#I’ve been thinking about saving up and maybe trying to take some stand up classes

[prozach27]

.

[jjkamochoso]

How do you think jjk men would court their crush? Feel free to add anyone you want but I would love to read about Choso.

OMG SO CUTE!!!! Thanks for the request and I hope you like it <3

JJK Men Courting Their Crush

A/n: okay so for this, I chose to depict most situations as their first time doing a certain courting activity with you so they’re a lil nervous and haven’t made their crush on you explicitly clear🫣 I hope that’s alright and makes sense!! And I can do a part 2 of them doing the same courtship things but with a confession, just lmk if that’s something you guys want🫶 please enjoy below!!

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji: cooking for you

“So, y/n, what do you think?”

Yuji was standing over you as you took a bite of the dish he made. Nervous energy was radiating off of him. He didn’t have much experience in the romance department but knew that usually the quickest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. He wanted to treat you to some of his favorite dishes as a way to show you that you mean a great deal to him and hopefully get to know you better over a good meal. He had prepped in the school’s kitchen all day after spending hours trying to decide which entrees you’d like the best. He thought back to the times you all went out to eat in the city and what you ordered, then thought about what recipes he knew that were similar. As he was cooking, he hoped you liked what he made enough to where he could eventually do it for you every night.

As soon as it hit your tongue, you felt the warmth of the lovingly cooked food spread through your body. You could tell he spent lots of time on this for you and you were extremely flattered that he would go out of his way to do something like this for you.

“Yuji, it’s absolutely divine. I haven’t had something this yummy in years.”

Yuji put a hand on the back of his neck, sheepish from your compliments.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I have some more recipes that I’ve been meaning to try out and you would be the perfect taste tester if you’re up for doing this often.”

Your eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! But are you sure you wouldn’t mind cooking for me that much?”

“Of course,” he said earnestly, “it’d be tons of fun. Besides, I really like hanging out with you.”

And I really like being the cause of your adorable smile! he wanted to say, but decided to save those words for another time. Chatting and laughing with you was enough for now—maybe he’d cook up enough confidence one day to tell you how he really feels about you.

Megumi: making you playlists

Megumi couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for you to meet up with him before class. You had mentioned that you wanted new songs to listen to so when you asked him for recommendations, he took the collecting of songs very seriously. He was never good with his words so maybe you’d get the hint that he had a crush on you from some of the songs he chose. He heard your steps coming down the hall and it was like he forgot how to stand and breathe like a normal human being. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied a stray rock lying on the ground to look busy.

“Hey Megumi!” you greeted, making him jump slightly. He mumbled out a “hello” and immediately dug into his backpack, a CD emerging from its inky depths.

“Well, I, uh-I didn’t know if you used Spotify or YouTube or something else but I know you mentioned having a CD player so… yeah. Here.”

He thrusted the CD into your hands without meeting your eyes. The plastic case held a disc that said “Y/n’s Playlist” in sharpie.

“Thank you so much!” you said, inspecting it, “I’ll give this a listen after class. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Megumi, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh wait, I won’t know the song names or artists when I listen to this. Wanna come over later and help me make a track list?”

Megumi felt his face burn up with a blush. “Y-yeah. That, uh, sounds great.”

He’d definitely have to make you more playlists and keep forgetting to include that pertinent information!

Yuta: complimenting you nonstop

“Y/n! I like your shirt!”

“Y/n! Great fighting form!”

“That joke was hilarious, you’re so funny, y/n!”

These were things you were used to hearing when you were around Yuta. He was always showering you with compliments, not that you were complaining. He had a major crush on you and wanted to start letting you know that he saw, appreciated, and admired you without revealing his full feelings for now. You and your classmates were training on the field and Yuta was your sparring partner.

“Wow, you really pinned me down quick! That was amazing,” Yuta said as you extended a hand to help him up.

“You’re always so sweet, thank you,” you replied. “You were really good, though, too! I’m sure you’ll get me next time. You’re super strong.”

Yuta felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was superb at giving compliments but horrible at receiving them.

“Geez, that, umm… it means a-a lot coming from you because you’re so great. Thank you.”

“Please, I’m not that cool! You’re awesome as well,” you told him.

“Yeah, but not as awesome as you!”

It seemed that you two were stuck in a never ending cycle of compliments. After a few more rounds of back and forth, you agreed that you were both cool and strong and whatever other positives you could think of. Yuta left the field in high spirits, thinking of all the creative ways he could tell you how cute you were the next time he saw you.

Inumaki: giving you flowers

Toge stood, clippers in hand, eyeing the flowers in front of him with an intensity rarely seen from the blonde. He was trying to decide on which flowers to cut to make you a bouquet. Taking flowers for personal purposes would normally be extremely frowned upon but he was the plant caretaker and figured he could get away with snipping a few here and there. He thought back to all of your previous conversations, wracking his brain for any moments you might have mentioned a favorite all those times you walked here together. He remembered you’d said you liked them all so he really couldn’t choose wrong. When he made up his mind and clipped his picks, he smiled under his pulled up collar. He walked over to your dorm, an extra pep in his step.

“Toge! Hi!” you greeted kindly as you opened your door. His collar was now pulled down and you felt your heart swell at seeing his cursed marks curled in a happy expression. You were afraid you were about to get pranked when you saw he had his hands behind his back, but your fears were quelled when he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“These are for me?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Salmon.”

“You’re the best! Thank you!”

You grabbed him into a hug, careful not to crush the flowers. He’d keep bringing you bouquets until either you got the hint that he liked you as more than a friend or he got the courage to write out his feelings.

Noritoshi: writing you letters

It was hard to make friends at the Kyoto school since your classmates were always so on edge about letting people get close, but you and Noritoshi had somehow bypassed that fear and your acquaintance turned into something deeper over the years. Unfortunately for Noritoshi, his feelings now dove even deeper than that, finding himself in the throes of a crush. Unsure of what to do, he’d tried ignoring the nagging feelings in heart every time you spoke to each other, but it never work. After much introspection and consideration, he determined that it would be wise to see if you felt the same. If you did, great. If you didn’t, he’d be released from the constant “what if’s” running through his mind. As he started putting pen to paper, he felt his confidence falter. Who pours their feelings into a letter instead of speaking face to face? Is that cowardly? He changed gears; this letter wouldn’t be of romantic intent, per se, but just of a way to get to know you better and show you he cares about what you think, how you feel, and whatever else he managed to write before his fingers failed him. When he nervously slipped the sealed paper under your dorm door a few days later, he anxiously awaited to see when you would mention it in your face to face conversation with him—you didn’t.

Imagine his surprise when he was greeted with his own letter hours later! You had expressed your delight in his letter and wanted to keep him as a consistent pen pal for the near future. Noritoshi’s hands grasped your letter, fingers tracing your words. With this new open view of each other’s hearts, your private conversations safe from prying ears, he yearned for the day he could tell you the truth of his heart before it was spilled in ink.

Todo: carrying/lifting things for you

Aoi knew you were more than capable of handling things yourself but he wanted to show you that he’d be your perfect, strong protector so he’d always offer to carry whatever you were holding, no matter how big or small. At school? He’d carry your books. Grocery shopping together? He’d lift all the heavy items in and out of the cart. Need to move your car but you’re too lazy to get up? Consider it done—he just picked it up and moved it. He hoped that by continuing to show up for you like this, you’d see how much he really likes you. Of course, he wouldn’t be afraid of speaking to you about his crush on you, but he would rather go out of his way to impress you first before stating his obvious attraction to you.

“Y/n! Let me get that for you!”

Your dorm room door was propped open and Aoi had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, when you were struggling to move some furniture around in your room. He lifted the couch with ease and shot you an award winning grin and wink.

“Just tell me where you want it.”

You pointed to a spot near the window and he put the couch down gracefully, barely making a sound.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked eagerly. He’d rearrange the layout of the entire school if you asked him to—anything to make you happy!

Gojo: buying you gifts

Satoru was not the type to outright tell someone he had a crush on them. You know, the whole “love is the greatest curse of all” thing? He’d much rather ignore those feelings in hopes of them disappearing. So when he found himself fawning over you nonstop, he didn’t know the right way to convey his desire to connect with you on a deeper level. He might’ve been running on empty in regard to romantic skills, but his bank account was severely overflowing. He began to take mental notes on everything you looked at and put back while in Tokyo during your shopping trips and visited those places to buy all of it on his own.

“I got this for you.”

Satoru had several bags by their handles that he gently nudged toward you. Confused, you opened them, greeted by multiple items that you had taken notice of but didn’t have the funds to purchase. You didn’t remember Satoru even being there when you were browsing them in the first place.

“Satoru, how did you-”

“I pay attention more than people think,” he shrugged, glad to have his blindfold covering his eyes so you couldn’t see how they softened when they met yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, trying not to cry tears of happiness.

He chuckled. “I know. You deserve nice things, though. If you can’t treat yourself, then allow me to.”

He was glad he turned infinity off to feel your arms wrap around his in a tight hug. Even if the words evaded him at the moment, he’d be sure to keep showing how much he cares for you by giving you things to remember him by.

Geto: taking you to the farmer’s market

“Come, y/n, I have a fun morning planned for us.”

Suguru had texted you and invited you to the local farmer’s market. You, of course, accepted readily, and now that he was here to pick you up, he was starting to feel a little nervous. Your friendship was a wonderful thing but Suguru craved to get to know you better and see if you shared the same romantic affections he was feeling toward you. He figured that going somewhere low key like a farmer’s market would be great to cultivate easy conversations. As you two walked together, admiring the handiwork of the local artists, you shivered from a cold breeze that kicked up. Suguru was quick to remove his outer layer and drape it over your shoulders.

“Oh, Suguru, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m alright, I promise. I’d rather be a little chilly than see you freeze on my behalf. May I buy you a warm drink as well?”

After that, you were nice and toasty and he glad he could help in any way he could. When the market was closed and you two walked back home, you decided to make a visit here an every week occurrence. Suguru was sure that in a few weeks’ time, he’d prove to you that he’d be a great partner.

Nanami: cooking with you

Kento wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of his romantic feelings toward you. He valued straightforward communication, but he couldn’t find it within himself to outright express his desires for romance right now. Instead, he opted to show you he cared by inviting you over to cook a meal together. He had asked you to pick a recipe and went shopping for all the ingredients. Now that you were finally over at his place, he felt his palms getting sweaty as saw you chopping vegetables, looking extremely cute while doing so. You gave him a sweet smile when you noticed him staring and he quickly looked away, a blush apparent on his cheeks. You dropped the veggies into the hot pan and he started cooking them. You two worked well together, never in each other’s ways and able to partake in conversation while keeping the task at hand. When dinner was ready, you were ecstatic that everything tasted delicious.

“Is it alright if I ask you to join me again sometime soon?” Kento asked.

“I would love nothing more,” you replied sweetly, his stomach now teeming with butterflies.

Choso: stargazing with you

Choso had zero experience with any type of romantic love. He was the expert in familial loyalty, a prime example of being a great big brother, but being a boyfriend? Not his forte. However, his desire to woo you outweighed his nerves so that’s what led him to call you and tell you to meet him outside one night. He read online that looking at the stars is a good way to induce romance and he was determined to prove to you that he’d be a worthy partner. You were taken aback when you saw he had set up blankets on the ground and put out picnic baskets of snacks. He had even wrapped you up in another blanket so you didn’t get cold! Once you were settled, you both chatted about anything and everything as you gazed at the wonders of the night sky.

“Choso! A shooting star, quick, make a wish!”

It was quiet for some time.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not supposed to say or else it won’t come true,” you teased, nudging his arm. “What about you?”

He was studying the sky before he looked back at you. “I wished to keep having the privilege of sitting here with you as many days as I can.”

You felt yourself go shy at his confession but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. After that, you had plans in place to meet up again in a few days to do it all over. Choso was hoping that his next wish would also come true—that he’d be confident enough to bring the true feelings of his heart to light.

Toji: inviting you to local music shows

There was nothing better to Toji than a cheap activity, an attractive person by his side, and the promise of alcohol. That’s what led him to extend an invitation to you to join him at a small concert being held by a band you both liked. When you met him outside the run down venue, Toji felt his heart rate pick up as he saw how good you looked. His calm and collected demeanor didn’t change a bit, though, as he lazily threw an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside.

“This place is super cool, Toji,” you said, taking in your surroundings.

He smirked. “I knew you’d like it. Wanna get something to drink?”

Toji wasn’t known for having tons of money but he liked you enough to pay for the first round of your drinks. As the band finished setting up their equipment and started playing their first song, you had a blast dancing along while he kept stealing glances at you between sips of his drink, relieved that you were having fun. You were able to convince him to dance with you after a few more drinks (not that the drinks affected his decision making—he just couldn’t deny a request from someone as hot as you). As the night wound down and he walked you home, he felt an excitement spark in his heart that he hadn’t known in a long time. He hoped that one day he’d stop being a coward and tell you he really liked you, but for now, he’d be content just holding you in his arms—and definitely keeping an eye out for flyers with information for the next show.

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 1?)

— SFW —

I’ll hit it from the back, just so you don’t get attached — i like the way you kiss me // artemas

I can definitely see myself making more of these. Adding to the modern! Davos lore. Not proofread. LMK if y’all have other ideas or headcannons too!

Benjicot Davos Blackwood. People call him Davos. Only close friends call him Ben. Only you can call him Benji. Although, he goes by his middle name usually. Now, bloody Ben? That’s a story to be told later on how he got... (There is no story. It’s just people saying “Shit.. there’s bloody Ben..” or something like that. There’s no violence to the name, only pure exasperation when people see him)

This is the boy you need to hide away in your closet or under your bed when your parents come checking in on you randomly. You could’ve been working on homework, or just hanging around. And somehow this “annoying” guy appeared outside your bedroom window—and you just had to let him in. “C’mooon, let me in sweetheart.. you think I can’t climb up there? Stand back, I’ll show you.”

He is the type of person to rant about how the education system is rigged, set up to fail students, or rant about it in general and as a whole. Anyway he’s got a 4.0, and makes it onto the dean’s list every semester in college. However he is always late to class—complete with either a Monster or Red Bull drink in tow.

He invites you over to his place like a gentleman. Ignore his “annoying fuckass” roommate.. (it’s Aeron.) He does the whole (“it’s a little messy :3”) as he leads you down the hall of their apartment. “Hello MTV, welcome to my crib.”

He cooks at that desk, game-wise. Faceit level is between 5-6. CSGO rank is Master Guardian II (He does tell you he once hit Global Elite. But he stopped the grind to focus on school, not because he’s washed or anything—maybe you could be his Valorant duo? Or be his support in League; he’ll have you know he makes a mean ADC.. do you do overnight discord calls?—)

If you play more casual games (Minecraft, stardew, etc) he will play with you, HOWEVER, he will either ruin the aesthetic of the minecraft world via automated farms OR speedrun the mines in stardew (he passes out so much it starts to affect the money you’re trying to save for farm upgrades). Every time he goes fishing in either game he puts on a country accent and makes “gone fishing, getting away from my bitch wife” jokes. “I’ve uh- carved out an area for the iron farm. Nothin’ too big—just something to get started.” (Shows you an utterly decimated and leveled biome)

Davos Blackwood fun fact no. 43; he does rallying (rally racing). He went to a rally school for fun over the summer. Ignore the price tag; yes he saved up for that! no it’s not dangerous! Regular driving wise he does donuts in empty parking lots, and takes corners way too fast. He is the type to street race a random ass pickup truck or some other car that pulls up beside him. It is thrilling, and he knows you enjoy it too despite your protests and how you grip the handle above the seat. “No it’s fine.. pfft—don’t worry don’t— I’ll smoke him. Just watch.”

Speaking of cars. Do not complain about his car. This is his baby. His one and only. It’s an old car; it’s so old it’s bordering not being considered street safe anymore. Ignore the anime girl stickers with their tits and ass out, that was there already he didn’t do that. “It’s safe don’t worry—I’m getting the bumper and everything fixed like Monday I swear.. no I did not hit anything why would you say that-“

He’s oddly in-tune with his emotions and emotions of others despite appearances. He’ll KNOW if something’s bothering you. Maybe you’re just a little too quiet, you laugh at a joke a little too late or even if it sounds unenthusiastic. Whatever it is, Davos is on the case. A hug, some pep talk, he’ll let you punch his palms to get any anger out. He’s your ride or die, of course he’d do anything for you. And maybe if it’s a person who upset you he might pay them a visit.. “Who was it this time? Oh—that bitch? Ugh. I’m sorry about that… I have a gun just saying—“

Needs your hand in his. Or some part of you touching him. Whatever works. If he does not get a modicum of affection in 5 minute intervals he shrivels up like a plant—no he’s not being dramatic. Is the type to whine loudly about it regardless of where you’re at. On occasion he lets out bloodcurdling screams as a joke, lamenting about being denied tender love from you. You think it’s funny in private, you do not think it’s funny in public. Which is why he always does it in public. “Gimme your hand. Wha? What do you mean ‘it’s too hot out’? I wanna.. I wanna hold your hand… I don’t care if you’re sweaty—LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND”

I do believe his brain would be.. a little rotted. He sends you tiktoks, niche memes, shitposts. He will watch twitch streams or league/csgo content creators on YouTube. His vocab is normal, but does consist of slang from the gaming community. This can be good and funny, or sometimes bad if he uses it during serious moments. However he’s at least a normal human being and knows when to talk ‘normally’. He says joever unironically

Shadow boxes you. No matter what’s happening or where. You could be looking at something in a store and you just see slow, dramatic punches going toward you. He makes the whooshing sound too. This is how you know he’s bored. He’s also the type to tackle you to the bed. Not in a sensual or cutesy way but in like a WWE way that initiates a caged fighting match between you two.

Regardless of your mastery level of skateboarding he will hold your hands and pull you around on his board. Late at night when the parks or lots are empty, you both will be there. And he’ll be a smiling goof as he gently steers you around on the board. He usually says fuck helmets (his one big flaw), but carries one around just for you. His safety be damned. Yours? No question about it, you’re wearing all the gear required.

Smoker. Red flag. Marlboros, sometimes he uses zyns. It’s bad. Yes he knows he’s going to get lung cancer and succumb to nicotine. But he just can’t help it—it helps him relax. It’s why there’s a plethora of gum and also a cologne bottle in his car. Does it help? That’s to be determined. Does not smoke near you however if you don’t like that, he’s not that bad of an asshole.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Go to Hell

kai parker x reader

summary: there's nothing like waking up realizing you've been kidnapped by mystic falls' own sociopath, malachai parker. will this day end with your blood on his hands, or will his sweet spot for you save your life?

≪ originally published to ao3: 3/30/23 ≫

tags: consensual non-consent, kidnapping, knife-play, alludes to stalking, sex magic / spell, daddy kink, praise kink, minor spit kink, minor degradation; SPOILERS: secret phrase used for consent, roleplay, aftercare :)

word count: 5.4k

A rattle rings out throughout the otherwise empty room as you shake your hands, desperately trying to free yourself of the cuffs. No luck - they’re on tight, with little to no room for you to move. You bite your lip, scanning the room. Over by the chalkboard, a gleam catches your eye - the key. There’s no way you could reach it though, because even if you got free, your captor would definitely hear your escape. You’re left forced to await his return, and maybe, with a beg for mercy, he’d let you go unharmed. 

“Hello?” You call out gently. “Why am I here?” The only response is your voice echoing. “Please, you’ve kidnapped the wrong girl! I don’t know anything; I’m not worth anything to anyone!”

A click of the tongue interrupts your silence. Footsteps. They stop outside the classroom door. “Huh. I’d like to disagree with that. Surely someone’s looking for you.”

“They’re not, I promise. If you wanted to lure someone here, you should’ve captured Elena.”

Kai Parker stands in the doorway, wielding a knife. “Hm, well, I don’t want Elena. I wanted you.”

“Why?” You swallow hard.

“I’ve been watching you. Carefully. Some might call it stalking, even. I see when you leave your apartment, when you return. I know when you have class, and I know your favorite places to eat. I even know your coffee order.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Kai smirks, then recites your order verbatim as you do every morning to the barista. 

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, I’ve been watching you.”

“Why me?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“I…”

“I’ll tell you this much: I think you’re pretty. And you’re smart, and whether or not you believe it, you matter to someone.”

You scoff, tugging on your chains once again. “Why do you need me here?”

“I’m trying to learn how to control my magic. See, I siphoned a bunch last night, and now I don’t know how to use it. Oh, and by the way, don’t try to escape. I’ve bewitched the chains. They tighten each time you fight them.”

You stop resisting immediately.

“Good girl. Already learning. Oh, that’s the second part, too. Not only do I want control over my magic, I want control over you. See, you’re a pretty girl, I’ve already said that. But after having no control for eighteen years and being trapped in a prison world, I’m sick of living under my father’s terms. Now, I’m finally out, and I need to be in control of something, someone. And I’ve decided that’s you.”

“Is that what that knife is for?”

“Good observation. When I tell you to do something, you obey me. If you don’t, don’t think I won’t retaliate. There’s a reason I was locked up for years.”

“Oh I’ve heard your history, you-”

“Ah, ah, did I say you could speak? No. And certainly, I did not say you could talk back to me. What punishment do you think you deserve for that, him?”

“Like you’d actually hurt me. You’re all talk.”

A haunting smile takes over his face. “Brave little girl. You underestimate me. Look at me.”

You refuse to meet his eyes.

“Hm. That’s two punishments now. Okay, for the first one, how about…” suddenly, you feel a cut along your cheek. Looking at Kai, you see him directing his finger in a line, yet he doesn’t have to touch you to break skin. “Oh! You can obey, that’s a good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Go to hell.”

“Did you miss the part where I was in a prison world for eighteen years? That was hell, princess.”

“Then go fuck yourself.”

“Now why would I do that when I have you?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No. You can’t.”

“As long as you obey, I won’t have to.”

“Kai, please!”

“Begging already? Didn’t count you to be weak, Y/N.”

You whine, tugging against the cuffs. Immediately, they tighten, causing you to cry out. 

“I warned you about that, princess. How’d you forget already?”

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to sit still while I try a spell. It’s just a simple silencing spell, so that anyone possibly coming in won’t hear us, okay? I know it’s spring break, but you can never be too careful.”

Slowly, you nod.

“Good girl. This shouldn’t take long.”

As Kai performs his spell, you start brainstorming ways to escape. If you can just get out of the cuffs, you can do your own spell to get away from him, but as long as they tighten, you can’t concentrate enough to break free. Maybe you can try the classic breaking-your-thumbs trick, or maybe, break the table leg around which the cuffs are holding you. You debate this plan, although get so lost in it, you don’t realize when he stops chanting. 

“It’s done. Now, tell me, in that short period, how many different ways did you conjure up a possible escape plan? Hm? Two? Three? More than that?”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, princess.”

“I swear!”

Kai lifts his knife and stands up, “are you sure about that?”

“Fine! Fine. Okay, I thought of two.”

“Only two?”

“Yes, I promise!”

“And what are they?”

You shake your head.

“Be honest with me, Y/N,” he stalks over to you, leaving mere inches between your faces. His knife is pointed at the ground, but his grip on the handle is strong. 

“No.” And in a split second of defiance, you spit on him. It hits him square in the face and drips down quickly, some spilling onto his lip. 

Angrily, he grabs your neck. Not hard enough to cut off your airway, but enough to choke you just a little. The sharp point of the knife rests on your collarbone. The cool metal directly touches your skin. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“Y/N!”

“You won’t hurt me.”

He laughs, “are you sure about that?”

“You don’t have the guts. Sure, eighteen years of isolation made you crazy, but it also made you scared. Scared of your daddy, and what he was capable of. If you hurt me, it’ll make the news. He’ll come for you.”

“Don’t try to manipulate me!”

“You won’t do it, Kai. You can’t. You said it yourself, you think I’m pretty. Why would you kill a pretty girl you like? Hm?” You don’t know why you’re egging him on. Maybe the knife digging into your skin is turning you on a little; maybe it’s his eyes. Or maybe, this is the most excitement you’ve had in a long time, even if your words might be your last. 

“You’re right, why would I kill you?” In one quick motion, he slices the blade down the front of your shirt. It flies open, revealing your black bra for him to see. “Ah, lace. Like you knew you’d be kidnapped.”

“Kai-”

“Oh don’t ‘Kai’ me, I know you’re secretly enjoying this.”

“No.”

“Then how would you react if I-” he drags the blade down between your breasts. Involuntarily, you let out a moan. “There it is. ‘No’ my ass.”

“Don’t.”

“Oh, princess, you’re not going to fight me, are you? It’s this or I kill you.”

“Go to hell,” you repeat. 

Kai smirks, “oh, I’ll be on my way. Right after I get a little slice of heaven.”

There’s nothing you can do as he eyes your body. For a second, though, he seems doubtful - like he’s afraid to hurt you. But then one look into your defiant eyes and his dominance is back. “Look at me.”

You snap your gaze to him immediately.

“Good girl! I’ll give you a little reward for obeying so well.”

For a minute, there’s nothing, and you actually think that’s your reward. But not two seconds later, there’s an unexplainable pressure on your clit, rubbing it in figure-eights. Kai’s not even within kissing distance anymore, so how-? Right. Magic. Despite the situation, you want to groan. He’s so good at it, feeling exactly where you need him, and increasing pressure in certain areas. 

“You like that, princess?”

Lost in the feeling, you can only nod. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Kai.”

“I thought so. But we’re going to have to stop there. Can’t have you coming on me just yet.”

The pressure decreases into nothing, soon leaving you wet and cold. As soon as you come to, you realize what you just let him do. Embarrassment takes over and you duck your head away from him. 

“Awh, now don’t get shy on me.” You look back at him, afraid that that’s some kind of code word for needing your attention. “There you go, beautiful. Now, how will you feel about these pants coming off?”

“What?”

“What?” He repeats your question, “I can’t fuck you through jeans, now can I?”

“Kai-”

“I promise I’ll make you like it. All you have to do is listen. Maybe I’ll even untie you, if you promise not to run away.”

“No, please don’t.”

“Awh, come on! Your body is dripping, I can smell your arousal.”

“What?”

“Just another spell, don’t worry. Sex spell, actually. If you’re interested, I have another batch of the herbs. Just a little tea, and you’ll be wanting me in no time.”

“Why didn’t you already drug me? Figure you kidnapped me, might as well drug me, too.”

“Eh, wanted to give you a chance to get horny yourself.”

“Never. Never will I get wet for you.”

“Hmmm, that smell says otherwise. It’s pooling in your panties, Y/N. Sweet, like honey, or… cotton candy.”

You take a risk. “So why’d you drug yourself? You can’t get hard by yourself?”

“Aww, cute. No, I have full control over myself, Y/N. But thanks to my spell, like I said, it lets me know how you’re feeling about all this. And I know that you started to get wet the minute my knife first touched your skin.”

“I…” you curse yourself for not having an answer.

“It’s okay to be turned on. What do they call it? Stockholm syndrome? Falling in love with your kidnapper? I believe they even have a song about it. Huh,” he chuckles, “and it was in your playlist when I looked.”

You laugh in his face, “it’s One Direction. Everybody loves One Direction.”

“Yeah? Can you explain why it made your top ten on your Spotify wrapped?”

“It’s catchy.”

“Catchy, yeah. Or, you have a kink.”

“I do not have a kink.”

“It’s okay to admit, princess.”

“I do not have a kink.”

“Suit yourself.”

Without warning, Kai brings the tip of his blade further down your body, over your clothed sex. It doesn’t hurt, not in the slightest, but you can’t ignore the dull, tingling sensation left by the feeling. Then, he comes close enough to whisper in your ear, “I do believe you liked that.”

You swallow hard.

Kai flips his hand so that the blade is facing the ground before pressing the hilt into your crotch. He applies a bit of pressure, but not enough to cause pain. Just enough to see your face contort up close. “What about this? Do you like this?”

“No.”

“Hm. Let’s find out.”

Maybe if you had said something else, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe if you said ‘yes’, he’d leave you alone, not wanting to please you, and would move his attention back up to your face. Maybe he’d cut your other cheek, or practice another spell. But no, you had to be defiant. And now he’s unbuttoning your high-waisted jeans, shrugging them down your legs. 

“Ah, lace panties. Matching your bra. I love when girls do that, it’s so sexy.”

“Fuck you, Malachai.”

“Ohh, princess, that is not what you want to call me.”

“What? Awww, are you sensitive? Does it hurt?” Again, why are you egging him on?

“Shut up, or I’ll make you. I have plenty of more silencing spells I could try out on you.”

“So why haven’t you? I could call out right now and expose you.”

“Well first of all, we’re in your old high school, and it’s spring break, like I said before. And second, like I also said before, I’m still learning how to control my magic. I don’t want you quiet, I want to hear you beg and cry for me to let you cum.”

“In your dreams.”

“Maybe this is. Maybe I haven’t kidnapped you. Maybe this is your dream.”

“We both know that it’s not. You’re a sociopath, and I’m your victim.”

“Aww, giving up so soon? You don’t have to be a victim.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“It’s all in good fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But like I told Elena when I kidnapped her, pre-merge, mind you, liking yourself is the most important thing. And I like me.”

“So you like being a sociopath? That pretty much solidifies the fact that you’re going to kill me. You’re going to use me, then kill me.”

“Not if you comply.”

“God,” you scoff, “this is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Let’s find out. Are you ready to listen to me?” He produces the knife again from his back pocket. “Or are we going to do this the hard way?”

You stare at him. This could go two ways: you comply with everything and hope he spares you, or you can fight him all the way through this and die with dignity. Neither option seems good, but then again, that’s the whole point of trying to survive a sociopath’s kidnapping.

“I can see the internal debate.”

“There’s no debate.”

“Again, with the lying! C’mon, fess up or face punishment.”

“No.”

“Still stubborn? Okay. Let’s… ooh, here looks good.” After scanning your body, Kai draws another line with his finger. This time, you see him using magic before you feel it, but soon enough, you can feel it, too. A straight line across your chest. In between your tits. 

“How’s that feel?”

“Go to hell.”

“You really like to say that.”

“I mean it.”

“Will you mean it after this?”

Now his finger is making circles in the air. Every so often, he rubs them together, too. In a few seconds following the gesture, you feel something tugging at your nipple. It’s cold, yer feels so, so good to be stimulated. “Oh fuck,” you whisper.

“There you go. Knew you’d like that. I overheard a phone call you made where you mentioned you loved when your ex would do that. Am I as good as him, Y/N?”

“Better,” you moan out. You slap a hand around your mouth in disbelief at what you just admitted.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay to enjoy the pleasure I’m giving you. That’s the whole point. You’re pretty, I like you.”

You gulp.

“Ah, and there’s that sweet smell again. Hey, would you like a taste? I know I’m craving it.”

“No, Kai, wait!”

He starts to move back over to you, but your words stop him in his tracks. “No? You don’t want any more pleasure? If that’s the case, I can just do a few spells and then leave you here. When those stupid kids return to their classes on Monday, they can find an almost nude girl, hungry, probably crying, tied up to the ceiling fan. Orrrr,” he drags it out, “you can let me fuck you, as I intended to do upon stealing you.”

You fight back threatening tears, “please don’t leave me here.”

“I don’t want to, princess. Let me take care of you. The only condition is that you obey me.”

“Fine.”

“That’s a good girl,” he strokes your cheek, “no need to cry.” 

With one hand on your face still, the other dips below your panties, feeling around your wet, hot core. Two fingers go in, then two come out, glistening. Kai brings them to his mouth immediately, rolling his eyes in pleasure at your taste. “Amazing. Would you like to taste yourself?”

“I have.”

He grins wide. “I knew I liked you. C’mon, taste yourself on my fingers.”

He repeats the action, bringing them to your lips next. “Good?”

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Now, I wonder how you’d like this.” The knife reappears, and its hilt is, again, at your core. “Are you gonna let me strip you?”

You bite your lip. The thought of him fucking you with the knife sounds like absolute pleasure, but you hate to let Kai win.

“Come on, princess. The blinds are closed, no one can see you. It’s just you and me.”

“Fine.”

“That’s all? Just ‘fine’?” 

You nod. 

“Alright, I’ll take it.”

Kai hooks one finger around your panties and pulls them down your body. Your lower half is on display for him now; the only thing you have on at all is your bra. “Gorgeous,” he compliments with a lick of his lips. Then, still holding onto the knife, he buries the hilt into your pussy. It’s not deep at all, but it does bring some pleasure. Mostly because it’s a knife that he’s using, of all things. 

After letting you adjust to the feeling, he fucks you as best he can with it. He’s very close to your body, lips against your neck, fingers grazing your core, with every small thrust. You won’t cum from this, but it’s definitely checking off a box on your secret kinks list. “Oh!”

“Mhm, love to hear your whines.” He licks your neck before sucking on it.

If he were a vampire, he would be feeding from you right now. The quickly passing thought makes your body jolt. 

“Oh, princess, what was that?! Something got you all excited.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? We’re just gonna pretend that didn’t happen? Hm, fine. I’d gladly take input if you like to be pleasured a certain way.”

“This is fine.”

“Is it? Shoot, because I was just about to stop. Knife’s not doing it for me anymore. Need something bigger.”

You hate to admit he’s right. Hate it, hate it, hate it. But he’s turned you on, and now if he doesn’t pleasure you, you’re gonna make him regret it. 

“What do you suggest we do instead? I can magic fuck you, make you believe there’s something bigger, thicker between your legs. Or… I can get a bigger knife. Or, we could do this the old fashioned way,” he ghosts a hand over his pants. It’s just then you realize how tight they’ve gotten; how big the imprint against them is. 

Looking at it, you lick your lips, completely forgetting the setting. Of course, Kai notices. 

“You like that idea?”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“You don’t need to be scared of me. I said I’m going to take care of you.”

“Please, fuck me, Kai.”

“That’s a good girl, there you go. It’s okay to admit you need me.” He sets the knife down, then walks over to the chalkboard. “If I let you out of those cuffs, do you promise not to run?”

“Yes.”

“Just ‘yes’?

“Yes, daddy.”

“Much better. Do you promise not to scream?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Promise not to hurt me or escape in any way?”

“Yes, daddy, I promise, I swear.”

“You know if you’re lying, one little spell and I’ll have you back in my grasp. And if that happens, I won’t be so kind the second time. And I certainly won’t let you cum.”

“I know. I’m not lying.”

“Good.” He grabs the key, then stalks back over to you. “When I let you out, go over to that desk and kneel beside it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want to keep the knife nearby? As long as you’re a good girl, I promise to not hurt you.”

“Yes, I want it. I like it.”

“Good choice.”

You obey every order as soon as he unlocks the cuffs. Any sane girl would run for the hills despite their promises, but Kai said he’d let you cum, and he is going to, because you say so. You’re going to make this kidnapping worth your while. 

You're on your knees at the desk when he comes back over to you, knife in hand. As he talks to you, he undoes his belt and zipper, then pulls himself out. 

“Okay, princess. Get me ready but not off.”

“Yes, daddy.”

He holds the knife at the back of your neck, but you’re not too worried about it. If anything, it motivates you. You waste no time getting him in your mouth. No part of you wants to wait, and although that should be because you want to get this over with, you secretly know you’re too excited to go slowly. Kai’s average in size, but thick, and even before seeing his cock, you were attracted to his looks. And maybe you do have a little bit of stockholm syndrome, so this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you. Besides, the only time he’s actually hurt you was the small graze on your cheek. If he wanted to cause you harm, he would’ve threatened you more. Kai just seems to want sex, but doesn’t know how to ask.

“You better be smirking because you’re enjoying this, not because you’re plotting.”

“Eumh noph, flotphing,” you respond, mouth so full that the words are incomprehensible.

“What was that?”

You pull off him, a trail of spit still connecting your bottom lip to his length as you do. “I said I’m not plotting.”

“Yeah? Then what was that smirk?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how good you taste.”

“Sure you were.”

“Can I get back to it?” You bat your eyelashes.

“Yeah, go. No more funny business.”

After that, he seems to have decided to retake control of the situation, because the knife soon disappears off your neck - you hear it clang onto the desk - and both his hands find their way into your hair. He digs his fingers into your scalp, making you moan, which sends vibrations throughout his body.

“Good girl.”

For about a minute, he then holds your head in place and fucks himself into your mouth. Tears form in your eyes despite how much you’re actually enjoying it. Though before you know it, he’s pulling himself away from you. 

“How are you doing, princess? Think you can take my cock now? Are you still wet?”

“Yes,” you nod as you stand up. He even helps to guide you down onto the desk. “Though I still think you should go to hell.”

“The minute I take myself out of your mouth, it gets vulgar again.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

He smirks at the face you make, while lining up at the same time. To your surprise, and comfort, he starts slowly, giving you time to adjust. He starts with the tip, teasing your folds, then entering them just barely. Then, entering a little bit more, a little more, a lot more, until you finally nod for him to go fully. As soon as you give him the okay, he’s rocking hard into your body. The desk is shaking and you’re quickly a moaning mess. Sweat glistens at his forehead, somehow making him even hotter.

Suddenly, he’s chanting. Fear courses through your body, unsure of what he’s doing, what spell he’s producing. You’re about to interrupt, possibly burst into tears, when he stops. In fact, another noise stops, too. 

“What was that?”

“Stop that damn desk from shaking. Don’t want it to break and hurt you.”

His concern for you makes your heart warm. Maybe he is just a sad boy who needs to kidnap girls for sex, and uses his sociopathic tendencies to get his way. 

“Plotting again?”

“No, daddy.”

“Better not be.”

“Promise.”

“Good girl. Open your legs wider for me.”

You obey instantly, and he goes deeper. His finger on your upper cervix marks an area he’s hit repeatedly. He’s pressing into it gently, making you gasp each time he hits it again. 

“Kai?”

“What?”

“Knife.”

“You want the knife?”

You nod enthusiastically.

His spare hand grabs the knife again and presses it onto your throat. “Look at you, my sexy, kinky slut. You’re being such a good girl for daddy.” He drags the knife along your body, tracing your tits, your arms, then back to your neck. The finger on your cervix has since moved to your clit, rubbing it exactly how you like it. “Are you close?” He asks after a few more minutes.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, princess. You can do it. Come on,” he continues to coax you, not slowing down until you finally hit your high.

You cry out his name, whining and moaning, gasping for breath. Your legs are shaking and your core tightens around him. As you’re finishing, his is triggered. He cums inside of you in thick ropes, probably painting your insides white.

“Holy fuck,” he moans out, riding you through his own high. For a minute, he collapses on top of you in an effort to catch his breath. 

“Kai, no pill,” you say in between breaths.

“Yeah, and I don’t want fucking Gemini babies.”

He pulls out of you slowly. You’re both sensitive and he’s going soft. As soon as he’s out, his cum begins to leak out of you. Some of it he misses and it falls to the carpeted floor of the high school. “Oh well,” he only shrugs. The rest, he gathers in his palm and drips into his mouth. You watch him as he swishes it around, clearly swallowing half the load, but you know there’s more in his mouth. He locks eyes with you and taps his jaw. You know this is code for you to open yours. As predicted, he leans down to spit the mixture into your mouth. “Swallow it. That’s for spitting on me.”

“You deserved it,” you sass back after swallowing.

“Don’t interrupt my spell.”

You shut your mouth and instantly, he starts chanting. A minute later, he opens his eyes.

“Contraceptive spell.”

“That’s handy.”

“Yep.” Kai looks at you, seemingly admiring your body. “I’ll be back. Run if you so wish, or stay, I don’t care. You’ve served your purpose.”

And with that, he leaves the room. 

You sit in the empty room, staring at nothing in particular. There’s a dull burning on your core from his thrusts, and your cheek is still stinging a bit from the cut earlier, but overall, you’re still enjoying the effects from your high. You take a couple deep breaths, then glance over at the knife. It’s a gorgeous knife, of course it belongs to someone as beautiful as Kai Parker. 

Speak of the devil, his footsteps return. 

“How are you feeling, princess?” He leans in the doorway, twice in one day, This time, though, carrying a number of things.

You smile at him, “really good.”

“I didn’t go too far?”

“No, baby, you were perfect.”

“Okay, good.” He comes over to stand beside you again, setting down his supplies. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

“Okay.”

He hands you a water first, “drink as much as you can,” he points to it. “Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“Okay, I got you.” He wipes you down with a wet but warm washcloth, then follows it up with a dry one. On and around your pussy, he applies a moisturizer that instantly makes it feel better. He massages your hips and thighs, too, easing any tension that may have built up from your position. 

“Kiss me, Kai.” The boy stops mid-care to give into your will. He kisses you sweetly, cupping your face. His hands on your chin graze the magic cut, and he breaks the kiss to look at it.

“Shit, that’s worse than I intended.”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. A little dull pain, but I’ve told you before, I like pain.”

“Mhm, but I’m still going to clean it up, okay?” 

You nod. Kai takes out a new washcloth and dabs the cut clean, before applying some kind of natural healing cream to it. “Feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to get this one on your chest now.” He repeats the same process to the cut between your breasts.

“Okay. Anywhere else hurting?”

“You didn’t hurt me anywhere, baby.” 

“I know, but anywhere else you need a little care? How’s that wording instead?”

“Not that I can think of. You got the three spots that were a little sore.”

“Okay.”

“I do need a new shirt, though. You cut open my one.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“That was so fucking hot. I didn’t know you were going to do that.”

“Hey, we had to leave some of the night up for improvisation. What’s the fun in planning it all?”

You grin at him, beckoning him closer with your hands for a hug, As you break apart, though, your face grows sad. “Speaking of which…”

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah, but um… I didn’t go too far, did I?”

“When?”

“When I was egging you on earlier. When I brought up your dad. I didn’t mean it. You’re not weak; you’re a lot stronger than you know for surviving that prison world.”

“That? No worries, gorgeous, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“But it hurt you, I know it did. I could see it in your eyes.”

“Well, it is partly true. I am afraid of him. But I’m okay, I promise. You didn’t go too far, we were both playing around. And I said much worse to you.”

“I’m sorry, Kai.”

“Rest your little head, darling, it’s okay. You’re perfectly okay.”

“If he ever does come and even try to hurt you, I’d kick his ass so hard he’d be choking on my boot.”

The threat makes Kai laugh. A genuine, happy laugh. “I know you will. I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too.”

“While we’re on this page, though, I didn’t go too far, either, right?”

“Nope, I’m all good.”

“Good, okay.”

“Hey, did you really drink a sex tea, or was that made up?”

“Oh no, princess, I really drank one. And yes, I could smell your arousal, and it tasted as good as it smelled.” He notices your blush. “All that and you’re getting shy now?”

“I can’t help it! You’re so fucking hot, Kai. You’re hot when you’re praising me, and you’re hot when you’re calling me a slut. And oh my god, you’re hottest with that knife, pressed against my throat. I- I- um… I need- we need to do this more often.”

Your confession has Kai just as red as it has you, “I am certainly down to do this again. Say, we could even switch up the location. How would you feel tied to a tree, maybe?”

“Or what if I force you on your knees in that Lockwood cellar, hm?”

Kai’s jaw drops. “That can definitely be arranged.” The thought of you in a dominant position over him suddenly renders him paralyzed. 

“Good,” you kiss his cheek. 

“But before any of that, we need a couple calmer nights. We’ll talk them through again, too.”

“Of course. Is ‘go to hell’ still a good consent phrase?”

“It’s perfect. Work for you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s go home, princess. I’m not done caring for you yet. Finish that water, and I’m going to cook you dinner.”

“Okay, Kai.”

“And, we really need to get out of this high school, before the post-spring-break janitors come by.”

“Are we gonna get the little bit of cum you missed?” You point to the small, but darkening stain on the carpet.

“Nope,” Kai smirks, “they can play Salem witch trials with that.”

“Mystic Falls trials of which students snuck in to fuck over break.”

“Exactly. Jokes on them, we’re not in high school.”

“Nope, and technically, you’re old enough to actually be my daddy.”

“Y/N, we’ve hashed this out before!”

“I know, I’m just messing with you… daddy.”

“You better stop before you dig yourself a hole there.”

You giggle, “I would, but I’m tired. And I want you to cook me dinner, because you cook really well.”

“Thank you, princess.” Kai takes your hand, his supplies in the other, to start the walk home.

“Don’t forget the knife,” you snort, grabbing it with your own spare hand.

“Definitely don’t forget the knife. Thank you, again, love.” With a final kiss shared between you two, you make your way home. 

[cosmal]

CONGRATULATIONS!!

spacey jane: remus lupin + glitch / taylor

we were supposed to be just friends. you don't live in my part of town, but maybe I'll see you out some weekend. depending on what kind of mood and situationship i'm in and what's in my system.

lovely boy

summary — remus lupin thinks you can do better.

content — remus lupin x fem!reader, she/her, drunk!reader, alcohol, shitty situationship

note — i know this would really be like a friends with benefits type prompt but i’ve already got a drabble with a glitch prompt like that in my drafts. so i kinda went with the situationship moment here!!! it’s also really rushed and i didn’t know where to go with it at the end sorry!!!!

Embarrassed tears are worse than upset tears, you’ve concluded.

They’re hot and they’re sticky, and super hard to hold back. They bubble up your throat and make it hard to breathe. You cry because you’re embarrassed, resulting in more tears for reacting like that in the first place.

You want to cry up a storm and feel stupid for feeling this way. You decide to hide yourself in the kitchen where you hope no one can find you. Standing to the side, hidden behind pots and pans hanging from the breakfast bar.

The boy you’re really starting to think you don’t like, is really awful. He mocks you and diminishes any thought you have about how he treats you. He makes you think everything is your fault, and the worst thing about it, is most of the time you really do think it is.

He does this thing where he treats you lovely when he thinks he should. When you’re at home in his bedroom, when he’s around your friends or family. Then he gets around his own friends and he likes to pick on you and laugh at your own expense.

You hate that you let him walk all over you but if you tell him you don’t like it or you get upset, you’re the girl who ruins the fun. The girl who overreacts.

Embarrassed tears are the worst. Even more so when you’re a little tipsy and you have zero volume control. You sniffle into the back of your hand when you can hold your breath, pulling it away when your head hurts.

You don’t notice anyone else in the room until he’s speaking. You hold your breath like you’ve been caught.

“Y/N?”

You wrinkle your face when you realise who it is. A boy in your class who you’d rather not see you like this.

“That you?” he asks again. You feel bad for ignoring him but the idea of him seeing you so upset is worse. “I’ve been looking f’you everywhere.”

You turn your head. Remus Lupin stands on the other side of the bar with a bottle of water in his hands.

“Remus,” you hiccup, scrambling to wipe at your warm cheeks. He gives you a soft smile in return and it really hurts. How kind he is and how much you like him.

“Hey,” he says even softer. He offers you the water bottle and it crinkles in his hand. You decide you should probably take it from him, smiling as kindly as you can when you grasp it.

You hold it to your chest. It’s damp and cold where it presses into your skin. “M’sorry,” you mumble, “just really needed a moment.”

Remus rounds the kitchen bar to stand next to you. You try to think back to then you’d started to think he was attractive. How you didn’t want to be caught up with a boy who you really wished you’d save yourself from.

Remus is lovely. Sometimes too lovely, you think. Then he says, “Are you okay?” and you really want to hug him.

“Yeah,” you say. Sniffling despite yourself. “He just really upset me.”

Remus hums, crossing his arms. “He’s totally awful.”

“He’s not,” you argue. You’re not sure why but you can’t stop yourself. “He just doesn’t understand me sometimes.”

Remus turns to take the cap off the water bottle. You sip from it because you should. Mainly because he wants you to. You blink slowly, you might be more drunk than you realise.

“You shouldn’t defend him like that.”

“It was just a laugh.” You really can’t stop yourself from protecting him. Because if he’s like that, what does that say about you? A girl who wants to find love anywhere she can get it, doesn’t matter how shitty the person is who she gets it from. Pitiful, really.

“You don’t look like you’re laughing, to me, dove.”

Dove eats at your tongue, heavy with guilt. You wish you weren’t in such a situation. Remus, despite only talking to you a handful of times, has always been extremely nice to you.

“I’m overreacting,”

Remus looks a mixture of all things sympathetic and pitiful. You really despise it, mainly on your own behalf because you don’t want him to look at you like that. You like it better when he’s giving you that soft smile he does when you see each other at school. It’s better when it’s full of mirth, nothing but.

If you feel suddenly dizzy because you’re upset with yourself or if the effects of too many wine coolers are hitting you, you’re not sure. Your chest feels tight and the tiles beneath you start to wobble.

You grasp Remus’s forearm and don’t stop the tear that falls down your cheek this time. Sniffling you say, “I’m sorry, Remus. I might go home.”

Remus let’s you use him to stable yourself, hand finding purchase on the hinge of your elbow. He presses his fingers into the palm of his free hand to refrain himself from wiping away your tears. He’s incensed that some stupid guy has made you feel this way, because you’re a friend (he hopes) and he hates seeing you like this, but he’s not about to overstep.

“Yeah?” he asks. Watching where water bunches your eyelashes into triangles when you blink. “How you getting home?”

You blink some more, swallowing, “Well I was um- I was going home with him. He was my ride.”

“Right.”

You wrinkle your face. “I don’t want to go home with him,” you sniffle, wiping cruelly at your damp cheeks with the back of your hand. Remus cringes at your flippancy.

“Hey, it’s okay, I can call you a taxi, yeah?”

“Will you? That’d be so amazing.” You smile. It’s wet and a little sad, but Remus still loves it.

“Of course.”

Remus calls you a taxi and waits outside with you in the cold after you’d begged him not to. Remus, I’m fine. It’s really cold, you can go back inside.

He tells you, with only kindness in his heart, that you really shouldn’t hang around that guy anymore. That he’s got plenty of friends that would love to meet you. That he really wants to spend more time with you himself.

You’d never say no to him. Remus is the loveliest boy you know.

[steddieonmywaywardson]

The Ghost (1990 movie) au nobody asked for!

“Argh! What the fuck? You’re here?” She shrieks. Before Steve can answer, she shakes her head as she begins to pace back and forth in front of the couch. “No. No. You’re not. You’re not here at all,” she babbles. “This was bound to happen. Overactive imagination. That’s what they all say. I’ve been watching too many movies. Concentrating too much on my script. It’s starting to bleed into real life and you’re just a figment of my imagination because I’m tired. Yup. That’s it,”

“I need your help Robin. I-“

“My help?” She laughs mirthlessly. “Oh no. No, no, no,” she’s shaking her head again. “I’m no help to anyone. I need to cut my hours at the video store…and I need to give the writing a break. Maybe go back home to Indiana. That sounds good right now…”

“I’m not a figment of your imagination,” Steve replies gently. He’s been so caught up in the fact that he’s finally found someone who can hear him, he’s forgotten how terrifying it must be for Robin. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way, trust me, but you’re the first person since I died that’s been able to hear me,”

“Since you died?” Robin blinks. She’s still shaking her head in disbelief. “I can talk to dead people. Like some weird superpower or something…I couldn’t write this shit if I tried…” she slumps down on the couch and puts her head in her hands.

“You’re a writer?” Steve asks.

“Trying to be,” Robin replies, looking up. “Between taking shifts at a video store and an ice cream place to make ends meet,” she sighs. “And now I’m talking to you, as if I wasn’t having a mental breakdown right now. Who are you anyway?”

“My name’s Steve Harrington-“

“Uh huh. Do I know you or something? I don’t remember any Steve Harringtons…” she thinks for a moment. “Wait, were you the guy in my media class? The one who was always leaving his muffin crumbs all over the classroom floor?”

“No. I’m…well, I was a banker. Working near Tribeca-“ Steve answers.

“A banker?” Robin says incredulously. She rolls her eyes. “Why the hell would I make that up? I know nothing about banking!”

It’s obvious they’re getting nowhere but Steve needs to do this. He needs her to hear him so he can save Eddie from Jason.

“I’ll prove to you I’m real! Do you have last week’s newspaper?”

Robin narrows her eyes at him but she dutifully stands up and disappears into the small kitchen. A few moments later, she comes back with a crumpled newspaper, obviously rescued from the garbage. She sits back down and throws the paper onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Turn to page fifteen,” Steve says.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…” She mutters to herself as she unfolds the newspaper and rifles through it until she reaches the right page.

“Left column, near the bottom,” Steve instructs.

He watches as Robin’s eyes dart across the page and stop when she reaches the article. Her eyes widen.

“Ok so….that doesn’t prove you’re real,” she says after a minute or two. “If anything, it proves my overtired theory. I clearly read about you and now my subconscious is manifesting you,” she explains. “Yeah, I took psychology in college,”

“Please Robin,” Steve says desperately. “I know this is a really shitty situation, OK? I’m dead. I was murdered actually and I’ve been taken away from the love of my life and it just so happens you’re the only person I know of that can hear me. Do I wish it was different? Fuck yeah I do. If I have to…be dead, then why can’t it be my boyfriend who hears me y’know?”

“Your boyfriend?” Robin suddenly looks interested. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah but-“

“Huh.” Robin replies. She opens her mouth as if there’s going to be more, but shakes her head again. “So…why do you need my help?”

[thenon-fictiondays]

Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-4

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 4

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At long last, tomorrow is the day of the cultural festival.

He’d thought they’d definitely stay late after school to prepare on the eve of the festival, but by rule of the student council, everyone had gone home at the same time today.

It can be said that this policy, which makes no allowances for the classes that were unable to finish their preparations in the time allotted, is typical of a school that values autonomy.

Even the culture clubs’ practices are restricted, and extracurricular activities are also entirely forbidden.

Thanks to that, Kagiura has been on pins and needles. Even though he’d tried to study in his room to suppress his flighty nerves, he can’t make himself focus on English vocabulary at all. Numerical formulas are somehow even more impossible.

Such being the case, he has since been reading a basketball magazine he subscribes to.

“Hey, you like cookies?”

At the sound of Hirano’s voice, Kagiura’s head snaps up.

“Yeah, I like ‘em!”

“Cool. I’ve got some left over that we made in home ec today; you want one?”

As he passes over a cookie, he adds, “I forgot all about them.”

Kagiura would’ve thought it’d just be the round type, but it’s the type of cookie with two colors so you can break it into pieces cleanly. It’s amazing. It looks especially good. 

“Sure, I’ll take it!”

Male students’ homemade sweets are even more of a rarity than their homemade cooking.

Kagiura had made drop candy in his elementary school cooking class, which was his one and only experience in the subject.

“It’s all yours. There was one that Sasaki made, that he made look like a cat’s face, kind of like a tuxedo cat? It was super fancy. Should’ve taken a picture.”

“Did you make this one?”

“Yeah. We used the same dough, though.”

“I think yours is beautiful.”

“Huh? …Oh, haha, thanks. I kinda feel like you’re saying that to make me feel better, but I wasn’t trying to fish for compliments.”

“...Can I eat it now?”

It’ll be dinnertime soon.

“Ah…well, it’ll be our little secret. I’ll eat some, too.”

To Kagiura’s surprise, he puts a finger to his lips in the universal shh gesture.

Gguhh, Kagiura chokes on the cookie he’s already put in his mouth.

“What’s wrong?!”

From hanging out together for half a year, he should know that Hirano’s a soft person by nature, but he still can’t get over it.

“Th- the cookie got into my organs…”

“The fuck?!”

He likes him…maybe.

It shouldn’t leave the realm of maybe yet.

“Th- they were so tasty I kinda ate them too fast…”

Hirano bursts out laughing at his attempt to save face.

This guy laughs so much!

“Hahaha…Gotcha, I’m glad then, ahahaha.”

“Jeez, it’s not that funny!”

He covers his face with the open magazine, protesting that he’s already embarrassed enough, but Hirano’s still laughing as he apologizes.

“Damn. You know, if I ever get married, I hope I find someone who wears their heart on their sleeve like you do.”

At that moment, it’s as if time has stopped.

“.......?!”

Kagiura freezes, the basketball magazine falling from his hands.

“Oh, it’s dinnertime. Let’s go.”

Does he not realize what he just said?

No respect for the fact that he’s just taken Kagiura out in one hit.

Still in shock, Kagiura heads out for dinner slightly behind.

*****

On the long-awaited festival day, the skies are so clear it’s almost too hot.

Inside, the school is teeming with people.

As one would expect of the one day when even current students are allowed to wear casual clothes, there’s color everywhere you look.

Kagiura is wearing the original T-shirt his class had ordered.

The orange uniform, printed with the word “yakitori” and a drawing of meat skewers, stands out quite a bit for its simplicity.

Even as he’d listened to his classmates complain that they didn’t know what kind of casual clothes to wear at school, Kagiura had just figured “it’s hot, so a t-shirt is the only way to go”. But on the day of, he sort of understands how they feel.

The school where they spend all their time in uniforms is suddenly awash with all sorts of outfits. Just this fact is enough to make the vibe a little jittery, like they’re cutting loose.

Even Kagiura, who’s used to wearing casual clothes in the dorms, feels that way, so the students who commute from home probably feel even more out of place.

This time last year, Kagiura, whose choices of cram schools hadn’t been few, had not yet decided his future plans. As a result, he didn’t come to last year’s cultural festival, although it had been a perfect day to visit the school.

Everything he’s seeing is new to him, and although he’s been watching it all come together, each new wonder just deepens his excitement.

And of course, all of the food looks delicious.

Before noon, when he goes to visit Hirano’s class, cultural festival pamphlet in hand, Hirano soon appears, dressed in his favorite white T-shirt.

He lets Kagiura decide their itinerary, since “it’s my second year at this”.

They walk past someone holding up a sign that reads “Cheesy yakisoba in the courtyard!!”

He may be a rival in the Courtyard Stall battle, but Kagiura plans to go buy from them later.

The line for the yakitori stand is quite long; it’s grown from the time Kagiura was managing the stall in the morning.

After they get through the line and are handed a cup of yakitori, Kagiura takes them here and there, tugging at Hirano’s arm.

*****

Prev || Next

✨ANNOUNCEMENT✨

As I've been winding down work on the novel, seeing all yalls comments and support made me super emotional, and I wanted to do something to show my thanks. So I've decided to host a lil giveaway for everyone who's been following along with these updates and sharing your thoughts and reactions with me! I'll make a separate post with more details but I wanted to talk about it on one of the updates since I figured a separate post would just get buried lmao

And as always a very heartfelt thank you to my reading list members @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, @acidsuzanne-blog, @neoday, @lary-the-lizard, @tsmginc much love as always ✨

[circus4apsycho8]

𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕. | 𝚊𝚌𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚊 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 | 𝚌𝚑. 𝚟𝚒

𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢'𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎.

“Hey kid. Come on in.”

You step aside, allowing Romeo to enter your home. Acnologia is out attending his classes for the day, leaving the house to yourself.

“Thanks,” he replies, stepping inside. You notice he’s tenser then normal, which doesn’t surprise you.

You gesture for him to have a seat at your dining room table. “Can I get you any snacks or drinks?”

“I think I’m okay for now, but thank you.”

You nod, sitting down across from him. “All right. So I know you heard Alexander’s real name.”

“Yeah…I’ve been thinking on it for a while.”

“I know you have. I’m here to tell you the facts, not change your mind about him,” you say. “I met him when we battled, as you know. Ever since we traveled together, I started noticing improvements in his character. Which…I understand why you’re hesitant to trust him. I was too at first, but as I got to know him, I realized that he’s just been too enveloped in his magic to see the good in Dragon Slayers.”

“I heard Natsu and Lucy talking to Makarov about his attack on Tenrou,” he notes, sighing heavily. “It’s just…hard for me to know that he’s the reason our guild mates went missing for seven years. And now he’s here. With you.”

“I understand that,” you say softly. “He’s proving to me that he’s getting better. He retained control while we were fighting the dragons, and he’s been working hard to improve his healing and character.”

“I see that now,” Romeo says, shifting his gaze to your face. “And I really think it’s just going to take me a little while to get over it.”

“It’s okay,” you say, smiling. “He knows what he did was wrong, and he’s trying to atone for it as best he can now.”

“I’ll try to give him a break. What do you mean by him trying to maintain control, by the way?”

“He has these…blackouts,” you answer, frowning as you recall that conversation. “He loses control of his magic and conscience self, and his inner dragon controls him while he’s passed out.”

“Oh,” he replies. “I see.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t excuse what he did, because he had to kill a lot of dragons to get to that point, but it does explain.”

“His magic is so powerful….” Romeo comments. “But he’s doing a lot of good now. He saved you, he’s been working on himself, he acknowledges he needs to change and has been getting better. So… ”

“He also joined Crime Sorcière,” you add. “They’re going on their first mission with him this weekend, I believe.”

“Okay,” Romeo replies, smiling. You see his shoulders relax a little bit. “I still don’t think I can forgive him just yet, but…I’ll give him a chance.”

“And that’s all I ask,” you say with a smile.

“I feel a lot better about this now,” he confesses, standing up. You follow his motion, grinning as you ruffle his hair.

“I’m glad,” you state. “Are you doing okay, though? Not just physically…I know what you saw is hard to cope with.”

“Oh…yeah…” His smiles fades as he sighs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having nightmares ever since. But my dad is looking into therapy, so…”

“Good. It’ll help.”

“I hope so. It’s been hard for me to sleep lately.”

“I bet. But let me just say that you’re doing well. Just make sure you get the help you need, all right? And I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“Thank you,” he says, smiling as he comes to hug you. “I should get back to the guild now. But thanks for this, I needed it.”

“Anytime. Be safe, you hear?”

“Got it. See you later!”

With that, Romeo exits your home, leaving you with your thoughts.

Hmm. Maybe you should take a job? It’s not like you have much to do right now. Maybe you should wait for Acnologia to get home first and ask if he would want to come with you.

You look around, realizing that your house is a bit of a mess. Well, maybe some tidying wouldn’t hurt in the meantime. Mind set, you start straightening your house up.

After a while, you’re interrupted by a knock on your door. Hm, not Acnologia. So who?

Upon opening it, you find Jellal standing there.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hello,” he replies. “Is Acnologia here?”

“Not yet, he’s still at his lecture for the day.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I have a question for you as well.”

“All right, come on in then.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to enter. He does so quickly and with elegance. Once more, you have a seat across from your guest.

“So, as you know, our first mission featuring Acnologia is coming up this weekend,” he starts. “We were wondering if you’d like to come with us?”

“What’s the mission?”

“We’ve caught wind of one of Zeref’s demons lurking in a small village near the northern coast. According to Ultear’s research, we think they’re planning to cause a large-scale massacre on the full moon occurring this Sunday.”

“Demons, huh? Why wait for a full moon?”

“There’s something different about this type,” Jellal replies, frowning. “I don’t know what, though. That’s why we thought we’d offer you to come with.”

“I’ll talk to Acnologia first before I decide. I wouldn’t mind joining, but I want to make sure he’s okay with it too. He’ll be home shortly.”

“Excellent. There is one more matter I wish to discuss…” he sighs, expression growing serious. “We are looking at defeating Zeref in the next year or so. We’re going to need all of the help we can get, and if we could enlist your help…”

“Of course,” you reply, straightening your posture. “Zeref has done enough damage. I’ll be glad to help stop his sorry ass.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the bluenette replies.

The two of you talk for a bit longer before the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Moments later, Acnologia walks in.

“Hey!” you greet with a smile as you go to hug him. He grins, returning your embrace and pecking your cheek. “How was your day?”

“It went well enough. And yours?”

“Good,” you reply. “We have a visitor!”

“Ah, Jellal,” Acnologia releases you (much to your dismay) and walks over to the table, where you both sit down.

“Hello. How are you doing?”

“Well, thank you. How about yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I have some matters to discuss with you about our upcoming mission.”

“I’m clear to go,” Acnologia answers, leaning back. “We’re leaving Friday, right?”

“Correct. We’re leaving early Friday morning. I’ll send you the details later on, but as of right now, that’s our plan.”

“Acno, do you mind if I tag along with you guys?”

“Of course not, love,” he replies with a small smile.

“Okay, I just wanted to ask.”

“Perfect. I’ll tell Ultear that you’ll be accompanying us as well.”

You nod, leaning back. “Sounds good.”

...

“This one?”

Acnologia frowns, studying the flash card in your hand. You giggle slightly upon seeing that the tip of his tongue is poking out between his lips, a confused expression on his face.

“Don’t make fun of me,” he growls playfully. “It’ll come to me in a second.”

After Jellal left, you decided to help Acnologia study for another exam. It’s been kind of successful, but you’re in the mood to mess with him for some reason.

“You can do it,” you encourage, a teasing smile on your lips. “...I think.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

He goes silent for a moment, gazing piercing through you in the way that sends excited chills down your spine. Moments later, he lunges forward to grab your cheeks, pulling your face to his. He kisses you roughly, causing you to drop the flashcards so you can wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

Seconds later, he pulls away with a smirk. “That seemed to work.”

“Whatever,” you reply with a grin. “Okay, back to studying!”

“I don’t feel like studying anymore.”

“Oh?”

“I want to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“You.”

You laugh, going to sit on his lap. He encircles you within his arms as he pulls you towards him. “That was bad.”

“Maybe so, but it’s true,” he mumbles, a soft smile on his lips as he gazes up to you. The two of you quietly stare at each other for a few heartbeats. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Acno...”  you mumble, smiling as your heart melts. “Thank you. You are too, though.”

“I could never compare to you,” he mumbles, raising one hand to brush against your cheek.

“Acno!” you whine, drawing out the last syllable of his name as you wiggle in his grasp. He only holds you tighter, grinning against the skin of your neck.

“What? Everything I’m saying is true.”

“Stars, you’re so sweet...” you mumble, resting your head against his shoulder. Mmm. You could stay like this forever.

“Not as sweet as you.”

“Dude!”

He chuckles. “It’s the truth.”

“Give yourself some credit too!”

“I don’t need that,” he says, smiling softly.

“You do need it, you’re just edgy,” you tease, booping his nose.

He scrunches his face. “Hmph.”

Another giggle escapes you as press a kiss to his cheek. “Are you excited about the job?”

“I am. It’s going to be my first official mission.”

“I think it’s going to be fun. Plus, we get to go with Crime Sorcière! I’ve heard such great things about their group!”

“Really?”

You nod. “They have such powerful wizards, like Jellal and Ultear. We can learn a lot from them!”

“That’s true. Do you know if the whole guild is coming?”

“I don’t think so. Angel and Meredy are in Crocus visiting Sabertooth, I think, and Racer and Hoteye are working on another mission.”

“So, it’ll be us, Jellal, Ultear, and…who else?”

“Cobra and Midnight,” you finish.

“And you haven’t met any of them besides Jellal?”

“Nope.”

“I see. Well, how about we get to bed, love? We have an early morning ahead of us.”

…

“Is this the spot?”

“Yes. We’re a bit early, so we still have a few minutes,” Acnologia answers as you glance around.

The early morning sky looms above the two of you, a soft breeze raising goosebumps on your skin. Despite the hour, you can’t help but feel like something is off about the town. You know you’re being watched.

By the looks of it, though, the demonic infestation haunting this town would not be a problem for much longer. Jellal’s letter had instructed the two of you to meet them at Hargeon Town at the listed time. From there, you all would initiate the search for the possessed townspeople. Hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem considering the nature of your magic.

After a few hours of traveling, the two of you managed to make it to Hargeon just in time. Beginning to grow anxious to hunt down Zeref’s demons, you step underneath a nearby streetlight in order to read the job description:

Location: Hargeon Town Task: eliminate demonic activity located near the 8-Island restaurant. Lethal force unauthorized unless facing life-or-death situation. Goal: eradicate all evil from villagers, who have been possessed by Zeref’s lower-level threats. I have a confirmed record of about a dozen, but that’s only the ones that have been seen. We need to exorcise the entities out without harming the villagers. If Erik and Acnologia cannot pick up their scent, we will have to find another way to figure out where they are hiding. Reward: up to 100k Jewel if done correctly. Additional Note: Stay aware in this area. This town is home to Yajima-san. We will need to work quickly as to not cross paths with him.

“How does Jellal get this kind of money?” you wonder, stowing the paper in a safe place.

“From what I heard, he and Ultear managed to negotiate a grant contract with an organization that specializes in criminal reformation,” answers your boyfriend as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Wow, that’s both impressive and clever,” you note, stepping closer towards him. It’s a little bit chilly out, and he seems to sense that as he slings an arm around your shoulders. The warmth from his body helps you stop shivering for the time being.

“Thanks,” you mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Anything for you,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you doing okay? You seem a bit restless.”

“I love hunting demons,” you admit, jitteriness overcoming you. “It’s my favorite type of job. Their presence here is overwhelming. I can tell they’re going to put up a decent fight considering they stem from Zeref’s magic.”

Acnologia nods. “I understand that.”

A few seconds later, Acnologia suddenly turns in the direction of the road, where you spot Jellal and the others walking towards you. The heavenly body magic is with a tall, dark-haired woman and two men – one, however, seems to be asleep on a floating carpet. Interesting.

You offer a brief wave in greeting as the two of you approach them.

“Good morning,” Jellal greets. “It looks like we’re all here. Excellent. First things first – this is Ultear, Midnight, and Cobra. This is Acnologia and…” he introduces you. “Acnologia is our new recruit and she is a Devil Slayer who agreed to help us fight Zeref.”

“A Devil Slayer? That’ll simplify this mission tenfold,” Cobra notes as he shakes hands with Acnologia. “Regardless, it’s nice to meet you both.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Acnologia replies as you shake Cobra’s hand.

“It is an honor to be working with you both,” Ultear adds with a small smile.

“Same here. I’ve heard amazing things about your magic,” you state.

Cobra lazily points a thumb towards Midnight. “That’s Midnight, but he’s always asleep. If he wakes up soon, I’ll force him to properly introduce himself.”

“Anyways, we should get started in the interest of time,” Jellal interjects.

You nod in agreement. “They already know we’re here.”

“How can you tell?” Cobra questions.

“They’re watching us. They cannot understand our words but they can sense our intention. They aren’t going down without a fight.”

“In that case, what’s our plan?” Jellal wonders.

“Leave the exorcism up to me. There are lots of them here, but we’ll need to subdue all of them if we’re to complete the job without harming the people. Exorcisms are dangerous for the vessel, so we need to get the demons as weakened as we possibly can.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cobra states. “Where are we headed?”

“This way,” you answer, leading the group towards a clearing in the town. “A large portion of them are gathered just beyond the forest line.”

“Acnologia and Cobra. Can you guys smell them?” you question, spotting Midnight merely peeking one eye open.

“I’m picking up a weak trail,” Acnologia notes.

“Me too. It’s coming from the forest. I can hear them, too. They think they’re being sneaky.”

A twisted grin settles on your face as you ready yourself for battle. “Void Ray!”

Your furrowed stare spies figures emerging from the forest. A ball of dark magic gathers in the tips of your fingers before you send it spiraling out towards the group. The others leap into action, joining in on the attack.

“Dokuryū no Hōkō!” Cobra yells, sending a blast of poison towards their group.

“Invisible Scythe!” Midnight adds, causing ethereal blades to slice towards the demons.

As the demons fall from the first few attacks, Acnologia backs up. “Eternal Flare!”

Magic stars barrel down onto the fallen foes, eliciting the possessed humans to screech inhumanely before they rush towards your group. You can tell they’re all injured and suffering from Cobra’s poison, but the pain doesn’t seem to affect them.

Midnight suddenly steps in front of you and sweeps his right arm out to the side, causing an unseen force of magic to make the group fall.

You snap your fingers while chanting underneath your breath, causing a symbol in the shape of a pentagram to appear on the ground underneath the fallen bodies. There are five symbols in each space between the points of the star-like figure inside.

“Damn you,” one of the demons spits. “Our Emperor will kill you all!”

“Yeah, he’ll get them. There’s no need for us to worry,” another adds.

“Banish Demon,” you mumble, causing the magic circle to light up a dim purple as all of the demons inside the circle start writhing in an attempt to resist the powerful spell. Within moments, all the demons have been exorcised as the humans scream out in agony.

And then, the evil within them dissipates entirely. The pentagram fades and you smile, left with a bunch of confused humans.

“I thought you said they were gonna put up a fight,” Cobra jokes, glancing at you with a smirk.

You chuckle, shrugging. “It appears I was wrong.”

A wave of hushed murmurs catches your attention. You turn to see the townspeople nervously studying you and the others.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you. The demons are gone. Are you all okay?” you ask, leaning down to help them each up.

“I feel weak...what happened?” one person asks. This one is a young woman of about twenty years or so. You’re glad this exorcism went well – the results of a bleaker outcome would have been horrific to say the least.

“You were possessed by some of Zeref’s lower-level demons,” Midnight answers, “but they should be gone for good now. If you’ll let us put an anti-possession symbol on you, then you shouldn’t get possessed ever again.”

“You’re feeling weak because of the poison I used. It’s a weaker one that just tires you out. It won’t actually hurt you, it just takes a bit of time to wear off.” Cobra explains next.

“Is anyone hurt?” you ask.

Acnologia goes around healing anyone who has an injury before you and the other five set about stamping anti-possession tattoos on their bodies.

“Um...aren’t they fugitives?” asks a man who is clearly shaken. “I feel like I’ve seen them on the Council’s most-wanted list.”

“They are, yes, but they’re trying to make up for their sins. They’re good people, trust me.”

“How do you know that?” a nearby woman asks you.

“Tell me something,” you say, catching Acnologia’s gaze as you step in front of the crowd. “My old mentor once asked me: ‘What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?’ What do you all think?”

That question always gets people. The group falls silent.

“Well, in any case, we recommend that you keep a hefty supply of salt, iron, silver, and holy water handy just in case of a supernatural attack. In that case, your best bets are wizards from legal guilds,” Jellal adds. “We tend to drift about, so it’ll be quicker to alert the legal guilds.”

Ultear nods in response. “Additionally, we would greatly appreciate it if you all keep quiet about our involvement here.”

“Or just say that I was here,” you suggest.

After getting the rest of the villagers secured, you rejoin the group at the road.

“That took way less time and effort than I expected,” Cobra admits once you arrive. “We normally have such a hard time hunting those assholes down. But you knew exactly where they were and how to get rid of them. Did you even read an exorcism?”

You shake your head. “I created a spell that implanted the exorcism’s language into the magic in order to expedite exorcisms.”

“That’s clever,” Jellal notes as Acnologia steps beside you, looping an arm around your waist.

“I mean…if you guys are really set on fighting Zeref, I wouldn’t mind teaching you how to cast it,” you offer.

“We would greatly appreciate that,” Ultear says, smiling at you. “Though…we have another matter we’d like to discuss with you.”

“What’s up?”

“Well…as you were finishing up, Ultear and I decided to make you an offer. We’d like to formally offer you dual guildship with our guild.”

“Dual guildship? That exists?” you wonder.

Ultear nods in response. “It’s rare because it’s hard work, but has been done before. Your primary focus would still lie in Fairy Tail, of course, but you would still be considered a full member of Crime Sorcière at the same time.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you turn towards Acnologia. He chuckles softly, nodding at you. “Are you kidding? Of course, I’d love to be a part of this guild!”

“We are delighted to hear it!” Jellal says as a slight tingling sensation emanates from your skin. You realize it must be your new guild mark.

Cobra grins, patting your back a few times. “Hey, welcome to the team. Both of you.”

…

Two days pass, and you and Acnologia make it home without trouble. Jellal promised to keep in contact, and you’re hoping to hear back from him soon.

With Acnologia out taking his exam, you’re left home alone with a bit of time to pass. Laxus had invited you on a mission with the Thunder Legion, which you’d accepted since you didn’t have much else to do.

You quietly hum as you change into a fresh outfit, checking your appearance over in the mirror. Hopefully Acnologia would do well on his exam – he had been studying hard for it but still struggled with some of the material.

Once you’re ready, you dart to the living room, gathering the rest of your belongings before making your way to the guildhall.

Upon arrival, you’re greeted with the typical ruckus you’d grown used to. Laxus and the Thunder Legion are seated at the bar, speaking with Mirajane.

After weaving your way through your guildmates, you have a seat next to Evergreen, greeting the group.

“Hey guys,” you say, smiling at Mirajane.

“There you are,” Laxus replies. “Ready to head out?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, noting that the commotion has seemingly increased for some reason. Hm, someone must be unconscious now. You’re about to ask the white-haired bartender something, but the question dies in your throat as you see her expression.

She’s frowning, staring at something behind you. “Mira? What is i-?”

You’re cut off as someone harshly grabs the back of your neck, slamming your head down onto the counter. A grunt escapes you as the person snatches your wrists, yelling your name as your guildmates start shouting at whoever’s grabbing you.

“By order of the Magic Council, you are under arrest!”

[annie-creates]

One day in a year

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader (kinda platonic)

Genre: fluff

Words: 900

Note: We got a hundred followers! Thank you so much everyone for the support, likes, comments and requests sent. Here's a birthday fic to celebrate. Maybe I can add another character to my repertoire? What would you think? Who should it be? <3

It started with rain. You hated rain. It got you all wet and cold but without the childish excitement snow did. The weather made you not want to get out of bed, but you were a big girl and couldn’t hide away from your responsibilities just because you didn’t like the climate. It wasn’t even a weekend so the pleasure of sleeping in wasn’t indulged to you. With a heavy sigh you got out of bed, choosing a dress to wear today and leaving for breakfast, hoping there was still some sweets left for you.

Due to your absentminded state you accidentally put salt in your morning coffee. Not realizing your mistake earlier than when drinking the disgusting beverage. That only sunk your mood lower, feeling like a lonely rowboat in the middle of a thunderstorm ocean. Not even the blueberry muffin could pick up your sore mood. You rather went to class earlier than needed, not wanting to risk any more troubles. That proved to be quite of use when you almost crashed into a pillar, obviously not paying enough attention to where you’re going.

Students started to pour in just like the rain outside the window until the bell rang and you made sure everyone was here on time. You looked around your table, looking for your prepared materials for this lesson but finding none. You must have done the preparation, where did it go? You wouldn’t forget about such a thing…

“Ma’am, what about the test?” one of your students reminded you.

“A… test?” you asked confused until the realization downed on you. “Oh, the test! Well, I thought maybe we'll go over the study material for the test once more today and we’ll take the test next class.”

You tried to save the situation, which was celebrated by some, booed by others. You could tell who was happy to have more time to study and who wanted to be done with it already. How could you forget such a thing? You never forgot what you planned to do next time in class, let alone when you planed a quiz! You had to improvise the whole lesson and the ring announcing end of class was probably more freeing to you than it was to your students.

By the time of dinner you had changed your dress since you spilled your lunchtime cup of tea on yourself, two broken nails from trying to open some jars which normally wasn’t any problem for you and a scraped knee due your fall over the rocks in the garden. It was safe to say your day was completely ruined and you were ready to just lay in bed hidden under the blankets waiting for it to pass.

“Can’t I have just one day in a year to be perfect? Just one…” you whined to no one in particular, hoping to sleep the rest of the day away.

Your intentions were interrupted with a knock on your door. Why would anyone come to visit you this late? Can’t the universe just leave you alone already? Giving up on your hopes for a peaceful night, you got up and open the door, not expecting Lady Lesso to stand behind it. But there she was, graceful as always with her long coat and shiny cane. Sometimes you wondered if she was a daughter of a fairy of some sort.

“Can I help you?” you asked concerned, if she was here, it couldn’t be anything good right? Your day was already full of unfortunate events.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t been your usual annoyingly cheerful self today.” Her voice was completely blank as was her face. “And even tho I usually enjoy a piece of quiet, it was weirdly disturbing.”

“Uh… thank you..?” you didn’t know why she’s telling you this. “Did you come all the way here just to tell me you… didn’t like my unhappy mood?”

“Not entirely. I also came to give you this. Guessed it might help to cheer you up today.” She thrusted a small package into your hand turning on her heel. “Good night Y/n.” before you could say anything she already left.

With an inept shake of your head you got back inside your room, inspecting the parcel she gave you. It was packaged in a festive paper neatly tucked around. For a moment you contemplated if it was some type of prank. Will a bomb of glitter go of the moment you tore into the present? No, you were very certain Lesso was not one for glitter. Maybe a pocketknife will jump out and pierce your heart… But would she go all the way here just to slaughter you? You didn’t have any beef with her lately, did you?

With a shrug of your shoulders you opened the gift, a little note falling out on the ground. You picked it up, opening the piece of fancy paper. Happy birthday Y/n. That was all the note said, yet the three words warmed your heart up. She remembered your birthday. And she even gave you a gift. And not just some gift, but a rare edition of your favorite story book in your native language you have never seen before. You hugged the book to your chest, a genuine smile making it’s way to your face for the first time today. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad birthday after all.

[nathanxcha]

just a tiny update today // #4

Life’s been living and health’s most certainly not been healing. So here’s just a tiny update in the hopes that I will find more time and ease to properly hop on here.

The image is from a few weeks back when we went on a little trip to the city (it’s a 1.5 hr commute each time), to visit the DIY store and get some things for crafting. They sampled a button closure machine on a piece of felt and not only did that make me want to get one of these machines on my own, but it also made me think that this was the greatest fidget toy of all times. Pleasant tactile exploration.

Still trying to figure out the temporality of this blog, being quite behind on my reports (so much happens all the time) - let’s see if we can keep it stringent (maybe not).

The DIY shop was very cute and full of exciting products - price ranging from cheap-ish (locally produced) to more European prices (for wares made in Japan). Had my eyes set firmly on some crochet and knitting needles made from bamboo, but as I already have a bunch of steel ones, I ended up saving my purse the trouble. Bought a bunch of zippers though, as I had the idea of experimenting with bag patterns. Still waiting on the best fabric for this though.

I did happen upon a millinery equipment piece, however, which I ended up adding to my personal collection and am very happy about. Not having an ironing board here, I was able to use it as such (it has the shape of a tiny hat top on a stand and is very pretty, plus reasonably priced).

I’ve been dreaming of making my tiny shop a full time thing, as it’s the one thing I can comfortably focus all my energy on and be delighted to keep exploring and researching. But as it is, life is infinitely more complex and hard. Entangled in already some classes and upcoming projects, I will continue taking it step by step and seeing where it all takes me. Manifesting the hope of keeping calm and trusting in life (as I am not used to do). Because if there is one thing, I truly crave it’s this : ease in my steps and lightness in my heart. Let’s see how we get there.

[lampmanliveblogs]

Here we can see side by side a bad parental figure and a good parental figure. Can you tell which is which? Can you spot some key differences? What qualities exhibited in these specimen makes them good or bad parents? Please motivate your answer.

Eda and Alador know each other. Which… yeah, that makes some sense, Alador & Odalia were in the stands watching the Emperor’s Coven tryouts when Eda first turned into the Owlbeast, so they probably attended some of the same classes at Hexside.

Stealing your coworkers lunches? Really? THAT’S what got you demoted? Not the fact that there was a prison break that happened right under your… well, you don’t have a nose, but uh… oh, and you got beat up by a fourteen year old. Twice. And the first time she didn’t have any magic.

Wait, didn’t I joke about Wrath being demoted in Through the Looking Glass Ruins? Or maybe I joked about him being fired… I’m still gonna say ”Called it!”

Regardless, he should still have some of that spicy insider information I’ve been craving for so long. Come on big boy, give us something good.

Wrath voices the same suspicion I have. That being, the new world Belos wishes to create isn’t going to benefit those with magic. Something that’s interesting is that Wrath says the Day of Unity will ”unite [them] with the Titan.” Which is not how we’ve heard Belos describe it before. In Follies at the Coven Day Parade, he simply described it as purging wild magic from the Demon Realm. In Hunting Palismen, he said that the Human Realm and Demon Realm would become one. Either way, this is supposed to cleanse wild magic.

We know that Philip was not very fond of witches and he was already working on the Day of Unity back in the 1600s. So my current theory is that whatever it he’s actually trying to do, it won’t benefit witches or demons, but will benefit humans. Maybe he wants to give humans the power of magic—or just get rid of all magic outright.

Whatever it is he’s trying to do, I doubt it’s going to be good for anyone. The idea of giving humans magic in particular is very frightening.  Because sure, there are humans like Luz, who are kind and generous. But then there are also human like Philip. Actually… hold on, I have a perfect example…

”It will start small. Magic will slowly spread around the world. Unmagical places will become magical. And then the magic levels will begin to rise. A magic flood to cover the entire world. Natural witches will awaken, more than ever before. Do you think they will sit by kindly and wait for permission to use their new powers?”

”You’re lying,” says Linnéa.

”No,” says Minoo. ”And it won’t end there. Magic levels will continue to rise. It will become easier and easier to learn magic. When the levels finally stabilizes, you will have a world where anyone can learn magic.”

She takes a few steps towards them.

”The world will fall into chaos. All politic, economic, and religious systems will fall apart. Magic will equal power. And those who have it will rule over the others. And from a smaller perspective… can you imagine someone like Erik Forslund with magic powers?”

(from The Key, the third book in the Engelsfors Trilogy. The Protectors, through Minoo, try to convince the Chosen Ones to let them take over the world. Erik Forslund was a bully and antagonist throughout the books who at one point tried to murder Linnéa. Translation by me, the official translation may differ)

Eda really be out here collecting new kids like Pokemon, huh?

Hey, we got Alador’s reaction to finding out Amity & Luz are dating!

I’m not sure why I was expecting more, this seems perfectly on-brand.

I would do another Engelsfors quote, the scene where Vanessa tells her mom she and Linnéa are dating… but I’m saving that for a potential moment where Luz tells Camila about Amity. I have this whole thing planned out, trust me, it’s going to be funny,

[lovesosweeet]

MAY THE BEST MAN WIN

competing for the best toast at their best friends' wedding, calum and tanner go from being pretend rivals to… something like friends. maybe a little more? may the best man win.

read on ao3

part ten

Alcohol has been flowing all day, but the dinner has servers coming and replacing every empty bottle and refilling every glass, so Tanner and the other bridesmaids at the table are giggling and rehashing details of Valerie’s dating escapades from her earlier twenties. The 5SOS guys are all appalled at the stories.

“She just left?!” Luke practically screeches.

Tanner and Elle and Elle’s boyfriend all share a look while they snort and nod. 

“Yeah, she just stood up and turned around and walked out,” Elle clarifies.

“What, so he just had to pay for all the caviar and the champagne?!”

“Hey! He ordered it!” Elle’s boyfriend says, defending the bride and one of his closest friends. 

“Yeah, but—” Luke starts, but Sierra shoots him a glare. 

“He literally told her he had her measurements memorized on their first date, Luke, what do you expect? And he was an absolute dick about it, flaunting his fucking trust fund,” Tanner grumbles out. Her drunkenness is obvious as her words sort of blur together. She’s not long gone, just very clearly tipsy. 

“And then you have Ashton, who took her to a private yoga class on their first date,” Calum says. He’s giggling like a schoolgirl with pink cheeks and a subconscious tendency to keep leaning towards Tanner.

“He was trying really hard to impress. Comically.” Michael shakes his head while he speaks.

“He didn’t need to impress,” Tanner says. Her grin is almost ear to ear. “And guess who got them to talk to each other? Me!”

Calum narrows his eyes at her. “You really think they wouldn’t have eventually slid into each others’ DMs?”

Tanner scoffs. “You think that Valerie Summers checks her DMs?”

That stunts Calum’s thoughts and he has no idea how to answer. He doesn’t check his DMs, and he can only imagine that the thirsty people in Valerie’s would be just as bad, if not worse than, the ones in his. 

The classical music composition that’d been playing throughout dinner gets quieter suddenly, which Tanner wouldn’t have noticed if not for almost everyone at the table turning their attention to the center of the future dance floor, where Mr. Summers is standing with Ashton’s mom. 

“Good evening, everyone,” Ed speaks into his microphone, catching everyone’s attention.

Calum’s elbow digs into Tanner’s arm. It’s time.

“Anne-Marie and I, and of course, my Eleanor,” Mr. Summers says and waves to his wife across the room, “would like to say a gracious thank you to everyone for being a part of this very special day. Everyone here has played a pivotal role in either Valerie or Ashton’s lives, or, more likely, in both.”

He hands the microphone to Ashton’s mom.

“We know we’d probably embarrass them if we spoke more, so instead, we’ve written Ashton and Valerie letters that we’ll give them at the end of the night.”

The crowd laughs at that, and Tanner looks over at the sweetheart table where she sees Valerie let out a sigh of relief that her father isn’t about to speak about Valerie as a child in front of everyone. 

“But, not everyone will do them the same courtesy!” Anne-Marie says, laughing.

Ed takes the microphone back. “The show is about to begin,” he jokes. “We have a few musical performances lined up, but we’ll save those for later, when everyone is on the dance floor. Before we do that, though, the best man and maid of honor have some toasts to give! Everyone, please give your eyes and ears to the very funny, very talented best man, Calum!” 

Calum’s cheeks are flaming hot red as he stands from his chair and strides over to replace Ed and Anne Marie on the center of the floor. 

“Hello, everyone,” Calum speaks, his voice wavering and his hands shaking. “It’s kind of crazy. I can speak to an arena of people I’ve never met before in my life like it’s my job. Well, because it is.

“The second you put me in front of a room full of people who actually matter, and you don’t want me to sing, or play bass, or make jokes… it’s like I’ve lost any sense of stage presence, so I apologize for any bit of, uh, stage fright, I guess, that comes through.

“You know, it’s kind of rude, to be honest, that this is Ashton’s first wedding. I mean, Valerie is great and all — love you, Val — but, this wedding is actually well over a decade after Ashton’s first proposal. And by that, I mean, my proposal. 

“For those of you who haven’t spent hours wading through 5SOS lore on the internet, after our first performance as a band, all the way back in 2011 in Sydney, I got down on a knee in front of Ashton and proposed. I didn’t propose marriage, although, maybe I should have. No, I asked him to join our silly little band that desperately needed our fourth and final piece.

“Ashton, asking you to join our band is the best decision I have ever made. You are my best friend, my brother, my soulmate, and genuinely my favorite human on this planet. I suppose that I can share you with Valerie, your other soulmate and the woman that you have dreamt of for all the years I have known you and longer.

“I’ve felt lucky to witness you find her light in this lifetime, like I can only imagine that you have in so many others. 

“We wrote a lyric a long time ago. Maybe some of you know it. It’s a bit of a deep cut. The line is, ‘nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same.’ A few years ago, Ashton met another musician in LA. His name is Josiah, and, honestly, I think I like his take on forever a bit more than our angsty teenaged version.

“The line is, ‘nothing lasts forever, ‘cept maybe you and I.’ Well, I’d say that perfectly describes my friendship with Ashton.”

The entire hall of people erupts into laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah, we all get it, I’m joking. Ash and Val, while none of us can predict the future, there is no doubt in my mind that you two are a forever, once in a lifetime kind of thing. Your love is one that I know we will write albums upon albums about, and I can only hope to find someone who shows me the same care that you two so evidently hold for each other.

“I’ve been honored to share a stage with you for this long, Ashton, and I want to say my sincerest thanks to the two of you for the absolute privilege of standing beside you both as you vowed your lives to each other.

“I love you both, and I can’t wait to watch you become the hottest elderly couple on the red carpet in 50 years. Everyone, please join me in raising a glass to the Irwin-Summers!” 

Everyone raises their glasses and hits their glasses against the others nearby while they say a collective ‘woo.’ Calum is grateful that he’s done speaking, and he looks over to the bride and groom who both are looking at him with eyes that are clearly full of love. Val blows him a kiss and Ashton gives him a thumbs up that signals ‘we’ll talk later’ and then Calum hands the microphone back to Mr. Summers.

When he gets back to the table, he pulls Tanner’s chair out for her, making her give him a slight sassy side eye. She doesn’t say it, but she cried while he gave his speech. While her art has always been so visual, she’s always had a strong appreciation for words. Although she’d won gold keys in high school, she hasn’t written outside a journal in years, so she’s not sure how well her speech is actually going to go.

Despite the nerves, she’s just excited to get to talk about Valerie and Ashton, two people that she loves dearly.

“Okay, Calum, that was sweet, but, I fear you may be upstaged. My second daughter, Tanner, is here to give the second toast. Enjoy!”

“Good evening, everyone,” Tanner starts. She’s smiling widely and holding her half empty glass of wine. Her feet are now cocooned in a comfy pair of Nike sneakers, like all of the bridesmaids, which has her dress pooling at her feet without the extra height from her heels. Her hair is now tied back in a loose ponytail, ready for dancing the night away. 

“I know I don’t know all of you, and that’s my fault. If we haven’t met, my name is Tanner, and I have been lucky enough to be best friends with Valerie since we were kids. I don’t tend to be in the same place for more than a few weeks at the time, and that very rarely coincides with Valerie and Ashton’s calendars, so unfortunately, I don’t get to see either of my favorite people very often.

“Valerie, a lifetime with you will never be long enough. I know it, everyone who loves you knows it, and the man that you chose as your husband knows it better than anyone — except for me, obviously.

“When we started kindergarten, we were together. When my father died, we were together. When we started middle school and high school, we were together. When I got my heart broken at the homecoming dance in tenth grade, we were together. 

“These years and years that we have been together have been a time of metamorphic transformation. I have watched you turn into the truest version of yourself, but even when I thought you had reached your highest, you always surprise me, but, truthfully, I couldn’t have ever imagined the amount of light, love, and beauty that you would gain when you fell in love with Ashton.

“What I’ve loved most about watching the two of you fall — head over heels, hard and fast — has been that you have lived every moment with pure intention and adoration and respect for each other. I’ve never seen a love so special, but it’s only fitting that it comes from two of the most kind, creative souls on this earth.

“I don’t need to say it, because I know that you will, but just so it’s on the record: Ashton, please take care of my Val. You’ve got the light of my life in your hands, and I only want to see it get brighter from here.

“Thank you all for listening to my love letter to Val, and a little bit to Ash. I can’t even begin to put to words the joy that this union brings me, so instead, I will leave you with some words that have been around for centuries that I believe that Ashton and Valerie live out every moment of every day. Homer wrote them.

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

Tanner smiles at Valerie from across the room, and for the first time today, and possibly the first time in years, Mrs. Irwin-Summers is crying. 

“To Val and Ash!” Tanner raises her wine with the rest of the room, and then downs the remnants before she hands off the mic and walks back to her seat. 

Music starts playing as she sits down again, with her entree unfinished, she’d planned on eating a few more bites while the dance floor got warmed up. The whole table is grinning at her as she sits, but she doesn’t really notice it. All she notices is a really weird, nervous look on Calum’s face. She doesn’t say anything to him, though.

“I’m sorry, did you make Valerie cry?” Michael asks with disbelief, but he’s laughing.

“Oh, god, yeah, Tanner is the only one who can do that. You should’ve seen how much of a wreck Val was when Tanner said she was leaving New York,” Sarah explains, which earns her a glare from Tanner.

“No, it wasn’t because I was leaving New York, it was because I wasn’t moving with you guys to LA,” she clarifies.

“Oh, and you can’t forget,” Elle continues while giving some kind of weird look to Sarah that the two of them both understand, but no one else does.

“JAMIE!” They yell in unison.

Tanner groans, ducking her head down to rest in her arms on the table. Talking about her ex, outside of her conversation with Calum earlier, was no on her agenda for the evening. 

The band and their wives look at Tanner, Sarah, Elle, and their partners with huge question marks on their faces. Tanner clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, her face still buried in her arms, while the others try to figure out who’s going to explain.

“Guys, is this really your story to share?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks.

The girls are too drunk to have a filter, so his question goes unnoticed. 

“Looks like it’s not a story Tanner is interested in either,” Calum says, but again, the girls don’t care. 

“Tanner was dating this absolute asshat,” Sarah starts, cutting herself off with laughter.

“Yeah, and then, he just randomly broke up with her one morning. Tanner was losing it in the living room, upset over the breakup, but poor Val had to step out because she couldn’t bear to watch her cry. I went into her room a few hours later to see what was up after Tanner calmed down and Valerie was just sobbing in the corner,” Elle says. 

“‘How could he do this to her?!’ Valerie kept asking, crying.”

“Ugh, it was so sweet. Sad, but sweet,” Elle finishes, and she and Sarah are smiling.

“Can we please not talk about this?” Tanner groans. She’s still hiding from everyone. 

“I’m just saying, it’s a miracle that Valerie has ever cried over anything. She’s got such an intense poker face. Speaks to how much she loves you, Tanner,” Luke says.

At that, the group seems to drop the discussion there, so Tanner lifts her head. She sighs, grabbing her glass. 

“I’m going to go get a refill,” she says, abandoning her entree and just planning to eat lots of cake later instead. She doesn’t look back while she walks to the bar, but Calum is only a few steps behind her, trying to keep up with her pace after she’d suddenly gotten up.

When she gets to the bar, she holds up her glass, and the bartender has already memorized what she gets each time and grabs a bottle of bubbly for her.

“I’ll do another as well,” Calum says from beside her, startling her slightly, but she’s relieved to see that it’s not someone who’s going to talk to her more about her ex or the fact that she can make Valerie cry. He puts his empty bottle of beer on the bartop and fishes around in his jacket pocket.

“Are you stalking me?” Tanner asks, repeating the question she had asked him on the night they’d met.

He laughs, his eyes crinkling on the sides as the memory comes flooding back for him, too. “No, I’m just here to settle my account.”

Her left eyebrow raises in question. “Your account?”

Calum turns pink. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right wording. I’m here to settle our bet. How’s that?”

Tanner just tilts her head, unsure of whether he thinks she won or he did, even though she stopped caring about the ‘competition’ long ago. 

The best man pulls a crisply folded dollar bill from the pocket inside his jacket and slides it across the bar in her direction.

“You win,” Calum says. 

A victory smile paints her lips, but she can’t help but laugh as she grabs the dollar bill to inspect it and confirms that it’s not Monopoly money.

“Check your Venmo notifications, Allen.”

Then he’s confused. He awkwardly pats his pockets down to find his phone, and when he does, he opens the Venmo app like instructed.

Received from Tanner Thorne 27 minutes ago $1.00 “The best man wins.”

“Tanner, this is from before we even gave the toasts,” Calum points out.

She gives him a sheepish smile. “I knew yours would be better.”

He scrunches his eyebrows together. “Mine wasn’t better.”

“Yes it was!”

“No, it was not. Yours made Valerie cry! And Sarah and Elle! And Luke, for christssake!”

“Luke cried?”

“Yes!”

And then Tanner is giggling incessantly, which makes Calum start laughing too.

“Well, I think yours was better, but I’ll take this dollar and we’ll both zero out. How’s that?” She peers up at him with her big blue eyes, and somehow, for some reason, she steps closer to him.

“Hmm. No, I don’t think that’s fair,” he says. He looks down at her with twinkly eyes and a hint of a smirk. 

“It’s not?”

“I mean, my ego is pretty bruised since you wrote a better speech than me,” Calum mumbles with an obvious air of sarcasm.

Tanner laughs. “Is it?”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

Unable to keep a straight face, Tanner keeps laughing. “What’s fair then?”

“Can you, uh,” he starts, but the words he wants to say get caught in his throat. All the confidence he had in starting his bit is now gone into thin air and he feels a bit breathless. His nerves from before come rushing back and his heart starts to pound. 

Tanner rolls her eyes. “You want me to kiss it better?”

Calum’s face turns bright red, and all he can do is nod.

That’s all it takes for the short blonde girl to weave her hand into the hair at the base of his neck and pull his face closer to her while she rises onto her tip toes. His lips meet hers halfway, while his hands find her waist and bring her as close to him as he can, something he’s been dying to do all day… and even longer.

“HA! Luke! You so owe me fifty bucks!”

Michael’s voice acts as an instant spacer, pushing Calum and Tanner away from each other even though he hasn’t even made it into a five foot radius of the two of them.

“I thought you guys weren’t flirting?” Michael teases.

Tanner shoots him a cold glare. She grabs her newly refilled glass and takes Calum’s hand in hers, dragging him straight for the dance floor. Calum is floating in his mind, holding her small hand in his while he carries his fresh beer in the other, unable to wipe the childlike smile from his face.

“Dance with me, Allen?” Tanner asks when they reach the middle of the floor. She spins around to face him, steps close enough that she can smell his cologne again, and looks up at the man who’s still blushing from being too flustered to make his move. 

“I’ve been waiting all day for this, Danny.”

Before Tanner can pull out her signature dance move of the macarena, Calum bends down and plants his lips on hers again. The electricity in the air, the time spent wishing he could be closer to Tanner but not knowing how to, the way she looks so ethereal tonight, and the alcohol pumping through their veins make him want to take hold of her and never let her go.

And that’s exactly what he intends to do.

[the-planet-ceres]

star student

The second I get home, I collapse into bed, wanting to take a nap but knowing I shouldn’t. I’ve already been slacking off enough; not surprisingly, consistently refusing to do your homework means that you’re going to fail. And nothing ruins your day like your AirPods running out of battery thirty minutes into class so you can’t not pay attention.

Speaking of—thinking of, I guess—I need to charge those.

As I stand and my stomach demands a snack, I slip into the kitchen on ghost feet (do ghosts have feet?), barely glancing at my brother as we brush shoulders. Jack doesn’t flinch at the contact, and when he leaves, I hear the unrestrained thumps of his steps and the snaps as he cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t shrink at his family’s gazes; he’s not the one born with a broken brain that can’t pay attention to anything for more than two seconds. He’s not the one who pretends to be unruly and bratty instead of burnt out with a side of occasional hallucinations.

Of course, nobody cares about that, because nobody knows about that. Besides, the voices in my head are probably just caused by exhaustion anyway; once I slept for three days straight and didn’t hear anything for a week after.

By the time I successfully guess the password to my dad’s computer—which is somehow harder than actually hacking the grading website to make it seem like I don’t have a column of donuts—the Rubik’s cube on the desk has made me shuffle it three different times. As I’m reaching to scramble the little squares again, I hear someone coming. Crap. Guess I’m not postponing the inevitable this time.

Shutting the computer, I dart out and head upstairs at what I hope is a normal pace.

Go back, a tiny voice tells me.

Shut up. I should’ve had more coffee today. I don’t need this right now.

Go back. Show them your computer skills. Redeem yourself.

Since when are you so eloquent?

It goes quiet, replaced by creepy funhouse music that makes me think of black carpet stitched with neon planets.

Determined to at least accomplish something today, I turn on my laptop in search of answers to a math worksheet that has more letters than numbers. The first thing to open is a search reading “cna i sumon a dmeon to raies my graeds,” a remnant of my typical three-in-the-morning frantic races to vomit every single thought in my brain into either Twitter or Google.

I click on a new tab and start copying a problem into the search bar, but I don’t get very far. The funhouse music has faded; now there’s a terrifying chant of Look at it. Look at it. Look at it.

Not going to not going to not going to, I force myself to think. Then: God, I need medicine for this. Maybe I should look that up instead of trying to figure out how big some imaginary circle is.

Of course, because the other entities living in my brain are more powerful than my self-restraint, I end up clicking the Did you mean? on the tab with the demon search and clicking on the first thing that pops up.

It’s some ad for a church asking if I need the light of Jesus.

A bit too late for that if you ask me.

I go back and find something giving instructions on how to make a pentagram out of string, and then it’s one in the morning and I haven’t moved except to sit at dinner and lie through my teeth about starting an online tutoring program. A week ago, I said I would, but then I got distracted by something or other and completely forgot. I’ve written reminders for myself in three different places in the past three seconds, but knowing me, I’ll forget in another two.

Pushing a towel against my door so less light will escape, I manage to set up a ring of candles without setting my carpet on fire. In the middle is some red yarn shaped into a lopsided star; I have zero artistic talent and can’t use a ruler to save my life.

This is ridiculous. If it weren’t for the fact that Jack is probably asleep already, I’d be laughing out loud right now. Of all the things that could be wasting my time right now, I have to pick this one. Well, not me, actually, but another of those voices, commanding me to do it in a tone so harsh my skin is covered in goosebumps.

I pick up a sheet I scrawled a bunch of unintelligible demon chants onto and hold it to a candle, but before I can start reading, all of the tiny flames go out and the temperature in the room drops a solid thirty-ish degrees.

Cursing under my breath, I scrabble for my lighter so I’ll be able to see the way to my bed—my patience for this ran out almost before I started, and I have to be awake in five hours anyway to make it to school on time. As if I actually do anything when I’m there.

Five flicks until the lighter works, and then the dot of fire whooshes out of existence again.

Huh. That’s weird. Shrugging, I stumble over the pile of books that I dumped out to look for a pencil and wave my limbs around like a confused zombie until I trip over the edge of my bed.

When I fall onto the covers, something warm and disturbingly like skin shifts away, and then what feels like a hand is being clapped over my mouth.

“Mmf!” I try to bite at the palm pressing into my lips, but its owner pushes my head back until I’m lying down. When I kick haphazardly, all my legs find is air; my arms flail and smack into something as hard as bone.

“Quiet,” hisses a raspy voice. It’s a bit like one of the ones that I hallucinate sometimes, with the same tone of authority that makes me obey its every command. “I do not want to be discovered. Where is light?”

The hand lifts, and I manage to let out a yelp before it slams back down.

“Scream and I will end you. Where is light?”

This time, I’m too paralyzed by terror to try yelling. “I can turn on the closet light. If we block the door, no one will see from outside.” Yes, being in a smaller space with whatever criminal has somehow made it into my room is a terrible idea, but I don’t want to risk my family coming and getting hurt too.

“Then come. Turn on . . . the closet light.”

The presence shifts to let me stand; as I get to my shaky feet, I grope for the lighter, but it’s gone.

“Over here,” I call softly as I lift the door so it won’t creak. “Go inside.”

A cold breeze washes over me as the intruder enters, making me shiver both from cold and fear. I take a deep breath, worrying that my stupidity might make it my last, then follow, kick a shirt against the door as I close it, and flick the light switch.

And freeze.

At least I have the sense not to scream.

The . . . thing . . . in front of me flashes his needle-sharp teeth, licking his lips with a pair of forked tongues. After a second, he notices my hand scrabbling for the doorknob behind me and his smile—if it can even be called that—morphs into a snarl that makes my legs turn to jelly. I drop my arm and try not to pay attention to the claws on his fingers, the feathery wings sucking all of the light into their blackness, the twisted black horns that could spear me in an instant.

He scratches at the shaggy brown hair they’re jutting out of, and out tumble what look like very tiny bones.

I can feel my face turning green.

“I think it is typical to look a stranger in the eyes when being introduced,” the demon rasps. But even though the intensity of his words makes me fear for my life, I can’t peel my eyes from the scabbed lines running over every exposed inch of his skin or the very threatening knife at his waist.

He could have slit my throat, and nobody would’ve known until morning.

“Girl?”

“Bree,” I mumble. “It’s Bree.” Grandma’s name or not, I refuse to go by Breeshey.

“Bree,” he echoes, pronouncing it more like Blee. “What is it the angels say? Fear not? Or have no fear?”

Enough time passes for it to be obvious that he wants a response, so I shrug and admit, “I don’t know.”

“Ah. Well, it is no matter. Look in my eyes.”

I shut my own, then force them to open and drift upwards past his horrifying mouth. To my surprise, the view isn’t that bad; pupils surrounded by two soft orange rings watch me with something bordering on curiosity. He smiles again, and their corners crinkle.

See? Not that bad.

Actually, scratch that—embedded in his cheeks just below the regular eyes is a pair of smaller blue ones. As I stare at them, they dilate, then twitch and shut.

“What . . . are you?” I ask, my words a shield that keeps him from taking a second step towards me.

“A demon, of course. What kind is unimportant.” His wings close a little as he shifts his balance and knocks a row of hangers off their rack. After a beat, he continues, “My name is,” then lets out a weird gargling noise.

I blink. “What?”

Sighing, he whips out a notepad and pen from who-knows-where and writes Aszksxymysthz. “That is the closest approximation in your tongue. But humans cannot make these sounds, so you may call me . . . Ash.”

“Ash,” I repeat. “So, uh . . . What are you doing here, Ash? Not here to murder me and string up my guts like Christmas decorations, I hope?”

Yeah, let’s give the literal demon ideas, a voice snaps in my brain.

“No. You summoned me for improved academic performance, so that is what I am here to provide.”

As he gets closer and lifts a hand to my face, I sidestep and frown. “So . . . you’re just going to help me? Because I wanted to?” That sounds like something a genie would do, not . . . you.

Ash tilts his head, showing pointy ears as his hair moves, and nods. “Partially, yes.”

Ah, there it is. “What’s the catch?”

“A small thing. Every night at midnight, you must pluck one feather from my wings.”

“Huh? Why? Wouldn’t that hurt you?” Why does it matter?

“I have greater motivations than self-preservation.”

My arms cross of their own volition. “And those are?”

“Unrelated to and thus irrelevant to you. Now, what is there to be done?”

“What do you mean, irrelevant? How do I know you’re not lying?”

His tiny blue eyes open wide, and he repeats more forcefully, “What is there to be done?”

My mouth goes dry, and I’m about to put more distance between us when I realize my back is against the wall. “Well, right now, sleeping. Then school in a few hours. Wait—how are you going to get in? I can’t just walk up with a random demon next to me.”

For a heart-stopping moment, Ash just watches me, and then he’s gone.

“Ash? Wh—”

“Like this,” his voice interrupts. Except—it’s coming out of my mouth. “Your mind is pliable, so I can enter and exit as I wish. Although there do seem to be quite a few vermin here.”

“Vermin?”

“Do you hear things in your head, perhaps?”

Oh. “Um . . . yeah.”

“I can remove them if you would like.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

Then he’s in front of me again, and the permanent undercurrent of whispering in my mind dies.

“Whoa,” I breathe. “Sick.” I’m free.

I’m free.

Ash smiles again, and this time, I don’t shrink from him. “Go sleep. I will find a way to occupy myself.”

As I reach for the knob, I suggest, “Maybe you could start by picking up all those shirts you threw on the floor.”

He grazes me with his wing, and I tense until I hear the lightness in his reply. “I will consider it.”

 ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 Midterms come around a few months later, and Ash passes me with flying colors. My teachers praise my sudden diligence as I not only finish things early, but get perfect scores. I no longer get angry at myself because I no longer lose focus every ten seconds. My friends seem more relaxed around me now that I’m not constantly asking for their help cheating (which I stopped doing a while ago anyway, when I stopped caring). Mom and Dad start treating me like the faultless second child again, hoping enough rewards will keep this from ending. Only Jack resents this change; he throws himself into his schoolwork even harder, brushing me off when I tell him he’s too smart to be wasting his time studying material he memorized the day it was given.

It stings a little, that me “bettering myself” has put up a wall between us, but I don’t think about it too much.

He’ll come around. He’ll see the good in this.

Even if, like everybody else, he has no idea how it’s happening.

Even if I’ve probably sold my soul or something without even knowing.

 ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

 The morning after a shockingly successful school year ends, I wake up with a weird feeling in my stomach, like it’s being torn open from inside. Great. What a way to start the summer.

But when I stand up and sag under the weight of a back screaming with pain, complaints about food poisoning drain out of my mind.

“Ash? Are you in there?” I whisper. After Mom almost caught him, we agreed that he should possess me while I sleep; sometimes I end up with random aches, but never this bad.

Nobody answers.

“Ash?”

Still no one.

Under the bed, the box where I hide his feathers is empty.

Huh. I guess it makes sense, since I don’t have classes in summer, but a little warning would’ve been nice. I’ve become strangely attached to the demon.

Stretching with a slight wince, I go to the bathroom to shower the last bit of sleepiness away but stop short when I see my reflection.

The pale green of my eyes has darkened to orange, and beneath them is another, smaller pair with light blue irises. Sharp black horns spiral out of my head, and massive wings the same color have sprouted from my back. I bare my teeth; they’re thin and pointy, barely fitting in my mouth.

As I watch in horror, a bright red line runs down my forearm.

I’m about to shriek when the walls melt, giving way to an endless field of fire and hazy smoke set against a crimson sky.

“Ash?” I call again, more frantic. This has to have something to do with him. “What is this place?”

“Your Aszksxymysthz no longer resides here,” a bodiless voice booms. “I have dismissed him.”

“You . . .” Who are you? What are you?

“He mentioned that his motives did not relate to you. But I controlled them, and I have taken an interest in you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I get a glimpse of a vague black shape that I can’t categorize as any horror I’ve ever seen before.

My hands curl into fists. How could I have been so stupid? I should’ve known not to trust a literal demon. “Meaning?”

That horrifying silhouette comes back into my field of vision and states, “That now he is free, and you are as he was.”

Suddenly my skin burns with agony, and I scream so loud the heat of the air singes my throat until I can’t take it anymore and my brain cuts off my consciousness.

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

later | m. izuku 

➳ tags ;; fluff, confessions, deku is smooth, kissing, fluff, fem!reader implied i think 

➳ wc ;; 2.4k (wtf) 

➳ a/n ;; brainrot...... 

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya listens to you when you tell him to confess to you again later. he’s waited his whole life for you but he doesn’t know how much longer he can

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks to himself often that it has to be you he’s been chasing all this time. 

This isn’t so much a revelation to him. It’s nothing like eureka moment, an aha that he uncovers after years of reflection. After all, he’s not the type to know what he really wants. 

Which is funny for many reasons but mostly because he’s a hero. He did want that, still does - but it wasn’t really an active choice. It wasn’t the desire to become a hero in terms of glamour and fame but a deep-seated knowing about the fact he had to become one. That the desire to save people above all else was rooted and deeply ingrained in him that there would never be anything that would fulfill him quite the same way. 

He finds it more often than not he’s acting out of pure instinct. Something carnal and perhaps other-worldly that pins him to the world in an almost divine way. All or nothing, there’s one way to approach existence and it’s with this unwavering desire to be kind. 

He’s always been that kind of person.

But, if he sat down and thought about it, the desire to be with you is perhaps one of his own. It’s one of the only things he’d chase to the ends of the earth. 

Izuku Midoriya has loved you since he was 14

The first time he ever confessed to you was when he was 15, about half way into his first year at U.A. It was outside of your apartment - your childhood home. He’d walk you there after his classes, when he caught you returning from your own. It was an awkward and clumsy teenage confession even then but he can remember the details clearly. 

It comes to him a series of images. Orange-yellow light that fell over your face, hairs sticking a little your head, trembling hands, ricocheting heartbeats, the sound of cars passing. He wasn’t very confident then, it makes him laugh thinking back at. But he told you anyways, bursting at the seams with his feelings. 

“I like you!” 

Your first reaction was shock immediately followed with a somber smile. Though he told you he had liked you, it was in the brief moment afterwards that he though there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t call it a rejection, but a wake-up call. You leaned in to kiss his cheek before whispering something back. 

“If you mean it,” ― you whisper, hand on his shoulder and eyes heavy ― “Tell me again later,” 

With that, you turned on your heel and went home. He wasn’t sure how to feel for a while, because it’s not like you said no. And you kissed him so that had to mean something.

Rather predictably after that, he became so caught up in hero work, it was only natural that you two grew distant. Once frequent conversations became words in passing, spoken quietly to each other. He went off to become a great hero, and you went off to study what you love. 

It was a natural occurrence - he knows this now. He wonders what kind of thinking you had to have been doing to know that at 15. The older he got, the more he thought about what you said. How the once vague mention of “later” became a narrow time-frame. Not a moment too soon and not a second too later. 

Izuku Midoriya has loved you all of 8 years. For most of them, it’s been a passive yearning. The emptiness of his bedframe and his disinterest. 8 years and he’s tried and failed to love other people. Maybe he was testing if later would ever come. 

He’s 22 and he thinks to himself that he’s been chasing the feeling of loving you this whole time. That adrenaline from when you kissed his cheek all those years ago, he wonders to himself if it’s still there

He’ll have to go find out

_ 

After a night-out, you are unfortunately sober on the walk home. Work dinners should have a general policy for how much someone can drink, you think. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to shovel your boss into a taxi and remain regrettably conscious through a series of uncomfortable or agitating questions. 

It wasn’t like he was invasive but he was.. annoying? And the fact you couldn’t sit through it by downing half a bottle of wine was a real shame . You’re so stone cold sober that your body shivers in the night air. Heels clacking against the pavement, eyes heavy and exhausted. You could endure it, you were finally going home after all. 

You’d take a warm bath and hit the hay. Your body yearned for your bed and you don’t blame it. You sigh to yourself, hands in coat pockets. 

“Just a little bit more,” ― you sigh, yawning and wiping your eyes ― “A little more and I’ll be...home?” 

You were home, the front door to your building. There was an ominous looking figure sitting on the front steps. Your first reaction was to reach into your pockets and grab your keys between your knuckles. Your heart stuttered as you broached slowly. It was too dark to see clearly but maybe he was nice. 

“Uhm.. excuse me, sir” 

When he turns his head - your first reaction is to flinch. You step back as he turns his head only to grow stiff. A pair of warm green eyes and head of forest green locks await seems to be staring back at you. He gives you a warm smile - standing on his feet. 

In a way, he’s unrecognizable to you. Though you see him all the time, Pro-Hero Deku making news, the image of him in your head is permanently small and frail. In front of you now, he’s grown up to be so big. A whole head taller than you and broad. He’s lean but clearly muscular. Intimidating in a sense. 

“Ah, you’re home,” ― he says, non-chalant. You’re trying to recall the last time you spoke to him, the last time you’d even seen him. Maybe a year ago now? ― “I wanted to talk to you,”

Your first though is to ask questions. You had so many of them though, you’re not sure where to start. You want to ask how he’s been, and how did he find you, and how’s work going. You want to ask why he’s here after all this time and if following his dreams has made him happy how he hoped. You want to ask if he remember what he said to you at 15 - wondering if he still gets caught up on it like you do. 

None of your words seem to string together right so you just shake your head a little, managing your disbelief. 

“About what?” you ask. He pauses for a second, rubbing his chin before smiling at you. 

“It’s later,”

Your eyes widen as he steps out of the way, using his hands to gesture towards your apartment. You blink at him but his smile is as cheeky as ever. Teasing and unusually handsome. You flush down to your neck before nodding. 

“Oh, uhm.. right. Okay,”―  you say, walking towards your complex doors ― “C-come on in,” 

_

“You can uh.. take your shoes off at the door,” ― you say, after taking your own heels off and rushing to the kitchen ― “The green slippers should fit you,” 

He nods as he watches you disappear to the kitchen. He takes in your apartment with a soft smile. Photos of you with your friends and family litter the entrance way. It’s filled with a soft yellow light, cozy like he’d expect. From below him, he hears a soft purr 

A beige cat walks around his legs, observing him quietly before nuzzling against his thigh. His smile grows wide as he squats down and holds his hand for the kitty, waiting for it to approve of him before reaching and petting him. The cat is quick to the jump into his forearms. 

“Who’s this?” 

He ducks as he enters into the main area of your apartment. Your eyes widen as your usually stand-offish cat nuzzles comfortably in your childhood friends chest. 

“His name is Creampuff,” ― you say, mildly stunned ― “He’s two,” 

“What a good boy,” 

Your heart races as you see him. After all this time, his presence still gives you those nervous butterflies. Maybe it’s because he’s become so attractive. Broader and taller but more rugged to look at.You feel like the floor might swallow you up. 

“I’ll.. put on some tea,” 

You take off your coat but you’re still in your work clothes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s staring at you. You’re too afraid to look behind you and see, confirm but his gaze is so heavy you’re almost certain. He traces the outline of your body and back with his eyes. 

He can’t help but think you’ve filled out some. Even from behind - you look awfully pretty. You look disheveled and sleepy like you did back in highschool, after cramming for exams. A little older now with that same cute expression on your face. It’s hard to hold back or tear himself from you - so he doesn’t try. He just watches as you pour the tea into mugs and let it steep. Minutes pass and it’s quiet but not as uncomfortable as you’d expect. 

You return to your kitchen table with two mugs, setting his down on a coaster. 

“Careful.. it’s hot,” 

He nods, taking the mug in his hands and blowing on it before taking a sip. He hums. 

“Ah.. it’s good. Thank you,” 

A silence settle between you briefly. Your heart is in your throat, hands trembling a little on the table. When he notices, he reaches for them. This is another of his habits, you think. Comforting people must be second nature to him, but it only makes you more nervous.

“So.. how’ve you been?” 

It’s the only thing you can think to ask. He studies your expression for a while. It used to the opposite of this. He used to be the nervous one, stuttery and unsure. You were always confident and steady - he’s sure you still are. This side of you is endearing though. He chuckles. 

“I’ve been good. Work is hectic but that’s always,” ― and you’re going to ask him another question. Dodge what he’s really here for, but he cuts you off ― “I’ve missed you though, so I came to visit,” 

You can feel it. This tension that presses against your back and makes you sit straight. He has that determined look in his eyes, easily recognizable when you watch him. In interviews and during fights and everything in between - like he knows what he’s going up against. To have it directed at you is so nerve-wracking, you find yourself doling under the pressure of his gaze. 

You fidget, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was always too much for to you handle. 

“O-oh?,” 

He nods, taking your hand in his. He holds it to his lips, kisses your knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You wonder where he learned to act like this. He’s different but the same. It’s too much for you so you shut your eyes. 

He stands until he’s on your side of the table. Rests on the corners edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at you with fondness, an unmistakable affection. After all these years, it’s only grown. Double and tripled in size. No matter how much he would try and punch it down, it never deflates. 

He thinks loving you is an act of heroism. The only way he could ever really save himself. 8 years and it feels like you’re old friends. Nothing unnatural or wholly uncomfortable. It’s strange. 

“I thought about what you said. About telling you later. This time though,” ― he drops to the floor, crouched between your legs so slightly. He does it to look straight at you ― “This time though, I have to tell you properly so you can’t make me wait again,” 

“I wasn’t making you wait,” you insist. He takes your hand in his and you unravel, body slumped. He kisses the palms of your hands, the inside of your wrist and it feels like gravity has no mercy on you. 

“It felt like hell,” ― he tells you ― “I can’t sit still anymore so I’m telling you now. Even if you want to run away, I can’t let you,” 

You frown, heart rapid. 

“That’s not very heroic,” 

He smiles. 

“Good. I don’t wanna be your hero. I just want to love you selfishly as Izuku and not Deku,” ― he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles ― “So tell me you love me back and grant my wish. I waited all this time,” 

You’re stunned into silence at his request. Eyes feeling especially water as he leans into you. It doesn’t make sense but it feels right. Your heart is beating - like you can feel all the blood pumping in you and your head feels light. 

“You say it so easily,” 

He laughs. It’s bright just like how you remember. 

“How could you know after all this time? How could you be sure?” 

He shrugs. You hit his shoulder at the nonchalance but he only chuckles. He  leans in closer to you, inches away from your face. 

“I waited for you all this time. Shouldn’t you give me a chance to show you?” 

You sniffle as his hands cup your cheeks. His smile is so inviting, how could you refuse him?

“I’d like to kiss you,”  ― he pauses, shaking his head  ― “I want to show you. Let me,” 

You nod as he leans into you. His lips are pillow and soft - touch addicting. You give into him so easily, tongue tied. He keeps you close, hand at the base of your neck. It feels so good, so perfect. You believe him when he kisses you like this With secrets under his tongue, between his teeth. 

“Tell me your answer,”  ― he demands, soft but stern  ― “You didn’t before. I need to hear it,” 

You give him an exasperated laugh. 

“I love you.. obviously” 

Right. Obviously indeed. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[jungkxook]

—the love bug. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 

⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 

You see Jungkook every night without fail.

When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.

Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.

You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.

This night isn’t any different.

You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.

You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.

“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”

The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.

“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”

Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”

Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”

“No thanks.”

“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”

Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”

The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”

“She said she’s not interested.”

The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”

Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.

“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”

You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.

“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.

“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”

Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”

“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”

You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.

As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.

“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”

“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”

The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”

Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”

“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”

“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”

He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.

“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”

Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.

“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.

As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.

You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.

Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.

You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.

You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.

You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.

You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.

“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”

Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”

Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”

Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”

“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”

The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.

“Well, anyone, for that matter.”

The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?

“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”

The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”

Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.

“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”

You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.

“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.

But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.

Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.

“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”

“It’s you!” You exclaim.

“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”

Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”

You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.

When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.

The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.

Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.

Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.

“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.

“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”

“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”

“You have? Who told you?”

This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”

A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.

“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”

Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”

“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”

“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.

“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”

Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.

Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”

Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.

“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”

“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”

“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”

Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.

That night you can hardly sleep.

You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.

It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.

A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.

“You again?” You ask humorously.

“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”

“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”

The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”

“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.

“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”

“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”

“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”

“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”

“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”

“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.

“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”

“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”

“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”

You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.

The days pass in a very typical blur.

Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.

It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.

“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”

Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”

Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”

“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”

“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”

As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.

“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”

Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”

And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.

Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.

If only he could be so brave without that mask.

On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.

Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”

As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”

You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”

“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”

When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”

“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I can name a few. Like the police.”

“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”

You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.

“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”

Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.

“Jungkook, I━”

But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”

“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.

You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━

“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”

You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”

“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”

Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”

The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.

“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”

“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”

The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.

“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”

You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.

Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.

In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.

On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.

You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.

You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.

“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.

His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”

“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”

His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”

You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?

It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.

Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.

You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”

“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”

You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.

“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”

“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”

The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.

“To add to the mystique?” he says.

“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”

“They would never be able to catch me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”

You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.

“What fame? People want to lock me up.”

“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”

“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.

“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”

A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.

“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”

“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”

He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.

“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”

When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.

“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”

This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.

The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.

Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook.

The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.

The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.

Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”

“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.

“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”

His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.

He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.

“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”

The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.

“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.

He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I show you something?”

You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”

“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”

You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.

You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.

You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.

It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.

The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.

You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.

You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.

A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.

“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”

His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”

He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”

The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.

He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.

There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.

You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.

You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”

Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.

“What’s up?”

Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”

Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”

Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?

“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.

“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”

Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.

“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”

Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”

“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”

“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”

A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”

Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then you’re kissing him.

You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.

You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says weakly.

You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”

“No.”

“What?”

You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.

“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”

You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”

“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.

Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.

“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”

Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”

When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”

“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”

“It’s not that simple━”

“It sure seems like it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.

“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”

“But I can handle it,” You insist.

“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”

Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.

You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.

In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.

It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.

There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.

“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.

“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”

Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.

“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”

“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn��t have to run away from me.”

“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.

“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”

You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”

You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━

“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”

Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.

He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.

You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.

Red and blue.

Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.

Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god! Jungkook!”

Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.

“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”

His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”

“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”

A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”

Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.

Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.

When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.

“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”

Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”

He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.

There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.

You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.

Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.

Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”

You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.

“Come here,” he mumbles.

You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.

You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”

“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.

“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.

“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”

He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.

“Really?”

Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”

He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man is cool.”

“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”

A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.

“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”

“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”

The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.

“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”

You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”

“I’m listening.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”

He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”

You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.

Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.

“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”

The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.

“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”

God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.

Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.

He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”

His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.

“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”

Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.

“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.

He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”

Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”

He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.

“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”

For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.

“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”

You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.

“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.

He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.

Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.

Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.

“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.

“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”

And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.

“Like this?” You gasp.

He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”

“Tell me,” You breathe.

Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.

“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”

You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.

You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.

So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”

He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.

Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.

He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.

When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.

“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”

Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”

“I know that,” he chuckles.

“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”

Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.

Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[erin-bo-berin]

Billy's sister! We see a lot of Mayfield!reader and I think it would be a nice change of pace to see Billy with a sibling he's decently close too.

Can I just say this request motivated me to save some really delicious gifs of Steve telling off Billy? I’ve yet to go back and watch the entire scene since I became a Steve and Joe girl and I’m like ??? WHY IS HIM TELLING HIM TO GET OUT SO HOT?

Also this is still Billy kinda being an asshole but I was going for the he’s looking out for her even if they aren’t THAT close. Idk I hope it’s okay 😬

Your first day at school in Hawkins, Indiana was pure shit.

You half wished you were still in middle school with your little step-sister, Max.

The entire day was basically awkward first introductions by teachers that you were new, boring classes and annoying ass girls questioning you about your brother, Billy.

You weren’t exactly close to your full blooded brother, but you didn’t hate each other as he and Max seemed to. With that said, you were annoyed by the parade of girls—these being ones that weren’t staring at him as he walked by, panties practically melting off.

The only thing that made it better was a senior named Steve. You shared one class with him in the afternoon and happened to sit right next to him.

He didn’t hit on you, like you thought he would, but he piqued your interest. It may only been him that made you change your mind, but maybe you wouldn’t miss California that much anymore, after all.

•

It didn’t take long for you and Steve to start sneaking around.

Why? Because you had to connect with your brother’s arch nemesis.

Billy could absolutely not stand Steve Harrington and you just had to fall for him.

But Billy wasn’t your father and you refused to listen to him when he told you to stay away from him, the one time he caught you with Steve.

Subtle touches and dangerous, stolen hallway kisses became your everyday life. You weren’t afraid of what Billy would do to you if he found out, but you afraid what he’d do to Steve. You’d started to care about him a lot and you weren’t going to let Billy ruin this.

Which is why you were currently hiding out with Steve, Max and her friends at the Byers’ house. He’d found you here and the tell-take signs of the rev of his car outside made you more than aware who was outside. Hence why you were hiding.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” Billy drawled, puffing on a cigarette, smoke billowing from his mouth.

You peered out the corner of the window, watching the interaction. You’d begged Steve not to go out there, but he insisted on protecting you and the kids.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” he responded, flatly.

“Have you happened to see my little sister by any chance? Short, sassy mouth, kind of a bitch?” he asked.

You grumbled at his description. Like you were the bitch in the family.

“Nope. Haven’t seen her,” Steve shrugged.

“Funny because last time I went looking for her, I found her with you,” he jabbed a finger into Steve’s chest, “I told her if she knew what was good for her she’d stay away from a douche like you, but she’s not known for her listening skills.”

“I told you,” Steve stepped back, “She’s not here.”

“Oh really? Then who’s that?”

He pointed to the window and you and the kids dropped down out of sight.

“Do you think he saw us?” Max asked.

“He totally saw us,” you groaned.

Steve, outside, was groaning too.

“Shiiiit,” he mumbled, “Listen-”

He turned back to Billy but with one swift push to the chest, he knocked him to the ground before stomping to the door.

“Y/N Hargrove! You get your ass here and I’m taking you home.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Max said, standing up for you.

“Oh, is that so?” he sneered at her.

“You leave her alone,” you scowled, “You got a problem, talk to me.”

“Okay,” he sized you up, “I’m only trying to look out for you. You’re only gonna get your heart broken. He is going to chew you up and spit you out, sweetheart.”

He peered over as Steve walked through the door much too late, finding your brother already lecturing you.

“You’ll survive Harrington. Plenty of bitches in the sea. Better than my sister, that’s for sure.”

You glowered at him.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve been seeing him, Billy. I don’t care how much you despise him. Build a fucking bridge and get over it,” you crossed your arms, defiant.

“I’m not leaving until you’re in the car with me,” he shot back.

That’s when Steve intervened, stepping in front of you, a hand to his chest.

“She said no. So you need to go.”

“Oh look at Harrington, being all manly. Is this the best King Steve can do?” Billy taunted.

“Get out,” Steve said, serious, “I don’t care if you don’t like me. That is not going to change my feelings for her and that sure as hell isn’t going to make me stop seeing her. Hell, I’ll probably want to see her even more.”

Billy chuckled, licking his lips, jaw tensing, but he just looked at you, raising his hands up and backing away.

“Good luck man, I’m just warning you now.”

With that, he turned and left, engine reviving and fading in the distance as he sped away.

You were certain the entire room let out a sigh of relief.

Then came a comment from Dustin.

“At least he didn’t have to fight him because he totally lost a fight last year.”