#but specifically trope-y fics where they make it trope-y

[moreaugriffins]

I'm running on very little hours of sleep, and now find myself giggling over the idea of La Banda (both mint group and bank group. the whole family, alive and well, as they should be) being drunk and childish, playing party games (never have i ever etc), and in a game of truth or dare, Andres gets the cliche dare of 'kiss the prettiest woman' - because he's made it super clear his love for women - and he gets huffy because why women specifically? (he has very little interest in kissing any of them) and they're like '🤨 person then? lol' and he full on kisses Martin, to everyone's surprise, including martin, and Andres just shrugs and says his best friend is far more handsome than anyone else, that's why they're friends, he'd never bother with someone he didn't deem beautiful (basically i think it's funny if he kissed martin, and was still oblivious to his own feelings because of his own weird straight logic™️ - poor martin is probably dying from being kissed, and from knowing andres likes him but doesn't seem to realise it, and Helsinki's giving him a comforting pat on the back)

[fairyhaos]

❖ marshmallow smile // joshua hong

joshua x gn!reader, 1.8k+ words

tags: non-idol au, fluff, food mention, yn is a Mess, shua blushes very easily, absolutely cheesy romcom-style trope in this fic, basically shua pretends someone bought yn a drink but surprise!! it was him!!

warnings: 1 swear word

notes: silly soft flustered joshua who rarely consciously flirts but makes an exception for you :((( my beloved. happy shua day <3

“Here, this is a hot chocolate for you from the guy across the cafe.”

It's been a particularly horrible day, that day. Not because of anything specific, but just because sometimes days are like that. Days where the weather is terrible, your mood is terrible, work is terrible, and overall everything is just kind of… shit. 

Seven o'clock in the evening finds you in a cafe: the same cafe you've been in for four hours, clocking in some unwanted overtime because some idiot on your team managed to permanently delete half the spreadsheet you've been updating for weeks and now you have to scramble to fix it in two days before the annual overview meeting is conducted to all of your bosses. 

You’re exhausted, on the verge of a meltdown, and almost about to burst into tears when the gentle, male voice had spoken, and you look up just as a hand slides a steaming mug onto your table.

This man—he’s absolutely gorgeous, actually, but you don’t get to register it fully because the moment you look up, he suddenly dashes away to the other end of the cafe, bumping into empty tables before sitting down nonchalantly in one of the booths all the way on the other side, crossing his legs and waving, like nothing had happened.

“Hi,” he says, all cool and suave, even as he’s still waving. “I’m the guy from across the cafe.”

You blink, and then the pieces of his charade fall into place and you laugh, flattered. 

“Well, thank you very much,” you say, and then close your laptop, looking down at the hot chocolate on your table. The whipped cream is piled high, and the mini marshmallows are the pink kind. It’s very cute. “That’s very kind of you.” You smile, taking a sip. “I’ll also be sure to thank the handsome server who brought me my drink.”

The man’s smile widens, pleased. “I hope you don’t think the server was more handsome than me, though.”

You hum, tilting your head. “I’m not sure. Maybe if you come over here, I’ll be able to see you properly and make a real judgement.”

The man’s eyes light up, and he makes his way over to you, and—it’s like the whole world stops spinning. You’d already known he was handsome, and he’s been sitting on the other side of the cafe while talking to you, but it’s a whole other thing to be seeing him up close.

You’re now face-to-face with the prettiest person you’ve ever seen, with pretty brown eyes and a pretty lips that are pulled into a devastatingly pretty smile, and you have to fight a blush as he claims the seat opposite you at the table.

“Hi,” he says again, and laughs softly when you can’t quite meet his gaze, shy. 

“Hello,” you say, looking up briefly and feeling your face instantly heat up. What earlier confidence you’d had when calling him over has mysteriously disappeared, flustered in the face of this man’s handsomeness.

He laughs again, obviously finding you endearing as you look away, avoiding his gaze. And then he ducks his head down until he finds your eyes again before slowly straightening up, smiling when your gaze stays on him. “There we go,” he says softly. “Your eyes are so pretty. Please don’t look away.”

You blink rapidly, still very pink in the face. “Thank you.”

The man smiles. “My name’s Joshua,” he says, inclining his head in greeting. “May I have your name?”

Somehow, the oddly formal nature of Joshua’s question helps you shake some of your shyness, and you smile back at him, taking a sip from your hot chocolate. It’s sweet.

“I suppose you may,” you say, lightly teasing. “It’s Y/N.”

And then you hold out your hand for him to shake, playing up the formal greeting, and Joshua laughs, taking it in his own, his touch warm and grounding. You kind of want to hold his hand forever.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Joshua says. Disappointingly, his fingers fall away from your own almost instantly, and he gestures to the mug in front of you. “I hope you like the hot chocolate. I was actually, um, watching you from across the cafe, and you looked quite stressed, and so I wanted to give you the drink.”

“Oh.” His words have you melting a little, and he looks so adorable with his shining eyes and that shy smile on his face, as if nervous about this whole exchange. “Thank you. I was having a bit of a bad day, so this really helps.” You look down at the hot chocolate in mild wonder. “I thought this kind of thing only happened to main characters in rom coms.”

Joshua rubs the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed even as he laughs slightly, eyes crinkling. 

“I don’t really do things like this, normally,” he admits. “I’m kind of out of my depth here with this whole… flirting thing. But I thought you were cute, and you were working so hard, and I wanted to just give you something sweet to cheer you on.”

He thought you were cute. Despite his admission that he’s “out of his depth” here, you think he’s actually doing very well in this flirting. Devastatingly so.

Things like this just don’t happen to you. You’re not the type to have handsome men giving you hot chocolate at seven in the evening because they think you’re cute, but here you are, and Joshua’s smiling shyly even as his eyes glow, and he’s so pretty and this entire thing feels like something out of a dream.

“Your presence is sweeter than any drink could be,” you blurt out, and then promptly turn the shade of a beetroot, burying your face onto the top of your laptop lid. 

You can practically hear Joshua’s stunned silence, and then he laughs.

“Oh, please look up,” he says, when you still keep your face firmly buried in the laptop. “That’s the most adorable compliment I’ve ever gotten, seriously. You’re really—you’re really lovely, Y/N.”

“I’m also really embarrassed,” you say, muffled. “That was—I’m so sorry. I’m really bad at flirting. That was so weird.”

Joshua laughs again, and then there’s a light tap on the top of your head, and you lift your head slightly. Joshua takes the opportunity to reach over and lift your chin up with the tips of his fingers, smiling when you finally make eye contact with him again.

He’s blushing, you realise faintly. His fingers are warm on your face, and his cheeks are dusted pink. You did that to him.

“It wasn’t weird,” he assures. “I told you, I’m really bad at this whole thing too. But I came over here because I liked you, so it would be strange for me to dislike the idea of you liking me too.”

Your eyes widen. “You like me?”

Joshua scrunches his nose slightly, looking embarrassed again. He retracts his hand, and again, you miss the warmth of his touch. “This isn’t my first time seeing you,” he confesses. “You come here every Wednesday after work, don’t you? I’m always here around that time as well, and you’re always so bright and bubbly with your friends, and I just—well, like I said, I found you really cute.”

“Oh.” Joshua really is so, so sweet. “I’m sorry I haven’t ever talked to you before, then. Wow.” And then you smile. “But if it’s any consolation, I really do think you’re cute, too.”

Joshua’s whole face seems to glow as his eyes crinkle into crescents and he smiles widely. He’s still blushing prettily, and that makes you smile too, mesmerised by how someone who looks like him actually exists.

“Okay, lovebirds, wrap it up,” a voice suddenly says, and you jump, tearing your gaze away from Joshua, flustered. At the front of the cafe, there’s a barista wiping down the coffee machines. He stops what he's doing, leaning against the counter, watching you both amusedly. His name tag, Yoon Jeonghan, glints in the lights. “We’re closing up soon. You guys have to go.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” you call back, and quickly drink the last of the hot chocolate that Joshua gave you, before beginning to put your things back in your back. The spreadsheet isn’t fully finished, but oh well. You can get someone else to do it.

“Sorry, I probably distracted you,” Joshua says apologetically, as you put on your coat and shoulder your bag. He picks up your empty mug for you, ready to walk to the counter and give it back to the barista. “Did you manage to finish your work?”

You shake your head, and the two of you make your way out of the cafe. “No, but it’s okay,” you assure him. “I’ve been working on it for hours. I’ll get someone else to finish it off.”

Joshua nods and hands the mug back to the barista, who accepts it with a mischievous grin.

“Have a nice night, lovebugs,” the barista, Jeonghan, says, eyes twinkling. It makes Joshua roll his eyes, exasperated and benevolent at the same time, like he was used to such teasing. He bids Jeonghan goodnight and then leads you out of the cafe, opening the door for you and then following you out afterwards, until you’re both standing out on the empty street.

“A friend of mine, unfortunately,” Joshua says, as a way of explaining Jeonghan’s familiarity. “I may have, um, mentioned you to him, before. Once or twice.”

He’s being bashful again, awkward and shy in revealing his liking for you, and goodness, you’re finding him more and more endearing with each passing second you spend in his presence.

“Cute,” you say, the word slipping out before you can stop it. Joshua’s eyes widen, surprised, but like hell are you taking it back, because it’s true. “You’re really cute,” you laugh. “I… wow. Yeah. I think you’re really cute and just. Thank you, for spending time with me. This was really nice.”

Joshua’s eyes are still wide, and he swallows. 

“Okay,” he says, “I really, really don’t normally do this, but could I have your number? You’re just so nice and so pretty and I want to get to know you more, if that’s okay. You can say no, of course, and that’s totally fine, but if you’d like to, then—”

“Yes,” you cut off his rambling with a smile, and hold out a hand for his phone. “I’d like to. Of course I’ll give you my number.”

Your day did not start well at all. It’s been miserable, and exhausting, and frankly the worst day you’ve had in a while—but then a mug of hot chocolate had slid onto your table in a coffee shop, and you’d started to make conversation with the prettiest guy in the world, and now, now, now…

Now, Joshua beams at you, soft as marshmallow and sweet as chocolate, and well. You have to admit that your day has ended in the best possible way.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[pup-pee]

oh god so many of the tags got messed up y did i type this in tags i thought it was gonna b a small ramble but no some1 help theyre in my head

i want to put bart in a time loop. konbart time loop au. is this anything

[harryshouseenthusiast]

I want to make a list of my favorite writers on here! This will be the author’s whose writing speaks to me the most! To add, just because I didn’t add someone doesn’t mean I don't like them, I will try my best to update this because i haven't used Tumblr as much recently so I'm still finding all the pages. And i want to write something about each author so I'll take time <3

@jawllines - I’ve read her writing for YEARS and subbed to her Patreon, I love all her tropes so much, especially Grumpy Harry! She is definitely and Og for me, I haven't read fanfics as long as I've been a fan, and I've read like the 1D preferences, but my first full out one-shot was the one where Harry and Y/N pick berries as a summer job.

@moonchildstyles - I love all the AU she chooses to write Harry in, I found her a bit more recently 2022, which now writing that looks so long ago but feels recently 😭 I love how she has so many blurbs/checkups too! i am subbed to her patron as well! I love the gentleness of how she writes harry, especially in citrine, he is so soft and i love it

@jarofstyles - Not only do they have mouthwatering smut, but I love how they have a bunch a shorter AU blurbs, sometimes I don't want to read a full one shot, and they have so many blurbs. One writing love in particular is Braking plates, I love some good angst to fluff. I am also subbed to their Patreon

@erodasfishtacos -I absolutely love her work and it's so upsetting how she was treated on this app. I'm glad she was able to move over to patron to continue her passion, I have subbed, and her work is phenomenal. She introduced me to one of my favorite underrated tropes, Deaf!H. I love how she writes her ABO tropes, that's another one of my favorites.

@harrysbabycherry - The first fic I read from her was the one when Y/N was a vampire and the was a kinda unique topic for me because I've always read Fics of Vampire!H, one of my fav tropes, But I loved the switch up. And I've just really e njoyed her following works. I also love the few Halloween writings she did, i love spooky H.

@gurugirl - The first thing I read of hers was the Stepdad!H, and I was hooked her smut is divine, absolutely amazing. I love how she portrays dark harry and forbidden/taboo relationships. I would love to sub to her patron, but unfortunately, I can't fit it into my budget as of now, but I will be subscribing one day. I love how she specifically says no sad endings because i also get too attached and cannot handle it.

@harryforvogue - It's been a bit since I've read her work, so I'm excited to catch up. She is actually the account that got me into reading books with OC. I previously only read reader insert Fics, but her writing was so good, and I noticed that OC writings give me different emotions than Y/N Fics. if that makes sense.

@watermelonlovershigh - I absolutely love how she writes soft Harry. She writes him so gentle and caring. It’s a nice contrast for the mafia stuff I read😭. She was also the first person ive read a sickfic from and I don’t see many of those, so it was different than what I’ve normally read and I loved it! She’s an amazing writer.

As i said i will be adding to this as time goes on! If anyone has someone the want me to check out lmk!

(Sorry for typos)

[haodarling]

Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hi omg i absolutely love your work so much!! Literally had to turn on notifications just for you🩷 i wanted to request an enemies to lovers trope with ethan (but kinda slowburn) where he is really nice and shy/dorky with the rest of the group & rude to y/n specifically because he feels like thats the only way to get her attention. He walks in on her changing but leaves quickly due to embarrassment & a few days later just confesses during an argument and it ends in smut. Lots of angst & tension pls pls thank you so much🥲

Hiii! I hope you like it!

Holding on to You - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan thinks he needs to be a jackass to get your attention. After months of dealing with his annoying ways, he confesses how he feels.

Contains: fluff, angst, use of pet names, mean!ethan, dry humping, riding, p in v sex. (If I missed anything, let me know!)

A/N: Apparently if I get stoned and listen to Twenty One Pilots, I write longer fics lmao. 3.7k words...jeez.

When Chad and Ethan needed a new roommate, and you hated yours, you decided to take Chad up on his offer for you to move in. Yeah, living with two boys wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Well, Chad wasn’t as bad as you thought he would be. Ethan on the other hand, loved to do things to piss you off.

As you stood at the sink doing your own dishes, Ethan walked by and dropped a bowl in the sink.

“Seriously?” you asked, looking over at him.

“What? You’re already doing dishes.”

Chad walked in the room before you could say anything else to Ethan. He smirked at you as Chad started to speak.

“Hey dude, you want to go with me to get the pizza for tonight?” he asked. You were having your friends over, and you were happy to have an interaction with someone that wasn’t a guy.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, sitting a cup in the sink, too.

“I’m not doing all your dishes, Ethan!” you yelled, as he and Chad made their way to the door.

He turned around to look at you again, flashing a smile before walking out.

The way Ethan acted was infuriating sometimes. He was completely different in the presence of everyone else, but when it was just the two of you, he was so rude.

When your friends started to arrive after Chad and Ethan got back, you were grabbing plates out of the cabinet when Ethan walked up behind you.

“Let me take these. I wouldn’t want all of them to get shattered,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the stack. You huffed as he sat them down on the counter.

“I wouldn’t have broken them,” you mumbled, looking up at him.

“You just broke one last week!”

“Well, if you didn’t stack so many plates on the top shelf so only you’re giraffe-looking ass was able to reach them, maybe it wouldn’t have happened,” you snapped, grabbing the plates off the counter and carrying them out to the living room.

“Thank you,” Chad said as you sat the plates down.

“Yeah, thank you,” Ethan said as he followed you out, the sweetness in his voice making you want to gag.

As you all sat around eating, Tara brought up needing help for one of her classes.

“I can help you,” Ethan said, “I took that class already.”

“Let me guess, you had the highest grade in the class?” Mindy asked, already knowing the answer.

“I can’t help that I have a photographic memory,” he said, taking a bite of his food. “But seriously, if you need my help, let me know.”

You were quiet as you focused on your phone, trying to distract yourself from Ethan. You hated that he could be so nice to everyone else but was a total dick to you. It was disappointing because at one point, you thought he was sweet. The kindness and the fact that he was tall and very attractive was starting to draw you in, but then his personality just flipped one day.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Tara asked you, as you scrolled through your phone.

“I got a text from my ex earlier. Still an asshole,” you sighed, “But he’s been liking all my Instagram photos that he unliked when we broke up.”

“Don’t give him another chance, please,” Mindy begged, “He treats you like shit.”

Your cheeks started to turn pink as you sat there. You didn’t want to directly tell them that you were considering it, but the knowing look on Chad’s face confirmed that you were doing a bad job at hiding it.

“Seriously? He’s going to be in here trying to square up with me and Ethan, because he’s an insecure idiot,” Chad said, his tone full of disappointment, “You know he’s not good for you.”

Ethan was really invested in the conversation happening in front of him. He’d always kind of hoped that you’d just tell him you were interested in him. The type of guys you normally went after was the reason he was being a jerk, after all. He’s always wanted your attention.

“That’s my type though, Chad,” you sighed sarcastically as he shook his head.

“Yeah, but you could go after a sweet guy, like my boy Ethan over here,” he said, gesturing to the curly-haired boy that started to blush. “He’s a snack, right?”

“That didn’t work when you pitched it to the cute girl at the Halloween Party, and it’s not going to work now,” you giggled, happy that you were able to make a little dig at Ethan since he always says rude things to you.

“That wasn’t nice. I think you’re a snack,” Chad said to Ethan, as Tara started to laugh at their bromance.

“At least someone does,” Ethan said, glancing over to you and looking down at his lap.

“I’m not saying you’re not attractive, Ethan,” you sighed, feeling guilty for being so mean, “I guess you are a snack.”

“Oh, am I sensing a love connection here?” Chad said in a horrible fake-British accent.

“I didn’t say that.”

As everyone started to leave for the night, you went in your room to change into your pajama shorts and a big t-shirt.

Just as you took off your jeans, shirt, and bra, the door to your room opened.

“Hey, you left your…” You grabbed your shirt you were about to change into and quickly covered yourself with it as Ethan stood there. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

When he turned around and pulled the door shut behind him, your cheeks turned bright red. The guy that loves be an ass to you had just seen you in nothing but your panties. You sighed as you pulled your shirt and shorts on and walked out to get some water.

You jumped when you saw a shadowy figure in the dark kitchen as you turned the corner.

“It’s just me,” Chad said, as you flipped the light switch.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you said, as he stood there eating some of the cold, leftover pizza. “Why are you eating in the dark?”

“Why are you so jumpy? That’s how Ethan was a minute ago when he walked in here,” he said, chewing his food. “He sat your phone on the counter, by the way.”

“Maybe we’re jumpy because you’re lurking in a dark kitchen,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“You’re probably right. Well, good night.”

As he walked back to his room, you pulled a cup out of the cabinet, getting some water. You couldn’t stop thinking about how awkward it was going to be to see Ethan again, which will happen eventually because he shares your living space.

That didn’t happen for several days, though. He intentionally avoided you, only coming out of his room if you weren’t home, or you were in your own room. It was starting to bother you, because even if he made you feel like shit before he walked in on you, he at least talked to you, and it was significantly less awkward.

When you walked out to the living room, you saw Chad and Ethan sitting on the couch watching tv. You flopped down a few cushions away from them, looking at the screen.

“Star Wars, huh? I wouldn’t expect anything less from you two dorks,” you joked, as Chad scoffed.

“You know, I used to think you were cool,” he said, throwing one of the decorative pillows at you.

You threw it back at him, hitting Ethan in the process.

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing the pillow that eventually landed on Chad and threw it back at you.

“You know what we need? Snacks,” Chad said, standing up. He grabbed the remote to pause the movie. “Ethan, Cheetos?” he asked as Ethan nodded. “Do you want anything?” he asked you, walking towards the kitchen. “No, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. Maybe if your nice, Ethan will share his snacks.”

You laughed at his comment as you looked over to Ethan. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel the tension in the air. The only thing that came to your mind was that he was probably dying inside from not saying anything shitty to you for the last several days.

“What are you looking at?” he snapped, glancing over to you.

“There it is. I thought you were never going to be mean to me again.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t feel like I should have to speak to you,” he said, as Chad walked back in, completely missing Ethan’s comment. “Thanks, man,” he said, after Chad handed him the Cheetos.

He pressed play on the movie again, as you tried to get interested in it.

“That thing is kind of cute,” you said, pointing at the character.

“Jar Jar Binks is cute? That explains your taste in men,” Chad said, as Ethan started to laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, staring both of the boys down.

“He’s one of, if not THE, most hated Star Wars characters,” Ethan said, looking over to you. “Just like how every single guy you date is completely unlikable.”

“You don’t have to call me out like that,” you sighed, standing up to grab the blanket that was on back of the couch behind Ethan. “Can you sit up a little bit so I can grab this,” you said, tugging on the fluffy material.

“No, I’m comfortable like this,” he said, his tone playful because Chad was beside him.

“Please, I’m cold,” you whined, as he rolled his eyes and sat up.

You grabbed the blanket and snuggled back up in your spot. Ethan kept looking over to you, trying to be as discreet as possible about it. You caught his gaze, giving him a ‘What’ look, before looking back at the tv.

When the movie was over, Chad stood up. “I think I’m going to Tara’s. You guys want to come?”

“Yeah, like I want to be there while you try to put moves on my friend,” you said, as he shrugged.

“She’s cute. I can’t help it. Ethan, you coming?”

“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” he sighed, “I have stuff to work on anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be back later,” Chad said, pulling his hoodie on.

When Chad left, Ethan got up to walk to his room.

“Hey,” you said, as he stopped and turned a little to look at you, “If you hate me so much, why did you agree to me moving in?”

“Because you can pay the rent,” he said, “Is this conversation over?”

“No, it’s not,” you stood up, as he fully turned back around. “What the fuck happened? Because you used to be nice to me. Then you started to treat me like every other guy ever has.”

“Yeah? What was that jab a few nights ago where you made me feel like a loser in front of our friends?” he started to raise his voice at you, “Because that wasn’t very nice.”

“I wanted you to know what it feels like, Ethan! You treat me like I’m stupid! You know how many times I’ve gone to my room and cried over some of the things you’ve said to me?” you were yelling at this point, the anger in his face softening as he started to feel guilty. “You used to be so sweet and caring, I miss that Ethan.”

“I couldn’t be like that anymore,” he sighed, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

You were still mad, yelling “Why?” at him as he started to walk towards you.

“Because you aren’t interested in nice guys!” he yelled back, “You always go after people that don’t treat you right, when all I’ve wanted to do this whole time is to be what you want!”

“You really are dumb,” you started to laugh, shaking your head. “You had a fucking chance, Ethan! I was interested in you. It was weird for me, and I wasn’t sure how to act because you aren’t my normal type, but that’s what made me like you!”

“How was I supposed to know that?” he said, sighing as he sat back down on the couch. “I just wanted to be what you wanted.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something wrong with my normal ‘type’,” you laughed, sitting beside him. “In some sick, twisted way, I think it’s sweet that you wanted my attention so bad.”

“So, it worked?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you.

“I’m not going to validate you being an asshole. I want you to be yourself, that’s the Ethan I like,” you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry for making you cry before, I feel awful about that,” he said, the guilt present on his face.

“Just don’t do it again.”

“I totally ruined everything, didn’t I?” he asked, “I remember you mentioned your ex the other night. Are you going to give him another chance?”

You started to laugh as you looked at him, “Why would I do that? I mean, unless you aren’t interested in me, and this is just some sick joke.”

“No, I’m interested,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

The kiss was sweet at first, exactly what you expected from Ethan. He started to pull away, but your head moved with his, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips kept moving as you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You started to straddle him as you let him deepen the kiss, his tongue dancing against yours. When you felt him get hard through his jeans, you pulled away to look at him. His eyes were dazed as he watched you, craving more.

“You okay?” you asked, your breathing heavy.

“Yeah, can we do that again?”

You leaned back in, his hands going to your hips as you kissed him. His grip tightened a little as he started to squirm underneath of you, desperate to get a little friction. His lips moved to your jaw, before kissing down your neck. You whimpered when he found your sweet spot, his mouth attacking it so you’d keep making that sound.

Your hands were resting against the hem of his shirt, so you started to lift it to graze your fingers over his toned stomach. He followed your lead, his hands rubbing against your sides underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingertips brushed against your ribs, the tickling feeling surprising you.

“You tensed up, are you okay with this?” he mumbled against your neck.

“Mhm,” you said, removing one of your hands from his abs and putting it under his chin. He lifted his head so your mouths could connect again, as you started to grind against him.

He started to groan into the kiss, his hips moving against yours. “Do you want to do this,” you asked pulling away a little. He nodded his head as you slid off of him to unbutton his jeans.

“Wait, are we about to fuck on the couch?” he asked, as you nodded.

“Stand up,” you said, grabbing his hands. You grabbed your blanket from the other side of the couch, spreading it across the cushions. “Now we don’t have to feel guilty whenever we see Chad sitting on the couch.”

He smiled as you slid his jeans down over his hips. “I think you should let me take something off of you.”

You smiled at him as you stepped back a little, your hands at your sides as you waited for him to make a move. His hands went to your shirt, lifting it over your head. He felt like his eyes were going to pop out off his skull when he realized you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re even more perfect up close,” he said, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

“How many times have you thought about me almost naked since the other night?” you asked, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved his mouth.

“So many times,” he said as he pulled away and moved to the other one. He groaned a little at the feeling of your fingers tugging on his curls.

His hands reached down to the top of your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them, and sliding them down your hips. You shimmied out of them as you slid your feet out.

As you both stood there, he leaned in to kiss you again, the tent in his boxers pressing against you.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Good idea,” he said, running down the hall to his room. You took the opportunity to take off your panties as you waited for him to come back. His jaw dropped when he came back and saw you standing there, completely nude. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It can’t happen until these come off,” you said, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and sliding them down his thighs. After he stepped out of them, you pushed him back onto the couch.

He opened the condom as he sat there, rolling it on his hard cock. You really started to look at his size, nervous that it wouldn’t fit inside of you. His hands reached out, grabbing yours to pull you back on his lap. You kissed him as you grabbed his erection and lined it up with your soaked core.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, sinking down onto him. You sat in place as you kept kissing him, giving yourself enough time to adjust to the pressure as he stretched your walls.

When you started to roll your hips, his hands held onto them. “God, this feels amazing,” he said, loving the feeling of you around him. “You’re so tight.”

As you started to bounce on him, his thrusts started to meet yours. You kept making eye contact with him as his mouth started to fall open, faint moans slipping past his lips.

“That’s so hot,” you moaned, as he looked at you, trying to understand what you meant. “You can be as vocal as you want, baby. I love it.”

His heart melted as you called him ‘baby’, loving the sound of it. He started to get a little louder, letting you know exactly how good he was feeling.

“Rub my clit,” you whimpered, as your hands went to his shoulders to stabilize yourself so you could move faster.

His fingers started to rub circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the whines flying out of your mouth echoing off the walls. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His fingers soon sped up as your moaning got higher. “Yes yes yes,” you cried out, that euphoric feeling so close to taking over your body, “I’m gonna cum.”

Your pussy started to flutter around him as your body started to tense up. He kept thrusting up into you, so close to his own orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum,” he groaned out, his hand leaving your clit and going back to your hip as he pounded into you. “Fuuuuck.”

He let out a long, shaky breath as he released into the condom. Your body relaxed against his as his hands rubbed your back. “You okay, baby?” he asked, as you nodded against his shoulder.

You laid there for a few more minutes, just enjoying his arms around you. “You want to take a shower?” you asked your fingers rubbing across his chest.

“I’d love to.”

When you were in the shower with Ethan, he was so sweet and caring. As he ran the soapy loofah across your back, you started to tear up a little. No one had ever done anything like this for you. Any other guy you’d showered with expected round two, but Ethan just wanted to take care of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, as you stood under the water, the suds washing off your body.

“Stop. You keep saying stuff like that, you’re going to make me fall for you,” you laughed, as he laced his fingers with yours.

“You promise? Because you’re so amazing, and so perfect,” he said, and you knew he meant every word he was saying.

After the shower, you grabbed the blanket off the couch and threw it in the washer, before starting it. It would’ve made no sense to put the blanket down if you were just going to leave it there. Ethan walked up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. “You’re still naked.”

“You are, too,” you said, turning to face him. “I want to cuddle tonight. Your bed or mine?”

“Let’s grab your clothes and lay in mine. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you in my bed,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

“Okay, let’s go before Chad comes home and sees us naked,” you giggled, pulling away from him to run down the hall.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on Ethan’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. You sat up a little, your tired eyes connecting with his as he opened them.

“You look so cute first thing in the morning,” he said, sitting up too.

“I’m starving,” you said, running your hand through your hair as you attempted to tame the bed head.

“I could take you out to breakfast, if you’d like to.”

“I’d like that,” you said softly, leaning in to peck his lips.

You bumped into Chad in the hallway as you both walked out of Ethan’s room.

“Uh…okay,” he said, as you started to laugh. “Was I right about the love connection?” His fake accent was back as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, walking into your room to change.

When your door closed, Chad whisper-yelled, “Yessss dude I’m so proud of you! You’ve been crushing on her forever.”

“It’s a long story, but I’m so excited that she’ll know how it feels to be treated right.”

Chad and Ethan started to do a little happy dance as you walked out of your room, both of them stopping as you smirked.

“You ready to go?” you asked, reaching out to grab Ethan’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

[crescenthistory]

Omg Carina hi!!! Congrats on 2k!!! It’s 🧸 anon here (she/her) and you’re so cool for doing this event for us🫶🏻

Like you I’m also studying, last year of nursing if it matters lol, so I completely forgot to check if you answered my request and I just now saw that you did so I’m gonna go read it now! I’m so excited to get my Carina fix🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

I’ll add to the celebration - comment on “You occupy my every thought”? Don’t have anything specific I’m just such a sucker for sunshine/grumpy tropes hehe

Also if you’d like maybe comment on the 14k Remus fic? I forgot its name I’m so sorry but the way you wrote Remus made my heart swoon and it was the first ever fic I read of yours so it’s kind of sentimental too🙃

Side note thank you for sharing so much of your personal life with us it makes me personally feel really connected to the writer and it makes sense why your writing really is poetry🥰 again thank you!!

hi my darling! no, thank YOU for participating in my event<33 and for actually enjoying my yapping lmao, i appreciate you sm! last year of nursing is roughhhh, so feel free to just drop by whenever you're free. my blog will always be here for when you need it 🫂 now, i have already more or less commented on "you occupy my every thought" with these headcanons, but i would love to do the remus one!

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i will COMMENT on "It's Nice To Have A Friend" with remus lupin

carina's 2k celebration

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In this fic, you're Remus' childhood best friend, his favourite person on the planet, and your romance reads very much like two people who are perfectly intertwined and destined for each other

So, after the fic fades to black, I can't really see anything but an endgame fairytale ending

Remus writing home to Hope and Lyall, who have known you since you were a kid and befriended Remus despite his obvious differences:

Dear Mam and Tad,

This may not come as a surprise to you – as it seems it has not been for anyone but me – but if it does, I sincerely hope it is a pleasant one.

I am writing to let you know that Y/N and I's friendship has officially become something more and I am happy to call her my partner.

You remained attached at each other's side for the precious few months you had left at Hogwarts – this time without a spec of anxiety or guilt

I will say, it took a while for you to school all guilt out of Remus though, as his former guilt for daring fall in love with you occasionally transformed into guilt for "letting you love a halfbreed"

But you did what you did best – you kissed it away

You were far from above cradling Remus in your arms until he melted into you, whispering sweet nothings into his hairline

There was a lot of:

"I have loved you unequivocally more or less my whole life, cariad. I am not about to change that now."

"Would you love me any less if I changed? If I became a lycanthrope or a vampire or sick or poor?" "You know I wouldn't."

"Shhh, none of that. None of that, my sweet boy."

"You're just Remus to me."

Because of his particular situation, Remus had to become closer with certain members of Hogwarts staff than most other students would – particularly Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall

And I believe all of them would often share looks at how obvious the love blooming between these young students was

I have always had a particular moment in mind for when Pomfrey first noticed your connection in second year

It was the first time Remus got injured enough during a full moon to stay at the infirmary overnight, at a time where none of his dormmates knew

You, on the other hand...

Pomfrey opened the door to her office chambers right by the entrance to the infirmary at the frantic knocking. A sigh was already brewing on her lips at whatever piece of work must be waiting for her outside the wooden door this early.

She flung it open only to nearly hit your reddened, almost teary face.

"Madam Pomfrey," you squeaked in that youngin voice it seems all students spouted at that age. "Is Remus here?"

The concern was evident on your face, etched into your every furrow that were much deeper than a child should have. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that, Miss L/N," she said, not without sympathy. Patient confidentiality and all.

"Please," you whispered. "I know he's here, it was a full moon. Please can I go see him."

Unable to do anything else in the face of such youthful misery, and having heard in passing from Dumbledore before that "the Ravenclaw girl knows", she merely gestured in the direction of Remus' overnight bed.

A "thank you!" had barely made it past your lips before you walked away so quickly it could rival someone running – a loophole you had already found to the "no running in the halls" rule, surely.

Pomfrey followed to see you fling yourself to the floor beside Remus' bed, not even sparing the time to drag one of the nearby chairs closer to sit more comfortably. Your knees were on the cold floor, your hands scrambling to find his laying limp and bandaged on the white linen, but when you did, your touch turned almost painfully gentle.

"Rem? Remmy, cariad, it's me. Hi, hi, it's me." Your voice was soft, a gentle waking of the boy who should technically still be sleeping. It was clear you couldn't help yourself.

Remus' heavy eyelids fluttered open and the look in them once they found you, soft and at home, a stark contrast to how she found him the night before, struck Pomfrey right in the chest.

Oh, she had thought. This is going to be one of the lovestories I remember.

Thus, when she saw you two walking hand in hand as you passed the infirmary one of the last month of your 7th year, smiling widely and waving at her, she felt nothing short of contentment and warmth

Finally

Similarly with McGonagall and Dumbledore:

At the end of breakfast, there was nothing left to do but discreetly watch the students as they began preparing for the rest of their days, gaining an overview of what the dynamics were like at the moment and if they were all alright.

McGonagall's eyes were gliding over the Gryffindor table, not at all deterred by the splotch of blue that represented you in the midst of Potter and Co. She had grown more than used to you as an honorary member.

What did catch her attention, though, was when you got up and out of your seat, hoisting your bag over your shoulder to head off to a class you didn't share with the rest of them – right before you left, Remus caught your hand and pulled you down to him for a sweet kiss.

Not the forehead kisses she had seen before, not to the hand. No, he was smiling against your lips.

She arched an amused brow at the scene, glancing sideways to look at Dumbledore who was smiling into his plate.

"Yes," he said simply. "I saw."

She had to hide her smile behind her glass as she brought it up to drink. A silent toast.

All three of them would be invited to the wedding – which I don't think would be too far off after graduation

I imagine you got married the same year as Marlene and Dorcas; a big year of love for your friendgroup

Make no mistake, Sirius would be officiating it

This moment is definitely referenced in Remus' vows to you during the wedding:

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

"I suggested it already the first day we became official, and even that was too late – I have always been yours and it is my utmost honour to have you always be mine."

Not a single dry eye in the room

James would specifically be crying into Hope's arms

Which Sirius would laugh at until he was a few more drinks in, at which point he would do the same with Effie

(Lily took pictures of both instances with her muggle camera, and they were some of the first in the wedding album)

Should there be an Order of the Phoenix (with a happy ending for all), you and Remus would act as the parental couple beside James, Sirius and Lily

And if you eventually make Remus secure enough in himself and his lycanthropy that he would dare have some puppies? Well, the more the merrier with this lot

The cheesiest, loveliest happily ever after you could desire 🤍

[onyourhyuck]

Ultimate Spider-Man: Spider-Mark. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Mark are you— Spider-Man?”

— Summary: Wherein one night you were saved by Spider-Man from a bunch of men harassing you and you find out it’s your enemy all along.

— Genre: Coming Of Age. Romance. Spiderman!mark. Mentions of hero duties. Smut smut smut minors Dni. enemies/rivals to lovers trope. Big dick mark agenda. Mention of getting harassed and attacked on the street. Mark jumps out a building with y/n. Medic students. Y/n is a confident queen. Fingering female receiving. Head receiving female. Spit mention. Breast play. Unprotected sex (wrap your willies pls ty.)

— Notes: Spider Mark fic <3

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Sometimes you hate the fact that you’re craving to be better than everyone around you and you wonder how come your first thought was to crush someone’s inability to be good at something? You blame your academic validation and growing up unloved but that doesn’t give you an excuse to want to be the best student on top of everyone’s graves. However someone was making it difficult.

Mark Lee was the top grader in your classes. Currently you’re both majoring in biology courses which are both to do with medical practices the more you progress within the year — you see it very much upsets you to have Mark get one question right than you or to see him get praised by the professors very much gets under your thin skin you can’t handle it. It doesn’t help that the boy seems genuinely humble and hard working too.

Maybe you’re being petty and so what if you are? No one’s got anything in university other than becoming successful and that’s exactly what your freaking goal is. If you cannot overcome this and defeat Mark in becoming the top student then you haven’t succeeded you’ve failed no matter if you get that damn medical degree.

You are envious of people who are laid back and could relax because they find things easy on the exams or the fact that they aren’t overburden by work. You really don’t understand how you are the one working hard ten times more and somehow they end up scoring good without trying. Maybe you’re different and it’s more of an you problem. But let yourself complain.

Walking down the stairs where many university students were occupied by the buddy next to them unlike you, you’re very much full on ‘social distancing don’t speak to me’ type of person, because you dislike social interactions. You’re here to study not to become buddy friendly with other students here and get distracted from your goal. In your hands you carried your workload books for studying that you wrote your class notes in. You don’t dare waste any detail out you honestly dote down everything the professors say in hope it will give you extra markings when the exams come.

Your eyes caught glimpse on a younger boy your age with coloured-hair that irks your eyes wherever you are it was impossible to miss them, skin full of melanin that the sun reflects onto it, beauty marks on specific places that could make someone weak to the knees. Your brain took in so much information at once that you didn’t even need it to confirm who it was, you simply just knew who it were coming up the stairway catching your attention’s breathe.

The man stops on the way up when the eyes walked to your direction stopping midway. You were the complete opposite direction but still all the attention went to you as if you were attracting it away from him without doing anything too much. The friend next to him stops, they were speaking but seeing how their friend went quiet to look over at you, they stop on the tracks as well and go quiet.

Mark feels like he was about to be eaten in a lion den with the way you’re watching him with your epiphany disgust. “Oh hey y/n. You off to study the new sheet professor Ahn gave us?” You hate how his voice was friendly and polite to you even though you’re both aware of your deep surrounding rivalry and dislike each others feelings.

“Yeah unlike you clearly.” You shot downwards raising suspicion that Mark was probably slacking off entirely. “You don’t look like you’re going to be studying it for tomorrow’s test.” You scorn. Mark’s eyes travel around as he tries to figure out how to use the information to you. Mark’s hands slipped in the front pockets and that smirk widens.

“I’ve already done the work, actually.” He said matter-of-factly as he saw the burning fire in your eyes. He was always ten steps ahead of you, always, it annoys you. No, actually it fucking angers you. Mark had the audacity to put it in your face because he was glad to see you near-wanting to murder him but he knew you wouldn’t. You’re just trying not to show how much it bothers you.

Your lips fell into a thin line that could seriously harm someone if they got too close, like it was a sword laying flat offensively ready to jab the heart of Mark Lee and fully discard it. Your voice scowls out to the storing area. “Shove off Mark.” You say trying to get past him and his friend, Donghyuck but the boys were blocking your pathway until your shoulders jumped each other roughly.

You leave them on the stairway and Mark turns around following you with a serious gaze. His shoulders clicked the moment you reached your destination with it and your shoulders were bumping roughly.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Y/n and her bitchy attitude always on your case Mark Lee.” It was unbelievable how much you’re ready and willing to ruin his friends day. Mark on the other hand shrugs sighing. “Truth hurts sometimes.” He quotes. Donghyuck laughs following Mark from behind as they continue going uphill the stairs. “Your entire fucking existences hurts Y/n. It’s kind of funny to watch.”

The boys were trailing off to the distance and you were on your own once again. The location to your next finding was the café down the road. It was out of campus bounds but it was really the only place that you could relax and stay as much as you want because the owner of the café lets you stay there for extra timings whenever you need to do your serious revision. Sometimes being inside the school building was more of a destructive distraction than a place where you could focus and learn. It’s ironic really knowing some students aren’t as serious as you, but no harm done you found your own element where you can relax and become more active in studying.

The new work sheet that Mark has spoken about with you made you rethink how quick he must’ve figured this one out. For you it took a few minutes expending to an hour. It was a difficult question that has different interpretations than what you are looking for meaning it was a no right or wrong answer — but it really made it difficult too.

Somehow you struggle forming your own opinion of it because it doesn’t matter what you think you’re more of a ‘There is one answer wrong and one is correct, pick the right one’ type of person. You’re not here to analyse you’re here to get the right one so you are ensured to be correct.

You suck on your bottom teeth, watching the paper. “This freaking riddle… I can’t stand this type of questions. They’re always beating around the bush.” You complain. You can’t bring yourself to made a hypothesis like this about, so you close the book when you huff out.

The owner of the café seeing you blow rough air underneath your face made them look over seeing you struggle to come with an answer to the work question.

“You okay there miss?” The man said with a look grasping at you where you sat on the table locating near the window. You look up at where the voice was pointing from.

The man with blonde hair and glasses on, holding with both palms a table cloth and water spray bottle. Seemingly they were cleaning up from previous customers who dine at the café before they left.

Your eyes linger on the man who was surprisingly quite handsome. He looked way older than you but he was hella charismatic enough to leave you thinking he were a musician or a model with the face he’s got. “Ah yes. Just revisiting previous work because of upcoming exams.” You explain looking back at the paper and then at the man.

Taeyong’s mouth forms a large ‘Oh?’ as he comes forward trading on the table he shows a gentle smile seeing how you must be an university student. You even had a bunch of notes on the side and your bag was on the other chair sitting on it there. It really reminds him of past him when he was a student stressed with Uni work to the point he considered dropping out — nearly.

“What are you studying if i can ask you?” Taeyong would ask pointing the daggers at the sheets. You would spare the man a short glance. “Biology and Medicine. It’s a combined effort course.” You’d explain as your mind moves to the question.

He was impressed seeing how well you were handling this subject he knows many medical students who tell people it’s so difficult it left them mentally drained out — half looking corpses even. But you? You had a bright face and a good smile. You seem like you know what you’re doing but at the same time you don’t get the pressure get to you.

“You must be smart. I heard that courses to do with medicine related require a high dropping rate.”

You smirk eyeing Taeyong up and down. “Yeah well… I try my hardest to stay on the top of the list.” The owner sensed a little arrogance but it wasn’t necessary a bad thing when it came now. You’re proud and that’s it. “What did you study then?” You ask suddenly.

Taeyong’s eyes travel around the café as he walks away to clean more tables and as he did this you watch him wipe down more of the white round tables with the cloth while he sprays the cleaning spray bottle on it.

“Me? I went to university to study a little bit of languages.” Your eyes widen as you spoke over. “Whoa languages? You must be more of a genius than i am then.”

Taeyong scoffs. “Trust me. I can barely speak the language we’re speaking in right now. I wish though. Now I’m just a simple café owner.”

It was nice knowing that Taeyong lives the life he feels comfortable and the happiest in even though it wasn’t exactly an easy path when he was younger, in university trying to learn languages and hopefully become a translator with a good paying job. But now even if he wasn’t making that much money he was happy that he got to open up this café in this first place; it was like a new beginning, a new opportunity has risen into his life trying to show him a way to live. And the man took it. It made you think about yourself and how your life is looking currently.

Even the smallest person you think of can change the course of the future.

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The road is midnight under the cloud, yet beyond is the dawn. You’re walking through the tunnel trying to make sense of the starry painting above as the sun has set a long ago. its rising is alternating between the times, it was too late and you left the café now. Taeyong has kept you company by speaking with you giving the courage who wait in faith for your upcoming exams. And so, even though you left happier and refreshed it dimmers down the minute you were alone. Walking with your hands cold and shuddering inside the pockets of your hoodie. You didn’t bring a jacket with you, it was quite warm in the day and suddenly the night made it freezing as if it were a course of the winter.

Sometimes you rather think the forecasts have it out for the weather. It’s too bipolar to even consider.

The bag slipped on your singular right shoulder resting there with its long beige straps. It was a tote bag enough to hold your university stuff as well as a laptop if you wanted to bring it along. It can hold textbooks and even some clothing if you wished to bring them in or with you anywhere. It was conscientious convenient that these bags exist without them you’d be stuck with a stuffed school bag having to drag it on your poor back. You’d imagine the back pain to be a hassle.

Nonetheless you were spacing through the tunnel and then making your way out. You’d take the route from the café to the park late at night. There was a long tunnel you have to pass through from the streets and under it you go through revealing the large park pathway. The dark green grass sticking out and the trees around you occasionally watch out of boredom.

Your hands were under your waistband area holding in one palm your phone. It has probably thirty percentage left on it. You reckon you’d stay longer in the café if only your portable charger wasn’t out of battery. It leaves you with only one choice to leave and head back to your apartment.

The park was closed away from the people, normal residents were asleep at this time and only the people working night shifts were roaming but not inside the park. You thought you were the only one, until in the far distance you saw a group huddling the path from the far. Right now it was far too away to tell what the men were doing so you didn’t think anything of it.

Your apartment was close by the university and slightly far away from the café and the park you’re strolling down through. If you had to make a guess it would only take twenty minutes by foot to make it back to your home.

‘Just what on earth was happening over there?’ You can’t help but come closer taking a look at the crowd. It was a bunch of men beating down another man.

They sent down a panic alert to your spine and you rush forward when the men turn to notice your presence approaching. Big wrong move because you’re now having fullest attention brought to you, a young woman alone in a dark part trying to get by, looking like you were trying to disturb them from teaching a young guy a lesson.

The man with a ragged tooth was the most interested in you. He showed the more intrusive thoughts of you. He found you quite charming with the way you rushed into a dangerous situation without a single thought.

“Yah! Leave that man alone. He is bleeding. You’ll kill him at that rate.” You scream but kept a promising distance still but enough for you to have a view of what they did to the poor boy.

He was coughing out blood on the floor trying to get up but whenever he brought the strength to do something the men surrounding him looking like gangsters were ready to kick his back down forcing him to be flat on the ground, defenceless and unable to move. You couldn’t stand watching something this cruel and gruesome, heck the sight of blood was too much for you to take, you hate seeing blood. It freaks you out and to see another man bleeding near-to-death really ruins you up with anxiety.

The man cackled at your reactions, you can’t help but think they might be on the psychopath side more than the humane. It wasn’t normal to be this cruel. “You can join us how about that?” The man was taking steps to you and the minute you tried to run back showing your phone. “I will call the police if you take another step forward!” You threaten them.

It didn’t work.

You weren’t sure why you thought it would work. The men in front of you look like they don’t care for consequences, so why would they care for police? Your threats were pushed aside just like you were grabbed with your wrist throwing you on the ground discarding your phone you drop it. The man crawling above you made sure your wrists were straddling both ways in his hands.

Then you look over to the man. Your brain soon realised you’re being crowded by not one man but now you were cradled by multiple men — all together they were ten men guarding you with a demonic look on their faces you can’t explain. It felt like a dark power within them that scared you.

You were gripped so hard you can’t avoid their slimy hands that touched your hair, finding it super soft and beautiful, the others tried the best to sneak their way to your clothing but you were squirming and screaming. Heck you even tried to bite them off literally!

The man laying on the floor saw you becoming their target and he ran away for it. You widen your eyes watching him run away. ‘That bastard! He ran away!’ You can’t believe it, you literally tried to save him!

The minute you thought you were doomed, the men were practically near to ready to strip you off the clothes. Your blouse was coming undone with the ribbon knot coming off revealing your collarbones and then you clench your eyes screaming. “SOMEONE HELP ME, ANYONE.”

You prayed, you really did. You’re not even a religious person anyways but you prayed for you to be safe and saved by someone. The minute you thought you died you were welcomed to see a man flying across the park, thrown with a kick and flying so many yards it was inhuman for a normal person to kick someone in the air so far with such speed and precision. Your eyes widen trembling at who this new person coming in, it felt like a new predator ready to eat you and the gangsters men who near-harassed yourself. You couldn’t tell if he was helping you or if he was ready to kill you too. The men were distracted by the new force encouraging them to fight.

Yourself you felt a shiver down your spine. No one saw the person who was assassinating them in the darkness it’s as if they were the darkness itself. You felt too exposed meanwhile you trying to track the invisible force targeting the enemies were one by one dropping like freaking flies over here.

It scared you, scared you because you might be the next fly who drops dead.

“Where is that bastard coming from?!” One man yelled out loud.

“Woohoo, here piggy!” A voice suddenly called out causing them to turn around to see a hanging man on a tree floating by a spiderweb. Your eyes itch on what you saw.

The man thrown a punch the minute he saw the red man only to get a headbutt falling unconscious with a possible broken nose.

He unlatch from the tree. The spiderweb retracting back into the hands and he begins to walk on the park pathway you were laying there onto. The last man standing was behind you grabbing you up getting out a knife to your neck which made you confused, everything was so quick happening in just a span of zero point five you can’t figure out how you’re now held against a knife to your throat. You felt your oxygen pressure levels rising and you could no longer breathe.

The figure that was outlined disappeared and you can’t help but close your eyes murmuring prayers. “Please God help me, I’m sorry for not doing enough good for this world! I swear I’ll be a changed woman if i live…”

You can’t believe yourself you’re literally praying out loud. The man clench the blade to your throat and suddenly a warm liquid drops down on it. Your eyes widen as you felt the scar incoming. Your own blood slowly dripping down the blade and the man’s wrist too on the park ground.

“Shut up, or I will slice your throat.”

You take a mental note shutting up instantly, but then a thrust of wind blows you off the ground and your eyes shut down seeing blackness till you’re feeling two muscular arms pull you up and your clothing blew on the cold air sliding on your body. You felt the chest brush on your skin and you look up opening one eye, slowly opening your second eye, shocked to see spiderman has come back to save you. You, the person who was supposed to be in another man’s arms with a knife to your throat.

The spiderman came round with a web attaching to a tree flinging back with his legs doing a round house kick knocking the man over unconscious and the knife into the air landing somewhere on the grassy land. You couldn’t help but stay mesmerised he was holding you while fighting the bad guy?

What can he not do?

Your body was in the air as Spider-Man kept his hand on your body never letting you go. He swung with one muscular hand with a spider web between the buildings. He spoke to you breaking the silence, but didn’t look you into the eye, you were the one staring at him all this freaking time panicking deep inside. “Where do you live I’ll drop you off there.” He asked you firmly but you were here pausing for a long silence.

He wasn’t sure why you were so quiet until you break out of your long thoughts making you so absent minded it was out of your character.

“I- live in…” you nearly forgot where you lived you couldn’t believe it. The Spider-Man wanted to laugh seeing you so confused and lost while trying to figure out your tongue when to speak.

“There in that apartment block.” You simply move your hands pointing to the building.

Without a reply you were brought inside the building dropping you off by your door where spiderman stood still seeing your feet latch on the ground once again. Your clothing were on your body but your blouse was undone and Spider-Man occasionally avoided looking at you and instead he found the ground rather more interesting — you wanted to ask him to look at you so you could thank him but you soon realise what the problem was.

You loudly stutter out. “O-oh shit…” you grumble turning around fixing the buttons on your blouse. He turns to you again. “You’re not hurt right?”

The question was something you weren’t even sure if you were physically hurt or mentally hurt? How do you answer a question you don’t know how to answer.

You were going to say no but your hands suddenly rub down your neck and you brought it back to your view seeing blood on your palm from where you touched your neck on. Your eyes widen and you look back at the man in front of you, covered in a disguise. You weren’t sure who you were even speaking to — in reality it’s awful discomfiting how much you feel safer with a man in a fucking suit than people who don’t wear a disguise.

“I’ll be oka—“

He grabbed your wrist so softly you felt like he was cautiously careful with you. You had no choice but to come forward and love your neck to the side so he can get a full access view of the little cut on your neck from how hard that man was bruising the knife blade to your skin. You felt his hand caress the wound with his free hand and he looks at your apartment door pulling away from your neck.

He wanted to think ‘you’re not okay, you’re far from it.’ He can’t help but think why on earth were you out there so late and don’t you realise how dangerous the world is? He prays to God you realise and take notes from this situation to not make it repeat itself like old history. You saw the man look at your apartment door and letting your wrist go, you retract it back down holding it yourself.

“Can you invite me inside your apartment so i can tend to your neck wound? I cant leave it untreated.” He was so strict and stern, you wonder if he does this to everyone he saves.

‘He probably has to do this. It’s his job, Y/n.’

You couldn’t refuse the offer because two things: one he was doing his job and he probably had no choice but to treat you, and two, you want to repay him for saving your ass somehow. You were reckless today and thanks to your kind actions all you got was nearly being killed.

So much for being selfless, that man who was beaten up left you to die. He saved himself and he didn’t save you at all.

“Sure come in.” You open the apartment door unlocking it with your keys. Both entering a dark apartment you dimly lit the lamp over so you can see roaming the apartment that wasn’t too small nor too big it was probably a good spacious space for a single student studying down the road. This apartment was the only thing you could afford thankfully your parents gave you enough money to pay for this renting it.

Luckily you sometimes work down the library doing volunteering and you happen to get paid that way too. It pays a good amount of money that you allows you to pay the upcoming month’s rent.

Not like it matters you’re almost done with university, almost there you just have to ‘defeat’ Mark Lee with your grade paper by scoring higher and bam; you’ll be satisfied with your hard longing work and you will get your results and degree.

The man coming inside your apartment saw the opportunity to look around your apartment by letting his eyes wander. It was a nice cozy apartment. The couch was leather black and you had a decently size tv on the wall attached. The windows were large letting enough sunlight if it was day but since it’s night currently the only light source was the lamp.

He saw you coming back after hearing you rummage through your kitchen getting the first aid kit out and seeing you walk over he was sitting down on the couch letting you sit next to him. You were both silent until you let your mouth open.

You had so much questions, so many answers you were looking for, but he couldn’t answer them. He wanted to let you to not take it to heart.

He wanted to but he couldn’t answer them.

“Thank you for saving me…” you say softly as you saw the man in the suit sitting in front of you looking like he knew what he was doing exactly, you couldn’t believe it he knew how to professionally apply disinfectant on a cotton pad, he knew how to handle stitches too and he knew what to use on an open bleeding wound.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but you found yourself wondering how come he moved like a medical student?

His deep voice hit you like a train. “It’s my job. You don’t have to thank me for anything.” He goes quiet for a minute when applying the burning cotton pad on your wound rubbing it in stripping motion. You flinch and he saw you bite on your bottom lip at the burning dent on your neck.

It was a stinging sensation you couldn’t fight.

He spoke again trailing at one thought he was wondering all this night ever since saving you. “Why were you out this late anyways? Don’t you know bad guys are out on about the streets at night.” He was almost scolding you but you couldn’t help it when finding it was kind of comforting to have someone care for you. Even though you’ve never met them before.

“I am a busy uni student. I have my priorities to become the best of my class.” You state firmly, somehow stunning the man bearing you to say that you’d rather do everything in your power to succeed.

Somehow he felt your perfectionism and determination inspiring.

“I can’t let Mark Lee get a higher score than me.” You mutter suddenly out thinking back to the boy in your class who just boils your blood by being perfect.

You look away but you felt your throat clench when seeing his face come closer to clean it with another clean cotton pad letting the wound sink and dry no longer becoming a dry blood mess. He was making sure your neck was clean and not just tending to your wound, meanwhile cleaning he checked the rest of your body by quickly scooping with his eyes checking for any more casualties. “I don’t know why i got involved. I did an altruistic thing to someone and look where it got me.”

You scowl out scoffing with irony in your throat. This is why you prefer not being kind to people because this ends up later on. You get hurt in return.

“So much for being altruistic my ass.” You grumble.

You heard the man chuckle deeply shaking his head. He found it quite hard to believe you got involved to protect someone but at the same time there was a humane side to you where you do care. He puts the first aid equipment back into the box and closed it for you indicating he was done.

“Well you’d rather study your brain off so late to the point you could nearly get murdered? You must be the brightest student your school has.” It was a compliment melting your heart and you felt exposed and embarrassed. You can’t believe you rented to him about Mark Lee, your obsession with your grades and now your current near to death experience.

He saw your flustered expression as you gently laugh it off under your breathe, it was the softest laugh, the laugh you can’t hear but barely your ears could hear a glimpse of it in the longing air distance between your bodies.

“I’m sure you can beat that guy Mark Lee at your exams. I believe in you.”

The first time someone said they believe in you. Your heart couldn’t take such words in at first until your brain duly processed them and proclaim them to be true. It felt like a lie but in reality it was truth spoken from the heart deep inside the saviour who risked their life and time to keep you safe and protected. You smile, unconcealed by your frown or the usual expression you wear. You smiled from your heart and not from your logical perspective self.

You grumble. “Hate to break it to you but I don’t think i can because tomorrow we have this test and i don’t have a written answer for the question we are answering tomorrow.”

You pull the sheet out from your bag that you nearly forgot back into the park thankfully, your saviour has grasped it for you. The sheet of paper was placed in front of the man and you.

You sigh out wanting to pull your freaking hair out of your head because you couldn’t find or come up with an answer to this question.

He read it aloud. “What other medications could you provide to a patient who is diagnosed with a non-ST elevation myocardial infarction?” You look at him from the side humming.

“Meaning you have to make your own hypnosis as to why you’re picking this medication and what will you do once you give him it and what furthermore will you proceed.” You sigh out. “I don’t do well with questions like this and honestly i can only think of one medicine. But you can’t use this one. It has to be other medications and methods used.”

You weren’t expecting anything from the man sitting down but the minute you saw him grabbing a pencil from the table that was lying about randomly he starts writing a diagram for you to see on the sheet and your eyes widen at what you’re seeing written down within the same time space. Your thoughts about the man being a professional medic was now coming back and you were so convinced with the way he was giving you an explanation that he was something close to your subject.

Heck maybe he was a doctor who the fuck knows?

“Here,”

He puts the pencil down now facing you again. “You can use enoxaparin for the patient’s medication with a side of dual anti platelet treatment and resistance that way they will be able to get a higher chance of recovery.”

It’s the way he explained this to you and you finally had a light bulb moment it literally felt like it. He opened your eyes to an answer and you face the man in a spiderman suit. If you’re being honest you weren’t expecting spiderman to be helping you with your exam answer for tomorrow so you could pass heck you weren’t even sure if this was real. It felt like a fever dream being saved by a superhero while you were still stressing with work and now he was helping you with your school work.

You stutter out reading the whole planned out section that you could do in your exam. “Wait… how— how did you know that you can use enoxaparin for a patient with a non-ST elevation myocardial infarction.”

But the minute you turned to look around to your side to see the man in the suit disguised becoming a whole enigma to your existence he was gone no longer next to you as if he vanished from thin air and you held your breathe.

Looking around the apartment helplessly.

Your eyes land back to the sheet paper holding eye contact with the handwriting and rub your fingers on them.

‘Just who are you, Spiderman?’

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The freshman passing to get to their classes made you wonder if you would ever miss these classes and traffics on your way to get to them, you’d have to say no. You can’t wait to graduate and leave this hell joke because freshman are truly the most annoying grade you’ve ever encountered.

On your way to the great hall where everyone in your class was seated ready to do the test ahead. You spent your whole night writing an hypnosis and memorising it so you could re write it on the real exam paper.

As you walk to your seat you bump into a boy you’ve not been looking forward to meeting, again. “Mark move out my way you’re blocking my seat.” You are complaining this early in the morning? How do you have the energy to do this.

Mark can’t help but not argue back it’s been so early in the morning he doesn’t even want to hear you and your disgraceful attitude to constantly get on his case. You push through his seat and sit down the same lane but only three seats away from him. Mark was asleep resting on the table but you were revising and re reading your notes meanwhile he was sleeping. You can’t help but think he’s being incredibly rude by not taking this as seriously as you and everyone else in this hall.

From every corner there was a medical student looking back on to their notes, so why wasn’t he? Even if you’re so tired you can’t move, you should at least try to look like you’re doing something.

You murmur under your breathe. “So much for showing off. If you wish to sleep you shouldn’t of come at all.”

‘He’s so unbearable.’ You complain.

The boy lifts his head up. You notice the fleek of his blue-ish silver alike hair was messy almost as if he didn’t even try to brush it yet he made it look super good despite being the normal bed hair.

He shots at you trotting back with the same energy and attitude as you. If you’re going to be insufferable he might as well match your horrible words too. “Mind your own business and focus on your own work.”

He grits his teeth at you. “I ain’t the one who constantly gets a point lesser than the work I’ve submitted.” He stalls. “Starting to think you’re a bitch by default.”

You stop watching him completely bite back and chew you open and then, just to chew you up again and spit you out into the bin like you’re nothing but rotten gooey mess that cannot be digested.

You didn’t reply but you can’t help but find Mark to be incredibly off the edge today and the minute the professor came in handing out the test papers the game was on. Your brains were on the A game trying to answer with much detail to the question everyone should’ve been revising yesterday. You remember that last night Spiderman has helped you and you were taking his advice with a mix of your own method process to make it your own work too. You felt confident now and unlike before, you’d actually think you might finally have a good hypothesis —better than Mark Lee’s.

The exam surprisingly went well however and you and Mark were both left in the hall finishing up the last touches. You finished before Mark only by twenty minutes until he came running his eyes behind you seeing you walk away with a proud smug.

Your paths disconnected. You walked away but unlike then you realised you forgot your own phone and airpods on the desk.

“Shit!”

You ran back going up the stairs in hurry and then forcing your way back into the hall you open the door wifely. The professor was out of bounds for a little bit only leaving Mark walking out of the lane but you bump into him suddenly knocking his stuff out of the arms and he looks at you.

He was staring you down in disbelief finding this incredibly annoying. He founds you super annoying today and he doesn’t know why or what. He can’t put his fingers on why you keep getting in his way.

You look away glaring. “Ugh watch where you’re going Lee.” You grumble going down on your knees lifting his stuff up. Hey at least you’re helping him.

Mark sighs grabbing his back and pen off the floor meanwhile you grab his piece of exam sheet he’s written loads on. But your eyes caught onto something similar and your brain suddenly flickers like you’ve connected a dot to another dot.

enoxaparin and Dual anti pallet?

You couldn’t believe it but the same handwriting and the same words you’ve heard from last night it really struck you until a harsh arm reaches out grabbing it out of your fingers glaring at you.

Mark looks at your dazed expression grumbling. “Hope you’re not cheating by being nosey Hm?” He side tracks pushing past you putting his exam paper on the pile with the rest of them and then going back up the stairs leaving through the door .

You held your gaze at him grabbing your phone and airpods running after the boy suddenly, suddenly you’re looking for an answer for your conspiracy theory.

‘There’s no way he’s spiderman, there’s no way!’

You caught him outside walking out the campus and down the road you’ve seen Mark stop turning around to see you shouting his name on top of your lungs. You catch your breathe, he saw the bright red colour on your cheeks from simply running after him all the way from the campus Uni to the freaking city roads. Mark raised an eyebrow judging why you’re following him when in reality — you wanted answers you seek so badly.

You want to wish you’re wrong. Your enemy cannot be your saviour that you are thankful for.

It makes this whole situation stupid on yourself. If you’re the one being fooled, god you don’t know what you’d do.

“Mark are you— Spider-Man?”

You ask him panting out heavily catching your legs before straightening upwards your body. The way your gaze fell apart the minute Mark raised his eyes up in surprise at your assumption.

Mark didn’t know why he couldn’t say no to you.

He wasn’t even sure why you’re catching onto him and if you are he wants to know how.

Somehow, you knew from his gaze. His gaze alone gave you an answer.

Mark grabs your wrist suddenly pulling you away. “What makes you say that, Y/n?” He was seriously asking you now and you were terrified wondering what he’s about to do.

He grabbed your wrist leading you up to a rooftop on a building that wasn’t even locked. The lock in the door was broken letting anyone walk up there for a long view of Seoul city and you’ve never felt more terrified of heights until now.

The boy from your class, your enemy and rival, the one you despise pushed you to the railings of the building staring into your eyes. His eyes were filled with tension and fear wondering what you’ll do if you find out his truth. His secret he’s kept from even his family.

Heck you weren’t sure what you’d do yourself if it was true.

“Wait why are we here?” You blabber out suddenly. Why the rooftop?

Mark ignored your requested question and simple puts the bag down and his shoes off. Your eyes widen as you saw Mark now trailing over the freaking railing of the rooftop standing on the edge and your mouth drops down thousand pieces before you knew it you shouted for him to stop.

“Wait- Mark holy fuck what are you doing!!” You slowly approach him and Mark turns to you making you stop with a single look at you.

He paused looking down at the heights above. It was fifteen stories high, maybe even more fox knows what. You couldn’t believe what Mark was doing and you felt like you were pressured into doing something to save your freaking enemy.

He spoke so seriously and sternly. “You asked me if I’m spiderman,” he looks at you again. “What do you think is the correct answer, Y/n?”

You weren’t sure.

If anything you were going based on your instinct and the handwriting you saw last night. It looked identical to the one Mark wrote on the exam paper today. It just made you think maybe it was him.

But now that Mark was standing on the railings looking like he was about to jump any minute you weren’t fucking sure. You’re contemplating. Second guessing your answer.

Conflicting information accounts your reality.

“Answer.” He demands shouting at you.

Seeing you flinch like you’re freezing and terrified to death he could see you shout back just as much at him.

“Yes! Okay! I think you’re fucking spider-man who saved me last night.”

And that is when your heart sank like it was drowning in between the seven seas completely squished between the contracting waves and the black hole draining you to a drift mark between your only breath of hope. As your heart broke down you could feel yourself dropping down after Mark. You crawled down the railings and jumped down right after the boy trying to grab his hand. He was dropping fast from each floor story —

15…

14…

13…

By the time you knew it you’re linking past two digits into singular and Mark opens his eyes widening seeing you drop down to grab him. ‘You’re so stupid…’ he couldn’t help but find your way down with him recklessly looking on you. For someone who’s so smart you have a way of becoming irrational.

You thought you were going to die until Mark grabbed you suddenly by your hands interlocking them. As he held your hand so tightly you felt your entire world swoosh open like an upside tennis ball on an open court. A huge spiderweb as connected you back to the rooftop that you jumped out off in the first lane.

Mark carried you over the railings as you were shaking gasping out for breath because he took it away.

You nearly doubted him being spiderman, because the only reason you jumped down was to save him knowing he was spiderman.

You fell to your knees holding your chest. Mark follows your outline silhouette of your hourglass and you glare looking at him.

“I’m not sure if you’re fucking dumb or if you enjoy being in dangerous situations.”

He seethes between his teeth harshly.

“Me dumb?” You repeated. You wanted to laugh for a minute at his audacity. You’re not the one who jumped down a flight of fifteen stories because you wanted to prove something to someone.

He was suddenly hit by hit hand against his chest. “You fucking— psycho!”

“Okay I deserve that.” He states understanding why you’re exactly cursing him.

Mark saw you curse him in long strings of words and shouts he couldn’t tell which one it was — words or freaking lyrics to a Kanye west song?

“What the fuck was your motive for this.”

“I didn’t know if i could trust you with my identity.” He sores out and you face him with your gaping mouth.

“So you think jumping down fifteen stories and me jumping after you will make you trust me? What’s fucking wrong with you— Y’know what you need to be put into a psych ward.” You blast. “There’s a thing called communication, Mark Lee!”

“Right…”

Mark looks at you finally calming down as you reclaimed your oxygen inside your deprived body it felt like the whole adrenaline was hunting you down. The boy came to an conclusion that you were one of a kind — no one would jump for their enemy or even an academic rival you wish to destroy. But you did it.

He wants to know how you caught him too, but he could take a guess.

“Question Y/n—“

“Hm?” You hum out softly turning around and the boy stops speaking as your calm and relaxed eyes rest on him.

You weren’t looking at him like you want to hate him in fact you were just looking at him without a singular emotion except perhaps, a hint of gladness maybe?

You could feel Mark’s breath returning. “How’d you find out I’m… spiderman.”

You’d smirk. “Your handwriting.”

He sighs out. “Dammit. I knew that would be a problem.” You laugh a little knowing he must feel slightly caught but lucky for him you aren’t going to expose him.

He did save you, you owe him that much.

“Hey Mark?”

Mark looks up at you finally catching a whiff of your hair scent when the air blows behind your head and your back. He couldn’t smell anything else but a hint of your watermelon and strawberry shampoo. It made him somehow feel better about it, knowing it was such a pleasant smell.

You smile at him. “Wanna come to my apartment and start anew?” You couldn’t help but think maybe you and Mark could become friends.

He saved you, even though you treated him like badly because of wanting to be better than him.

He could photosnap a picture of your smile like this if he was honest. He would. “Sure Y/n.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s crazy how much the dynamic between you wanting to ram Mark Lee’s face into a wall every morning whenever you’re on the way to your class to now actually cooking with Mark Lee in your apartment kitchen casually making ramen together.

You weren’t sure how you got here.

But let’s not question it, you thought.

Mark casually chops spring onion into thin slices as you drain the ramen out the water and then slowly put them into two bowls: one for you and one for mark.

Mark sees you opening the sauce packets and pour the sauce over the noodles in the bowls. He brings out the chopsticks and walks to the fridge humming.

“Now let’s see what drinks you have in the fridge.” He’d look inside the fridge and he sees the options looking very sad and bleak.

He looks at you from the side. “Really? No juice except for water?”

You thinly smile. “If you’re going to complain how about you buy yourself juice down the store.”’

He rolls his eyes as you blatantly throw a sarcastic threat that wasn’t very, sarcastic at the same time. He grabs the cold iced water out the fridge slamming the door and walking over pouring it into one cup. He passed you it and you look up.

“For me?” You let out taking it. “Thanks. You’re not so bad as i thought.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He laughs.

You shrug smirking grabbing the bowl to take it inside the living room. The boy follows you from behind with his very own plate of the noodles in and you put the tv on letting it play in the background.

As you guys ate in peace occasionally you guys spoke asking each other questions about the most random things.

It started off asking about the weirdest thing that happened to you.

You both answered each other, guess it was fate?

“I really envied you Mark.” You boost as you dig your chopsticks into the ramen eating. Mark couldn’t really understand how you can envy him, but he always had a feeling you were out to destroy him for whatever reason.

You guess he now knows how you truly felt. You were filled with jealousy and hate because he in your eyes was probably the most perfect person out. The ideal student. The ideal son. The ideal husband for a woman. You kinda grew a sour taste in your mouth ever since meeting him but you feel now perhaps it could be a sweeter one where you don’t have to actively hate each other.

Mark sat there watching you eat but he really doesn’t know how you could be there envying him when you are there sitting looking effortlessly pretty on the face overall eating ramen, at home while you’re equally smart too.

“Do you need help with that?”

He would ask pointing to the hair that keeps falling down into your food everytime you lower your face to take a bite from the chopsticks. You were caught by surprise when Mark’s hands moves closer rolling up your long hair around his fists like a ponytail and lets you take a clean bite on the ramen. You chew happily smiling and Mark felt a sort of happiest seeing you eat with a wide smile.

You look back at him seeing how he stayed still holding your hair in his hands, rolling it up so nicely. You never told him to do that, but he did it anyways.

You guess it must be the side effect of being a worldwide super hero. You have to help others without asking.

Your eyes take a moment to appreciate Mark up close. It’s a rare moment given, so you didn’t waste time taking all the small details about his handsome face.

Yes, he is handsome. You have to give him that.

Mark saw the way your eyes fell on his lips and then back to his eyes going in a circle trying to see where you can look. It’s like you can’t keep a straight eye contact with him at the same time, you don’t have to look at his lips to be obvious.

It wasn’t long till his deep timber voice brought you back to reality where your bodies closeness was still there awaiting for sign movement. “Earth to Y/n?” He softly chuckles seeing you break apart.

You look up at him. “You zoned out on me Y/n.” He beams lightly watching you put the chopsticks down. You clear your throat.

“Sorry.” You reply with a smile, your attention goes back onto Mark no matter what. He’s a magnet for your eyes.

“Must be my handsome face distracting you.” It was a joking quote but little did he know it was exactly why you’re zoning out. Because of his handsome face and you weren’t sure how to reply until you’d roll your eyes over scoffing out as if that could ever happen.

You hum. “So you’re crazy and delusional.” You quote back and Mark smirks turning to you giving you a little nudge.

“All the best people are, honey.” He throws.

You sometimes wonder how did he get such quick comebacks for everything you’ve got to say it’s like he’s a complete generator ready and made to defeat you at every word on the end.

He has to have the last word.

“Honey?” You said back surprised to know he used such a given nickname.

He looks at you smiling as he ate more of the ramen. You felt your cheeks grew slightly pink.

‘Honey.’ You repeated.

Your attentions were soon moved to another conversation you two ended up bringing in and it was about your class. Of course the thing you’re both seriously insane about and you could tell this would be a whole war between you two.

But somehow this was different at the same time it wasn’t too. You both were disagreeing and debating argument but now you are talking with it like normal people. You’re not avoiding him.

Mark enjoys seeing you debate with him.

He loves a good challenge and a different point of view too.

“Right so you’re telling me you’d rather be in surgery than a cataract operation?” Mark couldn’t believe you’d rather chose the most stressful option of the day, he was leering at you shaking his head.

An operation leaves you more free loaded work to do meanwhile surgery can go wrong many ways because it has more people involved.

You strain out. “Of course. Surgery is more important than an operation.”

“So you’d take one for the team no matter what the outcome is?”

You shrug. “I either come out as a hero or come out as a failure.” You smirk out. “But we both know I only take wins so, I will never come out as a failure.”

You’re too much of a perfectionist to come out as a failure surgeon in a surgery.

“You’re too confident for your own good.” He stated with a laughter and you smirk watching Mark. “Of course i am. What is there about me that’s not good?”

For a minute Mark was told to look at you trying to figure out a flaw but he could not. He trails down capturing every little figure detail on your face which made his heart skip a beat and he wore it on his sleeve when he answers you truthfully, staring at your lips beginning to list out your features like he was drunk on them.

“You have perfect kissable lips, beautiful eyes…” he stops himself halfway through, he wanted to compliment your hands, saying how easy they fit into his when that night he held you.

“I have kissable lips?” You blurt out.

Mark awkwardly pauses looking away. God he shouldn’t of said that.

“No- I mean- yes— wait god no. What am I saying.”

You move closer and he flinches at your sudden movement pulling the man closer your mouth closes the gap and he can feel your lips slowly kissing him enough to give Mark the confidence for his arms to slowly wrap them underneath your body lifting you falling. He falls back on the couch with you on top kissing him with so much powerful he had no idea you were feeling this way, he felt your emotions, every bit and one of them. The kiss spoke a million words that you wanted to say with your voice but couldn’t. Mark’s hands caress down your back roaming under your shirt feeling your warmth body than they slip down groping your ass.

You press harder into the kiss you share with the man underneath you when he grabbed it giving it a tight squeeze on your round and perfect shape ass. He could die from how perfect your body is, a hourglass that could leave him dead on the train tracks. He loves every inch of you it’s to die for.

His voice strains past the red lips achingly adding. “God you’re fucking perfect, Y/n.” You loved hearing him moan from just a single kiss.

You’d wonder what noises he’d made once he’s inside you, you were craving to know.

You were stressing on his lap freely trying to undress yourself as soon as possible however you were struggling with the buttons and Mark couldn’t help but smile watching your fingers slip away. He slowly moves on the shirt unbuttoning you sensually while eyeing you up and down.

You felt your face grow red when you saw how he was watching you so intensely you weren’t even aware. Mark captured a kiss on your lips. “You looked like you needed help.”

You smirk on the short lived kiss. He slid off your shirt revealing your shoulders and your cleavage between your bra on. He swore he loves every part of you, even your chest looks out of this world. Every little detail about you turns him on.

It was magical in a way what you do to him.

Mark lays you down putting one hand between your spine undoing your bra uncoupling it with just one hand and you felt it go loose as he stripped the rest of you spreading his mouth down your chest now. Kicking between your nipple folds and kissing your breasts so tenderly, fondling them. You were arching your back grinding your stomachs together as you were rolling out your soft moans.

The next thing you knew it his mouth was around your pelvis slipping out your panties to the side and pressing the thin tip of his tongue on your folds through the panties you couldn’t help but watch yourself fold down, apart, sideways — every position freaking possible you were in. Mark loved seeing you break down for only his mouth wait until he fucks you for real.

He made sure his mouth left you wet and warm, he also made sure you would come and give him a taste of yourself because he’s not going to fuck you until you do exactly that.

You moan into your hand when you felt his teeth gently brush on your sensitive clit and your body clutch onto the couch flatly as Mark pinned a hand on your stomach hitching inside with each ragged finger inside your hole or when overstimulating you with his tongue you took the largest breathe inside. Everytime you did so his hand on your stomach felt it and he loved seeing and feeling your body tense up from all the ways he’s eating you out, like he was practically starved for you, made for you to do this to you. You loved the fact that his nose rests flat on you sometimes because he loves to see you above as he eats you out underneath.

He loves seeing your head fling back or your eyes roll back. He loves seeing your hair become a brush out mess and your neck veins popping out from how much you’re withdrawing your moans or you’re stuttering out your noises like they were broken recording tapes you would listen back on to.

Mark felt your wet leaning pussy throb and his eyes lit up seeing you moan higher. He knew you were close now and you’re running away from it.

He however, was not letting you go run.

You moan loudly. “Fuck-fuck I’m going to come.”

Mark muffles against your leaking hole pushing his tongue further deep now enough to stretch between your folds in a circular motion you shake your thighs uncontrollably. “Don’t run away from it now honey.” Mark wanted to taste you finally.

Without you knowing what’s to come next Mark’s fingers roughly entering you hitting the g spot loosely stretching your walls out in places you’ve never known could be done before and then his tongue was stuck on your clit going on and on like a running wheel on a car. Non stop driving you to your maximum speeds and mileage you couldn’t handle so much at once, especially his fingers, they felt too good to be true. He knew how to work with them, it’s like he will never catch you slipping. He had, spidery senses where he could just make you come on his fingers with just one movement.

Snap…

It’s all he needed to see when he saw you spew on his fingers right there and then wetting them with your pussy juices. He brought them out momentarily licking them clean and you watch him before he retract them back inside you seeing you moan out loud when he did so.

“Fuck, Mark….” You blabber.

You’re already so out of it and Mark can’t help but think how you’ll look and sound when his cock is in the picture with you.

He dug inside your pussy with his fingers humming down loving to see your juices come in and out. “You’re so… sweet tasting.” He trails loving you on his taste buds more than he anticipated.

“Can’t wait to feel you come undone on my cock.” And that’s when you felt your world splitting into two as he said this getting out the erected cock in front of you. You let your mouth spit on his tip massaging it with your saliva and Mark groaning out as he positions his tip to your aligning entrance, you felt the anticipation kill you till you feel a large wound coming in and pulling you widely apart.

You’re underneath Mark gazing into his eyes as you held on the side to his arms for support. You began to clench your eyes tight to adjust to him fully, who the heck knew he was going to be this big?

You didn’t see it coming until now you’re feeling it coming.

You were mourning for your grave the minute your done with him you’ll going to be the first person to have troubles walking after getting fucked out by your saviour Spiderman. You weren’t expecting it for him to be good in bed now too — you arch your back slowly when Mark starts thrusting as he feels you taking the shape of his cock. Your body was following him so well he feel like you were the perfect match for a rhythm player.

Mark could feel everything about you as much as you feel everything about him. His cock pumping you up until you will be ready to come undone chasing your high, or should in this case be highs. Mark was making sure you come out of here with so much drain energy that you will get lost counting the times you came in the scene. You knew he was making you feel the ultimate pleasure he can produce and you, you were shocked he could go on so much.

He loves seeing your stomach take an image of his manhood deep working inside. He loved the sight more than he should’ve because next he’s ramming in you to see a rougher sight of his cock hitting your stomach.

You were there arching constantly wondering how did he find the most sensitive places for your body, even yourself you never knew this could make you become a moaning mess under him.

He loves see your face scrunch up whenever you moan his name. He loves to hear your voice and to feel your words reach his heart.

Next thing you know, you’re the one becoming a blabbering fool who’s going on about how good he feels and how amazing he’s fucking you out till you lost your mind. Mark wants to tell you he knows, because he can feel every inch of you clenching his cock wanting to milk him dry within you nonstop. You want this to become a limitless.

Limitless moment with him.

Mark groans clutching your pelvis down. “I’m going to…!”

He couldn’t finish his sentence faster than his body. You hold your breath as you felt him snap finally inside you feeling a pair of warm fluid inside your body and you achingly put a hand on his shoulder as he was breathing heavily against your neck.

You could sense his heartbeat and your own too, Mark loves the sound of yours matching his. It made this moment somehow more memorable and special.

You tiredly close your eyes sighing out.

“So, Spiderman how do you feel about a date?”

Mark couldn’t believe his ears until he lifts his fave away from your neck staring into your eyes.

He might be becoming a fool for you.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

[ghoastixx]

hey, hi, um hello? I don't know what to do so I'm just guessing, if this is to vague, weird and or long I'm sorry please ignore it!!!

I wanted to try to request a supernatural Castiel x reader either fic or head cannons or anything really with a reader whose the Winchesters sister? This may be to specific but my favorite trope when I was a kid was the fake dating. So maybe the Winchesters are working with a different hunter who's kind of a creep and keeps flirting with reader and he won't back off despite the brothers warnings. So in the end Dean just calls Cas and is like congratulations you're dating my sister, now get him to back off! And so the two of them just start fake dating but after the hunt and the other hunter leaves Cas doesn't stop treating her all sweet and everything? I don't know, just something fluffy please, I think I made it way to complicated 😭😭 sorry for bugging you

Winchester Sister w/ Castiel

synopsis above

notes: YOU ARE NOT BOTHERING ME AT ALL!!!! I think this is so cute and just..so Cas? If that makes sense.. Thank you so so much for sending me this request, I love detailed requests!

Author's notes: Female reader, sort of sassy. Made up a hunter to be the creep, wanted to do Gordon but that would just make you a victim </3

Tried to keep the description of the reader vague so anyone can enjoy.

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The Winchesters' figured it would be so simple. The hunt was so simple, so why wouldn't drinks afterwards be? Mason, the hunter that was helping you all out and it went smooth, despite your brother's grudge against working with other hunters. Mason offered to take you all out for drinks. That's now where you were.

The first ick was when Mason sat next to you at the bar. You figured he was just trying to be friendly, you had just hunted together after all! But then he ordered you a drink which made you feel weird, but again, he was probably just trying to be nice. So you put on a smile and thank him.

"You really pulled your weight back there Y/N." He said, taking a drink of a beer.

"Oh- uh- thanks?"

"I like that in a woman."

"Excuse me-"

Dean, who was watching closely, was fuming. You tried to explain that you were not looking for a boyfriend currently, but he just wasn't listening. He wasn't leaving you alone. So, when Sam came back with drinks for both he and Dean, Dean looked at him and pointed this out. Sam seemed a bit uncomfortable with this, but suggested to let you handle yourself. You were more than capable and you all knew that.

When nothing had changed five minutes later and you started to look like you wanted to kill Mason, Dean decided to call out the big guns..

"Hello?" The solemn voice of the angel spoke a bit loudly through the phone.

"Yeah, Cas, listen. It's important, get here. We're at a small bar in Minnesota at exactly 777 boulevard Road."

With the sound of a flutter, Castiel was standing in front of Dean. "What's wrong?" Dean pointed behind him. Castiel turned around when Dean put his hands on Castiel's shoulders, getting close to his ear.

"Congratulations feathers, you're dating my sister. Now, see that guy right there? He's being a creep to your lady, go and kick his ass." Castiel, confused, nodded. He stood there a minute before walking in your direction. Sam looked at Dean, who had his arms crossed.

"Yeah, sick 'em boy!" Sam teased Dean, Dean looked at him with a pissy expression.

You were deep in your third beer, biting your tongue as you listened to Mason ramble on about his tastes. You were getting close to losing your temper before you heard a monotone voice behind you, you recognized it. It made you cock a brow,

"Y/N, I'm sorry that I'm late...dear." The nickname confused you, but nonetheless, you sat up straight and smiled at him.

"Cas," Once you acknowledged him, he put his hand around your waist. You looked at him with a more confused expression than you had before you seemingly got the hint. "Oh- that's alright honey. Don't worry about it. Cas, this is Mason. He just helped us with the hunt."

Mason looked at his competition with an annoyed expression. "And you are?"

"Castiel," The angel hummed, "her boyfriend." His eyes were stern, it made Mason squirm a bit. Seemingly a bit insecure because he stood up.

"I have to go. Bye Y/n." He mumbled before sulking out of the bar. You looked at Castiel, getting up.

"God- thank you Cas. You're a lifesaver." Cas's smile seemed a bit shy, which was unusual for the stern angel. He nodded. As you went to your brother's, he followed you, staying rather close.

As Dean and Sam talked to you about Mason, asking if you were okay, Castiel seemed more interested in you. Admiring you.

Whenever you guys decided to leave, Castiel actually got into the backseat with you, sitting directly next to you. He put his hand pretty close to yours, grazing against it. Dean noticed this in the rearview mirror, cocking an eyebrow.

Castiel was standing in front of the motel door, looking at you.

"So.. will I see you tomorrow?" A cheesy smile formed on your face, your cheeks a bit pink.

"Yeah Cas, I would love to.. Goodnight."

Dean groaned as he walked past.

"Cas, you know you're not actually dating Y/N, right?" he asked with a scoff.

"I'm not?" "He's not?"

[the-kr8tor]

👀🤣 may I request a Christmas fic where one/both the twins see R kissing Santa Claus (but it’s actually Hobie dressed as him) and they start an all out war against Santa? Can’t stop laughing my ass off from this idea

- 😅 (@hyperfix-wip )

Hehehe thank you for the cutest prompt!! I've always wanted to write this trope 😘❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, twin AU, cw food mentions, fluff!

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ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Billie wakes up with a start, heart pounding in her ears from the sudden wake up call. “What—?!” Her mouth is covered by a familiar hand, silencing her yell. “Mmhm?!” Eyes wide, she hones in on her twin’s face in the dark of their shared room. Save for the light flooding inside from the cracked open door, and their Spider-Man night light, it's pitch black.

“It's me!” Ramona whisper yells, front tooth still missing after she lost it in the playground. “Someone's downstairs. I think it's him!” Her eyes shine with excitement, curls bobbing up and down as she tries to contain her giddiness.

Billie yanks her sister's hand away, frowning at her from the sudden intrusion. “I was having a good dream, Mon.” Her look reminds Mona of her dad's exact expression when he has to mow the lawn again.

Mona ignores her sister's annoyance, “didn't you hear what I said? Santa's ‘ere! At our house!” She whisper yells again, this time loud enough for whoever's downstairs to pause their movements. Her eyes widened, hands covering her mouth to tamp down her excitement. “We should stay quiet—”

“Santa's ‘ere!” Billie is quieted once again by Mona's hands.

After waiting for a minute, the girls slowly and silently go outside of their room, matching holiday socks softly walking across the polished floorboards. Their pajamas are also on theme, with Mona opting for a pink sugar plum fairy matching set, and Billie wearing the classic Santa Clause set. Both that you've lovingly made for them. They're clearly excited, especially when it comes to the big bearded man in red. Billie more especially, after you and Hobie brought them to a local mall to see Santa and for them to give them their wishlist, she's been raving about wanting to stay up to catch him in the act. But after watching home alone and having a belly full of warm milk, she went out like a light. Mona on the other hand wants to see him eat the cookies you two prepared for Santa. It's her favourite, chocolate chips with marshmallows. She's hoping that the big man would like it, especially that she gave him the batch from her personal stash.

As they walk out of the hallway and into the floors of the second floor landing, they start to crawl once they see shadows dance along the walls of the living room. The tree that the four of you lovingly put up and decorated are twinkling with the holiday lights, reds, greens and yellows blinking in and out of the room.

“Do you think they'll like it?” They hear your familiar voice, whispering downstairs.

The girls make it to the stairs that overlook the living room, they make themselves smaller by lying prone on the cold floor, tiny hands grasping at the bannisters. Their eyes widen at the sight of who you are talking to.

Right next to you is the man of the hour himself, dressed in red with a giant sack of presents right next to him. He's taller than they've expected, and slimmer. Maybe Santa's cutting back on the cookies.

Billie grabs Mona's shoulder, shaking her excitedly. They wordlessly communicate through looks, based on their happy expressions, they feel like the luckiest kids in the world. They continue to watch Santa work his magic as he places wrapped presents underneath the tree with their names written on them.

“I know they'll love ‘em. ‘sides, Mona's been askin’ for it since July.” Santa replies to you, brown eyes shining in the string lights. His eyes seem to smile at you sitting in the corner of the room, hand occupied with a warm cup of eggnog. The bottom half of Santa's face is obscured by his big white beard, but he's clearly smiling softly at you. “And Bee always wanted that moon lamp ever since she saw Gwen's.”

Beaming at jolly Nick, you leave your cup on the coffee table to walk over to him. “I know, but what if they suddenly don't want those anymore.”

Santa stretches his hand out to you, beckoning you closer as he abandons the sack of presents on the floor. “Love,” love? The girls look at eachother with furrowed brows. Only their dad calls you that, and maybe occasionally that one shop owner downtown that you always buy fabrics from. “Y’know the girls would still be happy even if we gave them a potato each.”

You come to his side without saying anything about the close proximity to the actual Santa. The girls narrow their eyes at Santa's glove hand splayed across the small of your back, thumb rubbing gently across your soft pajama shirt. Only their dad gets to hold you like that.

Chuckling, you move to half hug him, arm wrapped around his back while you place your chin atop the soft red jacket. “Why a potato?”

“Because they go wild for chips.” He looks at you through gentle eyes, nudging his forehead on top of your own, the faux fur of his hat is soft against your skin.

“That's true, maybe we should've gotten them a whole sack of potatoes instead.” Your grin has the girls worried, especially when you move closer to him that the girls would know that it would have their dad burst into tears if they ever saw the scene in front of him.

“That's why ‘m santa, lovie.”

“Mm-hmm,” now you fully embrace him. The girls share a heavy look. “Why are you in full get up again? They won't be able to see you in this, not while they're snoring away all the cookies they had.”

“I know,” he shrugs, “what if they wake up, it'll be a nice memory for ‘em.” His arm squeezes you, hand dangerously close to your behind. The twins are both pissed, standing up from their place atop the stairs. “Or, ‘m all dressed up for you, love.” Santa winks at you, and you giggle in his arms. “Give big red a kiss, yeah?” As he leans in, the twins run downstairs swiftly, yelling and screaming at him to let their mum go.

“What— girls!” You move away, arms trying to block their attacks from hitting Santa.

“Not our mum!” Billie makes it to him first, clinging herself on his leg, trying to bite him through his red pants.

“We trusted you, Santa!” Mona leaps to punch at his stomach, earning a pained groan from the bearded man.

“Mona, no!” You grab her by the armpits as she continues to flail around, trying to get another hit. Good thing you’ve gotten to her before she aimed at his crotch. “Baby, no, that's—!” You contemplate telling them the truth, but Hobie's subtle head shake has you clamping down and embracing Mona.

“Ow, fuc–fudge!” Hobie hops around the room, trying to wiggle free of Billie, who's still clutching at his leg. “Billie, stop!” The one time that his spidey senses failed him.

“I don't care if ‘m on the naughty list! You tried to kiss our mum!” She chomps down on his leg, and he yelps when her baby teeth sink into the fabric and into his leg.

Hobie has no choice but to grab Billie the same way you did with Mona. He holds her in front of him, an arm's length away, still trying to take a chunk out of him. He feels like he ruined the magic of Santa for them. Not to mention the song.

“Stop–!” Hobie holds out his hand to her to tell her that he means no harm, but she tries to bite at his finger. “Billie—!”

“Daddy!” Ramona screams out, voice echoing and rumbling the house. “Daddy, there's an– an impruder!”

You would've chuckled at her fumbled pronunciation of intruder and told her the right way to say it, but when she's on the verge of tears; the both of them are, you have to think of a solution.

“Daddy!” Billie joins in, now fully sobbing. “H–He kissed mummy!”

“I haven't! Not yet!” Hobie tries to defend himself, or Santa for that matter. But it makes the whole thing so much worse when Billie wiggles herself out of his grasp to run towards yours and Hobie's bedroom while crying for him. “Shi—!”

You meet with his eyes while embracing a crying Mona. Mouthing a ‘Go!’ He immediately knows what you're up to. Your synergy levels with him are off the charts.

He leaves through the window, snow crunching underneath him and almost freezing him in the spot. He slowly rips off the Santa outfit one by one whilst he makes his way towards the back of the house. Shedding the beard and tossing it haphazardly in the backyard, he crawls on the wall, finally making it to the bedroom window just as when Billie opens the door with a loud creak.

Feigning naiveté, he acts shocked at her weeping as he opens his arms to her. “What happened?” She sobs on his sleep shirt, drenching it with tears. As Hobie pats her back, he realises that he's still wearing the gloves which he promptly throws away and under the bed before she could see it. “C’mon, mac, tell dad.” He cups her wet cheeks, trying to calm his little girl down.

“I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus!”

Hearing Mona's cry in the doorway with you carrying her, he knows that you two have a long night ahead of you.

—

“Are you sure you want to change pajamas, Billie? You said it's your favourite. The red suits you—” You try to placate her with a plate of chocolate pancakes.

“Yes.” She says so surely with her arms crossed over her chest, still fuming. “I hate Santa.”

Hobie's sitting right next to Mona, hand rubbing along her back whilst she stares angrily at the empty plate of cookies she left for Santa sitting on the counter. “Me too.” She huffs, stabbing her pancakes with a fork.

You share a look with Hobie, hoping that he has any idea how to calm them down. Hugging Billie seems to tamp down her anger, but she still looks at you with furrowed brows after you've apologized profusely.

“Why did you kiss, Santa?” She asked a few hours ago, stomping her little foot down on your bedroom floor, while her sister followed her lead.

“I didn't!” You stared at Hobie right next to you on the bed, looking like he's about to burst into laughter but is keeping it in. “And I wasn't gonna!”

After that whole ordeal, they seem to simmer down to a silent anger that still reverberates through the house. Maybe opening the presents earlier would make them forget it and make them smile.

“We should make signs, Bee! Like what dad makes so Santa knows not to come back ‘ere!” Mona lights up, you finally got a smile out of her.

“That's brilliant!” Hobie plays along, and Billie agrees with rapid nodding that you had to stop with your hand on her forehead before she breaks something. “I'll get my supplies, you two go finish your pancakes, yeah?” Just as he says it, they scarf down the pancakes, prompting Hobie to grab your hand and speed walk away from the kitchen.

Once the two of you are out of earshot and their sights, he corners you against a wall, hands cradling your cheeks, and sighing as he relaxes atop you.

You laugh against his hair, pressing lazy kisses on his hairline. “Don't forget to grab the outfit outside, Hobie. I made that to tailor you and you only.”

He lifts his head up from your chest, cheeks puffed out from sleepiness. Blowing out air, you giggle at him as he flutters your lashes. “I know, love.” His eyes roam all over your face, looking at every curve and dip until he stops at your lips. “I still haven't gotten my answer.”

“Or what? You'll put me on the naughty list?”

Hobie leans closer, lips brushing along your waiting lips. “Lovie, you're on my list every year.”

“I hope I'm the only one on it.” You say, wordlessly inviting him for a kiss by pecking his jaw softly.

“You and you only.” With a chuckle atop your lips, he kisses you under the mistletoe he subtly put up with the sole purpose of kissing you underneath it.

[solecize]

fic preview: save the date | san x reader

from middle school walls to lecture halls, choi san was your ultimate nemesis that, for most of your life, fought to do everything better than you. even worse, there was no escape from him when your older sister and his older brother were childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love. years later, the inevitable wedding bells had now come around the corner for them and as her maid of honour, you had one goal: making sure nobody fucked up the wedding. specifically, you were not going to let san, the best man, fuck up the big day.

unfortunately, when the ring goes missing less than twenty hour hours before the wedding, you have no choice but to work with the said best man who you drunkenly slept with days before the wedding - yes, the same one that you hated for over a decade - to track down a ten thousand dollar ring. starting from midnight, it's a race against the clock for you and san to go on the wildest chase of your life to, well, save the date. 

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: san/female reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. non idol au, epic rom com, academic rivals, childhood enemies to lovers, fluff, slight angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. foul language, violence, blood, mention of drugs and drug use, general substance use (smoking and drinking), y/n and san get stranded in a foreign city together after embarking on adventure where they almost get scammed, jumped, etc., assigned seats on an airplane trope, unrequited pining, san gets a glo up after coming back from the military, more to be added 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. n/a 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. tbd.

  being entrusted with the role of maid of honour meant a lot of things to different people, but it was different for you. you happily accepted the title for your sister’s wedding with one main goal in mind: making sure that no one fucks up the big day. specifically, making sure that choi san did not fuck up the big day. 

  unfortunately, with less than twenty-four hours before the wedding due to ring for your sister and san’s older brother, you realized that you were the one that fucked up.

  if someone were to tell you that you ended up dodging a robbery, lugging around a broken e-scooter, outrunning a rabid wild animal, and losing your phone the night before your sister’s wedding, you would have asked them what drugs they were on. and given a year’s worth of stress in anticipating and planning and fittings, you’d likely even ask them to share some. the worse part was that, you’d actually fucked up forty-eight hours before your sister’s wedding and the night you were currently having was just the cherry on top.

  but, that is where you found yourself in a foreign city with no money and no idea how to get back to your hotel at four in the morning. the only thing you could do was stare at choi san, still in his clothes from the rehearsal dinner earlier that night and was preoccupied with nursing his bruised knuckles. 

  san was not a smoker, but he leaned against the wall of a closed coffee shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “you think this is all my fault, don’t you?” he grumbled, finally meeting your sharp gaze.

  this was not even the beginning of the story, though. the real beginning of the story begins in middle school circa 2012, when your first ever crush ruined everything before anything could even happen by simply opening his mouth. 

  choi san was the transfer student that all of the girls in your year whispered and giggled about. you only caught a glimpse of him on the first day of school when you could barely make out his face at the school assembly. 

  “he’s so freaking cute! did you get to see him, y/n?” 

  your best friend at the time jogged up to you at lunch and by this point in the day, you’d heard from nearly all your classmates about the mysterious new kid. you were a bit exasperated, feeling as though you were missing out.

  you shook your head. “no. i think i saw the side of his face, but that’s it.”

  “look at his instagram,” she swooned, tapping on her phone until his profile came up.

  you would never admit it aloud, but you thought your heart skip a beat. “that’s what he looks like? oh my god, he plays basketball, too?”

  that pretty much sealed the deal for you. without shame, you pulled out your own phone to follow san on social media, since it already looked like he was gaining mutuals from other people in your school. everyday from then on seemed to be a game of “can you spot your crush” at school and you got the closest when you lingered a little bit too long after gym class, long enough that you left as soon as basketball try-outs for the boys team began. 

  it was 2012 and nothing else mattered to you except crushing over choi san from respectable distance, gangnam style, one direction, and reading all of the hunger games books. it was like this for the first couple months at school, until you and san finally encountered one another.

  you heard from others that san was incredibly bright and academically gifted, so you were hoping that, he too, would join robotics club. it felt like a dream when your wishes came true and san walked into the first meeting of the season.

  “you’re totally staring at him,” whispered yeosang on this day, to which you elbowed him for. yes, you were definitely staring, but he could have just chose to keep his mouth shut.

  you’d avoided directly speaking to san for the first few meetings, just out of nerves alone. eventually, the club’s first major competition was to come around the corner and the club had to brainstorm their plan. 

  as one of the returning members from the year prior, you expected to be met with respect and have your opinions be considered important. the faculty supervisor had even told you that he had hopes for you taking over as captain in the next year, after the current leader, hongjoong, graduates. 

  “i can take charge of the programming team,” you offered, as hongjoong went over the challenge announcement of the competition.

  that was the moment everything went wrong.

  it looked there was no opposition, until you heard a chuckle from the other side of a room. you were confused, not recognizing the voice. spinning around, you saw that it was san and your heart dropped.

  “you? do you even know how to code?” his eyebrows were raised. 

  your jaw could have easily hit the floor, as you narrowed your eyes at him. “what?” was all you could say.

  “you’re a girl, there’s no way you should be in charge of programming.”

  that year, there were only three girls in robotics club, which was an improvement from the two the year before. it was you, who was the only female member with experience in the club, and then sunyoung and yena. 

  sunyoung never fucking spoke, she never even made eye contact with anyone. she kept to herself and was never going to speak up, but you knew that she was the highest ranking student in your year and had skipped an entire grade. you couldn’t believe sunyoung let that slide. meanwhile, yena always insisted that she was “one of the boys” and was the kind of girl to talk your head off about how she hates taylor swift. you might’ve even heard her murmur in agreement to what san said.

  “are you a fucking idiot?” your thirteen year old self snapped at san, eliciting gasps from around the room. 

  of course, your foul mouth came from none other than your headstrong older sister and at the same moment you began forming a life-long hatred for choi san, she was a couple blocks away at the high school, falling in love with choi san’s older brother during chemistry class. it was a classic high school love story, meeting as lab partners and experiencing first love in between shelves at the library. 

  one day, when your sister happily skipped into your room and sang that she now had a boyfriend, it had been weeks since you already declared san your nemesis. from what you remember, she was so head over heels for her lab partner that it was nauseating - she had to have been, since she was now marrying him over ten years later. 

  “he has a little brother your age, you know,” she said, later the same night. “goes to your school, maybe you’ve met him.”

  the two of you were relaxing on your bed, as your sister scooted closer to show you pictures of her new and first-ever boyfriend on her phone. you raised an eyebrow at her, wondering who she was talking about. 

  “maybe. what’s his name?” you asked.

  “san. choi san.”

[kyber-crystal]

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that 

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck. 

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you. 

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot. 

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him. 

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his. 

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane. 

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.” 

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him. 

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out. 

“You're hurt.”

No response again. 

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence. 

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see. 

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him. 

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks. 

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.  

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door. 

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face. 

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.” 

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting. 

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle. 

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface​ 

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[chubbybunny25]

Hello, I hope you’re doing well :D

Recently I was thinking about the “X falls first, Y falls harder” trope with specific regard to Percy and Nico and idk in my head you’d be the best at playing around with and breathing life into it so here goes:

Nico’s confession and how he does it is still canon (in vibe, maybe not word choice), Percy ponders that confession, breaks up with Annabeth (for reasons separate to the confession), builds a friendship with Nico, falls SO hard, but Nico has been trying so hard to get over this man at this point and put so much into feeling Platonic Thingz™️ only that his response to Percy’s confessions and advances is denials and soft rejections—dodging what look like one on one dates, “I love you” R being met with “I love you” P, and, when Percy outright says “I wanna be with you” Nico is like “Ummm… no you don’t?”—but eventually Nico confronts himself and they wind up very happily together?

Yeah :)

Hello! The “X falls first, Y falls harder” trope is definitely perfect for Percy/Nico. However, as sweet as it sounds, there's also a lot of potential for drama and.. angst.

One of the things that us, percico shippers usually love to delve on is the interactions between Percy and Nico in canon (tbotl is such a percico book 😏), hence their chemistry. But also, that's the thing!—they had so much history it would definitely take time (years, maybe) to fully unpack everything and realistically get them together.

This might be longer than I'd intend it to, so I'm putting more details under the cut:

It is undeniable that Nico indeed fell first. But what makes Percy fall harder? It's time—the time that has passed since Percy knew Nico (but Percy has to reflect on that) and the time Percy would only ever have after everything is over (outside quests and saving the world). Inevitably, it's also the same time that wasn't allowed for perc*beth to have (which might be the reason why Percy and Annabeth haven't fallen hard enough for each other, but that's for another time).

Going back to what makes it angsty.. What if Nico can't wait that long? What if by the time Percy wanted to be with him, Nico had already accepted that they're not meant to like each other that way?

As for Nico's self-confrontation, ig we're taking the hoo!Nico route where Percy hasn't done enough to be his friend (which again, Percy didn't have the time). Some of the reasons why Nico would dodge Percy's advances are 1) Nico thinks Percy is just being too kind to him; 2) Nico thinks Percy is still guilty and would want to take responsibility for how Nico turned out to be; or 3) Nico enjoys their friendship too much and thinks that being "more" would destroy everything between them.

I took the "mild" route in one of my fics because I gave Nico time to go away and Percy stepped back. But with your ask, if Nico and Percy are always together, and Percy is more.. forward, I think no matter what Percy does, it wouldn't be enough to make Nico believe that Percy loves him.

Again, the waiting time here is crucial. Yet we know that patience is never Percy Jackson's strong suit. So Percy just.. snaps, either by outright kissing Nico or (adding drama here) yelling something along the lines of "I love you, Nico! Why wouldn't you believe me?" Going from here, there has to be an outside intervention (e.g. Hazel or Jason or Reyna or even Persephone if Nico runs to the Underworld)—anyone or anything that would make Nico realize that he and Percy actually can have the chance.

It ends maybe with Percy finding Nico, Percy saying "Fine, if you don't believe me, just never leave like that again. I'd take what you'll give me." And that's when Nico sees himself in Percy—that somehow cements his belief, that maybe, Percy Jackson has fallen for him, too.

Whoo.. I hope you're ready for such a ramble, because I can never stfu about them. Thanks for the wonderful ask 💀🌊

[whumpsday]

3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!

Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.

Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.

Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee

Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.

And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!

An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.

It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.

Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master

Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.

The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.

The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.

This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.

Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore

Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death

Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.

that's all I have for now :)

(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)

[aliorsboxostuff]

bob Floyd x male reader who is quiet and intimidating, only to silently become a guard dog to him

idk I haven't slept, hope this makes sense

OOOOOH THIS TURNED OUT SO NICE TBH I love grumpy x sunshine sm :(( it's such a cute trope uGHHH and writing this was such a trip lmao I loved how it turned out tbh thanks so much for the idea!! so I hope you all do too!

Note: Reader is regarded as Panther for his callsign. The fic is in a 3rd POV.

Stone-Cold

Tags: Robert Floyd/Male Reader, Bob x Male-aviator!Reader, sunshine x grumpy!!, Robert Floyd, Natasha Trace, Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin, Halo, Fritz, Yale, Rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick, Iceman, Penny, Meet-cute, First meeting, Fluff, Implied smut, kissing, making out, getting together, separation, slight angst, time skips, NOT TOO MUCH THO!, No use of Y/N, slight OOC, Background Icemav, Background Sereshaw, Background relationships, i don't know shit about fighter pilots, only did small research lmao

Bob met Panther, a dark-eyed individual who never even glanced in his direction. But that soon changes when he finally gains his friendship and the two hit it off, flying through a healthy relationship, a falling out, and a reunion. 

—

The first time Bob met Panther was in basics. Panther stood a foot taller than him, with dark eyes that were only focused on the board whenever they were in class. Due to his height, Panther was situated in the back, just two rows behind where Bob usually sits. A suffocating dark air seems to always follow the man, making his classmates, including Bob, avoid him most of the time. It doesn't help that the man barely talks, it's a miracle they even knew his Callsign. 

They say he got it after someone from his old crew saw him in the middle of the night, outside of the building, with glowing golden eyes. Paired with his big build, Bob hopes the Callsign story is nothing but a rumor of some drunken crew that stumbled his way and saw Panther that night. 

It was a usual Wednesday. His class has departed to spend their lunchtime while Bob makes his way to the cafeteria, reviewing the lesson plan inside his head. While he was too engrossed in his little ramblings, he hadn't realized he bumped into someone waiting in the line in front of him. Bob immediately stops and rubs his nose which took the burn of the bump. 

“Sorry!” He quickly musters, realizing he had to incline his head in order to meet the person's eyes, and much to his surprise, it was Panther. The man raised a brow and fixed Bob with a stare that made the shorter pilot gulp. Suddenly, Panther shrugs and turns back around, as if to brush off an insignificant bug. Now that is a treatment Bob is familiar with, so he’s back to looking down into his binder while waiting for his turn.

After obtaining his lunch, he looks around for his usual table, on the far end of the large room. He smiles to himself as he spots it vacant and makes his way to his place. As he sets his tray down, a similar noise follows. Bob raises his head to find Panther, he was the one placing his tray in front of Bob. His eyes widen, panic settling in before he hears the tall man in front of him speak. “Is… this seat taken?”

To hear Panther's voice was a rarity, the man only spoke in class if their instructor specifically asked him to answer. He sounded… Timid—Far from what Bob’s expectation was. The brunette stumbles on his words, finding his voice to answer the man in front of him. 

“N-no, go ahead,” Bob manages a welcoming smile, well, he hopes it was welcoming. Panther nods, and takes his seat and so does Bob. He puts aside his binders and readjusts his glasses, a nervous habit. He finds himself looking at his tray of food, then back to his books, then to the blank table. Bob doesn't know what to do with his hands. Awkwardness surrounds both of them.

“I see you took notes of today's class,” Panther was the one who broke it. 

Bob perks, before he sheepishly nods. “Yeah its, uh- good for review,”

“Do you think… You can explain some stuff to me? I didn't really catch today's lesson…” The taller man looks to his side, then scratches the back of his neck. Behind his glasses, Bob’s eyes lit up, before he smiled and nodded, his hands already on their way to open one of his many binders.

That was the start of Bob's and Panther's friendship. He admits, he never had the best experience with his peers. Most of the time he’s left alone or is only noticed whenever they have a question, no one ever truly became close with Bob. No one’s ever picked on him, that would be childish, but then again—If you pile some humans filled with testosterone in one shower room, there's bound to be some name-calling or stink eyes. Bob has had his fair share of it, never taken it to heart, even if some days it hurts more than it looks. 

But ever since Panther spends his lunch with Bob, the other guys have chosen to leave him alone, even in the shower rooms. No one ever laughed behind his back again, those whispers whenever he was in class or passing by has also disappeared. Panther has spent the better half of his day sticking to Bob, being by his side, going where Bob is going, and only separates when they have different schedules or if he was waiting for his own turn in the rec room while Bob is in training. 

It’s been a couple of months since their initial meeting now. Bob and Panther are well into their flight training program, and are currently leading in their class grade. Two of the best in their class, with Bob having a couple of scores above Panther. 

The clock barely touched 8 PM. Panther was lounging about in Bob’s room, with his roommate being somewhere in the city, no doubt getting drunk between girls, Panther was free to roam in his best friend's room. Bob is currently on his bed, reading something from a textbook while Panther was doing nothing in particular on the floor, his long limbs strewn about. The only thing illuminating the room is the stripes of moonlight and the dim light of Bob's bedside lamp. 

“Hey Bob,” Panther calls from the floor. Bob hums. “Ever thought of getting into Top Gun?” 

Bob tilts his head slightly. He closes the textbook, putting his glasses aside before leaning on the edge of his mattress. “Maybe. Why?”

“Nah, just thought if you wanted to, you could,” Panther grins up to a confused Bob.

“What's that supposed to mean?” The brunette smiles, strands of his fringe falling into his eyes. 

“You’re smart. Smarter than all of us in class, not to mention you’re a half-decent pilot,” Bob chuckles at that, now fully leaning down to meet his friend's eyes. Panther smiles up at him. “I think you’d make it into Top Gun.”

While Bob doesn't have his glasses on, Panther's smile is just as warm, feeling it seeping into his skin. “You smile more around me,” 

Panther’s smile faltered slightly, before he suddenly sat up, supported by his arms behind him, and then they were inches apart. Bob’s eyes widen, finding how close his friend is sitting, he can practically breathe him in. The brunette blinks, swallowing a lump. “That day, the first time we talked, why did you choose to sit with me?”

Panther’s lips are parted slightly. “I just… I knew you weren't as shit as the others,” 

Bob huffs a laugh and Panther mimics it. “Really?” 

“Yeah, plus…” Panther leans closer, his voice drops into a whisper. “You were the only one worth talking to,” 

It happened so slowly. Bob closes his eyes before he feels the man's lips on his, trusting himself wholly to Panther. He feels himself being pushed, his hands scrambling to wrap around Panther's shoulders before he pushes Bob onto the bed and he climbs in himself, lips never parting. He presses and presses, until Bob's lips part and he feels Panther's tongue slips in, which makes Bob groan between their breath and pants. Bob finds himself laid beneath Panther, feeling his friend's hair between his fingers, the solid weight on top of him calms his pestering anxiety. He’s shared a kiss or two, and dated some girls and one boy, but has never gone as far as making out. But despite it all, Panther's mere existence on top of him, caging him in, soothes his worries, and is willing to follow Panther into the long night.

He’s lucky his roommate came back late because he had to kiss Panther goodbye as he sneaked back into his room, not before he heard the man groan from outside his doors; something about his roommate asking questions about last night, which made Bob laugh. 

Before Panther left, they had woken up in each other's arms, Bob had the best sleep he’s had in years. Panther was playing with Bob’s curly morning hair, before the more petite man groans and reaches numbly for his glasses, at which Panther laughs and hands it to him. Once he situated his glasses, he finds himself looking at the man on top of him, a soft smile between those addicted lips. “Morning,” He said.

“Mornin’” Bob drawls, turning to face Panther. He smiles, before pressing a kiss to Bob's temple, which Bob closes his eyes upon feeling it. Instead of pulling back, Panther stays there.

“I hope this isn't a one-time thing,” He mumbles into Bob's curls. The brunette blinks, before he pulls back to meet Panther's eyes. 

“It isn't.” So serious, so sure of his words. Bob was famous for his hesitation, for his timidness in front of his peers, but this. This, he’s confident about. 

Pather’s blank stare breaks into a smile, before he dives back in and smothers Bob with kisses, pulling him right back into his arms, and they spend the rest of the dawn just like that. 

—

Bob graduated on top of his class. Pather follows just behind him, but despite it, they’re both worthy of their wings of gold. 

After their graduation ceremony, after the pictures and congratulations from instructors and family members, and awkwardly meeting Bob’s cheerful parents and myriads of siblings, after meeting Panther's own family, the two finally manage to sneak away. Panther pulls Bob into the back of his Land Rover, the shorter male giggling as his boyfriend smothers him in kisses.

“I’m so proud of you,” Panther smiles, pulling back from his grinning boyfriend. Bob's glasses are askew, a wide smile on his lips. He can feel himself blushing, the steady heat spreading through his cheeks, which makes Panther lean back in to kiss him again. 

They both ended up in the back seat of Panthers Rover, entwined with each other, breathing in lungfuls, a smile on both of their lips. Bob leans to bury himself deeper into Panther's chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips. Panther hums, his arm pulling Bob closer. His other hand examines the small wing, it reflects the night's shine. 

“What now?” Panther sighs, pocketing the golden wings then turns to his boyfriend. Bob's brown eyes shine with the moonlight. 

“I don't know,” The brunette looks out of the car’s window. “Get assigned a squadron,” 

It would be the next step in their career. Panther has learned that Bob would be aiming to get into Top Gun, and he would be following Bob if he could, always one step behind him. 

Panther turns to face Bob, the aviator picking at his finger. He slowly entwines his fingers with Bob’s, making him glance up to meet Panther's eyes. The taller male softly smiles, moving a stray hair from Bob's eyes. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,”

—

Two weeks after their Uranium mission, the crew has decided to hang out in the Hard Deck before some of them get shipped out into another deployment. Rooster was busy with Hangman, the two have been getting along ever since Hangman saved Rooster and Mav’s lives. They hung at one of the back tables of the Hard Deck, a bottle of beer in each other's hand. They’re standing awfully close, which makes Phoenix raise a brow.

“Let’s hope they don't break each other's heart again,” Bob snickers, picking at his cashews. 

“You don't want to take care of Roo?” 

“God no, you're lucky you weren't there for the first time,” Phoenix’s face scrunches in disgust, which makes Bob laugh. The WSO has been sticking with his pilot for most of their leisure time, mostly because he didn't know where else to go. Bob supposed he’ll follow where his next mission took him, or hope Cyclone is merciful and put him and Phoenix on the same crew. 

Coyote and Payback are playing pool, along with the others, sometimes cheering one of them on or laughing at a joke or quip the group would say. Maverick said he couldn't join the crew, something about spending his day with Iceman, which they all completely understood and cheered in their group chat. It's a particularly slow day for the Hard Deck, not a lot of patrons on this sunny Wednesday. Penny was conversing with another patron, and overall calming noon washing over Fightertown. 

The doors of Hard Deck chimes open. Bob and Phoenix are engrossed in their conversation, and despite standing on the other side of the bar, they did not recognize the customer that came in. A tall man on his peripherals is the only thing Bob notices before Phee makes him laugh and he’s back to ducking. 

“Hey there, I'm looking for a Bob Floyd?” 

The familiar voice almost gave Bob whiplash as he turned his head. And he thought he'd lost him…

“Panther?” 

The man in question walks past the bar and finds the familiar and comforting blue of Bob’s eyes. The pilot stands from his stool, taking shaky steps toward Panther. 

The last Bob ever heard of Panther was years ago, before his first deployment as they were assigned their own squadron. Bob was devastated that he wouldn't be getting the same squadron as Panther did, but with reassuring parting words, Panther promised the younger pilot that they’d meet again, one way or another. Since then, Bob has been moving from one deployment to another, meeting new people and squadrons, and experiencing different pain and happiness in his life. He got into the Top Gun program, and he met his current friends. He met Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy and the others, but despite it all he had hoped to somehow see Panther again. 

He never considered the man to find him.

“Hey,” Panther's smile is just as blinding as he remembers it. He gives Bob a once over, spotting the outfit Bob is wearing, before he chuckles. “Never changed, huh?”

Bob follows his laugh, finding the courage to reach out to hold Panther's wrist, which makes a steady blush rise to his cheeks. Panthers laugh stutters before he clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck.

“And you never changed too,” Panther's eyes widen a bit, before he breaks into a smile, which makes Bob grin. He brings himself to stand closer to Panther, having to crane his neck to meet the man's eyes. 

“How did…” Bob's question falters, but luckily still understood Panther.

“I found you? Well, word travels fast when you are on the same mission as Captain Maverick,” Panther smirks. Bob laughs, realizing the recent fame the crew got ever since they spent their time with Mav. If you were taught by the legendary Maverick and were on a successful mission alongside him, the story definitely travels fast.

Though, Bob's brow furrows again. “But how did you know I was here?”

“I have my sources,” Panther shrugs, making Bob pat his arm. He's still supporting those muscles that made Bob’s head spin. Bob blinks, trying to hide away his blush by suddenly pulling Panther into a hug, which makes the man laugh and wrap his arms around the shorter pilot. Panther shakes from the laughter as he rests his chin on Bob's head. Bob melts at the sound of the familiar heartbeat, the warmth Panther exudes. 

The two move apart when they suddenly hear the sound of clapping, only to find Hangman walking towards them. “Is that the Panther I see?”

Bob tilts his head, before he feels himself being shifted to stand beside the taller man. “Hangman,” 

His jaw slackens. He has never seen Panther revert back to the stone-cold gaze he once wore back in basics, not even when Bob made a mistake that Panther rightfully got angry about. Yet, right now, he has that exact face while facing Hangman. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when you're back in Fightertown,”

“Never thought I'd see your douchey-ass here again,” Panther retorts. He stands much taller than Jake, though he still has his bite despite the height difference, seemingly unbothered. Jake leans over to look behind Panther's broad shoulders, finding a confused Bob. 

“You knew him?” Jake smirks.

“We were in basics together,” Bob nods, his hand slowly reaching for Panther's arm, patting it softly. “He’s my friend,” 

Panther takes a breath, before sighing and moving aside, turning towards Bob with a frown. “Sorry, my bad,”

“It’s alright, I'm fine, Panther,” Bob smiles, pushing stray strands behind Panther's ear affectionately. 

Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the crew, including Jake, is currently looking at the two with wide eyes and jaws on the floor. Bob wasn't particularly open to touch, in fact—The only people that ever hugged him were the selected few in the Dagger Squad. Phoenix was normally seen with him, and even then she kept her distance with the backseater. And to the extent of Hangman's knowledge, the Panther he knew back in his Fighter Squadron days was a reserved and quiet guy, mostly intimidating with his height and build, but usually kept it to himself.  To see the usually scary man being so touchy with a usually not touchy-feely guy is, to say the least, odd. 

The two spent the rest of the day catching up. Bob has learned that Panther took a different route than aiming for Top Gun, and instead got deployed at some places to teach classes, the main reason why he hasn't been able to visit Fightertown. He also learned the second that he got a whiff of information that a squadron, led by Maverick, has done a successful mission and is still in Miramar, Panther booked the first flight to San Diego. He wasn't expecting to find Bob, he was hoping. 

Panther ended up listening to everything his friend dumped on him. He knows Bob doesn't easily talk, only in short replies, so he’s happy to find him still so accepting to share his life with Panther. He learns about the Dagger Squad, how he's apparently close with Maverick now, and his experience throughout the death-defying mission. Panther, regardless of it all, was glad he had Bob in one piece instead of being invited to the aviator's honorable funeral. He’s proud to hear Bob making new friends, meeting new people, and is especially interested in meeting Phoenix. 

“Oh wait, let me use the toilet, be back in a bit,” Panther places his Whiskey down, patting Bob's back as he heads to the toilets.

Phoenix immediately corners her WSO, sliding up next to him. She stares him down, bewildering Bob. “Who’s that guy and what's his deal?” 

Bob takes a second to blink. “Im- Panthers my friend,”

“He seems more than a friend, Bob,” He knew he was safe with Phoenix. He knew he was safe with everyone, because they aren't like the old folks who glare at any two guys standing too close for comfort. Hell, they have Rooster and Hangman who are currently dancing around each other. But for Bob to tell Pheonix his ‘once boyfriend’ was a bit challenging for him. But he trusts her, and she worries for him. 

“He’s my… Old Boyfriend? We never broke up, but-”

“He left you?”

“No! Phee please,” Bob sighs, readjusting his glasses. “ We got different squadrons and went our separate ways, honestly, it's a miracle he ever found me,” 

The aviator looks down at his glass, the water reflecting his longing gaze. Bob smiles. “I never stopped loving him,” 

Phoenix leans back, away from her backseater. Her eyes find the deep pools of Bob’s blues, having known him well enough to see past his usual awkward demeanor. The pilot huffs, before she looks past Bob and then stands. “I’m sure he feels the same,” 

She passes Bob then, not before patting his shoulder, then walking away. Panther passes by the pilot, the shorter lady giving him a knowing look which makes Panther's brows crease, but he takes his seat again, already turning to face Bob. 

“That’s Phoenix?” 

“Heh, yeah,” Bob answers into his glass as he sips. Panthers swivel back around, finding Phoenix next to Hangman and an unknown man who supports a great porn stache. Panther manages a small smile, to which Phoenix responds with a nod. 

“I like her,” Bob laughs.

—

It was well over closing hour when Penny finally pushed the crew out of the Hard Deck door, saying something about reporting them to Maverick if she had to, which made all of the squad rush out and into San Diego’s cool evening. 

Some piled into Fitz’s car, Halo went with Phoenix on her bike, Hangman is already in Roosters Bronco, which left Bob alone with Panther. The two stay on the bar's porch, watching their friends stumble into their respectful vehicle. Bob spotted the guys fighting over who drives Fitz’s car even though the only sober one was Yale at that point, which made him laugh. Halo was already clinging to a sober Phoenix, clearly babbling about something. 

Throughout the night, Panther has gotten into conversations with the squad. Hangman even offered him a match at pool, which he demolished, leaving Jake to wallow his way to Rooster, so he learned the name of the pilot with the sick stache. Panther felt welcomed amongst them, their sense of family palpable. He finds himself smiling most of the time, which freaked Jake out. And it seems they're on a first-name basis now, which Bob greatly appreciates. 

They watch as their friends pull out of the parking lot, some blasting music, others oddly calm which bothered Bob. He hopes Rooster won't actually break Jake. 

After the dust has settled and their rear lights are far off into the distance, Bob releases a sigh, smiling to himself.

“So, Bob,” Panther turns to him, making Bob tilt his head to match. “I have my Range Rover,” 

“Still the same old?” 

“The one my aunt gifted me, yeah,” Panther laughs, which makes Bob grins. He suddenly grew quiet, looking down into Miramar’s sand instead of meeting Bob. The shorter man furrows his brow, something churns in his gut. Before Panther opens his mouth, Bob beats him to it.

“I don't-” Bob takes a breath. “...What are we?” 

At that, Panther smiles easily. He reaches for Bob's hand, holding them, drawing small circles on the back of the pilot's hands. “I’m your boyfriend, if you’ll take me,” 

Then he brings Bob’s chin close, pressing his lips against him, and it’s back to basics. Back to the old dorms where Bob felt a surge of euphoria. Where he could finally let his walls be undone by the man he trusted the most. He’s missed this. Missed the easy slide of their lips, the comforting scent of Panther, the way his hand slots between the man's broad chest, how Panther pulls him closer by his hips and suddenly he’s weightless. Bob smiles into their kiss, happy to finally regain his spot between Panther's arms. 

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