had also explained why you were so irate and moody almost all the time, leading to you losing some friends in high school as you fell back into yourself or into violence. It was a defense mechanism— you didn’t want to seem vulnerable because at home, you were vulnerable enough.

An idea pops into his head and he promptly stands up, momentarily making you jump from his sudden movement. You look up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Come with me.”

“What???”

“I said get up and come with me.” San says and actually held his hand out to you.

You look at it skeptically before looking up at him, contemplating about any consequences in following him— if there were any. He wiggles his fingers, impatiently coaxing you to join him and you finally make up your mind. Might as well follow him; you had nothing to lose anyway.

You swat his hand away to get up on your own, mumbling something along the lines that you could get up yourself before straightening yourself out and placing your hands on your hips. He gives a satisfied nod and grabs his shoes to put them on. He then kicks open the trapdoor before heading back down for you to follow.

He returns to the living room with you trailing behind, still wondering where exactly he wanted you to go. When you glance at the clock you see that it’s already 5:30 in the afternoon. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt something land by your feet. You whipped your head around to see San pointing at your shoes which he probably threw at you from the door.

“We’re heading out for a while.” He says as he exits your house. You take a moment to process what was happening when he pops his head in. “Come on slowpoke.” He ushers you.

You hastily throw on your shoes, grabbing the house keys hanging by the coat rack, and hop out of the house. You lock the door behind you and approach San who was sitting upon his notoriously loud motorbike. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling down behind him.

Your arms awkwardly flutter beside you, opting to hold onto whatever space was left on your seat. You jump in surprise when you hear and feel the engine roar to life, eliciting an amused chuckle from the boy in front of you. You glare at the back of his head, smacking his shoulder and settling yourself once more.

“Hold on tight,” San tells you as he revs up the motorbike.

“I am.” You argue and strengthen your grip on the seat, shaking the bike a little to emphasize your point.

“No you aren’t.” You feel heat rise to your face when he tutted in annoyance, taking your arms and placing them around his waist. “There you go. See? No harm done.”

You only grumble something in response, making him chuckle to himself. It was a bit strange to see you tame like this. Sure it kind of boosted his ego considering that he managed to make you flustered with just a few words and a simple action but he actually kind of liked it when you weren’t at each other’s throats. He revved up the engine again before taking off and speeding down the road.

The evening breeze is cool as it whips through your hair and brushes against you, sending small goosebumps running down your skin. A small yelp escapes you when San picks up speed, causing your grip on him to tighten. He glanced back at you for a moment before taking the turn that exits the town and towards the road uphill. It led to the small forest that overlooked the city; it was a popular place in town for hiking or camping. You remember going there to play as a kid.

The air gets chillier as you both reach a higher altitude. You unconsciously nuzzle closer to the boy in front of you in an attempt to seek some body heat. The sky grows darker, turning into a deeper blue shade as the night slowly creeps upon the town. Some stars start to peek and settle themselves in the dark blanket of the sky by the time San slows down to a stop. He had stopped by the edge of the forest, a metal railing along the opposite end to keep people or vehicles from falling off the edge.

“We’re here.” San says and looks back at you. “You can let go if you want now.”

At that, you peel yourself away from him and hop off his bike mumbling something about how cocky he was while walking over to the railings. He joins you soon after, keeping a respectable distance from you. None of you say anything at first, simply taking in the view of the city in front of you. Now know why San took you out here: to breathe and clear your mind of things; something that you didn’t know you needed at the moment.

The spot you were in allowed you to overlook the town, seeing the lights from the roads and houses down below. You could spot the water tower in the distance along with the radio tower next to it. As you survey the scene before you, you make out one house in the distance with a multitude of colored lights flashing around it.

“Looks like someone’s having a party.” You muse, finally breaking the silence.

San hums in acknowledgement. “I hope they aren’t missing me.”

It takes a moment for you to understand what he said, perking up when it made sense to you. “So that’s what you meant when you were ‘busy.’” You say as you lightly punch his arm. “You’re such an ass.”

“What? I wasn’t lying; I would’ve been busy.” He defends himself, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Yeah,” You huff. “Busy shoving your tongue down people’s throats.”

A mischievous hum. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Ew no, gross- I’ll pass.”

You share a small laugh together before settling into silence again. It was… kind of cathartic, being able to actually laugh for a long while-even if it was with your longtime nemesis. It was better than crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

You turn to lean your back against the railing, using your arms to support you as you mull over the forest.

“I used to come here a lot as a kid.” You say, managing to capture San’s attention. “Pretended to gallop along the trees like some sort of princess when I was in my horse phase… I would always come home with scraped knees. I was a clumsy kid.”

“Except when you’d throw punches at me,” San interjected, ghosting a hand over his jaw. “You sure knew how to pack a punch.”

You smile apologetically, a sheepish flush on your cheeks, and look over to him. “Well you did deliver some pretty good kicks- I needed to learn how to defend myself.”

San shrugged in agreement. “I guess,” He muses and offers you a small smile, lapsing into silence again. “You know… it’s actually kind of surprising but you aren’t so bad to talk to.”

You nibble at your lower lip at his confession, unsure of what to make of it. When you look up at him, you see that he had inched a little closer to you. He still kept a reasonable amount of space between you two but it was apparent that he wanted to get closer. He drums his fingers against the cool metal of the railing, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words carefully.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been an asshole to you. I know that I’ve hurt you, not just physically, but emotionally too. And I want to apologize for that… I know, words are just words. It won’t do anything to reverse or take back what I’ve done to you then, but please, take it as a first step to making it up to you.”

San decided to meet your watery gaze, his chest clenching at the tears you were trying so hard to hold back. He holds his hand out instinctively, wanting to offer some sort of physical comfort. He stops himself midway, opting to just settle it on the rail halfway from you. “You don’t have to make a decision right here and now. You can still hate me all you want, but I promise to leave you alone from now on.”

You whimper pathetically, finally letting the tears flow down your cheeks. You felt guilt consume you at his apology. Why was he taking the blame for everything? It should be you who was saying sorry. After all,you were just as cruel as him. And thinking back on it, this feud had most likely started with you. You raise a sweater paw to wipe at your tears, sobbing into your hand.

God you were a mess.

“Don’t, don’t blame yourself… I should be apologizing too. It takes two to tango right?” You hiccup, managing to give him a shaky smile. “I could’ve chosen to ignore you or direct my anger elsewhere but I still ended up targeting you at the end of the day…”

“_______, it’s okay—“

“No it’s not.” You hiss. “I’m not just talking about what I did in high school. I’m talking about every instance I was cruel to you. It was petty, extremely childish, and just horrible overall. I don’t expect you to forgive me but I want to apologize too. I’ve made part of your life a living hell.”

You glance at his hand on the railing before holding your own out towards him. “Truce?” You offer. “We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy after this but at least we can just end this whole thing.”

San gripped your hand in a gentle but firm handshake. “Truce.” His touch lingered for

just a second before he gave a gentle squeeze and pulled away. He returned it to the previous spot on the railing.

The both of you remain for a while, just overlooking the town and reflecting on what had happened. The quiet atmosphere that you both shared suddenly didn’t seem so awkward anymore. Instead, it was filled with some tension but with a bit of comfort at the same time. It was similar to the feeling of a thorn being plucked out of your side: painful but relief that it was finally out.

You don’t expect that things would go right at once— this wasn’t like the movies or the books where everything was magically solved. You both had left some scars on each other, some that are too hard to forget or too deep to heal easily. But you two were working on it: healing and forgiving each other. It was still a long journey but it was something you were both willing to go on together.

You glance to San, seeing how relaxed he was right now. He didn’t look so annoying or so terrifying anymore. A tiny grin makes its way to your lips; never in a million years did you think you’d find solace in someone you despised so much.

“Hey San,” You call out to him, resting your hand beside his, your pinkies brushing against each other. “...thanks for this. I really needed it.”

He smiles at you, flashing his cute dimples at you. It sends a warm, tingly feeling down your spine and you couldn’t help but feel calm at that. “Glad I could help.” He momentarily pat the back of your hand, engulfing it with his larger one when you didn’t pull away.

It was late when he drove you home to finish the project. Unsurprisingly, your family was still out, probably at an event they forgot to tell you about. But you didn’t mind, you had an unexpected friend with you right now.

You smile to yourself as you wave goodbye to San from the doorway, seeing him speed down the road and into the night. He may have been the bad guy in your life but it turns out, he wasn’t such a bad guy. And you were thankful that you were able to see that because at least you knew you had someone in your corner.

[slasherb1tch]

Hiii could I ask for a matchup please?

Ok so to start off I’m a 5,6 girl who likes men, I have an interest in psychology which I sort of explore when I watch horror movies lol, I like to analyse TV characters wayyy to much, I also love animals (I volunteer at my local shelter and I love my dogs and cat so much I am a total pushover for them lol :’)), taking walks, singing, dancing and baking especially when I’m stressed. I am a bit shy when meeting new people but when I get comfortable I like to play around a lot and have fun. Generally I am a cheerful person but I let things get me down easily and I hate conflict, I just want things to be peaceful and I can be a bit sensitive but I’m working on it!!! I love vintage stuff and end up obsessing over past time periods like the 19th century and rococo period, especially the art and fashion, I like to read and used to write a lot and do art (drawing and painting) but sort of am really self-conscious about what I make so :’) I just get caught in my own head a lot bc I sort of have a wild imagination and I am a total hopeless romantic tbh aha, anyways I hope that was enough! Tysm and have a nice day!!! :D

Hello dear! Thank you so much for requesting from me!

I had to think for a little before giving you someone, there were two very good options for you! I just hope you like the one I picked!

You caught the attention of…

Will Graham

Will would find your interest in psychology wonderful, he’d find it actually fun to watch movies and analyse the characters with you. You two might just end up blurting something out during the movie and having an entire conversation about it. Or after the movie ends fully, analyse why a character acted the way they did.

Will would fall completely in love with you when he learns that you volunteer at an animal shelter! He’s a total dog lover ahem if you can’t already tell, so knowing that you care for pups too would make him very soft. Speaking of dogs, he’d love to meet yours! Just make him promise he won’t steal them. He’ll want your dogs to meet his so they can all have little playdates! Imagine being able to watch all the puppies play together and run around the yard. Oh and don’t worry, Will might be a dog person, but he’ll warm up to your cat just fine! Soon he’ll be treating them like a little baby ♥︎

He’d adore taking walks with you, but of course the dogs are coming with, he wouldn’t let them get in the way of you though! He’d use your walks as time to just learn more about you and talk about whatever has been on his mind. He would find walks with you the most relaxing, he gets to wind down and talk to the person he loves most. Will would smile every time he hears you sing, you’ll find him just staring at you with the most loving look in his eyes and smiling softly. He’s not normally a dancer, but im sure you can convince him!! Will would want to learn to foxtrot with you, but he’d be worried the entire time about stepping on your feet, poor boy.

Will wouldn’t mind your shyness at first, he’d be patient and wait until you are comfortable enough to open up! Once you relax around him, I can tell you, he’d adore this new side of you. Will would try his best to separate his work from his life at home with you, I mean his job isnt the most peaceful, so he won’t talk about it with you unless he absolutely has to.

I can imagine Will stopping by a book or art supply store while coming home from work just to get a gift for you. He might not do it often, but when he does he’ll always manage to somehow get exactly what you want. Will would like to watch you paint or draw, but if you don’t feel comfortable enough he’d understand. (He might look at it when you’re finished, he can’t help it, he’s very curious)

Sorry for taking a little bit to finish your matchup 😭 I hope you like who I chose for you!

Enjoy~!

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU Pt. 7 (1...6)

tw: general Howard Stark warning

----

So, here’s the thing.

Peter meant to ask May about the letter the night he got it back from Tony, He really did. But then everyone was in such a good mood, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter that to satisfy his own curiosity.

So then he meant to ask the next day.

And he tries, he really does.

But the letter feels as heavy as an anvil in his desk drawer and Peter is too nervous to ask about it. Something always comes up or he gets too scared to shatter the image of the good, obedient nephew he is, one who doesn’t go rifling through mail not addressed to him, prying into personal business.

So he flusters and stumbles pretty badly for the first couple attempts. He changes topic quickly, pretending like he was going to ask about something else, asking himself where exactly his business ends and where his curiosity begins.

Once during a gymnastics comp he stopped mid routine to check on a rival who had fallen from the rings and injured themselves. His coach asked when he was going to stop being a goddamn martyr.

He shakes the Magic 8-Ball on Monday morning and asks the universe if it’s an appropriate time to approach May.

Reply hazy, try again.

Well, that’s not what his flagging courage had hoped for. He shakes it again.

Ask again later.

One more time, harder.

Better not tell you now.

“What the hell,” he whispers, placing it haphazardly upon where he took it. “That’s bullshit.”

“What’s with the potty mouth,” May asks suddenly from behind him. He turns as she’s affixing some dangling earrings to her ears. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” he sighs. “Just - do you have a minute?”

She checks her watch. “I have about forty seconds. Is something wrong - are you okay?”

“No - I mean yes, I’m okay. Are...are you?”

“Top of the world, bubby,” she scoops her keys from the bowl, approaching him with a curious expression. “Why do you ask?”

There’s no easy way to ask without blatantly admitting to going through her things, and the last thing he wants her to think is that she can’t trust him.

“I just mean. If you weren’t. If there was something wrong, you would tell me, right?”

“Of course,” her face falls. “You’re acting strange, Pete.”

“I just worry, that’s all.”

You’re all I have left, is what loops over and over in his mind, but doesn’t say. She seems to hear it anyway, rushing forward and kissing his forehead, her perfume filling his nose.

“Everything is fine, bubs. The second it isn’t, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay.”

“I gotta go, but stop worrying okay? That’s my job. You have a good day.”

She hurries to scoop up her handbag and closes the door before he’s broken out of his thoughts long enough to reply. He sighs and shakes the stupid ball again before he leaves as well.

Cannot predict now.

Of course.

Just for once he’d like fate to be firmly on his side.

---

Something smells weird.

It’s sharp, chemical and not entirely unpleasant. Noticeable, however, sharp enough to cut through the usual musty smell of the library. It’s like apple cider, but overpowers the usual library smell of old books and dust and pencil shavings, a scent Peter has long associated with study, solitude, and the easing of his anxious heart from a gallop to a steady stride.

It’s not a bad smell, just misplaced.

And Tony’s been acting strange all study period. Like, weirder than normal - and his resting state of normal is already ineffably frenetic and bewildering, so this was an entirely different carton of eggs.

Peter doesn’t exactly want to bring it up, they’re kind of on a tenuously peaceful truce, a silent lay down of arms, so to speak.

Well, as peaceful as a truce can be while they call each other all sorts of names and rib each other over literally any sign of weakness, but still. They have some sort of an understanding now, and it’s all relatively innocent, good natured banter.

Mostly.

Peter for sure could have done without being called fuck-face-mcgee upon entering the library, but he’s willing to let it pass. He was late, after all.

“Anyway,” Peter says, sitting across the table from Tony, “so I think if we removed the monthly gym membership, we’d have an extra sixty per month that could go towards other stuff.”

“Like what?” Tony’s face pinches.

“I don’t know, like a college fund?”

“Ridiculous idea. I need that membership,” Tony rebukes, shrugging his leather jacket off, hooking it over the back of the chair. “When else am I supposed to get a reprieve from you and the cabbage patch?”

“When do I get a reprieve? I’m the money-maker. When do I get my break from work and childcare?”

“At work. What are you, like an art teacher or something? Your whole day is like a rich, white woman's vacation. Parents don’t get a lunch break.”

“Right. I’m sure watching Dora and burping an infant is as hard as teaching a class of thirty.”

“Wow. So dismissive. I mean, if you were a good spouse, you would give your withered and weary husband a break from screaming babies and shitty diapers.”

“Mhmm. That would mean I’d have to do something nice for you, and that doesn’t sound like me.”

Tony shakes his head. “We’re getting a divorce as soon as Molly is old enough to pick me as the superior parent,” he points to Peter’s papers. “Put that in the notes.”

Peter closes his eyes and sighs, willing himself not to lean over the table and smack the other boy.

“You are not the superior parent. You’re the deadbeat that forgets to pick her up from school and day drinks.”

“And yet, she loves me the most. You’re just the breadwinner who comes home grumpy every evening. I’m the cool dad.”

“Fine, keep your druglord baby. I never wanted kids anyway.”

“Fine. I’m keeping the car.”

“I’m keeping the apartment.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They snicker quietly in a rare moment of camaraderie before a lightbulb goes off in Peter's head.

“What if we used the membership, but cut costs elsewhere, like, cutting our own hair and stuff. We could save for a yearly holiday, go to the beach or something.”

“Florida! Disney, roadtrip, yes,” Tony clicks his fingers towards Peter, smiling wide. “Look at you getting all savvy. Call the judge, the marriage is back on.”

“You can’t go to Disney for a few hundred dollars, dumbass, that’s barely the price of admission,” Peter scribbles on his pad, making note of their ideas. “You ever been?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Not even once.”

“That’s surprising. Isn’t that where all rich white people take their baby sociopaths to beat up their first mascot?”

“One, I was never a baby, I emerged fully grown, and two, could you imagine Howard Stark within a mile of the happiest place on earth? He’d have a fucking stroke,” his face changes like he’s had an epiphany. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

Peter doesn’t mention that he doesn’t personally know Howard Stark but is willing to take Tony’s assessment at face value. That being said, he can’t imagine Tony, now, voluntarily heading to Disney without coercion or the promise of copious quantities of alcohol. He’d probably smoke and cuss and scare away small children.

He mind lingers on that particular characterisation, and for a moment tries to picture what Tony looked like as a kid, if he was a chubby, toothless little brat, can’t help then imagining him with Mickey Mouse ears, gleefully running through his gigantic home, harried caretakers running after him.

He must have been the worst.

“I’ve never been further than Washington,” Peter offers, “but that was for AcDec, so it wasn’t like we got to see much.”

“You did Academic Decathlon?”

“Yep.”

“Ew, why would you do that to yourself.”

“I still do it. It looks good on college applications and it’s fun,” he shrugs. “I like it. I’m good at it.”

Tony’s hands cover his mouth, but it doesn’t stifle the rising apple of his cheeks or the mirth in his voice.

“I’m feeling so much second-hand embarrassment for you right now.”

“Shut up,” Peter huffs, kicking him under the table, satisfied when the other boy winces. He fails to smother his own wince when he gets a kick in return, right in the kneecap. “Nothing wrong with being an intellectual.”

“You’re a fucking nerd, four-eyes.”

“What about you?” Peter rolls his eyes, keen to change the subject. “Been outside New York?”

Tony shrugs, tapping his pen on the pad, looking anywhere but at him. “When I was younger I’d sometimes go on my dad's business trips to Europe or Japan or whatever. And we have a house in Malibu.”

“That sounds awesome.”

Tony snorts. He shuffles on his seat, sliding their notes over and making further amendments in quick strokes, the cheap pen spurting bright red ink over the paper like arterial spray.

“Oh yeah, it was a real blast.”

Spoiled brat.

“Are you going anywhere for Thanksgiving?”

“With my family?” Tony looks up. “No, I’d rather stick my head up a turkey’s ass. You?”

Without warning, Peter’s hand flies to cover his mouth, unable to  but snort at the imagery, He’s not sure if Tony just doesn’t get along with his family or if he’s still stuck in that churlish, ‘too cool to be around my parents’ stage of adolescence. It’s one the idiosyncrasies that would have annoyed Peter before, his ungratefulness of having a family that’s still alive would be just another thing for Peter to hate him for.

Now, he thinks, he’s beginning to parse out when Tony’s being sincere and when he’s  hyperbolic, finally recognising the latter as a mechanism to throw someone off a topic that makes Tony uncomfortable. He sees it - the warning lights and stop signs in barbed coding, wrapped up in dry wit and sarcasm.

Peter is like that sometimes, too.

And what the hell would Peter know about having a normal family.

“Yeah, actually, for once,” he says softly. “My aunt - not May - and uncle have a holiday home up north, so we’re staying with them over the long weekend.”

“S’cool. May’s family?”

Peter shakes his head. “Sort of - they’re not actually related, but May and Margaret have been best friends since college, so.”

“Is Margaret a babe, too?”

Peter throw a chewed-up pencil at him that he catches easily.

“Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not,” he throws the pencil back, overshooting and hitting the shelves behind them. “What are we talking, on a scale of haggard to hottie.”

“I don’t know, man. You seem to have questionable taste in the people you are attracted to.”

Tony grins crookedly, eyes shining with something Peter can’t decipher. “Ain't that the truth.”

“What’s the supposed to --” he stops himself, suddenly recognising what the strange scent was that he’d been picking up. “Wait - dude, are you wearing cologne?”

Tony’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he responds. “No,” he denies, just as the bell rings. “Oh, look at that, time to get to class.”

Saved by the bell.

“So, this is it,” Tony nods, shutting the lid of his laptop as the bell signals the end of their free period. “We’re done. The assignment. That’s the last of it, right?”

Dazedly, he watches Tony stuffing his laptop and notes into his backpack, brow creasing as his mind catches up.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Send me your notes tonight, I’ll stitch them together with mine and send them back.”

“Okay,” he sluggishly collects his own notes, picking up the bag by his feet. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Well, Parker,” Tony slings his backpack on his shoulder, shuffling backwards, “we didn’t kill each other. I mean, not for a lack of wanting on my behalf.”

‘’Yeah, from Wednesday we’re free. We can go back to normal.”

“Yeah,” Tony’s grin fades. They stare at each other for a long moment that could have been seconds or hours, he doesn’t know, until the second bell rings.

“Hey, um --”

“I’ll send you the notes later,” Tony interrupts, sotto voce. “I gotta get to class. See you around.”

Something in his stomach deflates, sadly and slowly, like a balloon with a pinprick, emptying itself until it’s an uncomfortably hard to digest crumpled mass at the base of his stomach. He pastes on a smile and looks out the window, hoping the feeling doesn’t show in his eyes.

That’s when he notices the leather jacket Tony has left behind, still slung over the back of the chair.

“You left your…” he trails off, turning back, but Tony is already long gone, probably already halfway to his next class. Like a bat out of hell, Peter thinks wryly, picking up the jacket, the leather smooth like butter under his touch, still warm around the collar where Tony’s had been leaning against it.

No good leaving it here to get stolen or be tossed into lost property. He decides to take it with him, folding it gently over his arm. He’ll give it back when he sees him again, maybe after school.

“Nice jacket, Parker,” Flash says approvingly when Peter bumps into him out in the hall.

At first he thinks he’s referring to Peter’s ratty hoodie, and it confounds him for a moment because it’s decidedly not nice, but then he realizes he’s referring to the leather in his arms.

“It’s not mine,” he replies a little too late, because Flash is already down the hall, out of earshot.

Peter sighs. It’s beginning to become a depressing theme.

---

The weird feeling in his chest doesn’t subside all afternoon, and into the evening Peter is starting to think maybe he just has indigestion, like acid reflux or something. Must be the chilli surprise from lunch. Maybe he’d missed his meds.

He sends his portion of the final notes to Tony’s email, turns off his computer and switches on Colbert.

---

It’s not until hours later, well after midnight and the infomercials are playing, only then does his phone buzz against his thigh with a response.

Figures that Tony would be a night owl like him.

> soz was distracted > youtube spiral

Peter shifts downwards on the bed, holding the phone over his face. < s’ok  < what were you watching  > say yes to the dress  < lmao really > lol no > anyway, looks good. ur notes > will print off for u to sign tomorrow < is that a compliment or an admission u were wrong about me 

> neither. One subject does not a genius make  > unlike me, an actual genius

In your dreams, dipshit, he wants to type, but doesn’t, not really keen to provoke a muddy discussion on who is the smartest (it’s definitely Peter).

< u left ur jacket in the library btw, I have it, he texts instead, his pulse jumping when Tony replies with crying emoji’s.

Tony sends him a snap, unexpectedly, a sad face that makes Peter snort. His face seems distressed, the caption reads, thought i lost it for good.

Shifting down further on the bed, he’s feeling suddenly and inexplicably courageous, fire burning up from his belly button to his fingers.

Peter takes a silly photo of himself and sends it back. > didn’t want it to get stolen < aw u care

“I do not,” he whispers to himself.  > i do not. come collect it after school tomorrow or im throwing it out. < u wouldn’t do that to me > there’s a lot of things i would do 2 u  > ....  > um  > lol 

 Peter’s face flames at the implication. He reads over what he just so carelessly typed, stomach positively knotted with embarrassment. Oh god, that is not what he meant. His fingers fly over the screen at record speed as he types out a response. < NOT LIKE THAT < I MEANT IT IN A THREATENING WAY < I’M LITERALLY GAGGING > yikes > ur dirty talk needs work < no it DOESN’T bc we’re not sexting > sure jan > damn. didn’t kno u had it in u bubs < i don’t have it in me > not yet > ;)

Despite the deep blush still heating his face and his heart galloping in his chest, a laugh breaks out of him. The phone in his hand vibrates again. > jk jk, not ever > need to bleach my brain now 

Slowly gliding back to earth he types out a response. < ikr me too < ugh.

He puts his phone down on the bed, looking up at the water-stained ceiling, amusement slowly fading. His pulse though, that doesn’t return to normal.

How could it when his mind suddenly runs away from him, evoking short-lived, but nonetheless strikingly vivid images of intertwined legs, planes of pale skin, and lush lips. How can the heat in his stomach escape when his thoughts conjure phantom sensations of a soft mouth sucking on his neck, the punishing grip of hands on his hips and the warmth and weight of another body on top of his own.

A forehead leaning against his, brown eyes that knocked his pulse off kilter.

The taste of nicotine.

Stop it.

That is dangerous territory right there. And a line he doesn’t want to cross.

Shaking his head, Peter swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up, looking anywhere for a distraction; his window, the posters on his wall, his figurines on his shelves, anything to douse the low-burning fire in his gut.

Standing, he heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed, banging their crappy old heater with his fist to get it working again.

He takes a very cold shower.

----

It’s not that Peter doesn’t enjoy sex.

Not that he’s had it.

But he enjoys jerking off, at least. Like a regular amount, whatever that is for a teenage boy. He likes kissing. Likes thinking about one day being in a real relationship and exploring someone's body and he likes exploring what turns him on and what he doesn’t.

It’s just that he doesn’t let himself think of anyone he knows personally that way, no matter how conventionally attractive they are - not Thor, and especially not him.

Typically, his fantasies are people with vague features, sometimes with bodies like those he has seen in porn, all shapes and sizes. And that’s safe for him.

He doesn’t want to have to look anyone he knows in the eye and wonder what their lips would feel like pressed against his own. If they’re any good at kissing. If they’re the type to take control or cede it.

He does wonder, sometimes though. No matter how much he denies what or who he wants.

Because it doesn’t matter if it’s a person or a thing. Want is never superficial in his experience, it doesn’t feel good most of the time. It’s deep and sometimes dark, it sinks itself into him with its hooks and it tugs, and keeps tugging. It yields to craving and yearning.

Back in his bedroom, his eyes land on his wall-mounted mirror. It’s small. Like the Mona Lisa. Small enough that he doesn’t have to see his whole reflection if he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to crave and yearn for anybody, because he knows it will always be one sided. He’s well aware that he isn’t exactly centrefold material.

Who is gonna look at his weird ears or thin lips, and think, shit, that’s the guy of my dreams. Not with his big glasses or the way his hair twists itself into frizzy, unruly curls once the gel wears off and he starts looking like an unkempt labradoodle.

Who would want to wake up next to him? No one.

So it’s better not to risk imagining anyone real. It’s only in his head that anyone could ever want him back.

His eyes go from the mirror to the jacket folded and placed on his desk. It was intended to be plain sight so he remembers to bring it in - out of sight, out of mind, is what Ben would say. He can still smell the cologne Tony denied wearing earlier.

Once he’s in bed, he turns to face the wall.

Out of sight, out of mind.

---

Maybe Tony subscribes to that mantra as well.

Peter forgets to bring the jacket in all week and Tony doesn’t ask.

---

Danvers wants him fit and ready to be harpooned into the mud by next week; that’s why she looks the other way when Thor and Peter take their informal training in the boundaries of the field, stretching out on the grass as the JV team runs their usual morning drills - drills Peter would have been a part of before his stupid injury and his stupid wrist-brace.

This school is stupid too. Now he has to pay to see a doctor so he can get medically cleared for a sport he doesn’t really care that much about.

Like he didn’t have enough medical bills to deal with.

In any case, he’s not really in a position to complain, because he has the opportunity now to run through his warm-up with Thor, who is taking his direction to spread his legs into a butterfly position so beautifully, even as his knees raise from the ground to make a v-shape, whereas Peter’s lie flat on the grass.

If the last few days had been different, he might have blushed and used the situation at hand as an opening to place his hands on Thor’s knees and applied pressure. But now he just smiles encouragingly and reminds himself that he has no chance - no place - and his hands do not belong anywhere but his own body.

And surprisingly enough, he’s okay about it all.

Thor was a good guy. Peter will never say no to having more friends.

It’s a dreadful, bitter morning. Icy cold, wind biting into his shirt, the grass below them is damp. He has to keep rubbing his hands together so he can restore feeling in his fingers.

To make things worse, Tony is back on the bleachers. White v-neck, jeans and dark sunglasses. Sprawled out over a set of steps, legs askew, arms behind his head, unmoving as if he were napping or sunbathing, appearing like a cocky main out of an eighties movie.

Or a king surveying his kingdom.

Rhodes and Potts slouch on either side of him, swapping phones over his idle figure, taking pictures and laughing amongst themselves.

“It burns,” Thor says lightly, hands on his thighs in an attempt to aim his knees to touch the ground.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, despite the ease in which he can lean in. “It just takes practice, dude. Twenty minutes a day, warm up and don’t over-do it. You’ll be limber in no time.”

“You can do this better than I can,” Thor argues, accent thick as he tries to lie flat like Peter.

“And you can lift a hundred pounds better than I can,” he tries to rebut, even as they switch positions, hip flexors aching with old injuries.

While the stretches are like second nature, he doesn’t miss the pressure of training for competition. The eagerness to get into a flat butterfly or oversplit. There was no argument that he spent nights on crunches back then, and he was somewhat toned - but he was shit at weight training. He hated lifting. Reps were more boring, more tedious and difficult and the diet required to give them any value was frankly not worth giving up a great hotdog or a loaded sub from Delmars. He wouldn’t go back to it now.

None of that old heat is there when he inspects Thor’s form. That quick simmer, the call to be closer. That terrible thing, want. All but gone. awe is still there, as he suspects it always would be with someone as outstanding as Thor, but the butterflies have very much flown away.

As he suspected would be the case. He has someone and they’re happy. With the cat out of the bag Thor had shown Peter pictures of his boyfriend all morning. He’d gotten a puppy, apparently, which just tickled Thor. He was so happy it was almost sickening.

When is it gonna be him that sickens someone with photo’s of his partner?

“Hey, Parker,” Tony yells from the stands, “you suck!”

Looking over, the idiot is raised on his elbows and grinning, like he’s proud of himself for a spectacularly unoriginal insult.

Rolling his eyes, Peter gives him the finger and he gets one in return.

His stomach twists and he has to duck his head to conceal his smile.

“Your husband is somewhat rude,” Thor says, following Peter’s example and switching from a pike to a lunge.

Peter looks back over to the stands. A cigarette now dangles between Tony’s full lips, sunglasses slid to the tip of his nose.

That’s how Peter knows he’s looking at him too.

Even from afar his eyes are round and mirthful, framed with ridiculously long lashes like a cartoon mouse, far too outlandish for any real person to have.

“He’s the absolute worst,” Peter bites his bottom lip, quickly averting his gaze. “It was an arranged marriage, to be fair.”

---

Wednesday comes and goes.

Their assignment gets handed in, Peter signs it off to say he did his fair portion of the work and Miss Ahn beams at the both of them when she is handed the thick binder, looking all too pleased with herself.

They have a presentation of their work next week, after Thanksgiving, each pair expected to give five minutes of their life pretending that they’re passionate about schoolwork in front of their fellow students who don’t care.

After that they are completely unburdened. No study sessions, no car rides, and no fries dipped in milkshakes.

They’re embarrassingly hailed as a prime example of people working through their differences, as if they had come together and were now friends or something.

From the front row Tony sneaks a furtive glance at Peter when she applauds them to the class.

“See, kids,” she says, “it wasn’t so bad working together, was it?”

Their eyes meet briefly.

“Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Tony declares, brash and loud, kicking his combat boots onto his desk in a leisurely display.. “That guy is the human equivalent of watching paint dry. Awful.”

“Oh, come on,” she chides. “Be nice.”

Not one to be outdone, Peter lets his horse out of the gate too.

“Singular worst experience of my life. I once had a root canal without anaesthetic and it was less painful than working with him.”

“Alright, boys, that’s enough out of you,” Miss Ahn sighs deeply, walking to the front of the room. “Mr Lang, how did you find the assignment?”

“Very informative…”

From the front row Tony turns in his seat and winks at him.

----

“Thanksgiving plans?” Natasha asks, leaning beside his locker, smothering a smile as he struggles to get his locker open for the nth time that day with one functional hand.

“Visiting my Aunt and Uncle,” he says, finally prying the damn thing open. “They’ve got a place up at Otisco Lake, so. Probably watching old movies and swimming all weekend.”

“Oof,” his friend winces. “That’s a trip. Think the May-Mobile will make the distance?”

The May-Mobile of course to the ancient, ‘89 Volvo 240 that May has been driving ever since Peter was born. She adores it and refuses to trade in, despite the fact that it rarely gets driven, practically haemorrhages gas, and has cost more in repairs in the last five years than the actual value of the car. But May really loves it. It's sentimental. She says it was the car Ben and her picked out together.

“It better make it,” he dumps his books in, closing the locker. “I don’t want to spend the weekend waiting for AAA in the middle of nowhere. What’s your plans?”

She shrugs, walking with him down the hall.

“Probably go and annoy Yelena. Was supposed to spend it with Bucky and his mom, but that ain't happening.”

He bumps her shoulder sympathetically. “Do you think you two will get back together?”

“Probably. But he’s got a shitload of grovelling to do first.”

“Don’t maim him, please. We need him on the team.”

“No promises.”

“Speak of the devil,” Peter adjusts his glasses, spotting Bucky at the base of the stairs talking to somebody. He gets startled, heart jumping when Natasha grabs him by the waist, pushing him towards the wall and inching them closer to the stairs.

“What are you --”

“ -- Shh, I want to listen. Who is he talking to?”

Craning his head, he finds himself in for another surprise when he sees that the other person he’s talking to is --

“He’s… he’s talking to Stark - what...?”

She shushes him again and Peter listens, curious now too.

“... what do you want, Barnes?” Tony visibly grimaces, taking a cigarette from his pocket and tucking it behind his ear. “Make it quick. I got places to be and your noxious stench gives me headaches.”

An announcement goes off over the loudspeaker over their head, calling for Brendon Bennett, a dick of a senior, to move his car from where he has blocked a teacher from leaving. It would be funny at any other time, but as it goes, he misses a chunk of their conversation.

“...Rogers isn’t the boss of me.”

“Yes, he is, and I’m not getting suspended again because you’re a pussy and he has roid-rage.”

“I just need an ETA. C’mon, pal, I really need this.”

“I’m not your pal and I don’t give a flying fuck what you need.”

Ever the easy going guy, Bucky puts his hands up placatingly as a group of students file down the stairs, causing enough noise that Peter misses whatever is said next. As he strains to hear he tries to draw the line between the dots, but comes up short on exactly how these two are connected.

“That fucker,” Natasha mutters near his ear.

By the time the students clear, Tony’s descended the stairs and begun to walk away

“I have better things to do than to sit around and wait for you,” Bucky calls out, giving him the finger.”

“And yet you will.”

Not in any possible lifetime was Peter going to address that he was weirdly relieved that Tony didn’t flip him off in return, some part of him petulantly thinking that’s our thing, but that’s wrong - Peter and Tony are not friends and they do not have things, even when they do, it’s not like a thing thing.

Nat grips his hand and pulls him along when Bucky leaves as well, swiftly walking away to avoid being caught. His backpack jostles at the speed and he realizes he’s still clutching Tony's jacket from where he had retrieved it from his locker.

“What was that about?” He asks, struggling to keep up with his friend's furious pace as he’s led down the hall. “Tash?”

She drops his hand once they are outside, her disapproval near palpable, voice laden with fire and fury.

“That’s Bucky being a world class idiot, he’s gonna get himself expelled, I swear.”

Peter stops on the spot.

“Expelled?”

Something dark curls unpleasantly in his gut, heavy and not leaving.

“They have a thing,” she explains hotly, mouth turning down. “Bucky and Stark.”

“What?” Peter breathes, uncomfortably thinking back to the party and the way Bucky overtly complimented Tony’s body. “Like a.... like a sex thing? Did he cheat on you?”

“What? No.”

“Then what?”

Red strands whipping in the wind, his friend looks around to see if there is anyone nearby before leaning in to speak low. He leans in too, unabashedly curious.

“Do you remember when Bucky was having issues with his parents when school started?”

He nods, thinking back to the times Bucky slept over in the late days of summer and early weeks of the school year, once or twice a week to get away from the shouting in his own home.

Natasha continues.

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but he got really depressed and fell behind with his work and everything he was handing in was terrible. Danvers pulled him up and said if he didn’t get his grades up, he’d be risking his spot on the team. So Bucky paid Stark to write up a few assignments for him, apparently he was doing it for a few kids, like it was a thing.”

...Okay.

That was not good, and definitely disappointing, but -

“Rogers found out. He gave Bucky a warning, but with Stark he threatened to go to Fury.”

Peter thinks back to the fight between their captain and Stark and their fight not long ago. “That’s why they…”

“I’m told Stark snapped, but I don’t know. I found out about the whole paper thing after that and me and Buck fought about it. I just got so mad - he’s - he’s not stupid, you know?”

“I know.”

She exhales heavily through her nose. “He’s going to get himself kicked out of school and I’m so -- I could kill him. We’re supposed to graduate together and get away from our families and go to college, and then he does this.”

“I’m sorry, Tash, I didn’t know,” he hugs her, her body going stiff before relaxing in his hold. “That’s shitty. For both of you.”

“I’m sorry for thinking you were in on the loop.”

He smiles, self-deprecating.

“Nope, I’m as clueless as ever.”

“No, you’re just too good for that,” she shakes her head. “Look, I gotta go and blow off some steam. Please don’t tell anybody about all this.”

“I won't, I swear - but text me later, alright? Let me know you’re okay.”

She ruffles his hair before stepping back.

“You’re a bleeding heart, PP. Keep an eye on that, will you?”

Hearing a squeal of tyres, he whips his head around to the parking lot, the source of the noise. The Firebird squeals out of the lot and onto the road, the sound as angry, the glimpse Peter gets of Tony’s face, even angrier.

He turns back to Nat, but she’s already walked away. Which means she isn’t there to hear him mutter to himself.

“What are you getting into, Tony?”

----

His thumbs hover over his phone that night, as he writes i saw u with barnes today.

He quickly deletes that, not wanting Tony to think that he was following him or spying on him - or worse, thinking that Peter actually cares about what he does. He doesn’t. They’re not friends.

A dread settles in the spaces between his ribs, like thread trying to squeeze them together too tight, his lungs feeling compressed. Maybe it’s his asthma, or allergies.

It’s not and he knows it. He’s disappointed.

He rubs at his chest on his way home thinking about the scene they just saw and about what Natasha said. How is it that so many people in his orbit had this entire entanglement going on without Peter having any whiff of it? It really makes him wonder if they were they good at hiding it or was he just really fucking stupid. Stupid enough to think Bucky was doing okay, that Rogers wasn’t as sanctimonious as he appeared to be, and that Tony was --

Nevermind.

It’s none of his business and it’s not his place.

He knows better than to ask. It’s not as if he can forget all his own secrets that he clutches tightly to his chest, so tight it feels like he constantly walks through life with his fists clenched.

That and, like May, the real truth is that he can’t claim any entitlement to their trust. He eavesdropped in more ways than one these last two weeks. He tries to brush off that dry, sobering thought; it’s none of his business anyway and he has enough on his plate without getting involved.

When are you going to stop being such a goddamned martyr.

So then he thinks about the sheer fury on Tony’s face, how his - how he used to look at Peter the same way, and how Peter used to think that angry and bitter was Tony's default mood. That was that. The status quo.

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair, was it. It was easier to dislike Tony when he was distant enough that Peter could pigeon-hole him into a stereotype.

Because Tony got into fights, sure, countless and petty, but he was the guy who pet puppies and snuck them food under the table. Not the guy who kicked them.

He looked like the puppy that was kicked, though.

Not angry.

Wounded.

And that’s what confuses Peter. Turns out he doesn’t really know anything about his friends.

Or Tony, it would seem.

----

May closes the drivers-side door and throws a packet of snacks into Peter’s face.

“Pretzels.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he adjusts his glasses where they'd been knocked askew.

“Sorry, I thought your reflexes were better,” she says, and by way of apology, lobs a packet of sour gummies more gracefully on his lap. “Your favorite.”

“Apology accepted.”

From a plastic bag she fishes out two cokes and places them in the centre console, a bag of red licorice and crackers follow, also making their way onto his lap. She always buys too much food.

Then they’re turning back onto the highway that leads them out of where they paused at Monticello, the radio jacked up loud enough to be heard over the tiny droplets of raindrops sporadically hitting the windshield.

They’ve left early enough that it’s still dark.

Fog still hangs low on the roadside, intangible pale wisps that seem to disintegrate upon crossing, the road dotted with other travellers, but not too crowded, enough so they can easily cruise the speed limit and sometimes over. The Bangles play on a cassette tape and, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, May looks so carefree, driving her sentimental car with the noisy engine, singing along to the same cassettes she’s had since she was his age.

Peter can’t bring himself to say what he wants to. About the letters. One in particular. He knows something isn't right but who is he to break the peace?

So, he doesn’t and they keep driving.

The fog lifts and the tunes continue, both of them singing familiar tunes from ABBA to George Michael and Peter let’s go of what he can’t control and loses himself in the buoyancy of nostalgia - neither of them can carry a tune for shit and it’s funny, and when he rolls his window down he sticks his hand out to feel the frigid air, it’s the most free he’s felt in a long time.

Football and his after-school duties and everything else just drifts away with the wind, at least for this moment.

It was like when he was a kid. The route itself is mostly dark and dull, and this time without Ben, but their usual car games of ‘dollar every time you spot a windmill’ and ‘how many minutes until the next town’ are fun and easily pass the time. This will be another memory that he will gloss over with fondness, how even the boring roads will seem like rapture.

When the sky starts to turn from black to grey they stop for early breakfast at a diner just slightly off their trail in Windsor, both of them famished despite the hoard of snacks and in dire need of coffee.

The car is beginning to emit pale plumes of smoke from under the hood as they arrive at Davis Grove, Otisco Lake in the early morning. The sun rises low over the horizon, a slow ascent that turns the sky grey and brushes wriggling streaks of color over the lake.

The house is exactly as Peter remembers it.

Panels painted slate blue, brown-tiled roof. Two-storeys with a wrap-around porch and a private dock only a short distance away from the entrance. A swinging chair on the lawn that comfortably fits three and a half people.

It looks exactly as it did when Peter first came here as a kid, plucked straight out of his memories in perfect form, like it was set in a liminal space that time refused to touch. A piece comes back to his being at this moment, something that he didn’t know was missing.

Aunt Margaret is already standing at the door when the pull up. She doesn’t look a day older than when Peter last saw her years ago.

“Oh, look at you,” she coos, wrapping Peter up in a tight hug, curls brushing his cheek, “my darling little Petey-pie.”

“Hey, Aunt Margaret,” he returns the hug.

“You’re so tall now, let me look at you,” she holds him at arm's length, warm eyes roving over his form. “Oh my goodness, haven’t you grown a handsome young man? Last time we met you only came up to my shoulders and had braces.” She turns her attention to May. “Isn’t he handsome?”

His aunt nods, smiling at them, both women gravitating into a tight embrace. “It’s good to see you, Peggy. Thanks for having us.”

“Our pleasure. You look even more beautiful than the last time.”

“Oh, stop,” May releases her, wiping at her eyes. “Look who’s talking.”

She tilts her head to the porch and takes May’s duffle from where she has dropped it to the ground. “Come on you two, inside. We’ve got the fire going and scrambled eggs on the table.”

Inside it smells like the best parts of his childhood. A burning fire and butterscotch and lingering musky-but-floral scent from the bowl of potpourri high on the mantel. Even the sounds are the same, the same coo of early birds in the burgeoning daylight, someone humming by the stove.

Margaret leads them into the living room, where her husband meets them halfway from the kitchen, oven mitts still on his hands when he spreads his arms wide to welcome them.

“My goodness,” he beams, “look what the cat dragged in.”

He wears a cravat at the same time he wears an apron, looking every bit the formal yet whimsical man Peter remembers him to be and a crushing wave of nostalgia comes over him so suddenly he can’t help but rush forward and embrace him.

“Welcome, Peter. It’s so good to have you here.”

“Thanks for having us, Uncle Ed.”

“What have you taught him,” he points his query to May as he releases Peter to hug her. “You know you can call me Jarvis.”

---

Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter and Edwin Jarvis had been young twenty-somethings when they first met. Both were born in England before moving to the US, but it wasn’t until they met at Margaret’s first college that their paths crossed. They worked in different departments, Peter thinks Ed was an engineer or something and Margaret an analyst, but the universe pulled them together eventually.

Margaret asked Ed out first and then a year later, May was the maid-of-honor at their wedding and Ben was reportedly a teary guest in the squeaky church pews.

And the rest, as they say, was history.

A photo of that day sits framed upon the mantle. May and Margaret have their arms around each other, Uncle Ben and Ed standing awkwardly at the sides of the frame, holding up flutes of champagne.

They look so young. Happy.

Peter observes the photo, smiling. He would have been a baby back then. Before his parents and Ben had -- well.

His mind does these weird calculations sometimes. Like, the May in this photo is only nine or so years older than how old he is now, and this moment, suspended in time, makes them closer than they have ever been, even though in real life they are over twenty years apart.

Looking at this picture, it makes him wonder how many people he knows now will live full lives and die of old age. How many people his age will stay forever young, and who will be in the future looking back at their time now, wistfully staring at pictures of those who only exist suspended in that time.

It’s funny, being a teenager. His peers are too young to die so they assume they won't. Even in their twenties and thirties or forties, death seems like an elusive thing that doesn’t apply to anybody until it does. It’s for the decrepit, the sick.

But in Peter’s case death comes like poorly aimed darts, always landing badly and scoring low. In his pockets, his hands turn in fists. He hopes the three people left alive in this picture get to grow old.

He smells her perfume before he sees her. Margaret approaches, bumping their hips together.

“This was a nice day,” she says softly, wistful. “I wish we’d kept more contact over these last few years.”

“Me too,” he smiles sadly, her expression reflecting his. With a hand on his back she leads him to the couch.

“Come on, munchkin, come sit. Tell me how you have been.”

---

“We weren’t planning on the big dinner,” Uncle Ed says as he finishes peeling a potato, handing it to Peter once he’s done. “But we’re so glad you two joined us. Neither of us have a lot of family here, you know.”

“Us neither,” Peter runs the peeled potato under running water to rid it of dirty residue before chopping it into quarters. “It’s really nice to see you again, it’s been way too long.”

“You really have grown into such a nice young man,” the man smiles. “Ben would be proud. Your parent’s, too.”

“Thank you.”

They haven’t got together like this since Ben died a couple years back. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Shit happened and it got harder to try. May got busier with looking after Peter full time and working more - and Uncle Ed quit his job and opened up a garage and Margaret lost a baby - all at the same time.

It was a lot for everyone. Even college best friends moved apart when fate put up walls at every turn.

It seems everyone in his circle is just does their best to survive. Or maybe that’s just what growing up is.

The remainder of their morning is spent eyeing the oven and skedaddling while Margaret prepares her pecan pie, ejecting them out of the kitchen with a forceful shoo.

“May says you’re playing football,” Ed says, leading him out to the lounge, passing him a can of soda. “How’d that happen? Last I checked you were doing splits over a pommel horse.”

Peter shrugs, tapping his can with his fingernails, idly paying attention to the football on the old TV. “Needed an extra-curricular, there was an opening and for some reason they accepted me.”

“You were so good at gymnastics,” Margaret comments from the kitchen, whisking away at her bowl. “I’m sure you’re exemplary in anything you do. They’re lucky to have you.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, sculling back the rest of his drink, bubbles burning down his throat. “Looks good on college applications in any case.”

“This kid,” May points to him with her beer bottle. “He does it all, I don’t even know how. He’s brilliant.”

I could do more, he thinks. He wonders again in that moment what it is that makes him so deficient that May couldn’t rely on him to accept the truth about their situation, that maybe he was just too naive. But he’s not. He’d drop his after-school activities and get a job in a hot second if he thought it would help. And for just a split-second he’s mad about that, about being kept in the dark.

But then he sees the strain around her eyes, how the bottle in her hands trembles ever so slightly, how much she makes the hard world soft around them. And it’s easy for him to let that feeling go.

“You’re still freelancing?” Peter asks Margaret, momentarily distracted when Ed’s phone lights up with a call.

“Excuse me, terribly sorry,” he says suddenly, picking up the phone and answering it, rising to his feet to converse in the adjacent room.

“Yes,” Margaret says, eyes lingering over where her husband has gone, his voice carrying over the walls in worried, muffled tones. “Well, consulting. I can work from home, which makes it easier to take care of all my non-existent children,” she gestures to the empty room around them.

“You could go work with Jarvis,” May retrieves a new bottle, popping the cap. “Look after the books, help him replace tyres.”

“Tempting,” Margaret says dully, rolling her eyes. “Can’t understand why I haven’t done that yet.”

Jarvis re-enters minutes later, hands held out apologetically; whispering to Margaret first before he addresses the room.

“Um, we have another guest coming up for dinner, if that’s alright,” he winces at their blank faces. “He works for me. Has a difficult family arrangement and needs a bit of respite. You know how it gets over the holidays.”

Peter meets May’s eyes and shrugs. Anyone working under the business and is vouched for by his surrogate uncle is good by him.

“The more the merrier,” May raises her bottle.

After that, the kitchen needs his hands again.

---

The afternoon is spent preparing the sides, checking in on the truly gargantuan turkey and indulging their cat with nibbles and head scratches. May and Margaret spend the time drinking beer and cider, reminiscing their college years. It’s nice to hear the house full of laughter, given how somber the mood was when they were last all together.

“When did you get a cat?” Peter directs his question to Jarvis, accepting a peeler from him to attack the carrots.

The cat in question is completely black and delightfully plump, not overly so, but enough to indicate it’s decently fed but probably also a little lazy. Or maybe he just thinks that now that it lies tall on the peak on its scratching post, tail flicking idly while it watches them work tirelessly in the kitchen from above.

“Oh, about a year ago. Gives Peggy some company while I'm in the garage. She’s a sweetheart, this one.”

“What’s her name?”

“Friday the Thirteenth. Friday for short.”

“That’s, um, unique.”

“Was the day we adopted her,” Jarvis reaches up to scratch her. “And she’s a black cat, so, you know; spooky.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, considering it. “I like it.”

“Not bad, huh.”

“Yep. It’s a better name than Molly,” he mutters, shaking a slimy carrot shaving off his fingers.

Jarvis pauses. “As in Ringwald?”

Peter sighs and continues peeling.

----

“Did I ever tell you about the time May came to class in a bathing suit?”

“I don’t think they need to hear that --”

“So we have this exam,” Peggy says, ignoring May, “Super important. Fifty percent of our overall grade. She comes in late, dripping wet, the biggest hickey on her neck I have ever seen --”

“Peggy.”

“-- Only thing saving her modesty was Ben’s shirt over her shoulders. I had to lend her a pen so she could sit the exam.”

“Did you pass though,” Peter asks curiously, shovelling a large lump of mashed potato into his mouth.

“Top grades,” she winks at him.

“She sat there for two hours, dripping water onto the ground and got flying colors. Meanwhile I’m the idiot who studied for weeks and got marked down twenty points for --”

The end of her sentence gets cut off by the sound of a car approaching the property, headlights flashing through the windows.

Then, a knock at the door.

“Ah, that must be…” Ed trails off, wiping his hand on a napkin before standing. “Excuse me.”

He goes to answer the front door, Margaret continues her story albeit much more quietly until the voices of Ed and their guest filter through, becoming progressively louder.

“Sorry to intrude, I know it’s the holidays --”

Wait. That voice is familiar.

“Nonsense,” Ed interrupts, “you know you’re welcome anytime. You’re practically family, kid. Come in, we’re eating now, you’re just in time.”

Peter’s fork clangs loudly on his plate when he sees their visitor, unable to keep his grip on the utensil as his limbs start to tingle. He forgets how to breathe for a second, entire body going hot.

Ed’s arm is around Tony Stark and they’re approaching through the living room, heading right for them. There’s a fresh cut on his lip and an ugly, wreath of bruising around his jaw and neck, deeply purple, speckled spots of burst capillaries visible from even where he’s sitting.

The worst part isn’t the intrusion. It’s how Tony looks unlike himself; he looks small and skittish, gaze flicking nervously around the room, arms curled around his waist. Something in his chest starts to feel the closer he gets, weird, hot and unwieldy, burning, like a hot poker has been drawn across his sternum.

“You’re the best, Jar...vis,” Tony trails off when he spots the Parkers, eyes zeroing in on Peter.

“Um,” Peter says, sharing a surprised look with May, not knowing what else to say.

But then suddenly Tony is shaking his head, shrugging out of Ed’s embrace and backing up, the skittish look gone and replaced with anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. No fucking way.”

Then he turns, and leaves.

----

*

*

----

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers@starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen, @chaos-with-a-pen, @notnormallaura, @portiamarie02, @bloodymisanthropist, @ser-no-tonin, @staticwhispersinthedark

[commander-hanji-zoe]

Would you please write something about Levi in a Renaissance-like arranged marriage (perhaps turns out to be s/o)

Hello, so this is super late and probably not quite what you'd pictured? When I first got the request I imagined writing a story of around 3k words, but realistically with everything going on in my life i just don't have the time :( But I'm trying to work through requests in order of age and this is the oldest in my inbox. Instead of a fic I've written a series of hand canons on how I imagine this would go and what the relationship would be like. I am certainly no expert on the renaissance period, but I hope you like this!

Levi would want to make his family proud and to keep the family name going. So an arranged marriage has been expected since he was young and he has accepted it as his responsibility without question.

Whoever he has matched with, he will aim to do his best and get on well with them to build a partnership that works for years to come.

While for a married couple of some wealth (as I’m imaging them to be), Levi still doesn’t quite like the idea of having maids/servants to do the cleaning, cooking etc. They have them as it’s what’s to be expected and in a house of the size I imagine them residing in it would be needed. But Levi will occasionally help out with the cleaning and makes sure all staff are treated and paid exceptionally well.

At first he and his wife/husband do not particularly get on, the marriage is for duty not love and Levi can be difficult to get close to. They don’t fight or argue, but there isn’t a friendship there, let alone love. In public they act as dutiful husband and wife and make small talk when they’re alone together but it’s obvious it will be a slow process to get close to one another.

Levi really enjoys gardening and spending time in the orchard reading. It’s something he has in common with his partner and they enjoy discussing and planning changes to the garden, taking on board ideas and inspiration from Italy. They commission a fountain for the garden as well as a small maze which is built for when/if they have children or nephews/nieces etc.

Levi and his partner also plant a small herb garden for use in the kitchen as well as medicinal uses. The gardener tries to stop them from doing this, they shouldn’t be on hands and knees getting muddy but Levi and his spouse insist and end up laughing about it. It’s one of the first times and ways that they bond.

Levi rather loathes parties, he does enjoy dancing and talking to individuals he likes but finds the pretence a bit much. He hates how everyone is always trying to show off and out do one another and wishes people would just be themselves/be honest.

Will always ensure his spouse has everything their hearts desire and that for parties they are both exceptionally well dressed.

As a keen interest in art, when his spouse also expresses a similar interest he pays for them to have a private art tutor even if it isn’t the done thing.

He in the mean time writes about art, politics, gardening…He sees himself as a man of the times and records all his learnings and findings. He also becomes involved in local politics and is at the forefront of bringing scientific discoveries/art/literature etc. to the people of the city.

Levi has a curious mind so if he is matched with someone who also has a keen interest in the world around them they will soon find plenty to talk about.

While the main purpose of marriage, especially amongst high society and where an arrangement has been made, is to procreate - Levi is in no hurry to have children. While he imagines himself with several boys and girls and hopefully one day grandchildren, he would never want to force his spouse to think about this or pressure them into anything.

If any of his family say anything about this or pass comment on them being barren etc. he is quick to have a witty and rather damaging reply defending both his honour and his spouses.

It would take time but I believe Levi would eventually fall in love with his spouse and they in return with him.

Even before they felt love but were married, Levi would ensure to make romantic gestures so that his spouse was happy and didn’t feel trapped in the relationship.

I imagine that they have an orangery where they can sit and read in summer and drink tea, eat lemon cakes before walking round the garden together. Again, the garden they have is like a small paradise, they are both besotted with it, with the koi that are in the pond and the inspiration it brings for paintings. They also grow several citrus trees and have a small olive grove.

In winter they have the most gorgeous, large fireplace and plenty of cushions/throws so they can be cosy and warm with several dogs at their feet.

Both adventurous they would holiday in Italy and France, attend lectures on new scientific discoveries and visit art galleries, cathedrals etc.

Levi would make the best dad if they do end up having children, it’s a role that transforms him. Both being a husband and a father brings out the best in him, he and his spouse do go somewhat against convention, drifting further away from the ‘elite’ and upper class and just living their lives how they want to.

It’s a romantic and adventurous life and they ensure their children have all the opportunities that were never granted to them, including marrying for love.

[spacehologramcollection]

Kombat Krew and Summer Headcanons: Part two.

Have some fluffy headcanons, before Smutty Saturday and Smuttier Sunday. I can hear you all, ‘But Smut Goblin, you’ve already written these’ Well, I have more ideas, and my thirst is now unrivaled. So, Summer with the Kombat Kast Part two: Electric fucking Boogaloo. Oh yeah, there’s also smut, I lied, they aren’t just fluffy.  

I know I said I’d have more characters. But this was ten pages. TEN FUCKING PAGES! So, like Part 2.5 is coming up! Enjoy. 

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Shitposts about Kano. 18+ under the cut. I fixed Sindel and her retcon. I hope.  GIFs do not belong to me. Either found on the Tumblr Gif finder thing, or google. 

Fujin:

·       What fresh fucking hell is this? Short haired Fujin is because he’s sick of this shit. His hair is sticking to his fucking back, he can’t cope with the warmth. So, he cut it. And now he looks like sin incarnate. Fuck yes Fujin.

·       He’s an actual sweetheart when you both go for walks. If it’s too warm and he sees kids trying to fly their kites, he may, just may, summon a breeze. Because he’s actually a giant softie. When you ask him if that was him, he’ll tilt his head and look shocked. Him? Use his powers like that?! He wouldn’t dream… don’t tell Raiden.

·       He loves discovering new mortal customs and culture. Day drinking still confuses him. Why is everyone drinking at 2 in the afternoon? He jokes Bo Rai Cho is having an effect on everyone. He’s not opposed to have a sneaky drink with you as the suns setting though. He does like to have a good time, as we’ve all heard in his intros. You’ve never seen him drunk, you’re pretty sure he can’t get drunk. But he has joked that the Elder Gods must never know, that you’re both drinking wine at 2pm.

·       He’d love visiting winebars on an evening for nice relaxed drinks. Any bar with an outside area, bonus points if it’s got a balcony and a good view… he’d suggest Sky Temple, but relaxed drinks, turn into a bender with Bo Rai Cho. With Bo often suggesting skinny dipping. Raiden has consulted the Elder Gods, ‘Relaxed drinks’ are banned.

·       Long walks. This man has stamina for days. He loves getting out into the middle of bum fuck nowhere and walking. Nature seems to love him and flocks to him. Every. Fucking. Time. You. Sit. Down. You look away, and when you look back, there’s just a fucking rabbit sat near you both. Fujin is feeding it grass. He looks so happy and content.

·        If there’s any music/art/food festivals on, then you’re going, he wants to know more about mortals and their customs. So, any opportunities he’s going to want to take up. Nothing better than him playfully wrapping an arm around you and chuckling when you blush. He’s not that against PDA whilst you’re amongst mortals. He’s sure his brother wouldn’t tease. But Kung Lao would. And he doesn’t fancy a lecture from his brother. It’s not a lecture, but, it’s a lecture.

·       As much as he loves exploring. He’ll also love those lazy warm days. Either sat comfortably close, talking about anything and everything. Or lounging out in the garden or your balcony with him.

·       He’ll always make sure you’re hydrated. Like ‘Y/N, do you need some water? You look dehydrated. Please don’t get dehydrated.’ He’s a bit of a worried mother hen sometimes.

·       He’ll also love watching the sunset, whilst you’re both comfortably laid together. You’re always unsure if the cool evenings breeze is from him or not. You like to think it is.

·       Lots of cute photos. You take loads. He’s so photogenic. He’s always got such a happy genuine smile on his face. He’s got super long arms too, so he can always get the best angle.

·       He secretly loves you both walking together, and you holding onto/your arm linked with his. He loves the way you kind of fall forward when you laugh, placing a hand on his as you do so. He’ll always flash you a half smile.

·       The first time you had sex in the shower was when you were taking a cold shower the try and cool yourself down. He naturally wanted to join you, because this fucking heat can fuck off. Long story short, a bit of teasing, led to him fucking you against the wall of your shower. The shower didn’t cool you down at all. In fact, you were warmer in the shower than out of it.

·       Lazy sex on the sofa too. He loves watching you ride his cock. He loves running his hands up your side, as you slowly ride his cock and savour every moment.

Havik:

·       Is the weather making everyone uncomfortable? He had no idea. He fucking did, because he’s living for the chaos. He’s also used to this weather. Chaosrealm is either baking hot or extremely cold. So, he’s literally chilled with this. Why is everyone panicking? He’s sat there in sunglasses and drinking a Pina Colada. Such a little shit.

·       He’s a hot mess all the time. But summer makes him an even hotter mess. You’ve never seen someone give less of a fuck till you met him. Great thing about Havik, he doesn’t give two fucks about anything. He’s so laidback. You don’t want to go out because it’s too warm? That’s fine. You want to go out and get wine drunk? He’s got two hands to carry two bottles. Whatever you want to do.

·       Relaxed drinks in your garden, he’s burning the food on the grill, your neighbours are telling him to put a shirt on, because you don’t have a fence. Everyone is having a great time.

·       He lives for terrible BBQs. He loves the disappointment more than the food. Your parents aren’t who this fucking behemoth in the most chaotic Hawaiian shirt is. No one is going to tell him his shirt is gawdy, because he’s so fucking tall.

·       He knows all the lyrics to ‘We didn’t start the fire’ which is a skill and slightly concerning.

·       Extremely good at limbo… too good. You’re watching as people’s faces switch from whimsical whimsy to fucking shocked. You’re sure someone was sick. Lives for the chaos.

·       He hates going outside for long periods of time. His face itches and it’s too warm to wear everything normally. Badly. Loves Halloween though, because people always compliment how great his ‘Costume’ and makeup is.

·       You’ve had a few comments on how handsome he is and laid back he is. He doesn’t get the ‘handsome’ thing, he prefers his face, when half of it’s you know, missing.

·       He loves Summer and how warm it is. When you ask why, he admits ‘It’s because Hotaru will be miserable’ And then he’ll smile. Summer is his Christmas. Because Hotaru is miserable.

·       When you can’t sleep, he’s awake, you’re not sure he needs to sleep. But he’s awake. You’ll have long chats, and, you both end up sat on your Livingroom floor, playing trivial pursuit. You’re sort of surprised by how much random knowledge he knows.

·       He’ll go on walks with you. This is where he met his first goose. He fucking loves them. What are these hate filled, angry creatures? Why does he want an army of them? When one hisses at him and falls in the river, he’s so happy. The circle of Chaos goes on.

·       Loves the beach. Because there’s loads of water. He fucking loves it. Ready to jump in as soon as he sees you. Pulls you in and you both swim for ages. He loves watching the waves crash against the shore with you, your head on his shoulder, whilst he draws circles… or squiggles on your leg.

·       Summer sex with him is so easy going. You’re sure you always end up fucking him in your car more than usual. You’re down to fuck on the way back from a day out? Fucking pull over, he’s good to go.

·       Don’t let him drive. He can’t drive.

·       Havik fucks hard and he once broke your headboard with his grip… and two fingers. But that’s fine, he just put them back together all good.

Tomas Vrbada Smoke:

·       He’s not a fan of this shit. He’s not overly bothered about the heat, it’s his hair. It’s sticking to his back and he doesn’t like it. Has asked Bi-Han for a hug. He just wants to feel cold.

·       Queue the manbun. He’s not cutting his hair. He loves it too much. So, hair is up and tied back. Which only elevates his hipster status… and makes him look that little bit hotter. Burns hotter than the weather.

·       He’ll always put on sunscreen. He burns very easily. Way too easily. No tan. Just burns. He does get a slight dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose. He’s not overly keen on them… but you think their cute. He starts to like them a little bit more when you remark how cute they are… and when you run your finger over them.

·       He’ll love doing something a little adventurous in summer. Which surprises you. He’s normally pretty introverted and wanting to relax and lounge. He’ll love doing something like hiking in the hills or taking long walks along a river. He just lives strolling, hand in hand, if it’s not too warm, and chatting genuine shit.

·       Imagine: Smoke, grey short-sleeved t-shirts, some cropped jeans, a good pair of hiking boots (Probably timberlands, the hipster) and a grey flannel jacket wrapped around his waist. Fucking hell. I need a fan!

·       Cute dates to cafes, where you both either talk about what you’re reading, or you both go to read. Said café dates can also be in the park with a takeaway ice coffee. Smoke is a hipster, fight me on this. You’re both looking up at the sky, laid arm on arm, head to head, whilst watching the clouds go by. You love moments like this and you both feel so content.

·       If you can ride a bike and are into that shit. He wouldn’t be opposed to having a bike ride, either along a canal or river. Somewhere that’s got a nice even off-road trail, with shade, nice scenery and is easy going. He’ll always make sure to pack lots of snacks, water and also sunscreen. Lots of sunscreen. He’ll plan a huge day out for you both, with lots of stops to see sights along the way. It’s all going great until he gets a bug in his mouth. Then he remembers why he hates the outdoors.

·       If gets too warm, you’re both going to the Lin Kuei temple. Smoke doesn’t care. You can live his room. He’s got a kettle and plenty of cup of noodles. Kuai thinks it’s nice that Smokes found someone. Bi-Han teases, because what kind of older brother would he be? Bi-Han totally views Smoke as a younger brother. He comes up with a cute ship name and he makes sure everyone refers to you both by it.

·       Loves the beach. Loves drinking iced tea at the beach. He’s under a big umbrella though. Sat in the shade, sipping his tea, reading his book, looking absolutely fine as fuck. People fall into ditches watching him lounge around. Bi-Han wanted to come with you both. Suns out guns out. He totally throws a bucket of water on him, saying he needs to cool the fuck down. And throws the bucket at him. Only to proceed to fall flat on his face.

·       Relaxed afternoon drinks at some hipster bar. He’s drinking an IPA. He doesn’t give a shit what you think… he really does. But it’s too warm for a hot chocolate.

·       He’s not overly fond of sex if it’s really warm. But saying that, on those cooler evenings, he’ll love just having you ride his cock. It’s soft, gentle, with a lot of touches and caresses. He loves you and loves spending time with you. He’ll also love the sight of your body in the moonlight. That slight summer breeze cooling you both down. The sound of the city below you, drowning out the moans.

Kabal:

·       Pre-Burn Kabal is so hyped for summer. The moment that barometer or the weather says it’s slightly warm. That’s it. He’s wearing cropped shorts, showing off those finely tuned calves, and wearing a vest that may as well not be a vest, because side-boob.

·       He totally as a duck barometer on his desk, that turns yellow when it’s supposed to be warm. ‘Sorry Kano, can’t work, Mr Quack says it’s going to be sunny. You know what that means’ Queue everyone sighing, because they know their in for a month of awful outfits.  

·       You notice he slows down a lot in the summer. ‘Babe, papa is out of shape’ is the most uttered phrase for him. He’s used to the heat, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be speedy. He wants to savour every moment of his favourite season, with his favourite person.

·       He’s a mix of lazy and energised. He’ll want to go for long walks in the park, the woods, the river, the beach. But he’ll also want to lounge around in his underwear, AC on, whilst you both watch shit TV and binge watch bad films.

·       Drives at 2 am in the morning, because he wants a really cold drink, and he knows this place that does really good slurpees. Queue, some very bad summer music. If you have to listen to ‘Steal My Sunshine’ One more fucking time, you’re going to scream. The slurpee is pretty good.

·       He’ll also tease your thighs on the way back home. Which leads to you giving him a blowjob whilst he drives. Which leads to him having to pullover and fuck you in the backseat. Lord have mercy he can’t cope.

·        He’s really good at BBQ you’re so surprised. You both have two people BBQs, you’re both sipping on cocktails, having fun, listening to terrible music. Annoying your neighbours who don’t want to hear his shit music. He’ll love spinning you around and picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you back inside. Just so you can make out on the couch.

·       Prank calling Kano at 2 in the morning. With very unfunny jokes. But it’s funny, because it’s Kano and it’s winding him up.

·       Nothing better than walking into the living room and seeing a near fully naked Kabal on the sofa. Sprawled out, glistening skin, playing on his Playstation. Glasses on and a lazy smile. God.

·       If you wear shorts, he’s going to be very distracted. Loves your ass in them. And will always give it a discreet and cheeky squeeze. He’ll always lean in to whisper and tease you, about what he’s going to do when you both get back.

·       Going to the beach or swimming is always fun. He’ll totally drag you into the pool and splash you.

·       He’s so glad his hair is fairly short. Because who’s got the time in this heat.

·       Cute dates to diners and relaxed drinks on the kitchen floor. Because it’s cool, and you can both eat ice cream from the tub.

·       Post burns everything is different.

·       I still headcanon he’s not a massive fan of his body and his skin is hypersensitive to the heat.

·       He’ll love you rubbing sunscreen affectionately onto his skin, or maybe rubbing a balm to try and ease it. If you’re whispering sweet nothings, or how much you love his body, whilst doing this, it’ll make him so fucking happy. He wants to feel loved.

·       Sometimes, the gentle rubs, turn into teasing rubs, and then into needful grabs. Which leads to some pretty intimate and passionate sex. Lots of body worship and lots of caresses.

·       He will want to stay in more in Summer. His skin will feels like it’s on fire and it won’t be comfortable. He will not dress casually in the summer when out in public. But when that confidence returns, he’ll be back to wearing next to nothing on the sofa.

Bi-Han:

·        He can handle this better than Kuai. Or so he says. He hates it really. He fucking hates this warmth and this weather. He wants to be cold. You’ve caught him threatening to climb into the fridge or the chest freezer.

·        Endearing whines from him. He loves the excuse however, that gets to lounge around in next to nothing. Queue you coming back from work to see him on your couch, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Complaining that he’s melting. He knew he was hot, but he didn’t think he was this hot! You hate and love that joke.

·        He’s eaten all your ice cubes, ice cream and ice lollies. He’s trying to cool down, but nothing is working. When you suggest maybe going to back to Arctika, he’s not down for that. He wants to stay here with you… that and going back, would confirm to Kuai that he was right and Bi-Han was wrong. He ain’t having that shit!

·        He’s constantly taking ice cold baths and showers. But nothing is helping. But on the bright side, you’ve got an unlimited supply of ice cubes. He sees yours are melting, boom, have some more.

·        He does manage to lower the temperature of your house, but he really has to focus, and he hates his concentration face. Kuai makes him look really majestic, Bi-Hans looks confused, sad and angry all rolled into one. He ain’t a fan of it.

·        He does love spending time with you though. He’ll love wrapping his arms around you out in public. Barely anyone knows he’s the Grandmaster of The Lin Kuei so why the fuck does it matter?

·        He’ll love going on cute bar dates, he looks pretty fucking FINE in a suit. All dressed up, looking like a whole three course meal. He’ll love sitting on a balcony, with some good food and a few glasses of wine.

·        Ultimate tease. His hands are cooler than any drink, and he’s an obsession with your legs in summer. He’ll love running a hand up and down your thighs, cheekily squeezing your ass in shorts. He’s very discreet, which makes you call him a Ninja, he’ll wrinkle his nose at that. He’s no ninja, he’s just good at been discreet.

·        He’s also a fan of sitting on the kitchen floor because it’s cool. You’re both listening to music in your kitchen, sat on the floor, eating ice cream and drinking frozen drinks.

·        Summer sex for Bi-Han involves a lot of him surprising you with some sweet kisses. Which get heated. Very heated. He’ll end up picking you up, placing you on your kitchen counter and helping you get rid of some layers. The counters cool against your skin, and he’s still pretty cool, so it’s all round refreshing.

·        He loves the beach. Not only because he loves showing off his physique, but you look cute and he likes the thought of the water been cool.

·        Water is saltier than he is. But he doesn’t give a shit. He can swim pretty well, and he’s soon out pretty far. It’s so good to finally be cold.

·        Low-key drags Smoke and Kuai with you both to the beach. Smoke is chilling, vibing with his book and the little sandcastle version of the temple he built. Kuai is fucking miserable.

·        Bi-Han will chuck you into the sea if you ask. If you want to be Yeeted, he will yeet you as far as you want to go. He’ll also playfully push you off the pier and jump in after you.

·        Small kisses in the water, his arms around your waist.

Kuai Liang (Sub Zero):

·        He still hates this. Nothing has changed. Summer can go fuck itself. He handles the complaints better than Bi-Han but he doesn’t handle the heat better. The only upside, he gets to spend some quality time with you. With no Bi-Han interrupting. Because he’s the worst.

·        He still doesn’t let on how bad he’s feeling it. He’s there, stoic, teeth gritted, whilst you’re having lunch. You decide to surprise him with a cold bath, the AC on the lowest setting, and ice in the bath. You leave him a note saying ‘Surprise and enjoy’ he fucking loves you. His heart actually may do a backflip.

·        When you get back, he’s less teeth gritted and more relaxed. He’ll take your hands in his and bring you in for a very soft kiss. You’re in your apartment so no one can see. It’s all cool!

·        He still tries to dress in his Grandmaster gear. He’s trying to remain stoic and trying his hardest to be his usual self. You remind him, that no one but you can see him in your apartment.

·        He will bite the bullet eventually and will shed his upper half of clothes. He’s currently sat in the comfy pair of short joggers you bought him. He’s a Grandmaster but he’s going to melt unless he changes. This is no different than when he’s in his relaxing gear back at the temple.

·        Your neighbours are in for a treat. When he wakes up, does his morning meditation in front of the window… only to realise the curtains and door are open, your neighbours are watering their flowers, and they are just stood there. Staring. Wondering how one man can be so chiselled and fine looking. Que him, leaning over to close the curtains. ‘Y/N. Did you open the curtains whilst I was meditating?’ ‘Yeah, why?’ ‘I don’t think your neighbours appreciate seeing me’ Oh, if only he fucking knew.

·        His bonus for living through his own personal living hell, you’re dressed in your cute summer clothes, and you constantly want to be close to him in your apartment. He does love how close you are to him. He loves when you’re relaxing on the sofa, and your head is on his shoulder. He will watch you from the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging on his lips. Just as his arm snakes around you more.

·        He doesn’t drink a lot. He isn’t against it. But then you introduce him to a Long Island Iced Tea. He can’t taste the tea but it’s pretty nice. He’ll love lounging with you on your balcony, watching as the evenings sky bleeds into the nights sky.

·        He’ll tell you about the constellations as a refreshing breeze washes over you.

·        He’ll love going for walks with you. He loves been out and exploring more of Earth in a more relaxed way. He’s been to many places, but they’ve always been mission related.

·        He may not be able to last long with the heat, but he does love wandering around the Forests and woods. He’ll spout random facts about the wildlife and fauna you pass.

·        Sex with Kuai when it’s warm is often difficult. He’s feeling flustered by the warmth and struggling. You do offer to run him a cold shower. He’ll sit there, asking if you wish to join him. You’re not going to pass that up. It’ll start innocent, with him just holding your body. Musing how he’s missed your touch.

·        A few kisses later and you’ve got him all flustered again. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on, when you slowly sink to your knees and take his cock into your mouth. At first, he’s like ‘Y/N, we can’t do this in the shower’ But, even all of that stoic training can’t help him here. His moans betray him, hands hovering over your hair, before you tangle them for him. This leads to him showing you some of that strength of his and fucking you against the wall of the shower.

·        After, you’re both panting messes, and you hear him chuckle. He comments on how he guesses the weather has bonuses. That’s as horny of a comment you’ll ever get from him.

Kung Lao:

·        He’s actually fine in this heat, why do you ask? Kung Lao can handle heat, who said he couldn’t? Their lying. Okay, they’re not lying. He hates it. He fucking hates it. He’s confused at how Raiden can be stood there, completely unphased, and Fujin can be there with long fucking hair. They are winding him, and he knows it.

·        Liu Kang is fine. But he’s fucking not. Of course, he’s fucking fine with the heat.

·        He does love spending the time with you though. I mean, you look pretty cute in those shorts, and he loves how you smile and your so giddy about going out places.

·        His arrogance will be the death of him. Death will be caused by melting. He won’t admit how much he’s not overly fond of the heat. But when you see him staring into the fridge, you know he’s too warm. You suggest going for a swim and going to the beach.

·        Best idea in the fucking world. He can swim pretty well, so he’s dragging you into the water, before you can even pull off your clothes. He’s like ‘Lets go Y/N. Lets go.’ He’ll splash you, like the dick he is, he can give but can’t take when you splash him back.

·        Will feign falling over, only to have you rush over to him. He’ll then pick you up and spin you around and launch you into the water. You both piss about far too much. Lord Fujin is smiling down, so happy and proud, Lord Raiden is face palming so hard. The Elder Gods couldn’t give a fuck, their too warm as well.

·        He’ll always insist you take photos, bonus if it’s a polaroid so he can take the photos back. He will continuously show Liu Kang, Raiden and Fujin. He acts like the heat wasn’t that bad… Fujin knows the truth but he’s not going to say shit.

·        He’ll love going for small evening walks with you, just as the suns starting to set, you’re both strolling beside a rive. A small breeze is blowing past you. When you’re not looking, he’s thanking Fujin for been a bro and having his back. ‘Thank you…’ ‘What was that Kung Lao?’ ‘Nothing Y/N. You look very pretty. How’s that breeze?’

·        He loves the sunshine though and will want to make the most of going out in it. Que you both spending as much time as possible outside. Whether you’re just lounging, walking or exploring.

Sindel: (The Smut Goblin will do you right, since 11 just retconned you.)

·        Outworld is naturally warmer than Earthrealm. She knows this and understands that it may be hard to cope. She’s there, looking ethereal, not a single hair out of place, barely breaking a sweat. Whilst you’re boiling. She thinks it’s cute.

·        She’ll always shake her head when you deny how warm you are. She’ll make sure you’ve always got fresh water and are kept cool. If it’s warmer than usual, she’ll make sure you’ve got baggy clothes to keep you cool and make sure you’re okay.

·        She’s not mean by any standard, but she will tease you ever so slightly about it. If you’re slightly red from the heat, she will tease you about it. ‘Y/N, blushing to see me already.’ Will tease you discreetly. And she will always remark about how she didn’t know she had this effect on you.

·        She’s discreet. She can’t be embarrassing Kitana like that. She ain’t about that life. Kitana fully supports your relationship. She thinks it’s nice her mother has found someone to spend her life with. Shao Kahn who? Who’s that dick? Never heard of Shags Cars.

·        She’ll personally request you join her when she goes to try and cool down at the warmest part of the day. The pool is surrounded by blooms and lush scenery, scenery you didn’t know existed in Outworld. Because, it does look barren.

·        You’re not arguing that it’s a mirage, until she strips down and asks you to join her. Everything is pleasant and cool. She asks you all about Earthrealm whilst you’re chilling in the cool water.

·        She wants to know more about you and yourself. And what better place than whilst taking a leisurely dip.

·        She’ll love lounging around on one of the balconies in the evening. Wine in hand, whilst you’re leant against her. She’ll plant a gentle kiss on your head, before asking if you’re comfortable. Very caring, because you know, she’s actually a caring person. NetherRealm seemingly forgot this shit. Let me remind them.

·        Sex with Sindel is fucking WILD. She can go from a pillow princess (Queen?) to a fucking dom in seconds. One minute she’s sat on your face, trying to stifle a moan, less anyone hear. The next, she’s got you flipped over, pinned down, whilst she attacks your cunt with her very skilled tongue.

·        You forget about the heat of the day and focus on the heat that’s pooling in your stomach for a few moments. Once you’re spent and wasted, she’ll always remark ‘I told you I could make you forget the heat my dear’

Geras. 

·        For a man that has lived an eternal life and has lived through the heats of many summers. He’s never got to experience them because of ‘Can I see the manager’ Kronika. Fuck her.

·        He can cope with the heat of the day and is pleasantly surprised when there is a refreshing breeze. He’s so happy to be able to enjoy the summer and the sunshine, without the Titan of complaints, bossing him about.

·        He’s blissfully unaware of how mortals struggle with heat.

·        When you go on nice walks, to show him more of Earthrealm, and so you can both take cute photos. He’s walking miles head, happy and curious about everything. ‘Isn’t this nice Y/N. What a refreshing breeze… Y/N?’ Turns around to see you in a puddle on the ground. Que him turning back and picking you back up.

·        He loves experiencing different cultures and will love you exploring different parts of your city and trying new things. Kronika was a bitch and didn’t give him any downtime.

·        He’s loving this new lease on life, the fact he doesn’t have to go on bullshit missions for the Elder God of bullshit and family problems.

·        He’ll love cuddling up with you, whilst you both chat, and he tells you all the stories of his life. You name a time period, and he has lived through and experienced it. Bonus if you’re doing a history degree.

·        ‘Actually, my boyfriend was there and that’s not what happened. Give me my 100% on my test’

·        He’ll be a little confused why you always take photos of him at first. Until you explain you’re creating memories. Then he’ll be constantly posing for your photos with you. He takes the cutest selfies. He’s got such a warm smile and some gorgeous eyes. You’re the envy of all of your friends.

·        When you suggest going to the beach, he’s all for it, he loves the sound of the waves and finds it soothing.

·        He makes the most impressive sandcastles. It puts everyone else’s to shame on the beach. He’s not even trying which is the best part.

·        Geras is a tall guy. So, when he wades out into the ocean, you’re stuck behind in a bit of a shallower end. He wants you to come with him, so you’re getting picked up, and he’s got you on his shoulders. Your toes skimming the waters edge. He loves hearing your laugh, and you swear you hear him chuckle when you fall in.

·        He often remarks how he’s no longer eternally alone. And it makes your heart skip a beat.

·        He loves life in the slow lane, time is no object to him, so why not take things slow?

·        He’ll prefer slow and passionate sex during the warmer months. He knows you’re warm and he wants to make sure you’re okay. So slower and softer sex is on the cards. But if you want him to fuck you rough, then he is down for that, and the man has skill.

·        Geras needs a hug and I think we need to give him one.

[oh-my-may]

City Lights - Spiderman! Jeno

Okay so I wrote this in 2018 back when I mainly wrote for kpop on this blog and I found this in my drafts... I read through it and honestly it was a little too good for me not to post it, I couldn’t just let it rot without anyone ever seeing it... So here you go. Also I’m a sucker for both lee jeno and Spiderman, so it is no wonder I wrote this and poured my everything into it back then :D Enjoy!

genre: friends to lovers, fluff? A little bit of action, I guess

pairing: Lee Jeno (NCT) x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruises etc., sexual assault (kinda, not too much though)

word count: 5.7K

The same people, the same classes, the same routine, the same city. Everything was just how it always used to be. You didn’t complain, though, it was fine. You just wished there was a little more excitement in the big city of New York that everyone knew.

And so you looked out of the window, bored to death, as your math teacher was writing exercises on the black board. It was not like you hated math, it was rather that math seemed to hate you. You were seriously trying your best but you and mathematics were just an impossible pairing.

„Hey, need help?“, Lee Jeno’s voice carried through your thoughts and awoke your from your daydreams about adventures and action.

„I was just dreaming, but yeah, please.“, you pleaded and Jeno gave you his all too famous smile.

Jeno was your savior. At least when it came to math. Whenever you looked especially clueless in class he made it his task to whisper some answers or important formulas you might need. He has quite the good memory when it came to stuff like that. Other than that, you usually didn‘t hang with him. He has his small group of friends and they sometimes go out together but they usually keep to themselves. However, everyone swooned over Lee Jeno because he was a sports ace and one of the schools most important basketball players. He also had this smile, where his eyes turn into crescends and everything else around him suddenly seemed unimportant when he gave you that smile. The only thing that made him seem odd occasionally was his particular liking of repairing and fixing things, or in general just doing things with his hands. He was often found in the art class room after school where he worked on whatever project.

But generally, Jeno Lee had everyone wrapped around his fingers, even if he didn’t notice that. And it was not a big deal at all because he was not an annoying guy or one of those bad boys or a class clown. Lee Jeno was just horribly normal and you loved and hated him for it, because this school was filled with enough of weird kids.

~

At lunch you sat with your friends, like you always did, right next to the table of Jeno and his friends. Your friends were talking about the usual – dumb homework, weird teachers, the latest school gossip – as you just listened to them while eating your sanwich and salad. But then one of them got a notification on her phone and it was a news article on the crime rate of the city and how it apparently increased heavily.

„Honestly, this is horrible. They write that the police is totally overstrained because they don’t have enough men.“, she explained after reading the article. Suddenly everyone turned serious and quiet, a worried expression was plastered on everyone’s face.

„They only seem to focus on the big crimes and important accidents such as big car accidents or bank robbery while the rate of sexual assaults and rapes literally doubled over the last year.“, one of your friends added, looking around the cafeteria.

„Honestly, none of us should go around the city after dark. At least not alone. It seems to be far too dangerous.“, you said, putting your sandwich back on your plate, suddenly not hungry anymore. This is not what you wanted when you asked for more action in this city.

Your friends agreed and then fell into a heated conversation on superheroes and solutions while you kind of clinked yourself out of the conversation and got lost in your thoughts again, your gaze lazily wandering around the room.

That however stopped when your eyes landed on Jeno. Just like you, he didn’t seem to have a lot of interest in his friends‘ conversation and instead looked over to your table. Maybe you were wrong but it seemed like he was listening to your conversation and he probably has for a while now. But then Jaemin, one his friends, ruffled his hair and motioned for Jeno to get up and follow him as everyone was now leaving their table. You just sighed quietly, trying to find back into the conversation of your friends.

~

The next day, you were alone in math. Jeno didn’t sit in his usual spot behind you, nor did he sit anywhere in class. His friend Renjun told the teacher that Jeno didn’t feel well and therefore stayed home sick today.

It was okay. It was just that now you needed to pay attention to the teachers words as you had no Jeno who would tell you tasks you might have missed. You still stunk at math, but you figured maybe you’d get better if you actually paid attention from now on. Especially now, in your senior year, you kind of felt the need to pay attention and be a good student. And so your tried your best.

Excited about telling Jeno about your recent realization, you happily walked into class the next day just to see that he wasn’t here today, either. You nodded slowly as you thought that maybe Jeno was actually sick, even though he never seemed to miss one single lesson. It was weird; you never once remembered Jeno to be sick at all, he was always there, sitting on the desk behind you, making small talk with your or telling you dumb jokes.

On the fourth day, you began to worry. Jeno was still sick at home, at least that was what Renjun kept on telling the teacher. And she was just nodding and smiling at him, asking if Jeno will be alright soon and come back. Of course she also had a weak spot for him, he was one of her best students. The only one that honestly seemed to be annoyed by Jenos absence was the coach, who desperately asked Jaemin every lesson when Jeno will come back and if he’ll make it to the game on the weekend. Jaemin always just ends up stuttering that he doesn’t know, because the coach always grabs his collar and presses him to the wall while talking to him, then releases him.

Today you decided to sit down in the gym and watch the teams practice as you had a free period. Again, the coach was asking around if anyone has seen Jeno today. Still, not a single sign of a comeback. It was the Friday before the match and the coach seemed even more stressed than before. He threatened Jenos friends, Jaemin, Chenle and Haechan who all were in the team as well – with a raised index finger. „Tell Jeno that if he isn’t here tomorrow I’ll raise hell for the whole team. No one stays home sick for a whole goddamn week!“ The boys just nodded quickly and then got back to playing. You closed your textbook and watched them practice. Maybe you’ll attend your first ever High School basketball match tomorrow, you thought.

~

Unfortunately, you couldn’t. Your mom had the genius idea of making you look after your younger siblings as she and your dad went out to eat. It was horrible. Your friends didn’t even answer your texts. After your parents arrived again, you instantly took the next bus and ran into the gym, only to be greeted by the leaving masses.

„Y/N!“, your best friend shouted as she saw you. She instanty grabbed your wrist and you followed the people that were now going outisde.

„How was the match?“, you asked as it was the question that burned your tongue the most.

„I guess it was okay.“, she simply replied while trying to watch over the heads of the people. „How can I know, I don’t understand anything about basketball. Jeno was there, however. Apparently Coach Johnsons threat worked. But he wasn’t in a good condition at all, Y/N.“, she then said in a serious tone.

„What do you mean ‚he wasn’t in a good condition‘?“ The cold air of the evening was hitting your face as you went through the door that led to the parking lot of the school.

She turned to you, frowning. „He wasn’t concentrated on the game at all. He also looked horrible, there were scratches and bruises all over his face. It was obvious that he had tried to cover them but not with a lot of success. I mean, it did look hot but like – I don’t know why he stayed home all week but it definetely wasn’t because of a fever or the flu or whatever.“, she sighed, a concerned look in her eyes as she looked around the parking lot. „My brother’s picking me up, you can drive with us.“

~

You spent the whole weekend at home as your parents said it would be more safe for you. You didn’t complain, though, you had a lot to think about. You also had homework for math and for the first time in forever you considered actually doing them.

But you also had a little hope. When Jeno was back for the match he’ll probably also be back in school, right?

And you were right. The next Monday Jeno was sitting on his seat behind yours. However, you weren’t greeted by his bright smile and a soft ‚Good Morning‘. Instead, there was silence and the dark blue hood of his sweatshirt that was pulled deeply into his face. Still, you could see some bright red scratches on his chin.

For the quiet ‚Hey‘ you gave him you got a murmured ‚Hi‘ back. The teacher seemed happy to have Jeno back and she celebrated it with a suprise test that just got her groans from her students. This time though, Jeno didn’t bother to help you. It was not like you needed it since it was about stuff you did last week but still, it would have been nice to hear his voice. But he remained quiet. After class ended, Jeno was the first one to leave, which was even more unusual behaviour of his.

At lunch, Jeno wasn’t sitting with his friends. They were alone and you took your chance to talk to them. „Hey, Jaemin.“, you asked and the brown haired boy quickly turned his head to you.

„Y/N, right?“

„Yes. I was just wondering where Jeno is? And why he left class so fast? I wanted to talk to him about some of the exercises we did in math today.“ That was a lie. Well, not exactly a lie but also not completely the truth.

„I think he’s crafting again. He’s been like that the whole day, I think he’s just busy.“, he answered and you could see that he said the truth.

„You should go and ask him yourself some time, Y/N. He doesn’t really tell us the truth, either.“, Renjun threw into the conversation and smiled at you a little. You nodded, focusing on your food again. You thought that it would be best to visit Jeno in the art classroom after school, if he was still there.

You waited a few minutes before you headed down the hallways to the art classroom. Most students had already left school when you passed lockers and the last jocks that went to practice on your way. Much to your surprise the classroom was unlocked and the door was even opened a little. You got a glimpse of Jeno hovering over a table, trying to repair something small, as it seemed.

„Hey, Jeno.“, you said as you opened the door a little more and stepped into the room.

Jeno flinched the second you did so, instantly clearing away everything from the table with a wide movement of his arm, hiding the thing he worked on behind his back whilst he turned around. „Y/N!“

You seemed to have truly surprised him, as his expression told you exactly this. Without the hood covering his face and in exposure of the daylight shining through the windows you could actually see all the bruises on his face now. There was one on his right cheek bone and another one above his left eyebrow, a big scratch on his left cheek and a ton of tiny grazes all over his chin and forehead and it almost seemed like he had a healing black eye.

You gulped and whispered a small „Oh my god.“ while Jeno quickly put on the hood again. „How can I help you?“, he asked and then cleared his throat.  You tried to read anything in his expression but even if Jeno was trying to hide something, he was defintely good at covering it. The only thing that was different was that he didn’t smile as much, which broke your heart a little more than you wanted to admit.

„I just …“, you stopped for a second, before letting your coverage fall. „I just wanted to check if you’re okay, you seemed a bit off the whole day.“, you confessed as you nervously folded your hands in front of your body.

„That’s very cute of you but … uh ... I’m fine, really. No need to worry.“ The words he said however didn’t convey his body language as the corners of his mouth twitched nervously and his hands were shaking.

„Really? These bruises seem to be quite bad, if you ask me.“, you tried again.

He unconsciously raised his hand up to one of the bruises but then quickly let it fall again. „Oh, those? Last week I got into a really bad street fight and it was honestly not nice, that’s why I needed some time to recover. However, I’m feeling better now, really. I guess it just looks worse than it is.“

You nodded, realizing that he won’t tell you the truth now. „You know … You missed a lot in math last week. Maybe I could explain the subject matter of last week to you when you’re free?“, you then offered, trying to give him a little smile.

He replied with one himself and made your heart jump with it. „That’d actually be quite nice. I totally failed that test today to be honest.“, he said, brushing his hand hrough his hair.

„Cool, then … When are you free?“

„Tomorrow after school? Like … 4pm I’d say?“, he suggested, scratching his neck .

You smiled to yourself at this action that you occasionally saw on him. He looked really cute doing it. „Yeah, 4pm sounds perfectly fine.“

~

The next day, Jeno left school after math. The whole lesson he seemed a little impatient, he constantly kept rocking his chair und you felt his feet nervously tap on your chair. He almost managed to make you nervous too and you wanted to ask Jeno about what was wrong but he instantly raced out of the classroom after the bell rang and after he didn’t attend any class, as your friend told you.

You almost saw your ‚date‘ in danger, but you still left home at 3.30 pm to be at Jenos‘ on time. You weren’t even sure if it was a date – actually it was just you helping him catch up with math – but you were alone with Jeno and that idea kinda made your stomach turn in excitement. Right now, you didn’t want to think that maybe Jeno just saw the girl in his math class in you.

Quickly after you knocked you were greeted by a middle-aged woman with black hair that was held in a lazy bun. A hand towel in her hand was busy drying a saucepan. She was smiling softly at the sight of you. „Hi, how can I help you?“

You pressed the books you held in front of your body a little tighter to your chest. „Hi, I’m Y/N. Jeno invited me over to catch up on math.“

The woman quickly raised an eyebrow and let both of her hands sink. „Well, I’m May, Jenos‘ aunt. Unfortunately he left 30 minutes ago but I’m sure he’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Please come in.“ She stepped aside to let you walk in.

„His room is upstairs, the last room in the hallway, you can wait there. Do you need anything? Cookies, tea?“

A little swamped with her hospitality you stuttered out „Tea would be nice, thank you.“

You waited in the kitchen until the tea was ready and then went upstairs, following Aunt Mays instructions.

Jenos room was quite messy but you didn’t expect less. You awkwardly sat down on his bed, the only clear space you could find. You dropped your bag onto the floor and put the cup of tea on the nightstand. You really were not the type to snoop around but there literally was a big wall right in front of you on which a hundred pictures and documents were pinned. There were pictures of different kinds of spiders and then spider bites and a lot of old documents from like 10 years ago. All of them were written by or adressed to a man whom you could only identify as Jenos dad. In between all those pictures you found pieces of different fabrics pinned on the wall as well and then there was red string in between, connecting different pictures and notes he wrote himself. You didn’t understand any of what was written on there but before you could get to at least trying to understand it, there was a loud noise coming from the window. It almost sounded like something dropped onto the fire escape outside of the window, so you went to check. But nothing was there, just a cat that was walking around in the inner courtyard and surely didn’t just jump from the roof.

„Y/N!“ Jeno opened the door and walked in the room. „I’m so sorry I forgot about our little math date, Mark needed my help with something.“, he explained breathlessly.

You nodded, still in surprise over his sudden appearance. „It’s okay, really.“, you said, sitting back down on the bed. You discovered new bruises on his face and pressed your lips together at the sight of it.

„I hope you didn’t had to wait too long.“ He kept on talking as he quickly took off his hoodie and dropped it to the floor. He walked over to what looked like the cupboard and opened it, searching for something else to wear. However the mirror that made out one side of the cupboard showed you that Jenos‘ shirt had several blood stains on it. You instantly got up and walked towards him, a more than worried expression covering your face. „Jeno, oh my god that … That looks horrible, someone needs to take care of that.“

Jeno held a new hoodie in his hand, his arms trying to cover his chest in defense. „No, Y/N, I’m fine, I swear- “

„Jeno no, don’t lie. Look at that, that’s fresh blood. What the hell happened?“ You stood in the middle of the room, hands fiddling nervously.

Jeno just shook his head in denial, not sure where he should lay his eyes on. „Y/N, really.“ He took a step into your direction and took your shaking hands in his. „I’m fine.“ His eyes found yours and fixated you, calmed you down. They were like a deep hole you fell into, like one of the rare nights where you sat on the rooftop and looked up into the night sky with a thousand stars shining down.

„Jeno, please.“, you begged in a desperate tone. „I won’t leave before you go to the hospital to let those check. Or at least let me look at them please. I know how to do that, my younger brother constantly needs someone to tend to his wounds.“

Jeno sighed, taking his hands down and letting yours go. „You really won’t give up, will you?“, he then chuckled, looking into the distance. „Okay, you do it then. I don’t have time for the hospital.“

~

Much to your relief Jeno just rolled up his shirt instead of completely taking it off. However, the deep cut totally distracted you from the fact that Jeno was leaning half-naked in front of you.

You just constantly shook your head and murmured words of disbelief as you treated the wound. Jeno just flinched a few times, not saying a word the whole time. His head was leaned back the whole time and his eyes were closed, his hands resting crossed on his chest. You were almost sure he had fallen asleep and were about to leave, until he called you back. „Wait, please.“

When you turned around you saw that Jeno was looking at you with his head tilted in your direction and just one eye opened. „You forgot about math.“

You almost bursted out laughing at this normal question. „Okay.“, you nodded, sitting down on the desk chair, taking the notes out of your bag. You started talking about the subject matter while looking on your notes, but Jeno stretched out a hand and touched your knee. Surprised at the sudden touch you stopped, looking at him. There was a small smile on Jenos lips as he looked at you. „How can you tell me about this without me looking at the notes? Come closer, I won’t bite. Promise.“ Then he laughed for an unknown reason and you hesitantly rolled closer to the bed. So close that he felt your breath on his cheek and it would have been easy for yu to just lean on his shoulder while both of your hands were holding onto the notes.

It was actually quite realxing talking to him like that, even though you occasionally felt his gaze burn on your skin and his breath on your cheek and his hand that brushed yours - But then you were through with your notes and you left them on his totally overfilled desk before you got up to head home.

Jeno stood up as you did, watching your every move. „Thanks.“

„Hm?“

„Thank you. Thanks for not asking quastions and for treating the wound and explaining math to me, it helped me a lot. I mean it.“ His eyes told you the truth for once, but you were sure he was hiding a lot more in them. He just wasn’t willing to talk now.

You nodded slowly, a smile creeping up on your face. „No problem. It was a pleasure.“

Jeno laughed and handed you your bag, stepping a little closer to you. „Don’t forget that.“, he murmured. You suddenly realized how close he was and everything in your body began to tingle and burn in a sensational way you’ve never felt before. The excitement rushed through your whole body, pumping adrenaline into your veins in high expectation of what was about to happen. You felt your lips brush his and closed your eyes because the feeling was just way too good to be real, but your lips didn’t touch his again.

Jeno pulled back quickly, running his hands through his hair in a chaotic and confused manner. „I’m – I’m so sorry, Y/N, I just really can’t do this. Not now. Please believe me when I say that this is for your own good. I really like you it’s just that … Not at this time, okay? It’s better if you leave now. Again, I’m so sorry Y/N.“ And with that your turned and left, paralyzed by what just happened.

~

On the subway home you got a message in the groupchat of your friends – one of them had shared a link to an online article on ‚Spiderman – The man who saves our city?‘

With a raised eyebrow you leaned your head against the window and opened the article, suddenly curious as to what it’s about.

Apparently Spiderman was a superhero who swung through the city with something that remdinded people of spiderwebs. It was also his suit who resembled this feature. On a picture that was taken by the journalist who wrote this article you saw someone swinging from one building to the other on an almost invisible string. The suit he wore was completely blue and red and the mask covered his entire face, not giving a glimpse of the person wearing it. According to the article Spiderman supports the police by saving women from sexual assaults as well as he helped catch criminals. You smiled a little as you finished reading, thinking that someone finally heard your calls for some action and adventure.

You got off the sub and walked upstairs just to realize that it was already pretty dark out. Quitely cursing you thought of the fastest way home, which led you through several narrow alleys. You sighed in defeat as you started to walk home quickly. Even if there now was a  superhero in this city, you still were sure he couldn’t look over everyone every single minute.

A reliefed sigh escaped your lips as you arrived in the last dark alley without any incidents. You actually liked the darkness, but you preferred it when you were at home, sitting in front you window rather than walking through narrow streets.

You were just about to turn right when suddenly two men in their late twenties appeared right in front of you, slowly walking up to you. You gulped, stumbling backwards as you were hastily searching for something sharp in your bag. You thought that you needed at least something to defend yourself with. Unfortunately though, you couldn’t find anything.

„Hey sweetie.“ „Want some fun?“

You began to shake uncontrollablyas you felt as helpless as never before. A whimper left your mouth as one of them pushed you against the wall and laughed. Both of them held your trapped between them and the wall as they held your wrists so tight that it hurt. One of them laughed in your ear and you could smell a wave of alcohol that came from his mouth.

„Hey, what’s wrong with you guys?“

A voice from behind them suddenly caught their attention as they turned around. All you could see was someone standing there, clothed in something red and blue.

„Don’t have anything better to do than harass innocent girls, or what?“ The guy continued to mock them, earning unpleased growls from both men. They finally let go of your hands, but still took your view of your savior.

„Who are you?“, one of them asked, voice lurring from alcohol.

„Me? Oh, no one special. I’m who they call the Spiderman.“

You instantly felt relief in your body as you raised your eyebrows to see more. Just a second after both men gave weird noises from them as their hands were stuck to the wall with something that looked like spiderwebs. Spiderman motioned for you to walk to him and so you did, stumbling over the mens feet. Then you saw that their mouths were covered with the spiderwebs as well and you had to smile a little.

For a moment you just stood there in shock of what had just happened – or what almost could have happened.

„Hey are you … are you alright?“ Spiderman suddenly turned to you, waving one of his hands in front of your face.

You nodded slowly. „Yes, I guess so. Thank you, really. So much.“ You tried to give him a smile.

„It’s my job to save beautiful girls like you.“, Spiderman said, bowing. You blushed, not sure how to show him how grateful you where.

„Thanks, but seriously … I …“, overwhelmed by your feelings you quickly wrapped your arms around the superhero, mumbling a „Thank you“ into his chest, before quickly turning around and walking home, too shy to turn around again.

But Spiderman stayed there for a while before making sure that you got home safely, following your every move from the rooftops of NYC.

~

Your mom decided that it would be best for you to say home the next day after your experience. Not that you’d mind, though. A day off seemed to be exactly what you needed after everything that happened the day before at Jenos‘.

In the evening you sat at your desk, trying to concentrate on writing an essay for school. However, the words didn’t want to flow like they usually do, so you were welcoming everything that gave you an excuse for not writing. For example your friends who wouldn’t want to shut up about the fact that you met Spiderman and he literally saved you from sexual assault. Or the knocking on your window that almost made you drop your phone by accident.

You got up, checking what it was. As you opened your window and sat on the window-sill you saw how someone bent down to pick up new stones. „Hello?“

„Y/N!“

„Jeno? What are you doing here?“, you whisper-shouted at him, leaning far out the window.

„I was worried because you weren’t in school today. I also brought Pizza and Ice Cream and math homework.“ Jeno held up a basket, in which the said foods were placed in.

You giggled, hiding your face behind one hand. „I’ll open the front door for you, just wait a minute.“

„No! There’s no need for that.“, he explained, before grinning and then climbing up the house, using pipes and and the balcony as support. And before you could even blink, he stood right in front of you, still smiling.

„How did you do that?“, you said, still in utter shock of what he just did.

„Just like that.“, he chuckled and then shrugged, placing the basket on your desk. „Can we … Can we talk?“ The dark blue hoodie he wore was a big contrast to his pale skin and the healing red wounds on his handsome face.

„Of course Jeno. You even brought food.“, you smiled as you sat down on your bed.

„Maybe not here. Is there a way to get up on the roof of this building?“, he asked, looking around your room.

„Yeah sure, but I won’t climb the facade if that’s alright.“

~

It was a relatively lukewarm night for the fact that it was october. You both sat on a picnic blanket as you were munching on the pizza and later on the ice cream – you wondered how Jeno got both of it in your favorite type/flavor.

Turns out Jeno actually wanted to talk not only about math but also the happenings of the night before. After every tiny piece of Pizza and every scoop of Ice cream were exterminated, Jeno walked up to the railing and leaned against it, watching how the night slowly lay across the city. After a moment you followed him as he held his hand out for you to take. He pulled your forwards with so much power that you almost fell over. However he managed to prevent that.

„Sorry. Sometimes I have trouble controlling my strength.“, he quitely confessed.

„Oh really?“, you asked a little too high-pitched as your heart was still beating in your throat from all the adrenaline.

He just chuckled and then shook his head, making his fluffy hair float around for a second. You giggled and then everything got silent for a few minutes as you both enjoyed the night view of New York.

„This is beautiful.“, you then murmured, mesmerized by the beauty.

„Indeed. I love New York at dawn so much. I try to watch the sunset as often as I can.“, he agreed, looking over at you with that look in his eyes that had you freeze on the spot.

After that the conversation turned and you kind of talked about everything and nothing at the same time, laughing about stupid jokes and stories and then talking about your wishes and hopes for the future.

„Now tell me … Why were you not in school today? Were you not feeling well?“

You sighed, brushing a hand through your hair. „Well, kinda. My mom thought it would be best for me to stay home for a day after yesterday I almost got into a sexual harassment.“ When Jeno immediately turned his head to you, you shook yours. „No need to worry, a superhero called Spiderman had my back and saved me from anything bad that could have happened.“ A small smile formed on your lips at the memory of the young man in a red and blue suit.

Jeno laughed. „Spiderman? Who’s that? Sounds ridiculous, like a wannabe.“

„No! No no! He’s really cool! And he has those … strings that are like spiderwebs and … Wait, I’ll show you an article on my phone.“ You turned to get it as it was still laying on the blanket, but before you got even close to it, Jeno turned around and you felt something sticking on your back before you got twirled through the air and landed in Jenos arms, who just grinned widely. With widened eyes you looked down just to see one of these strings hanging on your body – Jeno had pulled you towards him with it.

„It … I …“, you stuttered as realization began to hit you. „Oh my god, it’s you! You are Spiderman! You are the guy with the spiderwebs and the suit!“, you laughed, feeling dumb and oblivious that you didn’t realize it before. „And all the wounds and bruises and scratches that -“

Jeno cut you off by laughing himself and then pressing his lips to yours, first a little powerful but then he got gentle and wrapped one of his arms around your waist as the other lovingly caressed your cheek. You stayed like that for a while, both smiling into the kiss at times, melting in each others arms.

Then you heard a rustling and just seconds later the police radio Jeno had went off and announced something about a fugutive prisoner.

„I’m so sorry, Y/N, really. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.“, he apologized a million times as he slowly let go of you and put on the mask you’ve seen before. „I really am, Y/N, please believe me.“ His voice was now more muffled but you could still recognize it. You sighed a little desperate before leaning in once more to place a small kiss on his fabric covered cheek. „Good luck with saving the city, Jeno Lee.“

And then he jumped over the railing into the City Lights and all you could see was his silhouette swinging through the busy streets of Queens as the darkness lingered over the city.

[iam93percentstardust]

Thanks for Watching part 3

Hey everyone! Yesterday, I reached 1000 followers! I’m a little shocked and a little in awe and I certainly never thought I would have this many so thank you for following and listening to my ramblings. I have a couple things planned for this milestone but I don’t have the time to talk about all of them right now, so for now I thought it might be nice to update Thanks for Watching and let our boys finally get together :)

Also on ao3 here

~

Okay, so he’s known Tony for six months now. It’s not super weird that they’re still not dating right? He knows that Tony thinks he’s attractive—he says it in just about every video that Steve’s in now—and he’s pretty sure that Tony likes the him under the hotness too—or at least, Tony makes sure to reassure him of that after every video—and he definitely thinks Tony’s pretty great.

But they’re still not dating.

He knows it frustrates both Bucky and Rhodey, who ask them about it at least once a week. He’s pretty sure it frustrates Tony’s fans too who always squee about them in the comments. He thinks that’s the term Tony uses.

Squee? Squeezes? Squeegy? No, that can’t be right.

Whatever.

They’re always talking about how cute Steve and Tony are in the comments and wondering when they’re going to start dating. But, hey, Steve’s taking his time, okay? They say the best relationships are those built on a good, solid friendship and that’s what he’s building with Tony right now.

He’s not afraid, no matter what Bucky says.

He’s not.

He might be.

A little.

Maybe a little more than a little.

Okay, so maybe he’s terrified. It’s just that the more he gets to know Tony, the more he gets to see what an incredible, bright, vivacious man he is, the less he feels…worthy, maybe. He’s just Steve Rogers. He can barely keep up with whatever Tony’s chattering about and he wears grandpa pants to go out and he only has followers on any of his social media because of Tony’s shout out. What could he have to offer someone like Tony Stark?

He looks up from where he’s working on his latest commission—a portrait of someone’s wife for their twenty-sixth anniversary since that’s apparently the art one—to where Tony is at the other end of the workshop, doing a Q&A. He does them periodically, usually for subscriber milestones but sometimes for other reasons like an anniversary or a birthday or when he gets enough requests for another one.

“Stuckinmicanopy wants to know how Dum-E got his name,” Tony reads off the screen. In the corner, Dum-E perks up at the sound of his name. “You know, that’s a really good question and it’s one that I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about before. So back at MIT, when Rhodey-bear and I were first working on Dum-E’s programming, he was originally named Laundr because he was supposed to be a laundry bot since we didn’t like doing laundry. And who can blame us? Laundry was created by the devil. Anyway, so Dum-E was supposed to be a laundry bot but then he fell down the stairs like three times in a row and we couldn’t get the bug out of his programming so I called him a dummy and the name just stuck. The spelling thing happened because on Dum-E’s first birthday, we showed him Wall-E and he was infatuated.”

Steve, who has been watching Dum-E steadily trundle closer throughout Tony’s speech, warningly says, “Tony.”

Just in time, Tony turns to stop Dum-E from spraying him with the fire extinguisher. “Nothing’s even on fire, you useless bot,” he exclaims. “Go back to your corner. Go. Shoo. Off you go.”

He gives Steve an exaggeratedly confused look. Steve laughs and shrugs. “He must have heard his name,” he says.

“Must’ve,” Tony agrees. “Okay, next question. Ooh new one just popped up from bellesbagels: is Steve there with me? Yes, he is. Steve likes to come do his art stuff in the workshop because his roommate isn’t there and because I got him a really great easel for his birthday earlier this year. I would tilt the camera so you could all see him but he’s working on a surprise commission and he doesn’t want anyone to see it until it’s finished. Maybe if the next person asks really nicely, he’ll get up and come over here so you guys can say hi.”

“I’ll get up and go over there now,” Steve says, He leaves his brush in the mug and heads over to join Tony by the computer. “Hi Tony, hi viewers.” He drops a quick kiss on the top of Tony’s head—even if he’ll never admit it, Tony craves affection—waves to the camera and meanders back to his easel.

Tony leans back in his chair to give him a fond smile before returning to his questions. “So apparently a lot of you want to know if Steve often gives me kisses and the answer is yes. Steve and I are very affectionate with each other, me because I’m naturally an affectionate person and Steve because I think he feels sorry for me that Howard doesn’t like me.”

“Hey,” Steve protests.

“I’m kidding. Steve and I are affectionate with each other because we both like each other very much and toxic masculinity is ridiculous. And seriously, everyone should take a chance to feel up those biceps at least once. They’re ridiculously huge. So since not everyone gets to see Steve like I do everyday, I will take one for the team and give Steve as many hugs as I can to make up for it.”

See, it’s things like that that make him think Tony is interested in dating him. But then he always adds a “just kidding” or doesn’t follow it up with asking Steve out and he’s just hopelessly confused.

“Shaylabee wants to know when Steve’s birthday is so they can send him a present next year.” He shoots Steve a questioning look. Steve thinks about it and then nods. He’s gotten packages from followers before. They always get sent to Stark Tower where they can be vetted. “Because he is All-American Grade-A beef, Steve’s birthday is ironically on the 4th of July. Next question: lovelyjules asks if Steve and I are aware that we keep acting like we’re dating.”

He pauses and Steve looks up from his easel. Over by the computer, Tony is frowning at the question. Steve gets it. He knows how much Tony hates it when people act like they have to be dating because they give each other hugs and compliments.

“I’ll take this one,” he offers, standing up and joining Tony again.

“Steve—”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He presses another kiss to the side of Tony’s head. “You get this question a lot. Let me handle it for once.” He looks at the camera and takes a deep breath. “Tony and I would like to remind you about what he just said regarding toxic masculinity. We’re very close friends who express our friendship in a physical way but that doesn’t mean that we have to be dating. Tony isn’t interested in anything like that and I respect his choices.” And then, belatedly so that Tony doesn’t suspect anything. “And I’m not either.”

It comes off as a little lame even to him and he thinks Tony might have gotten suspicious judging by the way he frowns oddly.

But when Steve doesn’t say anything else about it, Tony just goes back to the video and says, “That’s all we’ve got time for today. Thanks for listening to me jabber at you today, I’ll be back with a new Science Bros video next week, and as always, thanks for watching.”

Steve waves as Tony turns off the camera, smiling awkwardly.

“Tony—” he starts to say as soon as the blinking light stops flashing.

“Wait. What do you mean I’m not interested?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Well, you know, you’re always making jokes—”

“You mean flirting with you?”

“You always tell me that you’re just kidding afterwards!” he exclaims

“Because you always look so uncomfortable!” Tony says. “Are you telling me that you never once minded me hitting on you?”

“Why would I mind? I’ve had a crush on you for months.”

Tony gapes at him. “But you never said anything. You just—you looked at me so I just figured you didn’t feel the same. We could have been dating for months?”

“I—” Something is stirring in Steve’s heart, something that feels a little bit like hope. “Yes?”

Tony breaks out into a huge grin and he throws his arms around Steve, hugging him tight. “Wow, we’re just as idiotic as Rhodey’s been saying we are.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Steve argues.

“No, no, Honeybear is always right.”

“We got here, didn’t we?” he points out. “Last I heard, Rhodey was betting on us never getting our shit together.”

Tony laughs brightly, nuzzling deeper into Steve’s chest as he does. Slowly, Steve puts his own arms around Tony. They’ve hugged before, many times really, but this feels…different, momentous even.

“Hey, Tony?” he asks hesitantly, wondering if he’s allowed to do this now.

Tony hums happily.

“Can I—may I, I mean—kiss you?”

His answer is to slide his hands up Steve’s chest, hook around his neck, and pull him down for the softest, gentlest kiss Steve thinks he’s ever had. His own hands slide down to fit around Tony’s waist, bringing him up close as he opens his mouth on a content sigh.

Tony pulls away but doesn’t go far, instead resting his forehead against Steve’s. “That was nice,” he whispers.

“Mmhmm,” Steve agrees. “You want to go out with me tonight? Something low key, maybe?”

“Burgers and milkshakes?”

“Share the milkshake?”

“Would we do any less?” Tony asks, mock-indignantly.

Steve chuckles and kisses Tony again, letting his lips linger. He’s allowed to do this, he gets to have this, have Tony. They’re going to be the disgustingly cute couple driving Bucky and Rhodey crazy, he just knows it.

“No,” he says. “Probably not.”

[lonestarbabe]

Holding Out for a Hero

Chapter 10: I Wanna Be Missed

[AO3]

T.K. and Carlos are pining idiots, and then, they have a moment of clarity.

I wanna be missed like every night

I wanna be kissed like it’s the last time

Say you can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t breathe without me

I wanna be held, fragile like glass

‘Cause I’ve never felt nothing like that

Say you can’t walk, can’t talk, can’t go on without me

Carlos

Ever since T.K. had come clean about the lies that he had told Carlos, the mood had changed between them. But Carlos felt like there was cement stuffed in his throat because nothing felt settled to him. He worried about T.K. more than ever. How can I know if he’s okay when he’s so good at faking it? How can I protect him? When are things going to spiral again? He was panicked at the idea that eventually, things were going to get worse again. New obstacles were always waiting along the horizon. As soon as I let my guard down, that’s when bad things happen, so I have to keep my guard up. I will keep him safe. I will stay vigilant.

“Did you feel the energy of the arena?” T.K. said after his show, bouncing on his toes. “I’ve never felt so alive.” T.K. was always good-spirited immediately after shows, but lately, he had been ebullient. He didn’t even have the post-show depression that usually appeared after the adrenaline worse off. He’d also been sober, at least as far as Carlos could tell.

“It was a great show,” Carlos praised. “You’re always so good.”

“Things are finally starting to feel normal.” T.K. finished packing his things to leave the arena. “And I get to see Marjan next week, and she won’t even have to give me a lecture to get my life together.”

“That’s great, T.K.”

“Who knew therapy would be so good?” It had only been a few weeks, and Carlos was worried that T.K. felt too good. When the honeymoon period wore off and T.K.’s therapist started to unearth more complicated topics, Carlos feared that T.K.’s good mood would plummet. He hoped T.K. was ready for the ups and downs of getting better. “I’ve tried it before, but I’ve never felt this good.”

Maybe I’m projecting. When Carlos had lost his job and his boyfriend, he’d been just as cheery when he first started therapy. He was hopeful. He thought he was over the worst of it, so he became complacent. Then, Taylor was arrested, and Carlos realized that no matter how many good days were having, you had to be ready for the bad days that crept in. Carlos wanted to warn T.K. about the lows that could so quickly turn into a spiral, but he didn’t know how to mention it without killing T.K.’s good mood.

He looked at his watch. “It’s late. Where to next?”

“Just the hotel. I’m not ready to go out yet,” which was a small relief. Carlos wasn’t going to gatekeep T.K.’s recovery, but he still worried about it. “I don’t even want to go out.”

“Wow,” Carlos said with a smile. “You really have changed.” He hoped he sounded encouraging.

“You’re staying with me, aren’t you?” Carlos loved staying in the same room as T.K., having him close, and laughing with him until early in the morning.

“I know you get lonely,” Carlos said, leading T.K. to the car. When they get there, he opens the door for T.K. and then plops down beside T.K., exhausted. He yawned, causing T.K. to yawn in response.

“You can have your own room if you want,” T.K. reminded him. He said that every time they stayed somewhere overnight. “It’s not like I need to pinch pennies, but I like having you around.” I like having you around too.

“It would be a waste,” Carlos said with a shrug. “Besides, I like our sleepovers. Gossiping and watching romcoms.”

“You love romcoms.”

“I only watch them because…” I love you “… you pout if I don’t.”

“Play it cool if you want. I know you love The Notebook.”

Carlos laughed. “You do know that romcom means romantic comedy, right?”

“You’re just trying to distract me from your romcom-loving, mushy heart.” T.K. nudges Carlos with his shoulder. “Just for that, I’m making you watch The Notebook tonight.”

“No thanks. I don’t want to cry.”

“A good cry is good for the soul.”

Carlos shook his head. “That’s what you’ll say until after The Notebook you make me watch Mamma Mia! to neutralize your emotions.”

“You love it,” T.K. replied with a cocky lilt and rested his head on Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos stayed very still the whole rise home so that T.K. would keep his head there.

When they got back to the hotel, they got into their pajamas, and as Carlos was going to get on his bed, T.K. patted the space next to him. “Sit with me for a while. I want you close so I can comfort you when the movie gets too sad.”

Carlos obliged. He saw that T.K. had already flipped the TV. “We’re not watching The Notebook.” Carlos knew what T.K. was about to do before he did it. “Don’t start pouting. I’m not falling for it.”

“Fine,” T.K. said, flipping the TV off.

Carlos regretted his choice. “I didn’t mean we couldn’t watch any movie.”

T.K. grinned. “I have better ideas.” He scooted closer to Carlos, easing across the big bed.

“What are you—"

T.K. pressed his lips to Carlos’, and Carlos pushed his weight into the mattress so that he could match the pressure on his lips. I forgot how good kissing can be. Carlos hadn’t kissed someone like that since Taylor, and he missed the feeling, and the kiss jolted the exhaustion from Carlos’ body. T.K.’s lips lingered, ghosting over Carlos’ even as T.K. pulled away. Selfishly, Carlos let T.K. kiss him again. A kiss never hurt anyone, Carlos thought. Just a few moments more, and then I’ll put an end to this.

T.K. pushed Carlos down on the bed and climbed on top of him. He pulled his shirt over his head and trailed his lips down Carlos’ neck, and Carlos was helpless to the chemicals surging through his body. Carlos raked his hand down T.K.’s abs. He’s beautiful.

“T.K., hold on.” Carlos couldn’t bring himself to say, “Stop.” T.K. rolled off Carlos right away, and Carlos fought the urge to pull T.K. back onto him. He missed the grounding weight, and before saying anything else, Carlos steadied his breath. God, I want him. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“What’s wrong?” T.K. asked, breathing heavily. I have to be the voice of reason.

“If we don’t stop now, we never will.” Carlos brushed a hand down T.K.’s face, needing to know that the moments they shared were more than just fantasy. T.K. was real, oh too real. The gesture gave T.K. the wrong idea. It was an implicit, “Keep going.” Carlos pulled his hand away, not wanting to be inadvertently cruel with the inherent promise in the softness of his touch, but it was too late. T.K. beamed, and Carlos was seconds away from promising T.K. the whole universe.

“I don’t want to stop.” T.K. kissed Carlos’ neck, and Carlos steeled himself, scrounging up all the self-restraint in his body. I don’t want to stop either. But he had to maintain boundaries. My heart is at risk, and I need to keep this situation under control.

“I do,” Carlos said without wavering, and T.K. wilted for a millisecond before hiding his disappointment under the effortless, carefree expression he used for his fans. Carlos hated that look being used on him. T.K. pulled himself further from Carlos. I can’t have it both ways. I’ve made my decision, and I have to stick with it.

“Okay,” T.K. said with a shaky voice; the intensity of his gaze shifted from Carlos to the generic art that was on the hotel wall. “That’s okay.”

“Are you upset?”

T.K. looked over his shoulder for a second, and he smiled like an eighth-grader with braces told to “smile with their teeth” on picture day. “Not at all,” he said, sounding a lot like a fire alarm with a dead battery. Only a moron would turn down T.K. Strand, and right now, I’m the most self-loathing moron on earth.

T.K.

I’m such an idiot, T.K. thought as his thoughts started to spiral into self-recrimination. I should have known that he wouldn’t be into me. I’ve ruined everything, and I took the best thing in my life and flipped it on its head. He’s looking at me with pity in his eyes and must think I’m so pathetic for making a move.

“I’m sorry,” T.K. said, rising from the bed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t be,” Carlos said in a rush.

“I thought…” T.K. trailed off. I thought there was something between us. Anxiety was building in his chest, converting into anger. “I shouldn’t have…I’m just lonely,” he said harshly. Carlos’ face fell, and T.K. hated himself for the part of him that wanted that hurt reaction. He couldn’t take the way those brown eyes were looking at him, the way they softened that anger even as the anger fought harder than ever to take over T.K.’s mind. “You’re really hot.” Complimenting Carlos’ appearance was a happy medium between the angry façade of rejection and the yearning heartbreak that so easily came with loving the way someone looked at you more than the way they looked to you.

Carlos didn’t respond, and T.K. couldn’t stop talking because if he did, he wasn’t sure what he might do instead. “Can’t blame a man for trying.” For hoping. He painted on a breezy smile as he pushed down the monsters stirring inside of him. “I’m probably not your type.” He probably likes sane people.

“It’s not that I’m not attracted to you.”

T.K. couldn’t help the hope that rose in his chest. I’m fool. He eased closer to Carlos, but he kept space between them. “Then, kiss me.” Please, and if you can’t do that, at least hug me. Hold my hand. Smile at me. Love me. He’d take anything that Carlos would give; he’d give anything that Carlos would take.

Carlos shook his head, voice low, “I can’t.”

T.K. wanted to beg. He wanted to say, Pretend I’m yours for just an hour. Give me a taste of your love, and I won’t ask for more. Let me have just one moment, so I can imagine how forever with you might feel. Make me feel like I matter. “What’s a little stress relief between friends?”

“Stress relief wasn’t what we were doing, T.K. Not to me.”

“What were we doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this going to make things weird?” T.K. asked, dreading the answer.

“Of course not,” Carlos was quick to reassure him.

“I’m going to sleep,” T.K. said, flopping onto the other bed and flipping the lamp off. He didn’t want Carlos to see the glassiness in his eyes. He was trying not to cry because then Carlos might realize how heartbroken he was.

“Are you okay?”

“A little rejection isn’t going to make me a druggie again, Carlos,” T.K. snapped. But the thought passed my mind, he thought darkly.

“We can still watch a movie.”

T.K. shook his head. “I’m exhausted.” He turned away from Carlos, and he tried to force himself to sleep. I wish I had an oxy to chase the sadness away, he thought as his breathing steadied and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Carlos

Carlos hadn’t been able to sleep. T.K. was across the room in the other bed, turned on his side so that he faced away from Carlos. Carlos crept out of the dark room, slipping into the lit hallway. He pulled out his phone and realized that he didn’t have anyone to call. He studied his contacts, trying to find a relationship that he hadn’t neglected. Finally, he took a gamble and called the one person who always seemed to see through T.K.’s bullshit.

“What did he do this time?” Marjan said after one and a half rings.

Carlos wondered if calling her had been a mistake as he struggled to find words. He looked at the time, and it was three am. He considered hanging up altogether, but Marjan’s curiosity would probably lead to her calling him back. But what do I say?

“Oh, I see,” Marjan said when Carlos didn’t say anything. “You’re worried you did something.”

“It’s late. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” He gulped. “I didn’t have anyone else to call.” That’s pathetic!

“It’s earlier here.”

“Still,” Carlos hedged.

“Carlos, we’re friends. I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t want to talk.”

“We are?”

“Anyone who cares as much about T.K. as you do is a friend.”

“I’m not doing so well on that front. I think I care too much. That’s the problem.”

“Caring too much isn’t a problem, Carlos.” It is when it stands in the way of my job.

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Marjan said. “You’re worried about getting too attached.”

“I’m already there,” Carlos said with a titter.

“What’s the problem?”

“My job. I can’t cross any more boundaries.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“I’m not sure why I called. Sorry to have wasted your time.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easy, buddy.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“You called for a reason, and since you did, you’re getting the friend treatment.” She continued, “This isn’t about your job. It never was. You’re afraid. You’re terrified of what it means to love him. I get it. I’ll kill you if you tell him I said this, but T.K. is sunshine on a rainy day. He makes you feel important. When you’ve gotten his trust, he’s loyal and affectionate. He gives his whole heart. But all those things that make T.K. so lovable are also what makes him so terrifying because sunshine can burn. He becomes self-destructive. He burns too brightly. He gets lost in his passion, and in the process, he hurts the people who are closest to him.”

“How do I deal with that?”

“You remember that loving T.K. Strand means knowing that you can’t save him from himself. You can support him. You can lessen the heat, but you can’t burn with him, no matter how tempting that may be.” That’s what I was afraid she would say, Carlos thought.

“I can’t stop these feelings, can I?” Carlos asked miserably.

“Not really, so it’ll only hurt you both if you’re a dumbass about it.” She sighed. “Tell him how you feel. I’m serious.”

“He’s asleep,” which was probably for the best. If T.K. was awake, Carlos might have stormed into the room before he had the chance to think things over.

“He won’t be forever.” I can’t avoid this forever.

“Yeah,” the conversation dwindled. “Thanks for the advice. Goodnight, Marjan.”

“Call me again sometime when it’s not so late. We can have a real chat. Like real friends do.”

“Will do,” Carlos replied before hanging up the phone and sneaking back into the room as quietly as he could, afraid to wake T.K. up. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do come morning, but when he came back into the room with the light already on, a dim glow around T.K.’s face like a halo, Carlos had a wave of courage that he didn’t think would last until the morning.

Carlos stared into T.K.’s red-rimmed eyes, knowing that it was a decisive moment. He either had to end whatever it was between them for good or take a chance on feelings that were blooming between them, but he knew he couldn’t keep T.K. in limbo. “Do you have a minute to talk?” Carlos asked, fear in his voice, and the pause before T.K. spoke felt like it lasted a lifetime.

[lunetheaveragefan]

one day...

Hi! This is the beginning of the first fanfiction that I’m posting here! I hope people like it!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of anxiety/a panic attack. If you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 1,691

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CHAPTER ONE

Virgil Tempest is having a bad day.

First of all, he’d woken up late. 30 minutes late, to be exact. That left him only 10 to get ready for school, so he didn’t have time to put on his foundation. Now, the feature he hated most about himself — his freckles — would be visible for all to see. 

Secondly, his favorite hoodie was in the wash, so he had to wear his old, plain black one that he hadn’t worn since at least seventh grade. It was buried in the way back of his closet, wedged between a leather jacket he’d completely forgotten he owned and the suit he had only worn once, at a funeral for some distantly related family member.

Thirdly, he forgot his headphones at home in his rush, and so now he had to suffer the whole day, unable to block out the noise of his idiotic school. He thought he had a spare pair in his backpack, but when he looked once he got to school, there weren’t any in sight. 

Earlier, he thought it couldn’t get any worse, but he is sure now that it was just building up to this.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Roman Princeford apologizes loudly from above him. To say Virgil dislikes Roman would be an understatement. Roman has a ridiculously pompous name and a personality to match. The star theater kid, popular king of the school, and friend to everyone. Well, everyone except for Virgil. Even Virgil’s only friend, Logan Wise, a class-A nerd, likes Roman. 

Needless to say, Virgil doesn’t see Roman’s appeal. Maybe, if Roman could stand to be a whole lot less arrogant, say, every day, or if he stopped being so excessively extra, or if he just took the time to do something other than theater and bragging, he might be tolerable. The key word there being ‘might.’

“It’s fine,” Virgil mumbles from the floor, where he had landed after Roman knocked into him while Virgil was walking. Roman had been talking to his usual group of fans, taking up most of the hallway since pretty much everyone wanted to listen to him, and had thrown out an arm in one of his usual grand gestures and pushed Virgil right over. He’d landed on the floor, books strewn everywhere, being watched by the whole hallway. Of course, it’s more crowded than usual thanks to the tall tale Roman was describing that apparently no one could afford to miss out on. It didn’t help that Roman had decided to make a big deal out of it, either. 

Wishing this terrible day could just end already, Virgil shifts to a crouch and begins to gather his books. To his utter dismay, Roman bends down to help him. Annoyed as he is, Virgil can’t get up the courage to tell the other boy to leave him alone. Even so, the work goes quicker with the other boy helping, and, as much as he would hate to ever admit it, Virgil appreciates it. 

They both reach for the last book on the ground at the same time, and their hands knock into each other. 

“S-Sorry,” Roman says, and Virgil thinks he hears a stutter in his voice. Roman Princeford, the theater prodigy who never messes up a line, stuttering? But when Virgil looks up at Roman, there’s a blush working its way across the other boy’s tan cheeks. Strange. This close, Virgil can see the bluish specks in the other boy’s green eyes. 

Roman must feel Virgil’s eyes on him, because he looks back at him, handing him his last book. Dread settles in Virgil’s stomach as he realizes that Roman must be able to see his freckles. Just as he remembers, Roman’s eyes drop to the other’s nose, where the freckles are the most noticeable. Shit, Virgil curses. 

Yanking the book away from Roman, Virgil turns away and stands up, and Roman soon follows suit. There’s a redness on both of their faces now, but on Virgil’s pale skin, it’s much more visible. How long was I staring at his eyes? He shakes his head, letting his dyed-purple bangs fall over his face. 

Resituating his books in his arms and weaving his way through the people, he starts the walk to his next class, art.

“Have a nice day!” Roman calls from behind him. Virgil sighs and pulls up his hood, wishing now more than ever that he had his headphones.

“Whatever,” he mutters, but the whole next period, all he can think about is Roman Princeford’s bright green eyes, tan skin, and wavy blond hair. 

I must be going crazy, he decides. I mean, I know I’m gay, but gay for Roman Princeford, of all people? I don’t know him at all, and from what I’ve heard — and experienced — he’s not someone I would ever get along with. There’s no way I could possibly have a crush on him. 

Right?

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

At lunch, Virgil drops down in the seat next to Logan with a thud. 

“Greetings,” Logan states professionally. “Am I misperceiving your body language and demeanor or was your day thus far below average in terms of relative happiness and unpleasantly abnormal?” Virgil looks at him around his bangs, puzzled.

“What?” Is he even speaking English? Virgil wonders.

“Pardon me, I forget that you are intellectually compromised when it comes to my copious vocabulary. Let me rephrase,” Logan proclaims. He clears his throat and lays his hands on the table, his fingers pressed together to form triangle-like shapes. “Did your day suck or are you just being your—” Logan waves a hand at Virgil’s body— “regular grumpy asshole self?”

Virgil is taken aback for a second before he rolls his eyes. 

“Roman fucking Princeford bumped into me in the hallway, and then had the nerve to say, ‘Have a nice day!’ afterwards in that disgustingly cheery voice of his!” Virgil complains, poking at his food. He doesn’t really intend on eating any of it; the school’s food is terrible, and besides, he isn’t too hungry anyway. He has some crackers in his bag if he really needs something to eat later.

“I do not understand why you antagonize him so often, but I suppose if you refuse to change your opinions of him, there isn’t much I can do on the matter.” Logan pauses, and Virgil has a feeling he knows what’s coming next: one of Logan’s rare discussions of emotions. “But you shouldn’t just assume that everyone is out to hurt you, Virgil.”

Yup, there it is. Virgil likes Logan’s company because he isn’t too tied up in his emotions, unlike Virgil. He knows the facts, and that’s relieving when Virgil is in the midst of a period of overwhelming anxiety. But sometimes, Logan thinks he knows what’s best for Virgil, especially when it comes to matters concerning Roman Princeford.

Scoffing, Virgil crosses his arms and leans against the back of the chair. “Whatever,” he sighs.

Logan takes a deep breath, obviously trying to calm his temper, which has a habit of getting out of control, and responds, “Virgil, this is unhealthy. You have—” But before Virgil can find out what Logan thinks he has to do, another voice cuts Logan off.

“Heya, guys! How are you?” Virgil looks up to see a shorter student standing there. This new kid’s hair is a mess of amber curls, tumbling over his forehead and slipping behind his round, wire rimmed glasses. Tan skin covered in freckles and a round face gives him a youthful look, but Virgil knows that he’s a junior just like him. 

His name is Patton Hart, and Virgil, surprisingly, doesn’t hate him.

Patton is known for being one of the kindest people in the school. No matter who it is, Patton will find a way to cheer someone up. Back in December of their freshman year, Patton helped Virgil calm down during a panic attack around finals. Virgil harbors no ill will towards the kid, but it’s still strange that he’d show up at their table randomly. 

Then, Virgil remembers that Patton’s best friend is the one and only Roman Princeford. 

Roman probably sent Patton to tell me something. Damn, I hate that stuck up asshole. Before Virgil can open his mouth to ask Patton what he wants with them, since Logan and him are the only ones anywhere near, Logan talks first.

“Hi, Patton!” His voice is so upbeat and joy-filled that Virgil has to look over at Logan to make sure he did, indeed, speak. In the seat next to him, Logan’s face is lit up with a smile, and he looks so…well, not-Logan. And, wait, is that a blush on Logan’s cheeks?

Virgil raises his eyebrows in shock and blinks a few times to make sure what he’s seeing is real. When nothing changes when he opens his eyes, Virgil ignores the strangeness of whatever’s happening next to him and looks back at Patton. 

“Hey, Patton,” he greets. “What do you need?” He tries to keep his voice annoyance-free, so not to hurt the other kid’s feelings. Patton’s a little puffball of innocence and positive energy, and the whole school has made an unspoken agreement to keep it that way.

“Oh, I just came over to talk to Logan about our science project!” 

“We were paired together as lab partners today,” Logan explains, still with that wide smile on his face. 

Weirded out by the scene unfolding in front of him, Virgil pokes at his food one last time and decides he’s not so hungry to risk getting food poisoning. 

“Alright, then,” he says, standing up, “I’ll leave you guys alone so you can talk about your nerdy physics stuff.”

“Actually, Virgil, it’s chemistry we’re taking,” Logan informs him, some semblance of his usual professional manner returning. 

“Well, it’s still science, and it’s still nerdy, so my point stands.”

Patton giggles, and Logan seems to blush, but at this point, Virgil doesn’t trust his own eyes. 

“Well, goodbye, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, waving. Virgil laughs at Patton’s use of ‘kiddo’ even though they're in the same grade and waves back. Telling Logan that he’ll see him later, he turns and dumps his try, finally exiting the noise of the cafeteria.

[mellowrat21]

Rough Changes.

AU where the bullying Sal recieves from Travis, his school crush, gets so hard to him, it almost kills him, so he decides to close some cycles and get the hell out of the situation. Cw: mention of self harm, bullying, graphic violence, strong vocabulary, polyamorous relationships, mild (really really mild) implied sex scene(?, heavily loaded with angst. Fandom: Sally Face Words: 4800 Hope you enjoy it!

The first time Sally went out around Nockfell he used to wear a beanie to hide his bright, long, electric blue hair and wore discrete clothes, but as the time went by and he started hanging out with Larry, Ash and Todd, his confidence slowly started going higher and higher until he started going to school with his signature hairstyle, some hairpins and his favorite clothes, he was a cis guy, and he was bisexual, but who cared, everyone who saw him thought he was a girl and probably a lesbian since he hung out with Ashley so much. And he didn’t give a flying fuck about it, he wouldn’t make an effort to change his voice to make it sound “more feminine” or go to the women’s restroom because he didn’t feel the need to, he was a guy, period. Some people didn’t seem to agree and thought he was a trans guy or something, which was terribly stupid and Sal and his friends would always mock the people that harassed him on the streets “you will never be a real woman, you tranny!” or “no matter how many chemicals are in your body, you will always be a girl!”, people never knew if he was a girl or a boy, and that amused him a lot. But then, when they got to the middle of 8th grade, a new kid was introduced to his class, he was a tall, brown boy with shiny blonde hair, he had what appeared to be a bruise on his left eye but Sal thought it was rude to stare, so he lowered his head, wondering if it was a bruise or a birthmark. The kid got to sit beside him, they didn’t talk at all, if not just the common “hi” from when a new kid gets introduced to the class and you’re the one sitting next to them. Dear diary: Today in class there was a new kid, he is cute, I wanna be his friend and maybe share drawings or stickers or even Pokémon cards, what if he collects them too? I could find the ones I don’t have and he could benefit from mine too. He’s my age, his name is Travis. I think he’s religious, so not cool, religion is boring, I always sleep in religion class. I’m gonna ask him if he wants to sit with me at lunch, he might be lonely since he’s a new boy at school, I wanna be his first friend, I could even introduce him to the group!

Alright, gotta sleep, Sal out.

**

The alarm clock was buzzing, letting Sal know it was time to get out of bed and ready for a heavy Tuesday of school, he hated Tuesdays, no band club, no art classes, nothing, just geometry, math and a lot of history, Spanish and English, oh, and religion too. He got up and went to take a quick shower, it was cold and he didn’t really like turning the heater on, it was too noisy for being 6:40 in the morning the time he showered for school. When he got out of the shower, he put on his underwear and with a towel around his hair he sat on the sink to take care of his reddish scars, that day they were way more tender than usual, it stung and even hurt in some places the q-tip touched with the lotion. He sighed, getting back down from the sink and finding a meowing Gizmo on his bed, who stretched as soon as he saw his owner, asking him to pet him and rub his belly. “Aw hi little guy! Did you get some good sleep?” Sally asked in a tiny voice, thoroughly shaking Gizmo’s big belly, he earned a purry meow from him, who got up and walked out of the room to get food. Sal let out a breathy giggle and started going through his closet, thinking what he should wear; he found a white skirt he thought was really cute, tried it on but found out it was way too short and it showed the scars on his thighs, he didn’t want any more visits to the school counselor for self-harm even though his scars were a combination of cuts made by him and scratches made by Gizmo. He decided to stop thinking so much and just grabbed a pair or ripped black skinny jeans with patches and chains Larry had gifted him for his 15th birthday and a pastel blue gloomy bear t-shirt to go with it, by the time he tied his usual blue converse he thought of grabbing a hoodie, so he grabbed a red zip-up hoodie and threw it on before he went to get some breakfast, some peach slices and Greek yogurt did the job and after a little bit of him styling his hair with his dryer and iron, he went to brush his teeth, he grabbed his bag after putting his prosthetic on and headed out. On the way he found Larry, with whom he went to the bus stop while chatting a little bit. “hey Lar, did you see the new kid?” Sal asked, eager to hear the answer, he was so interested in him, he was excited to know him. “uh yeah, that Travis boy? He’s chill, why? Larry said, munching on a chocolate chip cookie that might be his breakfast, he had his hair tied back in a messy bun which showed he didn’t shower, and those bruise-like bags under his eyes made clear he didn’t sleep either. “huh? What do you mean chill, did you talk to him?” Sal’s eyelids perked up, surprised by his friend talking about his interesting future new friend. “oh hell no, he’s religious, I would never get near a religious guy, they’re scary with all their crazy ‘god loves you’ shit” Larry shivered jokingly, earning an annoyed sigh from Sal, who playfully punched his friend’s shoulder. “he can’t be that bad bro, he’s 14, he probably just uses the cross necklace because his dad makes him.” Sal tried to shrug it off, then the bus came and they got on. While looking for a seat, Sal spotted a blonde head, and when he got closer, low and behold, it was Travis. He was talking to another blue haired kid that attended their school, but they suddenly locked eye contact and Sal smiled to him, only to remember he couldn’t see it, so he shakingly waved until Larry softly pushed him to sit behind Travis and the other boy that was there. “come on dude, you’re gonna fall if you stay there!” Larry tugged on his hoodie, which made him sigh and sit next to his friend, his face red as a cherry and the blush spreading to his ears. That was so embarrassing… “woah woah dude are you okay? Do you have like a fever or something? Your face is hot as fuck and your so re- AH DUDE NOT COOL!!” Larry said worried, getting elbowed on the stomach by his flustered friend who was literally shaking on his seat. “i-I am- I’m okay it’s j-ju-just I-… fuuuuck” Sal stammered out, not being able to form a sentence from how hard he was shaking, then he hear a gasp from the

seat in front of him. “what? Are you- are you a boy?” a flustered, weirded out Travis was looking at him, he looked disgusted and scared. “uh m-me? I- I… yes, I’m a boy…” Sal stuttered again, scared, the first words they exchanged and they were not at all the ones he expected. “what the- ugh, boys don’t wear skirts, you shouldn’t wear that kind of attires, it’s ungodly.” The disgust in Travis’ face was growing with every word and Sal was literally at the verge of tears from how scared he was, even though he had picked a gender neutral looking outfit he got a bad comment, from the boy he wanted to be friends with. Sal tried to talk but the words were stuck in his mouth, when a sudden movement startled him to the point he yelped. “yo, clothes don’t have gender. Go fuck with someone else smartass.” Larry had jerked up from his sit, completely angered and with a threatening stand. Travis got scared himself and he just turned around mumbling something under his breath. Sal was silently crying, little sobs slipped from under the mask his day didn’t start well at all and he had heard what the boy in front of him had mumbled.

He called him a faggot.

His day went on horribly, boring classes, all of them where he sat next to the boy who he had a little crush on, it was all wrong, all he wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball to cry, and cry and cry. Before lunch started, he got up rather quickly, Travis used the opportunity to trip him and he fell over, he scratched both his knees and it wanted to make him cry again, and it did, he just ran to the restrooms and locked himself in a stall, hugging his legs and silently crying again, what a shit day, he just wanted it to end already. The urge was suddenly unbearable, he needed to get himself off of that situation, he reached to his hoodie pockets and pulled out a little envelope that contained a stainless steel blade he hadn’t used in a while. He then pulled his sleeves up and angrily started making multiple deep cuts in every dimension, that made him sob and gasp, and when he was done, he was just a mess of blood and tears, he reached for the toilet paper and luckily for him, there was, so he quickly put it on the wounds and made some pressure until the blood was almost gone, he pulled the sleeves back down and sighed, he wasn’t relieved, but he wasn’t around Travis so he was good for a while. Then he remembered his next class was religion, fuck no, he was going to the principle to ask him to call his dad, he needed to go home, he couldn’t resist any more time with Travis let alone it being in religion class, fucking religion class, that was the last thing he wanted to happen to him. After he decided he was calling his dad to go home, he got off the toilet and opened up the stall door slowly as to not find any “unwanted guests”. Once he double-checked and triple-checked he was able to get out of there an run to the principal’s office, only to blink and open his eyes back up at a hospital room, surrounded by Larry, Ashley, Todd, Todd’s boyfriend (he didn’t remember his name) and his dad, all looking both worried and relieved. “oh my god, he’s awake!” Ashley almost yelled, rushing to hold his friends hand. “huh…? Wha- what am I doing here?” Sal asked, looking around, noticing his arms were uncovered, showing his fresh cuts and the catheter where the liquids where flowing. “uh, you passed out and Larry found you completely splattered on the ground, your hoodie was soaked in blood so he told us and we rushed you to the hospital. It seemed like you lost a lot of blood, Sally, what’s wrong?” Todd talked, looking concerned. “Salvatore, please tell me you’re not going to start cutting yourself again, I already signed a document to refuse your admission to the mental hospital, I know you don’t wanna go back there and I don’t want you to go either, that place only drugs you and prevents you from everything…” Henry spoke, worry and sadness gushing out of his mouth while he talked. Tears started falling down Sal’s eyes, he was mortified, and now he was in the fucking hospital, he was sure this was a nightmare, he needed to wake up, he needed to fucking- “SAL, WAKE UP!!” Larry said, worried and scared, it had been a day since Sal got out of the hospital and he stopped going to school for a while, Larry was taking care of him every day after school to make sure he was eating and cleaning himself, he was worried his best friend would kill himself if he spent too many time alone and he wasn’t risking losing another loved one. Never again. Sal jerked awake, all startled by his friend’s yelling. “what do you want Larry…” annoyed by his sudden awakening, Sal rolls over on the bed and starts falling back asleep. “I brought you some pancakes and chocolate milk… I know you like them…” Larry sighed out, he was sad to see his best friend like that, he hated it, he fucking hated whatever was going on with him to make him that depressed. Sal sat up and started eating bit by bit, the bandages on his arms were getting loose and a bit gooey, so after Sal finished eating, Larry carried him piggyback to the bathroom to clean him up.

That was only the beginning of the worst four years of his life, days of never ending bullying, depressive episodes, fights, detentions, panic attacks and breakdowns.

**

Last break of their last year of school was nearing in, that was the last day of school before break and they’d be back for a month and a half more of school and everything would be over. Sal was excited because he was going on a field trip with the squad, not knowing those plans were going to be completely crushed by goody two-shoes blonde fuck Travis, who had woke up that last day of school and chose complete violence. That day was living hell for Sal, he never stopped mocking him and calling him names, but Sal just pretended to ignore him, until… “Hey freak, you faceless faggot motherfucker, did your mommy do your hair for you? It looks shitty! Oh wait, no she didn’t. why, you ask? OH YEAH, BECAUSE SHE’S DEAD, SHE MUST BE CRINGING AND CRYING IN HER GRAVE BECAUSE SHE’S ASHAMED OF YOU, ABOMINATION, UNGODLY MONSTER” Travis was following him around, tugging at his hair and pushing his head around, until Sal snapped. He didn’t say anything, just a hit, square in the nose, a loud crack and a scream followed, Sal just kept hitting and hitting until Larry had to physically drag him away, he was frozen, scared, absolutely terrified of himself, of what he did. Luckily it was finally break time and he got to dip out of there, he locked himself at home and ravaged the tree on his backyard, then when he was tired of it, he decided to go back inside and look at himself in the mirror, he then found himself staring down to a pair of scissors on his nightstand. His breath became shaky and anxious, he didn’t want to do it, he made him do it, it was all his fault, all his fault, he fucking did it. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, TRAVIS FUCKING PHELPS!” he cried out, yelling and shaking after he looked at himself back in the mirror, his pretty blue long locks were completely gone, leaving him with a mess of hair, he didn’t want it anymore, he didn’t want to look like a girl, he didn’t want to be bullied anymore, he didn’t deserve it. “I am a man, I was born a man, I will die a man, and if I am a man I will fucking behave like one. Did you fucking hear me, Phelps!? IM GONNA BE WHAT YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE, A FUCKING GUY, NOT THE UNGODLY FAGGOT YOU ALWAYS SAW ON ME!! ARE YOU HAPPY? ARE YOU GLAD?! FUCK YOU! YOU MADE ME LIKE THIS! ME! THE ONE WHO ALWAYS THOUGHT FONDLY OF YOU, THE ONE THAT THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST SCARED OF ME! The one who… the one… the one who fucking liked you…” Sally couldn’t speak anymore, he was shaking, sobbing and crying out loud on the bathroom floor, just to stare back up and find Larry and Ashley looking down at him, both crying, completely worried and scared of what they were looking at. Larry picked him up as he drifted away, passing out from all the crying. They let him sleep, he was sleeping soundly as the other two were slowly falling asleep by his sides. When he woke up he found them sleeping there, he woke them up too since he had an enormous headache and needed some assistance. “Lar… b-bring me some medicine please my head hurts like hell…” He went to grab onto his locks and all he found was a nest of tangled up short hair, he found himself scared but then remembered what happened before he went out and tears started gushing out of his eyes. “fuck, I really did it, I cut my fucking hair.” Sal unbelievably laughed, a melancholic laugh. Larry got up and Ash stayed there, hugging him softly. “don’t worry, blue, I’ll take you to a salon after you take your medicine and we’ll get that mess fixed, alright?” Ash held his hand, reassuringly squishing it softly. Sal nodded then looked up when he saw Larry pop out of the doorframe holding a pill and a glass of water which he gave him to drink. “So dude… after you get the haircut… do you wanna go get some food and maybe get high at the abandoned house down the hill? I know Ash is out of this because she has to babysit her brother but we can go if you want.” Larry asks rather shyly, trying not to give Sal any strong emotions. “I’ll take the food offer, but no weed for me today, this headache will get fucking worse if I even get near the stuff” Larry nodded, joining the hug

after Sal had swallowed the pill, closing his eyes at the pleasuring hug. After the pill kicked in and Sal was no longer in pain, the three young adults went to the hair salon to get Sal a haircut, then the other two sat back reading awfully boring magazines. Mid haircut, Sal asked the stylist to dye his hair black, he wanted to change himself completely, never look back at himself how he used to be. They finished washing his hair and he went to show his friends who looked completely dumbfounded by the new look, so dumbfounded Sal started to worry. “guys? What is it? Do-does it look bad? Do I change it or-“ he was cut off by a wave of NO’s from both of them, they were both in love with what they saw before them, they rushed to hug him and cradle him, Larry cried, because he loved him, he loved every single piece of his existence and now he looked so different, not happier, but completely different, he was proud of him, of his baby, not blue anymore.

**

The road trip never happened, but they stayed together at Sal’s house the whole break since Henry was away for a business trip that meant a lot of money coming to them afterwards. The three spent the break like a little family, they tried doing all sorts of things, like cooking, hiking, stargazing, burning all Sal’s “feminine” stuff as a symbolic sacrifice (even if Ashley wanted to keep the makeup and some stockings he had) and well, other kind of stuff between the three of them. The day they had go back to school went… not so badly. The squad had agreed not to talk to Sal a lot at school so people thought he was just absent or something, and it worked out until some person started to suspect. “hey, you, uh… Salvatore?” Travis approached the guy shyly, tapping his shoulder. “yeah?” Sal tried to lower his voice to confuse the oblivious blonde even more. “well I wanted to talk to you about something, in private, so… do you mind going with me to the school’s auditorium? I promise it’ll not take long.” Travis stepped a little further from him as to not scare him. “uh yeah sure, why not.” He nodded and followed behind, not too closely, while he texted his partners about it, he was shaking, scared and stressed about what might happen there. Porcelain doll: school auditorium, quick, heading there with Travis, apparently he wants to talk about something.

Ashey<3: oooo someone is getting confessed to!!!

Lar-Bear: be there in 3 minutes, dragging Ash with me if something happens.

Porcelain doll: nice, thanks babe.

Ashey<3: no worries boo ~

Lar-Bear: we love you, Torey.

Sal sighed in relief knowing his boyfriend and girlfriend were going to be around if something bad happened, so he ruffled his hair and jogged a bit, trying to keep up the pace. When they got there, Travis pushed the big doors to the entrance, the dim lighted room was scary enough with the theatre people in it, let alone it being completely empty, except for Ash and Larry who were hiding in the console room.

Travis cleared his throat, he was… nervous? Maybe Sal was imagining it, there’s no way that motherfucker was nervous.

“so… what did you wanna talk about?” Sal spit out rather venomously, stressed and annoyed by Travis’ presence.

“I promise it wouldn’t take long so it won’t. Salvatore Fisher, Sally Face, I wanted to tell you I’m absolutely sorry for what I did to you, all those years of suffering because of my fear of… of… uh… of…” Travis was struggling to take it out, he was disgusted by his own words though he knew he had to say it somehow. “of liking another man, of liking you, Sal… I was taking it all out on you and you didn’t deserve it, I’m working on myself, on becoming a better person for you, because I know how much damage I caused you on the outside, but on the inside, I know I left you a wound that is rotting and I will never know how deep it is.”

“Bro. You waited four years. Four fucking whole years to apologize for something you did to me every day nonstop, the words, the names, the hits, the hair pulling, all of that, and now you’re just telling me that you’re sorry? What do you expect? That I fall on your arms, begging you to hold me and forgiving you right away? Fuck no. Totally not. I will never forget what you did to me, and you know what? Fuck you. You’re the fucking faggot, you’re the one that deserves to get your shit rocked every single day of the rest of your fucking existence. You’re the sissy, little blondie piss baby, what’re you gonna do, huh? Cry out to daddy for him to save you? Only sissies cry, Travis, man the fuck up and piss your pants anywhere else but near me.” Sal gushed every word that came out of his mouth so naturally it was like he had rehearsed that speech a thousand times. He pushed him, making him trip over his feet and fall to the ground before he left, fuming, at the verge of tears, and before he closed the doors of the auditorium he yelled “FUCK YOU TRAVIS PHELPS, EVEN IF I STILL LOVED YOU, I WOULD NEVER TOUCH YOUR FILTHY FLESH IN MY MISERABLE LIFE, Y’KNOW!?” and with that said, he slammed the door behind him, actually hearing rushed footsteps from the other side. Todd and Larry were waiting for him outside but Sal ignored them, he was too busy wiping the tears off of his face as his legs gave in and let him sit on the floor, resting his back against a stack of lockers nearby. Travis barged out of the auditorium, tears desperately streaming down his face, yelling out for Sal. “SAL PLEASE FORGIVE ME, I LOVE YOU WITH MY LIFE AND IM SORRY I HURT YOU SO MUCH PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER!!” Travis was full on begging, he needed him so bad but Todd and Larry stopped him, Larry had hit him square in the face while on the floor Todd kicked him on the side, completely angered to see how poor Sally was crying too, with Ashley by his side hugging him and comforting him, they would never let Travis get near Sal, ever again. Since the principal actually knew Sal and Travis situation, he didn’t end up expelling anyone and didn’t give them detention, Travis, Todd and Larry were given a warning and Ash was congratulated because of how good of a job she did comforting Sally while he was having his panic attack. Finally they got to go home and do their homework and onto the next day.

**

Finally, the school year, graduation and prom had been completely over, and Ash, Sal and Larry were moving out of Nockfell to live together in the city since Larry had gotten a job and Sal was planning to start university with Ash, they were both planning on enrolling in art school even though Sal wasn’t too excited about it since he wasn’t as good at art as Larry and Ashley were, but they both always reminded him that he doesn’t need to be good, he needs to be passionate. That way he would finally get better.

The news of the moving got to Travis, so, as a goodbye present, he left a letter and some candy for Sal in his letterbox, promising him and himself that they would never cross each other ever again. Sal thought it was a cute gesture, maybe in another life they would’ve been together, but in this one, they just peacefully drifted away after all the suffering they felt throughout the years. He went in to smoke some weed, he took the letter with him and read it out loud, he cried a little while, and after that he just burned the letter and went back into the empty house. Ash greeted him with a soft kiss on the lips and smiled. “The moving crew called, they’ll be here in ten minutes. Lar is upstairs saying his last goodbyes to the house.” Ash kissed his forehead and let him go with a playful spank on his butt, making both of them giggle. When Sal went up he found Larry crying, he softly approached him and sat beside him, hugging him tightly.

“hi doll, sorry you get to see me like this, I got nostalgic and I was thinking of how glad my mom would be to know that I found a job, that I have a beautiful loving relationship and that I’m moving out with them, with the beautiful people I love.” Larry sobbed onto Sally’s chest and he howled as soon as the words left Larry’s mouth.

“I’m sure little old Lisa is really fucking proud of you, of me and of Ashey, like, we’re both successful young adults and we’re taking off, we’re living our lives just like Lisa, my dad and Ashley’s wanted, so never doubt it, they’re all pretty proud of you, bear.” Sally reassured him with a big smile, Larry kissed him softly then pulled out with a huge smile.

“good god Torey, I love you so fucking much.” They ended up cuddling on the beanbag they didn’t pack, it was big enough to fit three people there, so they were comfortable, kissing and cuddling there. They started getting heated up and kissing more aggressively. Rough kissing and hickeys, until Ashley interrupted them.

“I knew I was hearing my little porcelain doll moaning, why am I not invited again?” They all laughed and pulled her onto the beanbag, but then again there was another interruption, the doorbell rang, the moving crew was there, they started loading the stuff to the moving truck and the other stuff inside Larry’s truck, then took off, they were leaving, finally leaving that damn town, the memories, the suffering, off to a new life, a better life where they had love to give and receive, wealth and success, so they weren’t sad. Obviously they were nostalgic, but never sad.

They finally got to the new house, it was big and pretty, the furniture looked perfect and the bedroom was cozy and welcoming. They were so tired that day, they just slept through the whole night and the next half of the day.

There their life started, their new life, where the worries were different and the old problems were nowhere to be seen, and they were happy, they were completely free. Free, loved and happy, just how they deserved.

[tev-the-random]

What it Ursa took her children with her? - Pt.2

As we were saying:

Little over year has passed since the family arrived in Hira’a, and fateful news gets to them: Ozai remarried. His new wife is someone who is honoured to marry the Firelord and doesn’t mind the fact that his head is so deep up his own arse- anyway, and they are expecting a child, who is to be the Firelord’s legitimate heir.

Azula’s hopes and dreams are shattered. At age ten, she is quite literally being replaced in her beloved father’s life. It’s like she’s never even existed, and she can’t help but wonder what she did wrong.

Zuko is also upset, of course. All those years when Ozai told him he was unfit and worthless come flooding back. But somehow, he already expected things to turn out like this. Unlike Azula, he wasn’t so deeply feeding on hopes that things would go back to normal. He sees it more as a situation that was out of everyone’s control.

He convinces Azula it’s not her fault, and these kids will still be trying to understand and defend their father later down the road. There must be a reason for all of this, right? They start thinking of a reasonable scenario…

Ursa just feels sorry for the poor woman who has to deal with Ozai now.

So we get a timeskip: about three years came and went. Zuko and Azula – treated as kids and not as weapons – lead a peaceful and happy life whenever they’re not thinking of their father and everything they could be doing out there.

They have become known local troublemakers in their spare time. Kids know better than to challenge them, people know not to leave flammable goods out in the open – a strict policy regarding fireworks has been established after a chaotic incident – and failure to keep an eye on them this one time led to… well, let’s just say that the town is still unsure of whether or not they’re is being haunted by evil spirits.

They aren’t allowed anywhere near Forgetful Valley, but bold of you to assume they never tried. In-jokes arise.

‘No, I’m serious: that tree’s face looked exactly like yours, Zuzu. You really should befriend it,’ Azula mocks, remembering a particularly ugly tree they encountered in their adventure.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking at it. I was busy looking for whoever it was that asked you,’ Zuko retorts. ‘Since Forgetful Valley has all the kinds of crazy stuff.’

‘Maybe we should go back and look for your impulse control, then.’

‘None of you are going back in there,’ Ursa reprehends. ‘It was very irresponsible of you. Forgetful Valley is a dangerous place, you could have gotten hurt!’

‘Your mother is right, you know?’ Noren comments. ‘I’ve been to that jungle before, and it’s definitely not a playground. But I swear…’ He makes a dramatic pause. ‘I once saw Ursa’s sense of humour in there.’

The kids burst out laughing while Ursa sighs. ‘Since you can find such amazing things in the valley, dear, why don’t you go back there and find yourself actual funny jokes? I’m sure my sense of humour will be around the same corner.’

*More laughter*

(IDK, I write crappy comedy, ok?)

They still have a bit of a hard time making friends. I wouldn’t say they are shy, but they definitely have a talent to say the wrong things at the wrong times, and it’s hard to make deep connections. Sure, they would play with other kids from time to time, but in the end, Zuko and Azula are each other’s best friend.

They’ve cleared an area by the beach that any Hira’a resident knows to stay away from when they’re training.

Azula discovered a great passion for theatre. Not only are her acting skills fantastic, she also seems to be naturally aware of what makes a good scene. People say she’s Noren’s Little Assistant.

She hates being called Noren’s Little Assistant. She would much rather be called Ursa’s Little Star, because goddamn is she a good actress and she needs everyone to know that.

Zuko is more of a plant-lover guy. Unfortunately, he hasn’t inherited his grandmother’s green thumb, and despite Ursa’s best efforts to teach him, it seems like everything he touches dies.

He has grown to show a way with animals, however. Any variety of frogs and toads love him; lizards of all kinds are attracted to him like he’s a magnet; furry animals big and small adore him and any type of bird-like creature seems to think he is the best human being in existence. But his favourite animals are still the turtleducks.

Back in the palace, Iroh eventually learns of Ozai’s bullshit and how he got the throne in the first place. And you know what? The time has come for Iroh to draw a line in the sand. He confronts his little brother, who confronts him back by telling him that, should he try to tell anyone in the Fire Nation the truth – that Ozai was a top-grade traitor who actually had no right to the throne –, no one would believe him. Since his brother won’t be sensible, Iroh decides that’s it: he’s fucking out.

Now a fugitive from the Fire Nation, he somehow winds up owning a lovely traveling tea shop called the Jasmin Dragon. Most people don’t even suspect he is the fearful Dragon of the West, because he’s just so nice?

You can bet he serves blends of tea from all across the nations.

The tea shop is also a good cover up for his exchanges with the Order of the White Lotus. He gives and receives information, and does his best to help villages to either defend themselves or evacuate during Fire Nation attacks.

One day a member of the White Lotus travels to Hira’a for one reason or another and finds Zuko and Azula. This person then sends a letter to Iroh.

Iroh comes to Hira’a to visit the family. He’s glad to see they’re ok, even if he can’t stay for too long. But long enough for some Quality Time – these kids have grown so much!

Iroh doesn’t know of Ursa’s part in Azulon’s assassination, and only assumes she knew of Ozai’s plan. But now, it’s time that her children learned a couple of things, and he is willing to teach them, so that when the time arrives for them to meet their destiny, they should be able to choose wisely and face whatever comes their way. So he asks the children to accompany him in his travels.

Ursa doesn’t want to let them go. They’re children, they should be here living a peaceful life, not meeting some grand, dangerous destiny! What if something horrible happened to them?

Iroh understands the pain of losing a child. He doesn’t want to make Ursa spend her time worrying about losing two, so he respects her decision and soon leaves the town.

But the siblings are not about to just sit here when they know they’re destined for something greater. What incredible knowledge did their uncle hold? Did their father have something to do with this? They always knew there was more to their fate than just living in Hira’a for the rest of their lives, and this is their chance; it’s now or never.

Zuko and Azula are about to sneak out and follow Iroh when Noren spots them. But instead of trying to stop them – he is well aware that he can’t – he gives them two masks and some advice about never forgetting who they were.

Why yes, I am saying that they eventually take the masks and become partners in crime, Zuko as the Blue Spirit and Azula as the Red Spirit, because parallels.

They catch up with their uncle and adventures and shenanigans issue as Zuko, Azula and Iroh cross the Earth Kingdom.

Now imagine this trio: two of the most awkward firebending teenagers travelling with their old tea-loving uncle, who spits proverbs like he’s made of them. The possibilities for both hilarious and heart-warming moments are endless.

Iroh thinks himself a matchmaker. Whenever he thinks he sees some romance going on, he encourages his nephew or niece to make a move. His flaming cupid arrows do more damage than good, yet he only has good intentions at heart. Teens all around the kingdom encourage you to stop, sir.

Their new life is even more humbling than in Hira’a, since they are constantly travelling. But they manage, and they know their uncle is nothing but wise… even if Azula is still quite arrogant and manipulative, and Zuko is impatient and hot-headed, which can lead to a lot of conflict.

Iroh teaches them both how to create and redirect lightning. Zuko is better at redirecting than Azula. Creating it, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated, and both of them get their fair share of explosions while learning. Neither of them really gets a hang of it – although Azula is better at it than Zuko, that’s not saying much – for they still have a lot of identity-related turmoil inside them that won’t let them grasp the energy.

Guess who else teaches them? Other members of the White Lotus. Both Zuko and Azula get some swordsmanship Skills™ from Piandao, some different (and somewhat unwillingly taught) firebending technics from Jeong-Jeong and a lot of things from Bumi, including but not limited to: creative thinking, the art of patience, strategic planning, dealing with pirates and a surprising amount of rocks-related knowledge.

Bumi adopted Zuko and Azula and gave himself the role of Second Uncle. You cannot convince me otherwise.

So one day, little over a year after the siblings joined Iroh, they wind up in a city where this big circus is performing. Uncle Iroh decides to take his niece and nephew to see it. And oh, aren’t they surprised by who they see performing?

Even though Ty Lee was essentially the only one between her sisters to befriend Azula – and consequentially, the only one to periodically spend time in the palace with her –, Zuko and Iroh still have a hard time distinguishing her from the six other girls who look exactly like her, uncertainly calling her all different names before Azula snaps ‘you idiots, that’s Ty Lee!’.

The acrobat is so glad to see her friend again, because damn: it’s been nearly four years since they last saw or even heard from each other! And Zuko, I thought you were dead? This is such a neat reunion, there’s so much for them to talk about! And sure, the circus has to leave soon and so do the siblings, but Ty Lee reassures them that, if they ever needed her, she wasn’t hard to find. This isn’t the last we’ll see of Ty Lee.

Azula doesn’t let it show, but she resents Ty Lee a little bit for choosing to abandon her noble life. She really wishes she could have had a choice.

Uncle Iroh tells the siblings stories about the war that would have some day mesmerized them. But now, his opinions about those events and what he did as a prince general have changed; that, along with what the family sees in their journey – all the horrors brought to innocent people – gives Zuko and Azula a new perspective on what they used to think was a greater good. It will still take a while for Azula to understand that no, these people are no lesser than her and for Zuko to understand why any of that matters.

Iroh eventually tells them the truth about Azulon’s death. Or at least, what he knows of it: their father killed Azulon, banished them, took the throne by force and planned to gain more power at the expense of everyone. This is a lot to take in, and the siblings don’t quite believe it.

After four years thinking about it, Zuko and Azula decided to take their mother’s early words – they went to Hira’a to be safe – and formulate what for them was a reasonable scenario. They believe that Ozai never actually wanted any of this to happen. The whole family had to have been in danger, be it due to some political, social or personal threat, and Ozai wanted to take it all by himself to protect them. So he sent his wife and children away, concocted a plan with Azulon to cover for them and, once Azulon died and left him the throne, remarried to keep appearances. To Zuko and Azula, this makes perfect sense. And they thoroughly convince themselves of that.

They initiate an argument, thinking that Iroh is jealous of Ozai.

Their uncle sees these children are starting to stray from their path, but he knows this is a necessary journey for them. They will never be able to deal with reality unless they face it.

The siblings leave Iroh, planning to head straight to the Fire Nation capital and find out what really happened. Maybe now that they are older, it would be a perfect time to come back home; they surely could defend themselves from any threats.

Of course, they’ll be very disappointed to know that Ozai was just a bitch and never actually cared for any of them.

I don’t have a full formed idea about how their reencounter with their father would go down, but I say Ozai would officially banish both his children from the Fire Nation for trying to cause a commotion – which could easily be perceived as a threat. Not only that, but Zuko and Azula are the children of a traitor; cue for Ozai revealing what happened that night four years ago, confirming that he was the one to kill Azulon with Ursa’s help.

I also think that, after that day, the Firelord would have discreetly helped spread rumours about Ursa that would drag her name through the mud in the Capital – was she cheating on Ozai? Was she selling Fire Nation information to the Earth Kingdom? Was she planning a coup against the Firelord? Her crimes change from mouth to mouth. In the end, no one would take Zuko or Azula back unless Ozai wanted it. But he doesn’t. Not now, at least…

But Ozai also decides to play with his options: he plants a seed of doubt in his children’s minds; should they prove themselves useful later on, it would only take pulling a few strings for them to come crawling back to him. So he tells them that they needed to prove themselves for everyone to see that they weren’t traitors like their mother. They needed to prove their worth so that he could accept them.

Ozai goes a step further with Azula and tells her that, before his demise, Firelord Azulon had a plan. A plan to bring her back and put her in the leading, prestigious role she was always meant to get. But they needed to wait for the right time. There is a right time, Princess Azula. Your hopes were right all along, they will come for you eventually if you prove yourself.

The siblings have a lot to think about while they’re leaving the Fire Nation. They idolized Ozai so much all these years. But the undeniable truth came crashing down on their heads, spoken by the man himself. What would they do now? They didn’t think it possible, but their harsh actions made things so much worse: they couldn’t come back to their mother, they didn’t have many hopes of running into Iroh again, they can’t even set foot in their homeland anymore; Zuko and Azula are all on their own.

Maybe it’s time to turn a new leaf. It starts with them being fairly neutral, not completely loyal to either the Fire Nation or to the rest of the world. During this period, they would argue a lot about what to do or where to go next, getting separated and going their own ways before destiny makes them stick together again, over and over.

They manage to get a few deals and own a few favours here and there, become known thieves as the Spirits, and maybe meet up with Ty Lee’s circus every now and again. Life is hard.

But there is one thing that is about to be a beacon in their darkness…

Time to catch up to the show. Oh, you thought I wouldn’t go there?

Part 3 coming right up!

(I know I said this would be a two-parter, but it got ridiculously long, so I split it again. Three-parter now.)

[jisungsmochi]

the coffee shop boy - njm

new coffee shop employee! jaemin / little rivalry b/w reader x jaemin hehe / just lots of teasing eachother and some fluff too 

some references to my jeno imagine for my nct dream job au series! 

link to my masterlist so you can read the others! 

a/n: inspired by katie & aiden’s story in ‘alexa & katie’ on netflix! pls stream it hehe 

word count: 3.9k - hope you all enjoy :) 

//

the first time you met na jaemin was in front of the cafe you worked at. your manager was running a donation drive where customers could donate toys or books for the local children’s hospital. you offered to bake complementary cookies for each person who donated. so there you were, standing outside the cafe, handing out cookies. you swore you turned away for one second, when you heard someone halt infront of the stand. the person swiftly grabbed a handful of cookies, shoving one into their mouth. you turn back around, glaring at the clueless boy infront of you.

“excuse me! those are only for people who have donated” you sternly informed, the boy still not having any sign of regret,

“my bad, i just see free cookies” he smirked, taking another bite of one. you reached to grab the others that were in his hands, but he ended up pulling away before you could reach him. you felt your body tip over the table, the plate of cookies and some donations, falling onto the ground. you loudly groan to yourself, quickly standing up and brushing off any dirt on your apron. your manager, doyoung, immediately rushed outside and to his dismay, he only saw you and a broken table with cookies scattered everywhere. the mysterious boy just took off, what an asshole.

“y/n, clean this up, now” doyoung orders, as you nod. you hoped that boy never came anywhere near the cafe ever again, or you might as well just lose it entirely.  

“and then, he grabbed the cookies and took off! if i ever see him again i want to give him a piece of my mind” you rant as your friend lia listens carefully. you were both eating lunch at a random restaurant she had heard about.

“he sounds like a dick” lia shakes her head in disappointment as you both chew on your fries.

“i know right! and now doyoung thinks i’m incapable of being assistant manager” you grunt, frustrated at the events of the day prior.

“don’t be so negative! you are a loyal employee and you are good at your job. you’ll get promoted soon, i’m sure of it” lia gives your an assuring smile, as you nod along with her. you were glad to have her by your side whenever you would rant like this, it helped you not completely lose it.

“hey! cookie girl!” you heard a sudden voice echo through the restaurant. both you and lia turned to the voice calling you, only to be met with the boy from yesterday.

“you’ve got to be kidding me” you groaned, putting on a small, fake smile to greet to boy.

“fancy seeing you here, stalking me now right?” he chuckled to himself, approaching your table. lia looked over at you with a ‘what the hell?’ expression, you just widened your eyes, unsure of how to respond to either of them.

“whatever helps you sleep at night” you respond, as jaemin just smirks.

“sorry about the cookies by the way. don’t get offended but, they weren’t that good to begin with” he slyly poked at you. you wanted to give him a good lecture about how hard you worked on those damn cookies but you noticed how lia was getting concerned about your next moves. you took a deep breath before giving the boy another blunt answer,

“you’re entitled to your own wrong opinion. now may you please leave me and my friend alone?” you just shot another fake smile, as jaemin couldn’t take his eyes off you. you started feeling repulsed by just his gaze, why did he have to stare for such long periods of time?

“sure thing, see you around” he winks before heading out of the restaurant.

“who the hell was that? is he the cookie thief?!” lia’s mouth was agape as you nodded.

“he was indeed. i just want to wipe that grin off his face!” you cross your arms in frustration. lia just rolls her eyes,

“he’s kinda cute, don’t you think?” she starts to wiggle her eyebrows as you throw a fry at her.

“you have a boyfriend!” you begin to tease as she starts blushing,

“jeno doesn’t need to know” she jokes as you both begin laughing.

(a/n: yes the jeno here is from the bubble tea girl au hehe) 

you were happy that lia had a boyfriend, but it often made you feel distant from her. you felt like you couldn’t ask her to hang out as much, incase she had plans with jeno. you knew that she would have dropped everything to hang out with you, but you still felt guilty if she ditched jeno like that. you wished that you had a boyfriend of your own, so you could hang out all together without the awkward third wheel vibe. but that was a long shot for you, or so you thought.

//

it had been a solid two weeks since that interaction with jaemin, in which you still didn't know his name yet. after constant hassling, doyoung promoted you to assistant manager.

"we have a new employee coming in today, i need you to train him" doyoung orders as you nod in agreement.

"never fear! i'll teach him everything in my barista 101 guide!" you smile, pulling out a pastel green notebook with random coloured tabs sticking out of it.

"i didn't ask, but you do you" doyoung shrugs, patting your shoulder before heading to the back room. doyoung always picked on you, but you were sure, you were his favourite employee.

you were fixing up any last notes in your guide, when you heard the bell above the door ring. you set everything aside, ready to take the next order. you look up, eyes meeting those of the boy you never wanted to see again.

"you" you huff out, eyes immediately glaring, face now stone cold.

"me" jaemin smiled widely, walking up to the counter, leaning his elbows on the top of it.

"fall on any more tables yet?" he chuckled to himself as you mimicked his words, turning away from him to continue writing in your book. he had some nerve teasing you like that.

"y/n, what are you doing? this is jaemin, the new employee" doyoung bursted out of the backroom, standing behind you. you instantly froze, looking over to jaemin who was now standing up straight with his arms crossed over his chest. he had bright blue hair, a blue denim jacket on, and that damn smirk of his plastered on his face. you couldn't stop glaring, slowing moving to face jaemin and doyoung.

"just train him well okay? i don't want to have to deal with any mess in here" doyoung sighed, walking away from the both of you. jaemin had his eyes fixed on you.

"you know just cause you're cute and all, doesn't mean this job is going to be easy" you muttered as you dig behind the counter to find jaemin a spare apron.

"oh so you think i'm cute?" you could hear the flirtatious tone leaving his mouth. you shot up from behind the counter and threw the apron forcefully at his face. to your displeasure, he ended up catching it before it could hit him. jaemin tied the apron on himself, meeting you behind the counter.

"let's get started shall we. i have written pretty much everything you need to learn in this book right here! it's a beginner's guide, with all my best tips and tricks so i-" you were interrupted by jaemin fiddling with the coffee machine, not paying attention to a single word that left your mouth. you groaned in annoyance, watching as he handed you the cup of coffee he had just made.

"try it" he urged you, observing your every move. you cautiously look at him and then at the cup in your hands. you didn't want to admit it, but it looked and smelled pretty good. you slowly took a sip of the warm drink, eyes avoiding those of jaemin. you hated to compliment him, but the boy had some skills. you felt jaemin's eyes on you, ready for your verdict.

"it's alright i guess" you sigh, trying to play off how impressed you were. jaemin just chuckled, knowing he was already doing a good job.

"i don't need that little book of yours, i think i'm just about perfect" you rolled your eyes at the taller boy, giving him a small slap on the shoulder.

"get to work buddy, tables need some wiping and coffees need to be made" you made your way to the cash register, beginning to take orders as customers entered the shop. jaemin couldn't help but shake his head at your bossy persona. he found it entertaining, but also quite enticing. he couldn't wait to work with you more.

//

weeks had passed since jaemin started working at the coffee shop. he never asked for any of your help, making you quite frustrated that he wouldn't even listen to a single piece of advice you had. it's as if your authority as assistant manager and his trainer, was thrown out the window. you were getting ready to start your shift, noticing jaemin drawing something on the front window with some paint pens.

"what the hell are you doing? doyoung hates it when we mess with the window art!" you nag at the blue haired boy. jaemin just rolls his eyes, turning back at you,

"can you like stop nagging me for one minute?" he responds, continuing to draw on the window. you let out a small huff, and as if on cue, doyoung approaches both of you.

"ooo you're in troubleee" you slyly mutter, waiting for the scene to unfold. jaemin turns to face doyoung, who at first didn't say a word.

"jaemin, i didn't give you permission to do this" doyoung started, you felt yourself perk up at the possibility of jaemin getting scolded.

"but i was kind of wanting a new design anyway, your doodles are quite nice actually. keep it up" doyoung smiles, looking over at your pissed off expression. he just pats your shoulder before heading off to do business of his own.

"you can't bust me, sweetie. i'm just that good" jaemin walks closer to you, backing your up against the counter.

"you are so infuriating" you grunt through your teeth, eyes meeting jaemin’s. he had a slight kindness in his eyes. as if he was pleading for you to not to be so mad at him. jaemin chuckled softly,

"you're gonna just have to deal with it then" he leaves you stunned as he walked behind the counter, starting to take orders.

was he always this handsome?

you shook your head from your thoughts, na jaemin was utterly unbearable to be around, so why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

//

"you know what he did the other day?" you begin another rant, this time lia and jeno were your audience.

"what did he do?" lia played along, looking over at jeno who was invested in your story.

"so, you know suzy? the dreaded middle aged woman who always complains about her coffee having too much sugar? yeah well, jaemin served her the other day and she complimented him! right infront of me!" you started to pout. lia started giggling causing jeno to start giggling as well.

"what's so funny?" you furrow your eyebrows at the couple.

"doesn't sound like you hate him all that much to me" jeno smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you just give him a scowl in return.

"no you see jeno, y/n hides her feelings for jaemin through all this teasing, and so does he. it’s adorable" lia commented, causing you to know scowl at her.

"you guys are being ridiculous! he is so infuriating, no one can be that perfect at making coffees? especially a beginner anyway" you continue being stubborn as your friends just roll their eyes, already convinced you were in complete and utter denial.

you went home that day, thinking back to the times you felt yourself stare a bit too long at jaemin. he was so charismatic, he could practically charm any person who entered the shop. he had doyoung, the most stone cold person you had met, wrapped around his finger. he was the perfect barista, and could even do coffee art. you envied how good he was, considering it took you months to perfect your own skills. you knew that hating jaemin wasn't the way to handle this whole situation, but it was much easier than having him know that you sort of liked him.

//

you were writing down stuff in your weekly planner, it helped you stay organised with your daily tasks so you knew you wouldn’t forget anything. well, except your pastel green notebook. you swore you had left it at work, but for the past week you hadn’t been able to find it. you were slowly starting to accept that you lost it, and all your hard work over the past 6 months was for nothing. you let a soft groan, finishing up your final sentence, as you heard the boy next to you clear his throat.

“may i help you?” you move your head to face him, not realising he was already inches close to you. you immediately froze, unsure of what to do next.

“you’re slacking off, i can’t make all these coffees on my own”  jaemin smirked, like he had many times before but this time, you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was up close.

“i- well uh, yeah sorry” you stuttered, pulling away from the boy. jaemin just sighed, he didn’t understand why it was so hard to talk to you. he wanted to get close to you, possibly even ask you out, but your repeated attempts to ignore him during your shifts together had deflated his confidence. you caught yourself glancing over at him multiple times during work, watching how he interacted so kindly with customers and somehow always kept his composure when being lectured by doyoung.

you were about to close up, making sure to double check that the bathrooms were clean. as you made your way back to the counter, you caught jaemin in the act. he was reading from your notebook. the one you thought you had lost. he didn’t see you approaching, making it an even better bust.

“AHA! i knew it! you read my book” you exclaimed, catching the boy off guard, causing him to fall into his butt. you couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated reaction, before helping him from behind the counter.

“it’s not what it looks like” he just sighs, knowing he had already been caught.

“oh really? cause it looks like you were reading my book, and have possibly been following every single piece of advice in it” you continued to tease, a bright smile plastered on your face. jaemin couldn’t help but crack a smile back at you, nodding in defeat.

“yes okay, i read your book. it helped a lot! is that what you wanna hear?” jaemin could feel the redness flush his cheeks and the tops of his ears. you couldn’t help but gush over how hilarious the situation was.

“and here i was, thinking you were a barista prodigy! well na jaemin, you just got schooled!” you started getting up in his face, watching as the taller boy just shook his head at your incredibly quirky antics. he found you adorable, not that he would admit it anytime soon.

from that day onwards, you and jaemin bickered less. of course you’d still poke fun at him now and then for initially taking your book, but it was all fun and games.

“y/n look!” you heard him call, as you were both closing up that night. jaemin had smeared on a foam moustache on his face, attempting to make you laugh. you just threw a dirty towel at him, rolling your eyes at us childish antics.

“god you’re such a loser” you smile softly, removing your apron. jaemin wipes off the foam, placing the towel away, before removing his own apron.

“you know, i think that all this teasing from you, is really a way for you to hide how much you like me” his words made you freeze. you didn’t want to face him. you weren’t sure if he was kidding or not, so you opted to just crack another witty comment, to avoid any more awkwardness.

“in your dreams, i do it because you’re just easy to make fun of. it’s what friends do” you shrug, looking over at the blue haired boy. you were expecting atleast a small smile to come from jaemin, but instead, he had an unreadable expression. he approached you slowly, causing you to shuffle backwards, your back now pressing against one of the cupboards behind the counter. jaemin places his right hand next to your head, leaning closer to you. you felt your breath hitch as he stared into your eyes. jaemin didn’t want to keep beating around the bush, he needed to know how you felt, and soon.

“ so you’re telling me, we are just friends?” he mumbles, quiet enough for only you to hear. you could practically feel him begging for you to deny it, but your heart wasn’t sure if you were completely in it. of course you found jaemin attractive, who wouldn’t? but to be in a relationship or even start something more than a friendship, with anyone was a huge step for you. you had never had a boyfriend before, and watching your friends experience immense heartbreaks in the past, made you unsure of your own experiences.

“y-yeah jaemin, we’re just friends” you whisper, watching as jaemin’s face softens. you didn’t know if he was upset, hurt, or both. but you knew something was off. jaemin just nodded, packing up his things.

“have a nice night, y/n” jaemin gave you a small wave before exiting the coffee shop. you felt your heart tighten, what the hell was he doing to you?

//

“y/n, i’m your best friend and all, but you’re an idiot. jaemin clearly likes you and you have just ruined your chances!” lia sighs, comforting you the next day. you just nod, knowing everything she said was true.

“i know i messed up. i just don’t want to get his hopes up if i’m a shit girlfriend or something” you worry, unsure whether you could really show jaemin the appreciation as love he deserved.

“stop being so afraid! don’t stay sheltered! if you like him, you should tell him. you deserve to be in a happy relationship, never doubt that” lia pulls you in for a long hug and you begin t think about what you wanted to say to jaemin, the next time you saw him. you knew she was right. if you didn’t confess soon, it would eat at you inside about what could have been. it was time to take a chance.

//

at your next shift at the coffee shop, jaemin came in late. he apologised to doyoung who didn’t mind, as today was fairly slow. he would usually shoot a witty comment at you before he started making drinks, but today he just gave you a small smile without a single word. your heart clenched at how he was acting. but you knew exactly why he was doing it. you wanted to wait until closing time, to properly talk with jaemin. but you couldn’t help but notice how down he looked whilst he was serving customers. it really must have affected him a lot. you tried to talk to him during your shift, standing next to him as he was making a drink.

“h-hey, how are you?” you tried to start, watching as jaemin halts his movements. he turned his head to face you, the expression was unreadable. jaemin knew he was being petty for giving you the cold shoulder. it wasn’t like he could have forced you to like him back, especially since he hadn’t properly right out confessed to you.

“i-i’m alright, and you?” he tried to act as normal and nonchalant as possible.

“i’m okay i guess” you mumble, unsure of how to continue. you were thankful that jaemin had to serve more customers, cutting your conversation short.

you waited for the clock to strike 9:30pm, as it was time to start closing up. doyoung tossed you the keys before he finished his shift earlier that day, leaving both you and jaemin to pack up together. jaemin had finished cleaning the bathrooms and all the tables as you worked on the countertops and back area. you made eye contact with him from across the room. he looked so solemn, as if he would rather be anywhere else but here with you. you sighed to yourself, knowing what was on his mind. you approached the blue haired boy slowly. he watched your every move, his heart beat increasing with every step you took.

“i lied” you blurt out as his eyes furrowed, confused at your words.

“when you asked me if i thought we were just friends. i lied. i don’t think of you as just a friend, jaemin. i-i think of you as something more” you avoid his eyes, watching as he sets down the dirty towels onto the nearest table. he pulls your chin up with his fingers, making sure you were looking at him directly.

“why didn’t you just say so?” he had that cocky smirk on again, which would have drove you nuts before, but now you found really attractive.

“i was in denial, okay? i didn’t know if you really liked me back or not and i guess i was just scared about what to do next” you admitted, as jaemin’s lips formed a small pout.

“you drive me crazy” jaemin smiled, cupping the side of your face with his left hand, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“well so do you” you mumbled while blushing.

“just so you can hear me say it, i like you too. kinda have been trying to drop hints. you’re completely oblivious” he playfully teased, causing you to give him a small shove. you couldn’t help but smile at him as he pulled your face closer to his with both his hands on your cheeks. you move your hands to wrap around his neck, watching as his smile widened.

“bold move there” he muttered, lips brushing briefly over yours.

“can you just kiss me already?” you whine, which made jaemin’s heart burst. he nodded eagerly before connecting your lips with his. he moved one hand to grab your waist and the other was left caressing your cheek. you couldn’t believe you were kissing the same guy who stole your cookies months ago.

jaemin suddenly pulls away, mumbling,

“i knew you’d fall for me, i mean i am a catch”

“you really know how to ruin a moment don’t you?” you pull away from his completely, letting his take his hand in yours.

“yeah but we have a lot of time to have more moments, won’t we?” jaemin pulls you to his side,

“we sure will” you smile up at him, leaning in for another kiss when you were interrupted by a familiar voice,

“i freaking knew it! you two better not do this lovey dovey stuff during your shift otherwise i’m firing one of you” doyoung warmed as you both burst into laughter.

you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into with jaemin. but that was the thrill of it all. he was constantly surprising you with new things about himself. you completely adored him, as he did with you. you realised it was okay to let yourself be vulnerable, you never know what you could get out of it.

a/n: ahhh i loved writing this one! let me know if there were any mistakes! x 

[nineteenninety-six]

Escapism - Part Two

This is a bit early, I was actually going to write and post 3 imagines before this one but I struggled to find the motivation.

This is about 3k words of nonsense, I didn’t want it to be a continuous thing of them meeting at an event every so often so I tried to add a bit of a story to it and I uh don’t like the end part but it’s 5 am and I’m tired.

TW: abuse, alcohol 

Tag list for people that commented/asked (if you want to added or removed then just ask me:)) :

@stydia-4-ever​

@kingarthurscat​

@writeroutoftime​

@futuristicslimemongerbanana​

@newsieunion​

@chrisevanstan2​

WORD COUNT: 3925

[PART ONE] [PART THREE] [PART FOUR]

Stewart was silent on the drive home, something he often did, so (Y/N) paid it no mind. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he lit himself a cigarette slumped against the seat with this shirt untucked and his tie haphazardly wrapped around his neck, she could smell the waves of alcohol coming off of him and his eyes were still glazed from the drugs he had taken and she was grateful that they had a driver to take them home since Stewart was in no condition to do so.

(Y/N) helped Stewart up the stairs to their house, briefly letting go of him to open the front door before taking his arm and guiding him in and towards his bedroom but they didn’t get far as, as soon had the front door had slammed shut, she was slammed against the nearest wall and Stewart’s hands were tightly her wrists and he leant his body into hers enough so she knew that she wouldn’t be able to push him off.

“Where were you?” Stewart grit out, spit flying.

“W-what?” (Y/N) was caught off guard, not having a clue about what he was talking about.

“The afterparty. Where were you? Did you think I wouldn’t notice if you disappeared?”

(Y/N) cursed in her head, she thought he was too far gone to notice her absence but she was apparently wrong.

“Stewart, you know I don’t like those types of things.” She said meekly, not wanting to anger him any more than he was.

“I don’t care. You’re my wife, you do as I say.” Stewart growled out, “Understand?”

(Y/N) quickly nodded, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible.

“Good.” Stewart gave her one last glare before releasing her and stumbling away to his room.

(Y/N) collapsed to the floor as soon as he let go of her, her legs unable to support her any longer and began sobbing, quickly slapping her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound knowing that if Stewart heard her crying then he’ll just come back angrier.

(Y/N) slowly pushed herself up on to her feet, wincing at the pain in her wrists before silently shuffling to her room, trying her hardest not to make a sound. Once she slipped into her room, she stripped out of her clothes before sliding on her nightgown and slipping into her bed. As she laid in bed, she prayed to a God that she was no longer sure she believed in, pleading for an escape for the version of hell she was living in, one that she didn’t deserve before turning over and crying herself to sleep.

The next morning as (Y/N) walked downstairs for breakfast she prayed that Stewart wasn’t there but her prayers weren’t answered as he was sitting in his usual seat in the living room, puffing on a cigarette waiting for the maids to bring in their breakfast.

“Good morning, Stewart.” (Y/N) greeted as she slipped into the seat next to him and poured herself a cup of tea.

Stewart only grunted and (Y/N) couldn’t tell whether or not he was still upset about last night or if he even remembered what had happened the night before.

(Y/N) didn’t bother to attempt to converse with him and read over the newspaper until the maids brought in breakfast and when that came they ate in silence.

“I’m going to be in Parliament all this week, Jonathon offered to show me around and give me tips on becoming an MP so I’ll be back late all week.”

“Okay.” (Y/N) was internally cheering, practically a whole week without Stewart was probably the best thing to happen to her ever since she got married.

“His wife is coming down on Wednesday so I want you to come with me in Morning and show her around London and entertain her for the day.”

“Of course.” (Y/N) kept her answers short and sweet.

“Good.”

They finished the rest of the meal in silence before Stewart left the dining room to go, gods know where, not that (Y/N) cared either way.

(Y/N) spent the rest of the day in the library, it was pretty much the only thing she did, the only times she left the house was when Stewart was dragging her somewhere or she had to socialise with Mary-Anne and the other wives. (Y/N)’s life was boring but what could she do when the man she was married to practically kept her locked up and only brought her out when he wanted to flaunt or brag about her. She had overheard the many times Stewart’s friends had confessed to him that they were jealous that he managed to get a young woman while their wives were just as old as they were. It made her sick that these men were talking about those women like that but she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Before she knew it, it was Wednesday and (Y/N) was sat next to Stewart in the car as he drove them to Westminster. (Y/N) had thoroughly enjoyed her first two days without Stewart even though today was a slight inconvenience, she didn’t care all that much as it meant she still got a day away from Stewart. They met Jonathon and his wife outside of Jonathon’s office.

“Stewart!” Jonathon shook Stewart’s hand before pulling (Y/N) into a small and brief hug, “(Y/N), it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you too Jonathon” (Y/N) politely smiled and interacted back, knowing that if she didn’t, Stewart would be mad.

“This is my wife, Margaret.” Jonathon introduced his wife, a small, pretty blonde woman.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N).” Margaret stepped forward and shook her hand.

“The pleasures all my mine. I hope we will have a good day today.” (Y/N) smiled.

A pair of footsteps coming their way distracted the four of them and (Y/N) turned slightly to see who it was. It was Tommy Shelby and alongside him was a slightly younger woman who looked slightly liked him.

“Mr Shelby!” Stewart called out, disrupting Tommy and woman’s conversation.

Tommy looked up at the shout of his name and recognization flickered over his face as his eye found Stewart and the rest of the group. Tommy quietly murmured something in the woman’s ear before making his way over to this group, the woman one step behind him.

“Mr Langley, Mr Alexander” Tommy shook their hands and politely nodded to their wives.  

(Y/N) stared at Tommy as he stood only a few steps away from her, she had completely forgotten about him and now that she stood next to him, she remembered how relaxed and free she felt when she spent those few hours talking with him.

“This is my younger sister, Ada.” Tommy introduced the woman, who smiled.

The six of them stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Margaret spoke up, “Me and (Y/N) are spending the day in town, you can join us if you want Ada? It’s probably better than sitting in a stuffy office all day.” Margaret laughed.

Tommy and Ada exchanged a look before Tommy nodded his head in what looked like permission but (Y/N) wasn’t completely sure, she didn’t think their dynamic worked like that.

“I’d hate to interrupt,” Ada said.

“Oh it’s no problem at all is it (Y/N)?”

Suddenly (Y/N) felt the gazes of five people on her all at once, “Of course not, the more the merrier.”

Her smile was tight and forced as Margaret happily clapped.

“Let’s go, I want to experience everything I can before it gets dark!”

Stewart gripped her arm and lowered his head to talk to her before she could quickly make her escape, “Be nice. Try and get close to that Ada girl, remember I want her brother to be on my side.”

(Y/N) nodded before pulling her arm out of his grip and walking to where Margaret stood. Tommy was quietly talking to Ada when his eyes suddenly flickered to her, catching her off guard before going back to his sister.

Soon Ada made her way over to (Y/N) and Margaret and they went on their way, stopping off for brunch before deciding what they wanted to do for the day.

“So where first?” Margaret asked as soon as they stepped out of the cafe.

“The National Gallery of British Art is a short walk away, what about that?” (Y/N) asked, hoping that Margaret agreed.

The gallery was perhaps one of (Y/N)’s favourite places to visit, she found peace and her loneliness didn’t exist in the moments when she was surrounded by the paintings.

“Sounds wonderful! Let’s go!” Margaret began walking ahead, leaving (Y/N)  and Ada to trail behind her.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what to think about Margaret, she was chipper and enthusiastic and so far more tolerable than the other wives she usually has to deal with but she was sure that Margaret’s happy personality would start to grate on her.

“She’s got quite a personality eh?” Ada suddenly spoke up making (Y/N) jump in shock.

“Oh! Yeah. She’s definitely got a bright personality, that’s for sure”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ada apologized.

“It’s alright Miss Shelby, I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“I-, my last name is actually Thorne.” Ada corrected her, “Ms Ada Thorne if we’re using proper titles.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” (Y/N) was embarrassed before the second part of Ada sentence caught her attention.

“Ms..? Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” (Y/N) had made a fool of herself in the short period of time that she had known Ada.

“It’s alright, it’s been a while. I’ve healed.” Ada was quick to soothe her.

“Still though...to lose someone close and precious to you must hurt.” (Y/N) felt at ease with Ada, like how she did with Tommy.

“It does but it’s a part of life I suppose. Everyone goes through it.”

(Y/N)’s lips twisted at Ada’s statement, she didn’t think she would know that feeling, with her no longer speaking to her parents and her miserable marriage to a man who bought her, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine feeling the pain of loss.

If Ada noticed her weird reaction she didn’t say anything.

“How long were you and your husband together?” (Y/N) asked before realised how rude of a question it was, “-You don’t have to answer that! I shouldn’t have even asked you that question, it was rude.”

Ada laughed, “It’s fine. At first, we were hiding around, trying not to get caught by my brothers but then I fell pregnant and we got married and then moved to London.”

“You have a child?”

“A son, Karl.” Ada smiled at the mention of her son. “How old is he?” (Y/N) asked, smiling at the joy that came over Ada’s face at the mention of her son.

“Ten. It feels like yesterday he was still just a baby.” Ada laughed, (Y/N) joining in.

“Do you like children?” Ada asked.

(Y/N) actually paused at the question, having to actually think about it, “I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ve ever been near a child or a baby. I’m an only child as well.”

“What about children of your own? Ever think about starting a family with your husband?” Ada asked.

“No. Stewart and I will never have children.” (Y/N) was final in her response.

Margaret was still ahead of them ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ at new things she came across which (Y/N) had to admit was quite endearing.

“Your husband…”  Ada started to speak, “No offence but he seems a bit older than you.”

“It’s fine. It was an arranged marriage, he’s quite a bit older than me. Old enough to be my dad, if we’re being honest.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-Four.”

Ada scoffed and swore under her breath, causing (Y/N) to laugh, she laughed harder when Ada threw her an incredulous look.

“Tommy had the same reaction when I told him” (Y/N) explained.

“You’re not that much older than our youngest brother Finn. He’s only twenty-one.” Ada elaborated.

“How many of you are there?” (Y/N) was curious now, after meeting Tommy and Ada and hearing about Finn, she guessed there was a few more Shelby’s she didn’t know about.

“There was five but my older brother John passed away a few years ago. So now there’s the oldest Arthur, then Tommy, me and then finally Finn.”

(Y/N) sent her a sympathetic smile at the mention of her late brother, “Five siblings, what a life you must have had growing up.”

“It was certainly something. It was tough being the only girl in a family and having three older overprotective brothers.” Ada slightly scowed

“I like to think there’s a perfect in-between, between having siblings and being an only child.” (Y/N) said, slightly jealous of Ada’s youth.

“How was it like growing up an only child?” Ada asked. They were close to gallery and she found herself enjoying the conversation and the outing more than she expected.

“Lonely...my parents didn’t allow me to have friends really. After I finished school, I didn’t have any friends so I spent most of my time at home until I got married. Not that much has changed, I still don’t have friends or go out, still trapped at home. “

“Well, we’re friends and I’ll be sure to invite you out.” Ada smiled at her, causing (Y/N) to smile. (Y/N) really liked Ada.”

“C’mon you two!” Margaret called from in front of them, already at the steps of the gallery.

(Y/N) and Ada shared a silent look before hurrying up and joining Margaret. They didn’t get to have a private conversation again that day, spending the rest of it in the company of Margaret and by mid-evening that made their way back to Westminster.

The three of them stood outside of Jonathon’s office waiting for him and Stewart to come out when Tommy appeared at the end of the hallway and approached the trio, sidling up to Ada’s side.

“Have a nice day ladies?” Tommy asked.

“We did. We had a great time.” (Y/N) said. Tommy’s eyes flickered to hers.

“S’good to hear” Tommy’s eyes stayed on her, (Y/N) felt like they were looking into her soul.

The door to the office opened and Jonathon and Stewart stepped out, Margaret immediately leaping in her husband’s arms and began blabbing about what had happened. (Y/N) watched with a bit of jealousy, while she had doubts that Jonathon was a good man, especially since he was close with her husband, she knew he was a good husband and he loved his wife.

“We best get going deary, I want to get back home to Brighton before it’s dark.” Jonathon told his wife before turning around to shake Stewart’s hand goodbye, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course” Stewart shook his hand.

Jonathan dipped his head at everyone else before guiding Margaret out.

“We should go too.” Stewart walked over to (Y/N) and gripped her wrist hard. They were still sore from a few days ago but he didn’t care. He also didn’t care that he had an audience.

“I must invite you around to dinner at some point Thomas. Tell me when you’re free and I’ll be sure to schedule a day.”

“I’ll be delighted to. Let me look over my schedule and I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Tommy looked slightly angry, his jaw was clenched and his eyes hard.

“Very well. See you tomorrow.” Stewart turned around and began walking away, his grip on (Y/N)’s wrist meant that she was abruptly turned around and pulled away to follow after him, causing her to trip over her feet. She looked over her shoulder as she was being dragged away and saw Tommy frowning and take a few steps as if he was following after them before being stopped by Ada.

Tommy had ended up coming over the Friday the following week and (Y/N) was counting down the days ever since Stewart had told her. He had been at home the whole week, only sometimes leaving in the evenings and it had been driving her crazy. The brief week of freedom she had, made her crave for more.

(Y/N)’s two interactions with Tommy had left an imprint on her and she hoped and prayed that since it was a Friday night, Stewart would drink himself into a stupor so that she had time with Tommy, the man who interested her and confused her at the same time.

The doorbell rang and Stewart turned to her whilst one of the maids lets Tommy in and led him to the living room, “Remember, behave.”

(Y/N) nodded and when he turned back around, she rolled her eyes.

“Thomas! I’m glad you managed to come.” Stewart shook his hand and led him further in.

“Mrs Langley, lovely to see you again.” Tommy took her hand in his and pressed a kiss upon it.

“It’s lovely to see you too Tommy.”

Stewart pulled Tommy into a conversation leaving (Y/N) to sit there in silence, absolutely bored out of her mind, only getting up to pour Stewart drinks when he asked.

When dinner was announced, the amount of alcohol Stewart had consumed so far that evening had obviously taken a toll on him, his eyes were slightly glassy and he became much looser. During the meal, Tommy sat opposite her, on the other side of Stewart and she could feel him glance at her several times but she kept her head low and her eyes focused on her plate. Stewart was rambling to Tommy, who she was pretty certain wasn’t paying a single bit of attention to him.  

After dinner, the went back to the living room but this time Tommy had taken the seat next to her on the couch instead of one of the loveseats or chairs that sat around the room.  

Not that paid attention in the first place but (Y/N) was certain that Stewart was absolutely speaking nonsense. He was murmuring to himself and slowly blinking, no doubt on the brink of sleep and sure enough, a few moments later, he was passed out.

(Y/N) let out a disappointed sigh at the sight of the man in front of her before standing up and ringing for the footmen to come and take him back to his room.

“I must apologize.” She said to Tommy after they watched two footmen drag her husband out of the room.

“You have nothing to apologize for.  Your husband is a grown adult, you shouldn’t have to apologize for his behaviour.”

“That does not matter to the people in high society, a woman’s reputation is always tarnished by a man, even if they’re not at fault in the situation but the man always manages to escape cleanly.”

“You do not like high society?” Tommy asked as he poured them drinks, waving her over back to her seat on the couch.

“I don’t but it’s the only thing I know. I was born into it and I married into it. Many times have I laid awake wishing for a different life but I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side. I don’t doubt there are thousands of people wishing to live even a fraction of the life I live. “ (Y/N) said as she sat down, gratefully accepting her drink from Tommy.

Tommy shifted to face her, their knees touching. “Why haven’t run away? Tried to escape.”

“Run where? To who? I’m alone in this world Tommy.”

Tommy simply hummed and nodded.

“Can I ask you something?” (Y/N) asked, a sudden thought occurring to her.

Tommy cleared his throat, “Go ahead.”

“You go by Tommy, which is your nickname right?” Tommy nodded at her question, “So how much do you hate it when Stewart calls your Thomas?”

Tommy grimaced before flashing her a small grin, “I fucking hate it. My aunt is pretty much the only one to call me Thomas and she only does it when she’s mad at me.”

“Common occurrence?” (Y/N) threw a grin at Tommy, slinking into the couch, finally feeling comfortable and at ease.

“My aunt being mad at me? As common as the sun rising and setting every night” Tommy snorted causing (Y/N) laugh.

“How’s your son?” (Y/N) enquired

“Charlie? He’s good, I don’t get to see him much since I spend so much time in London.”

“You should start spending more time with him before it’s too late and if people like Stewart keeping asking you out for dinner then tell ‘em to piss off.” Her drink had certainly loosened her tongue but (Y/N) couldn’t find it in herself to care, at least not when she was with Tommy.

“I’ll be sure too.” Tommy softly smiled, “You should meet him someday?”

“Meet your son? You barely know me.” (Y/N) was surprised

“True but I trust you.”

(Y/N) stared at him in shock surprised at the sudden jump from strangers to being trusted enough to meet one’s son.

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each others company when Tommy suddenly shifted and turned so that he was fully facing her.

“I’ll help you.” He murmured to her, his eyes staring deeply into hers.

“Help me? What do you mean?”

“Runaway. Get away from Stewart.” Tommy said to her.

(Y/N) stood up and crossed her arms defensively, “You have misunderstood Tommy.”

Tommy stood up and stalked over to her, his hands on her arms, “I’ve seen the bruises on your wrist. You don’t deserve it, let me help you (Y/N).”

“Tommy…”

Tommy leant forward and pressed his forehead to hers, their noses brushing against each other, “Please”

When (Y/N) didn’t move away or say anything, Tommy slowly leant his face down and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

(Y/N) briefly kissed back before she realised what was happening and stepped back,

“You should leave.” She told Tommy, avoiding his eyes.

“(Y/N)--”

“Tommy if anyone had seen us, they wouldn’t hesitate in running to Stewart and even you wouldn’t be able to help me.”

Tommy wanted to argue against her and tell her that he could but he knew it was a lost argument and he didn’t want to upset her further so he nodded his head and bid her goodnight before pushing past her and grabbing his hat and coat before leaving the Langley House.

Once Tommy had driven far away enough, he pulled over to the side of the road and slammed his hands against the steering wheel repeatedly whilst cursing himself in his head multiple times. He didn’t know what convinced him to tell her that he’d help her run away or why he’d even kissed her. He had met her only a few months ago and yet she was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts and he wanted her away from the disgrace of a man in Stewart and with him instead, where they could be a family with Charlie and perhaps kids of their own.

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter One.

Fake Fiancé/Husband Wanted!

Yes, I know the request looks weird, but I can explain. I work a high demanding job so I can't have custody of my child unless I marry someone with regular hours and a regular nanny on call. I have the nanny, but she is a uni student and can't be here at odd hours. After gaining custody and getting a job with normal hours I am willing to pay you or we can talk about divorce settlements. Preferably someone with a stable job and a liking towards kids. If you have a child, they are welcome to live here too obviously and I will treat them like my own for the foreseeable future. Serious inquiries only, please contact me via email I have made specifically for this.

Thank you.   Louis didn't know why he was on craigslist at three in the morning after drinking himself to death's door knowing Freddie was safe with Zayn for the night. He knew that when he was drunk, he tended to do stupid things and think stupid things. He had been on this post for almost an hour staring at it knowing damn well how stupid and dangerous replying was. That didn't stop him from clicking on the email and typing out a reply. 

To Stranger,

My name is Louis Tomlinson I am a single father of a four-year-old boy. I work as a dramatic arts teacher at Abraham Moss Community. Not the best paying job, but nowhere in your post did you have a minimum annual income requirement. Despite the horrible pay I do love my job and I work at this school for free childcare at the nursery across the street my son goes to. I would like to know a bit more information about you wanting custody before I agree to such a thing. You hear so many stories about fathers taking kids to be spiteful, so I want to be sure that is not the reason.

Louis

****   It was two days later when Louis got a reply from the mysterious guy. He waited until his lunch break before he read it.  

Louis,

You are the first normal person who has shown interest in anything that wasn't money related. For that reason, I really hope we hit it off. I love my daughter so much; she is my absolute world and I video call her every day. It's not me that is the bad parent and I say this as nicely as I can, but her mother is a very absent and selfish parent, and it shows. It's funny you work where you do, my daughter is in Year 1 there.

I gave her mother the money for private school, but she spent it on a new wardrobe for herself and didn't even spent a dime on out daughter. So, she goes to Abraham. I have receipts and check copies, and everything is to prove that I am the 'fit' parent. I have tried to avoid court, but I haven't been able to have my daughter for more than a few hours in over a year. Now her mother is talking about movie to America if her boyfriend gets the promotion at the end of the twelve-month training which just began a month ago. I have a hearing in a few weeks for visiting rights so hopefully if you are still willing after hearing how much drama this will involve, we can talk about everything in person before then.

Your son Freddie, what's his custody like? He is welcome here anytime and if he lives with you full time that's amazing. Obviously, kids make this a bit more delicate, but all the more reason to see if we can try to be something more along the way? We'll discuss this more another time of course, but reply as soon as you are able to and maybe we can get coffee?

 Your (maybe) future husband.

  Louis smiled softly reading about how much the guy loved his daughter. He seemed to want the best for her, and her mother seemed to just want money. He heard about those people and he could honestly say he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe people put themselves first over their own child. Louis had three-year-old winter boots with the soles so worn out that the snow seeped into his socks, but his son always needed new boots every winter and he'd be damned if his son were in pain over too tight shoes because Louis bought a pair of boots for himself. Louis pressed the reply button and wrote a quick response.  

My future husband,

She sounds like the devil. I'd be happy to help you if you don't/haven't found anyone better. I have the same lunch hour every Monday through Friday from 11-12 and there's a small coffee shop around the corner I can make it to for the hour. Then my best my mate has Freddie a weekend a month and then me mum has Freddie for another weekend. Usually it goes me mum, myself, best mate, and myself again. So, to make this believable we have two weekends to have "been together". Freddie is mine solely, I'm a carrier so I had him, and his other father ran out a few months after he was born. Ran off with a younger boy without a child and without a scar on his stomach. Let me know when you're available for that coffee.

Louis

  ***********   Harry emailed only three people Louis, Matthew, and Brian. Matthew and Brian didn't have kids, but they said they liked them. Matthew kept asking about his monthly income which he kept avoiding and Brian asked how big he was and if sex was involved. Harry wouldn't say no to sex of course, but to ask someone's size. He ended up blocking him when he got a dick pic. Matthew then asked how much the wedding would total up to and if they were wearing designer suits, so he ended up blocking him as well. Louis was interested in his reason of doing this and he had a child so knew how real this had to be for kids. He knew what it meant to be a full-time parent and put the kid first. So, he was so far the best candidate and he never even asked about his job or finances. So, after checking his schedule he emailed him and told him he'd be able to meet Thursday during his lunch at the café he knew Louis was talking about.   He got off a rare 38-hour shift Thursday at ten, so it gave him time to make it to the school for a quick minute to see Maddison. He walked into the building still in his pink scrubs and lab coat on as well, but that was because he hadn't taken it off so use to having it on all the time. He headed up to the front desk smiling at Amy.   "Hey Amy, is Maddison available for just a minute? I know she's in art right now."   "She is, however, she's over at the other side in Mr. Tomlinson's room. He's her favorite teacher and she goes there every art class and sometimes when her mother is late for pickup, he stays with her. I can take you to his room."   "Louis Tomlinson?" Harry questioned not believing it for a second   "Well, she calls him Mister Tommy."   "Oh that's- no kidding yeah she told me about him. He gives her candy whenever she gets a good score on her writing or reading." Harry said grinning   "That's him. He seems to be everyone's favorite. I'll take you to him-"   "No, it's okay. Can you just tell her I stopped by? I don't want to disturb her."   "Are you sure?"   "Yeah, it's fine. Thank you, Amy." Harry left the building and headed to his Murano. He waited in the parking lot for a little while as he went through their emails over the past few days. Harry had told Louis his name and that he worked as a doctor. He wanted to get into neonatal care, he already had the training and everything he needed there just hadn't been an opening yet, but the hospital was expanding their Neonatal Ward and Harry had already talked to his higher ups about working there. When he finally got to the cafe, he was only a few minutes later because he got lost in his own head in the parking lot. Harry got out of the car and headed inside up to the front desk. Louis' Gmail account had a picture of himself so when he looked around the cafe it was easy to spot Louis sitting at a booth as he looked down at his phone. Harry grabbed his cup and headed to the booth nervously then set the mug down and slid into the other side. Louis looked up from his phone and smiled.   "Hey." Harry said   "Hi. Sorry I was texting one of the nursery staffs about Freddie. He had a rough night last night so he's having a bad day today."   "Is he okay? Bad dream or something?" Harry asked concerned   "He has a problem of staying asleep, we live in the apartment complex and our upstairs neighbors stay up all night yelling at their game system."   "Melatonin. My mom swears by it when I was a toddler. I had to give mine some when she refused a nap even though she was exhausted a few years ago." Harry told him   "They have melatonin for kids?"   "Yeah, definitely get some for him if he wakes up at odd hours of the night. Also, you know my daughter."   "I do? I know a few Year 1, but not a lot. Who is she?" Louis asked   "Maddison Styles." Louis eyes widen and he grinned   "Yeah, I was just with her. She comes to see me every Tuesday and Thursday during her art class. She has a hard time concentrating in the room, so I took her to mine. I have a free period anyway, so I don't mind."   "Yeah, she's too much like me. Her and I have a sensory overwhelm with too much noise. We also have dyslexia, terrible dyslexia, mine is controlled most of the time now, but she's not doing so good with her reading or writing because she doesn't get at home help."   "Yeah, I figured that out when she wrote her name as Mabbison or Wappison more than a few times." Louis said grinning making Harry laugh nodding   "I had to get five different papers for her birth signing because I was so emotional when I was spelling her name, I messed it up. My mom had to take me to a quiet room and call me down before letting me write again. If was horrible. My patients look at my writing and I can see their confusion build as they try to decipher my spelling." Louis laughed covering his mouth with his hand, "anyway um I know this was meant to be a casual meeting to make sure we're not pedophiles or murders or whatever, but I did bring some copies of things just in case you want to see it. I'm not trying to make her out to be a horrible person, these are just some of the things I had copies of at home."   "Oh, now that I know you're Madison's dad and having met her mother I agree with you. She's a horrible person. I hate her. Today for example Maddison came to school in a dress without a jacket and without leggings. She was freezing, the school wasn't letting kids inside yet, so I let her in the side door to my classroom and gave her some of Freddie's sweatpants I keep in my car. Poor thing is in 3t sweatpants that stop at her shins."   "I have black leggings and a jacket in my car if you can give them to her. I always keep a small totes of season clothes for her just in case anything happens. Usually, the school calls me and tells me if something like this happens and usually, I'm at work so I have to ask someone to bring them for her. A few days ago, her teacher called me and told me Maddie came to school in dirty clothes and when I got there Maddie was in the nurses’ station crying. Apparently, her mother hadn't washed her clothes and that was all she had there. I called her as soon as I left the school and told her is, she didn't wash my daughter's clothes by the end of the day I'd report her to child services. Needless to say, that hasn't happened again, but September hasn’t even ended yet so who knows."   "Yeah, I can take them to her. I don't see how a parent can do such a thing. I always wash Freddie's clothes first then I do his bed sheets then I do the towel then I do my clothes and bedsheets last."   "Yeah, I wash her stuff at my house every two weeks so if I get her out of the blue, she has clean clothes and sheets."   "How long has it been since you last had her?"   "Her mother dropped her off at the hospital when I was working a few weeks ago but she came back right as my shift ended. Maddie was so upset because she thought she'd be able to stay the night. The last time I've had her over night was 16 months ago and I had for her two days because her mother and boyfriend were at a resort for the weekend."   "I couldn't imagine that." Louis said shaking his head, "Freddie is my world. I couldn't be separated from him. I barely manage a weekend away."   "So, does he call you Papa? I know that's the more traditional term for carriers."   "Yeah, most of the time. If he's upset, he'll call me mommy or mama. I am one of the lucky ones able to nurse, at least with Freddie. I heard some can't for their second child or third child. I think with every child the chances get lower. He called me mommy or mama until he was two and a half, so I think it brings him comfort. I don't mind either way."   "That's sweet. I wish I were a carrier. My sister and I had to play mommies and aunties instead of mommies and daddies because I always wanted to be the mommy. I'd shove the baby doll under my shirt and go through labor with my stepdad and everything. My mom held the seat rag to my forehead. We went all out, I demanded it. We were all convinced I was a carrier, then when I was seventeen, I  got tested and I wasn't. I was devastated. I cried so much; I remember convincing myself I was straight for years after that. That's how I got Maddison." Louis laughed unable to help himself   "You're joking."   "No. Not one bit. I thought if I wasn't a carrier there was no point in being gay, so I went straight."   "I was the complete opposite." Louis said, "I was always the daddy, I'm the oldest of five sisters and my mom finally gave me a brother a year ago. Two sets of twins. I demanded to be daddy because I didn't think I was a carrier. I thought I was straight until probably sixteen."   "Really?"   "Yeah, I just never really thought about it, I guess. My first boyfriend was when I was seventeen and we dated until he left after Freddie. I had him when I was twenty on March twenty-first and graduated early. He's turning five next year."   "You had him in school and finished your studies early?"   "Yeah, it was really hard, the first year was terrible, but I got my degree and took the first job I was offered that had the best benefits for us as a family."   "That's amazing. We had Maddison when I was in my foundation programme. I was twenty-four. She was born on May twentieth, so she'll be six two months after Freddie turns five. I started working at twenty-six. Hannah and I split then because I had to work so many night shifts, so she started cheating while I slept during the day. She took Maddie and left. We've been fighting since."   "So, you're thirty?"   "Almost thirty. Still in my twenties for four more months."   "Can't relate. Still got a few years." Louis said smirking making Harry throw a walled-up napkin at him. "Well, you look good for thirty." Louis teased   "Twenty-nine."   "Same thing." Louis said grinning as he watched Harry shake his head grinning as he stared off to the side before their eyes met. Louis knew that even if nothing came from this marriage besides Harry gaining his daughter, it wouldn't be a horrible marriage of convenience. Which made him feel better and he could tell Harry was relieved as well, both glad this wouldn't be a disaster.

 “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me.” Harry said, “Especially considering how this came to be. I mean I know you see Maddie with her mom, so you understand some of it, but if you want to ask more feel free to do so.”

 “Besides the obvious reasons why go to craigslist?” Louis asked

 “Last resort? It had to be someone my friends didn’t know so I couldn’t ask anyone at the hospital. I tried dating, but it never went past a few texts. Having a daughter that I want full custody of sort of makes men run away. They don’t understand why I can’t just get a weekend a month and be happy with it. I’ve tried explaining the situation, but they don’t get it. Then it’s also my odd hours of my schedule. I’m a doctor at the hospital so I’m off and on and on call a lot. Makes it hard. My schedule is pretty tame, but it’s a pain to get use to and stuff like that.” Harry explained

 “Yeah, I get that. With Freddie…he’s my priority and obviously before I fully agree to anything, he has to like you too, but that can wait a bit. Make sure you’re not a weird murderer or something.”

 “Fair enough.” Harry said chuckling, “So I guess um…why did you offer to help? I know with a son this makes it more delicate, I mean obviously I’m hoping once we settle in, we can try for something real, but why offer?”

 “Any parent who wants to see their child should be able to. I would help anyone who was sincere enough. If you were one of those fathers trying to take their child away from their mother out of pettiness then I’d walk out of this building, but I’ve met Hannah. I’ve seen, I’ve seen the clothes she drops her daughter off in while she’s wearing the newest Gucci purse or whatever. I’ve been talking to school about it since the first day, but there isn’t much we can do. We can record it and file it away incase you ever need it for court, but unless she comes to school with bruises or starving, we don’t have grounds to call child services.”

 “So, Freddie’s other father?”

 “If he ever contacted me, I’d let him see Freddie. I’d talk to Freddie about it first, make him go to the first meeting and if he didn’t want to see him after that? I don’t know. Freddie has asked and I told him the truth, that his other father left a few weeks after he was born. So, it’d be Freddie’s chose after the first meeting and anyone I see would obviously at least respect that. They don’t have to like it or agree with it.”

 “I think people can change if the right person comes along. I hope for Freddie’s sake he contacts you a better man than when he left, but I also hope that if he hasn’t changed that he doesn’t drag Freddie into daddy issues.” Louis cracked a smile and nodded

 “Me too. They’re not fun.”

 “No not really. My biological dad left leaving my mom to feed two kids on one minimum wage paycheck. My stepdad came along and changed our lives basically.”

 “My biological father left when I was born. My stepdad came along and gave me his last name so he’s my dad. Then he and my mom split, and mom is married to Dan now. She just had twin girl and boy two years ago in February.”

 “Awe really? That’s sweet. I’m the youngest out of two kids. I have an older sister.”

 “I’m the oldest of seven kids. Goes me, my sisters Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy are twins then Doris and Ernest are twins and my baby sister and my only baby brother.”

 “That’s a lot of sisters.”

 “Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of handling little girls. I was six when Lottie came around, so I’ve been through it all.”

 “Well then I won’t stop Maddie from painting your nails a pretty pink color when I can’t be her victim in her nail salon. If she’s still into that stuff.” The last part was said sadly as he looked away

 “She is. If she’s done with her art assignment early, then I let her color my nails with markers. It washes off by lunch, but she doesn’t need to know that. She’s great. She is one of my favorite students in that school, whenever we see each other in the halls she absolutely has to shout hi Mr. Tommy each time. My students probably think she’s my niece or something. They call me Mr. T all the time and try to encourage her to do the same however I think she’s too shy to.” Harry was grinning as he played with his napkin listening to him

 “She’s very social. Always has been. There probably isn’t a stranger in the world she wouldn’t talk to. It’s a bad and good thing. I’ve tried to explain it to her, stranger danger and everything and she understands it, but I don’t think she realizes even a little hi can be dangerous in this world these days. Her mother scares me to death, I’ve seen Maddie run right upfront of cars sometimes and I swear my heart stops.”

 “Yeah, I’ve seen her do it too and it’s always the arrival or departure teacher stopping her from getting hit. Hannah will walk her to the crossing way but not to the actual sidewalk so it’s not the easiest thing to watch when I’m on duty. We can’t leave our posts except for emergencies so I have to navigate kids and cars and then watch her and make sure she’s safe. It’s ridiculous sometimes.”

 “Well thank you for doing what you can.”

 “It’s not much, but of course. I’d do it for any kid. Just thinking about Freddie in the same situation I would probably do the same thing you are. So, for now I’ll help, Freddie is what will be the deciding factor.”

 “We’ll talk more and figure it out?”

 “Yeah of course. I should go though I need to get back early today. I forgot today is Pop quiz day, my kids are going to hate me.”

 “Don’t worry about it. Thank you, Louis.” Harry and Louis stood up and walked out together, “My number is in the file I gave you so feel free to text me instead of emailing me if you want to.”

 “Alright. Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

 “Bye.” Harry and Louis were luckily enough to have parked on opposite ends of the car park, so they didn’t have to awkwardly walk beside each other to go to their respected cars. Harry grinned as he looked at the picture of Maddie, he stole off her mother’s Facebook. It was on her fifth birthday party; one he hadn’t been invited to or hadn’t even been told about. She was dressed in a flowy baby blue dress and her hair curled and she was half smiling as she sat on a chair surrounded by a few presents. He touched the picture that was hanging about his rear-view mirror before he sighed sadly and let it fall from his fingers before he started his Murano and headed out of the car park.