#Out-of-Town Tryouts
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fetchmearum420 · 10 months ago
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The final “falling apart” is David Ford 😭🫶🏻❤️
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thecitykeepsevolving · 11 months ago
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Wicked (2004)
If/Then (2014)
Redwood (2024)
WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO YOUR FANS, IDINA?
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fitzpirations · 1 year ago
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days of wine and roses cast recording being recorded,, you love to see it. I will go back to posting more academic things on this blog at some point
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nenestansunsthings · 2 months ago
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having svsss au ideas beyond my station
thinking. shang qinghua goes on a mission as a young disciple to some town in fuckoff nowhere and finds himself in the qiu household. and there he finds a young shen jiu, undergoing the plot he originally intended for him and hadn't realised had become real and he's so young oh god hes so young why is he so small what do you mean that part was real, he hadn't kept it why is it real—
and he panics and sneaks him the Fuck out of that house
and he's not sure what to do but surely sending him to cang qiong will fuck up something in the plot and he can't come under even more investigation and cang qiong tryouts dont happen for months anyway and his system would probably never allow it (it doesnt. it would interfere with yue qingyuans story) but shen jiu is refusing to stay anywhere near this place and wants to learn cultivating to protect himself make sure nothing like this ever happens again and sqh panics harder and
calls mobei jun.
okay. on second thought, maybe this was a bad idea. but he stumbles over himself and shushes baby shen jiu's very understandable freaking out and asks his king for the first thing hes ever asked for other than his own life.
is there any way this human child could learn cultivation in the demon world?
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jiminiecrickets · 3 days ago
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HONEY POT. PJM / KTH / M!READER
summary. there's something wrong with the popular kids at this small-town high school. something deeply, viscerally, hauntingly wrong...
wc. 8.8k
tags. smut | top!reader, bottom!tae, switch!jimin, jimin in skirts and heels, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, biting, spitroasting, brief daddy kink (r. receiving), gratuitous blood/gore, blood as lube (from another wound), cultism & religious fervour, cannibalism, murder
note. happy halloween!! i began this in early august to be on time, but uh, we know how that turned out :')
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"—and i was like, no, that isn't how this works! i'm literally the best he's ever had, why would he ever wanna break up with me? i even bought him that stupid walkman he kept whining about and he still went and cheated on me and then tried to dump me. me! how could he?"
"well, he was already on his way to being a forty-year-old junkie who lives in a trailer park and hates life. he could've had so much with you. he'll realise how much he messed up – he'll get his karma."
"i know, i know... you're right. i just wish he could've been nicer. could've saved us both the trouble."
jimin lifts his soft dark eyes from his pink handheld mirror. he smacks his glossy lips and shuts the mirror with a clack, crossing his legs the other way and leaning back against the steps of the steel bleachers. he glances up at taehyung, who sits one step above him.
dressed in a cropped, pale pink shirt and blue jeans, taehyung fans his hot face with chunky rings on each finger, eyes lifted to the sky in a futile effort to hold back tears. jimin had already helped him redo his makeup in the bathroom, and this wasn't the first time taehyung had cried over a boy. poor thing just had too big of a heart – he wasn't made for modern boys and their vices.
jimin sucks on his teeth and sighs, turning forwards to lord over the verdant grassy field, where the senior boys are engaged in tryouts for college football teams. "don't worry, honey. we'll find the right one for you eventually. maybe try an athlete? the artsy ones are always such snobs."
"oh, they aren't all that bad, really," taehyung mumbles, patting the corners of his damp eyes lightly. "anyway, they all want you, not me. they're not into anyone who isn't a cheerleader."
"you're being silly. they just don't think you're interested – you keep rejecting them." jimin scours the field, tucking his dark hair behind his ear. a diamond stud flashes under the sun. he reaches out and touches taehyung's knee, leaning in for secrecy he doesn't need. "how about that one?"
"he called me a sour bitch. no."
"and that one?"
"he made me do all the work on a paired project and took my ninety-eight for himself. no."
jimin purses his lips, eyes flickering between their faces, warm and shining under the sun. all around, they looked quite similar – all fairly muscular, with the same lazy grins. not bad for eye-candy, he supposes, but taehyung is a romantic, which is how anyone he dates manages to bury themselves so deeply in his heart.
motion by the changing rooms on the other side of the field. jimin's eyes flick over naturally, and they widen.
strong, handsome, and, most importantly, taehyung is already looking at him.
he keeps his watchful gaze discreet, following the figure as he crosses the field and joins the coach to speak with him briefly. he is handed a football, which he tosses and spins in his hands a few times, and the coach gathers a few lounging boys to help out.
they spread out, and the tryout begins.
jimin isn't an expert on the game, only knows the basics, but he knows how to read a man – and the coach is clearly impressed by what he sees. jimin observes quietly, crossing his legs and uncrossing them, as he runs circles around the rest of the boys, leaving them far in the dust.
at last, when the boys are huffing and puffing with their hands on their heads and the cute one takes his time wandering back to the coach – after meeting jimin's eyes for a quick, sparkling second – jimin turns his head in taehyung's direction.
"what about... that one?"
taehyung huffs, pressing his knees together and resting his elbows on them. jimin doesn't mention how his gaze flicks to his shoes before meeting jimin's, almost as if he didn't want to be caught looking. he gives the footballer a once-over, then inspects his nails. "too tall."
jimin watches him push back his cuticles with his thumbnail, those thick dark lashes brushing his fine cheekbones. his prettiness makes him a honeypot for invariably bad people, and though jimin feels for him, he can't say he wants him to stop trying. everyone has their place in the world – even cheaters and liars. taehyung's relationships make it easier to weed them out for proper atonement.
"are you sure?" jimin asks carefully, tilting his head. "he looks like just your type."
"i don't have a type," taehyung sighs. "if i did, it'd make finding people that much harder."
eventually, jimin hums, and turns away to watch the tryouts.
out of sight, taehyung's shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales shakily. he nibbles on the edge of his nail as his eyes follow a figure lifting a water bottle to his lips. his sweat-shining throat bobs as he swallows rapidly, and a trickle of water escapes from the corner of his lips; it trails down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. he wipes it away without much thought. taehyung presses his thighs together.
suddenly, jimin turns back to him, propping his chin on his palm. his eyes are big and innocent as he asks, "hey, tae? you know that ex we were talking about earlier? i want his address."
"o-oh, um – just to make him sorry, right?"
"yeah. he will be."
taehyung swallows. "yes. okay. is it bad that i feel... that i pity him?"
jimin giggles, sweet and high like a bell. he squeezes taehyung's knee. "you're my best friend. i'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you. you know that."
"mhm, i know. just make sure nobody sees you, alright? i don't want you getting in trouble for vandalism or something."
"oh, my charges would definitely include more than petty vandalism, but you know me – i cannot be caged!" he jumps to his feet and stretches high above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pure, unblemished skin. the way he scrunches his nose slightly makes taehyung's heart flutter.
he exhales softly as his neck cracks, and he flashes taehyung a quick smile as he packs up his pin-studded messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. "you can give me his address after school, but don't leave it too late. don't forget about the curfew. i have to go for now, but you make sure you take care of yourself, okay? if you feel too sad to study, i'm sure my mother would let you go home early if you asked."
taehyung hums and nods, leaning forward on the bench as jimin skips down the bleachers until his ivory pumps make a satisfying clack on the concrete base. "your nepo-baby status is really helpful sometimes, y'know?"
jimin beams, his eyes crinkling to crescents. "i know! see you around, honey. love you!"
"love you," taehyung echoes, and watches him go. his all-white outfit makes him as bright as the moon, and just as breathtaking. effortlessly, he carves a path through the crowds like moses and the red sea, perfectly oblivious to the power he wields over them all.
taehyung sighs and turns back to watch the tryouts, and that one special player right in the middle. just as he wishes you'd come and cheer him up, you glance over, grass stains on your shorts and a new bruise on your knee. as you meet his gaze, the biggest grin splits your face. you wave with your whole arm and taehyung giggles to himself, hiding his warm cheeks behind his knuckles as he lifts one shy hand.
his heart races. for you, he'll keep up this masquerade. this was a dangerous neck of the woods, and he wouldn't let anything steal you away – not even jimin.
he's waiting patiently for you at the edge of the field when you finally manage to break off from your mates. his slim fingers dance lightly over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as quickly as his touch arrives, it vanishes, his arms once more wrapped around his body like a hug.
"hey," he greets softly.
"hey yourself," you reply, amusement light on your tongue. "i saw you earlier. i hope you didn't get bored watching me chase after a ball like a dog."
he huffs. "what are you saying? dogs are cute. you were cute. i like seeing you bound across the field – you make for some especially tasty eye-candy, sweating and panting like that."
"do i, now?" you say playfully, leaning against the steel fence. he leans in too, matching your smile with a pretty, half-bitten one of his own. his lashes flutter as you tease a kiss, the tip of your nose brushing his cheek. "next thing i know, you'll be begging to lick me up."
he clicks his tongue, turning away from your almost-kiss in half-assed defiance. "tch. here i am, trying to be sweet, and you ruin it all. boys like you have only one thing on their minds."
"hey, you started it! besides, are you telling me you wouldn't wanna taste of my lollipop?" you smirk, gazing at his side profile. he's drop dead gorgeous, all full lips and big eyes, and you could easily while away your days doing nothing but admiring the symmetry of his features.
taehyung rolls his eyes, but there's no heat to it. he sniffs. "you wish. you wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the view."
you place a hand over your heart. "careful, pretty boy, or you and your mean insults could remain part of me for a long, long time. words hurt, you know?"
"what do i have to be careful for? you like me too much to do any lasting damage to me. it's nice, really. nice to know you love me – in your own, silly little way." he pokes your chest, and you catch his hand in yours and lift his knuckles to your lips. the ghost of a kiss shivers over his skin.
"silly?" you parrot, returning his hand to him with a knowing look. you rest your hip against the top of the chain-link fence, casting a glance casually over the field. "you think my acts of love are silly?"
taehyung hums, leaning over and grasping your chin. he turns your face towards him. "'sweet', then – that's probably a better word for it. none of my exes ever did what you do for me. not even close. i'm sorry, baby – please don't pout."
"i'm glaring, actually," you huff. "this is my glaring face."
"don't, you'll get wrinkles," taehyung chides. he glances around, and swiftly, like a little bird, flits up on his toes to press his lips against your cheek. in the blink of an eye, he settles back into place on his side of the fence. he sighs, and a sudden weight slumps his shoulders. you straighten, turning towards him properly.
"he noticed you," he says, his voice lower than usual. "pointed you out to me as a potential boyfriend."
the smile you were wearing drops like a stone. "he did?"
taehyung doesn't trust himself to speak; he nods instead, staring at his shoes.
"well," you say, at a loss for words. "i mean, he's tiny. what's he gonna do to me?"
his head snaps up and the intensity of his gaze catches you off-guard. "don't underestimate him. you can't. he – he can do more than hurt you. he'll ruin you.
"no, no – don't roll your eyes," he snaps. "i know, i sound paranoid, but you haven't even been here for six months. you haven't seen what i've seen." his focus flickers to your surroundings, and he seems uncomfortable even when he leans in to whisper. "please. keep away from him, don't tell anyone about us, and for the love of god, stop visiting my house after curfew. he's whip-smart – he notices it once, he'll catch on like that." he snaps his fingers. "also, we have a change of plans. mark's off the table – jimin wants him."
at that, the corners of your mouth turn down. you cross your arms. "not if i get there first."
"baby – baby, look at me. you can't risk it."
"fuck," you hiss between your teeth. you clear your throat and wipe the expression off your face, flawless neutrality taking its place. it still simmers under your skin, but it's always easier to sweep something under the rug than clean it up. "fine. i can bring a friend over tonight instead. it'll be easy enough – these sheep will follow me anywhere. we can... have him for dinner."
taehyung's eyes glimmer, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. the worry's sloughed off his shoulders for now, and that's as good as you can hope. "i've always loved your lamb steaks. i've been waiting for this – for you. i'll be at yours by seven sharp."
"wear your pretty clothes," you hum almost offhandedly as you survey your fellow students. there's not a care in the world in those empty heads. "something black – and sexy."
taehyung flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "everything i wear is sexy. you'd do well to remember that."
"yes, dear."
his hands shake. that oil-heat, sweat-sheen, bone-crunch. his breath rattles through his lungs like the tongue of a too-small bell.
the weight of the kitchen knife in his hand is too much – he lifts it, and it tilts forward dangerously, trembling in his red-wet palm. the silver glimmers and flickers under the yellow shed lights.
a warmth behind him, a sturdy presence – tender hands slide down his arms, tracing him from collarbone to wrist like a delicate porcelain doll. they fold around his slim fingers, big scarred knuckles too worn to be a boxer's – they wear gloves for protection.
"split the skin shallow, so you don't pierce the meat," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. you guide his hands with your own, slowly pressing down until the pop of released pressure signifies the beginning of the cut. "all the way down, just like that... good. you slip the knife under the skin and peel it back, making a scything or slicing motion to cut the membrane. long, slow strokes to control the angle of the blade. you want the meat nice and lean."
the night is still and silent outside, not a cricket or dog to be heard. the rushing of taehyung's pulse is loud enough for them all. he can feel your excitement against him – the quickened breathing, the thudding heart, the hitched gasp when his grip tightens on the knife and steadies.
"perfect," you croon in his ear, an undercurrent of a growl echoing beneath your words. "take your time. i want your first time to be..."
you shift against him, and he feels something prod his backside. he bites down on the inside of his cheek to silence himself and takes a deep, shaky breath, pressing down with the knife. sinew and muscle part easily under the sharpened blade.
"it's easier," he whispers, barely a breath, "than i thought it would be."
"you're doing very well, but remember, i'm guiding you. you won't find a better person to teach you."
your hands are big and knowledgeable over his own, each arc of the knife steady and precise. the blood warms his skin up to the knuckles, but it pales in comparison to your own, smeared up past your wrists in a deep ruby red. a bucket by the leg of the table is full of gore, intestines wrapped around a bladder and stomach and hacked-off chunks of fat. it was a job too bloody and slippery to give to your pretty shrike.
"this will be your steak," you hum, stroking the heavy, lick-wet cut of meat almost reverentially. you press your lips to his shoulder, then to his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin. "perfect knifework. it's almost as if you've done it before."
"well, it's like you said," taehyung breathes, gently placing it in the metal bowl at the top of the table. a secondary bowl beside it is already filled with some lesser cuts of meat, which you'd done to kill time before his arrival. "there's no better person to teach me."
he turns around in your arms, carefully linking his bloodied fingers behind your head. he noses your jaw, his lips brushing over yours. the strappy black top he wears clings to him like a second skin, and the gap between it and the top of his pants reveals his toned stomach, flexing now as he presses his hips against your thigh. he whines softly as you knock his knees apart and slide your leg between his with a teasing grin.
"no need to play coy, beautiful," you purr, digging your palms into the edge of the table. "if you want it, just ask."
"but where's the fun in that?" he gasps as you nip the soft skin of his neck, canines making reds and purples bloom across his sun-kissed skin. "o-oh – y-you know you shouldn't do that, baby. not so high."
with a furrowed brow, you growl softly, slowly rocking your thigh against him. "rules, rules, rules... why does he dictate your life like this? scared of being tossed aside?"
taehyung shakes his head, his head falling back with a moan. for someone who doesn't like being marked up, he sure does make it easy. he exhales as your breath trails up his throat and over his jaw. "he's not. he doesn't."
"yet you pretend as if we've never met when he's around, and you don't say anything when he forbids you from working with your hands. he thinks you should stay clean and pretty because he likes it that way. he holds you back, and you let him."
you punctuate your words with a fist around his throat, slowly pressing in. the flush that'd dusted his chest and neck while working the knife spreads to the apples of his cheeks, sweet and shy. his breath catches, and he looks up at you through the dark forest of his lashes.
you can almost understand jimin's rules. someone as beautiful as him shouldn't need to mar his skin with stains and calluses. that he still desires it – desires to delve deep into the marrow of mortality, watch it squeeze out between his knuckles – turns your stomach, in sickness or adoration.
"i'm sorry," taehyung nearly whimpers, panting short and shallow as his blood-slick hands scramble at your shoulders and chest. his eyes are black with lust and his pulse throbs under your fingers. "i know. i just don't want to upset him. i care about him."
you don't look away when you grab one of his hands, resting over your heart. you lift his knuckles to your lips and, under the heavy haze of hunger, he watches as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers. your cheeks hollow, and your tongue swirls slowly around each joint, as if savouring more than the iron taste.
he swallows thickly as the hand around his throat shifts, less to choke and more to pull close. his heartbeat thuds at the back of his throat.
pinned between your body and the table, the tiny shed door locked behind you, he realises suddenly what it must feel like to be your prey. you have a visceral animal strength about you, muscles like steel cable wound tight, always on the brink of snapping. only the patience of a tiger in wait keeps the mask from slipping, breaking.
your canines graze his finger, held firm in the heat of your mouth. the look in your eye says it wouldn't take much to release that perfectly wound tension, to let the slick nubs of your teeth open him up.
the look in his eyes invites you to.
eventually, you pull away, a satisfied smile splitting your face. you crush your lips against his, nicking his lower lip, and he moans at the warm iron flooding his mouth. greedily, your tongue laps at the stinging cut.
"fuckin' perfect," you husk, gaze flickering down to the red smeared over his throat and jaw, then further down to the obvious bulge in his pants. you snicker. "hm. need help with that?"
"please." he reaches down, as if to undo the buttons right there and then.
you grab his wrists and tut. "sweetheart, not over our dinner. you know better than that."
he groans. "it's your fault for driving me crazy!"
in response, you just laugh and grab the bowls of steaks. it's a surprisingly light sound even though you were ready to eat him up mere moments ago. "come on, then. we've got all the good cuts already. head in and put these in the fridge; i'll deal with the carcass. i'll be quick, i promise."
"you better be," he mutters, loosening the latch on the door. "i'll kill you otherwise."
when you open the door to your bedroom, halfway through drying your hands on a tea towel, you are greeted by the sight of an angel on your bed, long slender legs spread just for you. you toss the towel onto a nearby chair and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. you let out a slow, appreciative wolf whistle, smirking when taehyung's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. he relaxes at the sight of you, one hand already slipping back between his thighs.
"you're not much of a gentleman, leaving me alone to entertain myself. you have to make it up to me."
"demanding little thing." you click your tongue, leaving the door open and approaching him on the bed. he leans back against the piled-up pillows, sighing softly as his fingers slip back inside himself. they do so with whorish ease, and the smoky darkness of his gaze is smug.
a challenge, then? you can do that.
your fingers glide over the back of a chair, slow and thoughtful. you drag it to the end of the bed and straighten it to face him. he shivers slightly in the warm night as you take a seat, leaning back and spreading your knees. one hand rests casually on your leg and the other props itself up on the armrest, curled in a loose fist.
he pulls his fingers out slightly. you snicker at the confusion in his flickering gaze. "what are you getting up for? i was just getting comfy."
"i—" he falters. almost indifferently, his fingers glide in and out of himself, keeping himself hard while he gathers his thoughts. "but you promised you'd fuck me tonight... killing always did rile you up, red-blooded beast that you are."
"beast?" you parrot, exaggerating a pout. "aw – and here i was, thinkin' i was more than an impressive cock to you." you run your thumb over your nails, your eyes flicking to his open legs and sticking there as he pulls his fingers out to pump his dick twice, thrice. his hand travels back down. "no. i promised no such thing. after all, you've got a date with your pretty boy tomorrow, yeah? don't want him wondering why you're so loose for him, do you?"
he whimpers softly at the mention of it. his fingers dig deeper inside him, upping the pace, and his cock pulses with need. "n-no... i-i mean, i could just say i got a bigger toy..."
"oh, no, sweetheart – if you like a man, never tell them your toy is bigger than them. 'specially them rich types. they bruise easily." you sigh softly, thumb gliding over the edge of your jawline. his twitching cock blushes under the hunger of your gaze and his hole clenches. "you'll just have to wait it out. patiently."
"but i want you." he gasps, the wet squelch of lube making everything ten times dirtier. his breath quickens and he adds a third finger, shuddering at the stretch. "ah– baby, please, i've already been doing this for ages—"
"i didn't ask you to."
"your fingers are thicker than mine," he whines, eyes growing big and ever-so-slightly teary. he's good, you'll give him that. the slight lip tremble, the shaky breaths. you could make him cry properly. he's always been a pretty crier. you wonder if his eyeliner will run.
he sinks his fingers in until the knuckle and he moans, bucking onto his fingers. "god, won't you just fuck me already? why touch yourself when you can touch me? i can see how hard you are!"
you lift your hand off the bulge in your jeans and undo your belt teasingly, thoughtfully – as if you might take him up on that tasty, tasty offer. you lean back in the chair and exhale softly as you free yourself from the confines of your underwear. your cock taps your stomach and taehyung keens, unable to tear his eyes off of it as you wrap your hand around its base, stroking shallowly.
"w-wait," he gasps, beginning to pull his fingers out, "wait, i wanna – let me—"
"no," you say sharply, movements halting. "sit back. i didn't tell you to stop."
"but i can—"
"taehyung."
he quietens, chastened but obedient. he gnaws on his lower lip as his hand returns to its rightful place. he quivers as he watches your palm smooth over your tip and slide back down, precome bubbling from the slit. he can feel his own smearing over his bare stomach, hotter than his warm skin.
instinct takes over. over and over. over and over.
he's such a good boy for you – he's wasted on a creature like jimin. then again, are you really better than him? just the same, you've denied him his basest needs. to part flesh with steel, impart bliss with lust – you've just dropped one piece of control for another.
no. you can be better. you are better.
taehyung gasps sharply as you all but lunge at him, pinning him to the bed by his throat. his golden hair haloes him on the crumpled white blankets, like a gilded apollo so gently posed against marble. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes soft with worship and dark with desire, and kisses the thumb tracing the cupid's bow of his lips, a hand curled around your wrist. the other reaches for you.
you groan softly as he pumps your cock, twisting his wrist expertly. your belt buckle clinks and he giggles, eagerly reciprocating your greed. he hooks his legs loosely around your thighs.
"and you were the one preaching patience," he hums as you lean away to tug your shirt over your head. it gets tossed into a corner without so much as a glance and taehyung flushes at the view, half-lidded gaze raking every inch of revealed skin like a man starved. "oh..."
"how many times have you seen me shirtless?"
"not enough." he grabs your hand and pulls you into him, his hands locking behind your head and tugging you into a heated kiss. "you're also not bloody enough for my liking."
without waiting for a response, his teeth clamp down in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the meat is soft and muscle is taut.
pain blooms like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. a decisive movement, it left no room for bruising. taehyung groans, guttural, and digs his teeth in deeper, if only to keep the wound open for longer. his fingernails print stinging crescents into your biceps and he whimpers, eyes rolling back, as you shove his head into your neck, forcing the blood down his throat.
melting heat and iron, the sharp tang dissolving into sweetness – his tongue laps at the oozing wound, the arc of his teeth imprinted forever into your skin until the white of your bones will gleam under the midday sun.
when you allow him to pull away, his eyes are black, dazed and blissful. he smiles from ear to ear, teeth red and stained down the chin and throat, and crushes his lips against yours, tangling your hair in his grip and moaning sinfully loudly. his cock throbs, crushed between your bodies, and he bucks against your shaft, the vein on the underside catching against the ridge of your tip with a shuddering bolt of pleasure.
"i'm yours! i'm yours, all yours," he whispers fervently, obsessively. his tongue swipes over his lower lip, the oily heat marking him just like a sheep bloodying the muzzle of a wolf.
he smiles. he laughs. he presses your foreheads together, his stomach slick with his orgasm, and kisses you again, this time sitting upright in your arms.
"you're good to me. so, so good to me." he leaves the print of his lips against your throat and jaw like a jealous girlfriend, your own blood a perfect valentines' red. "fuck me – please? or i could suck you off, if you're still worried about tomor—oh!"
you flip him over and pull his hips towards you, slotted perfectly between your thighs. his own shine with excess lube and you push your cock between his plush thighs, thrusting impatiently to coat it. over his shoulder, he watches, wide-eyed, as you drag a few fingers up your chest towards your shoulder – towards the red bite mark leaking down your chest.
you smear the blood on your cock. taehyung's core throbs – his back arches. he nearly screams as you yank him onto your cock, burying yourself hilt-deep in not-enough thrusts. his mouth falls open as the burn sears its way up his spine and caresses his brain. he swears he can feel you in his throat.
"fuck! fu-fuck," he burbles, crying out as you set a steady pace, your hips slapping against his ass. you push his knees together with your own and his eyes show their whites, mouth open in a perpetual moan. he buries the chants into the pillow, staining it with blood, and his knuckles whiten around fistfuls of blanket as your cock scrapes his insides so deliciously, stabbing and thudding against his prostate. "fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuck—!"
you click your tongue, gaze glued to the point where you meet. "you've got a mouth on you, haven't ya? should fuck you until you forget how to talk. that'll clean you right up, nice and ready for your little boytoy. would you like that, sweetheart?"
"fuck, daddy, please, yes please," he whines, letting the pillow swallow the rest of his sounds. the ricochet of skin on skin echoes loudly in the cosy bedroom, and his cock throbs as it swings between his creamy thighs. shit, you could watch the ripple of his ass until the day you died, and none of it would be wasted time. you're beginning to suspect he has a stronger hold on you than you thought.
your shoulder stings like a bolt of clarity and you growl, grabbing and pulling his hips to meet your thrusts. he whimpers at the sound. "what an obedient pup. a little eager, but i s'pose that's normal, given that tonight was your first time." you huff and slap his thigh, making him yowl and his hips jerk. "wasted, you are. such steady hands. i could use someone like you."
"y-yes, yes, use me – ah, ah – love being used! mmn—!"
"not quite what i was saying, but i'll let it slide." you slam your hips into him and he chokes on it, letting his head falls limply to the pillow. he hasn't felt your cock in so, so long – he can't believe he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, how it filled him up just right to knock his brains out. you gripped him so tightly, too, as if he might get up and leave at any time – but you should know by now that he'll always be the one running back to you, that sick glint in your eye only making him swoon harder.
you had a few bad habits, sure. a few dark fantasies. but so did taehyung. and now he had your blood in him – your essence, the purest part of you – which could never be taken away, even if the elders found out about your relationship. they could take you, but not the part of you that you'd planted deep inside him. they'd never be able to dig it all out. you were a rot to their perfectly-tended garden, and taehyung wouldn't let you be cut out so easily – not when you were so sweet on the tongue.
he licks his lips, the faint taste of what remains fluttering his heart. he'd been careless with his moans, the cries of your name like a prayer. he found so many little deaths with you, and the best ones came screaming.
suddenly, emptiness – you pull away, hand slipping out of his. you halt, stiller than the dead.
hoarsely, taehyung whispers your name, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "n-no... so close, was so close, please..." he turns around.
his heart drops like a stone.
"hello," says jimin, in a voice like silk.
"baby, put the knife down," taehyung stammers, all pleasure doused by the sight of that too-big blade pressed up against your throat. "don't."
"why should i?" he adjusts it, nicking a fine pink line beneath your ear. red beads along it like a string of pearls. "he's a killer. he must be cleansed, same as the rest."
unconsciously, taehyung wipes his mouth, as if your influence on him could be removed so easily. he can still feel the heat of it pulsing against his lips. "but he's mine."
you roll your eyes, hands open and half-raised. of all the things he could've said...
yet, it seems to give him pause. the kitchen knife almost loosens – almost. he tugs your hair roughly, punishingly, and you grunt as the blade whispers against your skin. you have half a mind to teach him a bloody hard lesson, but taehyung might not like that.
"wait!" taehyung darts forward, hand outstretched. he slumps on the bed in front of jimin, gripping the sheets. "how – how did you find us?"
"i followed your ex," jimin replies, observing the wet blood painting half of your chest. the red against your skin is rather pretty... and it's in the shape of taehyung's teeth. "this mark is good at covering his tracks. not so much for those of others."
taehyung's eyes widen. no. you promised to stay away from his ex! then again, he never did see the face of the meat he was cutting up... and you weren't one to be one-upped by the likes of jimin.
"he's not a mark," he pleads, "not officially. he could join us! how many people has he already killed? how long did it take for you to realise? you only found him because he was too rash with this one."
jimin's eyes narrow. "all that tells me is that he grew cocky and let his guard down."
"the mark was cruel to me. he did it for me," taehyung implores, his eyes earnest. "he loves me. and i love him. put down the knife. initiate him."
you frown. initiate?
for a long time, jimin says nothing. he doesn't move.
he lifts the knife. taehyung's eyes widen.
he raises his hands in surrender. he huffs and crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his arm as he cocks a hip. his skirt and knitted vest give him the impression of a private-school kid, although the short sleeves of the dress shirt seem a touch too tight to be unaltered. he wears a shiny pair of tall, heeled mary janes, but you hadn't heard him until the knife was at your throat. odd.
"fine," he drawls, eyeing you with a slight curl to his upper lip. "you have two minutes to convince me. you're so lucky i like you, tae. wh—i mean, why do you even care? you said he wasn't your type."
"well," he searches carefully for the right words, "things change. and he fucks me the way i like it. you can't tell that from a glance."
jimin's gaze strays briefly downwards, over the shine of blood and flexing muscle. you're still hard, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your lips twitch up into a smirk. you adjust your undone jeans and cross your arms.
eventually, jimin steps closer, reaching out curiously to prod at the bite mark. ruby red oozes, and he watches closely as your eyes flutter briefly shut. his tongue glides over his glossy lower lip. "hm... but he's still a killer. i don't know what makes him more useful to me alive."
it's as if a lightbulb flashes over taehyung's head.
he leans forward, resting a hand on your thigh. he tilts his head against your hip. "maybe you can... try him. see from my perspective."
"i'm not getting on my knees," jimin scowls immediately, "not for a sinner."
"but you don't mind it when i do?"
jimin opens his mouth. he closes it. he throws his hands in the air, knife waving around carelessly. "we're not the same! i'm already doing you a kindness by letting him live this long. i should be flaying him right now for tainting your body with his filth. you're supposed to be pure. unsullied."
"pure?" you repeat, scoffing. you can only stay quiet for so long. "oh, you lot are crazy-crazy. worse than me."
his eyes narrow and his knuckles whiten on the knife handle. taehyung shoves himself between you, gripping your hand in his own. "no! stop it, both of you! if you kill each other, who's gonna take care of me? i'm still hard."
he's the perfect height for you. you prop your chin on his shoulder with a lazy grin, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. you play with his cock, making his breath stutter. "you're right as always, sweetheart... how cruel is he for cockblocking you? you deserve everything in the world and more..."
jimin's fingers twitch. taehyung bucks shallowly against you, but you keep him firmly in place as you stroke his cock, already sensitive. you kiss his neck. you haven't taken your eyes off of jimin.
he presses his thighs together as taehyung lets out a soft whimper.
"come on, sweet thing," you croon into his ear, cupping his chest and grazing his nipple. "don't you want my cock?"
gulping, he tries not to show how affected he is by the hardness pressing against his ass. "a-ah, um..."
"what was that?" you flick your wrist roughly and taehyung's eyes shoot open. blood fills his mouth from a bitten cut in his cheek.
nervously, he lifts his eyes to jimin's. his gaze is fixed on your hand and the way it engulfs taehyung's cock, flicking over his slit and grazing the veins with your nails. "i want – i w-want..."
"say it, tae."
the words come not from your lips, but jimin's. two fingers slip into taehyung's ass and he jolts with a sweet moan as you curl them.
"i want your cock," he rushes out in one breath. "fuck, i want it so bad."
"even more than your boyfriend's?" your words are sly, coated in a thick layer of faux innocence. "why?"
taehyung doesn't bother answering. you know the answer – so does jimin. he turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands, bringing you down for a desperate, hungry kiss. you thrust your fingers into his hole and he jerks, clamping down around you. you swallow his moans, pumping your fingers teasingly.
"i wonder," you drawl, kissing a trail up taehyung's neck, "if he likes watching. maybe that's why he doesn't want to date you. he wants to sit back and watch as other men ruin your pretty little body – after all, it's hard to enjoy the faces you make when preoccupied with doing all the real work."
the sharp intake of breath and the way he clenches around you tells you what you want to hear. he looks up at you with those dark, dark eyes, his breath quick and shallow, and leans into it when you sit him down on the bed with a creak. swiftly, he turns over, arching his back and wiggling his ass. he gazes back at you with huge eyes as you remove your pants. he's almost shy – though the twitching cock leaking down his thigh is anything but. red and angry, it demands attention.
you glance at jimin. the knife's still in his hand, but the thought of it seems secondary to the sight of taehyung on his hands and knees. you can hardly blame him.
from the edge of the bed, you grab the bottle of lube taehyung had brought with him. you slather a generous amount onto your cock and push a few fingers into taehyung with the remnants, exhaling softly as he pushes his hips back against your knuckles.
"my perfect boy." you scissor your fingers, then slide them out. "c'mon – don't be shy. show your dear jimin how well i stretch you out."
he glances your way sharply. you're already staring at him, grinning in the airheaded, cocky, handsome way that all popular boys seem to know intrinsically. the soft lips, the blood, the way you manoeuvre taehyung's body around yours as if he's a prop to make you look better... every jock knows that rising in the ranks means he needs to talk louder than the next guy, take up more space than the next guy, have prettier girls on his arms than the next guy. they say confidence is key, but that's only good at pool parties where nobody wants to really call anyone's bluff.
you're the only one who does it right. you're the only one with a cock to match that body.
taehyung exhales shakily as he reaches back and parts his asscheeks, fingers digging harder than necessary into the plump meat. he hides his burning face in the sheets as jimin steps closer, and his breath quickens as you tap your cock against his ass, teasing his hole with your tip.
"cute, isn't he? surprisingly sweet, too. thought he'd be more of a brat when i first saw him," you hum, casually stuffing your cock into him in one smooth movement. taehyung yelps and lets out a quivery little moan, his slick walls clenching around your thick cock. he sounds like he's trying not to cry – you sigh patiently and pet his hair before your hands return to their rightful places on his hips to pull him onto you.
his body jolts with each thrust, his muffled cries breathy and whiny. his ass ripples with the slap of your hips. on a particularly rough thrust which has him seeing stars, he whimpers out a "daddy" that has jimin's breath hitching audibly.
"good, baby," you husk, palms gliding down his body appreciatively. you slap his ass – so hard your palm stings – and he chokes, already-wobbly knees giving out beneath him. he catches himself just in time but the angle has your cock driving deeper inside him, oscillating wildly from kissing his prostate to fucking his brain out his ears.
you grab a fistful of his hair and loom over him, your lips brushing his earlobe. his spine arches when you tug roughly, his eyes rolling to show their whites as your cock throbs inside him, each thrust wet and slick. "tell him how you feel, whore," you murmur, soft but loud enough for your voice to carry. he gasps sharply at the title and his aching cock leaks like a faucet into a puddle of his own precome. he shakes his head, embarrassment hot in his core.
you tilt your head. "maybe i'll even let you suck him off."
"it f-feels good," he cries immediately. the quick, precise slapping of skin on skin echoes in the room. "i love your cock! i love tay-taking cock, love being fucked by big cocks – oh god! – 'n' yours is the biggest! love getting stretched wide on your dick, getting fucked 'til it hurts—! i-i never wanna come off, mm, i love being your cockslut – wanna be your bitch, your toy, all yours—" you bury yourself balls-deep in his guts and his mouth falls open, thick white come spurting from his tip; it's almost humiliating how you can make him finish without a single brush against his dick. he smiles, broad and wobbly. "ohhh..."
you peck his cheek, pressing against his back low and heavy like an animal. you grip his jaw. "coming already? don't go passing out on me," you chide, tilting his head in jimin's direction. "look at him. look. there we go. see how hard he is? he must like how obedient you get with me – with your daddy."
heat floods his body to the marrow. you've never used that title on yourself before – it's always been taehyung's thing, something you don't mind only because it's him. the raking burn of pleasure hurts, blooming from his cock all the way up his spine and out to his fingers and toes.
possession. it spins in taehyung's jumbled mind. you fuck him like you want to bruise your name inside him, forcing him to think of you and only you even when jimin sits on that chair in front of him, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his leaking length, just begging to be touched.
briefly, taehyung wonders how you might fuck jimin. he's giving you his infamous bedroom eyes, but there's an acrid darkness that taints his gaze. jealousy? inadequacy? scorn? taehyung's thighs are hot and sticky.
maybe you'd be rougher with him, tie him up and fold him in half with his legs over your shoulders. even as he distantly obeys your whispered order to open his mouth, and even as jimin slides his velvety cock between his lips, he can't stop imagining you behind jimin, manhandling him and forcing him to ride you to get off, even though jimin's such a pillow princess.
you grip taehyung's hips, sweat shining on your skin. you spread his ass and thrust deeper, smirking when he jerks forward, choking down the rest of jimin's dick and ripping a pleasured curse from his throat.
taehyung's limbs feel like jelly. he braces against jimin's hip, hooking his thumb under the hem of jimin's skirt to pin it back. as he sinks down on his cock, he chances a glance up.
rid of his little sweater vest and unbuttoned down to the navel, jimin does very little to chase his high. he meets taehyung's eyes and tilts his head slightly – he's almost perfectly still, and the only thing he does is gather his skirt in a fist. your quick, snapping pace sets taehyung's, and it's only by the blown pupils and pink-tinged cheeks that taehyung knows he's doing well.
"so," you begin, and your voice is remarkably steady. "did you come here intending to kill me?"
"please, i barely know who you are. there are others—" his breath catches, and he closes his eyes to steady himself "—others who're more deserving of atonement than you. which isn't to say i thought you a paragon of virtue – you're a handsome guy on a sports team, and sin comes to your type like moths to a flame. i knew i'd come to collect eventually, but you surprised me. congrats – not many can."
"did you watch?" you ask, patting taehyung's ass almost fondly. "he did so well with the – what did you call him? your mark? did you see how beautiful he looked, nearly orgasmic as he cut him open and warmed his hands with his blood? you must enjoy it, too – seeing the life fade from your victims' eyes. otherwise, you would've culled me the moment i took your kill."
his eyes narrow. "you're sick."
you laugh. "y'know, you and your little 'cult' aren't slick. i saw how pretty girls and guys don't shy away from the forest or the nasty parts of town because what they can do far outweighs the shard of glass a cokehead waves around. i thought it was a creative writing exercise gone crazy, something to explain the unusual disappearances around here. it was good for me, though. nobody'll raise a fuss if one more douchebag goes missing."
"i should kill you now."
"but then sweet little taehyung would be upset – you heard him." you pout. "besides, you must've liked something about me or you would've gotten rid of me as soon as i ravaged your favourite boytoy. do you have a thing for corruption? is that why you stayed, watched him come as soon as he tasted my blood? if you like, i'll let him bite the other side."
he pulls taehyung's throat down on his cock by his hair. taehyung eagerly laps up every throbbing inch he receives, nails digging into jimin's ass. he jolts and gags slightly as hot come pours down his throat without warning – his eyes flutter shut as his throat bobs, lips pressed against jimin's base.
"oh, i like you," you purr, something of a song lilting your voice. "are you as angry when you take cock, i wonder?"
"try it, i dare you."
you turn your attention to taehyung, who sits jimin's cock in his mouth like a good boy. he suckles softly, dazed and faraway. his walls are soft and hot, each gummy ridge stroking and clamping around you to pull you in as deep as possible when you finally, finally come, forcing him over the precipice as well for the nth time that night.
you pet his hair and he leans into it, moaning as you gently pull out, letting him sink into the mattress. thick come drips down his inner thigh, pooling in the dips of the bed. softly, you groan, gathering yourself and lavishing kisses upon kisses over his neck and shoulder. "what do you think, baby? should i fuck the cultist freak?"
taehyung pops off wetly, licking his lips. his chest heaves. it's hard to scoop his brain up off the floor, but the thought of the two people hottest people he knows putting on a show, all for him? "p-please..."
you raise your eyes, and meet jimin's glare with a smirk. "you heard him. don't wanna disappoint, do we?"
"you think you deserve to fuck me? after everything you've done? you don't even kill for a reason," he scoffs. "you're no better than an animal."
"what is it with you and prettyboy here thinking i'm less than human? you cower behind your righteous moral justifications when you take a life and hold me to the same standards, but animals don't have morals. i can only be one, baby, so choose."
jimin glowers.
"you've got me in a box," he admits eventually, and his expression twists as your smile turns gloating. "shut up. you can fuck me – just this once."
"those are dangerous gambling words," you tease, but lay back against the headboard, one hand behind your head and the other wrapping around the base of your cock. your absence above him makes taehyung blink – hard – before he shuffles after you like a sleepy puppy and buries his face in your shoulder.
his thighs still twitch every now and again, and he lifts his unfocussed gaze to meet jimin's. it clears, just enough, for a fat, satisfied grin to spread across his face and he shifts to spread his shaky legs, showing off the warm glazed mess between his thighs like a piece of art.
jimin's cock throbs. taehyung grins lazily, knowingly, eyes half-lidded and hungry. he slides your slick cock between the vee of his fingers and flicks his wrist. a pearl of precome beads along your slit and follows the line of a vein, gathering eventually along taehyung's slender finger.
unwise, a voice whispers in his head, regal and maternal, yet youthful.
with a sigh too breathy to be accidental, taehyung splays his fingers over his lips and tilts his head back, taking one finger at a time against his scarlet tongue to clean it. his lashes graze his cheeks. his eyes are black corridors of velvet, and he gives jimin's invisible leash a tug with a curl of his pretty fingers.
it was never that taehyung made it too hard to say no. he made it far too easy to say yes.
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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Batting Practice Part 24 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley senses you're giving him the cold shoulder. He hates waking up alone, especially on his birthday. But the rec league tryouts and a shopping trip with Everett hopefully puts him one step closer to what he really wants. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Bradley woke up alone in his bed on his birthday. Sure, it was a work day for the two of you, but he couldn't help but feel like you'd become a little distant with him since Sunday evening. 
He wanted to move in with you and Everett, but it wasn't that simple. It was actually complicated as hell. And now he was thinking he shouldn't have been getting Everett's hopes up about it.
Things were moving fast. Probably too fast. Bradley was all in, but he didn't know if you'd even want to take things to the next level with him. Yeah, you wanted him to move in, but he wanted you to be his family. But you'd been married before, and there was no doubt that Danny had probably ruined that entire experience for you.
And not only had Bradley never moved this fast before, he'd also never thought about buying a ring before. He'd barely had girlfriends who lasted longer than a damn month, always bailing as soon as it was clear his feelings were nowhere near as strong as his partner's.
He wasn't sure exactly why you were different, but you were. He wanted to stick around. And he didn't like waking up alone anymore. And now he convinced himself to stop for a little birthday treat, but the Starbucks took so long, he was going to be late for work.
"Damn it," he growled. You had better coffee at your house, but you hadn't invited him to stay over the past few nights. 
Tryouts for the Navy baseball league were being held this evening. Bradley packed the red and white striped Phillies socks you and Everett gave him for his birthday for good luck. When he had asked yesterday if the two of you would be able to come watch, you'd given a vague answer about work and picking Ev up from summer camp.
Bradley drank his hot coffee too fast and had to practically run to the simulation room to get there on time. "Happy birthday," Nat crooned when he walked in out of breath. "Wow, you look like shit today."
"Thanks?" He was already grouchy, and now he had to sit by his best friend who was notoriously annoying when he was in a bad mood. But luckily Admiral Simpson was calling everyone to attention. 
After hours of testing out new simulation software, only stopping for a soggy sandwich for lunch, Bradley's mood hadn't improved. He missed it when you packed his lunch for him. You had sent him a text that said Happy Birthday! which he supposed was a good thing, but he wanted you telling him you couldn't wait to see him later. If you and Ev weren't at the tryout, then what was the point? He really only sent an application because he knew Ev wanted him to play in the first place.
"You ready to pitch?" Bob asked him with a grin in the locker room after they had been dismissed for the day. 
"Yeah," Bradley grunted.
He watched Bob's smile turn to a frown. "If you want to play shortstop instead, I'm sure nobody will care. I thought you were looking forward to this."
"I am," Bradley said, trying to sound reassuring. 
Bob hummed. "I can't wait to see Molly. I've barely seen her since Sunday with her work schedule, but she promised me she would be there."
And now Bradley was scared you wouldn't show.
------------------------------
You rushed out of work, your high heels clicking across the tile floor in the lobby. Thirty minutes. You had thirty minutes to pick Everett up and drive across town to get to Bradley's baseball tryout on time. 
As you drove to get Ev, you thought maybe this was why he didn't want to move in with you; everything you did was on the other side of the city from everything he did. Or, you thought, perhaps Bradley just didn't feel comfortable in your house yet. Or maybe he just really didn't want to be around you and your son all day, every day. But it didn't really matter, because your feelings were hurt. And you were finding it hard to be happy for Molly and Bob now. 
When Everett got in the car, the first words out of his mouth were, "Are we going to the tryout? Did you bring my sign?"
You nodded and told him, "Yeah, we can go. Your sign is in the trunk." He had spent an hour last night coloring on some poster board, making a sign so he could cheer for Bradley. 
"It's starting soon!" he whined as you drove as quickly as you could. The tryouts were being held at a beautiful facility near the naval base, and you actually got there with a few minutes to spare. Everett was out of the car and opening your trunk before you even grabbed your sneakers off the passenger side floor. 
"Calm down, Ev. It didn't start yet." You and he walked past Bradley's Bronco, and once you got onto the soft grass, you changed into your other shoes while you walked.
"I'm going to get a spot on the bleachers!" Everett called, running ahead of you. But your eyes caught on Bradley and Bob, standing next to each other and leaning on the chest high chainlink fence. They were facing away from you, looking out over the infield. You had missed Bradley all week, and you knew that you needed to get over the way you felt. He was right; you could revisit that conversation later. Right now, you just wanted him to come home with you and stay all night. You had cupcakes waiting for him just in case.
You were approaching them, ready to surprise him with a huge birthday hug, when you heard Bob ask Bradley, "Think you'll move in with them?"
Bradley took his backwards cap off, and you froze as he ran his hand through his hair. "I think we're holding off for now," he said, turning his cap the other way before leaning on the fence again.
"Why?" Bob asked. "Everett seems to think you'd make a great roommate. He said he wants you to move into their extra bedroom." He chuckled, but Bradley shook his head. Your heart was pounding, and you wanted to walk away, but you just couldn't. So you stood there with your high heels in one hand, feeling like you were going to cry.
"It's not that easy," Bradley said softly. "There's a lot to consider. I know Ev's excited about the idea of it, but the reality would be that his mom's boyfriend would be living there. I just don't know if it's what I should do."
Then Bob asked the question that popped into your mind. "Do you still have reservations? About Everett?"
"Hell no, man!" Bradley said loudly. He sounded angry. "No! I love that kid more than anything. I'd love to be his dad someday. I'd adopt him tomorrow. I just want to do right by both of them. And I'm not exactly sure what that means."
You were dizzy. His words hit you right in the chest. Your mouth was hanging open and you felt out of breath. He was talking about adopting Everett like he'd already made his mind up. 
"That makes sense," Bob said. "Does she know how you feel?"
Bradley was quiet for a few seconds. "She knows I love her. I told her I'm not going anywhere. I'm ready for more commitment."
You ran up behind him, closing the short distance and squeezing him around the waist from behind. 
"Kitten!" He turned, and then you were hugging him with your face smashed to his chest, smiling so hard.
"Happy birthday," you mumbled, kissing him just above the collar of his tee shirt. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he immediately replied, rubbing his big hands along the back of your suit coat and kissing the top of your head. 
You turned your head and said, "Hi, Bob." But then a loud whistle filled the air and you looked up at Bradley. 
He kissed you hard on the lips before he said, "Time for tryouts, Kitten."
"Will you sleep over later?" you blurted out as he pulled free of your grasp. 
He smiled and kissed the top of your head again. Then he bent and picked up his gear bag. "That would make me so happy." 
As he stepped onto the field with Bob, you called out, "You can do it, Coach!"
-------------------------
Bradley was sweating. It was hot, and he was nervous. "It's just for fun," he muttered to himself as he stood on the pitcher's mound. "Just a rec league." Then he threw a slider to the catcher and let out the breath he had been holding. When he glanced to his right, he saw Everett sitting between you and Molly, and he was holding up a sign that made Bradley smile.
GO COACH BRADLEY!
He did not want to let that kid down, so he threw a decent fastball for his second pitch. He could hear you and Everett cheering for him as he threw a changeup. The catcher gave him a thumbs up before throwing the ball back, and Bradley was starting to feel good now. So threw two more sliders, and he just kept getting better. 
When the coach asked him to throw one more pitch, he went with a curveball. And then it was time for batting, and on his very first swing, he hit a home run.
He was a bit stunned, but he could hear Everett freaking out, so he ran the bases for fun while Bob and some of the other guys gave him high fives down the third baseline. 
"Damn, you played in college didn't you?" the coach asked as Bradley picked up his bat once again. 
"Yeah," he said with a laugh.
"That was an impressive hit. You've got a great arm, too."
"I actually used to play shortstop," Bradley told him, adjusting his hat and getting ready to bat again.
"Well if you want to pitch, then you made the team."
Bradley looked over to Everett and then back to the coach. "Seriously? I already made the team?"
"Definitely."
Bradley tried to reel in his smile as he hit a few more balls and then went to sit on the bench while someone else tried their hand at batting. But he just couldn't wait to get up on the bleachers and tell Everett that he made the summer league team.
Bradley waited for the tryouts to officially end, hoping Bob would make the team too. His fellow aviator was fast and always seemed to make the catches in the outfield look like a walk in the park. When Bob joined him in the dugout, they stood next to each other, awaiting the final roster from the coach. 
"First base: Hamilton. Second Base: McPhee. Shortstop: Yang. Third base: Ruiz. Catcher: Hernandez. Pitcher: Bradshaw. Relief pitcher: Matthews."
Bob elbowed Bradley in the side and smiled at him. 
"Right field: Merrick. Left field: Wiley. Centerfield: Floyd. I'll post some bench positions as well. Thanks for trying out." 
Then the coach handed each of the starting players a navy blue and white cap. Once they were dismissed, Bradley had Bob in a tight hug. 
"I didn't know you'd be this excited, Rooster," Bob said with a laugh. "You made pitcher!"
"Oh, man," Bradley said, slapping him on the back before letting go. "I missed playing. You were right. This is going to be so much fun."
"You just want to show off for your girlfriend," Bob told him, slipping the cap on his head.
"You just want to show off for your girlfriend," Bradley replied, rolling his eyes and gathering his glove and bat together. Then he slipped his cap on as well, and they climbed out of the dugout, side by side. 
"I'm so in love with her," Bob mumbled, and Bradley saw Molly standing next to you and Everett, waving to Bob like she couldn't wait to see him. Then he looked at you, and Bradley's heart started pounding. But it was Everett running toward him with the poster board that really made Bradley smile. 
"Did you make the team?" he asked, and Bradley scooped him up in a hug. 
"Well they gave us these hats," Bradley said, putting his on Everett's head. "What do you think?"
"They made the team!" Everett shouted to you and Molly. Bradley carried your son over to you and kissed your lips. 
"We knew you would," you told him as you wrapped your arms around him and Everett. "You were so good, Coach."
"It's your birthday and you made the team!" Everett said, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. 
This was exactly how Bradley always wanted to be. He felt comfortable, welcome, safe and loved. He kissed Everett's cheek and nodded. "It's a pretty great day."
------------------------
Everyone followed you back to your house, and you were thankful you had taken the time to get those birthday cupcakes for Bradley. He ended up tossing some hot dogs and burgers on the grill in your backyard, even though you told him you didn't mind cooking his birthday dinner.
"Go relax," Bradley told you, nodding toward your deck where Molly and Bob were blowing bubbles with Everett. "I'll take care of it." He kissed you and sipped his beer before flipping the burgers. 
You patted his butt in his snug baseball pants and whispered, "And later, I'll take care of you." His smirk as you walked away had you giggling. 
When you ate dinner on the deck as the evening sky darkened, you watched Everett where he sat on Bradley's lap eating a burger. "Are you going to get to throw all kinds of pitches? Are you going to start every game?"
Bradley held a napkin so Everett's ketchup wouldn't drip and answered every single question. He never seemed annoyed. He never gave you the impression that your son was irritating him. They seemed like they were cut from the same cloth, and honestly it made your heart skip wildly every single time.
"Yep, I get to work with the catcher about which pitches I should throw," Bradley told him. "And I get to start the games."
Then Bradley turned and smiled at you when Everett started interrogating Bob across the table. 
"I love you." The words came so easily now, you said them without thinking about it much. You'd missed him over the past few days, thinking he just didn't want to move in with you. But he probably just needed more time. You weren't in any hurry anyway. You and Everett could wait for Bradley to want to move in. 
"Love you, too, Kitten," Bradley replied, reaching for your hand. Molly grimaced and pretended to gag on her cupcake which made both of you laugh. 
"Like you're any better?" you asked her, kicking her foot under the table. 
"Never said I was," Molly replied, running her fingers through Bob's hair as he told Everett about the rec league. Bob reached up and took her hand in his, kissing her fingers while Everett asked him another question. 
"This was nice," you said with a nod, smiling at everyone before you stood to clean up the dishes. But Molly and Bob ended up cleaning everything while Bradley took Everett to get ready for bed. 
And a little while later, Bradley was the one one grunting in your ear. "This is nice," he groaned, unclasping your bra. "I love unwrapping my birthday presents." He palmed your breasts with a smile on his face.
"I can't wait to see what you wrap up for my birthday," you moaned as he scooped you up and set you down on your bed. You were completely naked for him except for your paw print necklace. He pressed a kiss to the charm before kissing your lips. 
"You can have anything you want, Kitten," he promised. And you thought about having a million more nights like this one, with family dinners and then Bradley's body pressed to yours. 
His shirt was off, biceps warm beneath your palms. "Well you can have anything you want."
Bradley froze with his lips on your nipple. He ran his nose down the valley between your breasts before kissing your sternum and looking up at you. "I want you to know that I am not going anywhere, Kitten."
You nodded and whispered, "I know that."
"I want to be here for you and Ev," he said, kissing the undersides of your breasts. "I want... I want you to know I'm not hesitating to move in because of me. So if you and Everett really, honestly want me here all the time, I have one condition."
You took a deep breath, getting nervous as your legs rubbed the rough fabric of his baseball pants. "What's your condition?" you asked softly.
"A stronger commitment," he said, nodding once like it was nonnegotiable. 
But you weren't sure what to think. "What does that mean?" 
Bradley's lips returned to your body after he said, "It means you'll be my family someday soon. I hope." 
He reached for your hands as you processed his words. Family. You already felt like he was. "Okay."
Bradley held your hands above your head and kissed you until you were whimpering for him. Then he unzipped his baseball pants and pulled himself free as you spread your legs wider. He ran his fingers along your pussy, head tipped back as he moaned your name. Then he coated himself up with his fingers before pressing inside you. 
"I love you," he whispered, fucking you nice and slow. It was his birthday, but you were the one getting it exactly how you needed it. "Love you so much, Kitten."
You combed your fingers through his hair, thinking about how he wanted even more of a commitment. What more could he give you right now? He made you feel like you had everything. 
-------------------------
On Monday, you let Bradley pick your son up from summer camp. Everett came bounding toward him, surprised and excited that Bradley was there.
"Are we going to practice baseball stuff today?" Everett asked after he hugged Bradley.
"Nope," Bradley told him, turning his cap backwards and leading him toward the Bronco. "I've got something important that I need your help with."
Everett gasped. "Like a secret mission?"
"Exactly like that," Bradley replied, opening the back door for Everett to climb in.
He'd given this a lot of thought after spending the weekend at your house, falling even more in love with the two of you. After Saturday morning pancakes and an outing to hunt for baseball cards, Bradley treated everyone to a movie and popcorn. The fact that you and Everett wanted him to sit in the middle because you both wanted to be by him had him grinning. 
"Are we going to be spies?" Everett's eyes were huge as he buckled himself in. "They go on secret missions all the time for stuff."
"Not quite," Bradley replied with a laugh. "I need your help shopping."
Everett groaned as Bradley closed the door and climbed in the front seat. "But I don't like shopping!" he complained, and Bradley was still laughing. 
"I don't really either, kiddo. But this is shopping for something really important to me," he said, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. "Think you can help me out? Just this once? I'll get you a chicken nugget Happy Meal when we're done."
"Yeah," Everett sighed. And a few minutes later, Bradley was scooping him out of the booster seat and taking him inside the jewelry store. 
Once they were in front of the case of diamond rings, Bradley asked, "Do you think your mom would like any of these?" Maybe it was silly to ask a seven year old for help picking out an engagement ring, but Bradley knew you'd like the ring even more if they picked it out together. If you said yes.
Bradley's palms were starting to sweat as Everett scanned everything inside the case. Things were moving fast. There was a solid chance you were going to say no. Or tell him you weren't ready. But Bradley wanted this. He needed to know what was coming next if he moved into your house. He wanted to know he could be with the two of you forever. 
Just as he felt a wave of panic wash over him, Everett pointed at one ring in particular. "That one looks like a baseball," he said, looking up at Bradley and grinning. "I think she would like a baseball ring from you."
"Yeah?" Bradley asked, bending to look at it. When the shop owner came over, he only asked to see that one ring. It was really pretty, and it seemed like something you would wear. Just a solitaire diamond with a platinum band. It was elegant and simple. Not overly frilly, but still something that made you want to stop and look at it. And once Bradley was holding it in his hand, he really thought it was perfect. 
He braced himself to hear the price while he dropped the ring into Everett's hand. Everett tried it on his index finger and laughed at how big it was. The price was manageable, and Bradley briefly considered sending a picture of it to Molly for final approval before deciding against it. 
"You know what?" he asked Everett. "I think we did a good job with this."
"We did," Everett replied with a nod. "She's gonna like it."
Bradley handed the ring across the counter along with his credit card. "I'll take it." He had no idea if it would fit you, but they could deal with that later. Because now he was in a state of shocked anticipation. He wanted to drive right to your place and beg you to marry him. He wanted to show you the ring and hope you'd say yes. 
"She'll like anything you give her. Especially if you say you want to get married!" Everett said with wide eyes. 
"I hope you're right, kiddo," Bradley said, running his hand through his hair. But now Everett's forehead was scrunched with concern. "What's wrong?"
Everett got quieter as he asked, "Does this mean you'll be my dad?"
Bradley swallowed hard and knelt down in front of him. Everett's eyes were so open and sincere, curious to know what this meant for him. "Ev," he started, unsure about how to answer. "If your mom and I are going to get married, then I'll be there all the time. I'll move into your house. We can do your homework together, and eat dinner. And I'll take you outside to play every day. Does that make sense?"
"But will you be my dad?" he asked again, and Bradley pulled him into a tight hug. Because he wanted to be. But he couldn't make a promise without talking to you. Without proposing to you first.
"I hope so, okay?" Bradley's voice was deep and raspy. "I love you."
-----------------------
Our favorite coaches made the team! Do we think Ev and Bradley have good taste in rings? Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 25
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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libraford · 1 year ago
Note
Have you shared the story of you joining the track team with us? I feel like you have but I can't remember any details.
I SHALL TELL YOU A TALE OF PURE FOLLY!
The year us 1999, I am in seventh grade. Like most seventh-graders, I hate everything that I am forced to do but I especially hate Pep Rallies. They are hell for my tiny little social outcast ADHD brain: loud noises, forced enjoyment of an activity, sports, pointless interaction with people I can't stand, and the potential for relentless bullying afterwards.
So we had a pep rally.
And I, for the first time in my rules-following life, decided to skip.
My class filed into the gym, I ducked into the bathroom, and waited for the sound of the doors closing.
Problem was that I didn't think I'd get this far and I've never been in the habit of delinquency, so I had no idea what to do next. I started wandering the halls just a little bit, testing out the freedom of having broken the rules, going down hallways that weren't part of my routine...
...when I heard dogs barking.
You see...
...the pep rallies weren't exactly about basketball. The pep rallies were an excuse to make lots of noise so no one heard the police dogs when they came looking for drugs in people's lockers.
And I am not where I'm supposed to be. I am where NO ONE is supposed to be. And I panic, because if I show up to the pep rally late they are going to notice.
I did not think this through.
So I start looking for somewhere to be while the police are searching for worse criminals than myself and I see a bunch of students in the cafeteria. One of them is a friend of mine, so I wouldn't be completely out of place in this location, so I came in and sat down next to her. A roster is being passed around and I sign it so that I can say that I was accounted for during the pep rally in some way.
The teacher who is heading whatever this is stands up in front of this group and says:
"Thank you for coming to the track and field tryouts. You've all made it in."
Uh...
...woops.
I think I'll just sit through this one meet and then quit. People do it all the time, I don't think anyone would notice.
Except that this is a small town and everyone knows everyone- so the teacher/coach helpfully informed my father that I'd joined the track team voluntarily and in no way was it a mistake of any kind.
My whole family is sports nuts. My dad was in charge of the sports page at the news paper, my mom will talk excitedly about college football, and my brother has excelled in every sport he's ever been in.
I'm a textbook case of Not That. Art student, lead violist, and the most exercise I get is dodging projectile rocks on my way home from school.
But my dad is SO proud of me when he hears about it. Lee is doing a Sport? A Sport that's physical? A Sport with a team? A SPORT!
Like... he bought me new shoes and stuff to clean the shoes with and all kinds of first aid stuff for my muscle pains and oh my god for the first time in his life I was in a SPORT!
(Just to emphasize- he has always been PROUD of me. He thought I was a genius because I showed him how to make chocolate dipped strawberries at home without a fondue pot like... he's pretty sure I'm going to save the world somehow. But this was the first time that I had ever shown even the smallest bit of interest in doing a Sport, which is HIS special interest and now we can BOND!)
So I try.
You know... I hate running.
I actually have a condition caused by a childhood illness that impacts cartilage development as well as asthma from a bronchial infection when I was in 5th grade.
But my dad came to all of the track meets that he could and I was so deep into the lie that quitting now would break him.
So I try my hand at non-running events: shot put and discus. I'd still have to run during practice, but I was allowed to go off and do Not Running for a little bit.
I can't remember the actual numbers or anything, but I remember that when I first did shot put with proper form, the coach kind of turned her head sideways and said 'damn.'
So turned out that being at the roly-poly stage of my larval development meant that I was still learning how my personal body chemistry affects the build of muscle. The answer is 'very quickly.'
It starts getting hard to find shirts that will fit my biceps and now I'm in trouble for wearing non-standard issue tank tops to school from practicing shot and discus.
If this were a movie, it would mean that suddenly being a jock meant that I had been accepted by my peers and something something Mean Girls something something. But no, because having incredible muscle as a thirteen year old did not do anything to disspell the rumors that I was a lesbian and unfortunately I was still bullied relentlessly. Nor did I ever throw a punch because I don't like hurting people and no one ever taught me how to fight. But it did mean that I had a handful of girls ready to use teeth and nails to defend the shot put champion.
Which is important because I was the ONLY shot put and discus thrower in the school.
And as I found out- the district.
I went almost an entire season without competing against a single person, winning the event by default.
Until the semi-finals.
And I did have to compete against an assortment of other thirteen year olds that were just now learning that they had upper body strength. But because they ALSO were the only ones competing in those events they had never competed against another person either.
So we all sucked.
I got gold in shot put. Bronze in discus. But to their credit there were only three competitors.
Huge fucking deal for my dad.
Not a huge deal for the rest of the track team, who all did really poorly in most events BUT throwing events, which meant that this was our last game of the season.
And so ended my short, accidental career as the middle school shot put champion.
"Did you try out again in 8th grade?"
Fuck no. I hate running.
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mercurycft · 8 months ago
Text
𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 — 𝐆𝐒 . 𝐋𝐖 . 𝐊𝐖
## georgia, leah & keira !!
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Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this! I’ve missed writing over the last crazy weeks, i’m getting through all my messages & requests now! More parts of this to come! Thank you! Love always - RGx
1,786 words.
When Keira and Georgia first met, they were in school. Fifteen and wrapped in blazers that were at the very least a size too big, hanging down by their waists and protruding from their shoulders.
The pair weren’t totally unfamiliar, sharing a group of mutual friends - more specifically, Leah, who would throw their names around in conversations.
Leah had lived five minutes from Georgia practically since they were born. they spent years kicking about on the field outside Georgia’s house, seeing each other through years of school and friendship. That was until year seven found them both in different schools at different ends of the town - but somehow, through the mess of puberty and British secondary school, they never lost touch. instead opting for a weekly kick about on a Tuesday, which usually ended in a mess of laughter. The type of laughter that's silent and pure joyous, the kind that makes you hold your nose and cross your legs. most importantly, it worked.
Leah and Keira however, had met on the third day of year seven. football tryouts, obviously. Leah striking up a conversation about Keira’s boots, and helping her to tie the ridiculously long laces. They both made the team and made an even better pair. Keira, despite her small frame, dominated the mid field. Leah, with her big aspirations and an even bigger mouth, dominated the defence. They would scream across the field, calling to each other after a good pass and swearing under their breaths when the ball came off their feet in an unintended direction. It started at after-school practice, then lunch, then the days seemed to fall into weeks, then into months, then into years until their meeting became a soft memory of them.
It was the final day of school before May half-term, a Friday. It was still warm and light out, the sun still standing her ground as four o’clock rolled around and the final bell rang through the grounds. At the sound, Keira and Leah hurried to shove their belongings and clothes back into their kit bags - disregarding the need to actually remove either of their football kits and instead just slipping their blazer over the top.
The pair still slightly red in the face and breathing deeply as they sifted through the crowd in the common area, weaving through the bodies and towards the gates - arms linked and followed by a small group of other girls who they shared a pitch with.
Georgia’s day had finished earlier, her school day ending in a blur. At lunchtime, her phone buzzed in her blazer pocket. A text from Leah asking Georgia if she wanted to play in a friendly five-a-side match with some of the girls from her team. though she said it in far fewer words, something along the lines of. ‘g!!! five-a-side on the field tonight!! meet me from school, I’ll introduce u to the girls. love u x’ and that was that.
Georgia was already outside the gates by the time the bell rang, headphones in and looking down at her phone. She had her kit on too, beneath her blazer. A backpack slung over her shoulder and hanging low on her back, it was full to the brim - most likely with her uniform scrunched and shoved in amongst the books.
When Leah, Keira and the other football girls had finally managed to break out of the crowd and through the gates - Leah called out and pulled the group in Georgia's direction, spotting the girl standing hunched against the wall. Once she was close enough to be noticed, Georgia removed her headphones and pulled Leah into a side hug and laughed when they collided.
"You're sweaty get off!" She laughed, nudging Leah away playfully and turning her attention to the rest of the girls. "I'm Georgia! it's lovely to meet you!"
Before Keira could reply she was being hugged, smiling at the unexpected contact and letting out a loose laugh as the group errupted into harmonizing laughs when leah called from ahead of them.
"She's a hugger girls!"
They all finished their greetings, exchanging names and 'How are you's before they started to move away from the school. The walk to the field wasn't far at all, maybe 15 minutes and Georgia seemed to fit straight into the crowd. Laughing and joking with everyone, making sure they were all equally included.
After five minutes though, Georgia and Keira had managed to drift away from the other girls. Stood in a two behind the group, laughing and talking about football. they shared their favourite players and discussed matches they had been to, each of them excited at the presence of a new ear to chew off. they shared embarrassing football moments and silly cards they had received. This continued until they had reached their destination, still chatting as they threw their bags onto the grass and began marking their 'goalposts.'
It felt strange to Keira, it had never been easy for her to make new friends. But weirdly, it didn't feel like she was making a new friend in Georgia. Instead, it was as if they had been friends for years.
The match was fun, full of laughter and cheers. By the time they had finished up, the other girls had said their goodbyes and made their way home. leaving Leah, Georgia and Keira alone on the grass. they sat there for a while, laughing and talking until they had to leave. accompanying each other on the walk home, where Keira made sure to take Georgia's number to stay in touch.
They spoke every day.
—————————
Keira had never felt this way about a group of people before, or honestly about anyone at all. She wasn't a sociable child and that wasn't a trait she really ever grew out of - but with Leah and Georgia, her ability (or lack thereof) to make friends seemed to wither away.
The first time they spent the day as just a trio was in the summer. It was hot, with little breeze to put them out of their misery. Sprawled out on a pitch of grass by the stone beach, which was far too hot and crowded to even think about finding a spot. But laying on mismatched towels beside each other and sharing a big bag of doritos was enough for them.
The group stayed like that for hours, laid on their towels and sharing the snacks that Georgia had provided. They laughed until their ribs hurt, and kicked a ball about until they were sure their knees would buckle.
The day was slowly slipping away, the sun now drifting below the horizon and a chill settling into the air. At the now lack of heat, the girls concluded it was time to walk home.
They walked together, sharing a bottle of water and stopping every few yards in fits of laughter. The walk would usually take 15 minutes, but between them, they had managed to extend the walk to 45.
Georgia and Leah decided to walk Keira home first, considering she lived closer and they wouldn't want her to walk even a street's length alone. They escorted her right up to the front door, sharing a hug and a passing kiss on the cheek before saying their final goodbyes.
Keira watched them walk away from her house through the window next to the door, smiling absentmindedly as they faded from view. Watching Leah's ponytail swing as she shook her head, presumably at some stupid comment Georgia had made, Keira couldn't help by stifle a small and breathy laugh from her lips.
"This is it." she thought briefly. these were her people.
—————————
Almost a year later and they were still as close as ever. Spending evenings after school and spare time on the weekends as a trio. whether that be in town, or at each other's houses.
On this day, however, they sat on a small patch of grass behind Georgia's house. All three of them adorned in mismatched football kits their parents had strung together. They sat in silence for a minute or two, heaving for breath as they lay sprawled out after an all too intense round of quickfire penalties.
In this silence Keira lay fidgeting with the blades of grass beside her, twisting them between her fingers and ripping them from the ground. She knew she could tell them anything. They would never judge, just listen. So she was confused as to why an anxious fire began to spread through her stomach, around her limbs and across the back of her neck as she sat up in the grass and turned her body to face the pair head-on.
Georgia was the first to notice the look on Keira's face, raising herself to rest on her elbows with her eyebrows furrowed. "Kei? What's wrong?"
Leah sat up next, removing her arm from across her face and moving to face Keira as well. "You okay?" She whispered softly.
Keira was silent for a few beats, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before she started speaking. "I need to tell you both something and I don't want you to think of me any differently and I don't want you to not want to talk to me or hang around with me anymore and I just-"
"Keira, woah, slow down." Leah was always logical, but she was also fiercely caring. She placed her hand gently atop of Keira's on the grass. "Slow down, nothing you could ever say will ever make us not want to speak to you!"
"Yeah Kei, never." Georgia iterated, smiling.
"I like girls." She whispered. Looking down at the grass beneath her, avoiding the eyes now fixated on her. It was silent between the group for a minute before Georgia spoke up.
"You're still Keira."
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stoneagedevil · 10 months ago
Text
Idiot | Eddie Munson x f!Reader
TW/CW: loneliness.
———
You’d been feeling down about yourself for some time now. You weren’t a cheerleader, but lately you’d been considering attending the tryouts for the semester. You’d even heard that girls in the band’s flute section were getting action from the brass section. Maybe you could pick up another instrument…?
No. No no no.
Christ, when did you become so desperate? Maybe it was all the twitterpated faces floating up and down the halls, what with the dance approaching and all.
But it’s not even like you wanted to go. You weren’t much of a dancer, but rather a person to get rowdy on stage at the Hideout when you played. That led to other thoughts…
You’d met Eddie Munson at the beginning of summer a few years ago. You were enthralled with his performance in his band Corroded Coffin, and he was just as lovestruck when he saw you go up with one of the most badass electric guitars he’d ever seen. After your set, you’d both gotten to talking at the bar - him buying you each a soda since you both had to drive home. That was the start of a wonderful friendship.
And unfortunately for your poor little heart, that’s all it was.
You sighed, taking a drag off a cig you found in your jeans you didn’t remember washing. Thank god for that. You looked over at the cheerleaders on the field practicing their routine from where you sat on the outside bleachers; trying to picture yourself in a cheer outfit mingling with them.
Suddenly you were startled by a loud, thundering metal sound coming from your right, nearly pulling your neck at the speed you looked over. It was Eddie - who just jumped onto the metal bleachers to illicit a reaction from his favorite person.
“Shit yourself?” He laughed, smile making his eye crinkle.
“Har har Munson.” You blew smoke at his face smirking slightly. He waved it away playfully.
“Watcha doin’ up here? Thought I’d find you in the art room, but you weren’t there.” He sat closely beside you.
You flicked the dead ash from the end of your cigarette. “Feelin’ melancholy I ‘spose…” you trailed off, leaning back on the seat behind you and looking up at the sky. Eddie quickly joined you.
“Why’re you sad? Need something stronger than that ciggy?” He reached into his inside pocket on his jacket and dug out a joint.
You eyed it for a second. “Nah. I’d better not.”
Eddie frowned. It wasn’t like you to turn down his premo stuff. It wasn’t like you to isolate yourself - especially away from him. He got nervous.
“Hey, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me, right?” He placed a hand on your knee, causing those stupid butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.
You debated a lot of things in that moment. You debated telling him you were in love with him. You debated shooting up from your position on the bleachers and pulling his face towards yours and kissing him. You debated running away, never to be seen or heard from again.
You took none of these options.
“I’m lonely, I guess. It’s hard seeing people get asked out to dances all of the time knowing that’s never coming to me. I wouldn’t even wanna go, but maybe if someone asked…I would? I don’t know. It’s stupid.” You sat up and looked down at your shoes.
Eddie looked at the side of your face. Maybe if he was brave enough he’d ask. Maybe if he was wealthy enough and you’d said yes, he’d get a suit and get you a corsage. Maybe if he wasn’t the town freak. Maybe in another life.
Maybe.
“Hey, it’s not dumb. I know how you feel. I’ve only really ever been asked out as a joke. But someone will come around and see how absolutely amazing and badass you are. Seriously.” He said this instead, even though it made his throat tighten at the tail end of his sentence.
You looked at him, and he let go of a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding captive. Your eyes swam with doubt, slightly damp.
“Eddie. I’m the freakette. Anyone who would ask me out is probably an idiot.” You said, somberly.
Suddenly, Eddie’s hand disappeared from its place on your knee, Eddie himself bolting up from the bleachers. “Hey! I know I’m a repeat but I’m not an idiot!” He said, sounding genuinely upset.
You paused, realization smacking you both upside the head. “You…you what?”
The color of Eddie’s face would make traffic stop. Fuck. Maybe he is an idiot. “I said that…that uh-“ his hands flew over his eyes, “that I’m not an idiot but now I’m thinkin’ I am because I’m pretty sure I just ruined the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Your heart sped up in your chest, your face blushing. “You…like me?”
Eddie, hands still covering his embarrassment, sighed. “I mean, like you? No. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you when we met. Christ. Look-“ he removed his hands from his face, instead wringing them together, “if you give me time then maybe I could get over it. We can pretend this never happened, I just- I just need you in my life, whatever way that looks like.” His eyes looked down at his shoes now.
You shook your head, mouth agape at what you were hearing. You debated a lot of things in that moment. Then, you went with the best option.
You stood, walking calmly towards him, taking his burning face in your cold hands and lifted it. He looked down at you, shocked, and slightly scared. Definitely nervous.
You leaned in and kissed him then, him returning the favor. Once separated, you backed up, “Eddie, I don’t want you to get over me.”
His smile looked like it’d break his face in half, “Good. Because I was totally lying about my ability to get over you. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.” You laughed and he joined, happy to have made you smile. “I know it isn’t a big dance proposal, but, would you wanna go out? With me?” He had to specify. He just had to.
“Id love to go out with my favorite idiot.” You smiled cheekily. Eddie burst out into laughter, picking you up and hugging you tightly.
“If I can be your idiot, then an idiot I’ll be.” He declared, kissing you once more.
———
Thanks for reading, I’ve been in a slump lately, so I hope this was good.
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s-4pphics · 10 months ago
Text
first vi brainrot
… heyyyy arcaners 😋
getting back into writing after like a month LOL art by lottie-lot :3 @trackinglessons
fck you free palestine. 
WORD COUNT: not eem 1k just some plotting 
CONTENT: rugbyplayer!vi, femcel!oc… is she deranged or is she in love who knows fr, a lil horny, brief mentions or familial death/grief
rugbyplayer!vi who’s loved dearly. . . 
shines brighter than the sun whenever she enters the room; makes every person she comes across glow with her charisma, her laughter. she’s so polite and gracious. people can’t help but gravitate towards her radiance. 
no one would’ve ever guessed the turmoil she experienced before moving to her college town. loneliness was no longer comforting. the silence she was once eased by brought forth distress she couldn’t control.��
rugbyplayer!vi who moved through university like a ghost who never crossed over. only left noticeable tracks in the smiles she gave people before vanishing to nothingness in her room. 
rugbyplayer!vi who had no idea what rugby was. only got introduced to it at a bar where matches played on the tv screen above as she sipped her drink in silence. it seemed like watered-down football and made her nose turn up. 
who would’ve thought she’d be at her university’s rugby tryouts a few months later. one poorly made sign with every single one of her crushes in shorts and she ended up with her heels in the wet dirt, nerve wracked in front of both coaches. only then did she realize how out of shape she’s gotten. sports were her escape in high school, but the loss of her sibling destroyed her. crumbled every aspiration she ever had into dust that buried her baby sister. 
when she first got recruited, she was fearful. how would she ever be able to focus on practice when she’s surrounded by people she’s desired to emulate? they’re strong and resilient and quick; she’s leagues behind them in terms of skill and she knows it. her brain discourages her like no other. 
rugbyplayer!vi who was relentless the first few months of training. the aches in her thighs and the salt leaking from her pores and into her eyes did nothing but motivate her, distract her, drive her to do more. to reach where her peers sat comfortably at the top. she pushed so much that she called out of class multiple times; she couldn’t fucking walk. 
it took seven ruthless months to get where she wanted to be. seven months of self-doubt, of quitting and forcing herself to retry. her teammates believed in her more than she believed in herself. whenever she struggled, they were right behind her, carrying whatever weight her limbs couldn’t support. 
her teammates swiftly became her family. . . not a day goes by where she doesn’t miss her sister. 
it’s been a year since her recruitment. . . her exhaustion finally paid off in wins and meticulous tackles of her opponents. the sport aids her aggression, keeps her attention off of her damaged past for hours as she rides the high of a successor. whenever she walks onto the field she’s cocky, ego blasted to the clouds because she knows people are there for her; every time her cleats sink into the dirt, she’s home. 
it’s a rush she can’t explain. she loves this fucking game. 
. . . but you love her more. 
it’s not an obsession. you’re observant. you enjoy watching people. . . do things. you feel socialized whenever you study the joy, the grief, the yearn individuals exude through their behavior. you don't feel as lonely. almost connected to yourself through other people. 
when you first met rugbyplayer!vi, it was through a window during sophomore year. 
sat on a beanbag on the second floor of the library, completely distracted from your coursework, you gawked down as she conversed and smiled and laughed with people you didn’t know but wished to. rugbyplayer!vi captivated you like no other. education be damned. you’d drop everything for her at that moment if she asked. 
you’re not stalking her. it’s not your fault that wherever she is, you are. call it fate. you never say a word. simply stand off to the side and crave and think and fantasize. your mind is sinister. 
rugbyplayer!vi is the sun. you’re a moth, shadowing wherever light trails. 
witnessing her rugby career develop was a blessing. you’re always in the stands, hiding in plain sight from her. the muscles in her legs and arms are much larger than when she first started; they flex whenever she snags and throws the ball. pummels other women to the ground. lifts her shirt to wipe her sweat. clenches her fist when she’s angry. what you'd give to ease her tension. 
how can you not love her? everything she embodies is perfect. every cell that crafts her being is godsend. 
you crave to be in her presence. but you can’t. 
people are turned off by you. you’re not sure why, but you’re always alone, comforted by the repulsive compartments of your brain. the voice that encourages you to detach. 
so, you go where there’s no judgment. dump all your thoughts of the love of your life where no one can find you. where she can’t find you. forever undiscovered. forever anonymous. 
REDDIT.
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thisapplepielife · 5 months ago
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.
Just Have to Feel It
Day #9 - Prompt: The Hideout | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: None | Tags: Getting Started, First Gig at The Hideout
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"I'm fourteen," Gareth says, stressing that last part, just in case they've all forgotten.
"Yeah, we're all well aware of that, kid," Eddie answers, smirking.
And that's not a problem? Fourteen-year-olds don't go to bars. Not even in small towns. It's just not done.
"And that's not a problem, you don't think?" Gareth asks aloud, looking at the rest of them. They're all kids. Maybe Eddie isn't, but the rest of them are. And they are never, ever gonna pass for over eighteen. Jeff has braces, for fuck's sake.
"Lou said he'd look the other way as long as we don't do anything stupid. Stay away from the booze and the bar floor, and we can play on Tuesday. As a tryout, I guess," Eddie says.
His mom is never gonna go for this. Mama Jones is cool, but she's not allow her middle schooler in a bar, especially not on a weeknight, cool. Gareth damn well knows that without even asking.
Well, he was wrong and now his mom is sitting near the edge of the cobbled together stage at The Hideout. Holy shit. They're actually getting ready to do it. They're gonna play for an actual crowd. A small crowd. A very, very small crowd of about a dozen drunks that keep booing them and heckling. before they've even heard anything. This might have been a terrible idea, Gareth is pretty sure. But he'll go along with it, because Eddie wants to try this. See if they can actually play live together, outside of the garage or a school talent show. 
But getting booed? Having shit thrown at them before they've even started? Gareth's not sure he signed up for that. 
So, it's an understatement to say that Gareth's nervous, but he cracks his sticks together counting them in, and away they go. Eddie made the decision to have them play covers only, which is probably the best move they could make. These assholes are never gonna want to hear their original songs, but maybe, just maybe they'll tolerate some covers of things they already know.
The band comes in, on time, and together and that's the first hurdle to clear, honestly.
Gareth's not sure they sound good, but they don't sound terrible. They sound inexperienced and, well, scared. Even Eddie's being reserved, and if he doesn't kick it into high gear, they're gonna be run out of here, for sure. 
Someone throws a can, and Eddie ducks, which sends it straight towards Gareth. He reaches up on reflex, catches it, and throws it back, hardly missing anything.
Eddie turns to look at him, eyes wide. 
Gareth knew playing little league would come in handy someday, he just never guessed this would be the reason. 
And the crowd gets behind this act of defiance, even if Mama Jones looks mortified that her child would do such a thing. 
He just retaliated, he didn't start this shit. 
That puffs Eddie up a little bit, and he takes command of the stage in a way he hadn't yet. He's still a lanky kid, Gareth knows that, but at least he looks like they might belong on this stage, as shitty as it is.
They finish their first song, and the only positive reinforcement is from Mama Jones. She's clapping, and Gareth would be embarrassed if it wasn't so welcomed to hear at least one person enjoying themselves.
Everyone else is kind of being assholes at worst, or indifferent at best. 
They loosen up for their second and third songs, then by the time they've hit their final one, the crowd is at least refraining from hurling things at them.
Gareth supposes that's a win. 
Lou gives them the Tuesday slot, which makes Gareth wonder who the hell they had playing there before them. Because there definitely wasn't a clamoring to keep them on the stage, or get them back for another round, he's sure.
Eddie makes the deal, and then helps Gareth load his drums back into his mom's car while the rest of them pile into Eddie's van. 
When he slides into the passenger seat, his mom looks over at him.
"You were good, I'm proud of you boys," she says, and Gareth rolls his eyes, but is secretly happy with the compliment, down deep.
But, she let him do this, and he should be nicer, "Thanks for letting me do it. It was fun."
"I'll have to have a talk with Eddie, if you boys are going to do this every week. I don't know that I'll always be able to come."
"I'll be good," he says, and he means that. Eddie already treats him like a little kid, and he can't imagine that's gonna change in a bar, where he's under his care.
"You and Goodie sure sounded good together," she says, turning back on the highway.
He turns to look at her, "What?"
"You're the rhythm section, right?"
"Well, yeah. Sure."
"You worked together very well," she says, and Gareth laughs, harder than he means to, and she looks at him, questioning.
"Goodie and I never work together well," he admits, "He picks on me all the time."
"Well, you make nice music together. Maybe you'll learn to get along."
That seems unlikely. 
However, he does trust his mom's opinion on music. She gave private lessons for years. Not only piano, but other instruments, too. She's definitely where he gets his music from. Not his dad. Well, at least not that he knows of. It's not like he knows much about him.
But his mom? She's musical. She probably could have made it a career if she hadn't had him, and decided to stay in Hawkins to raise him.
"You really think so?" he asks.
"Definitely. That can't be taught, you just have to feel it together, and he got right in the pocket with you."
Maybe playing every week at The Hideout will make that flourish. Maybe they will be a real band. Holy shit.
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
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sensei-venus · 1 year ago
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I was just thinking about this because of Ralphs birthday.
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Cheerleader AU! Where both Daniel and Johnny end up being on the cheerteam at school. They both hate each other because they want to be “the guy” on the cheerleading team. They constantly argue in front of the team. Trying to get the same role for practice and games. It gets physical so many times that the coaches have to pull them off of each other.
Daniel always ends up walking of with Ali and Susie.
While Johnny sneers at him, throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder and walking off with the cobras.
Then one day Reader moves to town, with a big smile she comes to the football field after school looking to try out for the team. She talks with the coaches telling them she was on her last schools cheerteam. She knows the team has already had tryouts for the year but in her defense it was still the beginning school year. Doing the most she could she gives them puppy dog eyes as she asks to join the team. The coaches step away for a quick chat with each other. They admit that one of the girls from last year transferred out last minute leaving a spot open. With that being said they go back and tell Reader she's in.
She practically skips across the field to meet everyone. She's so excited to be on a new team and meet new people.
Most of the girls are really nice to her but some of them start giving her the side eye pretty quickly. They take notice of the fact that's shes a bit bigger than most of the other girls on the team. She is curvy and chubby, most of the other girls are either super athletic or on the skinny side. Mentally they question what position she is going to take on the team. Reader chats with some of the girls, hoping to get to know them a bit better.
Daniel and Johnny are on the side just watching her talk to the other girls. Both of them are taking her in. They can't help but look her figure over, she's curvy in all the right places and it catches their attention right off the bat.
Johnny can't stop himself from watching her ass bounce around with every little step she makes.
Daniel can't get over the way wide fluffy hips sway back and forth with every move.
This time instead of getting into each other's faces they stand next to each other unmoving. Johnny smirks as his eyes are trained on her Reader’s ass “ Your scrawny ass definitely can't pick her up, just give up and leave her to me.” he borderline hisses out. Daniel scoffs “Yeah well I could probably cover her better anyway, pretty boy.” Johnny grinds his teeth at the small boy's words.
Their rivalry only seems to grow now that they both have their eyes set on the new thick cheerleader on the team.
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brodygold · 1 day ago
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Because He’s Hot
(All characters are 18+)
Jared was never one for sports. Or people in general for that matter. He was a shy introvert among shy introverts. Being gay made things even worse in his small, tight knit community. He was expected to look and act a certain way, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was a true outcast and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Being in his senior year of high school, he couldn’t wait to move away and never see anyone here again.
Sometimes though, life doesn’t give you what you want. As Jared sat outside at the bus stop on his way home, a stranger came up and sat down next to him. Grumbling to himself, Jared turned to look at him.
“Damn,” he thought. “He’s hot.”
The stranger was everything Jared liked in a guy: tall, athletic (if the shiny gold soccer jersey he had on meant anything), and had a great smile that could light up any room. His smile was so warm and welcoming, Jared almost forget he was going to tell the guy to leave him alone.
“Hey there. Name’s Brody. This bus heading to the soccer field?”
Jared gulped, not remembering how to form words for a second. He normally wasn’t one for talking to strangers, but thought he might as well answer him. Brody was hot after all.
“Oh. Um. Yeah. It does.”
“Great. Thanks man. I was supposed to catch a ride with my teammates but had something come up. You going to the field for tryouts?”
Oh that’s right. Jared remembered the jocks at school mentioning something about that. How some group called the Golden Army was in town holding tryouts to get people to join. There was no way he’d be caught dead around that group though. Right?
“I’m good, thanks. It’s not really my scene.”
“That’s alright bro. What is your scene?”
Jared paused and looked away at that. Well he tried to at least. Brody’s perfect smile was still drawing him in. God, those lips looked so kissable.
“Don’t really have one…” he eventually squeaked out.
“Well, if you want to, we’d love to have you, bro. We could be your scene. You could be a real bro.”
The idea almost made Jared laugh. Him, a bro and a jock? Who knew this handsome man was also funny? Still, a thought creeped into his mind. If he tried out, he could avoid his annoying parents and see this stud even longer.
“Might as well. What do I have to lose?”
Brody clapped Jared on the back. Jared blushed at the contact. “That’s the spirit bro! I got the perfect thing for you actually.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a golden jersey, shimmering in the sunlight. He held it out to Jared, who took it in his hands. It was so soft, almost melting in his hands.
Was he really about to put on this jersey just because some guy told him to?
Yeah, because he’s hot, Jared thought as he put it on over his hoodie.
He felt a tingle as soon as he put it on. He didn’t notice how his hoodie and ripped jeans vanished and turned into a pair of black soccer shorts, leaving him slightly chilly in the crisp fall air. Nor did he notice his skinny arms and legs becoming filled with muscle or his chest becoming two pillow pecs. His shaggy hair become a perfect sporty cut, the color turning from blonde to brown.
He was too busy staring at Brody and his smile. He certainly didn’t notice Brody’s eyes glow bright gold, drawing him in even more.
Jared memories and mannerisms disappeared the more he stared. The quiet, nerdy, outcast of a guy turned into a true social butterfly, hanging out with his bros any chance he got, on or off the field. Even the name Jared felt like a distant memory, being replaced with Jackson, a perfect name for a hot jock.
Brody’s eyes finally stopped their golden glow, a knowing smile on his face.
“You ready for tryouts, Jackson?”
“Hell yeah, Captain bro! Let’s go!”
Jackson felt so pumped for tryouts and knew with Brody by his side, the two could accomplish anything.
Why? Because they’re hot!
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mikefrawley · 8 months ago
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It's all About Forgiveness Mike (04-06-24)
I'm not quite sure why just yet, but today for me was my first ever be good to Mike Day. It was a beautiful Spring Day here in South Florida and I just knew it was time to spoil myself, which is an action I haven't taken in a very long time. Before I get into this story too deep, I want to pause a moment and thank my many friends for your love and support as I've started taking baby steps on a path I've been afraid to walk and addressing some inner child issues which have troubled me for most of my life, Okay, back to spoiling myself, but first I really want let all of you know just how much I love and appreciate you. Thank you! So, where was I? It was early Saturday Morning and I took a nice leisurely drive to the nicest Publix in town for my weekly shopping, and I realized that it was time to stop living like an active addict who can barely pay the rent and enjoy life a little bit. So, aside from the usual groceries I also bought some gourmet k-cups of coffee to share with my friends at work and took a different way home so I could tryout a new Starbucks which is my weekly splurge. Then armed with my Vanilla Latte I returned home and relaxed for a bit. At home I wrote a new poem which as is the case with many of us here is my true love. After finishing I just felt like getting out of the house and enjoying my day. I haven't bought a new book for myself in well over twenty years, so I decided to take a mini road trip to Barnes and Noble. After leisurely browsing a bit, I grabbed an excellent book by my favorite teacher, author, and poet, Thich Nhat Hanh, or Thay (teacher in Vietnamese) as he is known. The title is ZEN AND THE ART OF SAVING THE PLANET. After that I must confess I did go over the top a bit and stopped by a second Starbucks which was right next door and treated myself to another fancy coffee. Hey, as I said, it was be good to Mike Day. Sunday I leisurely sat outside reading my new book, meditating and just enjoying the moments as they passed. Please forgive me if this is a bit boring but my wish is that someone else suffering with self-destructive thoughts and feelings, may realize that they too are good enough and very much worthy of love. Well I guess that's enough (too much), but please do remember that you are indeed much loved!
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teddypickerry · 1 year ago
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Hi!! if you’re still doing requests would you do a loralie gilmore x fem reader one? maybe where they bond over liking metallica (sorry chris lmao) and their friendship turns into a relationship?
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍.
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pairings — fem! reader x lorelai gilmore
word count — 876
warnings — literally just fluffy + flirty lorelai
a/n — first of all, never apologize to chris. secondly… WHAT UP MFS (saying that like i didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for a hot min) hope this tiny little blurb did you justice, i thought it was just cute. love you guys. thank you for messaging me + sending requests lately. you guys rock.
THE TOWN OF STARS HOLLOW was on the brink of Autumn, yet the sun was mistaking the New England town for a tropical paradise. Except the sun didn't accept the idea of paradise. Not with the continuous heat waves that had the town meetings cancelled and air conditioners blasting. Not a single long sleeve in sight despite it being the first day of September.
"This feels like a joke. This has to be a joke, right?" Lorelai Gilmore mutters as she walks down the side walk, fanning herself with her hand while trailing around in her heeled boots that felt like personal hell. Her best friend, Sookie, stood to her right wiping the bead of sweat from her forehead. "If it is, this is the cruelest joke ever."
The two regretted their walk from the Dragonfly Inn almost instantly and that thought only deepened as they walked the towns streets. Luke's seemed so far away and they were ready to give up.
"Watch out!" A voice called from the town square, as the two woman turned to see a ball coming in their direction. Lorelai moved out of the way and Sookie quickly followed, the ball nearly taking out their necks. A woman came jogging over and stopped with a quick glance at the two of them, grabbing the ball and tossing it into her arms. "Oh, sorry. That kid is not ready for soccer tryouts.”
Lorelai locked eyes with the woman who stood before her, wearing a pair of sneakers with shorts and a cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She looked like she somehow didn't break a sweat. Despite her athletic efforts. "Where did you come from, the freezer section?" Lorelai asks.
The unknown woman rubs her lips together before motioning over to the kid standing in the grass across the road. "My niece has shitty aim," She says with a quick smile.
"Well we can't all be... a… soccer player," Lorelai mutters as she realizes she doesn't know the name of a singular athletic star.
"Are you new around here?" Sookie asks the girl curiously as she searches her purse for her sunscreen. Y/N only nodded in response, "Just visiting my sister. She owns the boutique down the road."
"Oh yeah, I like going in there. It's like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I never know what's gonna happen in there," Lorelai chuckles as the woman only nods along. "Cool t-shirt, by the way."
"Metallica fan?" Y/N asks as she eyes her for a moment, noticing the pink tank top with a puppy on it. She found it hard to believe that this smiley woman would be fond of Kirk Hammett.
"Great band," Lorelai nods.
"They know how to play a tune or two," Y/N comments with a quick smirk making Lorelai smile. Clearly enjoying their little talk and what Y/N said next. "It's not too often I run into a pretty Metallica fan."
Lorelai smiles sweetly at those words making Sookie have to hide her smile of excitement with her hand. Before making an excuse to leave the two alone. "I'm gonna head to Luke's before I become bacon out here... nice meeting you."
Y/N gives her a nod as she walks past her, leaving Lorelai stood infront of her and only her. "Yeah, I'll meet you there."
She tossed the ball back over towards her niece who went back to kicking it around the gazebo. Lorelai's eyes still on her as she did so. Enjoying her figure in the summer clothing. "Well I should probably get back to her..."
"Yeah," Lorelai gives her a nod as she breaks out of the trance and looks over at the kid. "She's a cute kid."
"She is," Y/N nods as she gives Lorelai another look once her head turned. "Listen... I'm gonna be in town for a while."
"Oh?" The Inn owner says, obviously too awkward to mumble out something witty as per usual. Y/N nodded before licking her lips. "Yeah, I'll see you around?"
"Yep. It's Stars Hollow; we see everyone and everything. Not in a creepy way... but in a like, we're always looking. God, that sounded very opening scene of Halloween," Lorelai smiles awkwardly before chuckling away her nerves.
"Great movie," Y/N comments with a quick smile as she glanced down at the empty coffee cup Lorelai was holding. Questioning why she was on her second cup of hot coffee on a day like this... but noticing the sharpie'd name written on the side. "…Lorelai."
Lorelai furrows her eyebrows with another soft chuckle. "So you're stalker Michael Myers."
"No, I'm just a girl who can read," Y/N motions to the coffee cup with a nice smirk. Lorelai feels a grin grow at that as she looks over at the woman. "I'll see you later, Lorelai."
"You too, Y/N." Lorelai hums as she watches her head toward the street before turning to her with a confused look. Lorelai only grins as she starts walking to the coffee shop, "I can read too."
Y/N thinks for a moment as she crossed the street and walked back over to her niece. Noticing the ball by her feet. 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N'
"Well, damn."
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jupitersnewmoon · 2 months ago
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Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han?
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Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...Han? - Minsung Spiderman/College AU
ଳ Jisung likes to think he's very good at keeping his identity a secret but Minho can recognize that waist anywhere.
ଳ chapter 2 - The Amazing Spider-Man and His Even Better Waist
ଳ cw - depictions of v!olence, swearing, gays being gays, Jisung is kind of a stalker, light angst because I'm a wuss, hurt/comfort, no smut... unless, a little corny, minsung, changlix, hyunbin
ଳ previous chapter - next chapter
The sun had started to set as Minho made his way back home from the dance studio. With the upcoming showcase Minho had a tendency to work himself to the bone. As one of the team's captains he felt he needed to constantly be at his best so he can help those around him. Despite the countless hours of staring himself down in the giant mirror going over every move over and over and over again until he physically couldn’t take it anymore, he adored what he did. Dancing wasn’t just a hobby to him, it was his everything. You could see it in the way he walked, the way he gestured, even the way he breathed. Everything he did had a certain flow to it, some (Jisung) would say a certain elegance. Dancing was bound to become a part of his very being for the start. He’s been doing it since he was a child and hasn’t stopped since. 
One day he hopes to open his own studio, probably in some small town somewhere safe and quiet where he could teach dance lessons. He would have classes for adults and kids and really anyone who wanted to learn. God did he love teaching. There's a certain satisfaction he gets from helping someone do something as simple as nailing a move or as grand as teaching them difficult choreography from start to finish. Taking people under his wing and morphing them into the best dancers they can possibly be gives him a high like no other. Who needs drugs when you can take a shy uncertain dancer and make them extraordinary? 
That’s one of the reasons he’s come to love Jeongin so much so fast. Jeongin is a sophomore and just recently joined his team. From the second Minho saw him at tryouts he knew Jeongin was going to turn into something phenomenal. They’ve only been working together for a few weeks and Felix is already gushing over the fact that Jeongin is starting to dance like Minho. Him and Hyunjin have started calling Jeongin Minho’s kid and while Minho pretends to be annoyed with it, everyone can see the proud smile he tries oh so hard to hide. 
Jeongin reminds Minho a lot of himself. Especially with how the kid is when it comes to practicing. Minho had to basically beg the kid to go home after practice was over. Jeongin had whined and complained but Minho told him he needed to get rest and not overwork himself. Hyunjin had pointed out how Minho was going to stay later and do the exact same thing he was telling Jeongin not to do but Minho just rolled his eyes and told them to shoo. In order to console a very disappointed Jeongin, Hyunjin and Felix took him out for dinner while Minho stayed behind. They promised Minho they’d bring him something back if he was home before the sun had set. Minho had a bad habit of staying until the late hours of the night and despite their efforts, Hyunjin and Felix couldn’t drag him out of that studio no matter how hard they tried. And boy did they try. Despite Hyunjins slight height advantage and Felix’s puppy dog eyes, no one was a match for Minho. Mostly because the little shit was not afraid to bite. So they turned to bribery, and that worked thousands of times better. 
Minho put on his headphones and started his journey home. He lived in an apartment in the city with Felix and Hyunjin. During Minho’s freshman and sophomore year he had downright dastardly roommates. During his freshman year he roomed with two other guys who in spite of being turned down by every fraternity their school offered, they still acted like stereotypical douchebag frat guys. In all their months of sharing a space Minho doesn’t think he saw them sober once. And while he can understand the urge to inhale anything that looks like he won’t remember the next few days, there had to be a line somewhere. Unfortunately for him the only line they knew of was white and powdery, and probably laced with fentanyl. 
He spent many nights with his noise canceling headphones on full blast trying to drown out whatever party they were throwing on some random weeknight. His sophomore year roommate was less annoying and more… creepy. Minho knows he’s not exactly the gold standard for your typical sane person but damn was the dude strange. Minho truly has no place to judge people for being a little odd but the dude had figurines in a jar. Minho had walked into his room to ask the guy something and when he saw the jars he innocently asked about them. The guy had referred to them as “snow globes” but it was safe to say that it was definitely not water in those mason jars. Minho still can’t see Rainbow Dash without shuddering a little. 
During his junior year Minho lived alone in a small studio apartment. While it was nice to get 8 hours of sleep and not be suspicious of every cup in the kitchen, he had started to feel a little lonely. Minho greatly valued his alone time and most of the time preferred to be unbothered, but it was really easy to isolate himself. And since there was no one around to judge him, he could spend his days binging anime and rotting in his living room that only contained a centuries old pullout couch and a t.v that stood on an empty ikea box. He had begged his parents to let him bring his cats, Soonie, Doongie, and Dori, to live with him so he would have some motivation to do more than just rot. His parents finally caved and while they helped greatly Minho figured it would be better if he roomed with someone for his final year at college. Mostly so they could hold him accountable and actually make him go to class. Senioritis was a bitch in high school and it’s even worse in college. 
He had met Hyunjin and Felix when the 2 were freshmen and they clicked very quickly. While they weren’t there to help him stand up to the frat boys, they were there to help him cope with the freaky brony. And towards the end of Minho’s junior year they ended up basically living at Minho’s place, once he got the cats of course. So it came as no surprise when they ended up all living together for Minho’s senior year and he wouldn't have it any other way. Even with Hyunjin being allergic to cats they’ve found ways to make it work and Minho can proudly say he has not seen any jars with any questionable substances nor any mysterious white lines, outside of Felix baking of course. So he would consider it a big win. 
As Minho got further and further into the city something felt extremely off. While it was suspicious that the city looked like it had been torn apart and there were a bunch of abandoned and even flipped over cars, that wasn’t the biggest oddity. Minho felt incredibly alone. Usually on his walk back home there seemed to be a sort of… presence that would follow him. At first it had him looking over his shoulder constantly thinking he was about to get jumped but as the months have passed it’s become quite comforting. He hasn’t told anyone about it though, he’s scared they’d send him to the ward, which would be understandable. Whether he has a guardian angel or a stalker he’s not exactly sure, but right now he misses the feeling of someone keeping an eye on him. Especially as the closer he gets home, the more the city looks like it was torn to shreds.
Just about everyone else on this Earth would turn around and head to safety, but damn does Minho just want to lay down and wait for his friends to get back with food. He’s been in classes all day and just spent hours practicing the same damn 8 count, if he dies then shit, he dies. His obituary will have ‘missed his couch and his cats’ as the cause of death and he’s okay with that. 
Now the smart thing for Minho to do would be to take off his headphones or at least pause his music so he can listen for any danger. But he’s currently bumping Ariana Grande’s ‘One Last Time’ and if he’s going out, he’s going out listening to a banger. 
Minho does however start to quicken his pace the more he ponders about all the ways he could possibly, for the lack of a better term, get gotten. He can’t even begin to think of what could have possibly caused this much destruction and he really doesn’t want to meet it. Minho did years of taekwondo but he’s not exactly sure if he could crescent kick his way to safety. Mainly because he’s seen about 2 cars flipped upside down and one through the window of a shop. He believes if whatever did this can flip a 2 thousand pound car, they could probably flip him like a pancake. 
Minho’s brisk walk turns into a little jog as his apartment comes into view. The feeling of impending doom starts to really set as he gets to the entrance. He skips a few steps up the stairs and heads for the door. Before Minho can start punching in code he starts to feel the ground beneath him shake. Minho looks down at his feet and tilts his head confusingly, as if his shoes are going to give him all the answers. The shaking becomes more aggressive and the keys on his lanyard start to rattle slightly.
Minho lets out a short laugh and mutters, “Um he’s right behind me isn’t he?” 
He laughs quietly to himself again, trying to calm himself down as his current anxiety levels could be compared to someone being hunted for sport. He thinks briefly about how Hyunjin would’ve laughed at the corny line and finds himself missing his boys. He hopes they return soon, and he hopes they bring back the pudding he likes. 
The thought of his friends helps to calm him down some so he turns around to check if the coast is clear. When he turns he meets the fiery gaze of what seems to be a deranged man with tentacles running at him full speed.
 Minho is quite known for his fast reflexes but all systems in his brain seem to shut down as the cyborg octopus grabs a neon blue kia soul and seemingly prepares to launch it at him. Minho’s fight or flight kicks in and seeing as he is currently planted in his spot, he guesses his brain chose to fight. Minho wracks his brain for any taekwondo moves he could use against the man that looks like he came straight out of a really bad hentai, but nothing seems to stick out. 
Before Minho can start planning his funeral he catches the glimpse of something flying towards him on his right side. He whips his head to the side and sees Spider-Man coming to the rescue. In the blink of an eye Minho is brought into Spider-Man’s arms. His legs instinctively wrap around the hero's waist as his arms snake around his neck. Due to the impact of the strange hug thing they have going on, his wireless headphones get knocked off his head. He curses to himself as he watches them fall 500 feet in the air and only then does it register to Minho how high up he currently is and how they’re only getting higher. His grip tightens around the hero as his thoughts start running a million miles a second. 
‘Oh my god we’re so high up, holy shit we’re so high up! Oh no I think I’m getting motion sick. Oh dear god I can’t throw up on Spider-Man. If this fucking spider drops us I’m gonna be so pissed. Oh please don’t drop us! I think if I hold onto him any tighter he’s gonna start suffocating. Can’t risk him passing out so I won’t hold his neck tighter I guess. Maybe I could wrap my legs tighter…damn Spider-Man’s waist is small. Who the fuck said that? My final thoughts can not be about some dude's waist, no matter how whorish it is. Oh my god if I die, who will take care of my babies!? Those webs better be strong as fuck I have children to raise!’
As if the hero can hear his thoughts, he tries to comfort Minho as best as he can. Due to Spider-Man needing both of his hands to web-sling him and Minho to safety, he slightly nuzzles his head against Minho’s in an attempt to comfort him.
“I know it’s high up but don’t worry we’re almost there.” Spider-Man whispers reassuringly. 
Maybe it was the proximity or reassuring words or the deep tone Spider-Man used, but Minho was very grateful that the hero couldn’t see his face at that moment. The reddening of his ears might give the hero a slight implication of how he feels, but how red his face is currently would be a dead giveaway. Minho has half a mind to wonder how Spider-Man knew of his immense fear of heights but the thought quickly dissipated along with the others that had been plaguing his mind. While the fear was still there, he couldn’t help but feel safe in the hero’s arms. Maybe more than he should. He did just meet the guy only a few minutes ago yet he somehow trusted him immensely. All he knew about Spider-Man was that he was 1 a hero, 2 he sounds to be around his age, and 3 he has a slutty waist. 
Minho faintly shakes his head trying to shake the hero’s waist from his brain and opts to lay his head in the crook of the hero’s neck. If he was questioned about it he would just tell them it was so he didn’t have to see how high up they were… no other reason. 
The closer the pair got to the sirens the more the off brand hentai mechanical octopus seemed to fall back. Minho wants to ask why the robo cephalopod is currently chasing them down and where he even came from but he decides it’s best not to distract the hero while he is mid-saving his ass. 
Due to Minho’s position he has a perfect view of the villain and watches as he gets slower and slower. While he’s happy he won’t have to be in the middle of a showdown between the entire police department, Spider-Man, and some shitty Koro-sensei cosplayer, he is worried about him getting away. The guy obviously had it out for Minho if the Kia Soul he almost got gotten with had anything to say about it. He just really did not want to run into, or well away from this guy again. However if he gets to be wrapped up around the hero maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. 
With the police department finally coming into view, the villain had decided to call it a night and turned around. Minho and Spider-Man continued their way towards the group of law enforcement and medical personnel. A few of the cop cars took off toward the deranged man and followed him back into the heart of the city. Minho was sure the villain would eventually lose them and hide away until his next attack. Before he could even start to stress about the man’s return he felt himself start to slowly descend towards the ground. 
Spider-Man had planted himself back on the ground with Minho still wrapped around him. The hero placed his hands underneath Minho’s thighs and Minho took it as a cue to slowly lower himself onto the ground. Spider-Man’s hands trace from his thighs to his waist and let’s them linger there. With Minho’s hands still wrapped around the hero’s neck, he stares into his masked eyes for a few seconds in silence. 
“Are you okay?” The hero whispers, trying to not break the moment. 
“I am now,” Minho replies, smirking at the man.  
Despite the mask covering the hero’s face Minho swears he can see Spider-Man’s face light up in surprise.
“You know, you really should be more careful. You could have really gotten hurt,” Spider-Man tried to lecture after regaining his composure, but his voice was too breathless to hold any real power.
“Well it’s a good thing you were there to save me, huh?” Minho questions, tilting his head slightly and slowly moving his hands from the hero’s neck down to his biceps.
Spider-Man shivers slightly at the sensation and grips Minho’s waist just a little tighter.
“Hmm, but what if I’m not there the next time you get yourself into trouble?” The hero breathed.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t come save me if I ever got into trouble again?” Minho asks with a fake pout.
The hero pauses for a second and says, “I’ll always save you.”.
Minho’s pout quickly turns into a charming smile but before he can continue this game with the hero they hear the rushed footsteps of people fastly approaching. Spider-Man and Minho reluctantly let go of each other as medical personnel speed toward them. The paramedics offer to check out Spider-Man for any damage but the hero politely denies any help. He does however insist Minho should get a check up just in case. Minho agrees and starts walking towards the medics vehicle while Spider-Man turns in the other direction. Minho watches Spider-Man’s waist, or no not waist just Spider-Man walk away and calls out to him.
“Thank you Spider-Man!”
Minho swears he can see a bright smile from underneath the mask as the hero nods his head and web-slings off into the distance. 
The medics take a look at Minho but don’t find anything concerning. They let him know he’ll probably just be shaken up for the next few days and may have some trouble sleeping but overall he was perfectly fine. For some reason Minho feels a sense of pride due to how good Spider-Man was at keeping him safe. He pushes the thought away and thanks them for their time. 
Once Minho leaves the vehicle he decides it is probably best to update his roommates on what has transpired. He pulls out his phone and dials Felix’s number. 
“Hey Min what’s up!?” Felix greets him. 
“Felix, you're never going to believe what just happened.”
“Wait hold on, this sounds good, let me put you on speaker so Jinnie and Innie can hear!” 
“Hi Minho!” Jeongin and Hyunjin greet him excitedly. 
“Hi boys! So the craziest thing just happened, basically I’m on my way home from the studio-“ Minho explains the bulk of the story adding little sound effects to really set the scene. 
“Oh my god Minho are you okay!?” Felix questions worry evident in his tone. 
“Yeah yeah I’m fine but let me get to the good part!” 
“Are you hurt at all? Did they take you to a hospital? Where are you right now” Felix rambles, growing more anxious by the second. 
“Lix I promise I’m okay the paramedics gave me a checkup and I’m all good! Now please I need to tell someone about that man’s waist or I’m gonna fucking implode!”
“Are you sure you’re totally fine? We can head back now and come take care of you! Oh my god we shouldn’t have let you stay at the studio-“ 
“FELIX SHH I WANNA HEAR ABOUT SPIDER-MAN’S WAIST!” Hyunjin being nosy as ever interrupts Felix’s mental breakdown. 
Felix promptly stops his rambling and Minho can picture Joengin comforting Felix while Hyunjin gets closer to the phone to not miss a single detail. 
“I kid you not I think if I wrapped my hands around his waist my fingertips could almost touch!”
“You lie!” Hyunjin gasps dramatically.
“As if!” Minho replies matching his energy. 
“What happened next!?” Jeongin asked, sounding like a kid hearing an exciting bedtime story.
“So giant tentacle man ends up retreating once we get to the like billion police officers and oh my god you guys are not ready for this!” 
“Spill it now!” Hyunjin exclaims impatiently.
“So we land right? Well he puts his hands under my thighs and once he sets me down he puts them on my waist! MY WAIST!”
Minho laughs as he hears the 3 boys squeal in delight.
“What then!?” Felix questions sounding much more calm then before.
“So my hands are still around his neck and we are very close together and he asks if I’m okay and I obviously tell him I’m much better now that he saved me and then he tries to be all tough and lecture me about being safe and how I could have gotten hurt so I say it’s a good thing he was there to save me and he says what if he won’t be there the next time I’m in trouble so I’m like oh so you won’t come save me next time and he pauses for a second and then tells me and I quote ‘I’ll always save you’,” Minho takes a deep breath after his rant and immediately starts laughing again at his friends' responses.
“Oh Minho you flirt!” Hyunjin teases after he finishes squealing happily.
“Damn Minho I didn’t know you were such a dog!” Jeongin adds.
“I’ve been telling you guys, Minho’s rizz is unmatched!” Felix giggled.
“Oh god please don’t ever say rizz again” Hyunjin complained playfully.
“Okay but can we talk about the fact that THE Spider-Man wants you so bad?” Jeongin exclaimed.
“I’m sure he was just doing his job-”
“His job is to save people! He does not get paid to flirt!” Hyunjin ever the hopeless romantic argued.
“I actually don’t think he gets paid at all,” Jeongin corrected. 
“Either way he was practically off the clock when the villain left! He totally could have just dropped you off and left immediately after! But instead he stayed and held you in his arms! You guys had a bonding moment! Minho, you are living in a romantic comedy!” Hyunjin sighed dreamily.
“I’m not sure I would count almost getting squished by a car romantic or comedic,” Minho retorted.
“It would’ve been a little funny,” Hyunjin mumbled. 
Before Minho could threaten Hyunjin, Felix chimed in, “I don’t know Min, I think Jinnie and Innie are right. He sounds at the very least intrestedddd.”
“Yeah yeah whatever you guys say. Well I’m gonna head back to the apartment now, I’ll see you guys soon?” Minho questioned.
“Yeah we’ll drop Innie off at his place then head back! See you soon lover boy!” Hyunjin teased.
“Bye Minho!” Jeongin exclaimed.
“Bye In-ah! And I’ll deal with you when you get home Hyun!” Minho warned.
Minho could hear Jeongin and Felix laugh as Hyunjin gasped in fright at Minho’s threat.
“We’ll be home soon Min, please stay safe,” Felix pleaded.
“Of course, bye guys,” Minho assured as he ended the call.
Due to the villain's departure the police have deemed it safe enough for people to head home now. Most of the streets were closed as a result of the debris from the attack, so a lot of people would be walking home tonight. Even if the streets were open, a lot of them lost a car today, so either way, no one’s driving for. while. 
A police officer escorted Minho back to his apartment as it wasn’t very far from where they were. The entire walk Minho’s thoughts were consumed by Spider-Man.
It cannot be normal to feel so strongly about someone he just met. Minho knows it’s the man’s job to make him feel safe but damn he’s never felt so at ease hundreds of feet in the air. His fear of heights has been a constant problem all throughout his life and yet he would gladly stand atop the Burj Khalifa if it meant he could be in Spider-Man’s arms. He also thinks about the conversation he had with his friends. Was Spider-Man really flirting with him? Or was he just trying to distract Minho from the fact that they were in a life threatening situation? 
Minho starts to wonder why he even cares. He doesn’t know the hero, why should it matter if Spider-Man was flirting with him or not. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again. Minho feels a slight pang in his heart at that thought. Would this be the only time he ever got to talk to Spider-Man? 
Minho’s head feels fuzzy. Nothing seems to make sense. Despite the fact that he just met Spider-Man today, he feels like he’s known the guy for years. There’s just something so… familiar about him but he can’t seem to place it. Minho starts to wonder if the man in the suit is someone he knows from school. But Minho thinks he would be able to recognize a voice like that, unless of course he was altering it to help keep his identity a secret. 
Or maybe Minho just experienced the love at first sight trope and is refusing to admit it because it would make him seem insane. How could it even be love at first sight if he didn’t even actually see the guy? Or maybe this was some sort of trauma response. Yeah, yeah that makes more sense. Minho was almost killed by a low budget Ursla and now he’s getting attached to the one that saved him. Kind of like stockholm syndrome except the capture leaves physically but not mentally. Minho then starts to think about how he wishes Spider-Man didn’t physically leave but quickly ushers the thought away. 
Once they got just a few feet away from Minho’s apartment he thanked the officer that took him home and they bid each other goodbye. Before the officer left he let Minho know that they would have some cops patrolling this street and that they would keep a close eye on his apartment building just in case the villain ever came back. Minho thanked the man again and headed inside. 
Once Minho had made it to the elevator he let out a small sigh of relief. He was so happy to be home and even more excited to see his cats. 
Oh no, his cats. They’ve been home alone this entire time and are probably scared out of their minds.
Minho ditches the elevator and heads towards the stairs. He bounds up 6 flights of stairs and even though he feels like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs he pursues forward. He makes it to his floor and flings open the stairway door to sprint down the hallway. He would have to get his babies some sort of toy or treat as a reward for their bravery. 
He makes it to his door and shoves the keys inside the locks ungracefully. He fumbles with them for a moment and then practically breaks down the door trying to get in. His eyes scan the living room for his little ones and finds them lounging in their favorite positions on the couch. At Minho’s harsh and loud intrusion Soongie gets up from his spot and greets Minho at the door rubbing against his leg. Doongie stays peacefully sleeping while Dori looks at him like he’s stupid.
Minho lets out a big sigh of relief and leans down to pet Soongie. The cat purrs happily at the affection and Minho stares at him lovingly. Once Soongie decides he’s been pet enough he makes his way back towards the couch and Minho follows. It isn’t until Minho comes just a few inches from the couch that he realizes just how tired he really is. He flops face first onto the couch making sure to avoid any cats. Minho just lays there for an uncertain amount of time before he hears the sounds of his friends returning home. Minho had forgotten to lock the door so Felix is able to barge in and look around frantically, similarly to how Minho had come in.
“MY BABY ARE YOU OKAY?!” Felix shouts dramatically as he ushers over to Minho. 
Before Minho can respond Felix falls onto him and nuzzles his face into his back. Minho lets out a small grunt but he’s too tired to do anything about his 4th oversized cat that seems to think he’s a lapcat. 
Hyunjin giggles at the two as he puts their leftovers and Minho’s food on the counter and walks over to the couch. Minho knows exactly what’s coming next but doesn’t react fast enough before Hyunjin flops down on top of the two. This time Felix also lets out a grunt at the impact. Minho wiggles trying to get the tower they created to topple off him but neither are budging. Hyunjin smiles happily at the peak while Minho is pretty sure he can hear Felix purring. Minho’s wiggles intensify and he starts groaning about how he can’t breathe so Hyunjin grabs Doongie who was sleeping peacefully on the pillows and sets him on top of them.
“Sorry, can’t, Doongie is comfortable,” Hyunjin states happily.
Despite being awoken from his slumber the cat quickly gets comfortable and purrs peacefully. Minho has used his cats laying or sleeping on him as an excuse to not go out as it would be criminal to move such a sweet little thing. Minho sighs knowing he can’t go back on his word now, especially since he’ll probably want to use them as an excuse sometime in the future so he accepts defeat. 
After a few moments of silence Felix asks, “So, gotta thing for Spider-Man now?”
Minho’s head shoots up off the couch as he starts screaming like an alarm clock to get the boys off of him. Due to the piercing sound everyone groans and rolls off of Minho in an attempt to get him to stop. Once Minho can finally breathe again he puts his face back down on the couch and grabs a pillow to blindly throw it at Felix.
He assumes he misses when he hears a loud ‘Ow’ from Hyunjin.
“Sorry I was aiming for the little one,” Minho mumbles, face still pressed down into the couch.
Minho can hear Hyunjin let out a little huff while Felix starts laughing. 
Still giggling, Felix scoots closer to Minho and runs his hands through his hair.
“You okay?” Felix asks comfortingly. 
Minho just nods his head in response. Physically he’s doing fine, mentally he feels like he just fought for his life in the trenches. Felix hums understandingly at Minho’s lack of response and continues carding his fingers through his hair. It’s Minho’s turn to basically start purring and feels some of the tension that had been building up slowly start to fade.
‘Would fade away much faster if it were Spider-Man,’ a voice in his head taunts.
Minho pushes his face impossibly further into the couch trying to drown out his own thoughts between the cushions. 
Hyunjin gets up and grabs Minho’s food from the counter and brings it over to him. 
“Come on, you should eat,” Hyunjin tells Minho.
Minho groans at the thought of getting up from his very comfortable position on the couch. Hyunjin sighs and places the food on the coffee table behind him before grabbing Minho under the arms and hoisting him up like a long cat.
Felix laughs at the bewildered look on Minho’s face as Hyunjin practically manhandles him into a sitting position. 
Once Hyunjin gets Minho settled there's a beat or two of silence.
“You need to stop hanging out with Changbin,” Minho grumbles.
The other two boys laugh while they hand Minho his food. Minho immediately digs in as the events of today had left him starving. 
“Alright well I’m gonna go get ready for bed but I’ll be back out in a little bit. You two gonna be okay?” Hyunjin questions while he stands up. 
“Yes I think I can keep things under control while you’re gone for 10 minutes,” Felix grumbles at Hyunjin.
Hyunjin chuckles and says, “I’m more worried about you getting suffocated with a pillow for saying something stupid”.
Felix feigns a look of hurt while Hyunjin walks away. Minho huffs out a small laugh at the two and continues devouring his food. Felix rolls his eyes and leans back on the couch scooting closer to Minho. 
The two sit in comfortable silence as Minho eats and Felix rests his head on his shoulders. Despite the fact that Felix is sorta in the way he doesn’t ask him to move. He knows Felix’s love language is physical touch and this is his way of showing Minho how worried he was about him, so Minho lets it slide. 
Felix seems to be deep in thought and lets out a little sigh. 
“What’s up Lix?” Minho questions the younger.
“Nothin,” Felix responds unconvincingly. 
“Bullshit, come on tell me, what’s on your mind?” Minho insisted, moving his body toward Felix so he’d have to look at him.
“I don’t know it’s kinda stupid to say out loud, but I feel like Chan is hiding something from me,” Felix admits, playing with his fingers nervously.
“What do you mean?” Minho asked, surprised. 
“It’s just, him and Ji have been spending a lot more time together lately and they keep sneaking around and they text back and forth when they’re in the same room and I don’t know, he just seems so focused on Jisung lately. And sometimes when we’re hanging out late at night he leaves in a hurry saying that Ji needs him for something but what could he possibly need him for so late at night!?” Felix rants growing slightly frustrated. 
“Oh my god Lee Felix are you jealous!? Minho accuses excitedly. 
“WHAT!?” Felix shrieks. 
“Oh my god you’re jealous of Chan giving someone else attention!”
“I AM NOT!”
“You totally are! You know Lixie you won’t burst into flames if Chan isn’t giving you his undivided attention twenty four seven.” 
“Yes I will! I mean no obviously I won’t but it’s just that you know-”
“You know I always had my suspicion that you liked him but I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to start accusing him of sneaking around with another man just because he needed to help a friend out.”
“Minho I’m being serious!”
“So am I! You know if you want his attention back on you there is something you could do.”
“What? What is it!?” Felix questions, leaning in to not miss a single word.
“Okay it's a little out there but hear me out; you could tell him how you feel.”
Felix stares at Minho for a second before grabbing a pillow and smacking Minho upside the head. Minho yelps and sets down his food in order to get back at the younger. Felix tries to get up but before he can fully stand up Minho grabs his arm and pulls him back down on the couch. They play flight for a couple of minutes throwing around random accusations to rile each other up.
“Just admit you have a fat crush on Chan!”
“I’ll admit that when you admit you got a thing for Spider-Man!”
Hyunjin walks into the living room in his pj’s and watches the two go at it with an amused smile on his face. Minho is holding back from really roughhousing with Felix as he normally would with Hyunjin because Felix is more sensitive. While Minho is going easy on the boy, Felix is fighting for his life. Minho regularly works out and over the past few months has really started to bulk up. Felix is just now realizing how bulked up Minho has gotten. After a few more minutes Hyunjin decides that's enough and goes to break the two apart. 
“Alright you girls are both very pretty but let’s break it up.”
Hyunjin grabs Minho and picks him up bridle style much to Minho’s dismay. Minho lets out a surprised gasp and holds onto Hyunjin just in case he drops him. 
‘You wouldn’t have to worry about being dropped if Spider-Man was carrying you,’ the voice in Minho’s head returns.
At that Minho sighs in defeat and goes limp is Hyunjins hold, mental and physical exhaustion taking over once again. 
“Alright princess, let's get you to bed, you've had a long day,” Hyunjin giggles quietly at the older who currently looks like a displeased cat. 
The 3 boys head into Minho’s room where Hyunjin unceremoniously drops Minho onto his bed and wishes him a goodnight. Felix chuckles and approaches where Minho is splayed across the bed. He moves the hair out of Minho’s face and kisses his forehead.
“If you can’t sleep, my door is always open,” Felix assures him.
Minho nods and bids him a goodnight. He stares at the ceiling for a while after Felix leaves. His mind wanders off to a million different places and once his eyes threaten to start closing he decides he should probably get ready for bed.
 He gets up with a groan and heads toward the shower. He stands underneath the scalding hot water for a while and stares off into the shower wall. He gets out when his body starts to feel too heavy to keep up right and quickly finishes his nightly routine. 
He renters his bedroom with his 3 cats hot on his heels and they all make themselves comfortable in his bed. Minho gives them all a kiss goodnight and tucks himself into bed. Once he closes his eyes he immediately see’s the dark gaze of the villain. His eyes shoot back open and cuddles into himself a little tighter. He calms his rigid breathing and lets his eyes fall shut once again. His brain replays the scenes of the villain chasing him down. He shutters slightly and wills his brain to think of anything else. 
The images of the frightening chase slowly start to become thoughts of the hero that saved him. His touch, his voice, the way he kept Minho so close even when they were safe. Minho would never admit it outloud but he secretly hoped the hero was around somewhere keeping watch over him. The cops told him they’d keep surveillance over his apartment but nothing in this world would make Minho feel more at ease then knowing Spider-Man was around, ready to protect and save him at a moment's notice. Like his very own guardian angel. 
What Minho didn’t know was that his wishes of the hero being close had come true. If Minho’s secret was to be protected by Spider-man, then Jisung’s secret was him sitting on the roof of the apartment complex opposite of Minho’s to make sure he stayed out of harm's way all night.
A/N
thank you so much for reading the second chapter! let me know what y'all think! chapter 3 is already in the works so it should be out soon! thank you again and i'll see you soon!
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