#also this now explains the fact that he tried to call me minutes after we parted but hung up before i answered

[cinematicnomad]

just learned that this man was apparently hit by a taxi literally 2 minutes after leaving me in front of my hotel and ended up in a hospital needing stitches.

all i’m saying is if he had just come up to my hotel room he would have had a much better night lol

i made out with a random british man and invited him up to my hotel room and he said NO!!! this is a crime

[catherinnn]

Can you please do a fic where Eddie and reader get into a fight over stupid jealousy, and Eddie brings up the fact that the reader had a history of sleeping around before they started dating and uses that against her. She gets speechless and leave and Eddie realizes how bad he messed up, tries to chase after her but she's already gone. He spends days trying to get her to talk to him and she just keeps avoiding him several times. Robin and Steve seeing how distant both Eddie and Y/N have been, decide to work together with Eddie to help him get Y/N back.

(this is inspired by how you get the girl)

That's How It Works

eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: so so so much fluff, fighting, slut shaming, hurt-comfort.

words: 1.3 k masterlist

a/n: thank you so much for requesting <33 I'm catching up with the other requests too, i promise :)

“You were all giggly with him” he interrupts.

“Eddie, we were just talking-“ You try to explain but he wasn’t listening.

“I laughed cause he made a joke!” You could laugh right now from what he’s accusing you of.

If someone told you you’d be coming back to the trailer after Eddie’s performance in The Hideout going at it fighting instead of all over each other, you would have been surprised.

But this is where you are right now. He’s jealous that you ran into an old friend while he played. However, he’s not only accusing you of flirting with him, but also of not even paying attention to his show.

“You cannot tell me that douchebag made an actual funny joke” he contradicts.

“What is this big problem you have with him? You don’t even know him” you complain.

“How do you know him?” he asks in a tone of accusation, you answer either way.

“He was an old friend from high school”

“Just a friend?” he asks again looking pissed, like that wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs clenching his jaw. You wait for him to explain himself.

“Giving your history before you met me, forgive me if I have some trust issues” he reproaches angrily.

You laugh bitterly. “Did you seriously just said that?”

“N- no, wait-“ he sighs and then tries to make it better but it’s a little too late now.

“I’m out of here” you say grabbing your jacket again and opening the door.

“Wait, sweetheart-“

“For your fucking information, he was just a friend. Hopefully, that helps you sleep better tonight” you say sarcastically and storm off.

Eddie stays pondering on what you said realizes he went too far. He goes after you but as he gets outside he sees your car already driving away.

He waits a few minutes until what he thinks will take you to get home and starts calling, no one answers.

He keeps trying for a couple more days but you either hang up as soon as you hear his voice, or not answer his calls all together. 

“Boy, I need to use the phone” Wayne says after Eddie’s been calling three times in a row.

“Fine, just let me leave a message” Eddie says and Wayne stays there waiting.

“Do you mind? It’s kinda personal” he says. Wayne rolls his eyes giving him his space, mumbling “What the hell did he do now?”, but he can already imagine.

“Hey, Munson” Steve greets him once he sees him entering Family Show.

“Hey, can you call [y/n]?” Eddie asks.

“Uhh sure, but why can’t you call her?” Steve asks confused.

“I kind of… fucked up and she won’t answer my calls” Eddie admits embarrassed.

“Oh no, what did you do?” Steve sighs.

“Do you really need to know?”

“Yes, and actually wait here” Steve asks before going to the back room only to return with Robin.

“You fucker” it’s the first thing she says as she sees him.

“You know already?” Eddie complains.

“Of course I know, she called me right away” she explains. “You have some fucking nerve”

“I know, I know. I was so stupid and mean and I didn’t even listen to her-“ Eddie regrets himself.

“What happened?” Steve interrupts and Robin explains as Eddie covers his face in embarrassment wanting to die right here and now.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Steve complains after Robin fills him in.

“I know, I fucking hate myself right now” Eddie says. “But I’ve been calling her ever since that same night to explain how sorry I am and she doesn’t want to listen”

Robin wants to make a comment saying ‘you had it coming’ or something like that but as she sees him almost crying as he says all that, she decides against it. Plus, she knows you listen to every voice mail he leaves you almost cuffing yourself so you don’t call him back.

So she decides to help him.

They give him tips on how to get you back; like going to your house instead of calling you —Steve said to do it tonight because it was supposed to rain and it would be more dramatic;— they told him to say cheesy lines like ‘I broke your heart and I’ll put I back together’. He was wary about all of this but Robin ended the list with a proud smirk saying:

“And that’s how it works, that’s how you get the girl”

So he decided to trust her. He bought the flowers, and waited until it started to rain.

You stayed watching a movie tonight. Normally the rain helps you sleep like a baby, but lately it was harder and harder for you to finally get some sleep. Ever since the fight.

You were wondering if it was time to pick up one of his calls and talk, but you wished he would do something more. Something that showed how sorry he actually was.

You were watching some cheesy rom-com where they are always more dramatic and romantic. Right in the middle of his love confession you hear a knock on your door. It was late already and raining like crazy so it must have been a branch or something.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was soaking wet on the other side praying to Ozzy Osborne that you open the door and not one of your parents. He keeps knocking, cursing Harrington under his breath for this idea, until you finally open the door.

“Are you insane?!” you ask him once you see him. His curls no longer defined because of the water soaking them. The flowers he held in his hand were still looking pretty, only damped. His hellfire shirt almost see through from how wet it was, showing the tattoos underneath.

“I’m sorry” he tries to start but he’s shaking. You let him in, but before you can go grab a tower he stops you.

“Eddie, you’re shaking!” you complain.

“Just listen, please” he asks. “Here, these are for you” he hands you the flowers and you take them.

You stand there astound at his confession. Not only that but the way he did it and the words that he said.

“It’s been a long week, and I missed you like crazy” he starts and you let him explain. “I’m so so sorry for what I said, I- I lost my mind." he takes a deep breath.

"I want you, I don’t even fucking care about your history before, and I’ll make it up to you until the day that I die." he promises

"I understand that you’re angry at me but I’ll wait for you. Forever and ever” he finishes.

He always made fun of you for loving those silly rom-coms and romance books where they’re extra-cheesy. He didn’t like it, they made him cringe. But he understood now. The romantic gestures and love confessions.

After a few seconds you smile, almost mocking him. “How cliché of you, Munson”

He looks at you, not knowing if this means you’re cool now. But you don’t let him overthink it for a long time. You run to his arms, rolling your eyes smiling because he knew just how to make it better.

He engulfed you in his arms, squeezing you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I was an asshole”

“You were, yeah.” you agree. “Can you start trusting me more from now on?”

“Yes, I promise” he says nodding repeatedly.

“I didn’t know you could be so sappy” you joke and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Don’t tell anyone”

“Oh but I will, Gareth and Jeff are gonna die with this information” you laugh imagining all the jokes they will make.

“Oh come onnnn” he complains.

“But I love it though, so don’t feel ashamed” I confess sweetly.

“Only for you, you little tease”

“Alright, let’s go watch Nothing Hill now. Julia Robert’s speech has nothing on yours!” I mock him.

And that’s how it goes. That’s how you get the girl.

[choccorin]

lovers quarrel

tags. hurt / comfort, sakura haruka x gn!reader

you've been ignoring sakura because of the argument you both had two days ago. he missed out on your date, again. this is the third time this happened in your relationship of 5 months, sure, it wasn't a big deal but for you it is.

the two of you are busy students, he's busy at furin and you're busy with your school works. you can rarely hangout these days due to it being exam season, both of your schedules were packed.

you were so excited that day, you waited at the cafe you both planned to meet at but after two hours, he still didn't show up. you tried calling him, no answer, you tried contacting his friends, also no response. you went home after waiting for three hours, you felt embarrassed because the staff kept checking up on you, so you just left.

you understand that he has things to take care of back at furin but can't he make some time for you, even just a day? you're both still new to relationships, in fact, this is your and his first relationship. you start doubting yourself if getting into one was a good idea, you love him — you're sure of that. and he loves you too, but can the both of you maintain a relationship with little to no experience?

these questions cloud your mind while you're walking back to your apartment, you halt when you see him outside, standing and looking down, he's drenched in the rain. what is he doing here, you ask yourself. don't tell me he's walked here, in this weather?!

“sakura .. ” you call out to him

he lifts his head and looks at you, his eyes are glimmering with hope. he looks tired, the dark circles forming under his eyes say so. are you the reason for them?

you hesitantly walk towards him, “why did you walk here while it's raining? idiot.” you mumble that last word, looking away from his gaze.

“ah, s-sorry.. i was in a hurry to talk to you.. ” his voice is trembling — he sounds like he's about to burst into tears.

you sigh, “ get in first. ”, you unlock your door, letting him in.

“i'll bring a towel, wait here. ”

“(y/n), can we please talk? .. please.” he's pleading you, you've never heard him like this before.

you stop walking, only glancing at him from behind since you're still upset with him.

“fine, talk.” your voice sounds cold and sakura doesn't like that.

“listen. i .. ”, he breathes in, “i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bail on you, it was just that a lot of things happened like a gang was threatening to hurt the town an-”

“just forget it, what's done is done.”

“but i-”

“there's no point in apologizing, sakura!” you wince, that came out harsher than you expected.

the silence in the room felt like a heavy weight crushing you, almost suffocating. both of you were just standing there — waiting for the other person to speak up, but there was nothing. only the sound of the rain .. and sniffles.

he's crying.

you turn around to face him, he's looking down but you can tell he's crying his heart out. his shoulders and hands were trembling, you felt guilty yelling at him.

“haruka, i'm sorry! i was just upset and-” you scramble your words, trying to explain your side to make him stop crying but he cuts you off.

“no. you're right, there's point in apologizing. it's my fault for missing another date and i .. i know i mess up a lot but just please, please don't leave me.” he holds your hands, tears streaming down his face, “i can't go on without you, you've made me the happiest guy in the world in just a few months and-”

you pull him into you, hugging him as tightly and gently as you can, “i'm not leaving you, you idiot. why would you think that.. ”, your voice is shaking, you were crying now too.

he hugs you back, “please don't let me go .. ” sakura mumbles against your neck, hugging you tighter — afraid that you'll let him go.

you kiss his forehead, holding him tighter against you — not caring about his drenched clothes, “i won't hakura, i promise. ”.

both of you stay like this for a couple of minutes, melting in each others hold. but your mind snaps out of it when you feel your clothes getting wet, you wipe your tears away. telling him that he needs to change or else he'll catch a cold, you full him into your bathroom, ignoring his protests, and leave him there to get new clothes, a t-shirt and short that the left at your place just in case.

you tell him that once he gets changed, both of you will talk properly and fix this, even if you two have little to no experience in relationships.

n. this is so bad but i needed to get something off my mind so here's this.

t. @kyoghurts, hi again, i hope u don't mind me posting another sakura fic >_<

[merowkittie]

request: “Ні!!

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a Wolverine and Deadpool x S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet and shorter than them. But she is a total powerhouse! She can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the them!”

@klerns-birdie

thank you for your request! since i did write something similar to this before, i tried to switch it up as best as i can, sorry it’s a bit short =]!

warnings: none / not proofread =,]

wade testing your strength:

“holy shit, peanut! that actually hurt!” wade whined and held his bicep, looking at the blossoming bruise forming, only for it to disappear in a minute.

huffing, you rolled your eyes and kissed your teeth.

prior to you punching your boyfriend in his huge biceps, he was continuously bothering you. literally riling you up because in his words,

“it just turns me on whenever you or logan are angry.”

which prompted a glare from said man, and a scoff from you since you were pretty well tempered and only got angry on missions really. so he kept poking at your arms, tickling your neck, play fighting your legs, and when he LICKED your cheek, all mercy went out of the window.

so you reeled your arm and in a flash brought it down into his arm. logan applauded you for it, saying a gruff, “atta girl.”

usually, you’d let wade or logan do whatever! you truly didn’t mind, it’s just sometimes the constant nagging (as much as you love him) gets a bit too much!

“what happened to my sweetheart??” wade asked, putting your hair that’s fallen in your face behind your ear.

“still here.. just stop bothering me so much. we can cuddle if that’s what you want?” you looked up at him, and he swore he could’ve died at that moment.

you looked so sincere and adorable with huge eyes looking up at him, and a hand tugging on his shirt.

he folded instantly into your side, mumbling a little sorry even though he didn’t really mean it.

logan also testing your strength:

unfortunately this wasn’t your fault! compared to these two hunks, you’re tiny. so of course you’re going to struggle to sleep at night with wades heavy leg and arm strewn across you.

but what really tied the knot here was the fact that logan slowly started to lay on top of you. logan, who’s skeleton was made out of metal. metal that was HEAVY.

so as soon as half of him fell on top of you, squirming as quietly and gently as you could, you tried to squeeze out of that position.

and honestly, it was working until logan threw his own arm over you to secure you in the spot you found yourself in.

both men were knocked out in dreamland, where you wanted to be but couldn’t because of the weight on top of you. at the point, you wouldn’t be surprised if you died due to lack of airflow or something!

calling for help wasn’t even a liable option because blind al would be sleeping by now since it’s damn near 1AM, wade is knocked out drooling on your neck, and logan… he sleeps like someone’s grandfather!

there was one last option, but you didn’t think you were that strong for it..

as best as you could, you turned a bit in logan’s grasp and began to pick him up as much as you could to put him to the side. you literally didn’t understand how a person could be THAT heavy. but given the fact he is basically made of adamantium that obviously explains it.

but jesus… cuddles with him just end up deadly!

after a huff and one more push, logan was off of you and you silently cheered and clapped your hands together in praise. he groaned on the side, as much as he is a heavy sleeper, he always knows when you or wade are trying to slip out of bed or move around which disrupts his sleep and causes him to wake up and glare very very menacingly at you.

"bub?" he grunted as he turned back to you, squinting in the dark.

a sheepish smile made it's way to your face and you mouthed a sorry at him. "you kind of heavy y'know.."

he just rolled his eyes at you, and wrapped an arm around your waist, cuddling up to you like a cat.

with a sigh you just thanked whoever above for your mutation because as much as it's hot to suffocate under a sexy man, no.

the end is a bit abrupt.. sorryz!! hope you enjoyed <3

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter nine:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of toxic family, angst.

➴ word count: 3.8k

💌 from me to you: took my sweet time before publishing this because now my non hockey best friend follows me (i love u lily) here and i feel ashamed lmfao also ive been deep into ballroom hair tutorial videos on tiktok so im sorry for the delay. love u all though! (p.s. be patient with maddie yall)

౨ৎ

2024, MAY.

YOU STARED at the two piece set you chose for Jack’s birthday dinner and sighed, wondering if it was a good option or not.

After that wonderful weekend with Quinn at the cabin he had rented for you both, you decided to give it a shot and call Luke and Jack once, to know how they were doing; turns out Quinn was right, and they missed you just as much— or at least that's what they said when you explained that you were calling because you wanted to know how they were doing and that you missed them.

Luke talked with you for a good thirty minutes, while Jack exceeded himself and made it to the one hour mark. Even with the time difference, he managed to speak with you for a long time, and didn’t end the call until he was absolutely sure that you would come to his birthday dinner in Newark.

“You can come with Quinn, if you want. He’s coming too,” he said, and you wondered if you should tell him that you and Quinn now were some sort of friends with benefits.

Not that you didn’t want people to know. In fact, people probably already knew— or at least they suspected. It wasn’t like you and Quinn had been trying to be subtle, and your Instagram posts didn’t leave room for imagination. It was clear that you were with someone, and the chances of that someone being Quinn Hughes were very high.

All your life you tried to distance yourself from the Hughes brothers as much as you could. When you were younger, people asked if you knew them, and even though you didn’t understand why, you always told them no. After you grew up and made your own name, not mentioning Quinn, Luke or Jack felt like the right choice, so you just kept it that way.

And now, it was May 14th, and you were on your way to Jack’s house, with Quinn by your side. You had rented a hotel room for the weekend, even after Jack (and Luke) complained about how there was no need for that and how you could stay with them, you thought it was better this way. You didn’t want to intrude in their lives and sharing a hotel bedroom with Quinn wasn’t exactly the worst thing that could happen to you. And thankfully, Quinn didn’t complain about it either.

“Are you ready, baby?” Quinn stood by the bathroom door, looking at you through the mirror.

You picked your red lipstick up, opening it. “Just the last thing and then yeah.” You say before applying it, smearing the lipstick on your lips. “What do you think?” You ask, giving him a twirl.

“You’re unreal, Madison,” he eyes your body, up and down, before getting closer and kissing your forehead. “We might not leave this room tonight.”

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Come on, let’s go,” you say, taping him on his shoulder. “Did you grab Jacky’s gift? It was in my bag.”

“I did, yeah,” he says, leaving the bathroom after you. “Wanna tell me why you bought him a pop music album called ‘Make Me Yours’? A bit suggestive, don’t you think?”

You laugh, throwing your head back at Quinn’s furrowed brows.

“I was just listening to this album the other day and I don’t know why, but I thought he might like it.”

“Alright. I thought you wanted to be his.” He smirks, grabbing your purse for you and opening the bedroom door.

“Meh. He’s not the Hughes I’m interested in.” Quinn laughs, nodding with his head.

The drive to Jack’s place wasn’t long, fifteen minutes inside the car Quinn rented was all you needed to get to Jack’s house. You took advantage of the time inside the car to check on the photos the hotel Bella was staying in had sent you during your flight, smiling when you remembered how Quinn also got worried about her well being.

You were looking at Bella, trying your hardest not to let your eyes fill up with tears as she distanced herself from you to play with the other dogs there.

“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” You ask Ryan, the owner of the five star dog hotel you reserved for Bella so you and Quinn could travel together.

“Yes, Mrs. Carter, I can assure you that.” He smiles politely, holding his hands together.

“I need you to send me pictures of her hourly so I can see if she’s fine,” you demand, shaking your head. “If there’s anything wrong, call me. No matter what time it is, you will call me, do you understand?” You squinted, trying to look scary.

It probably worked, because soon you felt Quinn’s hand circling your waist, pulling you closer. You stared at him as he smiled at you. “I think Ryan understood everything perfectly, baby. Bella will be fine.”

“Yes, Mr. Hughes, Bella will be well taken care of.”

“Of course she is. Otherwise we’ll make sure this place is shut down.” Quinn says with the friendliest tone you ever heard coming out of his mouth, making you smile at him.

Ryan’s eyes twitched for a second before he managed to let out a scared laugh, excusing himself and leaving the two of you alone.

“Do you think we scared him enough?” Quinn asks as you both leave the fancy room.

You smirk. “I hope so. Otherwise this will be the only time I use my name for something.”

You and Quinn parked the car after a few minutes looking for a spot— the street was packed with cars, so you could only imagine what Jack’s house was going to look like— and you grabbed his gift before moving back to Quinn’s side and walking to Jack’s door.

Quinn rang the doorbell and a few minutes later, a very excited and happy Jack opened the door, holding a can of beer in his left hand.

“Huggy bear!” He hugged Quinn and pulled him inside the place. “Guys, Huggy Bear is here!”

You could hear the shouts coming from the living room and you smiled, watching as Quinn’s face turned into a cute shade of red and he looked at his brother like he wanted to murder him.

“Hey, Jacky, happy birthday. I love you,” Quinn mumbles, embarrassment coming out of his pores.

“Thank you,” he kisses Quinn on the cheek, clearly a bit tipsy and moves on to you. “You’re actually here.”

You smile. “I am. Happy birthday, Rowdy.”

He hugs you tight, holding your waist with both of his arms, his left hand feeling colder because of his beer. You kiss him on the cheek, making sure there were no lipstick marks left, and hand him his gift.

“This is for you.”

“Can we talk about how the actual gift here is you being here? With Quinn?” He smiles, closing the door behind you and Quinn. Your smile grows, feeling happy to see him this happy. “Thank you.”

“How many people did you invite?” Quinn asks beside you, sounding surprised.

“Just the fellas,” Jack shrugs. “And maybe some girls too.”

“There’s like thirty cars parked outside.” Quinn complains, and you squeeze his shoulder, involuntarily. Jack eyes your hand there for a second before rolling his eyes at Quinn.

“Stop being boring. Come on.”

Jack probably didn’t understand the concept of a small birthday dinner, which was what he said when he invited you to his birthday. You imagined that there would be ten people tops, but the twenty-three NJ Devils players were there, and their respective significant others as well. Not to mention the at least ten women and men who weren’t players nor girlfriends but were there as well.

While Quinn greeted some of the people he knew, you found Luke sitting on the couch, talking to a random girl.

“Mads? Jesus, you actually came.” he sounded as surprised as Jack did, and you raised your eyebrow, giving him a forehead kiss.

“Why are you so surprised? You know I wouldn’t miss the chance of taking pictures of Jack’s drunk face,” you joke, sitting on the couch beside him and smiling at the girl who was talking to Luke before. “Hi, I’m Madison.”

“I’m Jessica, nice to meet you,” she smiles, and you can tell she’s timid.

“Been a while since the last time I saw you. How’s life in Vancouver, M?” Luke asks, sipping on a beer he should not be drinking. You squint your eyes at him. “Don’t even start.”

You lift your hands in surrender. “I like living there.”

“I heard they have amazing lakes there,” the girl from before, Jessica, says, smiling and crossing her legs.

“Oh, yeah, they do.” you agree, smiling.

“You and Quinn visited one last week, didn’t you?” Luke asks, staring at you weirdly. You could tell he wanted to ask you something else, blue eyes full of questions, but he was content with the simple nod you gave him.

“I’m actually in the mood for a drink. Sorry for interrupting you both,” you say before getting up, watching as Luke smirked at you, probably happy because you didn’t cut his chances of getting laid that night, while Jessica shyly smiled at you, waving with her hand.

Finding Jack’s kitchen wasn’t hard, since the majority of the people were staked in the living room. You took the liberty of opening his fridge, smiling when you found your favorite beer brand inside it.

You grabbed a can, closing the door right after it. You opened it, taking a sip after.

“Oh, wow,” you hear a voice behind you, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background, making you turn, still with the can around your lips. A blond man stood by the kitchen door with his hands inside his pockets. “It’s not every day we see a lady like you drinking directly from the source.”

You chuckle, putting the can down. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The man smiles and shrugs.

“I probably have to work on my pick up lines a little bit more.”

“That was a pick up line?” you scoff. “I’m scared.”

“I’m Jesper Bratt,” he laughs, extending his hand, which you promptly grab. “Never seen you around Jack’s parties before.”

“Madison Carter,” you introduce yourself, letting go of his hand. “I’m an old friend of Jack’s. And I live in Vancouver, I’m just here to celebrate Jacky’s birthday.”

Bratt whistles. “Damn. And I thought that the twenty minute drive here was long. You flew a whole country for him.”

You smile and lift your shoulders, feeling shy suddenly.

“It’s no big deal, I’ve known him for years. Are you one of his teammates?”

“Yes, actually,” he rests his elbow on one of the counters, staring at you with fierce eyes. “So, Madison Carter. Tell me about yourself.”

“Is this a job interview?” you laugh, finishing the rest of your beer in one go.

“It might as well be,” he smirks, moving until he was in front of the fridge, opening so he could get another beer for you. You thanked him, before speaking again.

“And for what position am I applying for?” you ask, only realizing what your sentence implied after Bratt’s laugh.

“I hope it’s for missionary.” he cocks his head to the side, a flirty smile decorating his lips.

You rolled your eyes, sipping on your beer again.

Jesper wasn’t a bad looking man. And usually, you’d feel flattered that a man as handsome as he would be interested in you, but this was when you realized that you were fucked.

Because no matter how much Bratt flirted with you, or how seductive he sounded, it didn’t matter— he isn’t him.

You were sixteen years old when you realized that that infatuation you felt for Quinn in reality meant that you were in love with him. Maybe if you were anyone else, you would’ve realized sooner, since the signs were as clear as Algarve’s beach sea, but coming from someone who knew little to nothing about love, it took you way longer.

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t normal for you to compare all of the boys your age to Quinn. It wasn’t normal for you to cry after your first kiss because you wanted Quinn to be the one who kissed you first. Same thing with your first time having sex or giving a guy a blowjob.

You were in love with Quinn Hughes, and probably had always been.

But then you grew up, moved to Los Angeles and tried your hardest to be normal and not feed your teenage delusions about marrying Quinn and carrying his children. You forced yourself to believe that what you felt for him wasn’t anything more than a crush. A teenage crush.

And it was easy to believe that, since you hadn’t seen him for years. It was easy to pretend you were happy with Richard, or with any of the guys who flirted with you.

But when you saw Quinn for the first time after all those years, looking as handsome as you knew him to be, you realized that your silly infatuation for him wasn’t just that. No. Twenty-two year old Madison Carter felt the same things sixteen year old Madison did.

And now, standing in the middle of Jack’s kitchen, you realized something worse: it wasn’t just a crush. It was a wardrobe full of feelings, it was a gray sky packed with heavy clouds. You were in love with him.

And people are right when they say that owning something is probably the most hurtful way of loving. Because you loved Quinn, you owned him right now— you know he isn’t seeing anyone else— and yet, he wasn’t yours to keep.

The months were passing by, and soon it’d be September again and you’d have to move back to Los Angeles, and leave him and what you wanted so bad to call yours behind.

“Earth to Madison.”

You smiled at Jesper, feeling bad for zoning out on him like this.

“Sorry, I’m still a little bit jet lagged,” you explain, leaving your still full can on top of the counter and excusing yourself. “I think I need to use the bathroom, sorry.”

“No worries. The night’s still young.” He smiles at you one last time before you leave the kitchen, looking for Jack’s back door, and leaving the house.

Thankfully, no one had had the same idea as you, so Jack’s backyard was empty and with no one around to watch you freak out over your realization.

Or at least that’s what you thought.

“I knew something was up with you, but now I need to know what.” Luke’s voice reached your ears, making you smile and turn your head around, looking at the man who was sitting on one of Jack’s couches,

You walked in his direction, sitting beside him, resting your chin on your knees. “Just tired.” You mumble, closing your eyes.

“Maybe Jack would fall for that but me?” He scoffs. “Hell no. Spill it.”

“Why are you talking like a seventeen year old girl?”

“Don’t try to change the subject, little lady. I’m waiting.”

“I’m still older than you, y’know.”

“And I’m taller, so I don’t care,” he coughs, poking your cheek with his freezing cold finger. “Come on, M. Is it Quinn?”

You lift your head fast, frowning “Why are you talking about him?”

“It’s obvious that something’s going on between the two of you and you just confirmed it,” he chuckles. “What happened?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you sigh, putting your head against your knees again.

“I think that starting from the beginning is a great choice.”

“You think you’re so funny,” you roll your eyes, playful. “You’re not. And I don’t know if I want to talk about my relationship with your brother with you.”

“Look, it already feels weird because you’re literally a sister to me, so it feels like I’m watching something very unholy and sinful happening but I want to help you, so just get it out of the way.”

You stay quiet for a while, debating with yourself if you should talk with him or not.

“I’m in love with your brother,” you whisper, saying the truth out loud for the first time ever. “And I’ve been in love with him for a long time now.”

Luke doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“We’ve recently started to… well, explore each other in other ways.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, I knew it’d be bad but fuck me sideways this is disgusting,” he groans, making you laugh.

“You were the one who asked me to talk to you!” you laugh at his disgusted face.

“Yeah, but I regret it now. Leave all of the romantic parts aside, please.”

You roll your eyes, but do as he says. “And the truth is I don’t know what to do. I’m only staying in Vancouver for four more months and I don’t want to start something with him knowing that I won’t be able to keep it.”

Not to mention that once Quinn got to see you for what you truly are, he’d want to run away from you as soon as possible, just like your family did, making you leave your house as soon as you turned eighteen.

“Why can’t you just tell him this?” Luke stares at you, licking his lips.

“Why are you even asking me this?” You raise your eyebrow. “Why would I tell him about loving him but not being able to be with him?”

Luke stays silent for a while, making you stop staring at him and stare at the sky above you— the moon shining bright and the stars decorating the space around her.

“D’you know what I think?” he finally says, and you hum, waiting for his answer. “I think that you’re scared.”

You frown. “Scared? Why would I be scared?”

“Because you know Quinn, and you know he would do absolutely everything to be with you. He would fly to Vancouver every week if he had to, just to stay in LA with you.”

“I can’t let him do that,” you whisper, feeling terrible just by the thought of it. “I would never ask him to do something like that.”

“I’m not saying you would, I’m just saying that he’s willing to do something like that for you, and it scares you. It scares you to think that he probably loves you enough to do something like that.”

“We don’t know if he actually l–loves me.” You stutter, the word making your mouth feel bitter.

Luke sighs, moving his body around until he is facing you.

“Maddie, look,” he starts, his tone barely recognizable with how serious he sounded. “We’ve never said anything because it wasn’t our place, and maybe it still isn’t, but—” he breathes deep, his eyes never leaving yours. “The way your family treats you isn’t normal.”

“Luke—”

“I know, hell, we know that love isn’t exactly something you have experience with in your life and it’s fine. But you need to learn to accept the love people are willing to give you.”

“I do accept it,” you bite back, defensive.

“When was the last time you said ‘I love you’ to anyone?” Luke asks, and you can feel all of the walls you worked so hard to build starting to crack. And it scared you to death.

You got up fast, startling Luke. “Don’t talk about shit you don’t know.”

He also gets up, reaching out for you, making you step back immediately. He pulls his hands back, frowning. “Madison.”

“No, you— you can’t just say shit like that, Luke.” You could feel your heart racing inside your chest, your head pounding with unwelcome thoughts, but now you’d already started and— “I know what love is.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, M, I’m just saying you don’t know how to accept it!” He yells and raises his arms, pretty face portraying a deep shade of red underneath the moonlight. “Jack, Mom, Dad, me and Quinn have loved you for years and you can’t even acknowledge it!”

You both turn your head around as you hear the back door opening, and Quinn’s worried voice reaching your ears. “Luke, Maddie. Is everything okay here?”

“Madison’s—” Luke starts talking, and you angrily press your index finger against his muscled chest.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Luke,” you whisper, watching as he looks down at you, his sad, blue eyes grabbing a piece of your heart and keeping it.

You knew you were all over the place and you knew Luke had the greatest of all intentions, but he was right. You were scared. You had never been so scared before, not even when you moved to a whole other country by yourself, with no one to rely on.

You knew you were hurting him, just like you knew you were going to hurt Quinn, and maybe even Jack. Because that’s what you did to people, you hurt them.

Luke steps back, then he’s walking towards the door where Quinn stood, getting inside without saying a word.

You took a deep breath, thankful for all of the times you wanted to cry at work but couldn’t because you were surrounded by people. Now you know how to push your tears back whenever you need to.

“Maddie?” You hear Quinn’s soft whisper beside you, only then realizing he had gotten closer, and was now holding you by your waist. “What happened, sweetheart?”

You, you think. You happened, Quinn. You and your brothers and your parents.

You try to smile, knowing it wouldn’t reach your eyes. “Luke and I were just talking, it’s fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost and Lukey looked like he had just lost a game by 10-0,” he stares at you, worried. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened, I swear,” you lie through your teeth, knowing he would see right through it. “Let’s go back to the party.”

“We’re not going back there with you like this,” he frowns. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

You shake your head, already letting go of him. “No. We came all the way here to see Jack and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“But—”

You kiss his lips gently, briefly touching them.

“Please? I’m fine, I swear.”

He stares at you for a while, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, but whatever he found made him give up, briefly nodding before kissing your forehead and walking you back to Jack’s party.

And just like that, you had your confirmation.

Even though you’re one hundred percent sure that you were meant to be his, Quinn Hughes wasn’t meant to be yours.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[ranhaitanisgf]

🤺back🤺🤺🤺back i say🤺🤺 it’s my turn to request something for hana’s event🤺

may i please request a scenario with baji + flower shop in which he goes to buy his mom flowers as an apology but doesn’t know what to get, so he just picks out random flowers that actually mean everything except “i’m sorry” so you help him out?

by the way, you don’t have to write this part, but i just thought it would be cute if he develops a crush on you and you see him at a different flower shop buying a small bouquet and you think he’s betraying you, but later he shows up at your shop, awkward and stiff, with that same bouquet to ask you out because his mom said that’s the proper way to do it. just wanted to share that little add-on with you!!

— baji keisuke // flower shop // love at first sight

☆ ˎˊ˗ heyyy ... arba idk if ur still active IM SRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG i disappeared D: we miss u come back ... also this idea was sooo cuteeee arghjhghjghjhg i actually went soo overboard w this but it was too good!!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader implied

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you’d had your eye on him since he’d walked into the store. 

it wasn’t for any particular reason aside from the fact that he seemed to be feeling wholly out of place, which made you giggle a bit as he shuffled around, muttering and grumbling to himself as he awkwardly looked at different bouquet arrangements. 

he definitely didn’t seem like the type to be buying flowers either; his long dark hair and overall brusque demeanor didn’t exactly give you the impression that he was someone who would go around buying flowers, (and was that him that pulled up on a literal motorcycle?! he seemed like he was around your age!!). 

under normal circumstances you would have gone up to assist, but you decided to sit back and see how this boy was going to play this one out, (he was really cute, but if a cute boy like him was in a flower shop, he was undoubtedly buying flowers for his girlfriend). it was quite the entertaining spectacle to see him walking around, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to find something that he found suitable. at one point, he even seemed to phone someone for help, though he hung up rather quickly after yelling that he definitely was not buying flowers!!

after minutes and minutes of walking around, he finally picked up two bouquets of flowers; geraniums and tansies. you had to restrain your laughter as he walked up to the register, damn near shaking to keep yourself from bursting out into giggles. 

“d-did you find everything, pff--ahem! did you find everything alright today?” you had let your giggles slip through on accident, and even though you tried to cover it up with a cough, you could tell that it failed immensely from the ticked off look on the boy’s face. 

“you’ve got a lot of nerve to be laughin’ at me-” he started, the deep tone of his voice taking you off guard. 

“n-no! i’m not really laughing at you per se…well, kind of.” you tried to explain. “see, okay, do you know what flower language is?” the boy quirked an eyebrow at this, giving you the sort of look that says go on. “well, it gives flowers different meanings, y’know? so unless you’re trying to pick a fight, i really wouldn’t suggest using these flowers.” 

“...what do they mean?” 

“geraniums and tansy flowers together…you would be calling the person stupid and then be declaring war on them.” the boy’s amber eyes widened, his lips pressing together in a thin line as his brows furrowed together once more. “if you’d like, i can suggest flowers with a more…caring meaning for your girlfriend.” the boy’s eyebrows shot up at your words, making you wonder if you’d said something wrong. 

“girlfriend? these’re for my mom.” 

“oh! sorry, i just assumed-ah, never mind. now, let me see…” you stood up from your seat, gathering the flowers in front of you in your arms and coming out from behind the counter. after you put the flowers back, you looked around for a moment, a few ideas floating through your mind. 

“hmm, why are you getting her flowers?” 

“...’cause…” he mumbled a bit, making you lean in a bit. 

“what was that?” 

“‘c-cause! i made her cry…” despite the fact that his voice had raised a little bit, all you could sense from him was embarrassment and shame, especially from the look on his face, (he almost looked like a kicked puppy). the sight made you smile softly; it wasn’t often that you got genuine customers like this, so you were going to make it your mission to help him. 

“alright, give me one moment…” your eyes flicked throughout the store, taking a few moments to weigh different options before making a decision. you ended up grabbing three bouquets; white tulips, daffodils, and some small filler greenery with bits of baby’s breath. 

you walked back behind the counter, setting the bouquets down in front of you. the black-haird boy had followed you aimlessly around the store, eventually ending up back in front of the register. there was a kind of quiet curiosity in his eyes as he watched your practiced movements, (truthfully, you weren’t used to someone watching you do bouquet arrangements with such an intent stare). 

“i’m doing this for you right now because i want to help you, but for future reference, you usually have to call ahead a day or two for this.” a smile played on your lips as you unwrapped the flowers in front of you, glancing up a bit to look at the boy. 

it was only for a moment, but his amber gaze staring right at you caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. you immediately looked back down, busying your hands and trimming the leaves off of the flowers. the rest of your work was done in silence; trimming the end of the flower stems, arranging them in a way that looks pleasing, opening some of the flowers to match the rest. it was relaxing work, so much so that you almost forgot about the boy in front of you. 

almost. 

the whole time you were working you could feel his gaze on you, looking up a few times just to look back down immediately. you felt a little bit anxious throughout the process, hoping that he would deem your work acceptable enough for his mom, (your anxiousness was also from the fact that a very cute boy was watching you, but that was aside from the point). 

you finished the final step, delicately wrapping the flowers in a thick brown paper and securing them in place with the tie of a thick ribbon. 

“there, all set! what do you think?” you asked cheerily, admiring the flowers you had put together. in your mind, you thought it looked pretty good, but it wasn’t your opinion that mattered here. 

“yeah…they look good.” 

“yay! i’m glad you like them!” you handed the bouquet over to him, a rush of happiness flooding through you at his approving words. “i hope you’ll come again!” 

“wait, how much was this?” he started to pat around his pockets for his wallet, but you shook your head. 

“don’t worry about it, it’s on me! just make sure to come back if you need more flowers, though i hope it’ll be for a better reason!” 

“i will…” he stared at you for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes. “hey, if you keep looking at me like that i’m going to take it back, so go apologize to your mom!” you ushered, waving bye to him. 

“thanks.” if you weren’t looking closely, you probably would have missed the small smile on his face before he left. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

“isn’t that…” you squinted a bit, walking a few steps closer to get a better view. sure enough, there he was! the same black-haired amber eyed boy who you had helped last week, in another flower shop!! 

“oh my god, that total traitor!!” you huffed. “i told him to come back if he needed more flowers…” you watched as he got handed a bouquet of flowers, shaking your head in disdain. when you saw him head for the exit, you immediately panicked, scrambling away from the scene and jogging the whole way back to your shop. 

despite the fact that you had only seen him once, you still felt a bit of disappointment at the fact that he had gone to another flower shop, even when he’d said he would come back. maybe you scared him off? 

i didn’t even say anything weird though…

your thoughts kept you quite occupied while you were preparing the shop for open, though they were a bit burdensome when you happened to prick yourself on some roses, too distracted to be paying attention to the thorns properly. 

after some of the bouquet orders for the day, you flipped the sign on the door to ‘open’. you were about to go back to sulking behind the counter, but a glimpse of black hair outside caught your eye. 

looking closer, you realized that it was the same boy! he was seated on his motorcycle, chatting his a blonde haired boy who you assumed was his friend. 

maybe he had realized that the flowers from your shop were better!

however, your gaze narrowed when you realized that he was holding the same bouquet you had seen him with earlier, making your mood sour immediately. 

was he coming here to rub it in your face or something?!

while you were busy glaring, you started to notice that his blonde haired friend was gesturing and pointing wildly towards your shop, seeming to be shouting at the black haired boy about something. while you were still a little bit sour, you began to be intrigued by what was going on, contemplating going out there to see what all the commotion was about. 

the thought immediately perished as you made eye contact with the blonde, who could clearly see you staring at them through the windows of your shop. the two of you stared at each for a moment before you darted away from the glass, rushing back to behind the counter as you prayed that he didn’t actually see you, (he definitely did). 

“well, whatever! i helped him out and he went to another flower shop--so what!!” you muttered to yourself, throwing your hands up. “that’s the last time i ever do a nice thing for someone!!” you grumbled, preparing the flowers for the rest of the bouquet orders you had to do. 

it was a practiced routine at this point, so you were able to arrange the flowers properly without putting much thought into it, using it as busywork to take your mind off of things. you weren’t sure why you were so upset about the fact that this boy went to another flower shop, but it certainly wouldn’t help you to let it get in the way of things. 

hearing the bell to the door chime, you chirped out a ‘welcome in!’ as you continued trimming and arranging flowers, being careful this time to mind the thorns so that you didn’t get pricked a second time. 

“uh, hey.” the deep tone of voice immediately made you look up, feeling as if you would have snapped your neck if you looked up any faster. you shook off your nervousness, (and excitement) going back to what you were doing as you tried to look casual. 

“well, you’re back. whatever you want isn’t going to be on me this time because you betrayed me.” you said cooly, a bit of a frown on your lips. 

“betrayed--what? uh, anyways, i just wanted to give you these…” he cleared his throat, holding out a bouquet to you. when you finally looked up and took a good look, you noticed that the tips of his ears were red, (should you be having hope right now…? no, stop it! get a hold of yourself!). “and, uh, i got them with that flower language thing…” 

“what…?” you leaned forward across the counter, inspecting the flowers in the bouquet a bit closer. “calla lilies and white camellia’s…” looking up at the boy’s embarrassed and somewhat flustered expression, you paired it with the meaning of the flowers, and…

ah…

immediately, you felt your heartbeat speed up and felt the apples of your cheeks heating up, leaning back and looking away. you fiddled with your fingers for a moment as you tried to think of something--anything, really--to say. 

“i…uh…how, um, how did you come up with this…?” 

“my mom said it was a good idea…” he shifted a bit, his arm still holding out the bouquet of flowers. “if you don’t want them, i can jus’ take them back-” 

“no!” you grabbed the bouquet from him, smiling a bit too much, (you couldn’t help yourself though). “you’re giving them to me, so they’re mine now, right? you can’t take back a gift! and-and just hold on for a second!” you left without another moment to spare, running into the back and scrambling for a piece of paper. you picked up a nearby pen, quickly jotting down your name and number and then running back out, a big smile across your face. 

“here!” the boy in front of you grabbed the slip of paper, his amber eyes examining it before he smirked a bit, showing off the sharp bits of his canines. 

“(y/n), is that right?” 

“yes! what’s your name?” 

“baji. baji keisuke.” 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus: 

“baji-san! how did it go!?” 

“i need a yakisoba right now, chifuyu…” baji grumbled, sitting on his bike and leaning back. 

“did you get rejected?!” chifuyu asked, a look of grave anticipation on his face.

“no!! she thought i betrayed her flower shop because i went to another flower shop! your idea was shit!” chifuyu’s face went pale at that, his mouth hanging wide open. 

“i didn’t think about that…” 

“yeah, this is the last time i take advice from whatever weird manga shit you got this from.” 

“...”

“...”

“i mean, she said yes, right? a win is a win!” 

“...shaddup.”

(chifuyu proceeded to pay for the yakisoba outings for the next six months.)

geraniums: folly, stupidity | tansy: hostile thoughts, declaring war | white tulips: apology, i'm sorry | daffodils: appreciation, happiness | calla lily: beauty | white camellia: you're adorable

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 3: The Titan's Curse

The truth was I was kind of disappointed to hear that she liked her new school so much. It was the first time she'd gone to school in New York. I'd been hoping to see her more often.

I tried to concentrate on little things, like the crepe-paper streamers and the punch bowl - anything but that fact that Annabeth was taller than me, and my hands were sweaty and probably gross, and I kept stepping on her toes.

"The General?" I asked. Then I realised I'd said it in a French accent. "I mean... who's the General?" I want this part to be in the show

"Sweet! Let's go! [to CHB]" said Nico. this breaks my heart. he was so excited in this book

Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter (and he seriously loved peanut butter).

"How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?" "Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone." "But she was like, the goddess of flowers." Grover looked offended. "Springtime." you tell him grover

"That's some serious danger you're facing." Connor Stoll said. (I liked how he said you and not we.) I'm just imagining the rest of the campers not bothering to go on quests cause it's always the same few demigods and they don't care, they're just chilling safe at CHB while Percy and Annabeth do their things

The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!" But I couldn't understand his thoughts. I only speak horse. Percy Jackson speaks two languages: English and Horse

With a shiver, I realised that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half blood long after I was dead but Bianca would still look twelve years old. ouch

"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said. "Of course." Grover said. "It's wild!" "So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.

"That's us," he said. "Those five nuts right there." "Which one is me?" I asked. "The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.

When she smiled at me, just for a moment she looked a little like Annabeth. I know everyone talks about this part but I can't help but bring it up again, they are so cute

"Woah, first of all, I never said anything about love. And second, what's up with tragic!" little does he know. also, Percy is so incredibly insightful in this book but he's also so jealous of Annabeth and Luke and so upset about the idea of her joining the hunters yet still can't figure out that he likes her

"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s." "Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said. Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States." Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?" "Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture." I cannot explain how much this little bit means to me.

The girl I'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god." she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?" Rachel's here!!! I love her

Five minutes later, Zoe had me outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat. someone draw this and tag me. what an outfit

Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us. How could I let that happen to her? he is the most empathetic, wholesome guy, I love Percy

"Can't this go any faster?" Thalia demanded. Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic." You both sound like my mother." I said. "Shut up!" they said in unison. I kind of wish we got more Thalia and Zoe interactions... they would've made such a great enemies to lovers dynamic, if Zoe didn't die

"Get away from my daughter!" Dr Chase called down, and his machine gun burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering. "Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.

Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

"No," I said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me." "Why are you saying that?" she cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?" It was the last thing I wanted, but I didn't say that. I knew I had to step up and claim it. "I can't let Nico be in any more danger." I said. might I remind you this boy is 13/14 and has the whole world on his shoulders (both literally at some point and figuratively)

I feel like these are just getting longer and longer but again, I will be back for part 4!

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #15] Paper Planes

warnings: byeol letting us know exactly what annoys her!! lil fight :( but jaykay is teeew cahyute :( we learn the red witch's name!!! cw: hayun!!!!! paper planes! jaykay is a little nervous, handjob, fingering, cockwarming, protected sex, oc on top, (f)solo masturbation...during cockwarming (??), mirror mentions, jaykay is just the loveliest

a/n: the comment section on this one always made me die lol

soundtrack: wrong - zayn ft. kehlani

wc: 11.1k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

When Jeongguk's phone vibrates on his nightstand, he pretends he can't hear it. It's the second time it's gone off in the last ten minutes, and even though he knows it's just you, there's something stopping him.

Okay, so that 'something' might be the little white lie he's told you about inviting a girl over - but he thinks if he replies to you, it will be obvious that he's alone.

It's been three days since you watched him type out a message to a girl, press send, and lock his phone almost immediately. He had thrown it down on his bed, groaned, and held his hand over his face as if it was some great strenuous task. 

It was only made worse by the sweet, musky scent still on his hands. You . 

And you seriously expected him to be able to invite another girl round? How the hell would he explain all the birds on his ceiling? Would he tell them the truth? Explain that they shouldn't get too comfortable with him, because his bed is reserved for his friend who he can't seem to help but desperately want to fuck?

The thought process left him reeling. 

Was still thinking about it even after you'd left that evening, none the wiser of his inner turmoil.

You also weren't wise to the fact that he'd flicked his phone over to airplane mode before sending that message. The girl - the one from the club who had kissed him with little care for anything more than the fact she thought he was gorgeous - never received the message.

And so Jeongguk had done something he knows you'd be displeased with: he lied.

Told you that he had invited her over. That she had said yes.

So he hasn't replied to any of your messages all morning, to make it seem believable.

Jeongguk's not quite sure why you're calling, now. Interrupting a date is the last thing you'd want to do, so it worries him - concerns him that maybe something is wrong - but he also fears you thinking badly of him. Knows that if you find out he is a big fat liar, you will be mad.

He'll call back soon. He will . He'll ruffle his hair, rub at his cheeks to make them a little blushed, and then he'll facetime you, as if he's just said goodbye. He'll ask not to talk about it, and let you draw your own conclusions.

He's torn from his thoughts - and the flashing of your call on his phone screen - by a knock at his apartment door. Jimin is at work, which means he has to answer it.

Tossing his phone onto his bed, Jeongguk heads towards the front door. At least this gives him an excuse to stretch his legs. He's been staring at the ceiling for a while, now. Been hoping another bird would fall so he could use it as a distraction. 

His footsteps are slow. Lethargic. His bare feet pad along the floor like a little lost puppy, as his hand comes to cover the yawn escaping from his mouth. Doing nothing all morning always makes him feel even more tired than he actually is.

He's barely finished yawning by the time he reaches for the door handle, pulling it open and putting on a smile.

And then, he panics.

"Shit."

Jeongguk almost slams the door shut again as soon as he opens it. In fact, he tries to do exactly that - but you put your palm against it just in time.

"You are unbelievable , Jeon Jeongguk."

"Byeol-"

"No, no, no," you almost laugh, waltzing straight on into his apartment as if it's your own. The television is off, and Jeongguk hasn't cleaned up the kitchen since he made breakfast, so he quite clearly has had no company - but you know this already. "You don't get to 'Byeol' me. Not now." 

He follows you in, but stands by the kitchen counter as you take centre stage by the sofa. Your arms are folded over your chest, tightly, just to let him know how unimpressed you really are. 

Jeongguk can't help but smile. He thinks you sort of look like a pissed-off bunny rabbit. Half expects your foot to start thumping out of frustration. You're dressed down - a pair of tights and a shirt large enough to be a dress, with a flannel over the top of it. You've still got your black converse on, which is testament to how little you care about leaving a good impression. They really should be by the door. But you're pissed - and rightly so.

"C'mon, Byeol-"

"No!"

"But-"

"You promised me, Gguk," you eventually sigh, shaking your head, eyes all doe-like and pretty as they reflect the light of his floor lamp. The glitter on your lashline is ridiculous as ever, and he's glad for it. Has missed it. Missed you.

"I know," he concedes. "How did you-"

"I'm a girl," you interrupt. "We know everything ."

Or at least, you know the Instagram handle of the girl he was supposed to be seeing, and had also seen her post a story by the coast that morning - miles and miles from Jeongguk's apartment.

Jeongguk casts his eyes to the floor. You've a bag hooked over your shoulder, so he knows you're heading to work, but had called in by his place first. He knows you don't have much time to waste, and he feels horrible about it all.

"So?" You ask impatiently. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

When he glances back up towards you, nibbling down on his bottom lip, brows a little higher than usual, you know he must be squirming beneath his skin. Good , you think. It's the least he deserves.

"Y'know," you scoff when he can't bring himself to say anything that would justify lying to you. "Maybe I was just naive, but I thought you got it . Didn't think I'd ever have to worry about you lying to me-"

"Byeol."

"Turns out you're just like every other guy I know."

The charming curve of his placid smile drops. His lips rest ajar and his eyes are wide - but his brows are furrowed. You're not sure if it's confusion or hurt lacing his features, but you decide that both are desirable. 

It's unfair to compare Jeongguk to other men in your life. You both know this. Unfortunately, you also both know there's only one comparison that will really hurt him.

But you're pissed. 

And so you make the comparison. 

"After Jin, I always told myself I wouldn't let anyone lie to me - but apparently lying to me is easy."

Oh, the silence. It burns . Scalds you both. 

You readjust the bag on your shoulder and shrug. Shake your head. Purse your lips. Are already running late for work, so pick your heels up and storm past him with one final scoff to really wound him.

"I thought we trusted one another. I thought we were friends . More fool me."

You don't take the elevator, instead heading for the stairs. There's a fear that he'll chase after you, and you don't want to be caught out as you wait for the lift to reach his floor.

It's not until you're out of his apartment block that Jeongguk actually moves. Doesn't even really think, either. The minutes pass slowly. It's suffocating.

The impact of your words sizzle and settle into his skin like the mark of a brandishing iron. LIAR , the imprint would read.

He crouches. Takes a deep breath. Hadn't considered there being any impact to his white lie. Thought it would be something he'd admit in a few weeks time, and maybe you'd find it funny. 

You're still learning about one another, though. There are stones left to unturn - some that are too heavy for him to do by himself. He'll need your help. 

But right now? 

You need a drink. Vodka, preferably. 

Unfortunately, drinking on the job isn't an option, so Hoseok starts on an iced americano the second he sees you storm into the room. He says nothing. Has seen you with a face of thunder before. Doesn't wanna feel the wrath of your lightning. Is unaware of the fact Jeongguk's sitting in his apartment slightly frazzled already.

Instead, he just places the drink beside you as you check through the day's bookings. It's relatively quiet, thankfully. Will give you more time to focus on planning Taehyung's upcoming exhibition. You need to send feelers out, and drum up a little bit of hype, but feigning excitement at the moment is the last thing you want to do.

"Wanna talk about it?" Hoseok eventually asks after half an hour of silence from you.

Glancing over to him, you offer a soft smile. He's the one guy who's never let you down. "It's no biggie."

And that's thing - it really isn't. In the grand scheme of things, Jeongguk's little lie really doesn't mean all that much. 

The thing that bothers you is that he would have rather told a lie, than just be honest with you. 

It's a slippery slope, you think. If he sees he can get away with a small lie, what's to say the next time it won't be an even bigger one? And then an even greater one? And then he'll just be lying left right and centre and-

"Oh," Hoseok interrupts your thoughts. Nods towards the entryway, where a man you'd rather not shower in customer service smiles stands. "I'm gonna go count some stock."

Hoseok never counts stock. He's just getting out of your hair. Knows that you've been spending a lot of time with Jeongguk as of late, so presumes that maybe he's got something to do with your foul mood. 

"We're all booked up," you tell Jeongguk, not even looking in his direction. You busy yourself cleaning out some brushes, instead. 

Still in the clothes he was wearing in his apartment - a pair of grey sweats and a black t-shirt - he's annoyingly handsome. Is also wearing his black converse. Just like you. It pisses you off.

He looks into the room and hums. There's a single couple by the side wall. No one else.

"Thought you were annoyed at me for lying?" He tries not to smirk. He knows you're being ridiculous, now. "You can't be lying, too. Would make you a hypocrite." 

He's got you there.

"Fine," you snap back a little harsher than you intend. "This area is for paying customers only, I'm afraid, sir. Please buy a canvas, or fuck off."

"Is that how you usually speak to punters?" He grins, digging into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. This just annoys you even more. You wanted him to leave.  He tosses his card down on the counter. Doesn't care what he pays for. Will pay for anything just as long it gives him a chance to make things right.

"To the ones who deserve it," you smile, but he knows how you actually smile at him. Knows this one is entirely false. Reaching over for his card, you begin tapping through some options on the till system. "So that's a deluxe painting experience for two?"

"For two?" He questions.

"All of our solo slots are unavailable," you shrug. It's such a blatant lie that it makes Jeongguk laugh.

"All of your basic packages, too?"

"Mhmm."

"Fine," he just says. "May as well go all out. Charge me for a VIP package."

You pause. Glance up towards him, only to realise he's deadly serious. The VIP package rarely sells, because it's honestly not worth it. Customers just get fresh supplies that they're able to take home - and a personal buzzer that they can use to get the staff's attention.  

Turning your concentration back to the screen, you nod, and process his payment. "Very well. Please take a seat of your choice. My colleague will bring your supplies to you."

Jeongguk knows Hoseok. There's no need for you to be so fucking formal. He thinks you're being unreasonable. 

"Not you?"

"No. Not me."

You really mean it. Will avoid Jeongguk like the plague if you can help it.

Hoseok has other ideas. He refuses and practically pushes you out from behind the desk with Jeongguk's apron and paints in hand. You whisper curses in his direction, but straighten yourself up to approach Jeongguk with a demure demeanour. Cold as ice, he's not used to seeing you like this. Finds it kind of funny.

Sat by the window you adore so much, Jeongguk has his back to you, and is quiet as a mouse. He's decided that he's not going to engage in conversation with you, because he knows you. Knows that it will drive you mad. Knows that you'll start a conversation just to bicker with him.

But you're also silent as you approach; silent as you don't bother arranging his paints for him like you know you should, silent when you let the apron drop to the floor instead of handing it to him. 

You place the buzzer beside him, and walk away knowing that Hoseok will have to accept any of Jeongguk's calls, for you'll just refuse. 

Thing is, you didn't charge Jeongguk for a VIP package. 

You charged him for solo basic package. 

And so when the buzzer alert vibrates at the front desk, Hoseok refuses to get it. Says he's under no obligation to fulfil Jeongguk's requests. You gave him the buzzer. It's your job.

"You wouldn't have given him a buzzer if you didn't want an excuse to talk to him," Hoseok says, and regretfully, you know he's right. So you just give him a small glare, and head in Jeongguk's direction. 

It's barely been five minutes since he sat down. He can't need help already. 

You say nothing as you stand beside him. Wait for him to turn to you. Refuse to look at his canvas.

"Do you guys have wifi here?"

There's a poster on the wall quite literally beside him with the code on it. You nod in its direction, and catch glimpse of his canvas - and the pale blue letting in the middle of it: 

i'm sorry 

"That everything?" You ask a little impatiently. 

"Yeah," he smiles, and his lip ring flips ever so slightly. You hate how much you love it when that happens. Jeongguk thinks you want to smile back - but you storm off before he has a chance to confirm this.

And so five minutes later, the buzzer vibrates again. You groan, and Hoseok just smirks. Tells you that you reap what you sow. 

You tell him you'll sew his mouth shut if he's not careful.

When you reach Jeongguk again, he has another stupid question - "which way up should the canvas be?" - and you know it's just a ploy to have you looking at what he's written on there again. The entire background is baby blue now, but in peachy pale orange, it reads: 

forgive me :(

You simply reach over, and turn the canvas so that the painted side is facing the easel. "Much better." 

He knows he shouldn't push his luck, so he decides against calling you over again - but he does take his precious time painting, then starting over - again and again - just to buy more time in his little corner of the cafe. The sun sets. Hoseok heads home. So do the last customers- and yet Jeongguk remains. 

You had spent the rest of your shift trying (and failing) not to glance in his direction. With the amount of art that adorns his arm, you're not surprised to find he's the artistic type, but you hadn't expected him to be a pastels kinda guy.

"Pretty," you muse as you come to stand behind him. Your voice is soft now, in a way that it wasn't earlier. Calmer. More at ease. Not quite warm, but certainly not as frosty as it had been.

"You think?" he tilts his head, and ignores the way your hands rest upon the top of his shoulders. 

It's not that you aren't still annoyed with him - you most definitely are - it's just that you've spent the entire day in a horrible mood. It's so much nicer to pretend you're not. It actually makes you feel a lot better.

In front of Jeongguk is a pretty little sunset scene. Purples and oranges, like a meeting of clematis and clementines. It makes a change from the pink and blue gradients that people usually do, and you find yourself a little bit enamoured with the way he sees the world.

"Mhhm," you nod, and squeeze his shoulders gently. "Really pretty. I've only got a couple of jobs left to do. Got much to add?"

He shakes his head. Truthfully, could have been finished three hours ago. Thinks he's done - then says, "hold on."

Dipping his thinnest brush into the small reserve of white paint on his palette, he adds a dainty star in his sky. 

"There," he says triumphantly.

"Beautiful," you muse.

If you weren't too busy looking at his art, you'd catch his beaming face in the reflection of the window, and the way he bites down on his lip just before he agrees. There's something comforting about the way he paints; like a blanket over cold toes on a winter's night, the promise of everything being okay in the end. It's hopeful, you think. Calming. Promising.

And yet Jeongguk is still Jeongguk.

"I'll put it up in the living room next to your tits."

Rolling your eyes, you tap the back of his head and walk away. 

"At least you won't have to lie to Jimin about this one. He still think my tits are courtesy of Tae?"

"Courtesy of Tae," Jeongguk nods as he gets to his feet and begins to clear away his supplies. "He hasn't been round ours lately to say otherwise, and Jimin hasn't mentioned it to him, so we're all good."

You mumble a noise to affirm Jeongguk's assumptions. You know your tits are ticking time bomb - you just have no idea when it's set to blow. Hope that you'll be safe from the blast when it happens.

Jeongguk disagrees. He really does believe Jimin won't give a fuck. Might be a bit weird, granted, but it's not like Jimin has any claim on you. Sure, he got you 'first', but Jeongguk doesn't think it counts for anything.

"At least that's one less thing for you to lie about. I actually do need to call Tae," you ponder as you restock the paint.

Jeongguk ignores the small jab about lying. Knows that you'll no doubt insist on talking about it later, so revels in the distraction of Taehyung. "You do?"

"Mhhm," you say. "We need to plan the layout for the exhibition. Figure out how we're gonna make the space usable for regular customers, still."

"Well," Jeongguk considers as he runs his palette under the sink tap. "If you need any help moving the furniture about, I'll be happy to help. Anything for Tae."

"For Tae?" You raise a brow.

"Uh-huh. Not for you."

Oh, what a beautiful liar Jeon Jeongguk is: eyes bright, smile wide, cheeks so appled you think he could make cider. There's no malice in his misconstruction of reality, just a tender awareness that you tend to enjoy when he's like this.

You look at him with perplexed eyes, and sigh so deeply he thinks that you can't have been breathing properly all day. 

He knows what's coming next. Saves you the effort of asking the question. 

"I just... got scared." He looks down at his hands. They rest on the counter above the till, as he picks off flecks of dried paint with his nails. You don't tell him to stop, even though you've already wiped the surface down. Figure he's doing it because he's a little stressed. You feel bad.

"I know," you offer a little sympathy. "But isn't that the whole point? We're doing things that scare us, Gguk."

"You've been doing so well," he says and glances up, eyes wide and desperately wanting you to understand. "I'm lagging behind."

You shake your head, and gently squeeze his hand. He stops picking at the paint, so you keep it there. 

"I'm doing well with you," you insist. "Put me with a stranger? Anyone else? I'm not sure I'd be able to cope as well as I have been with you."

He hadn't considered it that way. He pushes his lips to the side like a bunny twitching its nose. It's endearing how vulnerable he can seem despite his piercings and tattoos. There's a softness to Jeongguk. 

"And, hey- at least you did invite me round."

"That doesn't count," he says, reminding you of your own words.

"But it shows that you're also doing well with me. We both need to work on using the lessons we've learned from one another. Both have a long way to go."

He just shrugs. Pulls his hand away, so he can take his apron off. 

"I still shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry."

"And I probably shouldn't have been so harsh on you," you offer back. "Should have heard you out before I decided that you were the spawn of satan himself."

He shakes his head. Doesn't think you were entirely wrong for being so annoyed. He knows he didn't have to lie to you. Instead, he had made an active choice to deceive you in order to make his life a little bit easier. 

Thing is, he's never had anyone call him out for bullshit like this before. Knows he'll think twice before he does it again.

"C'mon," he just says, knocking his head towards the door. "It's late. I'll walk you home."

It's shit like this that makes it impossible to stay mad at Jeongguk. 

His heart is in the right place, as are his intentions - it's just his execution that sometimes leaves something to be desired. Everyone makes mistakes, though. We live and we learn.  

You think that you're learning a lot from one another. Are glad you're able to resolve differences like these easily. Shows he cares about making things right. 

And so you invite him inside when you reach your place. Danbi is away visiting her sister, so it's just been you for the last couple of days. You don't mind it - you enjoy your space - but sometimes it's nice to have another voice in the four walls you call home. 

Despite the lack of a nosey housemate (who would definitely have a few suggestive glances to throw your way if she saw Jeongguk arrive home with you), you invite him to your bedroom, instead of staying in the living room. Aren't really sure why. Just feels... apt. 

It's not his first time entering your space, but he's still a near stranger to your bedroom. It couldn't be more different from his. You're a maximalist through and through, with enough decorative pillows to open up a soft furnishing shop. There are photos of friends, ticket stubs, and old flyers adorning your wall - a paper trail mapping out exactly who you are, all for his viewing pleasure. 

He learns you like a few bands that he does, too. Asks about your favourite tracks. Learns dumb shit about you. Finds that he likes you even more with every new admission. 

Unlike his, your bed is tucked into the corner of your room, where a slightly sloped ceiling makes it feel all cosy. There's no space birds you think. 

"Would be a waste," Jeongguk just shrugs. Is still beating himself for the fact he's seemingly unable to do even the simplest of birds. 

"I wish you wouldn't sell yourself short, Gguk," you sigh, looking at him with a little more pity than he'd probably appreciate. It's okay, though. He doesn't look at you. Just nibbles at his bottom lip and keeps his focus on his hands. "I know your last girl hurt -"

"Hayun," he says quietly.

"Hmm?" You question, though you know exactly what the interruption means. It's her name . He's finally speaking her into existence. Introducing his past to his present. Progress, you think - but selfishly, you sort of wish he hadn't. She'd always been ambiguous. Unknown.

With her name comes knowledge; and the ability to seek her out in Jeongguk's Instagram followers just to see what he's picturing instead when he gets a little too cosy with you.

"Hayun," he repeats, not that he needs to. "She's called Hayun."

She sounds like a bitc-

You cut your thoughts off before they can fully form. You don't know her. Only know Jeongguk's side of the story. It would be unfair to judge her. No matter how badly you want to.

"Well," you start slowly, a little unsure of yourself. "She. Her. Hayun . She hurt you." He nods. "But she's one person. There are billions of people out there, and of those billions, only a very small few will hurt you. You can't keep writing yourself off because of one person."

Hypocrite.

That's the thing, though. There are probably dozens of people out there who are just like her, but won't hurt him. 

Now you come to think about it, there are probably just as many people like you, too.

In the end, what really makes any of us so special? So unique?

Deep down, you know the answer: other people.

It's strangers on the street deciding how attractive you are in mere seconds, friends you've known for years finding comfort in your presence, lovers who mourn the loss of you even when you're still alive and kicking.

Hayun isn't special. She's just human.

Jeongguk is what made Hayun special. He decides that she's special.

But you make him special, too. 

No one sees him quite as you do. No one notices the callouses on his hands, or the tiny section of hair that his hairdresser cropped just a little bit too short compared to the rest of the cut. No one notices the way it's always the right side of his smile that lifts first, or that he always shakes his head a little before he adjusts his hair.

No one else notices the tiny flecks of glitter you sometimes leave on his skin. Not even him.

But you do.

Jeon Jeongguk is special because you choose to make him that way.

Just like you make Seokjin special. You've all the power, and one day you'll wise up to it. For now, you'll just hope that Jeongguk wises up to it, too.

"Then why do you do it?" Jeongguk counters. "Why do you write yourself off because of one person?"

It's a good question.

You find that missing Seokjin comes in waves. 

You'll think you're fine - that the shores have settled and the winds have calmed - but then the tide will come in. Waves will thunder towards you and crash seemingly without warning. You'll be drenched in your sorrow, and there'll be nothing you can do but watch the rides roll away again. He'll be gone, but only long enough for your clothes to dry. He'll be back soon enough to wreck you once more.

Jeongguk watches as you contemplate your answer. Notices the way your shoulders sort of cave in on themselves. Wonders if you were like this before Seokjin.

He's seen glimpses of you that he believes came before Seokjin. The times when you smile; when you laugh without fear of being judged. He's seen you vulnerable, and hates the fact that someone who treated you so unkindly has also seen you like that.

"I'm not sure," you admit. "Part of me thinks it wasn't my fault. That he knew exactly what he was doing every time he broke my heart."

"And the other?"

You look at him for a moment. Wonder what's going on inside that pretty little head of his. You don't think he's judging you, but he definitely is mulling your answers over.

"The other..." you sigh. "The other part remembers the good."

"And what was the good?" Jeongguk queries. "I've only heard the bad."

He doesn't doubt there must have been good times - he just doesn't think they could make up for how dreadful you seem to feel now. 

It's like that wave of missing Seokjin has stolen his breath, too. He feels the impact. Maybe not in the same way that you do, but he definitely notices it. Notices how it gets to you. It's a domino effect.

You shrug. There's so much you could say, but nothing that feels like it could justify what a terrible state you're in.

"He wasn't all bad. He isn't all bad. He made me laugh-"

"Bare minimum."

"Shut up," you say, tapping Jeongguk's chest with a grin on your face. "He's ambitious, yanno? I liked his drive. Liked that he knew what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it."

Jeongguk holds his tongue. Drops his gaze from yours. Is scared you'll somehow read his thoughts, and know he's thinking: kind of like when he cheated on you?

But you're thinking it too. Know that his ambition was founded in selfishness. 

"Well," Jeongguk sighs. "They've both fucked us up, haven't they?"

"A little. At least we're trying to fix ourselves, now."

"Trying," Jeongguk repeats. "Not sure we're succeeding."

"Maybe not yet, but... I have an idea," you grin. It's for him, not for you.

Jeongguk narrows his eyes. The last bright idea you had ended up with a flock of paper birds above his bed, and you seeing him far more naked than you ever should have done. He doesn't imagine this idea will be much better.

You take his silence as permission to carry on talking.

"So I don't have any origami paper-"

"Oh, fuck no," Jeongguk laughs. Not more birds.

"No, hear me out!" You laugh right back. "You said that you don't mind doing your birds with me - that it's different to doing them with other people, right?"

He nods. Is cautious as he does so. Doesn't entirely see where you're going with this.

"You're always willing to do my birds, right?"

"Right..."

You take a deep breath. Are aware that what you're about to suggest could be met with rejection - but how can Jeongguk be expected to be brave enough to open himself up for rejection if no one around him ever does?

"My birds all tend to... be focused on the same thing, right? But you're always happy to do them with me. You're not scared of like... sex. Whatever, you know what I mean," you struggle to articulate yourself.

Jeongguk takes a moment. 

He knows that there's an idea brewing in your head, but chooses to ignore the mental gymnastics involved in figuring it out.

"But," you continue. "What about the things you're cautious of? The things that scare you in the bedroom? There must be some you haven't done before because you were scared of your partner thinking it would be weird?"

"Well, yeah? I'm sure everyone has?"

"Okay, good," you grin, getting to your feet and retrieving some paper from your desk and a pen. "Think of the most unhinged, or slightly obscure things you've always wanted to try. The stuff that you haven't tried before. The things you've feared being rejected."

"Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Stupid question."

It's stupid because it doesn't answer his question, but also stupid because he thinks the answer is abundantly clear. 

And yet you ask again.

"Do you trust me?"

He wants to say no, just to be difficult, but his lips betray him.

"Course I do."

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at his admission. After the little meltdown you'd had earlier, it's nice to hear - and reminds you that he could probably do with a little reassurance too.

"Good. I trust you too. To me, it seems like sex is less scary to you than pursuing relationships - so let's do a sex-based fear of yours instead. Ease you into facing the other ones that actually mean something to you."

Jeongguk isn't convinced of your logic - but you just look so damn hopeful. He'd feel like an ass if he didn't try.

"Alright," he says. "How do we do this?"

"Write the things you feared getting rejected down. I won't look. Just write them down," you repeat, before adding, "then fold them into paper planes."

"Paper planes?" he laughs, and so do you.

"Yes. Paper planes. Chop chop," you continue grinning as you close your eyes to encourage him to get to work.

He looks over at you - the smile settling on your lips, the serenity to be found in your company, and thinks fuck it. 

What's he got to lose? A little dignity? Perhaps it's naivety, or maybe it's just the influence of your enthusiasm, but he feels as if maybe you're right. Maybe things don't have to terrify him. At least not when he's with you.

He's seen how mortified you get whenever one of your birds fall, and how happy you always are after they're completed. You make the scary seem safe.

And so does as he's told. There are five pieces of paper, so he writes down five things he's never done. Five things he's always wanted to try - mostly out of morbid curiosity, more than anything.

When he says he's done you insist that he shuffles the (expertly folded) paper planes up. The way he bends to your every whim is quite remarkable. Makes you think that Hayun must have been a real piece of shit to take advantage of his feelings. If he's this willing for you, he must have constantly been on his knees for her.

"Okay," you say excitedly when he's done. You point to the mirror across from your bed, signalling to the empty waste bin next to it. "First paper plane to land in there, we do."

"We do?" He chokes on his own words. He sort of thought he'd just be sharing his desire. Not doing .

"We do - within reason. Like, if you want a threesome then that's just not possible, 'cause I'm simply one woman," you joke. Jeongguk smiles in such a way that tells you there's definitely ' threesome ' on one of his planes. "Look, let's just do it. What's the worst that could happen? I say no? Life goes on, Jeongguk. It'll be okay."

He hesitates, but not because he's nervous. It's cause he knows he's got a great shot. Tells you so.

"The first one will go in," he promises - so you choose one for him, and are proven right as he sinks the plane into the bin without an ounce of effort.

"Huh," you hum. "Nice."

You choose not to question the fact it sort of turned you on. Put it down to hunter-gatherer instincts. Some shit like that. 

Instead, you hop off your bed to retrieve the plane. While you're up, you roll off your tights. Don't wanna ruin one of your best pairs.

"Shall I do the honours, or would you like to tell me what we're doing?" You ask. 

"Put me out of my misery," Jeongguk groans, letting his body collapse into your pillows. Buries his head. Decides he hates this game. 

Hates it even more when he hears you whisper, "holy shit."

"What is it?" he grumbles into your pillow.

All rather suddenly, Jeongguk's expert aim isn't the only thing that's turned you on this evening. What he's written? Fuck . One of your favourite things. 

"It's torture," you tell him.

"I didn't write that down."

"No... but what you wanna do? Man, knowing you? You'll hate it."

You get back onto your bed and roll him over. There's no resistance. He just lets you move him about. Lets you straddle his hips. Grunts a little as you adjust. Curses when you turn the piece of paper around for him to read: 

cockwarming

"Great choice," you hum in approval. "Not what I was expecting but-"

"Wait," he laughs. "You actually want to do it?"

You shrug. "A bird's a bird. A plane's a plane."

"But do you want to?"

"Would I be sat on your lap like this if I didn't?"

He never gets a straight bloody answer from you. It frustrates him. Mentally. Sexually, too.

"This is so fucking weird," he laughs, pulling his arm to cover his face, his saccharine smile the only thing left on show.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and pull his arm away. He keeps his eyes closed regardless.

"Look, weirder things have happened," you reason. "But if you don't wanna do it-"

"No!" He cuts you off rather abruptly. "I mean, yes. No. Yes. Fuck. Whatever. I wanna do it."

The hand that had covered his face rests now on your hip. When he looks up at you like this, you think his ex must have been mad to fuck him over. 

He's so precious; the dewy tip of his nose slightly blushed, lips pouty and a little glossy. It's his hair that really gets you, though, and how it's so silky smooth that it never tangles, not even as it's pointed in all different directions over his forehead. 

You reach over to straighten it out, and Jeongguk wonders what's behind the delicate smile on your lips. Wants to know every inch of the brain that you so often get lost in. Wonders what he'll find of himself in there.

It's probably for the best he doesn't know.

Your smile broadens a little, cheeks like cherries, so sweet and precisely what he's craving.

"Okay," you nod. You're sat on his crotch and can feel that he's stiff beneath you, but ask if he's hard enough just to check.

"Don't look," he tells you as he hooks his fingers beneath his sweats. You raise yourself up a little to give him some wiggle room. There's a small dark patch of grey where you've been sitting. He isn't the only one who's a little excited.

He pulls himself out of his underwear. Strokes once, twice. Knows he can be a little harder, but he's nervous. Grips himself tighter. Doesn't look at you.

You don't look at him either. 

Instead, you twist your body over to the nightstand, where a small trinket box sits prettily. Jeongguk had paid it no mind when he was looking around your room earlier, as he'd just assumed it was a jewellery box. You flick it open and retrieve something a little more important than pair of earrings - though now you think of it, you also slip your rings off.

Sitting up straight again, you place your bounty on his stomach.

Jeongguk looks down his body, chin to his chest, to see what you've put there.

"Think we'll need it?"

You glance down to check you've put the right thing on his stomach, a little panicked incase you'd mindlessly retrieved your vibrator from the box instead of your bottle of lube - but nope. All good. It's next to a condom. Safety first.

"Yeah?" You let your brows furrow and settle quickly. "We're not working me up, so."

He narrows his eyes. Remembers to sound of your pussy as he had pushed his fingers into you. Knows that it really doesn't take that much to get you dripping.

"We can," he offers. "Like this is a whole process-"

"The plane says cockwarming," you shrug, conscious of not making this about yourself. "So that's what we'll do."

"Byeol."

"Jeongguk."

"Yanno, your need to follow your self-imposed rules is gonna cause us issues," he tells you with such certainty that is kind of funny he looks so stern when his hand is wrapped around his cock.

"No it's not - put the condom on - it's gonna do us a world of good," you smile. 

"You won't even let me kiss you."

"'Cause that's too intimate!"

"Byeol, my cock is gonna be inside you."

"Lucky boy."

"Byeol-"

"Just let me sit on your dick," you grin, rolling your eyes at how pedantic he is. "We can psychoanalyse ourselves later, okay?"

"I-" he sighs, closing his eyes so firmly shut that creases etch themselves into his skin. "I'm hard, I'm just not... there yet."

"You're not?" you hum in surprise. He never has much trouble getting hard, from what you've seen before.

He shakes his head. Bites his lip. Apologises. "Just nervous, I think."

The stupid thing is that he knows he needn't be. He's just not used to this. He's used to foreplay that gets him to the point of coming undone before the funs even really started. He takes his time when he fucks. Takes it seriously.

But you're so casual he can't wrap his head around it. Can't understand how you aren't scared, too.

Thing is, you're terrified. A boundary is being crossed that neither one of you can come back from - but there are only consequences if the pair of you make it that way. It doesn't have to mean anything, and so you're pretending like it doesn't.

"Would it help if I..." You ask quietly, not finishing the sentence. 'Helping' is not on the plane. You shouldn't.

He says nothing. Swallows harshly. You're thankful for the fact he hasn't taken his shirt off. The beating of his heart that you can see through the cotton is already too much to cope with.

He nods.

Stills his hand.

Waits for yours to join.

It's already been established before that your hands are far smaller than his - but seeing them wrapped around the base of his cock? Yeah, it almost makes him say 'fuck it' and ask for a handjob instead. Can't remember the last time he'd have chosen one of those over pussy, but he likes your hands. Likes your wrists. Wants to watch what they can do.

Funnily enough, he can barely keep his eyes open when you actually do get to work. Feels too fucking good. 

You're salivating . Can't remember the last time you gave a simple handjob either. Always end up sucking instead, and there are never any complaints, so you'd forgotten what a simple pleasure it can be to watch a man writhe from your hand alone.

"You good?" you say quietly as he pulses his hips up into your grip. He's hard . Real fucking stiff. Probably the hardest you've ever seen him.

"Mhmm," he nods, only opening his eyes when your grip loosens. You can't take your eyes off of him. He's far bigger than you imagine him in your mind. A vein runs up the underside of his shaft, from the base right to his head, and something about it gets you a little breathless. Just like he is. "Yeah. Shit. Sorry. Yeah, I'm good. You good?"

You like how he stumbles over his words whenever he's turned on. You've noticed it a few times. Always gets your biting your lip. It's refreshing how open he is about how easily he loses control.

It's funny. When you finally look up at his face, you notice he's got a very similar vein that runs down his neck. It's engorged. Prominent. Blood desperately pumping through his body to keep him hard - not that he needs much persuading. 

"All good," you nod. "You ready?"

You're expecting compliance - but he shakes his head. 

"We both know you absolutely cannot take me without warming up a little first, Byeol."

You think he underestimates just how fucking wet you are. Beneath your bra, your nipples are so hard it fucking hurts . You can't remember the last time you were this turned on.

So turned on in fact, you've not thought of Seokjin once, despite the fact Jeongguk is where he usually is. It kind of feels like Jeongguk belongs in your mountain of pillows, lit up by the neon light above your bed. It's a little pink heart - a gift from Danbi one Christmas - and it paints him in the most gorgeous hues. There are no stars in his eyes, just tiny pink hearts. Suits him.

"It doesn't matter if 'this' is for me," he says tenderly. "'Cause honestly, I can't get off if the person I'm with isn't getting off, too. Let me at least make things a little easier for you."

"Easier?" you question, but needn't. It's obvious what he's alluding to. He glances down to his cock, which is thick and still in your grasp. Far thicker than his fingers are.

He nods. "Let me finger you again. We've done it before. We can do it again. I promise you the birds won't mind."

You think his forwardness is perhaps the sexiest thing about him in moments like these. 

He isn't afraid to ask of what he wants from you - which makes everything all the more confusing. Perhaps he really isn't fearful of rejection from you.

"Or you can do it yourself," he also offers. He doesn't want to be too forceful with his requests, just knows you'll thank him later. For all of his creative endeavours, Jeongguk has an analytical mind. Remembers his first forrays into relations with women, and mistakes that had been made in the past. He knows he needs you wet, and knows that even with lube, the tightness can still be a bitch. "I don't mind. I just don't wanna hurt you."

"Okay," you whisper.

"Okay?"

You nod. "You can do it."

The way he sinks his fingers into you is borderline paradise. 

Truthfully, you've only tried getting yourself off once since he was last inside you like this, and gave up halfway through. It just wasn't as good without him.

His thumb presses against your clit, and he's pleased to have you mewling. Had missed that sound. Fucks his fingers into you a little deeper. Stokes against your walls just how you like it. They're hot. Wet. Fucking divine - and he gets to put his cock inside you afterwards? Jeongguk thinks he's won the fucking lottery. 

He briefly thinks of Jimin. Decides that if he were ever to win the actual lottery, he'd probably give Jimin a share of the money. Not all of it. He'd keep the biggest prize. It makes sense to him that you've got a pussy like the winning numbers. As long as he's the one declared 'winner', Jeongguk thinks he'll be okay.

You tell him that you're good - that you can take him now - and he wants to protest. 

Partially cause he's only two fingers deep and knows he should really be three if he wants to stretch you out enough to easily take cock, but also 'cause he really fucking like the way you sound. You insist though, so he lets you. Will let you do anything you like at this point. 

He doesn't bother cleaning his fingers off. In an ideal world, he'd lick them clean - but that's uncharted territory between the pair of you. Doesn't wanna scare you off - as if you aren't rolling a condom down his cock, before lining yourself up with it as he considers it. 

He's throbbing already, swollen and hard, desperate to be sheathed inside you. Tells himself that it's okay, because you're not actually gonna be fucking and also because he's wearing a condom. Skin on skin? Raw? That'd be different, he tells himself.

"Ready?" You ask, breath a little shaky. You don't know why you suddenly feel nervous.

He nods. "Ready."

The tip of his cock rests against your entrance. 

You had deliberately stopped Jeongguk from working you up fully, because you wanted to really feel him as he enters you. 

There's a pleasure to be found in the right kind of pain - and sinking onto cock as big as his? Yeah . That's one of them.

You lower yourself so slowly that Jeongguk is absolutely certain you must be a masochist - or at least he would be, if could form coherent thoughts. He's too busy feeling . You're tight around him. Hot. Slippery yet small. He knows the lube is redundant. Knows you'd have been able to take him without it.

"Holy shit," you curse, still only about halfway down his shaft. 

In another, ideal, world, you'd start to bounce a little. Ease things in a little more gently - but that's strictly against the rules of cockwarming. All you can do is curse. Like him, you're feeling, too - stretched out, full. Content.

It takes the best part of a minute to sink to the base of his cock, and when you do, it takes everything in you not to just fuck him.

Instead, you lay yourself flat against him, arms crossed over his pecks, chin resting on your wrists. His own chin is pressed to his chest, angled a little awkwardly, just so he can look at you. You've no idea what's going on behind his treacle eyes.

"Is it okay?" you whisper, though it's more like a whimper. You're fucking pulsing around him. You both know it.

He nods. 

"Weird," he admits with a smile, a little breathless. "But good."

He finds sanctuary in these moments with you. Is unsure of how the pair of you ended up here, but doesn't mind that you have. He finds it mad that you view this as not being intimate. Thinks you must be clinically insane.

The truth of the matter is that you've made a fatal error. The reason you hadn't considered cockwarming as being too intimate is because you hadn't considered it all. No one ever asks to do it during drunken hook-ups.

But you're comfortable. You like it. You're no stranger to the act, but it's always been foreplay. With Seokjin, it never lasted more than a minute or so. Was just something to tease one another with.

This is different.

"I really like this," he whispers. You don't open your eyes, but you do smile when you feel his torso twist a little beneath you, his fingers reaching over to fix the strands of hair that have fallen from behind your ear.

Aways attentive, he never misses the chance to preen you. Welcomes you at your worst, but endeavours to get you at your best. It's curious.

"Me, too."

"Hey, Byeol?" He hums quietly.

"Mhmm?"

"I really am sorry about earlier."

"I see you've learned the oldest trick in the book."

"Which is?"

"Apologising while you're balls deep. Always works."

"Are you saying this is what I need to do for all future apologies?"

"You're planning on lying to me again?"

"No," he says sternly but softly. "No, I'm not."

"Well then, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you hum against him.

"Do I have to lie?" he asks. "To get this again?"

He's unaware of the way he's biting down on his lip until you glance up towards him. Catches himself, but it's too late. You've already seen it. You don't mean to, but you mirror him. Bite down on yours, too.

"Are we allowed to do birds more than once?" You ask him, as if you haven't been in his shower a handful of times by now. You even know how to work the temperature gauge and everything. Are basically a seasoned regular. 

It's also his point of reference. Knows that he prefers his showers when they're with you. He tells you this - and then says, "I figured we could probably do with a shower after this?"

"My water pressure isn't as good as yours," you simper into his chest, avoiding eye contact.

"So come back to mine?"

It's a question asked without much care for consequences. He doesn't think much of it. You shouldn't either - but you just can't help yourself. 

"You know, I'm starting to think you don't actually have a fear of rejection," you tease lightly. "This was all just a master plan to get into my pants, wasn't it?"

"I've already told you, Byeol. I'm not scared of you."

His hand skirts up your thigh and settles by your hip, the pads of his fingers sinking tenderly into your flesh. His grip isn't hard, but it's firm. Present. There. 

He swallows back a breath. Pushes his head back into your pillows.

The way his neck moves beneath the warm glow of your neon light is sinful. It takes everything in you not to let your nails creep around it; give him a necklace he never asked for but would gladly receive.

This isn't about you, your wants, or your needs. This is all about him. If he asks for your hand around his throat? You might oblige. You might not. Depends on whether or not you're trying to annoy him. For now, your hands remain beneath your chin, resting prettily on his chest.

He exhales a breath. It's deep. You can feel your body move as his lungs deflate. Eyes finding yours once more Jeongguk shakes his head. "This is fucking torture."

You try your best not to laugh. Are well aware of the way your pussy will pulse around him. You don't want to make this any more difficult for him than it already is. "I told you so."

His body is clammy beneath his clothes. He's fighting every urge, every instinct he has. His cock throbs inside you. He wants more . Wants you .

And yet he finds you all rather amusing. Laughs, because he's stupid, and hasn't wised up to what such a movement could do yet. He stops all rather quickly. Eyes wide. Drinking you in to see if you felt it too; the way his muscles had flexed beneath you, the slightly involuntary pulse of his hips, the deep nudge of his cock against your walls.

"Fucking hell," he curses, closing his eyes. The crown of his head pushes down into your satin pillows, hair a mess all over his forehead. His brows pinch together, nostrils flare, jaw tenses. He's sin , but oh so pretty as his dark hair tangles against your posy pink bedding.

The worst part of it all, though?

It's the way he can hear you smile - the light breath that escapes from your peachy lips as you smirk. The subtle giggle. He can't open his eyes, 'cause he can't trust himself when you're looking at him in the way that he knows you undoubtedly are. Isn't sure he'll be able to follow the rules - the ones you implemented that he hates anyways.

Contrarily, you can't take your eyes off of him.

It's as if those big brown eyes have hypnotised you. All he needs to do is click his fingers and you'll be set free - but Jeongguk is a boy . He's stupid . He doesn't realise just how bewitched you are at this moment. Thinks that he's the only one struggling.

It's redundant, mind you - for you wouldn't take your eyes off of him even if you could .

Jeongguk is a sight to behold when he's like this. Kind of reminds you of when he strength trains at the gym - but it's your legs wrapped around his waist instead of a lifting belt. He'll have far less satisfaction taking you off, that's for sure.

You clasp his pointed chin with your fingers and turn his head to the side. His eyes open and land on the full-length mirror across from your bed. You smirk.

"Watch," you tease, subtle in how you're doing it, but he knows exactly what you're up to.

"Can't use my moves on me, B," he husks, but does as you say. 

It's not like he can see anything - just that you're on top of him. The shirt you're in has ridden up to your thighs, so your legs are exposed, but that's as much skin as there is on show. He strokes the bare skin regardless. Watches his hands as they caress you. Enjoys the sight.

"Oh, but I can," you simper, turning your head on his chest so that you're both looking in the mirror. It's kind of sweet. Or at least, it would be, if your pussy wasn't currently being stretched out by a cock so thick you know you'll be feeling it for days.

You watch on as his eyes scan the pair of you, but settle on you. He raises his brows. Looks ever so charming as he does so.

"It's not like we can even see anything," he protests, and he knows he shouldn't, because you're you . You'll just try and prove him wrong - and that's dangerous for everyone involved - but mostly him . Incredibly dangerous for him.

He's proven right as you slowly push against his chest, lifting yourself to a seated position. Jeongguk thinks he'll cum immediately if you even so much as giggle. Or maybe he'll die. Both will feel just euphoric.

Instead, your movements are slow as you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt. You lift it - just a little. Just enough. You can't see anything - but the way Jeongguk is straining his neck just to take in the sight of his cock buried in your pussy? Yeah. You know it's worth it.

"See anything now?" you tease, but he notices how breathless you sound. Are glad it's taking a toll on you. The base of his cock is covered in lube, but he can see a subtle change in texture where your pussy is stretched out around him. Knows that it's because your anatomy is desperate to have him fucking you, even if your brain is telling you otherwise.

Except that's the thing.

It's not.

Every morsel of your being wants to fuck Jeon Jeongguk.

It's only made worse when he smirks. 

"Nah. Can't see anything," he rasps. "Lift yourself up a bit?"

Never one to do as you're told, you shake your head. Sink back down to his chest - but the movement of your torso encourages your pussy to slide up his cock just a tiny fraction. Jeongguk fucking groans. Grabs hold of your ass and holds you in place. The change in position, no matter how small, has you struggling to catch your breath.

"Gguk," you mewl.

He nods. Understands. Can't fucking breathe either. Assumes from the way your entire respiratory system seems to be failing that the shallowness of his cock means that he's hitting you in all the right places. You're pulsing around him. Wonder if knows that the ridge of his head is cushioned perfectly against your most delicate spot.

"Deeper," you whisper, fearful of what will overcome you if he stays there - and so he pushes further into you. Holds you in place.

"Shit, Byeol," he finally husks, before realising just how close your lips are to his. His nose nudges against yours. He can feel your laboured breaths. You can feel his. His fingertips squeeze the flesh of your ass. You fucking moan. "Fuck. Don't do that. Don't..."

You're so close that he's having to fight every instinct telling him to press his lips to yours. A rule is a rule, and Jeongguk doesn't like breaking them - but he does really fucking like asses, so he squeezes again. Gets you mewling. Gets himself all worked up.

"Byeol," he whispers, chest rising and falling at such a rapid speed he can barely get his words out.

"Mhmm? Still okay?"

He nods. Grips onto your hips. Does nothing with them. Just holds. Keeps you still. "Okay. It's okay. It's... Fuck. Byeol, it's good."

"Good?"

"Mhhm," he grunts. Moves his hips to adjust your position. Gets you all moany, too. Makes your walls throb. Just a little. Just enough. "Shit. Yeah. It's real fucking good. Jesus Christ. Can you-"

He's cut off by your walls throbbing again. You know it's what he was gonna ask. If you could make it happen. You think you might be able to bring him to orgasm with that alone. You do it again.

"God, Byeol," he curses. Looks at you. Wishes you were naked. Wants your tits in his face. His hips pulse again. It's subtle, but - fucking hell - it's deep.

"You can't fuck me," you whisper, reminding him of the rules, as if you aren't dying to fuck him too.

"Says who?" he whines. "I think fucking is a really good idea."

There are two things certain about horny Jeongguk: he will trip over words, and he will convince himself that bad decisions are good ideas.

"Mhmm, yeah, may as well just ride you now," you tease, knowing full-well you won't. He understands the tone of your voice, but decides to push his luck for the fun of the flirt.

"You wanna ride me, huh? Bet your tits would look incredible."

"Flattery gets you nowhere," you tell him with absolute certainty. 

Considering this all came about because he lied, you should really know better than to tell fibs - especially when he's inside of you. 

Flattery is actually getting him everywhere . You're fucking leaking. Getting the base of his cock all messy. Your body is screaming at him: fuck me.

One of his hands grips your hip to keep himself snug, as he uses the other to sit up straighter. There's a small shift in the position of his cock, but it only serves to let more of your juices seep from your cunt. He can feel how damp the top of his thighs are, now. Knows it's not just the lube. Knows it you. 

Your faces are level as one of his arms wraps around your back. Your instincts tell you to grind - and that's not really fucking, is it? Just a languid movement or two surely isn't sex?

His cock is inside you. There's no debate to be had. You'll both defend yourself till the cows come home - but to any normal person, this is definitely fucking. 

Jeongguk's nose nudges against yours. His voice is breathless as he husks, "get yourself off."

He'd do it himself, but he knows you. Know what you're like. Knows that it's an issue you're yet to work through.

"Sure?" you whine, in desperate need of release. This, you think, is the closest to torture you'll ever get. 

"Please," he nods. Remembers how it felt to have you climax around his fingers. Wants it again now. He adjusts his hips. Desperately tries to feign innocence. 

"I know what you're doing," you grin against his neck, your forehead resting on his shoulder. "Behave yourself."

"I am," he pouts. 

"Stay still," you say regardless. "You won't feel it otherwise."

You let your hand drop between the pair of you, and start to rub dainty circles against your clit. It's easy to find - swollen and engorged - painfully neglected for far too long. Your head tips back, and Jeongguk's spare hand rest against the base of your neck.

"That's it, pretty. Get yourself off. Fuck."

And there's that flattery again. You're fucking ruined . You press harder against yourself. Rub faster. Spank your clit once, twice - and smirk when Jeongguk moans from the sound alone.

"Shit, yeah," he encourages. "Gonna make yourself cum so hard, aren't you? Gonna cum all over my cock? That's it. Oh shit, yeah. That's it."

His hip pulse - just a little bit - but you can't blame him. Your walls get tighter. Jeongguk grunts. You fucking moan. His grip on your throat? Yeah. That gets tighter too. 

"Eyes on me," he demands - and you fucking comply. Of course you do.

"Gguk," you mewl, but cut yourself short. The feeling is growing too strong. You can't hold it off any longer.

He nods. "Tell me."

Your free hand grips the back of his neck. The orgasm you're building has your body tensing. Lifting. Moving up his cock. It's almost as if your body knows to get the ridge of his head pressing against your g-spot. You can barely get a word out. It's all too much.

"I'm-" you try, but it's muffled by your own moan. " Gguk ."

"You wanna cum?" He asks, his voice tender and gentle and so incredibly fucked out that it's miracle you haven't fucked him. You think you'd lose it if you heard Jeongguk's voice mid-fuck. You don't realise it sounds a hell of a lot like this.

"Mhmm," is all you can manage, nodding your head. His grip on your neck is so incredibly dominant that you lose all capability of making your own choices. "Can I?"

"God, yeah," he lets out a breathy laugh. "God, I want you to cum so bad. Wanna feel you. Wanna- oh, fuck . That's it Byeol. Cum all over me. Good girl. That's a good fuckin' girl."

His words coax a climax out of you, body shuddering, pussy trembling around his cock. It's violently fast and yet terribly slow all at the same time. He hugs you tight to his chest. Holds you through your orgasm. Breaks one of the rules, and presses a kiss against your hair. You don't really notice. 

You do notice the way his legs shudder against your ass just as you finish coming down, and how he hugs you to his chest even tighter. How he fucking whines. Stammers. "Oh, fuh- Shit. Shit, Byeol."

And then his hips pulse beneath you. Once. Slow. Deep. Strong. "Fuck."

They retract. Repeat. Once. Twice. 

His lungs suddenly heave, as if he's been his breath the entire time. He pants. Laughs. Tilts his head back. Looks euphoric beneath your neon light. Confirms your assumptions. "Came."

You laugh, too. Slowly lift your thighs and let him slide out of you. He hugs you still. You hug him right back. It's nice. Really fucking nice. 

"We're never fucking doing that again," he smiles as his hands rub up and down your back in the most soothing of ways.

"Oh?" you question, nestling your head into the crock where his neck meets his shoulder. "Not a fan?"

He shakes his head. "Fucking torture. Next time I'm inside you, I'm just fucking you."

It amuses you how tender his hands are as they stroke your back, but his words are just as vulgar as they always are. 

"We shouldn't fuck," you tell him, a smirk on your lips, heart not beating quite right yet. "Wouldn't wanna ruin the friendship."

Jeongguk thinks it would be impossible to ruin something as good as this. 

"Good job we're not friends, then," he jokes. "Can't stand you."

"Oh yeah, my bad, I forgot," you play along. "And I'm just using you to get closer to Jimin."

"Fuck off," Jeongguk laughs. "Why drink Smirnoff when you could drink Grey Goose instead?"

You roll your eyes at his little barman analogy, and pull away to get yourself cleaned up. He's sad to watch you walk away. Doesn't even want to look at the mess you've made together.

"Hey Byeol," he calls after you. "About that shower?"

He hears you laugh. Can picture your pretty little face as you do so, and how the glitter from your eyes is practically all over your face now. He likes it. You're cosmic.

"My place or yours?"

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[seeingivy]

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

--

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you. 

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song. 

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it. 

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions. 

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show. 

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating. 

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?” 

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-” 

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?” 

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-” 

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.” 

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?” 

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now. 

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.” 

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together. 

“Hi Con.” 

“You okay, man?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?” 

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-” 

“Not her.” Eren whispers. 

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.” 

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk. 

Could always get you to talk. 

“You tried Levi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ” 

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.” 

“Connie?” 

“Yeah?” 

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed. 

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.” 

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.” 

“Yeah man. Sure.” 

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren. 

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom. 

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time. 

“What?” 

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video. 

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for. 

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times. 

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side. 

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well. 

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?” 

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke. 

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.” 

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.” 

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head. 

“You know, you still do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.” 

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after. 

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?” 

“Perfect. Wear this one.” 

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.” 

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf. 

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress. 

“Love?” 

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door. 

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.” 

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin. 

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.” 

“Oh? Really?” 

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on. 

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.” 

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.” 

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.” 

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.” 

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding. 

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.” 

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.” 

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“What was that for?” 

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers. 

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page. 

“Okay, Eren. Good?” 

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you. 

“Eren.” 

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more. 

“It should be illegal-” 

Kiss. 

“To look like this.” 

Kiss. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” 

Kiss. 

“Doing what?” 

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.” 

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.” 

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.” 

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once. 

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers. 

“You said my name.” 

“I say your name all the time.” 

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.” 

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?” 

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face. 

“I like how you say it. Y/N.” 

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.” 

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face. 

“What’s that?” 

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.” 

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back. 

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.” 

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur. 

“Huh?” 

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice. 

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks. 

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?” 

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine. 

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?” 

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.” 

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips. 

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?” 

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-” 

“Too bad.” 

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after. 

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back. 

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?” 

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.” 

“What’s the song called, Y/N?” 

“Dress.” 

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss. 

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach. 

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.” 

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.” 

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.” 

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out. 

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you. 

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better. 

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

--

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky. 

“Hey.” 

“How many?” 

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him. 

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face. 

“Ricky.” 

“Yes, babe?” 

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?” 

“For fun! You smell really good.” 

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward. 

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later. 

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror. 

“Baby’s first Met Gala!” 

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says. 

“For?” 

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.” 

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh. 

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically. 

“What flavor is the cupcake?” 

“Chocolate.” 

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger. 

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.” 

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.” 

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.” 

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast. 

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.” 

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-” 

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for. 

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.  

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event. 

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books. 

You’ll take a win where you can get one. 

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated. 

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it. 

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support. 

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls. 

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts. 

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.” 

“And if Lana comes up to me?” 

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.” 

“And if Eren comes up to me?” 

“I’ll give you a big kiss.” 

“Ew. Don’t do that.” 

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.” 

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder. 

Are you and Ricky official? 

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N? 

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons? 

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night. 

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile. 

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.” 

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?” 

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at. 

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces. 

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after. 

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him. 

“Oh god.” 

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond. 

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.” 

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.” 

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.” 

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.” 

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side. 

“Oh?” 

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek. 

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers. 

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!” 

“Thank you! So do you.” 

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?” 

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.” 

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?” 

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera. 

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.” 

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond. 

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink. 

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?” 

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny. 

“I think it’s flattering.” 

“Really?” 

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you. 

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.” 

“Ricky.” 

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.” 

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink. 

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning. 

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling. 

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern. 

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?” 

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on. 

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet. 

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue. 

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it. 

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto. 

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.” 

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth. 

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet. 

You nudge Megumi in the side. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” 

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group. 

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.” 

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison. 

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond. 

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds. 

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.” 

“He did.” they all respond in unison. 

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side. 

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.” 

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice. 

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch. 

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song. 

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response. 

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.” 

“Very good friends.” you respond. 

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away. 

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.” 

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time. 

“What’s your problem?” 

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.” 

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.” 

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.” 

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room. 

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” 

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.” 

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.” 

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands. 

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down. 

“What do you want, doll?” 

“Nothing. I got bored.” 

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka. 

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.” 

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask. 

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs. 

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte. 

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask. 

“Eren told me.” 

You look over at him, giving him your best glare. 

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair. 

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.” 

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.” 

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.” 

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily. 

“Okay?” you respond. 

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?” 

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him. 

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances. 

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks. 

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.” 

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?” 

You smack him hard on the shoulder. 

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.” 

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.” 

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond. 

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.” 

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.” 

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.” 

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?” 

“God. You’re pathetic.” 

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.” 

“Do you want to kiss now?” 

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him. 

“You never change, do you Sukuna?” 

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.” 

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.” 

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.” 

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear. 

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.” 

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.” 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting. 

--

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor. 

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you. 

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.” 

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink. 

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.” 

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered. 

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!” 

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night. 

Y/N:  Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes. 

Y/N:  Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco:  Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better. 

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen. 

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes. 

“You okay?” 

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper. 

No matter how long I resist temptation  I always lose  It hurts to be something  It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math  There’s no solution  We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this? 

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away. 

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

--

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen. 

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner. 

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played. 

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand. 

“What’s this?” 

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.” 

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle. 

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?” 

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.” 

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter. 

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.” 

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down. 

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond. 

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand. 

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.” 

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to. 

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?” 

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past. 

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door. 

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned. 

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window. 

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.” 

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you. 

“Huh?” 

“That was me.” he responds, again. 

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together. 

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker. 

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head. 

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes. 

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch. 

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice. 

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.” 

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.” 

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify. 

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says. 

“Okay.” 

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial. 

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping. 

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry. 

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking. 

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder. 

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"  

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."  

“I need you to come get me, Eren.” 

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

--

--

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai  @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

[soft-and-bitter]

We Can Last Forever

Mafia!Bucky x Ex!Reader

You turn to an old flame in a moment of desperation. Bucky takes full advantage of the situation to bargain for something he's wanted as soon as he set eyes on you.

Word Count: 1853

Warning(s): swearing, descriptions drug use and sexual situations

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

M A S T E R L I S T

"Look who we have here," he murmured, smirking. There wasn't a trace of worry in his tone, nor on his handsome face. And for reasons you couldn't quite grasp, these facts only served to elevate your own stress, the urgency of the situation now clearer than ever.

Bucky was your last resort.

"Hi," you greeted. Despite the sheer brevity involved, even you could hear how unsure you sounded, but it was just as well; you were winging this after all, what with all your options up in flames. On the other hand, you also couldn't fuck this up either, because what else would you come up with if this didn't work out?

With a deep breath, you tried again. "Hi, Bucky. I'm sorry this is so last minute."

He tilted his head, the black turtleneck he wore accentuating the steep line of his jaw. "It wouldn't have been if you'd called ahead of time. Oh, wait," he said, lip curling, "you got rid of my number from your phone. How could I have ever forgotten?"

You looked away, both hands gripping your phone behind your purse. Rather than place it next to you on the plush sofa, you'd opted to set it on your lap. Maybe you saw it as a barrier, however meagre, just something other than the distance that separated you from Bucky. For protection? But it was you who had sought him out, not the other way around.

There was no stilling your frantic thoughts, all those contradictions and uncertainties colliding against each other to form some ugly kaleidoscope of confusion in your head. Several stories below, the club was at the height of its frenzy, the bass throbbing faintly against the walls of Bucky's office, a cursed soundtrack to score the situation you were in, with no promise it was ending anytime soon.

"I . . . it felt like the right thing to do at the time," you tried explaining, still clutching your phone tightly. "I wasn`t ready to deal with the truth."

He chuckled softly. "Yet here you are," he said, each word sliding past his lips in a slow drawl. "I guess there's no keeping me out of your life after all, despite that text of yours."

You turned your head to look back up at him again. Bucky was leaning against his expansive chrome and glass desk, long fingers curled around the edges. His jet-black suit was tailored within an inch of its life; one of his cufflinks winking at you playfully, as if amused by your discomfort and panic.

"You're right, I guess I can't."

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Well, it is what it is. Now tell me why you're here."

Here was your moment, your golden opportunity. You didn't shy away from the details. Why would you when everything you described was all part of his sordid world, the drugs and the money owed, the nefarious parties involved? And so you laid it all out before him like a spread made up of your family's suffering: stressed and overworked, David had gone back to an old habit his dirt bag of an uncle had first introduced him to more than a decade ago. One hit after another, then another, and now your brother—the smarter of the two, in your opinion, and certainly the more successful—was now in so much debt he'd brought up the possibility of selling your mom's home for cash.

Bucky didn't react when you told him how much you needed to borrow. That soothed your nerves somewhat; if he wasn't fazed by the amount, then maybe he'd be more willing to part with his money.

You hoped.

"We'll have the money back in your hands before you even get a chance to miss it," you assured with a smile you hoped was blinding enough for Bucky. "David just has to get through this hump, but once he does, everything will be fine."

Just for a moment you wondered whose worries you were really trying to assuage—Bucky's or yours? Because paying off David's dealer was one thing, but your brother had also promised to check into rehab asap. Yet even with his high-paying FAANG job in Silicon Valley, he had already blown through his savings, together with any credit he'd been approved for. To top it all off, the massive bonus he kept harping on about wouldn't get paid out until the end of the year. You yourself had funnelled whatever money you could spare to help his cause. Where the hell would the money come from until then?

Bucky sighed audibly, pulling you out of your thoughts. "You haven't exactly explained why I should help you in the first place," he said.

He wasn't wrong, you realized. And really, it was what you`d hoped to avoid all along. "Listen, I know you probably won't believe me when I say this, but . . . I guess I thought we had something special going on between us. Special enough that I felt I could turn to you."

"You're right, I don't believe you," he confirmed, shaking his head. "Try harder, won't you?"

You stared up at him, a furrow between your brows. "It's the truth, Bucky. I was scared, okay? And let's face it: you knew I'd be, didn't you? Otherwise you would've told me from the start what the hell you really were."

He didn't respond to that right away. In the silence that ensued, with the club's bass pounding at the same speed as your heartbeat, you began to doubt yourself. Couldn't you have handled that with a little more finesse? What if Bucky was offended by your response that he decided he was going to turn you away?

When he finally spoke, it was with an edge of mockery and triumph in his voice. "Just so we're clear: you've come to ask a crime lord to help you when the very fact of me being one had you running off in the first place."

"I couldn't think of anyone else to go to."

Bucky scoffed. "I sure hope the irony's not lost on you."

The smile you offered him was sardonic at best. "Believe me, it's not."

Just when you were convinced that you'd screwed this up entirely, Bucky pushed himself off the edge of his desk and moved towards you, closing the distance. Neon blue strobe lights flashed through the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the club, casting otherworldly shadows across his face as he stalked nearer. You didn't turn your head to watch when he dropped into the sofa next to you, stretching his arms wide across the headrest. His fingers feathered against one of your shoulder blades.

From the corner of your eye you watched as he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, sighing once again. "If you want my help, you'll comply with whatever I set out for you," he said.

"Like what?"

You could feel his gaze on you. "For starters, I'd like a kiss."

"Are you serious? Now?"

"Now," he echoed.

"And that's it?"

He gave a light shrug. "The night's still young. We'll just have to see how things go."

"But why?"

"Why not?" he countered, fingers drumming against the headrest. "Besides, you're the one who thought there was something special between us. Let's see what's left."

For a moment, you hesitated. Bucky's request was simple, but that was where the uncertainty lay. There was something between the two of you, even now, even after you left him in the lurch, that it was enough for you to reach out to him. You were doubtful a kiss would prove that to him, though.

There had been so much more you'd done with him, after all.

"Well?"

You studied his face. His expression was still passive, but curiosity shone bright in his eyes. What choice did you have? David was counting on you now, his own fear and panic elevating your own. With a tilt of your head you leaned forward, eyes falling closed, as you caught Bucky's lips with yours.

Bucky didn't react at first, and you nearly stopped, too shy and uncertain to entertain the possibility of being unwanted, that this was just a cheap way for him to get back at you. But then his lips moved against yours, bold and intentional; when he coaxed your mouth opened and his tongue slid past your teeth, you realized.

He still wanted you.

Both your phone and your purse dropped somewhere below you as one of his arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly. Bucky drew you in deeper, his hold fierce, lips desperate and bruising, pulling you into a well of memories: his naked body against yours, mouth lingering on intimate spots that made you cry out in ecstasy, the sweet words he'd whispered in your ear while you came down from your high. Let me give you more. Let me give you everything. You just have to stay. Can you do that? For me?

His lips latched onto the side of your neck as you lost yourself further in his touch, fingers tangled in his dark hair, while his large hand fanned across your breast—

Your phone was like a grenade going off. You jerked back in panic, gasping for breath while the familiar melody on your device blared throughout the room. It was Bucky who got to it first.

"How fitting," he said, turning your phone around so you could see the screen. "It's your brother."

Heart hammering in your chest, you didn't move at first.

"Go ahead, answer it," he ordered, holding out your phone to you. "Tell David the money will be wired to his account in less than thirty and he's got you to thank for this."

His words were like a bucket of cold water flung at your face. With sudden clarity you remembered why you'd come here in the first place, and it wasn't to re-ignite things with an old flame. You needed Bucky's help, and, to your immense relief, he was giving it to you.

When you accepted your brother's call you cut straight to the chase, telling him of the lifeline Bucky was throwing his way. The only one, you emphasized, hanging up before he could profess any gratitude. David had work to do, but you'd done your part. Your mom would get to keep her house, just like she deserved to.

You looked at Bucky. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to my family."

He smirked at you, his hair now tousled thanks to your doing. "Don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. We're not quite done, are we?"

During the call one of his hands had crept along the inside of your thigh. It remained there, his hold entirely too tight and too hot, even through the fabric of your slacks. When Bucky spoke, you didn't miss the raw desire in his voice, the predatory anticipation that lingered on his smirk.

"We'll finally finish what we started, sweetheart. Just like we were always meant to."

Jimin's "Like Crazy" had me in such a chokehold when I first listened to it that it inspired this whole damn story; it's the song I imagined blasting down in the club while Reader haggles with Bucky. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

[atlafan]

You fucked up again. Just when Harry thinks you've learned from your mistakes, you go and do something ten times as devious. Which is why he's giving you that same glazed over look, the one where he's concocting severe punishments. It's not anger, it's almost exhaustion. It's giving, "how many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man" from Spongebob. But unlike last time when you accidentally pushed him too far, this was purposeful.

Harry has a grueling job. He works a lot of long hours, he has to deal with idiots all day long, and he cannot stand the other partners at his firm. You were his saving grace. You, who was working as a para-legal just to support yourself while you ran your online jewelry store, started assisting Harry. You'd pull the files he needed. You could type more than 100 words a minute. And you had been so innocent. Not naiive, not a prude, but you were blissfully ignorant, and Harry found that to be very cute. So, when you inevitably started hooking up after one too many long nights together, he opened your eyes to a whole new world of kinky sex. He was so serious about it, explaining that he needed someone to be rough and mean with, but also craving to take care of someone and spoil them with affection. And because he had made you come so hard you cried, you were hooked on him, so you went with it.

You've been together a year now, you live together, and you're thinking of maybe getting a dog soon. You don't report directly to Harry anymore, though. You assist another person in another department. It was the only way you two could date without it being a big deal for the firm.

Tonight is a big night. They're announcing the new junior partners, and since Harry is a senior partner, he gets to pin the two people he's been mentoring. He's actually pretty excited about it, or he was until he saw you step out of the bathroom and back into your shared walk-in closet. He's standing there, half dressed, frozen with fury as he watches you pick out which rings and bracelets you're planning to wear. You double take after seeing the look on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked innocently.

"I told you not to wear that dress." He responded lowly.

"You asked me not to wear it, and I never agreed or disagreed. You can't tell me what I can and can't put on my body, Harry."

"You're making me sound controlling, that's not what this is about. You know you look stunning and sexy in that goddamn red dress, and you know it drives me insane because I know for a fact that you're not wearing anything underneath it. That's why I asked you not to wear it. I saw you eyeing it the other day, I should have known."

"I can't wear underwear with this, the fabric is too clingy and I hate having panty lines. It's just a dress. Show some self control."

And that's when the look changed. You swallowed hard and tried not to falter under his gaze. He slowly stalks toward you, still half naked, his abs and other chiseled features fully on display.

"I have plenty of self control." He said as he hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "And you know better than anyone else that I love showing you off and letting everyone around us know that you're mine and mine alone and that they'll never know you or have you the way that I do." He brings his fingers up to squish the sides of your cheeks. "You have plenty of other dresses. I'd like you to go put a different one, and save this one for my eyes only."

"No." You say through your puckered lips.

"No?"

"No."

"That's final answer?"

"It took me forty-five minutes to get ready, I'm not starting over. The hair and the makeup go with the dress. I'm not changing."

He looked you up and down, smirked, then let you go. You watched him carefully as he pulled his shirt and suit jacket on. You weren't sure what he was going to do, but you're standing your ground on this.

"Babe?" He calls to you from the bedroom, so you leave the closet with your ruby clutch in hand and meet him by his dresser.

"Do you need help with your tie, sweetheart?" You ask ignorantly.

"No, I'm not wearing a tie tonight. I'm doing the open button thing, but thank you for offering. Pull up the skirt of your dress for me."

You furrow your brows but does as he says. He gets down on one knee and starts kissing up your leg. He pulls something out of his jacket pocket and your stomach drops. He hears you gasp, and he looks up at you wickedly.

"I'm going to put this inside you."

"Harry, please, this is a work event, I can't have my come dripping down my legs."

"It won't be come because you won't be coming. I'm going to do as I please with this tonight." He turns the little egg-shaped vibrator on and holds his phone up next to it to pair to the Bluetooth. "Perfect. Alright, spread 'em." He looks up at you, his features turning softer. "Do you need your safe word? It's okay if you'd rather wait until we get home to be punished. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"No." You smile softly down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "I'm okay, daddy, go ahead."

He kisses the inside of your knee as he works the toy inside of you. He stands back up and taps one of the settings in the app to give you a test vibration to make sure it's working properly.

You're in for a long night.

What puzzled you most was that Harry hadn't done anything to you yet. He didn't turn the toy on in the car. And you've been at the party for an hour already, and he still hasn't done anything. The anticipation has been killing you. Maybe that was his plan all along. You see your boss and roll your eyes as he stuffs his face with shrimp from the raw bar. You hate him. Part of you wanted to wear your red dress tonight because you wanted to show that sweaty hog that he could look all he wanted, but he'd never be able to touch you.

It's when you're taking a sip of your martini while talking to some of the other paras that you feel the toy kick on. It's starts off with little pulsations, then moves along to steady vibrations. You pinch your thighs together as discretely as you can. You're starting to sweat, and you're starting to let little noises out. You're covering them with coughs and whatnot, but after ten minutes of this, you're starting to get uncomfortably wet. It's all so torturous because as good as it feels, you're not getting any external stimulation, which you need in order to come, so this is all just edging. And you love being edged, so even though it's torture, it's also the absolute best.

Harry knows this. He can see it on your face. You two lock eyes, and you pout at him, pleading. He can't resist you for long, not while you're wearing that dress. Before he can get to you, your boss approaches you, which makes Harry stop short. You had mentioned how he had been such a douchebag lately. He wants to watch the exchange.

"You look incredible." Your boss grinned.

"I know." You snap.

"What are you doing wearing a tight thing like that for? It leaves little to the imagination."

In your head, you don't see how that's true. It's a mermaid style halter with an open back, and the front is separated so you can just see the outline of of the inner parts of your breasts. But because it's a gown, there's an air of class to it. Your hair is up, plenty of pieces out in the front to frame your face. You look stunning. There are plenty of women at this party dressed similarly.

"Don't look at me too much, then." You respond after taking a careful sip of champagne. You're sweating while having that stupid toy inside you. You have to grit your teeth and pinch your nails into your palms to stay composed.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. I think you wore this to get my attention, not that you need help in that department."

"You're being inappropriate. I wore this for myself. I like the way I look in it. It's also one of Harry's favorites, so-"

"I can't believe you're still with that guy. He's like a lump on a log. He's only charismatic with his clients, you know?"

"We live together, so I'd like to think I know him pretty well."

"You deserve to be with someone that can make it so you never have to work another day in your life."

"I like working."

"No one likes working."

"I just said I like working."

"You like making jewelry. Wouldn't you rather do that full time?"

"I-" Your breath hitches when you feel the pulsations start to work in tandem with the vibrations. You're going to kill him.

"Are you feeling alright?" Your boss takes one of your hands, but before he can do anything else, Harry comes up and puts his arm around your waist.

"Bill, she really doesn't like it when you touch her. Look at her, she looks like she's going to be sick, so instead of continuing to make her more uncomfortable, why don't you just walk away. You get away with too many things here, but not for much longer."

"Is that a threat?"

"If you want to take it as one, be my guest." His grip on your hip tightens and you can't help but whimper. "Excuse us." Harry's hand moves to the small of your back to lead you out to the coat check room. He gets you in and locks the door behind you. "Are you alright?" He cups her jaw and looks you over."

"Yeah, th-thank you for getting me - shit - away from h-him." You grit your teeth and pinch your eyes closed, bracing your hands flat against Harry's chest. "Please, I can't...I can't take much more of this, it's been almost two hours."

"I know, and you've done so well for me. I'll turn it off and take it out if you tell me why you wore this even after I asked you not to. I know you can put whatever you want on your body. I just like it when you save certain things for me, for us."

"I hate my boss." You say, still bracing yourself against him. "He makes passes at me all the time. I just wanted to torture him a little, to let him know he'll never know what's underneath all this fabric."

"Sweet girl." He tilts your chin up so you'll look at him. "If Joe was being that big of a prick, why didn't you say something to me?"

"I don't want to run to you to fight all my battles for me. I need to be able to lean on myself."

"If he's sexually harassing you, then you should come to me so I can go with you to HR. You know they don't listen unless someone of higher rank complains. It's fucked up, but that's just how it is. I want the culture to change, but it's slow going."

"I know." You cry, almost feeling ready to drool from how worked up you are. "You're not one of the cogs in the machine, and that's one of the many things I love about you, Harry. I'm sorry I upset you by wearing this because I know you're only upset because you just want to rip it off with your teeth"

"That's right." He backs you up against the closest wall, not caring about any of the coats hanging up being knocked to the floor. He kisses you hard and hot, bending at the knee a bit to get a hand under your dress. He moans into your mouth as he slides his fingers through your folds. "You're soaked, beyond soaked."

"Please, daddy, please." You say breathlessly as he plays with you.

"You sound so good when you're begging. Keep going." He nips at your earlobe before licking and sucking at your neck.

"Please, take it out, daddy. Then you can fuck me in here and I'll do whatever you say."

"You'll need to be quiet. I'll have to stuff the toy into your mouth." He brushes your bottom lip with his thumb and you nod. "Need your safe word?"

"No, god no."

He smirks and pulls the toy out of you, pressing down on the button to turn it off. He whimpers when he feels so much of your slick drip out. He puts the toy inside his own mouth first, moaning at the taste of you, then he puts it into your mouth. He hikes your dress up and immediately gets his middle and ring fingers inside of you. You whine around the toy and clutch at the lapels of his jacket as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, beating into your g-spot. The heel of his palm works to ground down against your clit, making your head roll back. He sponges kisses to your throat as you tug at the hair on the back of his head. Your eyes burst open when you feel yourself start to get close. You're going to explode, and you're all of a sudden worried about ruining the jackets in this closet.

"Don't you dare hold back on me. Fuck the jackets, baby, make a mess." He growls, pounding into your harder.

You're moaning uncontrollably around the toy. You start gushing with his fingers still inside of you, and he doesn't let up. You're coming hard and it feels like it's going to be never ending. This is why you like being edged. You'll take a solid sixty-second orgasm over a ton of little quick ones. Harry slows down his pace, weaning you off of him, before taking his fingers all the way out. He sucks them into his mouth as he fixes your dress. He takes the toy out of your mouth and stuffs it into his jacket pocket while you take his fingers to lick and suck on.

"My good girl." He coos, caressing her cheek. "My good, fucking girl." He catches a glimpse of his watch and sucks his teeth. "Shit, we need to go back to the main room. The pinning is going to start soon."

"Okay, just, let me catch my breath." She says. "Daddy, is my makeup all fucked?"

"Only a little." He wipes under your eyes for you. "Still gorgeous as ever."

"Thank you." You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight. He holds you close, giving you gentle kisses and whispering sweet words into your ear. "Thank you." You whisper. "Can we go home after the pinning?" You ask as he opens the door and you walk out of the coat check room.

"Eager for daddy's cock?" He grins.

"Always."

[brooooswriting]

Hello can I request a fic with Sam carpenter x reader where the reader is seriously an idiot and just follows Sam everywhere like a lost puppy and they’re already in a relationship you can feel free to add anything I just thing this trope is so cute

Stupid, but cute

Sam Carpenter x reader, Tara Carpenter x reader (platonic)

“I really don’t know how you got into college” Tara laughed, you did too. Both of you were tumbling over from laughter while Sam watched from the couch with a grin. You honestly also didn’t quite know how you’ve gotten into college, it was actually more your athletic skills that got you in. Tara was nice enough to try and tutor you so you’d do okay in your exams but doing literature with you was more of a comedy act than anything else.

Sam always thought that you were pretty cute and good looking, at least until she finally talked to you. At first, she thought you were being rude and made fun of her but Anika explained that you weren’t, you just weren’t really smart. You didn’t get sarcasm or irony, it took you a bit longer to get jokes and sometimes your stupidness came of as rude. But when Sam got to know you more she realized one thing: you were actually a sweetheart, a a bit stupid one, but a sweetheart nonetheless.

You often followed Sam around like a lost puppy, it was no surprise to the older girl that you had a concentration deficit which made it hard for you to concentrate when it was loud, crowded or if there was anything that could have your attention.

It was the worst at parties, everything was screaming at you when you walked into that frat house and it didn’t take long for you to loose your group and especially Sam. After a second of panic you decided to roam the house thinking that you’d find her somewhere.

And you did, after 30 minutes and talking to a lot of people you finally found her, in fact also looking for you. “Sam, look, they gave me dextrose candy” you grinned as you held the small see through bag up to show it to her, your smile reaching your eyes until Mindy bursted out laughing. “Y/n, honey, those are drugs” Sam had a comforting smile on her face while your smile sank, Mindy and Chad were still laughing their asses off while Anika and Tara tried to hold back so you wouldn’t feel too stupid. “But they said it was candy” your voice was small, child-like, “did they wink at you while saying that?” Anika asked you causing you to nod, “then that was a code for drugs” she explained with a comforting hand on your shoulder.

After the others came down you guys split up, Tara went to get a drink, Anika and Mindy sat down, Chad found Ethan and you, well you just followed Sam around until she sat on a couch. You immediately sat down next to her, her hands wrapping around your neck and pulling you into a kiss.

Some time later Sam went to the bathroom, while you decided to stay on the couch as it made it easier for Sam to find you. You were just looking around, being completely in your own world when Anika came to you. “We need you” she told you and grabbed your hand pulling you towards some stairs, “Tara’s drunk and that guy won’t let her go” she explained causing you to tense.

Yes, you were extremely stupid, no question. But you had different qualities, you were strong and extremely protective of your friend group and there was no way someone was taking advantage of the smaller carpenter.

“Hey asshole, Tara’s good down here” you called over the music causing him and Tara to turn around. “Y/n” Tara mumbled barely standing on her own feet. “She’s fine. Now go mind your own business” he laid a provocating hand on your shoulder causing you to flip. You pulled on his arm so he was falling down the stairs, your hand immediately connecting with his face. “Leave her the fuck alone”

By now Sam was there and helped Tara up, “y/n, enough. Let’s go” she called out after your third punch to his face. You stood up with a grunt and followed her outside.

Later you two cleaned Tara up and went to bed.

Two days later Tara decided to help you again as a thank you. “So this is your homework for romantic literature?” She asked you and you nodded proudly. “You seem proud of your work” she stated with a smile, this would be great. “Yes, I think I really understood what he wanted to say” Sam grinned as she sat on the couch, reading some book while listening to your conversation. “Alright”

After around a minute Tara was, again, tumbling over with laughter. “Please tell me this is a joke” she got out between laughs, you looked at her confused. “Y/n, you literally wrote: ‘he’s saying that he likes her boobs’” she laughed out, suddenly Sam laughing too. “Hey, that’s what he’s saying” you protested still sure of your work, “he is expressing love for her body but you can’t write that he likes her boobs” Tara was still giggling but continued, “I really see why you fell for her Sam, she’s a helpless romantic”

The older girl laughed and walked towards you while you poured, “that’s just rude” you mumbled. Sam walked up to you and kissed your head, “well, I think she’s cute” your pout turned into a smile. Turning your head, Sam gave you a kiss which gave you new motivation.

After around 2 more hours Tara finally made something out of your work that you could give to your professor. “Alright guys I’m gonna go to the store so we can cook later” Sam said and walked out of the apartment, you immediately following.

Funnily, she only noticed when you were in front of the apartment, “babe, what are you doing?”

“Going to the store with you?” “Why?” “Why not?” Sam laughed and grabbed your hand as she started to walk towards the shop. In the shop you pushed the cart, putting in sweets and other unhealthy stuff while she put it all back. “Can we have this cereal?” You asked with puppy eyes, “no” she only answered looking at her list. “Pleeeaaaassseee, Tara likes it too. Come on” you whined causing her to sigh but agree. After a small celebration you kissed her cheek and went back behind the cart.

“Baby” you stretched the word already causing her to sigh, this couldn’t be good. “Can we have Dino nuggies?” You asked, “no, definitely no” she answered as she tried to look everywhere but your eyes. “Please, we can have them with mashed potatoes and broccoli” you had a small pout on her lips that made her break. “You’re a child” she told you as she went to pack the ingredients into cart.

“What are we eating for dinner?” Tara asked as you came back, Excitement radiating off of you, “Dino nuggets” you exclaimed, Tara’s jaw dropping. “You got Sam to buy that?” She was shocked, she never got those. “This is only because of what happened two days ago, don’t get used to it” Sam intervened causing you to laugh.

Later that night you and Sam laid in bed cuddling, “Sam?” You mumbled into her neck, “yes baby?” Her hand was rubbing over your arm. “I’m sorry that I’m stupid, I know it makes everything a lot harder” her heart broke when you said that causing her to turn towards you. “Y/n, I love you the way you are and you have so many different qualities. I mean just look at how you protected Tara! You are the biggest sweetheart I know, so don’t say stuff like that alright?” You nodded and leaned in to kiss the older girl.

You weren’t smart, but you were a great person nonetheless and you had a family that loved you more than anything else.

[multi-fxndom446]

Pretty like the sun

Alex Keller X Reader

Summary: you are upset with Alex for constantly leaving you in the dark, unaware of his reasons for doing so. (This is a part two for his ‘you came? You called scenario that I will link)

Warning: hurt/comfort, blood mention, gun mention, Alex being so in love with u idek

Word count: 4.3k

.

Again this is a part two to his scenario in you came? You called.

I wanted to write it as its own fic, sue me.

His part one is here

(Also screw this man for being this goddamn hot. Who let that happen??)

Alex could remember the last time he saw you clearly. He could remember every last detail about it only because it ended in an argument between the two of you. One of the worst ones you’ve ever had.

You had hunted him down the moment you found out he was back on base, steam practically blowing out of your ears as you leveled him with a glare. He was cornered in his room the minute you set foot in it.

You had been mad at him for falling off the face of the earth again. For calling you at the last minute again. Although he didn’t call you into the mission this time he had called you for intel for the mission you didn’t even realize he was on and Admittedly you had every right to be upset and he knew that and that’s why he stayed silent and took your anger.

He tried to apologize but you weren’t having it, you were so angry at him that you told him next time he called you doing this shit you weren’t picking up.

He didn’t believe you.

He believed you now though after you didn’t pick up his third call and he had to resort to calling Captain Price. Which he knew if you wouldn’t hear him out you would hear the Captain out, your respect for him was always unwavering.

He believed he could smooth it over when he saw you in person but the moment he saw Farah practically run away he knew he was wrong.

He could see the hurt in your eyes when he looked down at you and he knew right then he crossed a line he wasn’t sure he could fix now

The way your words held such annoyance told him everything he needed to know. You were pissed, rightfully so. Not only pissed at him but the situation, pissed at the fact you came running to him once again.

He could still feel the sharp jab of your finger to his chest as he now sat further away from you ‘inspecting’ his gun while he took multiple glances in your direction.

The jab to him didn’t hurt nearly as much as your words that seemed to settle deep in his bones. You announcing to him that you both weren’t okay worried him. It made him feel like this could truly be the last time he saw you.

“So are you going to explain now?” Farah came out of nowhere, taking the spot next to him as she got her weapons ready as well.

Alex stayed silent long enough for her to look up at him. She rolled her eyes when she saw the look on his face. “Alex I’m not stupid, there’s something that happened.” The gun clicked in her hands as she assembled it. “You both denied being exes so it’s something else but there’s definitely something so talk.”

“There’s really nothing.” Alex said, taking another glance at you. You were there speaking with Gaz about something with a small smile on your face, a smile he missed seeing this whole time.

Farah followed his line of sight to see you before she turned back to Alex who was now aggressively loading his gun. “Alex..” his movements halted at her tone. It was the authoritative one she used when one of her soldiers wasn't cooperating.

He sighed, setting his gun down next to him. He looked over at you one more time before settling on Farah, who’s whole attention was on him—waiting. “We enlisted at the same time.” He started as he picked up his hand gun. “We were practically inseparable, every mission we went on, we went on together.”

Farah watched him as he got lost in his story while his hands got more aggressive with the hand gun. “We trusted each other with our lives and it just worked. We trusted each other to get the job done no matter if the others life was at risk, we knew they’d get out of it alive.” His jaw was clenched tight as he loaded the gun. “And it worked. Until one of the last missions we went on together. She got compromised. She told me to leave her to get out of there to finish the mission but I didn’t listen. I went after her and I saved her, but in the process I almost jeopardized our mission and put our men’s lives at risk.”

“Alex..”

“I knew I was starting to gain feelings for her for a while at that point but I trusted myself not to jeopardize anything over it. I trusted myself to let her do her job.” Finally with a click the gun was finished being prepped and he had nowhere to look but at Farah. “But I couldn’t…I couldn’t let her die. After that I started taking missions alone so that wouldn’t happen again and more often than not I’d drop off the face of the earth and it took a strain on us. This last time I did it seemed to be the final straw.” He explained, looking down at his hands.

“So you stopped going on missions with her because you couldn’t trust yourself not to go after her in a crisis?” Farah clarified and he nodded, “yet you call her to this one?”

“She’s one of the best soldiers I know. I never said I couldn’t trust her to get the job done.” He was quick to defend but Farah had her brows pinched in worry.

“But you don’t trust yourself?”

Alex sighed, “we’ll be on different teams and she’ll be with the Captain.” He could see the doubt on her face. “I’ll get this done Farah. This is more important than my inner turmoil. I know that and she knows that.”

Farah just shook her head. “But does she Alex?” He must’ve looked confused because all she did was sigh and stand to her feet. “Obviously whatever feelings you have are mutual, you should talk to her before this mission.”

“No no, the last thing I need to do is distract her.” Farah crossed her arms.

“But you won’t be distracted?”

“I promise..” he said looking up at her. “I promise I won’t.”

“I’m trusting you on this.”

“You can, I’ll get it done.” Farah hummed and gave him a look that he knew meant she wasn’t entirely convinced but she left it alone and walked away to help everyone else prepare.

Alex watched her go before he took one more risky glance at you. His breathe caught in his throat when your gazes connected. He couldn’t even bring himself to wave or smile because you were frowning at him and turning away before he even could.

He remembered that day vividly. The day he almost lost you, it played on repeat in his mind continuously. So much so that he often had nightmares about it. How what if he didn’t go to you, what if he left you or what if he didn’t make it in time? You wouldn’t be here glaring at him.

He remembered you desperately telling him to go, to leave you and he stood conflicted. one foot already moving in the direction of your location while the other was firmly planted to the ground.

He remembered his men grabbing onto him, trying to yank him to the evac but still he wouldn’t move. His entire world seemed to slow to a halt that day.

He wanted to trust that you would get out, that you would live because you always somehow managed to do just that but then he heard your ear piercing scream and gunshots.

The world seemed to start spinning in that moment when he took off in your direction, ignoring the calls of his men behind him.

He remembered when he made it to you, you were barely clinging to life. You had your gun clutched loosely in your hand trying your best to kill any enemies that came near but you ran out of ammo.

The rest of your team was dead caused by the ambush that nearly stole you from him so he was quick to help you up. He put your left arm over his shoulder while his right went around your waist to help you walk.

He got you out, but he almost missed the evac. He got you out, but he almost got his own men killed when they started to get surrounded at said evac.

When you woke up in the hospital days later, he told you what happened and although you weren’t mad at him he was furious with himself because not even two beds away there was one of his men that got injured trying to hold down the evac site while they waited for him.

It's what made him decide he could no longer go on missions with you. He accepted a while before that, that he had fallen in love with you, he even accepted that you wouldn’t feel the same and probably even be mad that he’d drop what he was doing to run to you like you were a damsel in distress.

But then you didn’t get mad at him and suddenly he was faced with the possibility you felt the same. And he knew that at some point one of you would jeopardize a mission, the worst part was he wasn’t sure he would regret doing it if it meant you got out alive.

Alex always prided himself on being a good soldier. It was something as simple as breathing. He was a good soldier and a decent person..he followed the rules and did as he was told by the higher ups. But when it’s you at risk he can’t do that.

In a last second decision he decided that Farah may be right and he should just talk to you, rip the band aid off and get everything he needed to say off his chest.

He got to his feet and took only a few steps in your direction calling your name. You barely had time to turn around before Price clapped him on the shoulder. “Alright we’re heading out, you ready Alex?”

Alex watched you glance over to him before you followed Gaz and he let out a short sigh. “Affirmative sir.” Then he was being pushed in the direction where Farah and her soldiers were loading up.

The whole way to the mission site Alex couldn’t stop thinking about how Farah probably was right. He should’ve talked to you because he never knew if the next mission would be his last. He could hardly live with the regret of not telling you he didn’t want to think about how he’d feel having to take it to his grave, he was sure he’d roam this earth forever if that were the case.

The moment the mission was in full swing Alex was laser focused. Both teams were together and he wasn’t wondering about your status because he was right next to you as if he just gravitated towards you. To used to fighting by your side when you were on the field together.

Subconsciously the two of you seemed to fall back into the way you used to fight together. Covering each other's asses like you used to back when you went on every mission together.

The moment you went down to reload he’d cover you and then when he would be out in the open throwing a grenade you’d be right beside him keeping him covered. You called to each other effortlessly.

It was one of the many reasons you were always paired up in the beginning. You worked well together, angry at each other or not.

Then came the moment the teams had to separate. It was fast, almost unnoticeable how your eyes connected with his and you mouthed a quick ‘stay alive’ before you were turning away and he was leaving with Farah.

He knew in that moment he was right to stop going on missions with you. The entire time he was away from you he felt like his heart was squeezing tightly in his chest like some sort of string that was attached to you pulled on it and made him weak.

Farah spared him one glance before the real fight began almost to ensure he was still with her and although he was she could see that there was the tiniest bit of himself that was focused solely on you. But she could also see he was determined to ignore it.

And he did just that the moment his detonator was destroyed.

He ignored the want to know if you were safe the entire time he was fighting the man in a juggernaut suit and the entire time they swept out the rest of the enemy forces.

He ignored it for as long as he could until he couldn’t anymore and he was face to face with Farah, grabbing onto the broken detonator as he prepared to sacrifice himself.

It was a situation he was dreading, he didn’t want to die. But he also couldn’t help but be happy it turned out this way instead of the way that equaled him losing you. He had faith you would move on eventually, he couldn’t say the same for himself if he lost you. No matter how selfish it sounded.

“Alex…” Farah called softly, watching him hesitate at the door. He looked at her from the corner of his eye as he tried not to let her see his inner conflict.

He wanted to tell you, but would it be too selfish of him to do it in a situation where he would likely die? Would you ever forgive him if he did?

“Tell her.” His head snapped in the direction of Farah who held a knowing look on her face. “She deserves to know. No matter what happens when you walk out that door she deserves to know.”

Alex stared at her for a long moment before giving her a soft smile. “I’ll be quick.” She nodded and watched him walk further away for some privacy. “Y/n come in.”

It was silent for a moment and he was worried you would ignore him then your voice finally came through, slightly muffled. “Alex? We’re setting the bombs on our end, you and Farah good?” You asked him and he could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“Can you switch to a different channel?” He asked, diverting away from your question. You gave a quiet okay before flipping to the channel he requested. “I don’t have a lot of time but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Alex, you're making me nervous.” You sounded out of breathe and he wondered if you were still in the process of setting the last of the bombs and it almost made him feel guilty again. When he stayed silent for too long you called his name urgently.

“I-“ he paused, second guessing again in a situation he shouldn’t be taking time to think. ‘Rip it off like a band aid..’ he told himself, taking a deep breathe. “I’m in love with you.”

He heard you pause. “What?”

“I’m in love with you.” He said again making sure you understood every word he said. “I’ve been in love with you and I’ll continue to be in love with you even after whatever happens next.”

“Whatever happens next…?” He could hear the panic starting to rise in your voice. “Alex this isn’t funny. You better tell me you have the bombs placed and are ready-“

“My detonator is broken.” He confessed quietly, letting the statement settle in the tense silence as you processed his words.

He could hear you take a breathe, “Alex, don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.” He felt his heart break the same moment your voice did. That invisible string he felt around his heart tugging harshly. “Alex!”

“I have to go detonate it myself.” He could practically feel you stop breathing at the realization. “I’m sorry this couldn’t be done the way I wanted it to, and I’m sorry for disappearing on you all those times. I just couldn’t put myself in a position where I could lose you again or put everyone else at risk.”

There was a long pause where he was worried something happened but then he heard you take a shaky breathe. “And you think I want to put myself in that position Alex?! You think I don’t want to run to you right now and tell you you’re stupid?!”

“But you won’t.” His words cut deep. He knew you would go to him on a moment's notice. He knew if he called to you, you would come but he couldn’t let that happen because it wasn’t just your life, it was Farahs, it was her people and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did what he asked. “You have a job to do.”

He heard you sniff as you tried to contain your tears. “Alex, you better come back to me. I won’t forgive you if you disappear from my life permanently.” He could hear your voice crack. “Come back to me Alex.” You begged and a sad smile lifted on his face.

“Yes ma’am.”

Then he was turning back to the door and running through not even letting himself think about the fact you hadn’t gotten to tell him you loved him too.

But it was a moment in which you would feel for the next coming days and months as his words would live on repeat in your head.

~~

It had been months since he last saw you.

Months.

It was safe to say Alex was nervous. He was practically shaking where he sat with Farah on the back of the truck, his leg bouncing anxiously as they got closer and closer to Farahs base.

From what Captain Price told him, before he and Gaz left their separate ways, you were at Farahs base and you had been for a while.

“Think she felt pretty guilty after what happened.” Price told him with a small sigh. It made Alex feel like shit because it would be just like you to feel guilty over something he did. It would be just like you to try and pay back his sacrifice in any way you could even if you didn’t have too.

“You don’t have anything to worry about Alex.” Farah finally told him when she got tired of hearing his foot bounce against the metal of the truck. “I think a lot of her reasons for staying with me is because it made her feel closer to you.”

“Does she know?” Alex asked, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’ve been gone for a while, does she know that I’m-?”

He didn’t even want to finish the sentence. If you had thought he was dead this whole time he didn’t know what he would do. Farah made the executive decision awhile ago to not have you involved in the mission Alex went on so there was a possibility you didn’t.

“She knows you're alive. As for where you were…” she doesn’t continue but she doesn’t have to, he knows what she’s trying to say. She never gave away that she knew his location and Alex had no idea until now that you were so close this whole time.

He figured it was better this way. It let him focus his entirety on the mission but now the mission was over and he was growing more anxious as the base finally came into view.

The moment the truck came to a stop he felt like his whole world started moving in slow motion. Sounds become muffled as if he were underwater. He couldn’t focus on anything else, nothing else mattered except the fact you were on the same ground as him.

His eyes glanced everywhere the moment he was standing on solid ground. Head snapping in every direction as he took in every face that passed by him. He heard Farah call his name but didn’t care until she grabbed his arm and suddenly sounds became crystal clear for him.

He looked down at her and when she saw she had his attention she nodded her head in the direction of the bunkers. “Come.” She let go of him and he was left to blindly follow her.

Alex followed after her silently for what felt like an eternity. When he opened his mouth to finally question her she came to a halt right outside one of the meeting rooms she had.

He went to ask what she was doing when he heard it. Your voice. The same voice he’s been missing for months.

You were talking over more game plans with some of Farahs soldiers and Alex felt like his heart completely stalled. You sounded just as beautiful as the last time he spoke to you when he confessed his feelings.

Farah glanced up at him to see his reaction and almost wanted to laugh when all he could seem to do was stare at the closed door. You were so close to him yet he couldn’t get himself to move so she made the first one.

She opened the door with no hesitation and gave you and everyone else a kind smile as she greeted you. “Y/n, hard at work I see.” You didn’t see Alex yet, he was still stuck out in the hallway in disbelief.

“As always Commander.” You laughed softly and it was like music to his ears.

Farah smiled at you before motioning to her people, “will you guys leave us? There’s something I need to discuss with Y/n.” They did without question, dodging past Alex who still had yet to move.

“Something wrong?” You asked when you were alone. He could hear it in your voice, the worry. You were worried she had more news on him and you were worried it wasn’t good.

“I have something for you.” You stared at her in confusion before the door behind her opened softly and your eyes were immediately drawn to it.

You felt your breathe hitch. There stood just behind Farah was Alex who looked just as breathless as you were. You were stunned, your arms that had been crossed fell to your side as you took him in before you started moving towards him, eyes never leaving his. He watched you nervously as you slowly made your way around the table to come closer to him.

“Y/n…” he said softly, nervous as you came closer to him with a look on your face that he couldn’t decipher. He was almost sure you were going to punch him in the face which he would accept wholeheartedly.

But then as he was spewing out apologies trying to get you to listen to him you stopped right in front of him, grabbed onto the vest he had yet to take off and pulled him down to you. Crashing your lips together.

Your other hand that wasn’t clinging to his vest wrapped itself around his neck and his quickly wrapped his around your waist to pull you flush against him.

In the background he could faintly hear the click of the door as Farah left to give you both privacy. But he honestly couldn’t care if she stayed or not, not when you were finally in his arms again.

You kissed him like you had been deprived of oxygen for the months he was away from you, he was sure he wasn’t any better as one hand came up to tangle itself in your hair trying to keep you as close as possible.

When finally you pulled away from him for air you didn’t go far just far enough to gain your breathe. You stared up at him in a way that made his heart ache, like you were wondering if you were dreaming.

When he opened his mouth to say something you beat him to it. “I love you too.” You said softly, smiling at the way his eyes widened and a relieved grin formed on his face. “You didn’t give me a chance to say it.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere and he was. He wished more than anything to hear you say those words. He wanted to hear them the moment he realized his feelings. “I came back to you.”

“I knew you would.” Both your hands came to rest on his face while you took him in, fingers tracing delicately across his jaw reveling in the way he shivered at your touch. “Your hair is darker.”

He laughed. It was your attempt at not pointing out his obvious missing leg. “You’re just as beautiful.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss to your lips while his hands fell back down to your waist. “I’m so sorry..”

“Alex you don’t have to-“ you shook your head but he stopped you.

“I do.” He said sternly, “I need to say it to you properly. I’m sorry. For everything. For making you worry about me, for disappearing, for not telling you any of this sooner. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flickered between his as his words settled in the air, he had a small frown on his face but refused to look away from you. Relief flooded him the moment your lips turned up and your fingers ran over his cheeks. “I forgive you Alex..”

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding and pulled you in for a small kiss. “I love you.” He whispered against your lips

You smiled and pulled him back down to you. “I love you too.” You murmured before closing the distance again, feeling him smile against you.

—

Hope yall like it I tried really hard to live up to expectations 🙏🏻😭 thank you for everyone who requested a part two for him tho love yall

[s-sturn]

𖥔 SLUT!

summary: Matt ends up reuniting with his ex-girlfriend, making some feelings come back to the surface, but he was already dating Y/N.

warnings: cheating, kissing, sad, crying, ANGSTT!, there’s no happy ending, cursing, threats!!

part 2 (coming soon…)

masterlist!

THIRD PERSON POV

Matt walked the streets of Boston, taking Trevor for a walk.

He hummed small songs, until he bumped into someone very recognisable, Leah, his ex-girlfriend.

The brunette was in a relationship, but the feelings his heart felt when he hit his eyes on the blonde-haired girl was an emotion he never felt with Y/N.

The two started talking a lot, exchanged numbers and scheduled to leave to see each other again. As the week Y/N went by, he realized that Matt was on his phone a lot, laughing, and ended up forgetting his own girlfriend.

The brunette felt upset during the days she saw seeing Matt, who practically didn't care about Y/N. As the weeks went by, Matt started to leave the house a lot, something that was not normal for the boy, after all he hated to leave the house.

The light-eyed boy never let Y/N, who was his own girlfriend touch his phone again, which made the girl very suspicious of it, after all, Matt was never like that.

This weekend, Y/N would go again to the house of the triplets, at this time the brunette and Chris were extremely close, and this was good for the girl who overnight stopped receiving attention from her boyfriend, who before wiped her tears and today is the cause of them.

Matt had invited Leah to go to the boy’s house, which was dangerous, but the two did the same way.

The blonde entered hidden inside the triplet house, the fact was that Matt forgot that Y/N would also be there. As always, Y/N went up the stairs going to greet her boyfriend, if she could call him that. But when he opens the door he is faced with the scene that broke his heart, Matt kissed his ex-girlfriend on his bed.

━━ What the fuck is that? ━━ Y/N's voice came out crying, while the girl looked disappointed at the boy, as well as his brothers.

━━ Y/N! Fuck! I can explain! ━━ Matt quickly walked away from Leah running after Y/N but his brothers tried to stop him

━━ Explain what? That you were kissing your ex? I've already seen that! ━━ Y/N's eyes teared as she tried her best to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

━━ Slut, didn't you see that you got in the way of my moment with my future boyfriend? ━━ The girl with blonde hair mocked.

━━ Bitch, go fuck yourself and shut up your rotten mouth. ━━ Nick told Leah totally angry with her and Matt.

I leave the house quickly, hiding the tears that finally fell, Matt ran after me calling me, I just ignored him going away to never look him in the face again.

A few weeks after the breakup, Matt and Leah finally took over the return of their relationship, which broke my heart.

Soon I get a message from Chris, asking if I would like to go to the ice cream parlor with him, which I am afraid of, but I end up accepting.

We spent the day having fun, and I ended up being distracted for a few moments about everything that was happening.

A few minutes after I arrive at my apartment, I see the publication of a gossip page, saying that after Matt takes over his relationship with Leah, Chris appears in an ice cream parlor next to me.

I opened the comments of the publication coming across several people cursing me as a slut, whore and even home destroyer, saying that Matt separated from Leah because of me and that now Chris and Matt have moved away because of me too.

I opened my dm, coming at threats from several people, calling me a traitor, without me having done anything.

That killed me once and for all, that I'm literally being hated, for having liked a boy.

tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice

all because I liked a boy.

taglist.

@junnniiieee07

answer this post if u want to be in my taglist!

[waitimcomingtoo]

hoax ~ p.p

chapter one: just a sweet, sweet fantasy

series masterlist

Despite the fact that Peter had been pining for you the last three years of college, he had never had a conversation last more than a few minutes with you. As hard as he tried, he always got flustered and ran out of things to say or just made the conversation awkward. You never noticed him the way he noticed you, even after you were paired up with Ned for a school project last semester and your friend groups merged in the process. Peter thought his luck will change now that he was running in your circle, but all it did was make it more evident to him that he didn’t have a shot with you. You only saw him as a friend, and even that was an exaggeration of your relationship.

“Hi.”

You jumped a little when you heard Peters voice and looked up from your phone. You hadn’t even noticed that he was already sitting at the table you agreed to meet your friends at. It was pretty common for you not to notice Peter, but that didn’t mean he’d ever stop trying to get your attention.

“Oh, hi Peter. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. How are you?” You asked politely.

“I’m good. You?”

“Good. Thanks for asking.” You replied. You then pulled your phone back out and started to text, making all conversation cease.

“I like your skirt.” He said after a long beat of silence. You looked up in surprise since you thought the conversation had ended.

“Aw, thanks. That’s so nice of you to say.” You smiled before going back to your phone. He sighed in defeat even though this was how your conversations, or lack there or, usually went.

“Yeah, no problem. It’s like jeans but…not.”

“Oh, yeah. I think it’s called denim.” You laughed awkwardly and didn’t know it was was socially acceptable to go back to texting.

“Right. Denim.” He nodded, and conversation ceased once again.

“I like that it’s pleated.” He said after a full minute of silence.

“What?” You asked and looked up from your phone again.

“Your skirt.” He explained while his face turned bright red. He knew he was beating the death out of the skirt topic and it was made even worse by you knowing the same thing.

“Right, my skirt. Thanks. So do I.” You smiled politely again and touched the skirt.

“Hey losers.” MJ said as she approached the table. Peter heard you sigh in relief over not having to be alone with him anymore, and he couldn’t even blame you.

“Hey. Sit with us.” You smiled and patted the table. MJ sat down and the awkward tension dissolved with the presence of a third person. Your other friends, Kate and Gwen, soon joined the table too and the dynamic of the friend group was restored. Much to his disappointment, you and Peter seemed to lie in opposite ends of the friend group. You were friendly with each other, but also couldn’t be left alone together without maximum awkwardness ensuing. You were the people that would laugh at each others jokes in a group setting but never be able to hold a one on one conversation.

“Did you do the trig homework?” MJ asked you.

“Oh yeah. You need it?” You asked and put your backpack on the table to get your homework out. Peter looked up and noticed a pin of Spider-Man’s mask on your backpack. He did a double table and looked at you in surprise to confirm the backpack belonged to you.

“Is that a Spiderman pin?” He asked you.

“Oh, yeah. You haven’t heard? He’s her latest obsession.” Gwen teased you.

“For the record, I’ve always liked him.” You insisted. “I’ve been a fan since day one. The obsession has just gotten worse as I’ve realized he’s the only man for me.”

“Wait, really? He is?” Peter asked with a surprise smile.

“Please don’t get her started.” Kate whined. You ignored her and leaned towards Peter to talk to him.

“You know when you have a celebrity you like and you just know that if you ever met, you’d be great friends?”

“Of course.” Peter shrugged. “Dylan O’Brien would be my best friend if we ever crossed paths.”

“Exactly. That’s how I feel about Spiderman. Except instead of friends, we’d be lovers.” You said simply. A blush painted Peters cheek to hear you talk about him like that.

“Sounds like you really like him.” He smiled shyly.

“I’m in love with him. I have so many videos of him saved on Tik Tok.” You laughed and pulled out your tik tok to show your friends your collection of saved videos.

“Girl. 407?” Gwen gasped. “You’ve saved 407 edits of Spiderman with sexy songs in the background?”

“Um, yeah. I watch them before I go to sleep.” You shrugged and pulled your phone back. Peter was stunned to silence to hear how deep your obsession ran.

“You need help.” MJ snorted. “You don’t even know him.”

“I feel like I do. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone you haven’t met yet?”

“I have.” Peter spoke up, making you smile.

“See? I’m not crazy. Just a romantic.” You sighed. The conversation changed subjects and Peter was silent as he thought about what he had heard from you. After three years of being hopelessly in love with you, he may have just found his way in.

A few days later, your group agree to meet up in the library to do homework together. Ned was still out sick with the flu, so Peter didn’t have his crutch to lean on. You arrived early to the library and saw that Peter was the first one there. You gulped and braced yourself for the awkwardness that was about to happen and sat down across from him.

“Hey, Peter.” You said politely. He looked up at you and blushed before trying to think of something cool to say.

“Hey. How’s it going? How are you?” He asked.

“Pretty good. I’m a little stressed out over this stupid paper but Gwen said she’d help me today. How are you doing?”

“Really good. And you? How’s it going for you?” He asked before realized he already asked that.

“Uh, I think we covered that.” You joked.

“Right, right. You’re still good, I’m assuming. And, uh, nice shirt by the way.” He complimented you.

“Aw, thanks. It was my moms back in the 80s.” You smiled at him and then opened your laptop, ending the convo.

“I like your hair too. Did you change it?” He asked to try to resuscitate the conversation.

“No. I haven’t washed it in a few days. It’s just greasy.” You laughed awkwardly and ran your fingers through the it.

“Oh.” He gulped. “Well, it looks good.”

“Thanks.” You smiled again just as the rest of the friend group joined you. You both seemed to relax now that everyone was there and you no longer had to limp through a conversation. Peter didn’t say much as the group talked about homework and weekend plans but snuck glances at you the entire time.

“Wait a minute. Why do you have a magazine? What year is this?” MJ laughed and pulled a magazine out of your open backpack. You gave her a playful look and snatched the magazine from her.

“Because. Look at this picture someone took of him yesterday.” You smiled cheekily and laid the magazine out for the table to show them a picture of Spiderman.

“Oh my God. Please. It’s too early for this.” Kate playfully whined and banged her textbook against her head.

“This is the most detailed photo I’ve seen of him yet. It’s so clear. I bet he’s so cute under the mask.” You sighed happily and looked at the picture again. Peter watched the way you stared at the picture in the way he’d been looking at you all these years and smiled to himself. He’d never been able to turn your head, but he was pleased to know Spiderman could.

“Or he’s 30 and has a greasy little rat face.” MJ grimaced.

“Stop it. Don’t ruin my fantasy.” You said and playfully smacked her arm. She laughed and wrapped an arm around you while you continued to stare at the picture.

“Fantasy?” Gwen smiled coyly. “Uh oh. Spill.”

“Okay, so I have this fantasy where he sees me walking home and drops down from the sky to walk me home. Just to make sure I get there safely.” You told the group with a dreamy smile.

“Oh. That’s a lot less erotic then I thought it would be.” Kate said in disappointment.

“Oh, trust me. I have plenty of those. But I’m not sharing any of them here.” You smiled coyly and drummed your fingers on the table. Peter gulped when he realized what you were talking about and turned bright red.

“What else do you fantasize about?” Gwen asked you.

“Mostly him saving me from danger. But low key danger. I don’t want to actually be in danger danger. Maybe just tripping on the sidewalk and he catches me. Or, you know, he stops a car from crushing me like in Twilight.”

“This little crush of yours is getting out of hand.” MJ laughed and shook her head. “You’re literally asking to be crushed by a car now?”

“But imagine how amazing it would be to be his girlfriend.” You gushed. “He could swing me around the city in his arms and kiss me on the top of the Brooklyn bridge. Or take me on dates on the top of the Empire State Building. I want it so bad.”

“So stand in the street until a car comes near you and wait for him to swing you to safety.” MJ said sarcastically.

“Don’t give her ideas.” Kate groaned.

“You don’t think I’ve considered that? I’d do anything for a date. Just one. I swear, I could get him to fall in love with me. I just need one chance.” You sighed and picked up your magazine to admire it.

“I bet he would.” Peter spoke up. You looked at him over the magazine and smiled.

“See? Peter supports me. At least someone’s on my side.” You said and gestured to Peter. You made eye contact with him again and this time, it didn’t feel awkward. You liked that he was being supportive, no matter how silly your argument was.

“I think you’d make a great couple.” Peter continued, making you smile once again.

“Thank you.” You told him. “Now I just need to find a way to talk to him.”

“Maybe leave a couple flies on your windowsill.” Peter suggested. All the girls looked at him in confusion and he felt embarrassed that his joke didn’t land.

“Because he’s a spider. And they eat flies.” He shamefully explained. You stared at him slack jawed for a moment before throwing you head back laughing.

“That was genius.” You laughed. “Although, I hope he doesn’t actually eat bugs. I don’t think I could kiss a guy who eats flies.”

“He doesn’t.” Peter said with such certainty that everyone looked at him in confusion again.

“I’m….I’m guessing.” He lied. You smiled at him again before going back to talking to your friends. The conversation faded to background noise as Peter constructed a plan in his head.

After class that day, Peter changed into his suit and hung out on top of a building to watch the people walking in and out of campus. If you wanted to talk to Spiderman that badly, he was gonna bring Spiderman to you. Finally, he spotted you walking to your dorm with your earbuds in as you typed away on your phone.

“Hey! How are you? I’m Spiderman!” He whispered to himself to practice what he would say to you.

“No. That’s stupid. She already knows it’s me.” He grumbled. “Hey! What’s up? It’s me, your friendly neighborhood giant fucking loser Jesus Christ this is so difficult. Okay. Just be normal. Just talk to her. Just…”

Peter trailed off when he heard the sound of an engine revving. A car was speeding down the street and heading right towards the blissfully unaware you. Peter immediately jumped down and landed between you and the car, putting his hand up to stop it right before it could hit you. The car bent against his hand and came to a halt as Peter held you close to his body. People on the street gasped and started to take picture while you gasped for air. You pulled your earbuds out and looked at Peter in disbelief.

“Hi.” He said through the mask.

“Oh my God. It’s you.” Your voice shook as you tightened your grip on him. You were shaking with adrenaline and fear so he tightened his grip around your body.

“It’s me.” He said weakly. He had almost seen you die but now had to pretend you were a stranger he had never met before.

“You just saved my life.” You told him as a smile crossed your face.

“It’s my job.” He said simply. Your smile grew and you threw your arms around him in a hug.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his ear. Peter blushed under the mask and hugged you back. People on the streets clapped and took videos, but you were unaware of any of it. The man driving the car got out just as the police arrived to take yours and Peters statements. Once you were all squared away with the police, Peter wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Let me get you somewhere safe.” Peter said before swinging you a few blocks away from the sight of the crash. You held on tight and let out a happy scream as he swung you since it was a dream of yours coming true. When he set you down, you smoothed your hair down and looked at him.

“Thank you so much for saving me. I’m such an idiot. I was so focused on my phone that I just mindlessly kept walking even when the walk sign wasn’t on.”

“You’re not the idiot. That driver was. He was going 60 miles an hour in a school zone. It wouldn’t have mattered if the wall sign was on or not. I’m just glad I could be here to stop the car.”

“Just like Twilight.” You whispered to yourself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m just a little starstruck.” You admitted with a shy smile.

“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

“I know. But I’m kinda your biggest fan.”

“Well, I’m flattered. It’s nice to have a fan.” He chuckled through the mask. For the first time, Peter actually found it easy to talk to you. Conversation was flowing and he didn’t even have to try.

“I’m seriously obsessed with you. I’ve been following you since you first started, back when I was in high school. I think what you do is amazing. And now that you stopped me from becoming street meat, I’ll love you forever.” You told him before you knew what you were saying. You felt embarrassed to be freaking out so much over him, but he didn’t seem to think it was weird.

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled shyly at the sound of you promising to love him forever.

“Good. And I promise, I’ll never look at my phone while walking again. I’ll be super careful from now on.”

“What were you so focused on anyway?” He wondered.

“Oh, um…” You trailed off and just showed him your phone instead of trying to explain. It turned out the thing that had distracted you so much that you almost got hit by a car was a Tik Tok of footage of Spiderman edited to the song Deep Throat by Cupcakke. You smiled in embarrassment while Peter burst out laughing.

“That’s…intense.” He said once he regained his composure.

“I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. I said I was a fan.” You laughed and relaxed a little. You felt like you were being so weird, but he seemed to enjoy it.

“Can I walk you home?” He offered, making you light up.

“Really? I mean, yeah, sure.”

Peter put a gloved hand on your back and started walking with you back to your dorm. Conversation flowed easier than it ever had before and Peter felt like you were meeting each other for the first time. Talking to you as Spiderman was the antitheses of talking to you as Peter. His jokes didn’t fall flat, there was no awkward silence, and you were the one constantly complimented him.

“You know, I’ve fantasized about this very moment a million times.” You admitted to him as you neared your dorm.

“Have you?” He smiled coyly.

“Yeah. I just didn’t think it was actually gonna happen.”

“I don’t mind walking a pretty girl home. Maybe it can happen more often.” He timidly suggested. You stopped walking and looked at him to see if he was serious.

“I would like that.” You grinned.

“Cool. I’m smiling back at you, by the way. Sorry, I know it’s hard to tell under this.” He joked and gestured to the mask.

“It’s okay. I actually could tell.” You told him. Peter smiled only again and felt his heart swoon for you. You got to your dorm all too soon, meaning this conversation had come to an end.

“This is me.” You smiled sadly and pointed to your building. “Can I ask you something? Before you go?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“How old are you?” You said, close to a whisper.

“21.”

“Really?” You gasped. “Me too. You have no idea how relived I am to hear that.”

“Relieved? Why?”

“Because now I know my crush is age appropriate. So I can fully indulge in the fantasy. And because now I get to laugh in my friends faces who thought you were 30 or something.”

“It’s not really a fantasy if it’s really happening, is it?” Peter said as he stepped closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat and you broke into a dreamy smile.

“Trust me. It’s definitely a fantasy.” You sighed happily.

“Well, have a good night.” Peter said and squeezed your arm.

“You too.” You replied as you touched where his gloved hand had just been. Peter looked over his shoulder to wave at you before swinging away. Once you thought he was out of earshot, you let out a happy scream and jumped up and down. But you were never out of ear shot when it came to Peter, and he heard the whole thing with a grin on his face.

🖤🕸️🖤

chapter two is out now!

comment if you want to be on the taglist

Tag List 🏷️

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[aristocratic-otter]

Hey, for once I’m posting early!  Thank you to : @blackberrysummerblog, @rimeswithpurple, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @artsyunderstudy,

@roomwithanopenfire, @larkral, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @wellbelesbian, @letraspal,

@prettygoododds, @bookish-bogwitch, and @whatevertheweather (good to see you back!) for the tags over the last two weeks. 

The summer has been good for me. I’m getting organized and having more time to write! I’ve started the new fic I teased a couple of weeks ago (the one that I was waiting to start until Heart in The Well finished). It’s probably going to be my angstiest one to date, fair warning. 

Here’s one snippet from each of my WIPs 

From Saving Simon Snow: 

“So, you think,” Bunce says slowly, “that the act of casting a spell is calling more magic to the area?”

“Kind of,” Simon says.” His lips twist and he tugs at his sleep-matted curls as he tries to work out how to explain himself. Then he shakes his head. “Actually, no. Not calls more magic. More like takes the magic that’s already there and concentrates it. Gives it a shape. Like, Normals are the source of magic, right? And they produce magic in and of themselves, but they can’t use it. It’s just, like, loose and spread out around them as they go about their lives. But then mages, we use words to give that loose magic a form, and that pulls it together, right? Pulls it into the shape the mage wants it to have. And so doesn’t that mean that Mages are pulling magic from the magical atmosphere each time they cast a spell?”

From Snow Fox: 

Every nerve in my body is on alert. 

I sent the boys home. They’re probably not the reason I’ve been betrayed, but right now, I can’t trust anyone. 

Except Simon.

I need to get to Simon. 

But first…I need to make sure I’m actually alone.

From TikTok Dancer: 

He’s dancing alone. His friends are there, running the music and cameras, but they’re also different. Quiet and focused. Also, if I’m reading their expressions correctly, they’re just a little bit worried, as they watch Simon dance. 

The whole thing makes me feel unsettled and oddly light. Like there’s a bubble of helium in my chest that will soon lift me right off the ground. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that Simon Snow never takes his eyes off of me when he dances. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

When I’m feeling greatly daring, I travel back to our home beach. I stop a distance away, and stay behind trees or rocks, but it gives me some comfort to watch the flicker of shadows in the firelight as Simon moves around performing his evening routine. It’s the only time I allow myself to watch him. If I see him during the day, my priority is to stay out of sight, but there’s little danger that he’ll go traipsing about looking for me after dark, so the darkness is my ally.

It hurts, to see him. But it’s a pain that fortifies me. After a few minutes watching him, I’m able to rest more peacefully knowing that he’s safe and well. The pain of missing him subsides enough to let me continue to live without him.

From Cupid’s Shield:

 “Baz, fight it. You have to. The anathema—”

Now I know he’s aware, in some form. I see fear on his face and tears forming in his eyes. But, at the same time, he’s reaching up to the collar of his own shirt, and ripping it away from his skin. 

That’s it. He’s helpless against Cupid’s spell. He’s going to lose everything because a fucking god with a grudge tore his free will away.

That’s probably my fault too. I pissed Cupid off. He must have hunted down Baz because I was immune to his arrows. That means it’s my responsibility to fix this. 

“Please,” he whispers.

From The Rat and the River

I’m aware that I don’t need to be out of bed right now. Simon Snow will be completely fine without me seeing him off. I could probably sleep for the hours the team will be gone, as there won’t be much for me to do until they’re back. 

Like I could sleep when Simon is out there. In the hot zone. 

It’s a sensationalistic term, “hot zone,” but it captures how I feel about the area of highest risk of infection. Hot, as in getting in hot water or hot as in playing with fire. 

Also hot as in Simon Snow is the hottest man I’ve ever known, even in a shapeless white positive-pressure suit, but that’s irrelevant right now. 

And from my new project, untitled as yet, the following: 

I feel myself slipping. 

Other than the daily cup of blood with a bendy straw, I haven’t seen light in weeks. Maybe months. And for the last several days or weeks, I’ve not even had that. I’ve woken up from a doze to find the blood already inside the coffin with me. I spend more time drifting, semi-conscious, than I do actually awake and aware now.

After all, there’s nothing good about being awake and aware. 

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