#she used to do beauty competitions as a coordinator but then started to do

[actualtree]

Decided to design one of my OCs bedrooms in animal crossing as a little treat for me

And I also dressed up as said OC for fun

#for fun plus I don’t normally like dressing my character up in fem clothes #acnh letsgray #I have so much lore for why her room is the way it is #A: she dismantled her former bed hence the boxes #she dismantled it because she was stressed and was like. well no one is going to stop me #B: she has a bunch of music boxes because she thinks ballerinas in music boxes go under appreciated so she collects old ones #C: she’s a Pokémon OC and a coordinator so she has fun little outfits #she used to do beauty competitions as a coordinator but then started to do #tough competitions where she partakes in doing some stunts alongside her Pokémon <- she’s a little self destructive #and all the cutesy decorations and pink is part of her trying to fulfill the expectations put upon her by her deadbeat parents #anyway I love my OC Yvette so badly

[tamayosclinic]

hei! sorry for requesting something you dont write:( I totally forgot to read the pinned post, but it will be just as fine if you do poly, male reader, tamayo and yushiro!

Tamayo x M!Reader x Yushiro

Warning(s): Smut Below Cut

Author's Note(s): I couldn't come up with a scenario so I went for general headcanons. Enjoy.

Word Count: 470

Courting Tamayo was a competition between you and Yushiro. Both of you tried to outdo each other constantly and finding work around the clinic provided many opportunities to prove your worth to Tamayo. 

Tamayo grows used to both of you saying, “I’ll do it!” in unison, then arguing with each other when she mentions a chore someone must do. Great minds think alike. You and Yushiro asked Tamayo out just minutes apart. Of course, when you both found out what the other did, an argument started naturally, and Tamayo had to step in to calm you both down. 

Both of you deadpanned when she suggested a poly relationship because she couldn’t choose between either. 

Things are awkward at first. You and Yushiro set up a schedule on who spends time with Tamayo each hour of the day, but more than often, it ended up with you both wanting to spend more than your due time with her, so you threw the schedule out the window. Eventually, you both grew comfortable with spending time with her together. 

You and Yushiro have always been close with Tamayo, but now you are touchy. Hugs, kisses, lingering touches, etc. Tamayo was a bit overwhelmed since she didn’t have such contact for centuries, but she yearns for it now. She especially loves when one of you hugs her from behind and buries your face in the crook of her neck while she works. 

All three of you try to go out and about more often. If not to town, then at least a walk around the garden. Tamayo looks very beautiful with the scenery of the full moon and Sakura blossoms in the background. 

NSFW

Yushiro sees Tamayo as a goddess he doesn’t dare to see in a lewd manner, so it’s up to you to make the first intimate move. Yushiro will scold you, but Tamayo talks him into joining. He is a sub for Tamayo. Whether you do anything with him is up to you. If so, he is a dom. 

He is mostly vanilla but likes to explore different positions. Spooning is his favorite, so he can hug Tamayo close and have his hands free to touch her breasts and play with her clit while fucking her. He will also mark her.  

Depending on your experience, Tamayo is somewhere between the switch and soft dom. Since she is a demon, she is open to trying kinks or positions that would have been too much for her when she was a frail human. 

Tamayo’s possible kinks include doctor/patient roleplay, scent play using her blood demon art, and blindfolding. 

If you and Yushiro share intimacy with Tamayo simultaneously, expect it to be awkward the first few times. In the end, you and him will learn how to coordinate to give her the utmost pleasure.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tamayo #tamayo x reader #yushiro #yushiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer smut #kny smut

[invisibleraven]

Phantom Carols

For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Ice Skating

Day Twenty Four: I Would Teach My Feet To Fly <-AO3!

Reggie is lounging on the couch, a mindless Rankin Bass claymation special playing on the television when Flynn comes barging in. “Hey bun-bun, how’s tricks?”

“Are you busy?” she asks without answering.

Reggie waves at the TV and emptied bowl of popcorn at his side. “Crazy busy.”

“Good. Put on actual pants, we’re going out.”

Reggie groans but gets off the couch, trading his sweats for some not ripped jeans, a fresh flannel and runs a comb through his hair. “Where we goin’?”

“I have tickets to see my favourite pair of ice dancers. Was gonna take Kayla, but she has pneumonia.”

“Gross.”

Flynn shrugs. “It’s what happens when you work with kids. Anyways, she’s sick, you’re free, Merry Christmas.”

“Taylor you had better not be using this as my gift,” Reggie replied. Flynn simply looped their arms, pulling him towards the ice rink a few blocks over. The place was packed. “Geez, who are these dancers?” he asked, taking in the giant crowd.

“You ever hear of Molina and Wilson?” Flynn asks.

“You mean the pretty queer girls who fought to do same sex pairs competitions at the Olympics? Fuck yeah I have! Is that who we’re going to see?” Reggie asks, and Flynn nods. “Didn’t they place third in the whole world?”

“Second.” Flynn replies, and Reggie lets out a low whistle, finding their seats.

The show started soon after, and it was phenomenal. The girls skated together with grace and finesse. They did a few simple lifts, but it was their jumps, twirls, and coordinated spins that had Reggie riveted. The lights of the rink made them sparkle, catching on the sequins of their costumes, and if someone were to ask him how he felt right now, Reggie would have to reply that he was enraptured.

He leapt to his feet at the end, applauding so hard his palms hurt, but those girls deserved it, just for the mastery over the form they had shown. They shuffled out, but then Flynn saw that there would be an autograph signing, and dragged Reggie towards that.

Though he honestly would have gone willingly. Maybe because of the rabbiting of his heart when the screens had shown close ups of the skaters, maybe because of how their performance made him feel. He's not sure, but he dutifully follows Flynn.

The line was long and winding, but it moved rather quickly, and soon enough Flynn was at the front, Reggie right behind her. They paid for the glossy photos the skaters had on hand, clutching them to themselves, and Reggie let Flynn go first, lest he gush all over these athletes. Then he was ushered forward.

Julie Molina and Carrie Wilson offered him sweet, genuine smiles. Reggie tries to ignore the swarm of butterflies that sets off in his stomach. “Hi,” Julie said. “Who should we say it’s for?”

“Reggie. You two… you were beautiful. Definitely gained a new fan.”

“You came without knowing us?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah, my friend Flynn brought me, and you two immediately captured me. It was like.. Poetry in motion or something. Way better than I could do,” Reggie said with a small chuckle.

“You don’t skate?” Julie asked.

“Nah,” Reggie said with a shake of his head. “I just wobble and then fall on my dignity, so I gave up trying.” He rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe if I had teachers as gorgeous and talented and sweet as you, I might have made more of an effort. Now I think I'm best off leaving it to the pros, because... wow you two are just.. amazing."

The girls exchanged a glance, and then an assistant came over, probably urging them to move it along. Carrie signed the photo, then passed it to Julie who did the same, then flipped it over to add another note. “Well, thank you for coming out Reggie. Hope we get to see you again soon,” she said with a wink.

Reggie thanked them and moved off towards Flynn, and it wasn’t until they were a block away that he flipped the paper over.

You ever want a skating lesson, give us a call

Beneath that there were a series of digits, and a small X and O.

“D-did you seriously get the number of not one, but two Olympians?” Flynn asked.

“I… I think I did?”

“If you score then I am totally calling this as your present then,” Flynn replied. “Are you gonna call?”

“D’uh. Even if it’s a prank, I’ve gotta try. Worst case scenario, I get a few free skating lessons from silver medalist. Best case...” Reggie and Flynn shared a grin. “But I’m not calling them in front of you, so you can forget it.”

A few days later, Flynn got a text from Reggie.

Reggie: Thanks for the gift

Below it was a picture of him, cuddled into Julie and Carrie as they stood at centre ice, two distinct lipstick kisses on his cheeks.

Flynn: I expect something equally fabulous in return.

And it's not two talented, famous, beautiful girlfriends, but Flynn does willingly accept the day long spa visit he gifts her all the same. Plus she forever gets bragging rights, and when the three of them have a commitment ceremony some years later, Flynn makes sure to mention it in her Best Woman speech.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #regal jewelry #julie and the phantoms #jatpadvent2022

[ask-majoko-and-pals]

Galatea the Star ⭐

Lucibelle did a post with all her pokemon, so I figured it'd be fun to do something similar!

So starting off with the rare blue-hued beauty... Lumine, my shiny gardevoir!

I found Lumine when she was just a little ralts in Hoenn's tall grass. I didn't even know she was shiny, but I adored her from the beginning! She is easily the most elegant pokemon on my team.

Next up is the toughest pokemon on my team, the brawn to absolute beauty: Saturn, my toxicroak!

I've been told Saturn is rather large for a toxicroak, but I think that's just extra muscle from doing heavy lifting and athletics for Pokemon Contests. You'd be surprised how little toxicroak actually move around in pokemon battles. I've also taught Saturn how to beatbox, and while it's impressive, it always surprises toxtricity.

Of course brains follow beauty and brawn, so my next pokemon is clever Mercury, my eelektross!

Mercury was always fun in contest battles, because every time I pull her out, someone always tries to get points with earthquake. It's always such a grand blunder, with Mercury literally above it all! I believe the "levitate" ability Mercury has gives us a unique competitive edge not just available in battle.

Everyone knows a contest coordinator's team isn't complete without a cute and a cool pokemon, and this team's charm and charisma comes from Chibi the Sylveon and Comet the Salamence!

Chibi was a tiny little Eevee when I first caught her, and her adorable attitude immediately endeared me to her! Now it might seem cliche to have a pink lil' fairy type in the cuteness category, but it's a testament to skill when you can still do something unique with what people consider "standard."

The same goes for Comet. Nobody can deny the coolness of a dragon type flying faster than a speeding jet. Those blood moon crescent wings and that fierce roar are so iconic!

And last but not least... Jupiter, the real star of my squad, the ace and center, and my starter pokemon. My quaquaval.

Jupiter was there since the beginning of my Treasure Hunt, right when I enrolled in Uva. The two of us danced together, battled together, laughed together, cried together... And it's a little cliche, but I don't know where I'd be without him! He's my number one fan.

Go big bird, go!

#rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokemon trainer oc #pokemon oc #oc #pokemon original character #original character #trainer oc #oc ask blog #ask blog

[intolerancecare]

I wonder if those HR knew that Herden, Michelle of Artistic's and Mama Bea are not really legit artist. They shouldn't have been in the props team. They were paid to make backgrounds and props while sitting and resting. Even if they don't have the skills. I know Ricky and the other Cebuano are more entitled to complain but I am so tired proving to those kinds of people that I can do the job and I will not ask for any entitlement.

I also have this perception that maybe I have to be sick so my former doctor colleague's family can have patients. Maybe they want me to pay them back big time because of the brand refresher game called Kidzonnaire that I did. Knowledge is part of the performance evaluation of staff. After 2 years of opening, we decided to do a refresher training. I remembered the conversation that I had at my former work. The doctor's husband said "I asked my daughter to make a slide as beautiful as her. She did the Who wants to be a millionaire format" That time I just finished a presentation and orientation for the employees. I have explored ppt at that time. When the plan for a refresher was brought to the table. I thought maybe I can do something like that. I decided to make the slides at home. I saw a format online. Since there is an existing template, I made used of them. It's just blue background and hexagons anyway I followed the style (too late to change since I've seen it already). I just made used of my skills in manipulating the animations including music which I also downloaded online. Very tedious job. I have to make the sound the elimination, the other effects synchronized. I have done this hacking in college just using the movie maker in one of our performance. After I finished, I showed it to our manager. She approved. We started with a pen and paper test. A school like board competition then the finals as Kidzonnaire. It wasn't perfect but I was able to pull out a show and showcase the finalists. By the way, I chose a... is it a parody? So, the audience can recognize a TV show brought into theater stage. I kinda feel that it adds excitement to the show. Just to be inclusive, I asked one artist to edit the logo and change it to Kidzonnaire. He decided to make his own design. I know that I can do it on my own, I just asked him so he can be seen too. I wanted to include others too, but they refused. I casually asked his coordinator if he can do it. He said yes and he did. I still submitted the other design to the other manager. So, he can be acknowledged too.

I sound like a braggart here, right? I'm sorry.

But you know whenever someone says I have to be magnanimously indebted to people for the little help on little success, gratefulness disappears. They don't recognize my skills. It's here yes, but they don't understand that even my animation can't be transferred via flash disk alone. I had to rush and do everything at the last minute. They will look at the bigger name and not me. I'm sorry. I know this is rude and I will sound like an ingrate, but they are all doctors from the highest state university here. I am probably nothing. I wanted to say my Kuya is bigger than you. I mean, at least in this field.

Do I have to be a regular patient? because of my posts? to KZ? the smell of the fishy vagina? delusion like all others?

I remember that effing Indian named bastard was laughing at the end of the show. Duh! He's a pretender. You like complicated password IT?

Not nice right? The boss didn't watch.

[eternally-writing]

memory lane | jjk

genre: fluff

rating: PG-13

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: boyfriend!au, one-shot

word count: 1.4k

warnings: implied sex before the story takes place

Synopsis: When you and Jungkook can’t fall asleep at night, you and him stay up chatting about past memories.

This was from a request by @carpediem1219��� (you can read the request here) !

If you have a fic request you can ask it here!

banner by me!

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

“Babyyyy, come back to bed,” groaned Jungkook, watching you move around in his bathroom.

You loved Jungkook, but you were not ready to risk getting a UTI for him so you left him in bed while you went to clean yourself up. Throwing on one of Jungkook’s shirts (which was basically a dress on you since you were so much shorter than him), you sauntered away from his sink.

“I don’t even know how you’re still awake babe, I definitely thought I tired you out tonight,” you joked as you plopped down next to your boyfriend, stealing some of the covers that were covering his lower half.

Turning over to face you, he gazed adoringly at your smiley self beaming back at him.

“Why would I need to fall asleep when I’ve got the girl of my dreams in front of me?” crooned Jungkook as he put his hands on your waist to pull you closer to him

You groaned at his cheesiness and lightly slapped his chest (you secretly loved it, but there was no way that you were going to admit that anytime soon).

You and Jungkook both led such busy lives, so you truly appreciated the quiet moments like this (which were few and far between). It felt like there was nobody else in the world but the two of you as you looked into each other’s eyes, simply enjoying the other’s presence. You felt like you were a character in a Hallmark movie; it seemed like such a fantasy to be laying in bed across from the man of your dreams, as if none of this could be real.

Instinctively, you brushed your thumb lightly over the scar on Jungkook’s cheek, rubbing circles into the small mark.

“You never told me how you ended up with this scar, Koo,” you said softly as you focused on the scar.

Jungkook chuckled, sticking out his pinky in front of you before beginning to speak.

“I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to laugh too much ok?” he said with his doe eyes staring at you.

You twisted your pinky in his, kissing the top of his finger as a promise.

“I was 10 and my brother and I only had one computer to share. He wouldn’t let me play on the computer before him so we fought until he scratched me on the cheek,” he said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck,

You did promise Jungkook you wouldn’t laugh too much, but you were having a really hard time holding it in.

“Seriously babe? All that just to use a computer? Good to know you were just as computer obsessed then as you are now,” you jeered at him (you were only slightly jealous of how much time he spent playing Overwatch with his hyungs)

You ran a finger over the small diagonal of the scar again, subconsciously smiling after knowing the story behind it.

“It must have hurt so bad - it looks deep” you said now with a frown.

“Well when my mom saw me crying with a bloody cheek she did let me use the computer that day, and she gave me ice cream too - I’d call that an absolute win in my books,” exclaimed Jungkook with a prideful smile.

Placing a chaste kiss right over the scar, you glow to him.

“That’s my boy. I love it - it’s what makes you you, yknow”.

Jungkook grinned and pulled you closer into his chest, rolling over so he was on his back, your head directly over his beating heart.

“Okay, an eye for an eye babe. What’s this scar about?” he inquired as he pointed to the small slice on your kneecap, pulling your leg closer to him at the same time.

“When I was in grade 1 the most popular thing to do during lunch time was skipping rope on the playground, and I couldn’t master the hand eye coordination to do it so I kept tripping.”

It was now Jungkook’s turn to giggle a little.

“Awe, my babygirl couldn’t skip rope?” he said with his voice teetering on a fine line between being sweet and making fun of you.

“So one time I tripped and scraped my knee on the pavement trying to jump rope and that’s when I got this scar. I remember crying on the asphalt for what felt like hours before my best friend at the time, Jangmi, found me. My mom didn’t get me to stop crying that day until she gave me 4 popsicles,” you said with a smile, looking back fondly on the early memory.

The gears kept turning in Jungkook’s head.

“wait… you can jump rope now though Y/N… right?”

You were definitely glad that you had your head on Jungkook’s chest at that moment since you could bury your head even further in his chest so he wouldn’t be able to see your embarrassed expression.

“no” you whispered out meekly, unwilling to say it any louder.

Jungkook gasped and pulled your head away from his chest, holding it now in his hands.

“Babe! that’s like a life skill!!” exclaimed Jungkook with a concerned tone, shouting way louder than anyone should after midnight.

With the way Jungkook was acting, someone would’ve thought that you were telling him that you couldn’t drive or ride a bike (you actually couldn’t do one of those… but Jungkook didn’t need to know that yet).

In the midst of his rant about the importance of knowing how to jump rope , Jungkook proposed a plan. “Tomorrow you and I are heading to the gym and you are learning how to jump rope!”

You mewled at his plan. “Babe, people have tried - I just can’t do it. You’ll have to live with having a  girlfriend who just can’t jump rope.”

Jungkook puffed out his chest and put his best cocky voice on. “It’s your lucky day Y/N. You’ve got Busan Middle School’s jump rope champion as your boyfriend to teach you.”

“Actually, Jungkook, I think it’s your lucky day. Even though I might not be able to jump rope, I do have some other special talents,” you said as you smiled smugly.  

Hauling your legs over his body, Jungkook brought your body so you were straddling him.

“Hmm, I think I might need a refresher babe. Care to show me?”

-♡-

With the moon as your only witness, you and Jungkook continued to share your favorite memories associated with all the little quirks on your bodies throughout the night.

You got to tell him all about the scar you got on your hamstring from your brief stint in competitive gymnastics, the scar on your ear from the first time you tried to curl your hair, and the scar on your back that you somehow obtained while baking a cake for your grandpa’s 85th birthday.

Despite it being the middle of the night, Jungkook still laughed and cried along with you as he heard your stories, loving the opportunity to get to know you better. Kissing each scar after each story, Jungkook smiled at how beautiful you appeared in the moonlight.

At the same time, you got to learn even more about Jungkook. Alongside the computer story, you learned that Jungkook had scars on his back from the time he swears he saw a shark while swimming in Busan (the rest of his family is 100% he just brushed up against a rock, but you know how stubborn Jungkook can be) and that he has scar on his left Achilles heel from the time he tried on his mom’s heels.

As the sun started to make an appearance in the sky again, your eyelids started to feel heavy. As you were about to drift off into dreamland, you heard Jungkook’s voice.

“you’re so beautiful - you know that right?”

Even in your sleepy haze, you still blushed at Jungkook’s sweet words.

“All these scars, all these things you try to cover up with makeup or hide, they all make you even more beautiful. I promise to never let you forget how beautiful you are to me Y/N,” confessed Jungkook as he ran his fingers softly through your hair.

The last thing you felt that night before you fell asleep was Jungkook placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You could only hope that Jungkook was as good at teaching people how to jump rope as he was at being an amazing boyfriend.

–♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡–

If you enjoyed what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #armywriterssupport #bts fluff #bts fic #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts imagine #kpop fic #kpop imagine #bangtan #eternally-writing #bts scenario

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 4: The Three Stooges 

AN: At least it hasn’t been two months again 😅. Let’s check in with the other batboys and see how they’re handling Damian and Marinette’s chaos. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Tim wondered when his day took a solid dive off the cliffs of normal and into the waters of weird.

It probably started when Dick dragged them out of bed at eight in the morning – on a Saturday – piled them into the car, and drove them an hour and a half out of the city to an IKEA. If they had actually been there to shop they would have either burned the store down or killed one another. 

Not that those things were off the table yet. 

Tim had work, actual work, that he could be doing. But no, instead he was playing a demented game of hide-and-go-seek, which was careening into an all-out war. The destroyed shelving units, shopping carts, and forklift were unmistakable evidence of that.

How had the demon spawn accomplished this in less than a minute?

Bruce would kill them, once he came back from off-world.

That is if Alfred didn’t get to them first.

“Uh, order 177? Shit, my pay isn't enough for this.”

The words shook Tim from his stupor. He walked over to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, flashing his most charming CEO grin. “I have a quick question?”

The server's fixed smile contrasted with his dull eyes.

“I need to know what way the boy who ordered this headed.”

“No.”

Tim sighed, “Look, it’s important. My brother-”

“I mean, no, it wasn’t a boy.”

Tim paused. “Huh?”

“It was a girl, a teen girl. Black hair, big blue eyes, French accent. She was sitting over there,” he waved at an empty table. “But I think she walked away before that happened.” Referring to the giant train wreck occurring a few aisles over.

“Oh,” said Tim. “Thanks.”

“Do you want the order?”

Tim held back an annoyed sigh.

“Sure.”

So that’s how he, Jason, and Dick, sat at the abandoned picnic table, staring at the abandoned meal bought with Damian’s credit card. Jason grabbed a couple of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

“That’s evidence, nitwit,” hissed Tim.

Jason ignored him, stabbing a meatball with the plastic fork. “What? It’s going to go to waste. Girlie obviously ain’t coming back for it.”

“We should be more worried about how a random girl used Damian’s credit card!”

“She could have stolen it?” offered Dick.

“Demon spawn would have broken her arm before getting pickpocketed,” countered Jason, eating another fry. Silence. A weird glint appeared in Jason's eye. He turned to Tim. “What did you say the girl looked like again?”

“Black hair, blue eyes, French accent.”

“Shit,” muttered Jason.

“What?”

“I think I ran into her earlier, about an hour and a half ago. Asked her if she had run into demon spawn – she sounded confused and tourist-like. But maybe…”

“Maybe she’s working with him?” offered Tim.

“Could be.”

“Damian? Working with another person? A stranger?” Dick shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like him.”

Jason shoved another fry into his mouth. “The brat’s a competitive little shit, if he thought teaming up would help him get ahead, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” He pointed a fry at Tim. “Can you look at the security footage?”

“I’m already two steps ahead of you,” Tim said, flashing his phone with the hacked in security camera footage on-screen. Jason and Dick huddled in close as a small girl walk on screen and stood at the counter.

“Yep, that’s her. Can you ID her, Timmy?”

Tim rolled his eyes, “This is a smartphone, Jay, not a laptop.”

“I thought Mr. World’s Second Greatest Detective would be prepared for anything.”

“Well excuse me for not having facial recognition software, on my phone.”

“Guys chill.”

“Shut up, Dick,” Jason and Tim said in unison.

The footage played out and they watched the girl order two meals and pay with Damian’s credit card. They switched to another camera when she left and sat at the picnic table. A few minutes later Jason and Tim walked into frame.

“Look, there! She tenses. Look at her body language, she’s panicking. She knows who you two are.” Dick looked shocked that, yes, Damian had teamed up with a partner.

They watched the girl panic, although she managed to keep her body from reacting too much. She placed her phone to her ear and walked away from her spot.

“Who is she talking to?”

“Maybe Damian was watching out of sight?”

“Shoot, Tim, she’s out of frame. Do we have another angle?”

It took another minute or so, but Tim found the right security camera catching the mysterious girl leaving the food court. As she walked away the image on the screen flickered, and a moment later the shelving units fell.

“Oh crap,” swore Jason. “Do you think she has magic? Fuck, it would be just our luck if demon spawn teamed up with someone dangerous.”

Dick shook his head. “It could be a coincidence. We didn’t see her do anything. The chaos could have been a coordinated effort between her and Damian.”

Tim wasn’t so sure. “Come on Dick, you’ve been in the game long enough to know just because something looks one way, doesn’t mean it's true.”

They watched the girl hurry out of sight, this time it was much more difficult to follow her progress through the store. She would randomly duck in and out of showrooms, coming out differently than how she came in. If the three boys hadn’t been trained in stealth and detection for years, they would have had a challenging time tracking her.

Jason whistled low. “Who is this chick? I’m impressed. She has serious skill.”

Finally, she ducked into a showroom and didn’t come out. Tim couldn’t find a camera giving them an unobstructed view, but it didn't matter. They had a destination.  

“This was ten minutes ago, they could already be long gone,” said Dick.

“Or they could still be hiding there,” countered Jason.

“We’ll find out when we get there.” They walked out of the cafeteria and past the closed aisles. The forklift that had been buried under the collapsed shelving unit was being unearthed by a flock of bewildered employees.

“Ten bucks says she has magic,” said Jason.

“Yeah, no.” Tim was good at math and the odds of everything happening just as she left was too big to be a coincidence. “I’m not stupid enough to take that bet.”

“Come on you guys, let’s focus here,” chided Dick.

Walking back through the showrooms Tim kept an eye out for any sign of his brother or his accomplice, but it was as if they had disappeared into thin air. Arriving at the last location they had spotted the girl, they waited for a touring couple to leave before descending on the tiny, boxed room like the detectives they were trained to be.

It didn’t take long to discover the lasered off vent.

“Shit,” groaned Jason. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“Tim can you-”

Tim had his phone in hand, “I’m already on it. I’ll have the vent layout in a minute.” He felt insulted they even needed to ask.

Jason peered into the vent, “Damn, I think we’re too big to follow.”

 Dick sighed. “I miss my vent crawling days; they just don’t make them as big as they used to.”

“That’s what she said,” snickered Jason.

“Focus you two,” Tim snapped. “I’ve pulled up the air duct plans.” He flashed the screen to his two brothers who settled down. “This particular vent runs a couple of places. We have one entrance at the back of the store in the storeroom. Then another veering off near the daycare center, and the last which comes out near the unloading dock.”

“I’ll take the one next to the daycare center,” said Dick. “I’m the only one who isn't demented,” pointing to Jason, “or sleep-deprived,” pointing to Tim.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jason.

Tim sneered, repressing a Damian-like growl, “I wouldn’t be so sleep deprived if you hadn’t dragged us out of the house at eight in the morning. I arrived in from patrol at three.” He hadn’t had coffee in hours, and the weight of his body pressed on him like a panini maker.

Dick ignored them. “Jason can take the one at the loading docks, and Tim you’ll be able to bypass security and get into the back the easiest.”

“Sounds good to me,” grunted Jason.

“Alright,” agreed Tim. “The second any of us spots them, text the group chat, will box them in from there.”

They nodded and headed off their separate ways. Despite the tiredness in Tim's bones, there was a heady rush of the hunt thrumming in his veins. Damian, and whoever he had decided to pair up with, were going down.

Tag List: (Closed, sorry!! I’m so glad you all like it though.)

@multplelifes @bluesimani @justhugefangirl @nik-nak-3@redscarlet95 @purplesundaze @incredulous-reader @k-poplunardreams @our-preciousss @blackmagicforever @vgirl-10123 @lozzybowe @wannajointhecrabcult @dast218 @chaotic-mess-of-a-life @fidget-eep @kawaiigiantjudgefish @queenmj10@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @crazylittlemunchkin @fandom-writer642 @nach0ava @ladybug-182 @sam-i-am-0222@spyofthenightcourt @how-to-fuction-properly@emotionalsupportginger @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmy-mind @mystery-5-5 @theatreandcomicfreak @weird-pale-blonde-person @whatthechickenfriedfuck @myazael@pawsitivelymiraculous @urbanpineapplefarmer @karategirl119@consumeconstantly @hauntedstudent99 @ertyzeta @thornalchemist23 @iloveitwhen @animegirlweeb@byronsacademics @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @moonlitjiminie@iglowinggemma28 @constancetruggle @catgirlkittypryde @waffelyunsure @maskedpainter @lilkymilky @unhappyraspberry @avengerthewarrior @quotesandanime @tbehartoo @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @chocolateherringtacofan @jalaluvsu @crazyrandomrebel @fatimaabbasrizvi @thenillabean @goblinwhoships @bluefyoto94 @nerinalith @loopingtangent @demonicbusiness @hecate-hallow @themcclan @tropestropestropes @paintedhope7 @whitetiger1249 @glitchon @vulpixmina @kitkat81804 @kissa-chan @beautiful-disasters-sunshine

[tracingdreams]

Tiger & Bunny S2 Pt1

It’s strange to think how long it was since season 1 of T&B. Even though I didn’t watch it when it came out, it just doesn’t feel like there’s been a lapse or a major change in style between the original 2011 series and the new.

I’m going to babble, but under tags in case people either don’t care or don’t want to be spoilered. Because I love this series, the babble may be long and rambly. Read at own risk.

Tiger and Bunny What do I say about these guys. I adore their partnership. I love how Barnaby can go into a sulk over Tiger drinking his drink and yet they still perfectly coordinate to take out a villain. I love them being awkward ‘senpai’ to the others in the teaming up department. I love how Barnaby is no longer so easy to sway on Tiger’s loyalty. I love that Barnaby has filled his house with plants and that he talks to them constantly. I just love the two of them. Nuff said really. Though their partnership has clearly evolved, it’s a beautiful thing. And of course, now Kaede knows everything, it’s like Barnaby is part of her family, too. Not that I’m suggesting anything. Even though sometimes I think the animators are, when they have Tiger say things like, ‘yeah, we’re friends, but it’s not just that’...

Also, it’s absolutely not at all suspicious that Tiger has his wedding photo, his picture of him, his wife and Kaede as a baby, and then a picture of him, Barnaby and Kaede lined up on his shelf together in that order. Like, not at all.

Ryan and Blue Rose So in the movie, I wasn’t really sure what to make of Ryan. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, but he also seemed a bit full of himself. However I really like his character in season 2. Getting a bit of backstory, seeing his insecurities as he works out his partnership with Blue Rose, and also him getting on Subaru’s case over Barnaby’s reasons for becoming a hero...I feel like he really fitted into the team well now and he belongs. Karina is still hung up on Tiger but she does seem more mature this season. She still has the towel though. Nice detail linkup there from season 1, as was the stalker guy.

Origami Cyclone and Rock Bison Bison is always a bro, even if he doesn’t get the highest results. He and Kotetsu have a great friendship and it’s fun to see him in this role all the time anyway. But I love his really clunky partnership now with Origami. I loved Origami anyway, he’s really evolved since the start of season 1. 

Mr Black and He Is Thomas Who on earth decided that second name. It may win the most ridiculous hero name and it’s up against some big competition. I actually quite like both Subaru and Thomas although they need to learn to communicate, both with others and each other. I feel like at the end of the cour they may be getting there. Thomas’ past is so sad but the point where the couple take advantage of him is worse somehow. I hope he finds his sister. It’s also weird because although I’ve heard Shimozaki Nobunaga voice umpteen characters, this one sounds THE MOST like Furuya of all of them.

Magical Cat and Dragon Kid I don’t have strong feelings about Kid as a character, I think she’s fine. I think Cat needs to give her mother a stern talking to, but seriously, what is a fourteen year old girl doing out fighting bad guys anyway? And that it’s Cat that impales the warp guy at the end. Ouch. That’s a pretty big deal burden. I don’t hate Cat but she probably needs to be more useful. The cutesy magical girl thing doesn’t really work for me. I prefer Blue Rose, even if she does have adolescent attitude problems ;)

Fire Emblem and Sky High These two as a partnership amuse me. There’s a lot of Fire Emblem’s background in the movie which kind of makes me view them in a more informed light. Up to this point I might’ve said ‘she’, based on season 1, but after the movie, I now feel like ‘they’ is the correct pronoun here. Fire is really smart, Sky High is...not. But he is genuine and earnest and they do work together well. Sky High admitting his own personal failings - he hates celery! - was also cute.

Lunatic ...I kind of don’t understand the lack of Lunatic as Lunatic in this season, mind you. Especially since Yuri has been given particular responsibility overseeing the hero system in its new form. In fact, Barnaby and Tiger using him as a sounding board, and especially Barnaby telling him some pretty personal stuff about his feelings since Maverick’s downfall is a bit ironic. I was surprised he didn’t get involved in the conflict with the twins, but spent the whole of the first part of the season simply as Yuri and not as Lunatic. Lunatic did get mentioned in front of him a few times, and he did burn some notes...but that’s all. Is he giving up his vigilante side to be a proper judicial overseer instead? I don’t know how I feel about that - maybe he’s been converted to heroes as an entity after all. I thought his inclusion in the movie was basically pointless and jarred with his efforts to help Tiger escape Maverick’s web in season 1. Maybe him pulling back from his vigilanteeism is good continuity for that. I don’t know, though. I kind of missed him. Maybe in part 2, if it comes in the autumn?

Barnaby’s friend Mattia...

Who I spent the whole series being a bit suspicious of, seems to be an innocent guy caught up in bad stuff. I guess it’s good for Barnaby to have an actual friend that isn’t a superhero or a plant. So I’m fine with it. 

And the ending... Well. I can see Ryan’s going to have some more unpleasant things to deal with in the second part of this series. I really hope it genuinely is coming in the autumn. 

#Tiger & Bunny #Season 2 #Babble #spoilers #bring on second cour

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card  - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K  Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

---- 

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.  

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime? I have a chef friend that makes killer steak frites.”

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.  

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.

#starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #sfsummerbingo21 #bobbie writes #it takes me all the way #starker fic

[seraphsurvival]

prologue : 𝙬𝙝𝙤’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ?

following weeks of anticipation and dozens of applications it’s time to finally pick our final 12 angels to compete on 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇. have you made the right decision for our top 12 ? find out on the first episode of the most interactive koc survival show 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇.

nova and yen stood beside each other in coordinated outfits as they had their final touch ups made before making their first official appearance as the hosts of the ultimate kpop project group survival show ‘seraph’. nova and yen had been anticipating this day since they were approached to be the hosts weeks ago. who would turn down an opportunity to be a part of pop culture history? the hosts were just as excited as the audience and the score of contestants that were waiting anxiously backstage for the competition to finally begin. 

the producer stood beside the cameraman with a clipboard in her hand, she silently counted them down. both girls turned to each other and silently wished each other good luck before plastering on their best smiles. 

on queue the shows intro music played along with the designed graphics before the camera focused on the hosts. 

“hello and welcome to ‘seraph’ !” the two girls announce in unison as they cheer finally being able to unleash all their wong up excitement. 

“it’s your favourite princess nova of inter-stellar ” she spoke with a typically royal wave before turning to yen beside her , “ and your devilish angel, yen of triptych!” yen gave the camera a finger gun shot before turning to her co-host.

 “and we are your hosts of ‘seraph’!” they cheered in unison, their smiles sparkling. 

“today is a special day as we will finally discover who are the nation's angels !” yen continued on , nova nodded along focusing her attention on the shorter girl as she awaited her queue. she elegantly brushed her hair behind her ear.

“for those of you who do not understand how this part of the  show works here’s a short rundown. we sent out an announcement and dozens of idols within the industry have sent in their audition tapes to prove why they believe they deserve to be your favourite angel. we then opened up voting and let you decide who the top 12 are and we will be announcing them tonight !” 

“but before we get to the angels let’s introduce our amazing judges ! “she smiled charmingly to the camera before it panned to reveal the panel of judges.

“first up we have the outstanding performer and ex wonder girl sunmi !” sunmi stood up with a smile as she waved to the camera and the audience before sitting back in her seat. 

“next to her we have the queen of stage presence and rap herself hyuna !” the rapper stood up covering her mouth as she blushed. she bowed before taking her seat again. 

“and lastly we have the multi talented dance master : bts’ j-hope !” he struck a pose as he stood up ,  his face broke out into its iconic heart shaped smile as he bowed respectfully and sat back down.

the camera panned back to the girls as they applauded each of the insanely talented judges they had lined up.

the applause died down and the giant projector screen behind the hosts showed the collection of thumbnails of the audition tapes the show had received.

“all of the videos behind us were uploaded to the ‘seraph’ official youtube and website and you as the audience were able to vote all through the week. there was so much talent to pick from but only 12 have made it as your angels. who will spread their wings and who will have their wings cut ? “ yen nails the dramatic tone of the statement as her words builds up the tension in the studio. 

nova clears her throat before she spoke , “in no particular order these are your angels :” she paused for 3 theatric seconds before finally announcing the competition lineup.

“our first angel is ricky of @unholiied​ !” the entire room applauded as ricky’s audition tape played on the giant screen.  she walked up onto the platform from backstage in complete shock. her hands covered her face the entire time as she stood as the first angel. 

“next up we have mimi and eden of @inter-stellar-jyp​ !” nova couldn’t mask the pride in her voice as she watched two of the youngest members of her group move up onto the platform. their auditions played side by side as mimi stood eyes huge and jaw dropped. she was not expecting to be announced. eden bounced excitedly holding onto mimi’s hand as they stood beside ricky. ricky gave the two newest additions a polite bow and round of applause.

the studio’s attention was on the hosts once again as they awaited the next angel. “ our next angel’s are  dahlia of @d3adfl0wers​ and chloe kwon ( @chloekwon​ ) !” the studio applauded as both girls excitedly made their way to the platform bowing along their way . they took their spots beside the already present angels as they tried to mask their excitement and shock. 

“next we have jay of @dulcetgg !” the sixth angel’s squeal could be heard faintly off camera as she just about skipped up to the platform. her audition played behind her as she bowed taking her position. 

“we’re already half way through the angels. judges, how are you feeling looking at our beautiful angels so far?” yen asked. the camera switched to the judges panel and focused on sunmi. 

sunmi chuckled softly as she looked up at the girls. “i think the audience has picked an outstanding amount of talent tonight. all of these girls deserve to be where they are.” 

hyuna and j-hope nod from the seats beside the other judge. 

“definitely! there is so much range and talent on the stage right now and we’re just getting started! i can’t wait to see what they have to show us,” hyuna added on making all the current angels bow with bashful smiles.  

“the angels are already the strongest lineup in history! i’m so excited i want to know the next six. i’m dying at this point.” j-hope joked, making the studio laugh lightly as the camera focused back on nova and yen. 

“thank you, judges.” yen nodded in appreciation before turning her attention back to the main camera. “it’s time to reveal our final six angels.” 

“our seventh angel is ...” nova paused as she looked over at yen expectedly. “ame of @triptychexe !” yen’s face lit up as she turned to see her group mates reaction. ame shook her head in disbelief as she walked to the platform. behind her, her audition tape played. yen didn’t even bother to hide her pride as she gave ame a smile and a thumbs up. 

“our next set of angels are… summer of @se4sonz,  jade of @nct-krown and haeju of @hcney-moon!” yen announced. the 3 girls walked out one after the other, their proud smiles mirroring each other as they moved onto the platform. the other angels congratulated them as they joined the flock. just as the energy in the studio had reached it’s peak, the lights overhead dimmed, hushing the audience and the contestants into silence. a sudden tension draped over the studio as nova brought the microphone to her lips. 

“on the platform behind us we have 10 beautiful angels. there are only 2 spots left. for many of our applicants this is the end of the road.” nova said somberly. “who will be the final 2 angels?” nova’s seriousness created anticipation as she looked over at yen, who had the task of announcing the most anticipated angels. 

“and our final angels are ...” she paused with a deep breath yen looked down at her cards before looking into the camera once again with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “baebi of @whileinvenus and yuri of @cube-vivid !” 

the final 2 girls came out hand in hand. baebi waved at the judges and audience as she walked up to the platform confidently, a stark contrast to the glossy eyed yuri beside her. her shock and relief was evident as she looked up at her audition and wiped at her eyes before waving along with baebi. the 2 took the positions at the very front of the flock completing the angels of ‘seraph’. 

“yuri , what has made you so emotional this evening?” hyuna asked from her spot at the judges panel. 

yuri was handed a mic from a staff member as she thought of a coherent reply. “ um,” she laughed softly as baebi wiped at her eyes, gently  trying to save her makeup. 

“i’m just so thankful to have made it, i didn’t think i would.” she replied, her eyes already welling up again. 

hyuna nodded , “but now look !” 

“you’ve made it , you all have !” nova rhapsodized making the studio fill with praises and cheers. 

“you’ve made it girls- i mean angels ,” sunmi broke out into a wide smile as soon as she corrected herself and that smile reflected on each of their faces. 

“congratulations angels !” j-hope exclaimed into the mic. the angels yelled in excitement on the stage matching his energy. 

“ladies and gentlemen, your angels of ‘seraph’!” yen and nova chorused gesturing to the platform allowing for the cameras to fully focus on each of the contestants.  the shows official music is played as they each got their solo shots with their names and groups written beside them. 

“that’s it for this episode! stay tuned to see how the angels spread their wings and soar through weekly challenges and compete to be a part of the ultimate koc super group  !” yen announced with a bright smile as she threw an arm around nova’s shoulders, bringing the other girl in for an adorable side hug. 

“thanks to everyone who participated and we’ll see you next week !” she laughed brightly  copying yen’s movements. 

“bye !” the 2 hosts waved at the camera before it focused on the rest of the people in the studio. 

the camera cut between the judges standing  up from their chairs to applaud the girls and chatting amongst themselves and the angels on the platform as they happily hugged one another.  the excitement was so thick in the atmosphere it was palpable. the sound of congratulations and the official ‘seraph’ track played as the credits rolled. 

‘seraph’ has officially begun.

*results below ! *

#[ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇 ] : ゝ ʚ fly me to the moon ɞ #aeskocnet #bbkoc #kpop idol au #kpop idol oc #idol!oc #idol!addition #idol au

[multifandomfanfiction]

Beauty and the Genius Chapter 1

TITLE: Beauty and the Genius Chapter 1 PAIRING: Spencer/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: 1/? SUMMARY: When David Rossi joins the team, so does his daughter Gwendolyn. But what happens when she and the resident genius start developing feelings for each other? How will it affect Rossi and Reid’s team dynamic?

[A/N - Updates to this will be sporadic because I’m only working on this until the inspiration hits me again for my Doctor Who fic. So we’ll see what happens with this.]

“Guys, he’s here!” Spencer said.

The new agent entered the BAU led by Strauss. A small brunette young woman followed after them.

“But who’s the girl?” Morgan asked, as Spencer took off his mask.

Spencer’s eyes met hers and she gave him a small smile. Spencer offered her a shy smile back as his cheeks turned pink.

Strauss, Rossi, and the girl made their way up to Hotch’s office. Strauss knocked on the open door. “Agent Hotchner,” she said, “I’m sure you remember…”

“Dave.” Hotch smiled and approached the older Italian man.

“How are you, Aaron?”

“I’m good. I’m great.”

The two men embraced.

“I would say so. You remember my daughter, Gwen?”

Gwen smiled. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Hotchner.”

“Oh, please. Call me Hotch,” he told her. He turned back to Rossi. “Saw you on TV last week. Can’t believe you want to come back here.”

The two men looked at Strauss.

“Well I’ll let the two of you catch up. If you need anything, I’m in my office.”

“Thanks,” Hotch said and Strauss left. “So how long has it been?”

“Dinner, almost three years. But the last time I was in the BAU, you were sharing a desk with two other agents in that god-awful bunker we were in.”

“I remember.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Well there’s one just like this next door if you’re interested.”

A blonde woman entered the office. “I’m ready to give the briefing.”

“Agent Jareau, this is SSA David Rossi and his daughter Gwen,” Hotch introduced.

The blonde shook Rossi’s hand. “Hi. Everyone calls me JJ. It is such an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Thank you. And what’s your function here?” Rossi asked.

“I’m the communications coordinator and liaison. Pretty much the go-between for the team and the rest of the world,” JJ explained, “So I’ll gather everyone.”

“We’ll be right there. Oh and JJ?”

“Yes sir?”

“Could you introduce Gwen to Penelope? Penelope will be helping her get settled in.”

JJ nodded. JJ shook Rossi’s hand again. “It is so nice to have you here, sir.”

“Great,” Rossi said.

Before Gwen left with JJ, she looked at her father who nodded. Gwen nodded back and followed JJ out.

JJ led her into a dark room. “Penelope…” JJ said.

Penelope stood up and immediately hugged Gwen. “You must be my new ward!”

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. Penelope, when you’re ready we’ll be in the conference room.”

“Sure thing Jayje!”

JJ left the room and Penelope stepped back to get a good look at Gwen. “Oh! My name’s Penelope Garcia, but you can call me anything you want Sugarplum!”

Penelope was a bubbly blonde with a pink streak in her hair. Her glasses were brightly colored, along with her entire outfit.

“Gwendolyn Rossi, but please call me Gwen,” Gwen told her.

“Rossi? As in Rossi Rossi?”

“Uh…yeah. He’s my dad.”

“You mean he’s your…”

Gwendolyn hushed her. “Please. Please don’t say anything to the rest of the team.”

“Woah. Of course I won’t say anything. It’s not something you should feel ashamed about or anything. It happens all the time.”

“I know…it’s just…it’s hard to explain.”

“Don’t fret mon ami. Now, I have to deliver this file to the team, which means I get to introduce you.” Penelope looped her arm in Gwen’s and they made their way up to the conference room. Penelope opened the door and found a bloody face looking back at her. Penelope immediately threw the file up to block her face. “Oh my god! What is that?”

Instead of being disgusted like Penelope, Gwen walked over to the table and picked up one of the pictures. “Interesting. Looks like a scalpel or something was used. There’s no way this could’ve been done by animals or anything.”

Everyone was looking at her.

“Um, hi,” Gwen said.

“Beauty and brains. Looks like you might have some competition, Pretty Boy,” Morgan quipped.

“Technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, this is SSA David Rossi,” Hotch introduced.

“Is it gone, JJ?” Penelope asked.

JJ hit a button on her remote and it disappeared.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re safe.” Penelope lowered the file. “Ok. Just to…um…Carrolton, Texas has nearly 117,000 residents. A diverse population with a…” She handed the file to Hotch. “It’s all in there. I’m sorry.” She turned to Rossi and shook his hand. “Very happy to meet you, sir. I’ll be in my office.”

Hotch cleared his throat and Gwen looked up from the picture. “Oh, sorry.” She put it down in front of the guy from the bullpen.

“Sugar cookies,” he muttered.

Gwen blushed and stood up.

“I’m so sorry! It’s just I smelled your perfume and…” he rambled.

Gwen giggled and said, “It’s okay. It’s my favorite. My dad bought it for me.”

Penelope grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. “Sorry. We’ll just…” Penelope shut the door and squealed. “Oh my god! You were totally flirting with Spencer!”

“I was not! I was just being nice.”

In the conference room, Rossi said, “She’s different.”

Hotch playfully shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“Okay, is someone gonna explain to me who the girl is?” Morgan asked.

“Gwendolyn Rossi,” Hotch said.

“Wait. Rossi?” Emily asked, looking at the man.

“My daughter,” Rossi said, his eyes on Spencer.

Oh god, Spencer wanted to die. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl, but it just HAD to be his new co-worker’s daughter.

“She comes to use with a very different set of knowledge and skills,” Hotch said.

“What kind of knowledge?” Spencer asked.

“What kind of skills?” Morgan asked.

“In addition to being well trained in every firearm the FBI has license to use, she has extensive knowledge of the occult,” Hotch explained.

Morgan’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face. “The occult? Since when does the FBI investigate the occult?”

“We don’t…officially. She’s here in a consultant position.”

“If you can’t beat ‘em, hire ‘em,” Spencer said.

“And Strauss approved this?” Morgan asked. It sounded like nepotism to him.

To Spencer, she sounded like even more of a dream come true. She probably loved Halloween as much as he did.

Penelope helped Gwen get situated at her desk. It wasn’t quite in the bullpen, like the rest of the profilers, but off to the side. As Gwen was getting settled, a shadow appeared over her. She looked up and saw Spencer. “Oh, hey Spencer.”

“You…you know my name?” he asked.

Gwen laughed. “Penelope explained who everyone was.”

“Oh yeah. Right. Um, I was wondering if…”

“If…?”

Spencer took a deep breath and tried again. “Hotch said you study the occult.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Is Halloween your favorite holiday?”

Gwen nodded. “Yeah. I love Halloween, although I prefer to celebrate it in its ancient form of Samhain.”

Spencer could feel his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Hey, maybe we could get together after this case is over and talk about it. Maybe get a drink.”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, clutching the strap on his bag for dear life. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay. Then I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Spencer turned around, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t wait to get home from this case.

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #dr. spencer reid #david rossi #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #derek morgan #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagines #spencer/oc #spencer/gwen #beauty and the genius #about face #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[mintseesaw]

harana | jjk

translation: n. the act of wooing/courting someone by serenading him/her

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, f2l au, drabble

word count: 3.5k

warning: none // rating: pg-13

requested by bebe athena @rookiegukie​. Im sorry it took a while, but i hope you like it hun! You may still submit your requests for the drabble game Paraluman Playlist until the end of August. ✨

note: this didnt turn out as initially planned changing after jk released his latest cover so i highly rec u to listen to 10,000 hours by jjk (cover) while reading it hjfjgdjdkgm  also it’s a first for me to delve into f2l trope ljggdhd yall forgive me if it’s too cliche bwahaha

“Hyung! ______-noona is here!” A kid who opened the door for you announced your arrival rather loudly, recognizing him as one of Jungkook’s cousins. You pushed through inside the nostalgic interior of the Jeon’s household. Nothing much has changed in the past two years.

Soon after, Jungkook appeared from the doorway you remember as the door leading to the kitchen. He’s decently dressed and when you say decent, you meant he’s not in his usual attire of anything black and over-sized. Nonetheless, he’s handsome as ever. You’re not gonna deny the fact.

“Hey!” He greets, face lighting up at the sight of you, biting back a smirk as he skims the length of you adorning a cute, yellow dress. He glances down at your hand holding a gift-wrapped present for his mom before draping an arm over your shoulders.

He feigns a frown, “You shouldn’t have bothered. Mom will appreciate you making it on her birthday.”

“Well, unlike someone I know, I’m thoughtful enough to prepare something for Auntie.” You tease, knowing he possibly bought nothing for his mom.

He scoffs, only proving your assumption right. “Yah! Don’t sound too enthusiastic, I’m the son here.”

“So what? I’m your mom’s favorite!” You retorted back.

“No you aren’t!” He snapped, while his mouth unconsciously juts forward in defeat.

Your eyebrow arches. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

Jungkook nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “Forget the competition. We’re here to make my mom happy.” He quickly dismisses, distracting you as he leads you straight to the garden area which you could already see where the guests are gathered through the glass doors.

As expected, the said small party looks simply classic with a touch of Mrs. Jeon’s sophisticated taste. Average-sized square wooden tables are neatly scattered in the expanse of the garden with uniform vintage table setting that coordinates well with the floral decorations in the vicinity. In front, a makeshift platform was made behind a decorated linen with pinned letters “Happy Birthday Mom!” Behind all the tables is where the buffet table was placed.

You’re actually relieved that your simple puff sleeve dress matches with the theme of the party, forgetting the guilt of having to wear the dress without borrowing it from your sister.

Mrs. Jeon was happily chatting with her guests but when the sliding door breaks open revealing you tucked under Jungkook’s arm, the present smile on her face stretches wide and immediately shuffled towards you and Jungkook’s way. 

Mrs. Jeon audibly gushes just as you handed your gift and welcomed you with a warm, tight hug. “Thank you, dear.”

Jungkook took it as his cue to leave you two for a second.

When she draws back, she appreciatively give you a once over. “Oh, you look so lovely on your dress!” Mrs. Jeon clapped her hands. You smiled shyly in return.

“Thank you for coming, dear. It’s been ages since the last time I’ve seen you. Come here and get some food.” She says.

It’s true. After you’ve been in college two years ago, you’ve hardly stayed in your hometown for more than two weeks, hence, you couldn’t squeeze your time here to pay the Jeons a visit. Mrs. Jeon became your guardian whenever your parents were in business trips back in the days, and during the times of your stay at their house, you’ve grown much closer to her just like your second mom.

By the time you reach the buffet table, Mrs. Jeon caught Jungkook in the act of getting a piece of sushi straight from the chafing dish, and his poor soon right away earned a whack on his arm from his mom.

“Use the tongs!” She reproaches which made him flinches dramatically.

Such a baby.

You bit back a chuckle as Mrs. Jeon went on with “Go to the kitchen and refill the dispenser!” Jungkook pouts but obeys his mom without complaining. However, he made sure to shoot a fake glare at you before he disappears from the doorway.

Mrs. Jeon then handed you an empty plate. “Here, ______. I know you like pasta.”

Your eyes widened a little. Perhaps, you have not recovered from the surprise painted on your expression, hearing it come from her that she caught a glimpse of your slight shock state. Why should you be surprised when Jungkook knows it as well? He might have told her or something.

“Oh don’t be surprised, dear. My boy always asks me to cook pasta whenever you come around.”

Isn’t it his favorite food? “It’s… his favorite... right?” You began but ended up questioning the validity of your knowledge.

She laughs, “You know he could eat anything edible but cannot live without his portion of meat every day.”

“Oh.” It was only that moment it registered to you. His mom is right. He’d always make it a point to consume all your stocks of meat whenever he shows up in your dorm in the most unexpected days. His university is not too far away from yours. Yet, this guy thinks it’s worth the two-hour drive just to get to your dorm and pester the shit out of you.

“I’m so happy you’re able to make it on my birthday. Will you stay in town for the rest of your break?”

“Uhh… I was supposed to focus on saving up through my part time jobs this summer but my mom threatened to disown me if I don’t stay here during summer break.”

“Oh she’s being reasonable, honey. Believe me, I’d do the same thing if Jungkook refuses to go home at least once a month, unless of course, if he runs off with you.” She remarks in a teasing manner, earning a profuse blush to appear on your cheeks so abruptly.

Since you left home for uni, you actually believe Mrs. Jeon had forgotten about your shared interactions back then. Yet, here she is, still having faith that his son has actual feelings for you. She told you many times that she’d want a daughter like you or, at least, be her in-law. She always regarded it in a playful tone so you used to get mixed signals whether she was really serious or not. But then, you’d say the overused line: “we’re only friends”. She would then give you a knowing look and insisted that she knows her son well. Fortunately for you, she made it a point to only tease you whenever Jungkook was out of earshot.

By the time Jungkook came back a few moments later, you’re already seated in a vacant table at the farthest back. Jungkook occupied the seat next to yours, taking notice of the half-finished food on your plate.

“What time are you leaving?” He asks the moment he plopped down the chair. Your head cocked to the side to meet his gaze.

“Are you trying to make me leave early?” You prompted suspiciously.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna drive you home, idiot.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I can… walk.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He mutters under his breath.

Your eyebrows quirked but you spoke no more. He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. Did he mean his mom will force him to drop you off at your house just like the old times?

As the night progresses, the small celebration has pumped up with lively cheers from their relatives, incited by the impromptu program prepared by Jungkook’s cousins which was mostly filled with fun games. At some point of the said program, a small commotion on the side of the makeshift platform started to build up. The next thing you know, his cousin, the mastermind behind the entertainment portion of the party, caught yours and Jungkook’s attention when she announced his sudden participation in the program through a performance.

“Our boy Kookie here recently recorded a cover and he’s here to perform the live version and showcase his talent to our dear guests. Everyone, let’s welcome our very own Jeon Jungkook onto the stage!” His cousin enthusiastically says through the microphone. On cue, everyone in the garden, particularly his cousins, roared in earsplitting screams of cheer.

He blinks, completely perplexed. He was not given a heads up prior, much less told that he would perform a song in front of an audience. Hesitant due to his nerves, he backed away subtly just as he reaches the side of the supposed stage. However, his cousin caught up with his attempt and pushed him not too gently toward the platform, and even placed the microphone stand in front of him, giving him no room to say no. The expectant look of his relatives left him no choice but to just— his eyes suddenly caught your figure at the back when you stood up and went to the buffet table.

His heart thuds so hard against his rib cage that he’s afraid everyone can hear it through the mic, including you. He’s sure he’s as white as a paper by now more so that his nerves are getting the worst of him.

That song is not just any song he simply did a cover of. It was the song he meant to sing for you when the right time has come, when he’s ready to pour his heart out to you.

He sucked a deep breath once more, and slowly breathed out once more. Instinctively, his eyes fluttered closed when he heard the music began playing.

Ready or not, it’s now or never.

 Do you love the rain? Does it make you dance

When you're drunk with your friends at a party?

At the sound of his voice filling the air of the summer night, you spun back around to face him. That’s how he missed the look on your face just as how you missed the chaotic cheering of his cousins as they piled up to the side of the platform.

What's your favorite song? Does it make you smile?

Do you think of me?

Hearing the beautiful lyrics wholeheartedly sang by Jungkook, the same one who stole your heart a long time ago, you couldn’t control your heart as it started racing so wildly, tiny specs of heat slowly spreading in your chest. Thoughts began to swirl in your mind – giving you the anticipation. The possibility. The potential love affair. That the friendship would develop into something more.

Before the next verse comes, Jungkook peeled his eyes open, however, he didn’t expect to see you awestruck there across his line of vision from the back, and meeting your expressive eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the glint in your eyes for something else.

Maybe just… maybe you like him too.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You look so beautiful. That the thought of you alone could easily make his heartstrings twist so cruelly in his chest. Oh how he wishes you’d let him spoil you the way he’s been dying to. He’d be the luckiest man to ever live to have you as his girlfriend.

Jungkook didn’t know how he managed to put up the courage to return your gaze, never have you looked at him the way your pretty eyes are staring back at him now with the genuine fondness in them. Somehow, as he gets lost to his emotions, he suddenly couldn’t find the strength in him to take his eyes off of you.

I'd spend 10,000 hours and 10,000 more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

Butterflies erupt crazily in your stomach, goosebumps start to appear on your skin and your cheeks heat up as he held you captive under his wistful stare. The longingness and the passion they hold, the twinkle of his orbs as his doe-like eyes are digging straight to your soul, what it is all for?

And I might never get there but I'm gonna try

If it's 10,000 hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

He’s always been a constant figure in your life since the moment you two became friends. He didn’t miss any important celebrations that involves you since then. And even though Jungkook has been vocal about being overprotective of you dating guys he didn’t know, none of you ever tried to address anything remotely related to romantic love. It gave you the temporary relief, because you’ve been pushing your feelings back in the depths of your heart since the moment you realized you’ve fallen in love with him.

You never had the guts to test the theory, but leaving wondering what if… When have you visited the thought, again? You have long disregarded the possibility because you believed he loves you like his sister. Nevertheless, you’re lucky to have met him and be the only constant in your life.

Do you miss the road that you grew up on?

Did you get your middle name from your grandma?

When you think about your forever now

Do you think of me?

Jungkook’s face stretches in a subtle smile, forgetting about his nerves, his sweaty palms and the guests who kept looking back and forth between him and you in curiosity while he seems magnetized at his view. You.

When you close your eyes

Tell me what are you dreaming?

Everything, I wanna know it all

You smiled, recalling the times you two were inseparable. The times he let you cry on his shoulder, when he used to help you sneak out in the middle of the night, be your chaperone, witnessed you getting drunk for the first time in your life and even that one time a senior stole your first kiss. It was the first time you saw Jungkook that angry, beating the shit out of a poor guy two years ahead of us over a single peck. Your memories with him didnt end in high school for he didn’t stop making efforts to see you, regularly visiting you frequent enough that he’d made himself home at your place.

Ooh, want the good and the bad

Everything in between

Ooh, gotta cure my curiosity

In the midst of serenading you, he recollects the memories he shared with you. The day you two were introduced to each other was still as good as new in his memory bank, or the times that you encouraged him to push through to audition to his dream role that you even learned to play his audition piece just so he could practice with you every day after school. His basketball games with you as his personal cheerleader, the times that he couldn’t hide his jealousy when you dated someone else, the immature fights that always led him to drink his heart out as if you two had broken up, and you nursing him back to sobriety. When you two were separated in college, he’d always make a way to bother you whenever he’s drunk and you’d end up going to his place and ceaselessly irk him while he rotted from hangover.

His angelic voice singing the rest of the song lulls you further into your thoughts, gathering each memory like a missing piece in the puzzle. Why didn’t you see all the signs back then? Were you blinded by your then-infatuation over him that you failed to hint his own feelings? He never gave you a reason to make you think he likes you more than a friend nor tried to hide anything from you, right?

Shortly afterwards, you were pulled back into the reality when you hear the cheers of the guests, signaling the end of Jungkook’s performance. Your eyes silently follow him as he sheepishly walk out of the platform, going onto the same path he took before.

Jungkook didn’t meet your gaze as he strutted toward the ice cooler on the side of the buffet table to get a bottle of alcohol which is just a few steps away from you. Twisting open its cap with such urgency, he took a long swig from the bottle to calm his traitor nerves, then pretends to busy himself on the variety of food laid on the table while feeling the weight of your stare on his back. Nervous that you understood the purpose behind his impromptu performance and that your silence was your hint of your rejection to his feelings, he didn’t try to talk it out to you the entire night. Yet, he feigned indifference when he sat on the same chair in the table next to you.

As the rest of the night rolls, the tension undeniably grows in between you two. Yet bearable enough to have you two stay glued on your seats despite the countless times you caught him staring at you, or you at him all throughout the night.

None of you dared break the silence and somehow, along the way, the tension has particularly become unbearable inside the car while he drove you home. Your house was just two blocks away and you bet it would take him faster to get there should he not intentionally slow down his driving with only a hand on a steering wheel while the other rested on the open window of his door as his fingers anxiously pinch his lips.

You chose to break the tension, feeling the need to speak up before your heart bursts out of your chest. And the moment you did, Jungkook coincidentally started to talk too.

“So…”

“About that…”

You met his eyes when your head jerked to the side to peer at him.

“What?” You immediately ask, curious to know what he would want to say after that, his heartfelt singing.

“Uh—“ He drawls, suddenly losing the words he was supposed to utter the second he made an eye contact with you. He shifts his eyes back to the road, feeling himself cower under the weight of your stare.

He clears his throat, putting up a pretense of a courage. “What do you think of... my performance?”

There was a moment of dead air inside before you manage to form an answer. “It was beautiful… I like it. You know I’m in love with y-you– I mean your voice. I love your voice.” You laugh awkwardly, while you’re incoherently screaming in your head at your almost slipped up.

Jungkook’s face flushes and he could already visualize the sudden boost of serotonin in his system hearing the validation he needs the most, the one coming from you. “Thank you.” He mumbles shyly.

It was that moment when the car arrives in front of your house. You shoot him a look, said your thanks and bid him goodbye before you climbed out of the car. You couldn’t deny the disappointment that was rushing so abruptly into you while you pad the distance across the gate of the house. For the nth time, you have hoped for something that was not even real to begin with.

However, your heart jumped out of almost joy when you heard Jungkook’s voice call your name out just as you’re about to close the fence gate.

“What’s up?”

“Okay before I tell you something, do you promise to remain best friends with me if… if you don’t… if somehow… oh god whatever— just promise me!” He panics, making you frown in return.

“I-I promise?” You say in an uncertain tone.

Jungkook held his pinky out.

“Pinky swear?” He prompts. You raise an eyebrow but let him hook your pinky finger with his to seal the promise of a lifetime friendship. 

“What is it?” You say in the most gentle way possible. If this is the moment you’ve been dreaming to happen since you were in high school, you have to encourage him to talk before you could stop yourself from advancing to his personal space just to kiss him without any further ado.

“_____I-I tried my best not to… n-not to see you in a different way. But god you’re always making it difficult for me to forget about it when you keep giving me reasons to want things I shouldn’t have–”

“Jungkook–”

“Please, let me finish before my legs give out.”

You chuckle all the while your vision blurs from the moisture in your eyes. The anxiety on his face gradually dissolves into relief when he saw the smile creeping into your face.

“I can’t keep dating anyone and pretending they’re better than you. I’m an idiot, I know.  But it’s always been you, ______. It’s you that I want and I can’t possibly live this life without you–“ You didn’t let him finish when he finally said the words you have longed to hear for years. You lean in to touch his soft, inviting lips with your own.

Jungkook staggered back at the suddenness of your move. Once he had recovered from shock, he cupped your jaw to deepen the kiss. He sighed against your supple lips. And for the first time since he has nurtured his feelings for you, the weight in his chest has been lifted off, replacing it with warmth and relief that only you could bring in his longing heart.

*unedited

 mintseesaw © 2020 | photo credit

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bayanihanboost #paralumanplaylist #btsguild #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #cypherwritersnet #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #friends to lovers trope

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

A/n: sorry this took a little longer than usual, I had a huge project for one of my classes that was the only thing on my mind for like a week. Here is part 2 to the charlie weasley story I made a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

**Flash forwards 7 months to the week before valentines day**

Love was thick in the air at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry the week before valentines day, not only were people excited to spend the day with their loved ones, but the big school dance was atop everyone's minds.

It was no different for Y/N Y/L/N and Charlie Weasley. The couple was now into their 7th month of dating and they were absolutely head over heels for each other, let alone in the time of valentines day.

In the 7 months they've been together, they of course got to all the things couples do. Sneaking around at 2am, stealing kisses in the hallways between classes, driving their friends up a wall because they couldn't stop fawning over each other, you name it.

Their friend sof course, were beyond happy for them, seeing as they were placing bets on if this year would finally be the year they go together, (of course, Barnaby had lost.)

Now coming up on valentines day, you could guess they already had a date planned.

"Y/n?" Charlie said one afternoon on their way to charms class.

"Yes charlie?" She said with the biggest grin on her face.

"I was just wondering what color my tie should be so it can match your dress at the dance." He said with that mischievous smirk.

"Hmm, I didn't know i was going to the dance, no one has asked me yet." She said looking around for someone who wasn't there.

"Ahh, fantastic! Then there won't be any competition." Charlie said as he magically pulled flowers from behind his back. "Y/n y/l/n, would you do my the honors and go to the valentines day dance with me?" He bent down as if he was curtsying.

"Why yes charlie weasley, I would love to." He stands up and kisses her cheek just as they hear a round of applause. Both turning find their friends, Penny, Rowan, Ben and Andre standing down the corridor from them.

"Congrats guys, now come on, we don't want to be late." Rowan exclaims. The couple laughs and pecks each other's lips, heading off in the direction of their class.

As y/n sits down next to her best friend Rowan, she feels a nudge in her ribs. "What Rowan?"

"Will you go to hogsmeade with me Penny, and tonks later? I'm pretty sure we're going to buy dresses. It could be a fun girls day."

"Of course Rowan, I would love to." She says with a huge grin on her face. She turns to charlie, who is talking with Ben.

"Well charlie, I known dragons are fascinating to you, but to me, I can't imagine a more terrifying things." She laughs interrupting their conversation.

"Well ben, I promise you charlie would not let one harm you." She turns towards charlie. "Hey im gonna go to hogsmeade with the girls tomorrow." He smiles

"Okay, I'll miss you." She laughs.

"Charlie ill be gone for a few hours. You'll be fine." He sighs but agrees.

The next day, y/n, tonks, Penny, and Rowan are making their way down to the village, intending on heading to the dress shop, when a snowball comes flying at tonks head. Everyone stops and turns to see Andre, Ben, Barnaby and Bill picking up snow.

The girls laugh it off and pick snow up as well, engaging in a snowball fight that the girls are clearly winning. Y/n throws one directly and Barnabys head which hits him dead in the face signaling the defeat of the boys with a tremendous roar of laughter.

As the girls say goodbye to the boys and make their way into the dress shop, to the dislike of the owner since they were wet from the snow, they are all having great times.

"I don't think I've ever seen Barnaby that shocked since when you hit him y/n." Tonks say with a roar of laughter. She laughs.

"Yeah, he didn't know what was coming ro him." They all laugh together.

"Hello ladies, what are we shopping for today?" The owner comes over and looks at the group of girls.

"Well, we would all like to purchase dresses for an upcoming ball, preferably color coordinated, although maybe not y/n since she of course has to match with her date." Penny explains with a smirk in y/n's direction.

"I see, well what colors would you like?" The women asks the girls.

"Well for me, I think red would be the best option, since charlies favorite color is red. Do you have a burgundy or wine color dress?" Y/n finishes as the owner smiles and goes to the back to look.

"Of course, charlie would love to see you in burgundy, although, I bet he already has seen more than that." Penny says with a huge smirk on her face. She of course is talking about the 2am adventure y/n and charlie took an abandoned corridor, and did some things... (ill stop there so not every single piece of mine is smut;)

Y/ns cheeks turn a deep shade of red as the owner comes back with multiple dresses to try on. A few hours later, the girls were satisfied with their purchases, y/n choosing a beautiful burgundy dress that extenuated her figure nicely, and her friends with blue dresses that all looked amazing on them.

When they got back to the castle, they went to their common rooms and decided to get some rest, as it was quite late, considering they took forever to try on dresses.

The next morning, y/n met charlie in the common room and they walked to breakfast together.

"So, you never answered my question a couple days ago." Charlie started. "What color tie shall I be wearing?" He said with a grin.

Y/n laughed at that. "I won't reveal too much, but I would go with a dark red to match my drop dead gorgeous dress." He laughed

"Ooh I can't wait." They held as hands as they walked into breakfast.

The morning of the dance was filled with sunshine through y/n's window. It was a Saturday and she was going to get ready with her friends for the ball the evening.

She started the day by getting breakfast and listening to her favorite songs. By nightfall, she was with all her friends, getting ready to have charlie drooling over her.

"Y/n, show us your beautiful dress." She went into the changing room and got on her dress, which looked amazing with her curled hair. She walked out and everyone turned to her.

"Holy shit y/n/n, you look amazing." She giggled, "thanks Rowan. Come on everyone get dressed so we can go to this thing." Within an hour everyone was making their way downstairs at 7:30pm as the dance started at 8pm.

When all the girls were downstairs at the entrance of the ball, y/n got nervous.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Rowan asked her best friend as she had yet to enter the hall.

"I don't know Rowan, i just, what if charlie doesn't like it? What if I fall on my face like an idiot, what if-"

"Hey, hey, hey, just take a deep breathe, okay? Girl you look so beautiful you don't even know, charlie is so in love with you that he is going to think you look good no matter what. You're beautiful and you don't need to stress like this. Okay? Come on." Y/n smiled at her.

"Thanks Rowan, you're the best friend ever." They hugged and y/n entered the hall, all eyes turning towards her and Rowan. Charlies mouth dropped open and bill had to quickly shut if for him. Y/n giggled at that as she made her way over to him.

"Y/n, you look, amazing." Charlie smiled. "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself red." He offered you his arm and you took it. Walking into the dance with Charlie, you felt such euphoria, you were with all of your friends and your boyfriend, it was the perfect night.

"Y/n, may I have this dance?" Charlie asked, standing from the table where his friends sat.

"Ah, such a gentleman. Of course charlie." She smiled at her friends as they waved.

As the couple took their place on the dance floor, they felt so in love with each other.

"You look so beautiful tonight y/n, I love this dress on you." She giggled.

"Thank you charlie, you look dashing as well." She said as she leaned in to kiss him, which he reciprocated almost immediately.

"Wow, y/n, that was,"

"Amazing." The two moved closer to each other as they danced, her head on his shoulder.

"I love you y/n." She froze in her place. He felt it and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, we're so young and i-" he didn't get to finish as she pulled him for a kiss.

"Its okay charlie, I love you too." He smiled as they continued dancing, into the most perfect night ever.

A/n: okay, this one is not as good as the first, sorry! But I hope you liked it, I think it's cute. Warning, next chapter there will be ANGST!heart break and sadness lies ahead lol. Please let me know what you thinked of this chapter, it means a lot to me <3

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley fluff #charlie weasley imagine #hphm mc #hphm au #barnaby lee #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #rowan khanna #bill weasley

[spiderling-space]

Hi and welcome to the fandom. May I please ask for headcanons for the first years reactions on discovering that fem MC who is also they're crush, is a rhythmic gymnast.

Ngl, I had to check what rhythmic gymnast is. I learned a new phrase today. I thought every gymnasts did artistic one. The women, their dresses and their dances are so pretty??? All the shining outfits 😍😍😍😍

Warning: there is a tiny Ace’s Ghost Marriage Suit Story Part 2 spoiler in the last bullet point of Jack

PS: I feel like everyone in TW has tsundere tendencies

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Ace Trappola

This guy has hard time admitting his true feelings. He knows how he feels but he thinks showing his true emotions is weak.

Ace knows he is crushing on (Y/N). What is he doing? Confessing his feelings? Dude no that’s ridiculous thing to say.

What he does is to mess around with (Y/N).

When he thinks she has nice hair, instead of telling her that he messes with her hair just like kindergarten boy.

(Y/N) think he should be the one in kindergarten.

One day she gets fed up with his childish attitude. “You know what, Ace? I am a professional rhythmic gymnast; been practicing it as long as I know of myself.” — “Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?” — “I’ll leave it your interpretation...”

(Y/N) yeets herself away, leaving Ace alone who wonders what rhythmic gymnast is.

Ace searches internet to learn about it throughout.

When he concludes his research, he tries to understand what (Y/N) meant.

Was she threatening him because he noticed the gymnasts having strong arm and leg muscles?

Or was she flirting with him because the gymnasts were flexible?

Ace is flushed either from fear or another emotion.

He plans to conduct a scheme to get (Y/N) to perform rhythmic gymnastics.

He just wants to see if her performance is similar to the ones he saw on Internet.

Whether or not he thought about how the gymnast’s suit would look on her is unclear.

♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️

Deuce Spade

It took some time for Deuce to talk with an actual girl. He literally couldn’t speak with (Y/N) at first.

He doesn’t know how it started but he began wanting to spend more time with her, preferably alone, trying to come up with random topics to start talking with her and when she isn’t around, he asks Grimm where she is

When he tells his mother this predicament, his mother is walking on air

“My baby is growing up so fast! Next thing I know you’ll marry that girl!”

Deuce is flustered “W-w-what are you saying mother?” Cue to his mom telling him he has a crush on you.

When Deuce comes to terms with it, he googles (Y/N)’s name and sees her name in a MagiTube video. He clicks on it and sees that she is a rhythmic gymnast!

He watches all the videos of hers.

Next time he sees her, he can’t look her in the eyes because he saw her in her glory!

He feels unprepared to confess his feelings. In a way he is correct because he can’t speak with her again.

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Jack Howl

Jack is going to Ramshackle to visit to strictly check up on (Y/N). No sir there is absolutely no other reason behind it.

My goodness he is a tsundere. He will never admit he has feelings for (Y/N); maybe he doesn’t even realize it.

When he reaches Ramshackle, his ears pick up a song coming from backyard.

He checks it out and sees (Y/N) jumping around with a ribbon on her hands.

He first thinks it’s a form of martial art so he observes how it is done.

For a moment he suspects it’s not a martial art but a sort of dance when he sees the way she twists her body. Then he dismisses it because only martial arts would require that much leg and core strength right?

When (Y/N) finishes her routine, Jack comes to her side.

With a blush on her cheeks “Were you watching me?” — “I didn’t want to interrupt your training.” — “Training?”

(Y/N) explains what she was doing then Jack becomes more curious about it and asks more questions.

He may not want to admit it but he wants to learn about (Y/N)’s interests, wanting to know her better. After all, in his culture there is only one partner in their whole lives which was something he wasn’t thinking about while chatting with her.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Epel Felmier

Epel comes from country side where wasn’t many other activities to do other than farming.

When (Y/N) mentions she is a rhythmic gymnast, he thought it was something had to do with rhythm games he heard about.

“I thought it was called gamer?” — “Huh?” — “Aren’t you calling yourself rhythmic gymnast because you play rhythm games professionally?”

Oh sweet child of mine, Epel is embarrassed when he learns what it really means.

(Y/N) shows some of her performances.

Epel watches each video attentively, mesmerized by the beauty of her moves.

A cute blush spreads over his cheeks as sees her outfit and make up. Everything about her beautiful.

Epel now can understand how he ended up in Pomefiore, seeing beauty in (Y/N)’s performance. In fact he sees beauty in everything she does and he doesn’t know why, assuming that it was Vil and Rook’s influence on him because they talk about beauty all the time.

When (Y/N) asks if he wants to see her practice, his heart starts to beat faster for some reason.

Epel doesn’t trust his voice to not crack so he only nods

Epel needs to be given The Talk to find out what that feeling is. Who will though? Vil? Rook? Leona?

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek doesn’t have free time much. He is either guarding Malleus, training or studying. Recently he discovered (Y/N) is his type!

So as the most logical thing, he invites (Y/N) to training.

He doesn’t affirm the fact he wanted to show off his forming muscles and training to (Y/N).

(Y/N) accepts the offer and brings her equipment. She wore her gymnast outfit before coming to Diasomnia.

When she arrives to training center, there is only Sebek there, apparently Silver fell asleep again.

Sebek is displeased

He sees the small bag (Y/N) is carrying and asks about it.

“You invited me to train correct? I thought I could also train for rhythmic gymnastics competition.”

Sebek has never heard a competition such that.

“You’ve never seen one??? Le shock! Worry not, my friend, I’ll show you.”

(Y/N) takes off her coat and Sebek has almost an heart attack.

“HUMAN, WHERE ARE REST OF YOUR CLOTHING?!?!”

(Y/N) got used to Sebek’s booming voice. “It’s what gymnast wear, Sebek. Also I have clubs!” She takes them out of the bag and plays a song on her phone to get in the mood.

(Y/N) starts slowly but as the seconds pass, she performs complex moves.

Sebek is astonished! He had never seen such elegant and graceful movements. He didn’t think (Y/N) would be that strong, agile and coordinated.

He also wonders if she has all the bones in her body because he doesn’t think a normal human could bend their back as much as she does.

(Y/N) starts to do jumping tricks.

“DON’T LOOK AT HER!!!”

Sebek’s unexpected yell causes (Y/N) to fall on her butt.

She rubs the place as she checks out why Sebek yelled.

She understands the reason once she spots Silver.

Before Sebek could have time to adjust the idea of wearing a tight fitting, revealing body suit, Silver showed up! Of course he will try to cover Silver’s eyes!!!

——————————————————————————

I honestly think all TW boys are a bit old fashioned, especially Diasomnia hshshw

#ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #pomefiore #diasomnia #female reader #headcanons

[hakuluv]

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐭.1

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: an insecure little Haku loss his dream little by little, but someday mr. Lee introduce him to someone called Seulgi. And eventually, another four girls entered to his world.

𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 2011-2012

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: kind of angst??

𝐭𝐰/𝐜𝐰: mentions of and bullying, self-insecurities, loneliness and physical criticism

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: an epic room lol, i love writing dramatic stuff so I couldn't resist:-( and I decided to separate this into 3 parts cause it's messy, so it may be boring to read... sorry if this has grammar errors

𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤♡︎

Am I doing something wrong? I give a look in the mirrors again... It's been like one hour already and I cannot step away from them no matter what.

All is starting to be more difficult, they're so competitive here. The more I practice, the more I seems to be a failure, and some boys hating eachother doesn't help.

I miss my home, my sister Yui and... Rena, I really want to see her happy again. I always remember when she told me to follow my dream and always stand no matter how deep I fall, but... Am I doing the right thing? In the future, will I be someone?

“Haku, little shit! sunbaenim is calling you!”

══════════

“Did you call me, sunbaenim?” Mr. Lee was with a girl at his side, I never saw her before, maybe cause I barely walk around the building and met people...

“Yes, I need to introduce someone to you. She's Seulgi, Kang Seulgi and he's Haku, Takeda Haku. And I want you two make a choreo for the next monthly presentations, you should coordinate your times to practice. I'll let you guys alone, if you have questions you know where to find me”

Is she nice? or she's gonna be like the others who critize everything I do since I'm here?

“Hi, I see you dance before, you're amazing!”

“R-really? I-i'm always in the back...”

“And that's not bad, I'm sure that if you're at the front, you'll kick everyone”

“Thanks...” Someone call her from the door, i bet she's friends with everyone...

“Oh! I have to go, tomorrow we can practice! find me at the girls trainees room at 5:30”

══════════

The competition for being on the top always made me feel weird, they treat everyone bad and the monthly revision is a completely nightmare. I know this is important but the boys became blind, Minjae don't talk me anymore, I think he hate me and Daniel started to insult other just because of their looks.

“He need to lose more pounds” “And grow up” “Yes, and maybe take care of himself, he's so tanned and his eyes are so small, Japanese people are not like that” “Who is him anyway?” “The new trainee, he's coming from the japanese SM” “He shouldn't have come, he's a little ugly” “Japanese people aren't that boring to dress...” “And he's so quiet” “Maybe he's gay” “Do you think so? What a shame”

That's the kind of things I hear often, but why looks are so important? I look my reflect again, I know that I'm not tall and confident like them but I'm working hard to be better and proof all my passion for dance, beauty is not so important to me... right?

══════════

“H-hello, it's Seulgi here?” I looked into the room. It's a way more big than the ours. And I hope someone listen me cause I don't want to...

“Mmm, maybe. For what do you want her?” A girl appears, she seems more older than Seulgi and so intimidating!

“Oh! Irene unnie, he's Haku!”

“H-hi, I'm...”

“I'm Irene, how old are you?”

“Fourteen...”

“Cute! I'm eighteen” Seulgi said

“And I'm twenty...” Irene was so old compared to us, but she's really stunning. I bet she is the girl who turned the guys so in love. “You guys are going to practice here?”

“No, Tifanny unnie said that her practice room is empty for today” Seulgi went to pickup her bag and things while Irene analyzed me with her eyes, maybe I look bad today too? “Come on, Haku!”

We started to walk where the seniors practice, what if tvxq! are here? It might be a dream if I know them.

“Do you like it? it's my favourite room here” Seulgi said. I looked at the wall and a sky was at the center, it's really pretty and makes the room very calm. Our practice room is so ugly and everyone make the atmosphere tense and uncomfortable cause Daniel wants to be the leader or something... “So what do you want to dance?” Seulgi asked

“I'm good with everything... I-i mean if y-you want to choose”

“What about a cover?”

“I like it, m-maybe we can change some part and make our version...”

“Cool! you're a genius Haku!” Seulgi lightly hit my shoulder and I felt the heat in my cheeks. Oh my god I'm so stupid...

At the end we made a choreography for Mirotic and now this is our last day before the presentation... I'm so nervous cause Seulgi is the best at dancing, even more than the boys and I thinks she's my only friend now, Irene actually talks to me but I think that it's just because of Seulgi.

I was leaving the room when someone grabbed my shoulder “Where the fuck have you been? The guys and I are so hungry, there” Minjae searched something in his pocket and threw at my feets. “Go and buy some ramen”

“But I have to prac...”

“I heard that you have been with this girl... Seulgi right? What a whore you're, I didn't expect that from you, specially from such an ugly boy” Why Minjae know that? I didn't tell anyone and...

“Then who's next? Irene? Oh boy! you like the best friends, that's so fucked up” Daniel know too? I'm so tired already, what did I do?

“Why won't you just shut up?” Irene? Why is she here?

“So you're defending the little guy? I didn't know you have that preferences... noona” Daniel seems to be mad but Irene gets closer to his ear.

“My preference is telling Mr. Lee who don't deserve to be here... I just imagine how much you're going cry to your daddy to paid him more to accept you being here with those little dogs behind you...”

What's happening?

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