#edit: ‘tires easy’ I say.. as if he doesn’t definitely just have breathing problems

[truth-01001001-liar]

I haven’t played eso in months… forgot how incredibly not built for battle my vestige is 🙃

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 3

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Hyrule:

- It confusing and full of yearning.

- The Fae Folk are very affectionate in nature. Physical touches and platonic kisses are just normal. Hyrule growing up briefly with them had adopted this habit.

- You are like that as well so you’re the one to take care of Hyrule when he wanted affection. Since other then Legend, it’s awkward to ask the others.

- He finds however while he still asks/gives you affection. He gets more flustered and embarrassed when you initiated contact.

___________________________________

Admittedly Hyrule never had a clear understanding of Hylian social norms. Some things were easy to pick up when he was just traveling by himself. However, there was a lot that conflicted with Fae social norms. While yes, the Fae were more mischievous and could be borderline malicious, they are very affectionate creatures. Which was the one of many things Hyrule picked up when he was being raised by the Great Fairy.

Before you join the chain, he had to hold himself back from being overly affectionate with the group. Yes, when he had chances, he would give a quick side hug or ruffling of the hair for the younger Link’s. But nothing on the level of cuddles or small peaks on the cheek and forehead. You though! You were the one to lay the affection on everyone thick. Most if not every Hero has melted from all the complements and physical affection.

Hyrule was living his best life now with you! Cuddles are a must for the two of you. Especially when one another has been having a rough day. You’ve also gotten the others involved with this newly formed ritual. He just over all feeling comfortable and loved.

Which then leads to Hyrule’s issue. Slowly he began to feel embarrassed with every peak after he heals you. Then his heart begins to race when he is cuddled up resting his head against your chest. Even holding your hands became hard for him to stand! It felt so warm but also made him fearful. He was scared of losing you. Losing this warmth. This comfort. He wanted to keep it but scared that this feeling was to good for him.

“-and that’s what happen so far.” He was visiting the Great Fairy Cotera of Wild’s Era. He had visited her each time they visited Kakariko. Cotera gently hummed messing with his hair. “What should I do?” He looks up to the giantess worriedly. His small sisters surround him ether sitting on top of him or by his side.

Their mother hummed as she thought about his problem. “My dear sweet child.” She started after a long pause “this human… do you feel different compared to your other friends? Or with your siblings in the forest?”

Hyrule thought about it after a while shook his head. “No… I did used to feel embarrassed with the others but it was different. This is more… warm?”

“Warm?” She urges him gently to continue. “Do you hate it?”

“No…” he sounded like a child, fidgeting in his seat “I hate how anxious it makes me now.” You meant a lot to him. Hyrule knew you meant a lot to everyone too, but that normal! You’ve helped them all in some sort of way! Yet he was deep in that unidentifiable emotion towards you. He adores you. All of you. Even during your more impulsive actions he didn’t mind having to heal you. Of course, he would truly rather not heal anyone with his magic. Yet… with you giving his payment in kisses on the cheek or forehead… he can’t stay mad at you.

“Chin up little one.” Cotera lifted up his head “your feelings are valid and has a simple explanation.” Hyrule pouted slightly making her giggle a bit tapping lightly on his nose. “You my dear seem to love your sweet human.”

It was like a lanterned was just lit in a dark cave he was wandering in. Finally revealing a path out. Everything thing slowly explaining itself. “Oh…” was all he could say as he was comprehending it. His sisters were giggling at their brother’s expense causing him to blush. It all made to much sense.

“Roolie! Are you nearby?” He and the Great Fairy both perk up when they heard your voice. He stared up at the Great Fairy expectingly.

“Well?” Cotera nudged him off of the petals of her fountain. “What are you waiting for little one?”

___________________________________

- Well, that was embarrassing and he knows once he starts perusing you. The more his siblings of the forest will start to tease him. Not only that but the chain also catches on pretty quickly.

- He becomes a blushing and stuttering mess around you, not pulling away from your touch but leaning more into him.

- It will be a miracle if he confesses but he will! And he will do it in a more intimate manner though, with or without help.

___________________________________

Four:

- It took long to accept but filled with soft cotton fluff.

- Isn’t canon in the manga that the colors (minus Vio) straight up try to impress a girl they just met?

- Now I’m not saying he is like that now a days, but old habits die hard right. He probably doesn’t even recognize that he still does it.

- Honest to God the resident brain cell is the only one that new point blank what was happening. Having a “not again” moment.

___________________________________

It’s been a while since Four was back in his forage. He missed every second of it. The smithing process was the one hobby each color had in common. As Link they found it relaxing, something to get their mind off of things.

That morning was no different. Traveling on the road was stressful even for a seasoned adventurer. Traveling alone was boring which was the upside according to Red. It relieved them of responsibility Green was used to taking upon himself to carry. Blue was at least a lot calmer with having to be on alert all the time. Vio had pointed out this was mainly because of You.

The chaos came back full force. The same argument has been happening recently, it was about his feelings towards you. Now they all liked you as a friend. Four knew that for a fact. He was only six when he felt your presence and this situation, he was in was as if an imaginary friend became real! At least that’s what Red felt.

No matter if they were unified or separated, Four could trust you to help him out of even the messiest situations. So, what if some of those situations were caused by him trying to impress you? That doesn’t mean anything!

Just because Blue became a stuttering mess when you surprised Four with a flower crown just meant he was taken aback at your kindness! He isn’t good at showing his emotions. Yeah, so what about Green becoming a soft mess when you first showered him in praise and affection. Wouldn’t any person do that from someone that been through hell and back with them? It doesn’t count that Red craves your affection! He is like that with everybody and just because it makes him feel different it doesn’t count. Someone saves Vio from this.

Four was conflicted which is why he was working so early in the morning. They wouldn’t shut up about their own feelings. It was a chaotic mess inside his head as soon as he woke up. A weight on his back clued him back into reality “Good morning!” You while looking down at him smiling still holding on lazily. “How is the most beautiful person here doing?”

Ah. There goes most of composure out the window. Vio was the last one standing with Green and Blue almost hanging on. You loved to tease him and he was never able to get you back. “Don’t know how are you?” Four was really struggling to keep unified and calm. He was shaking because of the other three’s nerves. You stared at him wide eyed.

“Jeez look at you!” You give him a squeeze before finally let go of him “you’ve grown! If only you were that smooth towards Erune.” You teased.

The blush he was so desperately trying to beat down started to flare up this time out embarrassment. “Can we not talk about that?” Four could only cringe when he thought back at that bit in his adventure. Him and Erune have been close friends since then, but the colors were really trying to play the hero in front of the poor girl back then. Their antics truly were really not impressing anyone.

Green was really happy he grew out of it. Seriously it‘s not like Blue really cared about it anyway he was just a kid! Red was just happy that he got a long-term friend out of it! The audacity the others had was killing Vio. They are still just as bad and it seems like no one was listening to reason.

An explosion of emotions and thoughts collided in Four’s skull. Three denying their logical side’s claim all while getting thrown every instant in their faces by the odd one out. “Whatcha making anyway?” You were observing the short knife blade curiosity not seeing the other’s internal debate. Vio felt like he had to spell it out to each of them. Pulling up memories of their actions towards the outlander. Four struggled to focus on what you were saying but it was too loud!

“Woah there.” You turn him away from his project letting it sit safely on a cooler section of the work top. “Breath Link.” You where kneeling down in-front of him holding his hand. He focused on your warmth. The way you rubbed small circles on the back of his hand. On your voice that instructed him to breathe. In for four, hold for seven, let out for eight. Repeat. Slowly the divide melded back together. Soon the voices faded out. “There we go.” You whispered “good job Link.” Four stared back at you still tired from everything but nonetheless happy that your here with him.

Man, he loved you so much.

Wait-

___________________________________

- It was definitely an I told you so moment.

- Four as a whole though is still struggling to come to terms with it, even though he had already admitted his feelings.

- Another case of: drown him in affection until he realized. Not because of him not believing you! It’s just you have four people in a trench coat here! If one is conflicted then four as a whole will feel that subtly.

___________________________________

Bonus (just Headcanons):

Wind (finding out that a Link has a crush on you)

- The little gremlin is going to have a field day! He was thinking about messing around but the other hero is doing his work for him!

- The only one saved from this Black Mail harvest is you. He does have a few things but you mostly let him off the hook when he gets in trouble anyway sooooo…

- Not the best wing man but he honestly isn’t trying. He is just enjoying the journey.

- He might be tempted to help if he was asked but there isn’t much he could do. You are his right hand after all! Why would he let your secrets go so easily?

- Imagine Wind just vibes with you when the other Link is trying their best and you literally ask if the other hero was ok since they are acting weird around you. It would take Wind a minute to get an answer because all he is thinking is: ‘are you dense?’

- Or on the flip side. If you know about their feelings. He would definitely be on board of helping you out. Again, you’re his right hand! Of course, he’ll help you! (Favoritism)

- Wind: “Don't worry. He likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read their diary.” (Y/n): “He thinks it's fancy?”

(Part 1) and (Part 2)

My First Request is now done :D! That was fun. Thank you Pinky and Star for the request <3

[cloudywithachanceofanime]

Brothers React To MC Grabbing Their Butt: Luci, Mammon, Levi

I’ve had to write this 2 times now. If Tumblr deletes this post, I will be fighting someone. 

TW: Drunk character, use of phrase KMS

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Lucifer

You just left your room to go down to the kitchen for some quick snack when you bumped into Lucifer. He gave you a nod which you return with a simple wave.

You were about to continue walking when a something white on the back of Lucifer’s coat. You glanced at it and saw it was a sheet of paper. “Lucifer has a flat ass  -Mammon”.

That was not Mammon’s handwriting. You recognized it as Levi’s since he always left notes in the manga you borrowed. He must be trying to get revenge on him. 

But, will you let your first man get hung up. He did buy you your favorite treat yesterday, even if he denied it. 

Turning around, you tiptoed behind Lucifer while you gained distanced on him. Your hand reached out towards the paper. 

“MC, why are you-”

Why was a slice of Lucifer’s cake in your hand? You froze up as you realized the situation you were in. 

You just groped one of the strongest demons in hell. Dear Diavolo, please make sure my funeral is fun. 

“MC?” You didn’t have the strength in you to look into Lucifer’s face. You weren’t ready to face death. No matter how thick he was.

“MC.” You knew that tone. He was getting angry. You should really let of his cheek, but you so overcome with fear that you can’t move. 

A blink of an eye. That’s all it took for you to have you back against the wall with Lucifer’s arm trapping you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him in thick rolls.

“MC, look at me,” he growled out. Your eyes briefly flickered up before dropping down once you saw that fire in his eye. 

A gloved hand traveled from the base of your neck up to your chin where it gripped it tightly before tilting your head up. You were met with the sight of Lucifer’s smirking with his red eyes slanted in mischievous.

“Looks like someone’s being disobedient. I want you in my room by the time I return to it. You better be ready to be punish.”

With that, he let go of your chin and walked away. The sign balled in your fist seem to go unnoticed by him. 

“Got in trouble for this dang lie,” you growled out, throwing the paper in the wastebin. Even if you tried to act disgruntled about what happen, the butterflies in your stomach on what was about to happen told a completely different story. 

Mammon

It was a complete accident. Mammon was out most of the night drinking and stumbled into your room about 3 am asking you to hide him.

You got out of bed and helped him sit down on it. His clothes were strewed haphazardly on him. Guess someone had a good time. 

“MC, MC, MC, MC,” he whined while kicking his feet around. He was making so much noise that it would be so easy for Lucifer to know he was here. 

“What?” You asked in a quiet voice. He stopped calling your name and instead held his arms out and made grabby motions towards you. 

“You haven’t talked to me in foreverrrrrrrrr.” You literally talked to him at school. He’s the one who’s been gone most of the night. 

You made your way over to stare at him. His brown skin had a heavier red tint underneath it with his bluish yellow eyes glazed over. He really got wasted tonight. 

Mammon lean up a little and wrapped his arms around you. Yanking you down the bed next to him, he cuddled into you. “Wvndoisnvf”

“What?” you asked, leaning away from him. He made a low groan in the base of his throat before pulling you down into him. 

“Warm. You’re warm... but I’m hot... too much clothes,” he slurred. You navigated your head so you could get a view of him. He was staring at the wall behind.Then like a light bulb going off, his eyes widen. “I can- I can teleport to my room. And change... Be right back.”

He unwrapped his arms from around you and started rolling off the bed. The dumb idiot.

Shooting up, you grabbed whatever you could get your hands on. Which was his upper back.... and an entire handful of his butt.

“Mammon, you can’t teleport,” you growled out. You pulled at him to try to get him to get more into the bed. He was literally on the edge of the bed, tilting. If he fell on the floor, it would definitely make enough noise to wake up Lucifer. 

“Mmm, harder,” he grumbled. Remember, MC, he’s drunk He doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

“Mammon, if you don’t get in the bed, I won’t cuddle you,” you threaten. He let out a small whine, but he scooted into the bed. Relief filled you as you released your grip on him. Now, you can go to sleep. 

Mammon’s arms found their way around you and pulled you down again. You didn’t fight against him or the warmth he provided. 

“Wait,” he mumbled. His hand wrapped around yours and pulled at it. You allowed him to move it lower. He placed it on top of his butt and released your hand. 

You were too tired to question him. So you fell asleep with one arm wrapped around him and the other on top of his butt. 

Leviathan

“Hey, Levi, I was wondering if I could-” 

Your words died in your throat as you stared at the scene in front of you. You knew you should’ve knocked, but you didn’t think it was a big deal. Boy were you wrong. 

In the middle of his room, in a pink and white maid costume was Levi. His hands were froze in the midst of pulling up some tight pink stockings. 

“I can- um- Are you busy?”You didn’t know where to look at him. You tried to look at his face, but the pink eyeliner was causing you to stare. His neck was a no go with the bell choker on it. 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” You jumped at the ear piercing screaming coming out of him. His face was the deepest shade of red you have ever seen it get. 

“Levi?” a voice downstairs called out. Followed by the sound of footsteps. 

“Sorry, scared him. Everything’s fine,” you yelled out. Yet the footsteps kept coming. In a fit of panic, you entered the room and shut the door. You were quick to lock the door behind you.

“OMG OMG OMG OMG KMS KMS I’m such a disgusting otaku,” he cried sinking to the floor. His hands covered his face as he started crying. 

“No, Levi, sweetie. You look amazing,” You comforted walking over. He let out a small sniffle, but seem to be slowing on crying. “Is that the limited edition Ruri- chan maid outfit you were telling me about last time?”

His head lifted up with a giant smile on his face. His nose was a little red from crying, but it blended in with the blush on his cheeks. 

“You- you remembered,” he croaked out while wiping the tears. He pulled his legs together and rested his chin on it, allowing you to see his entire beautiful face. “I got it in the mail today. And I was just going to put it on the mannequin and take some pictures. But-”

He trailed off for a little as the blush returned again. He let out a groan. His head dropped in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I forgot to lock the door. You probably think I’m some gross otaku who like to dress up in maid costumes all the time.”

“I mean, you look hot while doing it, so I don’t see a problem with it,” you admitted, glancing at his figure. He was a little muscular, but his shape seem to accentuate the outfit in the best ways. 

“Hey, is everything okay in there?” Lucifer’s voice rang through the door. You glanced at Levi to see his face still red and his pink gloved hand gripping the sides of the costume. 

“I locked the door. Don’t worry, he can’t come in,” you whispered. Trying to comfort him some more, you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“Y-yeah, I’m okay. MC scared me while.. I was playing a game. Sorry for screaming,” Levi mustered out. Lucifer let out a long sigh before his footsteps disappeared. 

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Levi visabily relaxed too. 

“Sorry for bargaining in. I was trying to asking to borrow a new manga,” you explained. Levi let out a cough as he stood up. Your head lifted up as he grew in height. 

“Sorry for showing you this gross side to me,” he grumbled, pulling the bottom of the skirt down. Guess it wasn’t made wit hhis long legs in mind. It showed so much legs. Not that you were complaining. 

“You’re just cosplaying, nothing wrong with it. Plus as I mentioned earlier, you look hot af in the maid outfit. I mean damn,” you growled the last word. A dark red blush exploded over his face as a low whimper slipped out of him. 

“Well, if you like it. Would you mind-um- roleplaying a little.” 

You took a step forward and wrapped your arms his waist. You looked up at him with a innocent smile, but in each hand was a butt cheek. “Serve your master, Levi.”

I apologize for stopping here, but Tumblr just didn’t seem to like this curse post and I’m so tired that I can’t force myself to write the other brothers only to delete it again. I do plan on doing the other 4 brothers.

[kayxleeee]

Bucky Barnes: Anywhere (Bucky x Reader )

Bucky Barnes: Anywhere 

Warning: Kinda sad, but not really. You can handle it lol.  Slight Mental Health nod. Overall just sweet reader caring for Bucky’s wellbeing

A/N: HAPPY FRIDAY !If you are reading this and supporting me I really love you🥺. Loosely edited.

Summary: Like usual, Bucky can’t sleep after a mission. You have a discussion with him about a place Steve told you about. This place has all of the advances that may help Bucky free himself from the emotional prison that is his mind. 

Word Count: 1k+

*NOT MY GIF* Don’t copy my work !

After what felt like the long  night would be internal, it felt incredible to finally wake up laying in a cozy bed. With the covers warm, the birds chirping, and a little bit of the early morning su rays beaming on your face, it felt like a good morning. But even better than that, was knowing the man you loved was laying right beside you, safe and finally at home; Except for the fact that he was not laying in bed beside you. His absents caused you to remember the events of last night, the struggles he had with possibly trying to fall asleep. You let out a heavy sigh feeling the empty space next to you. As excited as you were yesterday to finally be reunited with him, you knew things were complicated for him, and  the night was not as amazing as you hoped. In fact as much as you wanted your homecoming to be perfect everything seemed different, his cries out for help seemed more urgent. 

Only a year and a few months ago did you and Steve find Bucky, which led to the breaking free from the reigns, being a wanted man, and coming to terms with the damages with Hydra’s brainwashing. It was all a lot, and he had still been adjusting, even when you two began to get close. And as much as he’d like you to believe he was okay, you knew he was still adjusting months later. Adjusting to what exactly? You could only assume it was everything, but you mostly knew it was the task of being able to think for himself, being stuck in his own head.

With his thinking, came one track obsessions. Bucky had this overwhelming, and I mean OVERWHELMING, infatuation with taking down hydra and getting justice for what they did to him. You and Steve had many conversations about how unhealthy it had to be for him to constantly be face to face with the people who caused him so much pain. These long missions he’d gone on, probably involved him sitting and waiting to do unimaginable things. This wasn’t the best for him at his fragile state and you all had to remember that; Otherwise you wouldn't be on your toes constantly worried about him and his mental states . 

Prior to waking up to an empty bed, you had spent almost two months without him. Fast forward to last night when he came home, he was extremely tired coming in, but could never fall asleep. It killed you that his first night back in his own home, safe, in his own bed, with you in his arms, was still not as peaceful for him. It was hard to sit with the thoughts of these bounty hunts, only being that, and not being beneficial for him, whatsoever. It had always been hard to get him to open up about the “missions.”, or what he has done or even seen, for that matter. In fact it was damn near impossible, he was so stubborn. His brain was running 24/7, thinking of ways he could feel better about himself, thinking of ways he could redeem himself. And that is what you hated the most, the times where he was stuck in his own head, overthinking, driving himself insane, trying to find a reason to the madness. This hurt you tremendously , because you really hoped it would all eventually be better for him, that this last “mission” would be the problem solver, you prayed it would be, but it just seemed to never get better, there was always another goon who needed to pay him repercussions.

You stretch your arms above your head letting out a sleepy yawn as you throw back the duvet, preparing to find the dark haired man in your cozy Brooklyn apartment. You grab the throw blanket at the end of your bed wrapping it around your shoulders, heading out of the bedroom. Right as you exit out of the door, you see a glimpse of him on the brown couch in your living room. He’s laying on his back staring up at the ceiling. Silence and isolation were never his friends and, all you could do was just hope he was not laying there beating himself up over something that he either had no control of or something he could not change.

“Good morning.” You say softly walking to the end of the couch closest to you, where his feet were. “Missed you in there. Everything alright?” 

He looks over at you and smiles slightly. He looked exhausted, which led you to believe he definitely did not fall asleep.

“Sorry, yeah, everything is okay.” His voice sounded tired and raspy. “I guess it wasn’t a good night.”

He wasn’t always restless, battered, and bruised, and your relationship was not always based on saving him from himself, but it was always hard knowing what you were doing for him wasn’t enough. That the simple kisses you shared on days were he was upset, or on the long nights where you’d rub his back reassuring him that he was so much more than this unspoken pain, weren’t enough.

“Can I do anything to help?” You ask, coming closer to his spot on the couch.

“No,” He pauses for a second reaching out for your hand. “I’d like you to just come cuddle with me though.” He says opening his arms. You smile and walk over to where he was on the couch. 

“I don’t mind keeping you company.” You say with a smile as you climb on top of him, settling in and getting comfortable.

He immediately wraps his arms around you pulling you into a warm embrace. Your head is tucked underneath his chin, his slow breaths matching your own. The two of you have your fingers intertwined as his metal hand rests on the small of your back over the blanket you had brought with you. You lay there in silence, just feeling the rises and falls of each others chest. But then the silence worried you since that meant his mind could possibly be somewhere else.

“Bucky?” 

“Mmh?”

“If you could be anywhere in the world, where would you be?” You ask randomly, wanting to fill the silence with anything.

“Right here.” He says softly rubbing your back. “Right here with you.”

You smile at his sweet words, but just couldn’t believe them, not because he has ever lied to you, but simply because there was always a hunt, there was always a mission, there was always a reason to be anywhere, but at home...

“Out of all the places you could be, just here would be okay?”

He pauses for a minute then nods. “Not just here, anywhere with you is alright with me. I’d always choose that over anything in the whole world.”

“If I asked you to leave with me tonight would you go?” “Yes.”

“Even to get away, —stop doing these hunts…” 

He doesn’t say anything, so you continue.

“To get away from whatever it is that’s hurting you.”

“Yes of course, in a heart beat.” He finally says, kissing the top of your head. 

Silence falls over both of you as you cuddle on the couch in your small apartment. You think for a second remembering a conversation that you had with Steve a few days ago. 

“Then let’s go somewhere, just you and me.” You speak again, testing the theory. “Steve said he knew a safe place, a place called Wakanda.” You begin to play with his fleshed fingers.

“Wakanda?” He repeated back.

“Yes, a place where you can just step away from all the madness of bringing down Hydra, just for a little bit, to get your headspace together.” 

You begin to explain how you hated to see him in these different states every time he came home from a mission and how it’s is all consuming in both of your lives. He nods at your words and sighs.

“Like I said, I’d go anywhere… as long as you’re there too.” He lets out a yawn and you nod in contentment.

Those words now put you at ease. You bring his hand to your mouth giving it a kiss, before saying, “Alright then Buck, it’s time for you to finally get some rest.” You encourage beginning to get up.

“Can we just lay here until I do?” He asked as he realized you were about to leave him, his grip tightened softly around you.

“Of course.” You say settling back into his arms.

“I know it hasn’t been easy, but I am trying, and I am willing to try anything.” He says softly.

Moments later you could hear his soft snores pick up as he finally drifted off to sleep. You hoped it was peaceful as you began drifting off too, imagining what Wakanda was like and how life changing it could possibly be for him.

-

Comments, Questions, Opinions :)

See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist

[anxious2dsimp]

Everything He’s Not | Iwaizumi x GN! Reader | Short Fic

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Flavour: Angst (Reader x Cheater!Oikawa) to Fluff (Reader x Iwaizumi)💔→☁️

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Short Fic (alternating between two sides of the story, y/n and Iwa’s)

Part: 2 out of 2 (read part 1 here)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N, has dated the very popular Oikawa Toru for a while, through him becoming friends with his group. However, little do they know about a certain stoic ace’s feelings for his best friend’s s/o. When Oikawa screws up big time, will Iwaizumi’s true feelings finally show? And what will Y/N do when everything goes down?

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, breakups, basically Oikawa x Reader angst turned into Iwaizumi x Reader fluff.

A/N: I am so late with this I'm so sorry, college has been whooping my butt!! But, it was nice to take a break and edit this. I love this story sm I hope you enjoy the finale! :D

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“I’d love that,” they replied, a genuine smile appearing on their lips as they played with the sleeve of their shirt. I nodded and immediately went to get everything from the kitchen, setting up the movie in the living room and calling (y/n) over, handing them a blanket as they sat down on the couch. I stood there without knowing what to do before they looked at me and patted the spot next to them, moving the blanket so I could sit. Without thinking about it twice I sat down beside them; I was crazy for them, more than I cared to admit, so it was enough to see their eyes sparkle happily at me to get me to do whatever they wanted. We watched the movie and ate our ice cream without mentioning Oikawa again, I turned off my phone knowing he would probably call me like he always did, and (y/n) blocked his number so halfway through the movie the bad had faded away and it was just us having fun. However, they must have gotten tired from the crying and running because they fell asleep midway, their head ending up resting on my shoulder.

I was glad they were asleep so they wouldn’t be able to see me smiling like an idiot, I was surprised enough to see they still liked hanging out with me despite what my best friend did and didn’t want to give them a reason to think we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I figured they could use the rest, so I lowered the volume of the tv and leaned my head on theirs, enjoying their company and relaxing to the point I nodded off as well. What felt like a second later I opened my eyes to the sound of (y/n)’s phone ringing and was greeted by an unfamiliar sensation. Somehow in our sleep we had ended up cuddling, their head resting on my chest and my arms around them. It was too late to get out of it now though, they had woken up and probably realized the same thing from the way they were blushing while picking up the phone. They apologized to their transfer mom and told them they’d go home right away, and once I looked at the tv screen for the first time since waking up I realized it must be quite late since the movie was over.

“Uh, I should get going,” they said while standing up and fixing their clothes, their face still shinning with a hint of red, “thank you for everything though, really. I would still be a mess if it weren’t for you.” It was my turn to feel flustered as I nervously rubbed my neck before replying, “no problem, I’m glad I could be of service.” They giggled and my heart fluttered as I stood up, grabbing my coat from the hanger by the door, earning a confused glance from (y/n). “What? Did you really think I was going to let you go home by yourself at this hour?” I explained as they smiled and picked up their backpack, walking over to the door and following me outside.

The trip back to their house was about twenty minutes, the first ten by bus and the second ten walking, so although it was easy for us to stay quiet on the bus without being awkward thanks to the noisy engine, that was no longer the case once it was just us walking through empty, moonlit suburban streets. I didn’t know what to say, and I could tell (y/n) was feeling the same way. “I hope that what happened with Oikawa doesn’t ruin our friendship,” (y/n) said, their eyes lost somewhere among the stars.

Your POV

You held your breath as you waited for the boy’s response; you meant it, you loved hanging out with them, but now that Oikawa and you were clearly over you were afraid things would change for the worst. You cared for all of them, especially for Iwaizumi, and didn’t want his friend screwing up to be the end of that as well. “Right, friendship,” he mumbled, his voice disappointed, causing you to look at him to try and figure out what that was about to which the boy shook his head slightly and quickly added louder, “why would it ruin it?”

“I don’t know, I care about you Iwaizumi, regardless of what happened with Oikawa, so I know I’d miss you if we stopped hanging out,” you confessed, blushing at the sight of his cheered up smile. ‘What was up with me? I just broke up with his best friend, and yes, I always found Iwaizumi to be attractive physically and personality-wise, but he was so different from Toru I never thought anything would happen between us, why would someone like him like me?’ you thought to yourself as you mentally kicked your racing thoughts. “Nah, don’t be stupid, I care about you, and I bet the others two do too, so there’s no way in hell you’re getting rid of us,” he joked, making you chuckle, he had always been great at making you feel better. “Except for Shittykawa, I already got rid of him,” you said crossing my arms and huffing comically, trying to lighten the mood, as he smiled and nodded in return.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he chuckled and looked down at his feet falling silent before quietly adding, “you know you deserve someone better than him, right?” It was a weird question, after all at first it seemed like Oikawa was the best there was, everyone was after him. You sighed and then replied unconvincingly, “do I? I mean, I know I don’t want someone who cheats on me and in hindsight isn’t as self-obsessed, but according to everyone, he’s all that so,” now you were the one who fell silent, looking to the side to see Iwa frowning. “Oh, trust me, there are better people than Oikawa. I’ll be honest, I’ve always thought of his fangirls as stupid for being blinded by the spotlight, but it kind of serves them right. With you though, you weren’t blinded by anything and instead chose to see the good in him, you’re special. So since you don’t really care about the sparkle, I just think you need someone who… who’s everything he’s not.” You stuffed my hands into your hoodie’s pocket and sighed, thinking about what he said you realized that he was right.

“Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense,” you smiled at the boy, making him do a double-take as his eyes went slightly wide. “It does?” he asked, rubbing his neck and looking away as he moved closer beside you to let a car pass by, now that you two were walking closer to each other you could definitely tell he was blushing. What was this all about? Maybe he liked you, but the question that was making your mind race was, did you like him? After all, he was everything Oikawa was not, careful, quiet, in the shadows instead of the spotlight, but with a huge heart once you got to know him. “Yup, but it kinda sounds like I should look for someone like you after what you described,” you said, biting your lip out of the nerves, were you really risking everything because of a hunch? Instead of replying immediately, Iwaizumi stopped in his tracks, looking at the floor and kicking the ground. You stopped and turned to face him, walking up to him and trying to meet his gaze with your eyes.

“I feel awful,” he said, his face as redder than you had ever seen it, your heart feeling more crushed than before; of course, you’re wrong, he’s Oikawa’s best friend, why would he jeopardize that or catch feelings for his best friend’s ex? “I- I’m sorry just forget what I said, I should hurry home,” you spun around, ready to start jogging again when you felt his hand grab my wrist gently but firmly before mumbling, “no, wait!” turning you around to face him. “It’s not that. I feel awful because, although Oikawa’s my best friend, ever since I saw you two together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that you should be with me instead. Yeah, I’m everything he’s not, so that’s why I thought I should just forget it, because I never thought you’d be into that, especially after being with Toru. So, before you go, I just… I had to say that, if you were with me, I promise I’d treat you like you deserve.”

“Do you… do you really mean all that?” you asked, your face pretty much burning off as you looked into the brunette’s eyes, only then realizing he was still holding onto you but was now holding your hand. “Yeah, I mean,” he looked away, not letting go, “you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re so smart, chill, funny, kind, and beyond beautiful, and I was dying inside whenever I saw Oikawa kiss you because I wanted to be him so bad but I-”

You squeezed Iwa’s hand, taking a step forward almost involuntarily as he did the same, his face still showing the concern that had appeared as he rambled but now only inches apart from yours. “I know this may be weird, but I like you too. I just never realized how much until all of this went down and suddenly, I wasn’t absorbed by keeping Oikawa happy and I finally saw you, still there,” you replied, smiling at the spiker whose worry melted away into a sweet smile, the kind that you had only seen momentarily before, in moments where it was just the two of you and you forgot about everything else. He took a deep breath, letting go of your hand and opting to rest his against your cheek instead before whispering; “I’m crazy for you, loser.” You both laughed softly, and at that moment it felt as though you were the only two people in the world, surrounded by nothing other than the night sky and silent streets.

“I figured as much,” you joked in return, Iwa rolling his eyes in response before dipping his head down and making his lips meet yours. For a second you were taken aback, but unlike what you expected, it didn’t feel wrong, on the contrary, it felt like it was the right thing all along. So, you let your arms snake around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you in deeper. The trance was broken by your phone ringing, making you two break apart only to see the spiker smiling like crazy. “Wow,” you whispered, still in awe of everything that had happened and how it had all gone down. Staying in each other’s embrace, you picked up the phone and told your transfer mom you were only a street away and ended the call, looking up at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi’s POV

“I’ll call you later?” I asked, happier than I have ever been, as I held (y/n) in my arms, lost looking at the way their eyes sparkled as they looked at me. It felt even better than I had imagined all those times; seeing them look at me like I thought they never would. “Sounds good,” they said, standing on their tiptoes and kissing me again before we let go of each other and walked down the remaining street to their place hand in hand. “Bye,” they beamed at me after I stopped them for one last kiss before (y/n) walked up to their front door, me watching them walk away still smiling like an idiot. Once they were inside I started walking back to the bus station, checking my phone for the first time since (y/n) showed up to see 27 missed calls from Oikawa as I took it off of silent mode. Only a few minutes later my phone rang again, and despite how angry I was, I knew I had to pick up.

“I fucked up with (y/l/n),” the usually upbeat boy said the second I picked up, I could tell he had been crying, but I didn’t feel as bad as I should have for my best friend, he deserved it. “I know,” I replied, my voice unintentionally colder than I expected, “I talked to them.” The other side of the call fell silent, I wouldn’t let him guilt trip me after how he treated them. “How are they?” Oikawa asked genuinely. “Getting over it, but you should know what you did was fucking horrible, Shittykawa,” I said, making a mindful attempt to sound less harsh, we were friends after all. “I know, and I feel terrible, but I also know (y/n), so there’s no way to undo this,” he said seriously, it wasn’t often that I heard him like this, “and I don’t know if I want to either, the odds of me screwing up again are too high and I don’t want to hurt them.”

“So you’re saying they deserve better than you?” I guessed, knowing that’s probably what he meant without realizing. Toru just sighed, falling silent for a second before stating, “You know me too well. See ya at practice tomorrow Iwa-chan.” I said bye and hung up right as I got on the bus, taking a seat by the window and looking out towards the quiet streets, letting my mind wander. I was feeling too many things at once, there was too much going on and still so much to figure out, but it didn’t matter; I closed my eyes and remembered the kiss, the way (y/n) looked at me that made me feel like the luckiest person alive. Nothing else mattered, because I had them.

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tags: @bakugouswh0r3

[bnhablessings]

First Kiss Scenarios

This is completely self-indulgent as I am being a cry baby today. Now I just need a pick-me-up so I created this mess. Enjoy :’)

Dabi, Hawks, and Shigaraki X (Gender-Neutral/Non-Binary) Reader

I was going to do Twice but I didn’t like how his came out so : (

Warnings: Kisssssssssing, fluff, soft hours are activated guys. Smooches are exchanged. The reader is the same age as whoever they kiss, I’m too tired to be writing so probably grammar issues.

Words: 2,003

Dabi-

“It is nice seeing you again but are you going to disappear on me again for weeks?” You mumble stirring your beverage with your finger.

The man you are talking to says nothing as he watches you with a small frown. He’s noticed you’ve been on edge ever since you met him again for a third date. He surprised himself for even going on a third date with you but you somehow manage to take his breath away.

You’re not surprised that he doesn’t answer you. He’s been oddly quiet the majority of the date. Nothing like the first and second time where he was constantly flirting with dirty pick-up lines. Instead, he’s just been observing you. You don’t mind it since you can feel if he has bad intentions or not and he doesn’t.

You finally take your eyes off your beverage and look up to meet his. You feel even tenser from staring into them. The only reason why you are so uptight right now or trying to hide that is because you genuinely like him. He definitely knows.

Finally, something of his normal behavior happens. His lips form a devilish smirk and you look away from feeling your cheeks heat up. Despite his normal behavior returning, when he speaks it sounds more like he is sad and hopeful about something.

“I wouldn’t have to disappear on you for weeks if you said yes to my offer.”

That ruined the whole mood. You stand up feeling your eyes begin to mist. He is quick to stand up too, not knowing why you reacted that way and so suddenly.

“Is that the only reason why you have been asking me out? To say yes to joining your league? I fucking knew I was being too hopeful for you,” You mumble hurrying to gather your hoodie.

You ignore his nicknames for you as he begs you to wait for a moment. As soon as you are out of the diner’s door he is quick to latch onto your wrist. You give him the benefit of a doubt since your quirk is still telling you that he means no ill intent.

Dabi keeps his grip gentle as he finally speaks out some answers. “I have obviously been asking you out because I see you more than a potential member. I would like to see you more frequently and you joining would not only help that out but it would benefit my comrades. I already told you that part. Now, will you calm your ass down, Babe?”

You give him a nod and he smiles. You start to ramble. “Sorry. I know this is new territory for both of us. I just really like you and I hate the being vulnerable part… Which I am doing now I realize oh my god. Are you sure this isn’t some ploy because I can get rather annoyin-��

Dabi shuts you up with a pretty demanding kiss. His lips were not in the slightest gentle as he mushed them up with yours, his tongue darting past your own lips to explore with ambition. The warmth of his tongue leaves butterflies in your stomach. It was fast, hard, and straight-forward. He easily pulls back making that stupid smirk.

“I would apologize but I had no idea how else to shut you up about talking down to yourself.”

Despite his bad-boy attitude, you can see the tenderness in his eyes. You quickly decide on something that will change your life before you know it.

“Yes. I want to say yes to the offer.”

He offers his hand and you take it. “Great. Let’s get you home then babe. Meet the whole fucked up crew.”

Hawks (Takami Keigo)-

You don’t know how much your fragile heart can take it anymore. With his careless flirting and gentle touches, you allow him to give you. These past couple days have been so blissful for you since Hawks has been giving his undivided attention to you. It hurts only because you are just friends. You don’t want to ruin his reputation and it stings so much.

Another flirtatious joke leaves his lips and his eyes narrow down at your lack of reaction. He speaks up in a plea.

“Love of my life, would you please-“

You are quick to cut off your friend. “Hawks, you need to come up with a better nickname. What are you going to do when you finally meet someone you like and suddenly call me up like that?”

His stupid smile and golden eyes show the amusement he is feeling. He waits to make sure you don’t say anything else and when he is sure he smiles even wider. “That would suck. I don’t how to change your contact name on my phone.”

“No way. It is not that. For the love- We’re changing it right now,” You say. You put your hand out and wait for him to give you his phone. He does without a hitch. However, it’s locked.

You take a deep breath through your nose and release it out of your mouth to calm yourself down. You can hear the fool laugh at you. This is what you get for being his friend for a few years now. To be fair, he is great company, just not when you are stressed with life. Which whenever you are, he makes it his goal to make you happy and unstressed. It is only worse since you are stressed out because of him.

“What is the password?” You question your voice showing how irritated you are.

He only gives you his signature lazy smile and says, “Guess. You have three tries before you lock me out for a few minutes.”

You roll your eyes and huff at him. You, of course, try the easy thing first, his birthday. He only gives you an innocent look as the phone vibrates from being wrong. Next, you try something this dumb bird would totally do. 1234. It buzzes again. You sigh loudly at the fact you only have one try left.

“Please for the love- I will freaking buy you chicken wings or chicken nuggets if you tell me,” You say resorting to a bribe.

His eyes practically twinkle at the bribe. “It is your birthday.”

That makes you slightly confused. Why would he use your birthday? You type it in and it unlocks. However, what you see next makes you almost cry. It’s a picture of you and him as his home screen. However, he has a messaged edited on it.

Will you be my significant other?

You laugh before you ask, “Hawks were you just going to wait for a moment I asked for your phone to show me this?”

You look at him and he’s already looking away. A small blush can be spotted on his cheeks as he chooses to answer in a silly way. “I mean… I already waited for four days. Turns out the fifth day is the lucky day.”

Feeling the slightly insecure feeling you always get when hanging out with him, you decide to ask the question that will tell you your answer. “You don’t care if others find out I’m your significant other? A nobody? That could ruin your rep-“

“Shut up,” Hawks says trying to keep his cool. He takes a breather before continuing. “You know me, Babe. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like you and I want you in my life permanently… So what do you say?”

You don’t say anything. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a sweet peck. You pull back slightly to see his eyes are wide and his smile is completely gone from the sweet smile you gave him. When he recovers he pecks your lips once more before the smile returns.

“Fulfill your promise. Let’s go on a date and get chicken.”

Shigaraki Tomura-

“Is there something on my face?” You ask without looking at your boss.

His stare remains on you as you place his handheld console. He’s been oddly quiet since you asked to play it but it isn’t that unusual. What is unusual is how he hasn’t moved to look over your shoulder for the game. Instead, he remains seated in front of you and has been watching your face intently.

It would normally creep you out but you actually enjoy the attention he’s giving you. It’s been a while since he last hinted that he wants to pursue your route as if you were in an otome game. Kurogiri watches with interest as well since it is odd for Shigaraki to be like this.

You take a few minutes to keep playing before you lose your last life and shut down the console. Shigaraki stares at you with slight irritation now as you hand it back to him. “Mhm… Boss do you know that staring is considered rude? Now that I mind it but you haven’t said a word in the past twenty minutes,” You murmur.

He finally speaks and what he says startles you for a second. “I want to kiss you. Kurogiri leave.”

Wait what? Before you can look at your escape route he leaves in a split second. You’ll yell at him later. For now, you got to deal with your awkward boss.

“This is going to be weird and I totally don’t blame you if you decide to kill me, but Shigaraki I don’t think that is a good idea,” You state your heart acting like it is going to break out of your chest.

His eyes narrow down and immediately his hand goes to scratch his neck. “And why not?”

You sigh and grab his hand being slow and gentle as to not further anger him. “Because I really like you. It isn’t exactly fair to me if you want to experiment and not put my feelings into consideration.”

Your explanation makes him narrow his eyes down further at you. “I don’t see the problem then dumbass. I do like you,” He states.

You stare at him with wide eyes and feel your heartbeat accelerate. He glares at you when you don’t say anything right when you see him about to snap you quicky speak.

“Well then, by all means, kiss me then.”

Shigaraki looks a bit awkward as he tries to figure out how to actually do this in real life (compared to his games). He decides to just go for it. The hand you aren’t holding comes up and he uses his index finger and thumb to grab onto your cheeks and tilt your head to the angle he desires.

He closes his eyes and presses his chapped lips awkwardly to yours in an awkward peck that lingers. He hesitates before trying to move his lips against yours. You hold back on giggling as you let him just experiment. A few seconds later you let go of his hand to cup his cheek. You finally move your lips against his and keep it in a light feathery-like touch.

With your mouths moving together, Shigaraki gains some confidence and prods the tip of his tongue towards your lips. You pull back immediately feeling your cheeks become increasingly hot from the small exchange.

“Patience Shigaraki. We don’t want to rush this. Think of it as a game. Practice makes perfect so we have time to do this later,” You say giving him a smile.

He grumbles but nods his head. “Call me Tomura or Boss from now on.”

“That was romantic until the last part Boss.”

You are confused since that didn’t come from you. Both of you immediately turn to face the door and see that Toga, Dabi, Twice, and Spinner are there staring at you all with different mixed expressions about what they had just witnessed.

“Moments ruined out here. Let’s go practice in my room,” Shigaraki orders while taking your hand in his and leading you away from the now laughing group.

[s0seo]

The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: OT7 x Reader                  WC: 3755

Rating: M                                        

Genre: Vampire au with lots of angst and eventual fluff and smut

Summary: After you and your friend are attacked during a night out, you discover a world much bigger and more dangerous than you could have ever imagined.

WARNINGS: 18+, Lots of blood, swearing, assault, death of Minor character

A/n:  I really want to thank @noonaduck​ @autumns-sweaters​ @solitudiante​ for beta reading this and helping me get this where it needed to be. I hope you all enjoy!

© s0seo please do not copy or edit as protested under this license :)

You see the seconds on the clock counting down, your heart pounding in your chest. 

5, 4, 3, your favorite team is only two points down and is trying to beat the buzzer. 

The player throws the ball past half court and into the hands of his teammate who turns to throw from the three-point line. As he shoots the ball you feel time slow down and you hold your breath.

2, 1 you see the ball flying, barely hitting the rim of the basket before falling through the net just as the buzzer sounds. The stadium erupts in cheers and you smile. You knew bringing him to this game was a good idea. Looking to your friend standing next to you, you can tell by his gummy smile that he feels the same. Still facing him, you glance again at the scoreboard.

 “What did I say Yoongs? Never bet against Daegu.” He rolls his eyes and retorts, “I wasn’t doubting. I just said they were cutting it close.”  

You stay in your seats for a few minutes while you wait for the stadium to clear out a bit. Deciding now would be the perfect time to order your Uber, you put in your order and see a few different messages from your other friends. Leaning back in your seat, you gesture to Yoongi to wait a moment while you respond to each one.

The first one you see is from Namjoon.

Namjoon: How’s the game going? Are you guys having fun?

Y/N: Sorry, I didn’t hear my phone go off. Yeah, the game was great! It was super loud though, but I think Yoongi enjoyed it too.

Next you see a few messages from Jin.

Jin: Hey text me when the game is over and we can probably meet up for drinks

Jin: Scratch that I went ahead and picked up a shift for tomorrow morning and you know I need my beauty sleep. Maybe next time!

Y/N: No worries! Just let me know when you’re free and we can hang out.

You see that you have a message from Jungkook as well

Jungkook: Hey me and the others were thinking about heading to my dad’s club next weekend, you in?

Y/N: I’m alright. Honestly, I’m not a big fan of clubs.

Y/N: Thanks for the invite though. Maybe we can do something else.

You’re beginning to wonder why they don't just message you through the group chat when you see a new notification. 

Hobi: I need your help applying for some of these scholarships for next semester. I have to write a few letters and you know how bad my writing is.

Hobi: Please???

Y/N: Don’t worry about it. You free next week? How many letters do you need?

Finally, you see one last unanswered message.

Jimin: Tae and I were thinking about going to the beach tomorrow, wanna join us? Ask Yoongi too!

You look over at Yoongi and catch him browsing his phone as well, already knowing what his answer is going to be.

Y/N: Definitely! I don’t think Yoongs will come though. You know he doesn’t really like being outside.

Y/N: I think he’s supposed to visit his parents next week so let’s try to go then instead?

Y/N: Would you be willing to wait for me?

 Rising out of your seat, you place your phone in your pocket and say to Yoongi as you stretch,

“I think the crowd has died down enough.”

He nods to you in response as he lets out a small yawn, and you can tell he’s getting tired. 

“C’mon let's head out,” you say as you start your climb up the stairs towards the exit.  You look back and continue with the suggestion, “let’s grab a few drinks to celebrate and head home. After all, it’s not every day my best friend turns 25.”

You are only met with a grunt which you consider translates to “that’s a great idea,” and finish your climb in silence,

As you reach the top of the stairs, you see that even the thinned crowd is still a giant mass of people. 

‘So much for an easy exit,’ you think to yourself as you turn to Yoongi and see from his face that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

You realize that when you had the idea to take him to his first professional basketball game to celebrate his birthday, you didn’t take into consideration how crowded it was going to be when the game was over. Taking his hand, you lean close to him.

 “Stay close. I’m gonna try and make a path for us.”

You then pull him along and start forcing your way through the crowd. When both of you finally make it out of the building, you lean against the wall, close your eyes, and breathe, thankful for the fresh air filling your lungs. From the sound to your left you can tell that Yoongi is doing the same.

You both really hate crowds, and you realize that this was probably the largest amount of people you two have been around in years. You pull out your phone to see how far away your Uber is, thankful that the app only says five minutes. ‘Good,’ you think to yourself, ‘I knew it was a good idea to wait until the stadium cleared a bit. This traffic is terrible.’ You look over to Yoongi and ask, “so, how do you feel? Did you have fun tonight?” 

You knew when you bought the tickets that he wasn’t a fan of large crowds or loud noises, neither of you were, but you hope that he at least had fun seeing his favorite team in real life tonight. He looks away for a moment, forming his response. 

“I really liked it. I’ve always wanted to come to one of these. Growing up you know my family never really had money, and basketball was sort of my way of escaping my reality. Even though I wasn’t the tallest or the fastest, playing gave me a sense of control that I wished I had over other parts of my life, so thank you.” 

You understand, remembering how much his family was struggling financially when you became friends.  How he struggled with his parents and his dreams of playing basketball and becoming a music producer. You lean into him and say, “I’m happy that I could make your birthday a good one.”

You look away, garnering your courage to admit what you have been wanting to say all night.  “Honestly, I was a little worried about the noise and the crowd, but I’m glad we could do something together. It’s been a while since we spent some time together without all the others, you know.”

He smiles to himself, knowing just how you feel. He thinks for a moment about just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life, someone who he doesn’t have to explain himself to  and understands his way of thinking even better than he does sometimes. He quietly whispers under his breath too low for you to hear, “this is the best birthday I could’ve hoped for,” and looks away to the cars still exiting the parking lot. You both stand there in silence for a while, leaning on each other, lost in your own thoughts while waiting for the Uber to arrive.

You reflect on how far your relationship has come. Growing up together you both continuously saw each other grow into the people you were today. You remember how excited he was when he made the basketball team and the pride he developed for his position as shooting guard. He remembered how proud you were when you became the top student in your class and how your classmates referred to the both of you as “the dream team” dominating sports and academics.

He was good at every sport he set his mind to, basketball, soccer, and tennis. You worked hard to be at the top of your class while also being captain of your school’s debate team, math team and foreign language program.

You let out a sigh as you think about your other friends. You knew they wanted to join you tonight, but you could only manage to grab two tickets before the others sold out. You were lucky you even got these. You glance over at your friend, and you’re pretty sure his level of disappointment at it only being the two of you isn’t that high.

You and Yoongi first met them your junior year of high school after one of the other school districts was forced to shut down its campus due to a lack of funding, and yours was forced to merge with it.

Along with over 150 other students who would now compete with you and your best friend, came six others who would later become the people who knew you better than your own family. Jimin, Namjoon, Jin, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Hoseok were all strangers you both found yourselves competing against constantly.

Yoongi often found himself competing with Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin for captain positions, and you found yourself having to fight tooth and nail to beat Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook as well for the top spots in your clubs. The only two you didn’t have a problem with were Taehyung and Hoseok. That was until Yoongi decided to try out for the dance team and you developed an interest in photography. 

Stuck together for hours and hours, you soon realized that although you were all different people you all actually had a lot in common besides your clubs.

You were all passionate about your dreams of success and you all agreed to help each other succeed any way you could. You came to a compromise that allowed everyone to succeed while always pushing each other to do their best.

His friendship with the others wasn’t as close as yours was. Even though you were all like a family to each other, you couldn’t help but feel like each of them grew closer to you than they had each other.

You shrug to yourself, not really feeling up to analyzing your friendships tonight, but looking over at Yoongi, you know he’s already thinking of how to tell the others how much he enjoyed tonight without making it seem like he had fun without them, and you wish that he felt like he could be more honest with how he feels sometimes.

 Your phone vibrates in your pocket pulling you out of your thoughts, and you see that your ride has finally arrived. “Come on,” you say to Yoongi, grabbing his attention with a nudge of your shoulder. 

“Let’s get something to drink then call it a night.”  

Deciding to head to your regular bar, you and Yoongi order your drinks and take a seat in your regular booth towards the back.

After drinking your way through a4 bottles of soju, you think it is about time for the both of you to head out.  You order another Uber and head to the bathroom, telling Yoongi to just wait for you outside.

Making your way out of the bar your head begins to spin and you chide yourself for not grabbing food before coming. You stumble outside and look around, not spotting Yoongi anywhere.

You could’ve sworn you saw him come out here before you went to the bathroom. You pull out your phone and text him.

Y/N: where are you

Seeing no response, you check the arrival time of your Uber and see it’s still a few minutes away.

You pull up Yoongi’s number and call him. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you curse as you dial his number again. This time even though you don’t get an answer you hear his phone ringing nearby. Searching for the source of the sound, you turn the corner and see his lit-up phone ringing on the ground in the alleyway.

It’s hard to see given that the only light is coming from a dimly lit bulb above the door on the side of the building, but it’s only a few feet away.

You look around and call out for him, already feeling yourself beginning to sober up as your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“Yoongi? Are you out here? Are you okay?”  You take a deep breath and begin walking into the alley, becoming very aware of how quiet it has gotten.

Seeing nothing but a dumpster, some empty bottles, and some trash bags you reach down for his phone and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but you can see that it still works.

You glance around once more and realize how sketchy this feels.

Deciding to turn back you think to yourself ‘he probably just dropped his phone out here before going back inside or something.’

Your thoughts are interrupted however when you hear a bang against the dumpster. You turn around, and you hear it again though this time it’s quieter. You turn on your phone’s flashlight and quietly walk towards the dumpster, ready to run away if you need to.  As you get closer you hear what sounds like a person moaning.

You dim your flashlight, turn the corner of the dumpster, and you freeze. What you see makes you want to scream.

Yoongi is lying on the ground against the wall covered in blood. He is being pinned down by a man dressed in black. Yoongi’s eyes slowly blink at you.

‘You have to help him! You have to help him’ your thoughts scream at you. You have to be smart though, you realize. Judging by his form, you can already tell that he is much bigger than you.

You look around for something, anything that you could use to save your friend. The man hasn’t seemed to notice you yet, but you know Yoongi can’t last much longer, not with the amount of blood he’s lost.

Deciding that your best option is to hit the man off of Yoongi, you quietly reach down for the biggest bottle you can find, and sneak up behind him before bringing it down on his head as hard as you can.

You see him lean forward, startled and injured by the unexpected attack, and you hit him again, this time reaching forward and pulling him off of your friend.

He seems to be knocked out.

You crouch down in front of Yoongi and look around for help. Out of the corner of your eye you see a person walking near the road at the end of the alley. 

“Hey! Call an ambulance! Call the police, hurry!” you yell out to them and see them quickly run back towards the entrance of the bar. 

You breathe a sigh of relief before looking back at your friend to inspect his wounds. You can already tell that he has two large gashes: one on his right side and one on his shoulder near his neck, and so much blood.

You can see his short breaths fogging up the cold night.

Reaching for his face, you whisper to him, already feeling your tears beginning to fall.

“Yoongs, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Receiving no response, you say again, “Yoongs? Yoongi, can you hear me?”

You look at his wounds again and place your hands on them, hoping to stop any further bleeding until the ambulance arrives.

Suddenly you feel your entire body jerked backwards. You hear a crack as your body forcefully slams into the brick wall of the building. Feeling your breath leave your lungs, you gasp for air. Tasting copper on your tongue, you realize that your nose has started to bleed and reach up to touch the back of your head with your fingertips, only to realize that you’re bleeding from there as well.

You look up and see the blurry shape of the man glaring down at you.

His face looks angry and he is bleeding along the side right where you hit him earlier. “YOU!” he seethes in recognition as he brings his face near yours, already looking forward to repaying you for the wound on his head and growls at you. “They said to bring you in in one piece, but I don’t think a few scrapes would hurt.”

None of what he’s saying is making any sense to you right now.

‘Who is this man,’ you wonder.  ‘Why does he seem to know you?’

Desperately glancing behind him at Yoongi you feel more tears fall.  You realize that he’s losing too much blood. He probably won’t make it out of this; neither of you will.

You look at the man as he brings his hand to your throat, and you reach your arms out searching for anything that could help you. You feel your fingers graze the broken neck of a bottle as your vision starts to fade, and you know what you have to do.

Placing your free hand on his arm, you choke out “why are you doing this?”

Your nails are digging deep enough to draw blood now. “Because,” he says lifting you up by the throat as he brings his face close to yours once again, “you ruined everything. More importantly, you pissed me off.”

He looks you in the eyes and you see him pause before licking his bottom lip and bringing his face towards the left side of your head. You can faintly hear sirens in the distance.

Realizing that now is your chance, you bring your right hand upwards sharply and stab him in the neck with the bottle. You twist it in deeper, feeling his blood cover your hand and spray across your face. You hear him let out a scream as he staggers away from you and pulls the bottle out of his neck. 

You see blood pouring out of his wound as he rushes forward and slams you against the wall for a second time.

You feel a sharp pain in your right side before you see him stagger away towards the end of the alley. You slide down the wall, your breathing shallow, and your hand trembles as it makes its way to your side.

Bringing your fingers up to your face, you can see that they are covered in blood. 

You see that his blood has soaked into your shirt, and you weakly drag yourself over to Yoongi’s now barely conscious body, your tears falling slowly.

You notice the bleeding from the wound on his side has slowed down immensely, and you understand that it’s because he’s running out of blood to lose. 

You whisper out to him, your vocal cords crying out in pain from the man’s grip,

“Yoongi? Please look at me... Yoongi!” You reach out and check his pulse, choking out a sob as you realize it’s too weak to feel. 

You move one trembling hand and press it against your still bleeding side while your other hand makes its way to the wound on his neck.

After what feels like hours you finally see the flashing lights of the ambulance. You move your hand from your side to cup Yoongi’s face and see his eyes fall to your face as he looks into your eyes and blinks slowly.

” Yoongi”, you whisper as you feel yourself begin to black out, “please be okay,” you barely manage your last word before your eyes shut and you fall forward against him.

 A few blocks away...

 The man staggers through the empty alleyway, clutching his neck hoping to slow the blood loss. He was lucky that he drained as much of that kid’s blood as he had, otherwise the wound would have killed him.

What was he thinking? He had one job. One job: find the girl and bring her to the abandoned studio. One job, and he couldn’t even do that.

He knew that he shouldn’t have bitten that kid, but he just couldn’t help himself, it had been weeks since he last drank anything.

That bitch ruined everything. If she had just stayed inside a little bit longer, he would have sucked the kid dry and taken her without anyone noticing.

He didn’t understand what was so special about her anyways. The only thing not unmentionably plain about her was her eyes.

They weren’t beautiful or anything, but he couldn’t help but look at them and once he did, he couldn’t convince himself to tear his gaze away.

Shrugging off the thought, he makes his way to the meeting point.

Hearing the faint sound of sirens in the distance, he quickly ducks inside the dark building and hopes that his client is feeling benevolent.

He moves his hand from his neck and sees that his wound has already started to heal. Releasing a heavy sigh, he checks the wound on his head and finds it fully healed. The only evidence left is the dried blood it produced.

He walks down the quiet hallway and opens the first door to his right just as instructed. However, when he enters the room there is nobody there.

Looking at his phone he checks the time remembering that he was supposed to arrive by 1:30 am. He sees that it reads 2:00 am. 

‘Shit,’ he thinks to himself. ‘They probably already left.’

Walking further into the room, he begins planning his next move when suddenly he hears the door slam closed and feels a presence behind him followed by a hand wrapping around his throat.

“So,” the figure says from behind him, their voice sounding like a whisper brought by a phantom wind.

“Not only did you fail to deliver the girl, but you also managed to leave an entire shitstorm in your wake as well. There was a reason the word ‘quietly’ was included in your instructions.”

The man gasps for air and tries to respond but only manages to let out a grunt.

The figure releases its grip on the man, and the man sinks to his knees, gasping for air while clutching his neck.

“I’m sorry” he rasps,” Just tell the brotherhood I’ll get her for sure next time.”

The figure lets out a huff before walking around the man.

He stops just in front of the man’s bent knees and lifts him by the throat once more, this time squeezing tighter.

“There won’t be a next time,” the figure whispers before breaking the man’s neck and walking away.

[sanders-sides-rebloger]

Cabin in the Woods

Tis the season to be frightening! Fa la la la la, la la la la!

Here’s a fanfic for your liking! La la la la la, la la la la!

A/N: As it is the spooky season I’ve decided make a Vampire Virgil fic. Because we deserve it and he’s amazing. 

Thank you so much @ironwoman359 for beta editing for me! This could've turned out so much worst without your help XD

Word Count: 3,252

Summary: Roman stays in a fairly big Cabin in the woods for vacation that was owned by his Aunt Patty. He's aloud to stay as long as he wants. She figured he needed it after being in a slump from being rejected by one of the most awarding movie studios.

Not only that’s, It’s isolated with nothing but trees and woods surrounding the building and a narrow dirt path that’s an hour away from civilization. What could possibly go wrong?

Tw: drug mention, slight swearing (If there's anything i should add feel free to let me know!)

Roman stays in a fairly big Cabin in the woods for vacation that was owned by his Aunt Patty. He's aloud to stay as long as he wants. She figured he needed it after being in a slump from being rejected by one of the most awarding movie studios.

It’s even isolated with nothing but trees and woods surrounding the building and a narrow dirt path that’s an hour away from civilization.

There’s already plenty of food and water prepared for him already but it’s annoying at times to have to get groceries where the nearest store is an hour and half away but he got used to it. An experience like this is a challenge on Romans part.

Living somewhere that’s completely out of his comfort zone is new and exciting. The place even miraculously has internet and cable so that's a plus for him.

One day he decided to go out for a walk at sunset, enjoying the quietness of nature. The sun seemed to almost set.

Its been about fifteen minutes of walking when Roman hears hushed voices and the sounds of other men talking. He grew confused, close to no one should be around here. The area was secluded.

It turned out to be a drug trade going on, and Romans just stupidly walked in the middle of it.

Every inch of his body filled with regret. He should’ve known what he was getting himself into.

They see him and immediately jumped him. Roman was able to put up a good fight for a while until more of them showed up. For a hopeful second he was able to run away. He fled to the direction of his car so that none of them could know where he lives and try to get the hell away from them as soon as possible.

It was short lived as one guy grabbed him by the back collar of his letterman jacket and pulled him back. He threatens him and tells Roman other nonsense he could care less about.

The tears were pouring down before he realizes it. Tired, beaten, and defeated he could only struggle against the attackers arm around Romans neck and shoulders and beg for mercy.

As soon as he believes this could be the end, the thug’s grip was surprisingly pulled away and he was violently dragged far away from Roman. His screams of bloody murder echo behind him the further away he was.

The prince like man stumbles forward and turns around in fright mixed with confusion, and his eyes widen in terror, the thug disappeared as soon as it happened like no one was ever there. Romans eyes widen.

Who in the hell just did that? There’s no way the bandit possibly fled on his own. Someone else has to be here. Romans eyes quickly land on the three suspicious men, from before, coming into view.

They look at Roman like he was crazy, believing he was the one who possibly killed their friend. The three looked like they were about to attack him when suddenly something came flying into view. A blur of a human shape came knocking the attackers out within seconds, as if he was flying.

Roman stood frozen. Paralyzed with confusion.

Soon he realizes how odd the newcomers clothing is. It was hard to see but his clothing looked like it could’ve been from the Victorian era and his skin is completely pale white. It was all Roman could see since the man was moving too fast, he had the hood of his cape covering his eyes.

Before he realizes what’s happening, he feels something cotton grab his wrist that quickly takes Romans hand and drags them far away to the safety of his Cabin.

Romans mind is reeling at this point. He sighed to himself in relief.

Then it got worse, his heart dropped at the sight of what looked like long sharp fangs curving out of this guy's head. It made Roman want to run inside, lock his doors and windows, and get as far away from this thing as possible.

He was only able to incoherently mumble questions and frightened gasps. With its fangs still out and hissed towards Roman whenever he struggled against his grip. The stranger then grasps Roman and whispers in his ear in a low growl.

“I don’t know who you are, but the only reason I saved your sorry ass was so I didn’t have to deal with a dead body in my territory. Tell anyone about this, my fangs will be digging so deep in your neck, you’ll be completely deflated.”

It made goose bumps grow all over Romans neck. His heart felt like it was beating out of his ribcage. What made this action ten times worse was how the hooded man's voice had a deep dark echo to it.

And with that, the stranger shoved the man in front of him to the ground and disappeared into the night. Roman laid there for several minutes trying to control his breathing as his growing fear in his mind replayed everything that happened in one night.

He went away back to his apartment for a while. The poor guy couldn’t sleep properly for days and left immediately after. He told no one of his experience, he knew they would think he’s crazy for believing in something that sounded so made up.

The Princely character had time to think about his situation over and over. He wasn’t sure whether it was the fight he had been in or the meeting with the pale stranger that terrified him the most. A shiver went down Romans spine from just thinking of him.

He remembers the way the man's breath grazed his earlobe as he talked in that chilling low tone of his. His grip on the man's arms below his shoulders felt overwhelmingly too tight for a normal person.

The creature wasn’t exactly hiding who he was either. Even the very act of saving Roman in the first place to later on threaten him afterwards was beyond him. He could’ve just left him to die by those thugs, and it wouldn’t have been the man's problem either. He could’ve just carried on with his life without Roman in it.

But he didn’t. Instead he knocked every single one there was and dragged them away in the blink of an eye. Roman hoped the creature at least had some morals to not want to mess with him again.

A good few weeks went by for Roman to gain some courage to go back and retrieve his essentials. He was currently finishing with the last of carrying his boxes to the trunk of his car with no issue until he heard a very loud sudden cry.

It was a deep cry, like someone was in pain. It happened only for a second before Roman did his best to brush it off.

He soon heard it again, but this time it was much louder and echoed effectively through the trees around him. From what Roman had heard so far, it didn’t sound familiar and he started to genuinely worry. Someone could be out there who could be hurt or worse. It wouldn’t be noble at all to walk away from any injured human being.

He wasn’t stupid of course, he remembered his last incident in these woods. He brought his samurai sword out with him that he kept inside the cabin as decoration and wished himself luck. He had a lot of spare time on his hands when he was younger.

Little Roman practically begged his Uncle to teach him, saying he wanted to fight like a real prince. His Uncle eventually agreed and helped train him on how to attack with a sword, little by little until the young man today was an expert.

The deeper into the woods Roman was, the more he heard pants and groans of desperation. He was walking for a good five minutes until he finally reached the mysterious injured being.

Roman became stunned in place to see the unworldly stranger from before, back against a thick oak tree, breathing heavily and barely moving. Only the deep rise and fall of his chest indicating any signs of life. He could recognize that clothing anywhere, his most recognizable clothing being his deep purple gloves and darkly stitched black and silk red embedded hood. Yeah, it was definitely him.

He lowered his sword but still held it tightly in his hands. Roman slowly went in front of the stranger and knelt down on one knee, putting distance between them, and examined him more closely. His eyes were closed and he looked to be unconscious. His mouth was slightly agape, showing his impressively sharp fangs.

Oddly enough Roman can’t deny that the man is surprisingly attractive looking from physical appearance alone. His pale skin brought out the dark circles around his eyes as well as his red lips.

A sudden chill went down the back of his neck at the thought of the color being as red as blood. Roman didn’t know and chose to keep it that way.

Without touching him, Roman inspected what he could and found no injuries on the man. There’s no one else in sight except them, so that loud groan had to have been from the now silent man in front of him.

Thinking about it now, he doesn’t know why he’s still here after what this person did! He’s the same one who bared his teeth at him and threatened Roman with his life. The stranger even somehow knows where he lives and could easily kill him if he wanted to. Could he have been stalking him as his prey for the two weeks Roman’s been here?

Romans grip tightened on the handle of his sword he forgot he was holding. His eyes traveled towards the blade.

He could kill this thing. He could do so with no witnesses. The hooded figure isn’t even human, who knows what he’s capable of. It would be so easy...

Roman stood weakly and lifted the end of his sword above his knees and pointed it to the creature's neck.

However this was also the same person who saved him from those dealers. Someone who entered the picture right when Roman needed help most. There was no way this person couldn’t have seen what was happening except from watching afar.

And right now, the closer he inspected the faded purple haired figure he could see how torn he looked. He was currently immobile, his cries were loud just a moment ago and...he looked much skinnier than he previously did? Romans eyes could be tricking him, since there’s excess clothing covering the creature from head to toe, so he couldn’t tell.

Even though the thought of more of them being out there terrified him to death, throughout the miles and miles of woods beyond Romans cabin, who knows, he could have a family somewhere out there.

And Roman was just going to kill him with the only excuse being his fear, even though it’s completely reasonable fear right? And when was the last time Romans seen his own family?

Nevertheless, no matter what circumstances there were, he is grateful for what it did. He wouldn’t be standing here today without the creature's help.

Roman tossed the sword aside and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. He slumped his body to the ground, feeling stupid for not doing the only rational thing a person should do. He doesn’t want to hurt it though. Not after seeing more closely how it pathetically slumped against the tree trunk like dead weight.

The being didn’t even touch him, well- harass him in any way.

The only time he’d touched him was after he dragged Roman straight to his cabin. Also being what he is, he couldn’t have seen another human in years, so it sort of makes sense as to why the stranger threatened him the way he did. It still begs the question to why he helped Roman in the first place.

Instead, he sits on his knees and hesitantly shakes the others shoulder gently to wake him. He doesn’t move, but he’s now taking shallow breaths in contrast to his previous heavy breathing.

Roman moves his hand to the strangers chest. Are creatures like this even alive? The one in front of him surely doesn’t look like it. Not only is he as pale as a corpse, but he’s ice cold to the touch. To confirm himself that if the figure was indeed alive, Roman moves his hand to its wrist, neck or anywhere to indicate any sort of pulse.

From what the man could tell he was beginning to lose hope. Nothing about the scene in front of him was indicating any source of life.

Roman slowly drew his hand back, going over his options for what to do in a situation like this. Roman moves his hand to the strangers skin at his bare neck for good measure.

However he was pulled from his thoughts when Roman yelped loudly in terror at two hands tightly grabbing his shoulders and pinned him, sitting, against the thick tree trunk with the stranger on top of his lap. The weight on him felt like a ton of bricks.

Romans wrists were tightly grasped together over his head with one of the stranger's hands. He winced loudly in pain. The strong grip around his wrists squeezed, barely not cutting off circulation. The other arm pushed horizontally across Romans chest, trapping him even more.

He's almost nose to nose with the stranger in front of him, he stares straight into the eyes of the one who put him in his now captive state, frozen in place.

Roman could widely see the creatures distinct facial features. How it formed a wicked smirk, with its claw-like fangs poking out of its mouth, how the pools of brown looked into Roman with dark unknown intentions.

Roman could feel his heart drop to his stomach at that moment, eyes tightly shut and body trembling as his mind conjured different scenarios of his ultimate demise.

It all made sense now. How the creature defeated the dealers to stop them from getting to Roman. The way he knew the exact route to get to his cabin. He knew where Roman would be in due time and just waited for the right moment to strike in his vulnerable state.

Romans mind drew a blank, and he could barely function at that moment.

He kicked, screamed, and pushed away with all his might but nobody came. The stranger's incredible power which held him down did nothing for him. It only leaned back only a little and watched with a calm expression of pity on the prey's pathetic attempt of escape.

Roman panted heavily, out of breath and worn out. He needs to kill this thing. He should’ve done so when he had the chance.

That's when Romans eyes slowly drifted to his sharp sword in front of him, glinting in the moonlight. He longed for it to magically appear in his hand to help him attack this creature.

His breath hitched as the figure moved forward and toward Romans ear.

“I wouldn’t think about it if I were you~” The creature warned. He said lowly, sniffing Romans neck a little and smiling brightly.

Roman turns his head away the best he can as he whimpers, feeling vulnerable it's touch. He felt completely and utterly violated.

Soon though, Romans face pales and his dread grew when he saw those familiar sharp fangs at the corner of his eye and they were pointed right at his neck.

“Tell anyone about this, my fangs will dig so deep in your neck, you’ll be completely deflated.”

Roman could feel his tears pricking in his eyes, on the verge of streaming down his cheeks. He’s going to die here. He’s never going to live to meet his dreams of becoming a professional actor. He’s never gonna see any of his friends again.

The creature wanted him all to itself, and he was gonna be eaten alive. Roman hoped it would be a fast death at least.

“Please...” Roman whimpers again, his voice quivering as he pushed the back of his head against the tree in an attempt to further himself from the creature. Which only caused him a strong stinging pain in his head against the bark. He prepared himself for the sharp pang to dig painfully deep into his neck.

...

Except, nothing happened.

After what felt like forever, nothing was done to Romans body. He was still pinned against the bark like a prisoner, but no actual damage was done to him. He was confused and afraid to open his eyes, yet he was wondering what the hold up was after the creature stated exactly what he wanted to do to him.

Roman opens his eyes painfully slow. He regains his vision and he could see how the pale man perked up and leaned further away from him. In a flow of emotions its face went from confused to shocked to sympathetic in mere seconds. Roman didn’t understand.

That’s when the figure throws the pinned man aside to the dirt and backs away with almost a tremble in his step. He looks down at his hands with wide eyes, pondering his actions.

He stands up with distance between himself and his victim, running a gloved hand through his hair.

“Did I just...“ The man mumbles to himself.

He grew silent, looking to be in deep thought. He continued to speak softly to himself but it was incoherent from where Roman sat. The silent ring of crickets can be heard with the rustling of the trees.

Roman can see the man from his side view, standing there. It was like he completely forgot that he was there in the first place. Right now, Roman had no idea what to do.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s still pretty damn terrified. But just now, he thinks, the man looked so... scared. Like he didn’t know what he was doing.

Should he say something? Do something to break the ice?

That’s when the man finally noticed Romans presence. His gaze slowly drifts to the man's tense filled body on the ground, looking up at him with a wide stare. His eyes once looked so menacingly. A type of stare that would make anyone regret they were born. Now though the man looks at him with lidded eyes, a light in them that’s shown full of regret. It was astounding. Roman didn’t know what to think.

Roman gets up on his own. He decided it’d be better to say something rather than nothing at all.

“I don’t know what’s going on, what or who you are, but I need an explanation for what happened just now.“ He continued to ramble on about everything else, wanting an explanation, pacing as he spoke.

Roman didn’t notice but the pale man rubs the bridge of his nose in a somewhat annoyed manner. He couldn’t blame him though.

Roman turns again, this time facing him this time.

The man being interrogated slowly walks towards Roman. He sees this and his words slowly die out in this throat, staring at him questionably.

His breath was quite literally stolen from him when the man places a gloved hand over Romans mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“Listen, I know you don’t exactly trust me right now. But my name is Virgil, and I need your help.”

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Quarters. | 8

☼1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8

prompt: Sitting here, patching myself up. Crying over what's left, 'cause without you I ain't shit, but no pressure guess I gotta learn my lesson. Sorry — 6LACK

pairing: Jungkook x reader

warnings/au: dysfunctional relationship with a capital D, family drama, humor(i try), temptations, drug usage, relapsing, hoeing, mentions and accusations of infidelity, jk has baby-fever for two seconds if you squint,, bloody, 18+ for heavy scenes, fluff, angst, this is purely fiction please do not read if you are sensitive or easily triggered boxer!au, iceskater!au.

authors note: omg FINALLY💜🐰 this chapter really took everything I had lol, like always, this part is a little out there, their relationship gets tested and they’re forced to grow. Will edit later. enjoy!

It’s so early in the morning, the sun is just now rising—the beauty does nothing for your anxiety though.

You told Jungkook that he needs to rest, he needs to take it easy and clear his mind before he walks into that hospital. The last thing you need is a stressed Jungkook behind the wheel, he’s way too unpredictable when he’s upset. After a few minutes of going back and forth, he gave up and let you drive him—in his car. This is a privilege. He doesn’t let anyone drive his car, not his best friends, not even you. He says, no one knows how to handle her like I do.

It always makes you laugh when he says that.

Jungkook glances at you as you take a turn at a questionable speed. He’s definitely driving back home. 

You look around the crowded parking lot and pull into a visitor's parking space, squeezing between the white lines surprisingly well.

“That was a long drive,” You pull the key out of the ignition and turn your head to look at him, “but we made it.”

Jungkook doesn’t turn to look at you, rather, he takes a deep breath and his eyes shut before he drags his hands down his face. “I’m gonna warn you now, I’m going off on him if he gives me some shit excuse as to why he decided to leave me out of the loop on this.”

“Jungkook, please don’t do that. Stay calm, for your mother's sake and mine, I’m nervous.” You sigh, trying to grasp the fact that you’re about to meet his family for the first time. You open your door and slide out, naturally, you assumed he was doing the same thing. When you drop the keys into your purse and close the door, he still in the passenger's seat, head in his hands.

“Jungkook.” You stomp around the vehicle and open his door. “Come on, we need to go inside,”

He sighs, heavy black boots landing on the pavement when he gets out of the car, stretching his legs in the hugging black jeans. When he closes the door, he bends down to look at himself in the window, hair still a little wet.

“You look good with messy hair, don’t fix it too much,” You smile, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles a little but he’s back to that grave face in just a few seconds. His silver necklace is a nice touch to his outfit you notice, he paired it with his hooped earrings and you think it looks really charming. 

You haven’t been to a hospital in a while. Nurses with bright colored scrubs come to and from the nurse's station, visitors pace around the gift shop, hoping to find the perfect for their loved one. When you two get signed in as visitors, your eyes wander to the couple at the sliding doors, the woman is in a wheelchair holding her baby and the man is trying to help in any way possible, the nurse gazes at him fondly. She knows he’s trying hard.

“Here you go, she’s in room 202A,” The nurse hands you the sticky tags to and points you in the right direction. Jungkook breathes in, looking like the antiseptic and sterile environment makes him dizzy.

“Should I get her a gift?” Your eyes follow the family walking out of the gift shop with get well balloons and teddy bears. 

“You can, she’d like that,” He follows you into the gift shop and you go straight to the bunnies in the corner. After sorting through the stuffed animals, you pick the little pink one in the back. Now that you see the bunny, it’s only right to get her a balloon and some flowers.

“Hi there,” She cashier greets you, taking your items to ring them up, “great choices.”

“Thanks,” You smile, proud that this random lady approves of your gifts. 

It’s not long before you’re leaving the shop to finally meet see her, to finally meet his family. Does Jungkook have her eyes? The cute sun rays at the corner of his eyes when he laughs, does he get that from her? These questions swarm your mind when Jungkook's hand grips the doorknob, just seconds away from opening another part of his world to you.

“Knock, knock,” He opens the door and the brightest smile came to his face when he sees the woman on the bed. He beckons you to follow and you just know you must have the most awkward smile on your face.

“Jungkook! Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were coming!” 

She looks at him like he’s a puppy – as if he’s the epitome of love and innocence. 

He runs to give her a hug, eyes squeezing shut, relieved that she’s in one piece and smiling that life-saving smile. “I’m glad you’re okay mom,” He sighs, standing back and reaching for you to shuffle you towards his mother, “this is Y/n, my girlfriend.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” You smile, holding your gifts out to her, “this is for you, I hope you like it.”

“Aw, thank you, honey,” She takes the bunny with bright eyes and you sit the flowers on the stand beside her bed, “I’m so glad he brought you to meet me. I hate that we’re meeting under these circumstances though.”

“Jooe called me last night, scared me half to death,” Jungkook takes a seat in the recliner beside her and you sit in the little cushioned bench near the window, “are you okay?”

“I’m as good as can be expected, I guess,” She continues to talk to Jungkook and just observe them, admiring their similarities—you note that she looks very young, “I felt terrible yesterday. The doctors told me that I got here right on time, the appendix was badly ruptured, it felt like cramps from hell.”

“Where’s Kev and Jooe?” Jungkook says her husband's name differently than his little sisters.

“She was getting restless, he took her to get something from the cafeteria. Something tells me you’re not too happy with him, and my intuition never lies so what’s the problem?”

“Mom, I got the call that you were in the hospital from Jooe. Why didn’t he call me? Why does she have a phone, by the way? She’s 6.”

“I know, she told me.” She lets out a sigh, knowing where Jungkook is going. “It’s an emergency cellphone app on her tablet, it’s not an actual phone.”

He dismisses the information to return to his original topic. “I shouldn’t have gotten a call that you were in the hospital from her. Kev, your husband, should have let me know.” 

“Jungkook, he was stressed out, okay? He was trying to make sure I was okay so his attention was a little divided, don’t be too hard on him.”

“He did it on purpose, he’s always tried to keep me out of the loop when it comes to you. I’m fucking tired of it-”

“Kookie!” 

A high-pitched voice squeals from an adorable little girl with two long jet-black pigtails atop her head. She runs from the man once holding her hand to jump into Jungkook’s arms. It’s evident in his mother's eyes that her heart is melting at the sight.

“It’s good to see you too, Jooe,” He giggles, pulling back to get a good look at her, “Hey, I want you to meet someone.” 

You squirm anxiously, for some reason wanting her more than anyone else approval.

“She’s really special to me,” When she adjusts to sit in his lap, she finally looks at you. He leans to whisper in her ear, “say hi.” He moves her to fully face you, making both of your eyes go wide at meeting each other.

“Hi,” She shyly waves, back leaning into Jungkook to seek comfort.

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” You wave, “you’re so pretty, you look just like your mom.”

She blushes, hands grabbing at her yellow sun-dress instinctively. “Thank you, you’re really pretty too.” She cracks a bright smile and her attention goes to her mother when she starts asking her about what she ate for breakfast.

“Jungkook, I didn’t think you’d be able to make it,” Kev finally speaks and the sparkle in Jungkook’s eyes fades instantly. 

“Well, here I am.” Jungkook shoots back, eyes menacing and dark within a matter of seconds.

“Um, hello,” You stand up to greet who you assume if ‘Kev,’ hand extended and he takes it in a friendly manner, “I’m Y/n, you’re Kevin, right? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook’s-” 

“You must be his better half,” You nod, scooting back to sit down, “a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”

A million-dollar pearly smile, business clothes on, hair slicked back like that of a TV-doctors—he seems really kind, you can’t see why Jungkook would have such a problem with him. It’s hard to sit here knowing he’s the reason Jungkook wasn’t invited to his step-brother's wedding. The reason he called you drunk as hell because he was so hurt—this guy did that to him.  

“Has the doctor been in to talk to you? I have a call to jump on but I want to be with you to see what she says.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey, take your call, I know you’re pressed for time,” She sighs in relief, “I’m just glad Jungkook is here, I feel better just from seeing his face,” She reaches for his hand and a spark of pride comes to him, “it’s been too long.”

He knows and guilt eats him up for that more than she knows.

“Well, you know Jungkook, he’s got a busy life, doesn't have too much time for stuff like this,” He laughs a little, eyes landing on you for a moment, “I’m sure you get that, don’t you hon?”

He’s looking at you and you turn a little pale. You look at Jungkook, and then open your mouth to utter out something, “Well, um, no I-...”

“Kev, leave the girl alone,” Jungkook’s mom intervenes, noticing how flustered you looked.

“I can’t make time for shit that I don’t even know is happening,” Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh, but not out of genuine amusement, he’s doing it to stay calm, “What do you expect? You don’t tell me shit.”

“All you have to do it ask,” Kevin stands next to his wife, opening up his phone to absentmindedly tap the screen.

“That’s bullshit...” Jungkook let one too many words slip before thinking of the child in his lap who’s more focused on his phone than anything. The two of them make you feel uneasy, it’s like one wrong word from either of them would start a brawl. 

“No!” Jooe exclaims, sliding off of Jungkook’s lap, “I left my sweater in the cafeteria! I have to go get it before someone takes it!” Distress befalls her and now the whole room's attention is on her.

“Jooe, I told you to make sure you kept it wrapped around your waist,” Kev doesn’t look like he wants to go but he grudgingly stands to his feet. “Come on,”

“Do you want me to take her? I was going to get coffee anyway, I can help her look for it.” You look at Jooe with a sweet smile.

“Oh, are you sure? I mean, as long as you don’t mind I fine with it,” It’s almost like you answered his prayer because he fell back into a chair with a sigh of relief.

“Of course I don’t mind,” You stand up, holding out your hand, “is it okay if I go with you, Jooe?” She nods, taking your hand without hesitation. Jungkook looks in awe as you seem to already be a favorite of his little sisters—he’s never seen you interact with children, but it warms his heart.

“We’ll be back everyone,” 

You wave to the room as you go on a mission to find the missing sweater. As soon as the door closed, Jungkook’s mom smirks at him. 

“What? You’re giving me a weird look.”

“She’s so sweet Jungkook, oh my gosh. I’m so glad you brought her, I’ve never met one of your girlfriends before, she must really be something. Look, Kev,” She points to the flowers and the bunny in bed next to her, “she brought me these cute gifts.”

“That’s sweet,” He looks up from his phone, then at Jungkook, “you better hang on to her.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Jungkook scoffs. “So all l I have to do is ask, you expect me to have to beg for information on my own mother?”

“We live in different city’s and sometimes it’s easy to handle things and let you know after everything's said and done.” He reasons, eyes going to his cellphone in an attempt to exit the conversation peacefully. To both his mother and Kev’s surprise, he leaves it at that—not cussing, not lashing out, he just sinks back into his seat, expression unreadable. Jungkook remembered that you asked him not to lash out, and he’s so tempted to, but he’s gotta keep things under control for you.

You must have made a difference in him because this isn’t the Jungkook they’re used to.

* * *

“What color is it, Jooe?” 

You and this bubbly little girl are holding hands and walking into the cafeteria. “Sky blue, it’s my favorite, what if someone took it...” concern coats her tone, it makes you a thousand times more determined to find it. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll find it, you’re with a professional sweater detective Jooe,” You give her hand a reassuring squeeze and draw a little smile from her. It only takes a few questions to get her to retrace her steps. She finally finds the table she sat at while her dad ordered her fold and it was right there. It’s just a sweater, but she’s so happy.

”I told you we’d find it,” You’re relieved she found it, now you can get your coffee, “I’m just gonna get some coffee, then we can go back up to the room.” You lead her to stand by you when you walk up to the counter. A protective arm around her shoulders as you order two small lattes. They come out quickly and she begs you to carry Jungkook’s, you’re afraid she’ll drop it, but you give her a chance.

“Okay, but be careful,” She walks right beside you, both hands tight on the disposable cup, you open the door for her to walk in and she beams.

“We found it,” She walks up to Jungkook, handing him the cup, “and we brought you coffee.” 

“Thank you guys,” He looks up at you, his eyes sparkling.

“I’ll be right back, I have to make a phone call,” You look to Jungkook to reassure him that everything is okay. But you got a text from your older sister Layla. Call me. She rarely reached out like this so you decided to give her a call, hoping nothing was wrong

“Hello,” 

“Hey, Y/n, how are you?”

“I’m fine, what’s wrong? You texted me to call, what’s going on?”

She sighs, “I need a favor,”

“What is it?”

“I need someone to watch Lily, I’m in your part of town and I have to go see her dad.”

“Layla,” You message your temples, “I’m not in town and I don’t know if I can watch a baby right now, I’m with my b-”

“Please Y/n, I can’t call mom, you know how she is with him,” 

“Okay, okay,” You cut her off, looking down at your watch to see if you can make it home before 11, “I can get home around 11, bring her by 11:30.”

“Thank you! Thank you, I’ll see you then little sis,” She sounds relieved, and even though this wasn’t apart of your plans, you do feel good about helping her out. You type up a quick message to tell Jungkook that your visit has to be cut short. Hoping he sees it, you walk back into the room and give his family a kind smile.

“I’m sorry to cut the visit short, but I have a little situation that came up with my sister’s baby, so I’m gonna have to go,” Jungkook stands up, sitting Jooe where he once sat with her tablet and promptly kissing her forehead and telling her he’ll see her soon.

“Oh, we understand Y/n, I’m just glad I was able to meet you,” His mom reaches to give you a hug goodbye, she whispers, “take care of him for me.” 

“I will,” You notice that Kev had stepped out so you weren’t able to say goodbye to him, and you have a feeling Jungkook is glad. 

“I love you mom, call me if anything changes,” His mom kisses his cheek, relishing in the rare affection she gets to show her son.

His family loves him.

When you get to the car, you can see relief overtake his body, knowing his mother is in good health. This time he drives, and now he gets to assist you with your family situation.

“So, what’s up with your sister?”

“She needs me to watch her baby,” You lean against the window, pressing your temples, “she’s having baby-daddy issues, but she won’t say it,”

“Hm,” He nods, knowing how that can be according to some of his friends, “how old is the baby?”

“She’s five months or six months old, something like that, I was supposed to go out to help Rosie pack for her new apartment but I guess I’ll have to get there later,” and you were really looking forward to that.

“Oh, she’s a young baby,” 

You can’t help but giggle, “Aren’t they all,”

“Yeah, but I mean like, she still needs her mothers milk and she probably is just- I don’t know, small?” In the midst of him explaining the difference between a baby and a young-baby, your eyes flutter shut and you fall straight to sleep. The gentle hum of the engine lulled you to sleep. When he looked over, a grin came to his face—even thought you fell asleep in the middle of his talking, he loves you.

For some reason, you’re stressed.

“Jungkook, you don’t have to stay,” You told him that a hundred times, telling him he was supposed to be conditioning today but he insisted, “I got this.”

“I don’t have to go until late,” He’s laying on your couch, a black tee-shirt on, showing his beautiful arms and the tattoos that graced them. He’s drawing one for one of Yoongi’s clients tonight. Yoongi has his own tattoo shop, where it smells like weed and you’re sure drug deals happen in the back. You want to go lay with him, but instead, you're in the kitchen trying to clean your stress away on the stainless steel. “I’ll stay for a while, you went with me this morning,”

“Just know that you don’t have to,” You mumble, that’s when you hear the doorbell ring, “she’s here.” When you yank the gloves off, you go to the door and take a breath before opening it.

“Hi, Y/n,” Layla walks right in, giving you a big hug.

“Hey,” You smile, eyes filling with adoration when you see your niece in the car seat, “hi Lily,” You lead Layla to sit the car seat on the couch where Jungkook was waiting to be introduced.

“Layla, Jungkook,” You gesture to him, “Jungkook, Layla.”

“Hi,” He flashes a sweet smile, “nice to meet you.”

“Oh hello, nice to meet you too, “ She nudges your arm, giving you gossiping-girlfriend eyes. “Y/n didn’t tell me you were so handsome,” 

“Yeah, well, must’ve slipped my mind,” You laugh, the most in-genuine laugh he’s ever heard, “did you bring her a few changes of clothes? Bottles? Formula?”

“Are you her mom, or am I?” She laughs, handing you the baby bag. “Everything’s in there, she should be hungry in a few minutes.”

“Okay, will you be back to get here tonight? I have plans tonight so-”

“Yeah, before 7,” She’s headed to the front door, “thanks so much for watching her.”

The door closes, and just as quick, Lily starts to cry.

“She’s crying,” Jungkook moves closer to her pink car seat, hesitantly moving her seat to look at her increasingly red face. “do you want me to-”

You rush over to pick her up, “It’s okay Lily,” cradling her against you, “Auntie Y/n is watching you while mommy takes care of some business,” You walk around, rocking her a little, then you remember she’s probably just hungry. His eyes are wide, watching you hold the little girl to cry to calm her

“Jungkook,” He shakes out of his daze and looks at you, “can you warm her a bottle? Just run it under hot water for a minute or so,” You point to the baby bag and take a seat on the couch. He gets up promptly, finding the bottle easily and taking it to the kitchen.

He dries the bottle and brings it to you, “Thanks,” You sit her up, her curly brown hair a little smashed on one side but still cute. When you bring it to her lips, her crying ceases and you breathe in relief, Jungkook sits beside you, leaning on your shoulder and watching the TV.

“Hopefully she’ll nap after this,” Her big brown eyes look from you to Jungkook every few seconds, “look at her hair, it’s so curly,” 

“Yeah, it is,” He smiles, looking down at your niece, “she’s adorable,”

It’s not long before she finishes her bottle, you burp her and put her back in the seat so she can nap. Surprisingly, she doesn’t fuss, and you leave her and Jungkook on the couch so you can go to the table to finish the essay that you forgot you had.

He’s awoken by a cry. In his many years with Jooe when she was a baby, he often woke up to cries. He groggily opens his eyes and shoots up to see what was wrong with Lily and to see where you went.

“Hey,” He reaches down the lift her small body into his completely contrasting hands, “it’s okay, don’t cry, shh,” Naturally, he bounces her gently, feeling bad for her inability to express her sorrow, “what’s wrong Lily-” That’s when it hits him, “Oh,” He sighs, “I would cry too.”

With her in one arm, he grabs her baby bag, dragging it across the couch. Once he finds the changing mat, he lays it out and lays her on it. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a baby turn so red, she looks like she’ll set the house on fire if he doesn’t hurry up.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He takes out the diapers, wipes, and gloves, “I haven’t changed a baby in years, give me a break,” 

After dodging her kicks to his hands and relieving her of the dirty diaper, she’s cleaned up and the color is coming back to her face.

“Damn,” He triple-bags the diaper and gloves and takes it to the trash with her in his other arm, “I think I did a pretty good job, what do you think?” He smiles, proud of himself for being an ideal babysitter in his eyes, even though she’s still crying a little bit.

“Where is your aunt?” He drops the bag in the trash and then looks around for you. When he finds you, your head is on your textbook and your computer screen was black, you fell asleep doing work. He’s found you like this many times after skate practice, cramming for assignments that you procrastinated on.

“Let’s let her sleep for a little bit,” Resisting the urge to wake you, opting for taking Lily to the couch so she could chill in her seat. He turns on his game counsel that he left over here and makes himself busy.

Lily was quiet for the most part after he gave her a pacifier and she found a dangling thing on her seat—she’s good now.

Suddenly, you feel paper stick to your face and your eyes fluttered open. 

“Jungkook?” You shoot up, wiping your face and looking around. “How long was I asleep?” You quickly walk over to the living room, looking at your boyfriend and your niece having a fine time without you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” You sigh, taking a seat between Jungkook and Lily in her seat, “I was trying to write my paper.”

“You’re fine, I changed her and everything,” His eyes are still glued to the TV and you grin.

“Wow, thanks. You’re a good babysitter,” You sigh, dropping your hand into her seat and she grabs one of your fingers, “I guess I should order some takeout, what do you want? Pizza?”

“I wish I could stay baby,” He leans back and sighs, “but I gotta go, Yoongi’s expecting me at the shop, he wants me to finish up a sketch for a client of his.”

“Oh, then I’ll just make something for me,” Your eyes follow him as he gets up, grabbing his keys and scrolling through his phone for a moment, “hopefully Layla will pick her up on time so I can head to Rosie’s,”

“Yeah,” He gently rubs Lily’s little cheek, his hair dangle over her when he leans down to smile at her, “bye Lily, be good for your aunt, okay?”

You giggle. “I didn’t know you were such a softy for babies,”

“She’s cute, kinda makes me want one,” Your expression must’ve looked shocked because he quickly covered himself, “I’m joking, I’m not daddy-material, I can babysit, but my own kid? I don’t think so, we’re both a little too messed up for that,” He just laughs.

“Yeah,” You nervously let out the breath that you unconsciously held. He can’t blame you for your reaction, you’re both young with lives that just don’t work well with stability. And you love Jungkook and he loves you, but jokes like that are merely just that, jokes.

“I’ll see you later,” He leans down to give you a kiss, pressing your lips with a grin.

“Okay,” You withdraw, your smile fading a little but he doesn’t notice. When he leaves, your eyes linger on the door and you swallow. 

You have an aversion to a lot of places he goes, but you have a special dislike for Yoongi’s tattoo shop.

“Lily,” You look at her and sigh, “I guess it’s just you and me.” You switch on some random TV show and sit back, you just hope her mom isn’t late this time.

When he pulls up to the shop, his usual parking space in the back being there just as he expected, he sees Yoongi talking to some girl at the back door. She’s a frail little thing, hair bleached as white at humanly possible, mascara heavy even from this distance, and tattoos covering her legs under fishnet-stockings and very short shorts. He watches as Yoongi talks to her, he looks upset, brows furrowed even under his hair covering them. 

Her eyes are dark and whatever she’s saying is making Yoongi place his hands over his face. She looks like she might be defending herself. After a few seconds, she shows him her middle finger and storms to her car. Pulling out at an ungodly speed. He kindly flips her off and eyes her until she’s out of sight, that’s Yoongi.

Jungkook finally decides to get out of the car and Yoongi leans against the back door, waiting for him to walk over.

“Hyung,” He grabs his art bag and locks his car, letting it beep twice before leaving it, “sorry I’m a little late,”

“You’re fine,” Yoongi sighs, tired eyes gaining a little bit of life when he sees Jungkook, “I’m sure you saw the shit I just had to deal with.” Yoongi opens the door so they can both head inside the well-kept shop, the door shutting behind them.

“I wasn’t gonna mention it,” But he was admittedly curious, “but who was that,”

“A pain in the ass,” An artist he hired about a month ago, she’s got talent but she’s a complete mess, “she was selling dope out of the shop, drawing junkies back here at all times of the day. I’m not letting her fuck up my business, I had to fire her.”

“That’s tough,” Jungkook nods, clearing his throat when he takes a seat at his normal spot in Yoongi’s backroom slash office. “So, the sketch is rough, I’ll refine it and you can tell me if you want to add anything. Who is it for again?” 

“Agh,” Yoongi groans, now deciding to reveal the truth, “I was going to keep it a secret until the last second, but I guess I’ll tell you.”

Jungkook furrows a brow, “Tell me what?”

“It’s for Jimin, he wanted a new tattoo but he wanted the design to be a surprise,” Yoongi shows Jungkook to the area he can sketch at while Yoongi cleans up his needles and wipes off the table, “I told him I’d have it drawn up by my best artist,” He looks at Jungkook, “that’s you.”

“Seriously? In that case, I know exactly how I should finish it, he told me of a tattoo he was looking at not too long ago,” Jungkook smiles, glad he knows the person who’s going to have this tattoo, “it’s small, I imagined it going on the biceps or the ribs maybe? Not sure yet,” He sets up his tools to start finishing the design.

The shop is bustling with clients, artists, like always. Yoongi pretty popular with the underground scene, the punks and rejects seem to gravitate to this place. Including himself. He pops in his earbuds because of the loud conversations going on in the front. 

Without him noticing at first, Yoongi slips out the back door.

After an hour or so, Mingyu, one of the artists walks in and Jungkook takes out an earbud to greet him. He’s got more tattoos than Jungkook and his hair is electric blue and he used to drag Jungkook into all types of stupid stuff. He’s been close to puking out his organs on several occasions—they laughed a lot about it but he never smoked with him after that. 

“Kook, long time no see,” He leans in the door frame, “I saw you at the match last night, you’re always the talk of the night on Tuesday Night Brawls, congrats on your win.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook pushes his hair back, propping his arm on the desk to look at him, “I didn’t see you,”

“I had some activities to attend to so I had to leave early,” Mingyu’s activities probably entailed a female going to who knows where to do who knows what, “I heard you went to Jimin’s for a little party, any fun stories? I didn’t see many groupies with you guys,” 

“Man, I don’t do that shit anymore,” Jungkook goes back to the drawing, “I’m kind of in a relationship,” 

“Oh, me too,” He giggles to himself, “but we like to keep it open, it’s not exclusive, ”

“Mine is,” Jungkook affirms, this bias towards one individual catching Mingyu off guard.

“Aw, someones softened up,” Mingyu nods, “then I guess you probably don’t want to go to Milo’s Club, I have a friend there who’ll hook us up if you know what I mean.”

Milo’s is the spot for avid clubbers of any rank, potheads, college kids—anyone and everyone looking for a good time.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, “maybe,”

“Well, some of us are headed over there when we close up shop in about 30 minutes, if you change your mind feel free to join us,”

Tempting.

Going out wouldn’t hurt, you’ll be at your girlfriend's house so he’d be going home alone anyway, he reasons with himself. As long as he doesn’t get carried away, he can indulge a little bit, can’t he? Yeah, he was just going out like he used to, nothing bad about that.

Layla finally came to get Lily and just as soon as she came you went to the grocery store to get a dessert to bring, you were feeling a little peckish. When you knock on the door, you can hear Rosie’s footsteps approach the door. 

“Hey girl,” Rosie smiles, pulling you in with a relieved sigh, “oh, you brought food?” She peaks into the bag that you take to the kitchen.

“Yup, cheesecake,” You walk into the apartment and see Yuna, and Harmony here to help as well, “thought it’d be nice to have something indulgent.”

“Thank you Y/n,” Yuna speaks up from her wrapping a vase in bubble-wrap, “Rosie is working us to death, we need a reward.”

“I’m sure she is,” You laugh at Rosie defending herself as you open the cheesecake and take out paper plates and forks, “sorry I’m a little late, I was babysitting for a little bit.”

“Aw,” Harmony speaks from her comfortable spot sprawled on the couch, “who’s baby?”

“My sister’s, she needed to meet with her boyfriend, they had to sort some stuff out,” You put generous portions on each plate and brought them with you to the living room, “he’s being stupid.”

“That sucks,” Rosie looks u from her cheesecake, “is it custody thing?”

“I don’t even know, she won’t say,” You find yourself scooping a piece of cheesecake into your mouth, “Oh, I also met Jungkook’s family this morning.”

“How did that go?”

“It was fine,” You sigh, “his little sister called him last night, told him their mom’s appendix had ruptured, and you know him he got super worried and I did too. He doesn’t have a good relationship with his stepdad, they don’t see eye-to-eye on anything. But I think it went okay, his mom and his little sister seemed to like me, the stepdad too.” 

“That’s good, I know you were worried about him letting you in on his family life,”

“Yeah, he even helped me babysit for a little while,” You smile at the thought, “it was really cute.”

“Oh my gosh,” Yuna giggles, “tattooed, earrings, leather boots, and ripped jeans Jungkook with a baby? How cute,” Everyone makes a mental picture of it and their hearts melt, “he seems like the type now that I think about it.”

“I fell asleep and when I woke up, he had changed her and they were on the couch together,” You smile at the thought, “it was sweet. He was talking about how cute she was, he said she made him want one.”

“You’re lucky,” Harmony looks up from her phone, “my ex couldn’t take care of a cactus, let alone a baby.”

“It’s silly, but there’s this thing I have where-...Well, you guys know the stuff I went through with my birth mom, she was a mess. And when she tried to get me back when I was in elementary school, it was a nightmare. Jungkook didn’t have it easy growing up either, it just makes sense that he’d say we’re both too messed up for a kid,” You sigh, “we’re both scarred by our parents. But I still don’t know why he’d say that...” 

The three of them give you an odd look, “Say what? That you’re both too messed up for a kid?”

“Yeah,” You frown “why would he say he wanted on if that’s how he felt about us?”

“He was just being funny and obviously flirting with you,” Rosie shakes her head, “most girls would find that charming,”

“He said he was joking,” You reveal, “but damn, I’m not that messed up...”

“You mean you two have never talked about kids before, not even out of fun as a couple?”

“Well,” You rub your arm, embarrassed that they all think your reaction is ridiculous, “no...Is that a normal thing?”

You’re being ridiculous—is that what they all thought?

“Uh, yeah, Y/n,” Yuna takes everyone's empty plates to the kitchen, “chill, he was just being a guy. Maybe you can talk to him about it-”

“No, it’s not that deep,” You reason, “he went to Yoongi’s shop tonight, where all his up-to-no-good friends are...The people there do a lot of crazy stuff, there’s always some drama. That’s what I hear at least, I’ve never even been there.”

“Yeah,” Rosie chimes in, “but You trust Jungkook,” you assumed it was a question so you nod, “so chill out, and wrap these spatulas. I have to get half of this done before I pick my parents up from the airport in the morning, my mom will go neat-freak if she’s the one helping me.” She laughs, handing you the rags to wrap it in.

You should trust him. 

So why don’t you?

The music is so loud, it almost hurts—but it’s so familiar, he knows the blaring speakers well. All the smells, the people wearing close to nothing just to get a fleeting moment of attention. He was once a happy giver of that attention. Hell, it was happily given to him at one point. As soon as they walked in, Mingyu was whisked away by a beautiful girl and he dragged Jungkook with him.

“Aren’t you glad you joined us?” 

Mingyu simpers, throwing back his second shot before his lips were pulled to the girl's mouth. Her lips were so pink, they were big too and he wondered if they were real. Jungkook just watched, his shot still untouched until he felt the need to down it like his life depended on it and walk-off. The other guys who decided to join were off at the bar and Yoongi went off to a personal room.

Jungkook was standing up against a corner, arms crossed and eyes surveying the room. Unbeknownst to him, there was a girl watching him from the dance floor. She was wearing a skin-tight sequin-covered dress that the lights hit, her eyes were set on a target and she was planning her attack. 

After a few minutes, Mingyu signals Jungkook to follow him into one of the personal rooms, where the magic happens. The purple lights from the ceiling illuminate the room in the dreamiest ways, the leather booths surrounding the room are shiny and comfortable when they sit. 

“San,” Mingyu greets him, taking a seat with that girl still under his arm, “what’d you have for me tonight?”

“The usual. I didn’t know you were bringing a friend,” He looks at Jungkook, surprised to see him here without Jimin, “good to see you, Jungkook. What’ll you be having?”

“Depends,” Jungkook takes a seat across from Mingyu, “I might pass.”

“Oh, come on,” Mingyu removes his hand from the girl's thigh to grab his wallet, tossing him a joint and a lighter, “here, take this and then see how you feel. As for me, San, I’ll take the usual, one for my lady-friend too.”

Jungkook stares down at the thing in his lap, taking it in his hand and using his other to light it. This is harmless, he mentally counsels himself with a deep inhale and slow exhale.

It’s not long before his head is floating and his body is slowly dissipating into thin air. His eyes are half-lidded and he feels good, relaxed, but deep inside there’s a quiet longing—he pushes it down in favor of another puff. Through blurred eyes, he watches Mingyu and the girl take something, he doesn’t know what.

“Now, you know what you want?” San speaks up, standing as if he just came back from somewhere. “It’s on the house, call it a favor for an old friend.”

Jungkook laughs a little bit, seeing that he’s already feeling like he did in high school, sneaking off into clubs to do this. “Give me something mild, I can’t go too crazy,”

“I know just the thing,” While San is going through a case, Jungkook is leaning on his knees, watching to make sure whatever he’s about to take isn’t some heavy-hitter kind of stuff. He pops the pill and sits back to let it take full effect. 30 minutes until euphoria, that’s what he used to say in his mind before consuming this stuff because that’s how long it normally took for hin to really feel it.

Mingyu whispers something to the girl, she tugs down her dress and scurries out of the room with a giddy smile. 

He’s teetering on the edge. So close, too close. The joint he had is still sending vapors in the air from the ashtray, he picks it up and finishes it.

Warm, and a little dazed, his eyes follow Mingyu who’s giving San a wad of cash before the drug dealer runs off. Mingyu’s little friend came back but Jungkook doesn’t register the people she brought with her, he’s high in the clouds right now while scrolling through his phone, wondering what you’re doing. Something smells really good all of a sudden, like flowers soaked in spices. He looks up from the phone and there’s a woman standing in front of him, he furrows his brows. 

“Hi,” She’s standing in front of him, that same girl with the sequin dress and long brown hair, “I’m Kendall, you’re Jungkook right?”

“Yeah,” He stares her down and she takes a seat next to him.

“I hear you’re a boxer,” She’s giving him her full attention, “I bet you’re good,” She puts her hand on his thigh, feeling nothing but hard muscle and she shivers when his legs spread out comfortably.

“I’m okay,” His bland answer doesn’t please her, she places her hand on his shoulders to feel how loose they've become.

“Mh, I can tell you’re more than okay,” She giggles, face getting closer to his. It’s evident that he took something, his pupils are huge and his hand's borderline tremble when she gets close. “your arms look so strong, and your tattoos are so-”

“What do you want?” He deadpans, his body feeling jittery and warm from the effects of the crushed pill.

“Well, I thought we could have a good time,” She boldly moves to sit on his lap, her thighs warm but not right, not yours. “you look like you could use one.”

“I- I can’t,” He pulls her arms from around his neck and pushes her off, causing her to frown.

“What? You have a girlfriend or something?” 

“Yeah,” He leans back once again, legs spread and now irritated that you’re not here for him to sink his finger in, “I’m not fucking that up.”

“You have a wife and kids too?” She bites back. 

He rubs the back of his neck, he’s sweating. “No, but-”

“Then I don’t see a problem,” She kisses him without warning and he doesn’t react quick enough to push her away. There’s a smirk on her face when she pulls back and his doe-eyes lose a bit of their sparkle, “no ring, no rules. That’s how I see it.”

“Don’t,” He pushes his hair back, mind reeling with the need to cuff himself to something so he can’t move. He wipes his mouth, “I can’t mess up what I have because of some whore-”

“Call me what you will,” She cups his jaw with a smile, “but you can’t take lover’s speed without a lover, loosen up.”

* * *

“I think we’re all finished up for tonight girls, thanks for helping me out,” It’s been a few hours and you guys were more focused on the reality TV show than parking the silverware, but you got it done.

“No problem, Ro,” You look down at your phone, it’s getting late.

“Are you sleeping over, Y/n?”

“Um, I can, it is getting kind of late,” You got up to go to the bathroom and the three of them went straight to their phones.

From the couch, Yuna’s eyes go wide and she shows Rosie her phone. Harmony grabs the phone so she can see why they’re looking like they’ve seen a ghost, “Oh my God, is that-” She whispers, “Is that Jungkook?...Does Y/n know-”

“Do I know what?” You walk out of the bathroom, brows furrowing when you hear them trying to be hush-hush. “Why are you guys looking like that?”

“Have you seen Sean’s story?” 

“No,” You frown, “what happened?” You quickly grab Yuna’s phone to see what she’s talking about. At first, you don’t know what you’re looking at until you see it.

It’s a group photo and Jungkook’s in the back, he’s in the back with some girl smothering his face with her own.

“When was this posted?” You ask calmly, biting your lip to keep from throwing the phone out of the window

“20 minutes ago,” Yuna answers, “at Milo’s.”

“Okay,” You give the phone back to Yuna and you grab your keys.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to that club.”

Rosie stands up with you, “Hold up, we’re going with you.” You tie your converse and the three of them follow you on your hunt.

Don’t do this to me Jungkook,

don’t do this to me.

* * *

“My bitch told me you threw her out, Min, what the fuck?”

“Your bitch was selling coke in my shop, I had to let her go,” Yoongi stands up, “you told me she was good for a job but she was bringing crackheads to my shop.”

“You told me you’d give her a job, you’re telling me you just fired her? Why didn’t you give her a chance? You used to sell-”

“Yeah, I used to. But I don’t anymore.” Yoongi leaves the room.

Meanwhile, Jungkook’s on the other side of the club with a loud group of guys, downing shots like he’s back in college.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi grabs his arm, and his pupils are blown, his cheeks are red, “I’m heading out, can you drive yourself home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Jungkook gives him a reassuring look, “I’m good, Hyung, I’m so good.”

“What did you take?” Yoongi looks at him for a moment, not trusting Jungkook to go anywhere himself, “Hey, call yourself a driver, okay?” Yoongi pats his back before leaving the stuffy place.

When he walks out the front door, he could have sworn he saw you pass him with a group of girls. If that’s true, then Jungkook’s in for a world of trouble.

This environment is foreign to you, you’ve been in it before but it’s always been too much, too loud. Your outfit doesn’t help you blend in at all, your gray converse, shorts, and t-shirt are quite contrasting to what the other girls are wearing. Your body is shaking, the people who are shooting you weird looks don’t matter to you, you need to see him.

“There he is,” Harmony points to the corner where Jungkook is leaned up against, he looks like a train-wreck. His hair is so disheveled and he looks jittery, anxious, but he’s smiling. How did he manage to do that to himself in just a few hours, “if you need back up, we’ll be over here.”

You nod, putting your best foot forward to walk a clear path towards him.

Only when you tap his shoulder from behind does he turn around to look at you. The high, the clouds are evaporating and he’s starting to feel the sweat on his brow, I’m sweating? For a moment he thinks you’re a hallucination, there’s no way you’re actually here.

He reaches out to touch you but you slap his hand away. That’s definitely you.

“Y/n,” He rubs the back of his neck, “what are you doing here?”

“Is this what you do when you leave? You come here to cheat on me and do drugs,” You bite your lip, when he just stares at you with dark eyes, “answer me.”

“What’re you talking about?-” You shove your phone into his chest.

“What do you call that, Jungkook? She’s all over you!” Tears start to prick at your eyes but you push it down, you try to. “What are you trying to do to me?”

He stares down at the phone, his chest tingling and heart aching at the sight. It was taken moments before he got up and left, she got on him but he willed himself to leave her. He was out of it, couldn’t really remember any details. “I took something, and I’m not-...” He gives you back your phone, dragging his hands down his face. “I wouldn’t cheat on you, I didn’t-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” You yell but the music is so loud, it sounds like you’re speaking at a normal volume. “After everything I’ve done for you, after everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe you would do this to me,”

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Some guy with electric blue hair barges into your conversation. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

You look at him, judging by his looks alone and the way he physically sides with Jungkook, you can piece together that they know each other.

“Um, was I talking to you?” You snap, looking at him as if he just grew a second head.

“No, but you look like you’re giving my friend here a hard time. I’d appreciate it if you calmed the fuck down, no one likes a-”

“And I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own business. I’m his girlfriend, who the fuck are you?” 

Mingyu cracks a nervous smile, “Oh shit,” He looks at Jungkook who’s finding it hard to stay still, “so, you’re the exclusive. I’m sorry, I may have set him up with a playmate for the night, but can you blame me? You obviously weren’t gonna join him,” He shrugs, “he just wanted to have a good time.”

“Y/n, I took ecstasy, I smoked a little bit, ok? That’s it, I didn’t do anything with that girl,” Jungkook glares at Mingyu, ”she kept coming on to me but it didn’t go anywhere-”

“You’re high, you don’t know where it went.” You turn his face to see red lipstick spotting his skin, “Look at your neck, it went somewhere...”

His hand comes goes there and he remembers the forced kiss before he ran out of the private room. 

“Y/n, please it’s not what it looks like,” He let’s out a grown of frustration, grabbing your wrist, “let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

“No,” You pull away, “don’t touch me,” He grabs continues to pull you towards the direction of the bathroom, “Let go! Let go of me-”

You jerk away and mistakenly bump into a fast-walking individual, he was trying to get Jungkook. Oops.

“Tell Yoongi that’s what it costs,” that’s what you hear and then the guy runs off.

When you hear a scream, it seems like the whole club stops and people start backing away. 

Why are they screaming? 

Only when you feel the wetness dripping down your knee do you realize why they were all looking at you. You stumble, placing your hand on your thigh when Rosie comes running up to you with tears in her eyes, her hands are trembling. “Y/n, oh my God-”

When you look up, Jungkook is shouting so loud that you can hear the strain in his voice and he’s running. There’s blood all over your leg, your leg is shaking.

“We need to put pressure,” One of the girls takes off her flannel and ties it around your leg, “give me a belt, somebody!” 

Some random guy gives her a belt and she wraps it around your leg tight. “Y/n, we’ll take you to the emergency room down the road, we need to get you out of here,” Rosie tries to help you to your feet but you wince, “can you stand? Harmony, help me!”

“Yeah, I think I can- Ouch!” You cry-out when they pull you up a little too fast, “wait, stop! That hurts-”

When they finish, Yuna and Harmony pull your arms to wrap around their shoulders, they look like their struggling. Jungkook suddenly breaks through the crowd of people, hair sweaty and eyes frantically scanning over you. He wants to throw up, but he can’t right now. 

“Give her to me,” Jungkook extends out his arms so he can take you from the girls but Rosie guards you from him with her whole body, “what the fuck? Move,”

“Haven’t you done enough?” She frowns. “We can handle this, why don’t you-”

“Come off it! I’m not about to let you three fucking drag her out of here like this, she’s gonna bleed by the time you get to the fucking door!” He moves Rosie out of the way, “Let me carry her.” Neither of the girls argue when he grabs you from them and lifts you into his arms.

In a matter of seconds, you’re outside and the cool air makes you cringe, holding Jungkook’s shirt tighter in your fist. “You okay?” He whispers, glancing down at you when you give a weak nod.

Yoongi was outside at his car talking and his heart sinks into his stomach when he sees your bloodied leg in Jungkook’s arms. Among the other people leaving the club, you and Jungkook were the last people he thought he’d see. 

“What the fuck happened in there?”

“Some guy was trying to stab me but she got in the way,” Jungkook explains in a panicked tone, “he said to tell you this is what it costs,” When Rosie opens his back seat door, he eases you to lay on the leather seats and gets back there with you.

“We’re taking her to the emergency room,” Rosie answers before closing the front-seats door and cranking the car up.

“Son of a bitch,” Yoongi pulls out his keys and gets in his car. That’s all he says before pulling out of the parking way faster than he should have.

Jungkook is sitting where your legs are so he can keep it propped up, “You’ll be okay,” He pants, the effects of the drug still running it’s course in his system, “does it hurt a lot?”

You nod, stomach-turning at the smell of your own blood. You mumble, “I feel like I’m gonna throw up...” 

He looks down at his hands, tattoos now colored red from your blood. “Me too...”

Jungkook and Rosie brought you inside while the girls waited in the car.

“Excuse me,” Rosie goes to the front desk and Jungkook goes is walking not far behind her, “my friend was just stabbed, does she need to sign in or something? She’s bleeding a lot-”

As soon as Jungkook came into their line of vision, the sight of your bloodied leg kicks them into an urgency.

“Bring her here,” A woman with lilac scrubs says something to a few people before she’s walking Jungkook to the back and directing him to a room, “sit her there, miss, do you feel dizzy at all?”

Jungkook hesitantly lays you on the little bed and two more people come into the room, both dressed in scrubs—he’s asked to step back.

“Just a little,” You bite your lip when they start removing what was covering your wound, it looked as bad as it felt, or maybe it’s just really bloody. They start taking wiping your thigh of the blood that covered it. You look away, not wanting to see the damage. 

“Sir?” A woman finally gets his attention after the third time calling him, when he looks at her, his eyes are a dead give away. That, and the smell of marijuana and liquor on him. “Have you taken anything tonight? You don’t look so good,”

He disregards her question with a question of his own, “...Wh- where’s the bathroom?” 

“Down the hall to your left, but-”

He runs out of the room before she can say anymore and he passes Rosie on his way there.

He bursts inside and locks himself in a stall. Immediately, he falls to his knees and painfully expels whatever he had consumed tonight into the toilet. 

His throat burns and his heart is pounding.

This was always the worst part.

*

* 

*

“So, how long will I need the crutches?” You look at your now-useless leg. “I’m an ice skater, I have competitions to prepare for, and-”

“Two weeks at the very least, but I would recommend no strenuous activity for a month at the least. With how close the wound was to the artery, you’re lucky it’s not longer.” The nurse smiles, probably thinking she was lightening the mood.

It’s just and the nurse, Rosie ran to the restroom and Jungkook hasn’t come back since he brought you here.

“So,” Rosie walks inside, “how long are you on the crutches?”

“Two weeks,” You frown, staring at them from the corner of your eyes, “this would happen to me, wouldn’t it?”

“It could have been anybody,” Rosie sighs, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Miss, you have a visitor by the name of Min Yoongi, do you want to see him?” 

You nod

After a few moments, she opens the door and Yoongi walks in.

“Y/n,” Yoongi comes to your side, guilt eating him up that he was the cause for this. “I’m sorry this shit had to happen to you, I don’t-”

“It’s not you’re fault, okay? Don’t beat yourself up about it, I shouldn’t have been there...” 

“Did Jungkook leave?”

“He ran to the bathroom earlier, I haven’t seen him since,” Rosie says that with a bite in her tone, and soon enough he’s walking inside the room, “that’s probably for the best, he’s the last person you need right now.”

Get it together.

He cupped water in his hands, swished it in his mouth and spit it out. When his eyes meet the mirror, he wanted to slam into it, shatter into a thousand pieces for bearing his face. He does his best to wipe the blood from his arms and hands with soap water and a napkin. He also wipes the lipstick from his neck, scrubbing at it unnecessarily hard until its gone. Nausea has faded enough for him to stand up and face you. But the thought alone makes him want to disappear. He can’t stay in this bathroom forever, even if that’s what his mind is telling him to do.

“Miss,” the door opens again, “The man from earlier, he said he’s your boyfriend, he wants to see you, are you alright with that?” you hesitate for a moment when you look at Rosie who’s sitting in the chair next to you, you nod.

The woman leaves for a moment and Jungkook walks in, he searches for you as soon as he walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge Yoongi or Rosie. He walks to your bedside and looks at the white bandage wrapped around your thigh.

“What did they say?” He’s not as pale as he was but his eyes are a little red. “Are you okay?”

“She’ll be on crutches for two weeks, but she can’t skate for at least a month,” She turns to Jungkook, “the wound was close to the artery, an inch difference and she would’ve bled out, no thanks to you.”

Silence befalls the room and even though she said that to make Jungkook wake up, Yoongi is the one who feels so bad about it. “I have to go, guys,” Yoongi suddenly speaks up, “feel better, Y/n, I’m sorry about all of this,” It’s not his fault, you remind him of that before he leaves.

“We just need your insurance,” The nurse comes back with a wheelchair within seconds, “the pharmacy you’d like your medicine sent to and you’re all set to go,” She helps you into the chair and rolls you out.

As they check you out, Rosie looks down at her phone, it’s almost two in the morning. You notice she looks tired as you hand them your insurance card, and she still has to pick up her parents in the morning, you don’t feel right keeping her here.

“Ro, go home,” You gently grasp her hand, “you have to pick up your parents in the morning, it’s getting late.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, thank you for everything, tell the girls I’ll call in the morning,” You know it takes everything in her not to stay but she knows it’s late and even if you’re both pissed at him, he can at least take you home. You get her to agree and you’re left with Jungkook and the nurse as they take you to his car.

“Are you okay, hon?” The nurse asks softly as Jungkook watches her help you into the passengers seat. You know what she means by that. You know how this probably looks to her, it doesn’t look like you’re in a good situation. But you reassure her that he’s going to take you home.

When he gets in the driver's seat and the nurse is back inside the ER, you can feel him staring at you. He swallows, hands gripping the wheel incredibly tight, “Look, I’m sorry this happened, I-”

“Take me home,” You cut him off, looking out of the window with the crutches at your side, “just take me home...”

The drive is quiet. Painfully quiet for him. He pulls into his normal parking space and when he gets out, he comes to your side. 

“Let me help you,” 

That’s the first thing he says to you, hand extended as if you’d actually take it. You’re not skilled with crutches, you shouldn’t have been so persistent on getting and going to the door without his help, but you were.

“I don’t want your help,” You mumble, hobbling inside after he opened the door with his key. He flips on the light and you sit on the couch to try to kick your shoes off, “you should go home,” 

“Y/n, please,” He closes the door behind him, “I know what you saw, I know it looked bad but I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Yeah, but you let some slut put her hands on you,” You forget trying to take off your shoes and you use your crutches to try to get to your room, “y’know, if you wanted to break up with me you could’ve just said it. If I’m not enough for you, you should have just told me.”

“You know you’re enough for me, don’t even talk like that. I don’t want to break up, why the fuck would I want that?” He follows you into your bedroom, easily catching up because you can’t get anywhere fast now. 

“I wasn’t thinking straight, but my mind was clear enough to know we didn’t have sex,” He’s in your face, “I’m sorry that it looked that way, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, don’t tell me what you think I want to hear,” You sit on your bed, again trying to kick-off your shoes but failing miserably, “just leave me alone.”

“You can’t even take your own fucking shoes off, you need help,“ He kneels down and you don’t fight when he takes them off for you, “don’t you trust me?”

You scoff, grabbing your crutches and trekking to your bathroom to get away from him, “Why should I,” You attempt to close the door but he stands in the doorway, “let go of the door.”

“No,” He’s getting upset now, you can feel it in the way each word leaves his mouth like a curse, “stop walking away! I fucking love you, that’s why you should trust me.”

“Wow, with a reason like that,” You let out a sarcastic laugh, standing in your bathrooms doorway. “I guess I should forget everything that happened tonight, huh?”

He rubs his temples, the headaches he’s had from an hour ago now acting up. “You know what? If you didn’t have trust issues, you could see that I’m telling you the truth, I swear to god I didn’t do anything.”

“I know I have trust issues,” You’re sick of standing in the bathroom, “after all the times I’ve been screwed over, you’ve given me plenty of reasons not to trust people.” You move past him, bumping into his shoulder.

“Hey,” He tries to grab you but hobble away from him and towards your bed, “would you stop walking away?! I’m trying to talk to you!” When he sees that you’re close enough to your bed, he takes the crutches from you and sits them on the floor behind him. 

“What the hell?-” Your mouth hangs open in shock as you grapple to hold on to him so you don’t fall. “Why would you do that!” 

“That was the only way I could stop you from walking away.” He towers above you, height and large frame reminding you that he can overpower you easily. “Don’t you see I’m being honest? Tell me why you’re acting like this.”

“You know I was hurt in my last relationship. Do I really have to spell it out for you? I dated for months before I realized I was being played. I couldn’t see what was happening right in front of my face, do you know how that felt? I felt so stupid,” You squeeze his arms, “I swore I’d never let anyone make me feel that way again.” 

He breathes in and out, trying not to fall apart at your teary confession, he chants in his mind, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I can’t go through that again, I love you...” You hold on to him, leg throbbing and tears falling down your cheeks in single drops, “Don’t make me look stupid for loving you.”

That hurt. 

“I won’t,” he wishes he had stayed home—he wishes he would have stayed with you. “I won’t, I promise I won’t.”

You gasp when his hands cup your face and he kisses you, open mouth sealing over yours without warning. You fall victim to this every time, you try to listen to the voice in your head that tells you to push him away, but how could you? You grab at his wrists to keep your self grounded and he holds you tighter, making you breathe nothing but him. His mouth goes bone dry and he feels sweat dripping down his back, he’s burning up and his heart is beating out of his chest.

“Jungkook,” You manage to breathe out, and you plop down on the bed, “you’re sweating like crazy.”

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m gonna pass out,” Suddenly, he rips off his shirt and tosses it somewhere, now revealing the sheen of sweat that’s been under his shirt.

“Are you okay?...What you took, have you ever taken it before?...” Worry shakes your voice.

“Yeah, this used to happen sometimes, give me a second,” He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the water turn on. Somehow, you managed to stumble over to the bathroom with the help of the wall. Jungkook is standing at the shower, the water on cold as he dunks his upper body under it with a groan of relief.

You watch as he grabs a towel from the rack and dries his face and hair. You watch as he dries the water off his body, face still red but he looks better.

“I’m sorry, this is one of the reasons I stopped using that shit,” He sits the towel on the counter, heavy ids landing on your frame in the doorway. For the first time, he sees the bandage on your leg in his right mind and it pains him. 

Noticing that you weren’t using the crutches he threw away earlier, he comes to your aid. “Your leg, don’t stand with it like that, you need to have it propped up,” For the second time tonight, he picks you up and carries you to you out of the bathroom. “It must hurt.”

“It does,” You hesitantly unwrap your arms from his neck and he lays you down, “it hurts a lot.” With expectant eyes, you watch him circle around your bed to get to your drawers. He pulls out a shirt and some shorts, sitting them besides you.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters, handing you the shirt so you can put it on while he helps replace your bloodied ones, “I wish he would have stabbed me, I fucking deserved it, not you.” He’s absolutely right.

His hand rests on the bandage and he looks up at you, eyes so tired. Reaching over you, he takes one of your pillows and props it under your leg, making sure it's elevated at a comfortable angle. He sits on the edge of the bed, one arm across your body, his eyes shutting when he presses his forehead to yours. Desperately, he kisses you again. His damp hair dangles on your forehead and his necklace drapes over your neck the more he leans down, its cool on your skin. His warm body engulfs you, his sheer heaviness making you weak. He has a special ability to surround your senses and drown you in his energy, and you sink happily.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, “I hate that we always end up like this, I shouldn’t put us through this...” Brushing your hair away from your face, he leans, in his nose a tinge red and his eyes teary, “but when I’m with you-...When I have you, I don’t have to see myself anymore and it feels right. I hate myself without...” Tears stream down his cheeks and a few drop on your cheeks. His chest heaves against you when he shakily breathes in. He drops his head in your chest like a child and starts to cry. 

“Jungkook,” You run your fingers through his hair and your eyes get misty when a pained whine leaves his mouth. 

 “I-” he hiccups against your t-shirt. “I’m sorry that this is what it cost to love me, but I’m not shit without you. I’m nothing with you...”

Sitting here, patching myself up, crying over what's left, 'cause without you I ain't shit, but no pressure. Guess I gotta learn my lesson.

[simsadventures]

Little Children (Bucky Barnes Oneshot)

Summary: Bucky plays PlayStation with the boys, and as the loser has to steal your most praised possession. You are not too happy about it, and Bucky tries to make it up to you.

Warnings: fluff, dares, stealing, swearing, little angst (I guess), kissing, implied smut Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader Word Count: 2383 A/N: This story was requested through Followers Appreciation Challenge I did a while ago, the prompt being A: But he told me to do it  B: And if he told you to jump out of the window, would you do it too? (it will be in bold in the text). Hope the anon who requested this will enjoy it, as well as the rest of you guys. xx

Edit: You can find the sequel to this story, here, Joke’s on You.

Masterlist

Your heart was beating like crazy. You woke up after almost 24 hours of sleep because your last mission took a toll on you. You were sent to Japan to help to stop a gang terrorising Tokyo for the past few months. It was a relatively easy mission, mainly because you had Iron Man behind your back. You were typically sent to a mission with your Alpha, Bucky, and the Captain, but you all thought it was only good for the team to split up the usual partners.

Even though it was nothing you two, alongside with Clint, couldn’t handle, but you couldn’t sleep for three days. Running around the city, and getting to the gang’s boss took more time than you expected.

You didn’t even come too hurt. You had few bruises, here and there, and one probably broken rib, but other than that, you were perfectly fine. So the sleep was the only thing you were really missing.

Bucky was worried, as always, when you went on a mission without him. It was his Alpha nature. He hated to be separated from you, and even more so if it meant you had to go to a mission without him right there to kill anyone who even tries to look at you the wrong way. He saw how tired the whole team came, but calmed a little, when he saw you came in one piece, still smelling like his beloved Omega.

He fell asleep with you, but after 8 hours, the sleepiness was gone, and after another 4 he decided that he didn’t need to watch you sleep for God knows how long. He made you a little sandwich, knowing you would wake up starving.

He then went to the common room, chat with Sam, or maybe play something on PlayStation with the kid. Peter showed him a few good games, and they played FIFA or Grand Theft Auto from time to time.

That afternoon was one of them, so they paired up, leaving Bucky with Sam, while Steve got Peter. They always made their playing interesting, somehow. This particular afternoon, they agreed that the losing team would have to steal something off of someone. The someone would be chosen according to the losing side.

Suffice to say, it wasn’t Bucky’s luckiest afternoon, and even if he and Sam tried to do whatever it took (even pushing Peter from the sofa, or attacking Steve when he wanted to shoot), they still lost. They both hoped they would have to steal Tony’s mask or something like that, but Steve wanted them to suffer a little more.

“Nope, no stealing from Tony this time, punk. You will steal from your Omega.” Bucky’s jaw dropped. He wanted to oppose but knew that Steve wouldn’t budge. He didn’t want to steal anything of yours.

First and foremost, he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of your rage. He always laughed at the people who had to face you when angry. Even though you were smaller than most of the people in the compound, nobody was scarier mad than you. Steve knew that because he got his ass beaten many times by you.

“Can I like, bring you her toothbrush or something? That it?” He tried to stay hopeful, but the look on Steve’s face told him that he should lose all his hope altogether.

“Haha, no! I want you to bring me the necklace her mother gave her. She can have it back, of course, but I want you to bring it to me.”

The look of pure horror on Bucky’s face made Steve laugh out loud for real. He loved how his friend was scared of his Omega. Hell, Steve was scared of you, but that wasn’t the point. You were always so nice to Bucky, and he always got away with everything, and Steve was tired of it. He wanted to see Bucky squirm under your gaze, just like the rest of the team.

“Punk, you can’t be serious! She will bite my fucking head off if she wakes up without the necklace on her neck!”

“Oh, please. She is your Omega, have a little faith.”

“I have all the faith in the world in her, in this particular moment that she’ll fucking eat me alive, pal. And what about Sam, huh? How come he doesn’t have to do anything?”

Sam was trying to blend in with the wall behind him because he really didn’t want to go and steal anything from you. He liked himself too much for that.

“It’s a dare for the both of you, but I don’t think you would want another Alpha ogling your sleeping Omega,” Bucky growled involuntarily at the image, and let his head fall onto his chest. He was screwed. So fucking screwed.

—-

Bucky sneaked into your shared room, only to smile, seeing your still sleeping body. He loved to watch you when you slept. The slightly opened mouth, completely relaxed face, because unlike him, your sleep was calm and actually provided you with an escape. Your body would always try to find his while you were sleeping, if not pushing against him completely, then at least putting an arm around his chest, or crossing your legs so that one of them was touching him.

You were on your side, which suited Bucky’s plan. He needed to get down the necklace, run to Steve, show it to him and return to you before you wake up. Easy-peasy. He just had to make sure you wouldn’t wake up due to him touching you. And as you were super sensitive to his touch, that could pose as a problem in his plan.

You were now cuddling Bucky’s pillow, pressing it against for face and chest, inhaling his scent. It made Bucky’s heart swell knowing his Omega tried to be close to him even if he wasn’t there. He tiptoed towards the bed, and very slowly dipped his knee on it, checking if you were still asleep. When you didn’t move, he put both his knees on the bed and bent down right behind you. You stirred a little, probably sensing the body heat coming off of your Alpha, and you unconsciously tried to get closer.

He lightly touched your neck, and a low moan sounded from your lips. He had to take a deep breath and try and not think about your body being so close to his and the noises coming from you.

He managed to get the necklace off of your neck, but even then, couldn’t move from his almost spooning position. He wanted to be near his Omega, but a dare was a dare, so he pressed a light kiss on the back of your neck, quickly stood up and all but ran out of the room, trying not to change his mind.

He ran across the compound towards the common room, where all the other three were waiting on him. There was a smile plastered across Bucky’s face because he couldn’t help but think his plan was going great, and that all he had to do was show the necklace to Steve and he would let him go. But Bucky probably forgot who Steve was, or how most dares went with him.

Steve quickly snatched the necklace and towards the other end of the room. “Hey, punk, give it back! The dare was for me to bring it here, I gotta return it before she realises-“ Bucky stopped in the middle of his sentence, a weird sensation overcoming him. A sensation he only knew when you were around him. And for the first time since you two mated, he really hoped you were anywhere near him.

But when he slowly turned around, he could see your still a little sleepy, dishevelled, and definitely pissed self. He smiled up, trying to cover up what he did with his charm, but by the look on your face, there was nothing in this world that could save him from your rage.

“Before she realises what, Bucky? C’mon, finish the sentence, love!” You growled the last part, still looking intently at Bucky. You were well aware that it was Steve who was now holding your mother’s necklace, but because you knew Bucky was in your room not 5 minutes ago (and because you were quite sure he wouldn’t let anyone else in), you were sure the blame was on Bucky.

“Look, doll, it’s all just a game-”

“Just a game, Bucky? Why the fuck would you need to steal my fucking necklace, huh? Are you out of your damn mind?”

“But Steve told me to do it!” As soon as the sentence left Bucky’s mouth, he wished he could turn back time. He blushed like a little child, burning holes into the ground underneath him, trying not to look at you.

“Oh, then that’s alright, isn’t it? Steve told you so!! And if Steve told you to jump out of the window, would you do it too?” You were yelling now, pissed that he would even dare to use the old “he told me so” excuse.

“Well, I mean, he is my Captain, doll, so if he told me to-“

“But he isn’t your fucking Captain when it comes to playing some stupid games!” You could hear someone snickering behind you, and when you turned around, you could see Sam and Peter, trying to hide their laughs behind coughs.

“Oh, you two idiots think this is funny? Well, I guess it is super funny, that my mate would rather listen to Mr America here, than thinking about what his mate might be feeling, waking up without the only thing that was left behind by her family. I think it’s hilarious that someone would even think of such dare, or whatever this was. ’T’was you, Steve, wasn’t it?”

There was dead silence in the room. The boys probably realise that it would be more ok if they ran around the compound with your lingerie on than stealing the only material thing that mattered to you.

Steve lowered his head and quickly brought the necklace to you. You snatched it from him and gave him a little smack across the top of his head. “Fucking children, that’s what you are. Next time you wanna be a bunch of idiots, don’t involve me, will you? And you,” you pointed at Bucky, “since you’re so keen on listening to what the Captain here has to say to you, you can spend more quality time with him, maybe during the night? ‘Cause you sure as hell aren’t welcomed in my bed!”

You turned around and marched away, clutching the necklace in your hand.

The boys all huffed out a breath, looking in the direction of you leaving. Sam and Peter were good, you didn’t yell at them that much, but Steve, and especially Bucky looked like lost puppies. They knew you’d be pissed, but what surprised them and hurt them the most, were the tears threatening to escape your eyes. They hoped you would just yell at Bucky, and then laugh at the joke with them. But when Steve realised that if someone stole his compass with Peggy’s photo, he would probably kill that someone, he felt even worse.

And Bucky just wanted to die then and there. He, who promised not to hurt you and to protect you from everything, couldn’t protect you from one simple thing- his own childishness. He looked at the boys, muttered some pretty nasty swear words, and ran after you, hoping you didn’t have the time to lock the door.

You hadn’t, and when Bucky walked in, he could see the necklace still in your hand, and your gaze hazy, probably thinking about the time you saw your parents for the last time. He closed the door silently and went to sit down by you.

You didn’t even look up, and you didn’t have the energy to fight him, when he hugged your shoulders with one hand, pulling you in his chest.

“I’m so sorry, doll. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and in the midst of the adrenaline and all, I didn’t realise what I was doing. I really didn’t mean to upset you, Omega. Here,” he extended his hand, waiting for you to give him the necklace, which, after a while, you obliged, “let me put it back where it belongs and I swear to you, never to touch it again.”

“It’s not about touching it, Bucky. If you woke me up, which you did anyway, by the way, and told me that Steve was being a little shit, I would give it to you and would cause a scene for Steve’s amusement. But the shock when I woke up, without the little chain, I almost had a heart attack. For a second, I thought I lost it somewhere on the mission, and that I would have to fly to Japan. I just… I have a deep connection to this little chain, and I understand it might seem like nonsense but-“

“It’s not nonsense, sweetheart! I’m sorry I made you worry. I would love to promise you that I’ll never act like a five-year-old, but we both know that would be a lie. So, I promise that when it involves you, I’ll always consult you. Ok?”

You looked into his eyes and knew you were a goner. You could never stay mad at him long. The adoration you felt towards this man knew to boundaries, and you didn’t complain, because you were well aware that it worked vice versa as well.

You kissed his lips, and he huffed against you. He was ecstatic he didn’t have to sleep at Steve’s, or somewhere else, that he could enjoy the closeness of his Omega. He grabbed the back of your neck with his right arm, while his left squeezed your thigh a little.

Your first reaction was to open your legs, and Bucky smiled into the kiss.

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and whispered to your ear, while nuzzling the side of your head, “Let me apologise properly, doll, will you?”

The only answer you gave him was bringing his hand closer to where you needed him the most, and Bucky was more than happy to oblige.

Challenge tags:

 @eileenalone

[blossom-hwa]

Fall [Rise] - MARK |Swing!|

No more spoilers for MCU movies, I believe :) Enjoy your spoiler-free but angst-filled chapter! Once again, thank you @deathbykpopboys​ for inspiring this series :)

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, Spiderman!au

Triggers: a lot of cursing, violence, PANIC ATTACKS IN THIS CHAPTER (I in no way meant to romanticize these triggers. If you feel I did, please let me know and I will fix it.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Somewhere, somehow, amidst the chaos of existence, you and Mark remember that you’re not alone.

Arc { 1 - Drifting Apart | 2 - Coming Home } >> Fall { 1 - Spiral | 2 - Rise } >> Release 

NCT Masterlist | Swing!

Mark knows you aren’t okay. He can see it in the bags under your eyes (which are somehow worse than his), the tired, slightly haunted way you look at everything, and how you’re speaking less. And when you do talk, it’s a lot quieter than before.

He just doesn’t know how to broach the topic. Every time he asks if you’re all right, you just smile and say you’re fine.

So you keep going on patrols with him, even though he knows you shouldn’t. Mark feels guilty, knowing that his increased patrol time is probably part of why you look so terrible, but he can’t stop. And if he doesn’t stop, you won’t either.

Because who’s going to help the little guy if he isn’t there? If you aren’t there?

He still reads the articles. He’s just gotten better at hiding it. He knows what people say about you two – the Daily Bugle, the New York Times, sometimes even the Wall Street Journal. And the articles just keep coming as the two of you stay out longer and longer to fight crime. No matter how many criminals you help put behind bars, people just want you to keep doing more and more and more.

Mark is exhausted the night he gets shot. A physics test earlier in the day took a lot out of him mentally, while he spent a good part of the afternoon hauling supplies from Professor Tuan’s truck to the lab. By the time he climbs onto the roof to meet you, his brain feels a little mushy.

You don’t look much better. Your voice is slightly hoarse – not in a sick way, but in a way that tells him you’ve been crying – but you deny everything he throws at you and just start swinging away.

(He’s a hypocrite. He keeps telling you to knock off patrolling if you’re feeling bad, but he won’t take nights off for himself. He wants to take care of you, but he won’t take care of himself.)

The gunmen you two fight tonight are trained, much better shots than most of the amateur muggers and criminals you’ve fought before. It takes a long time to subdue all of them.

Well, you and Mark think it’s all of them. In the space of his muddled brain, Mark thinks there were only five when you started.

Apparently, there were six.

In the darkness of night, Mark sees the outline of the bullet hurtling toward your exposed back. Your danger sense kicks in, he can tell by your widened eyes and your beginning attempt to dodge, but he’s already there before he knows it, shoving you away and taking the bullet into his shoulder.

Fuck. He didn’t mean for that to happen. He meant to push you away and get himself away, too, but he was too unprepared. Too tired. 

Too slow.

Mark doesn’t remember much of what happens immediately after. There’s pain, a lot of it. He remembers you calling someone – probably Mr. Stark, now that he thinks of it – and cleaning the wound as best as you can. There’s something gold and red that carries him off, which, in hindsight, was also probably Mr. Stark in his Iron Man suit.

It’s the last Sunday before winter break ends. Mark wakes up groggy and confused in a bed at Stark Tower with Mr. Stark bending over him and cleaning the wound on his shoulder. Then he passes out again.

Later, Mr. Stark will tell Mark that he’s lucky that a) the bullet flew right through his shoulder, b) the wound isn’t as serious as others he’s seen, and c) you used to read a lot of crime novels and therefore know more or less how to clean a bullet wound.

Mark feels lucky for the third part. He’s always been lucky to have you there.

The first and second parts? Not so much. This thing hurts.

He spends most of the day in Stark Tower, with Mr. Stark fussing around bandages and giving Mark really strong painkillers that knock him out. You appear at some point but disappear sometime before he falls unconscious again, which isn’t nice. He wants you here. He wants to hold your hand.

When he wakes up again, he gets his wish. It’s four in the afternoon and the pain in his shoulder has dwindled significantly. You’re passed out on a chair next to his bed, his hand limply held in yours.

Bright afternoon light streams in from the window, illuminating your sleeping face. Mark sits up in bed, pleasantly surprised that his shoulder barely hurts even when he moves it. Perks of speedy healing. For a moment, he just drinks in the sight of your face, for once calm.

He took a bullet for you, he thinks. Still, though, he didn’t mean to take the bullet at all.

Would he have pushed you away, even if he knew he was going to get shot? Would he have pushed you away, even if he knew the bullet was going to hit someplace more lethal?

Mark’s heart thumps as his fingers curl around yours protectively.

Yes, he thinks. He still would have. He wouldn’t have changed a thing he did.

You begin to stir, probably from the added pressure of his hand in yours. As your eyes flutter open, still glazed over with sleep, Mark realizes.

He likes you. Much more than he ever liked Lia. He’s liked you for a long time, he just never realized it.

Maybe he even loves you.

It explains why he didn’t like thinking about you and Lia together. It wasn’t because you were his best friend and she was his crush. It was because while he liked Lia, he loved you much more. But because he’d felt that way towards you for so long, he just thought it was because you were his best friend.

He never loved Lia, though. Not the way he thinks he loves you.

When you realize where you are, you immediately sit up straight on the chair and fix him with a glare. “Don’t ever do that again!” you snap, and for a second, Mark gets a glimpse of your old, fiery self.

And then because he’s still as awkward and stupid as before, all he says is, “What?”

“Don’t fucking get shot!” you yell. “Don’t jump in front of bullets for me! Just –” you sigh, pulling at your hair with trembling hands – “Don’t scare me like that ever again!”

Mark just smiles as you continue yelling, berating him for being stupid and getting injured and freaking you out and all. After so many weeks of watching you fade into silence, it’s refreshing to see you so worked up and snappy again.

Call him a masochist. But he loves it.

Just as he loves you.

. . . . .

Mark took a bullet for you, and you honestly don’t know what to do with yourself. You have never, not once in your life, wanted your best friend to get injured and nearly die for you.

Okay, maybe you’re exaggerating. According to Mr. Stark, Mark probably wasn’t going to die from the wound in his shoulder. But what if the bullet had hit somewhere else? What if Mei and Johnny had found out? Well, they didn’t because you and Mark usually leave the house before they even wake up on Sunday Stark days, but still.

Thoughts like these are the reason why the second you get home, you walk into your room and start hyperventilating.

You’re tired of the panic attacks. You hate them. They’re terrifying, they hurt, and they exhaust you to the point that you can barely get out of bed after one of them. You would definitely try avoiding things that caused them if you even knew what was causing them.

Some triggers are easy to pinpoint. Loud noises. Small, confined spaces. Avoiding them is the problem. You can maybe stay away from claustrophobic areas, but loud noises could be anywhere. A locker slammed too loudly. A textbook dropped on the floor. Explosions in the lab.

But then there are the times when you’re not doing anything at all and your chest closes up. Maybe you’re lying on your bed. Maybe you’re studying at your desk. The shortness of breath comes up quickly and without warning, and then you’re hugging your knees to your chest on the floor.

Mark has had three obvious brushes with death – the confrontation at the university, the abandoned industrial park, and now the bullet. He seems to be doing fine.

Meanwhile, you startle at loud noises and feel like death half the time.

Deep inside of the depths of your mind, you want someone for comfort. Johnny or Mark, preferably, or Mei or Mr. Stark, even. But Mark’s got the same workload as you on his plate. Mei’s always working at the hospital. Mr. Stark’s too important to deal with your shit. Johnny works day and night just to take care of you. He dropped out of university for you. Also, you’re still not talking.

All of them are so strong and confident and brave all the time – how can you even think of burdening them with your stupid baggage?

Thoughts swirl around your mind as you take off your suit. All you really want to do at the moment is curl up under your blanket and close your eyes for several years.

That’s a coma, your brain helpfully supplies.

Yeah. That’s the point.

But you have a calculus test, a French quiz, and an English paper to turn in tomorrow. Professor Wang thinks he’s on the verge of a breakthrough with one of his experiments, so he wants you in the lab as well. You need to edit your research paper for a competition to submit by Friday, there’s an AcaDec regional competition on Sunday, and you have to patrol.

You don’t notice the tears have started slipping down your face until one of them drops onto the calculus textbook in front of you. With a firm sigh and a deep breath, you force the remaining tears away, settling your eyes on the page.

There’s no time for crying. You have to study.

That’s how Johnny finds you later, hunched over at three a.m., nearly falling asleep over of your old laptop. He literally picks you up and carries you two feet to your bed before tucking you in and kissing your forehead like Mom used to when you were five.

You start crying, mumbling incoherent apologies and swearing you never thought of Stark as a replacement for him or Dad or Mom, that nothing can ever replace the three of them. Between tears, you beg for his forgiveness, promising you’ll tell the truth sometime soon, you swear.

Johnny shakes slightly as he holds you close, his own tears dripping onto your shoulder as he gives his own apologies for being pig-headed and rude, for feeling insecure and upset that you can’t trust him. He promises to wait, to just trust in you until you can tell him everything.

Everyone’s always taking care of you, you think when Johnny leaves. Everyone’s always helping you, giving you support, giving up things to care for you.

What have you ever done for them besides cause more problems?

With that happy thought, your brain shuts down and you fall asleep.

. . . . .

Mark doesn’t know how you do it. He doesn’t know how you take everything the world throws at you and still come out at the top with perfect grades.

Of course, he knows that grades aren’t the most important thing in life. But in this moment, as he stares at the bright red F circled at the top of his Spanish worksheet, it feels like they are.

There’s no scribbled “see me!” below the large letter grade he doesn’t want to look at, which Mark is thankful for. This is the first time he’s gotten such a low grade in this class. It’s just that he didn’t pay much attention to the lesson, too tired from patrolling late into the night (or was it the morning?).

Priorities are the problem. Mark has a lot of things going on in his life and he’s always been bad at prioritizing because he always wants to do everything perfectly and right. AcaDec? He always tries hard to be the top physics guy. School? He’s competing with you for valedictorian. Lab? He’s leading multiple projects, several of which have won prizes at research competitions. Patrolling? What more can he do with that other than swing around Queens even later into the night?

Mark doesn’t know what to prioritize first.

But clearly, school has unconsciously taken a backseat to everything else. Now that he thinks about it, he’s been taking less time to study for certain classes, like Spanish and English. He could justify it with the fact that he plans to be a STEM major and those subjects won’t be of as much use to him as calculus and physics and biology, but he feels like nothing can justify the red F staring up at him.

It’s just a worksheet. Mark knows it isn’t worth a large part of his grade – barely anything, in fact. But it’s a wakeup call.

I have to do better.

How, though? Everything academia-related takes up most of his normal waking hours. Patrolling takes up his ungodly waking hours.

The obvious answer is to cut back on patrol time. But how can he do that? How can he possibly value his grades over someone’s life?

Mark sighs, putting the worksheet into his Spanish folder. He’ll just have to add some more ungodly waking hours to his study schedule.

“You good?” you ask later that day. The two of you are on the train back home after AcaDec practice, and he guesses the dejection from earlier is still showing on his face. You lean carefully against side, careful not to disturb his wound, and squeeze his hand.

Fuck. It’s in moments like this where it hits Mark just how far he’s fallen for you. Your confidence, your kindness, your bravery, your unwillingness to settle for life’s shit. Everything about you, Mark thinks, even your quick temper and sharp tongue and your countless other flaws, is something beautiful to him.

How did he never realize it before?

“I’m fine,” he replies, trying for a smile. Then, because he can’t lie to you: “Just got an F on a Spanish worksheet.”

He tries to laugh it off in the moment, but you don’t smile or even make a joke. “We can cut down patrol time if you need to study,” you say seriously.

Mark wants to say yes. He really does. It’s like he’s a candle, and fire is burning at him from both ends. He doesn’t know if he can keep this up.

But if you can deal with it, why can’t he? He shakes his head. “I’m fine, honestly.” He squeezes your hand. “I promise.”

It’s a lie. You know it’s a lie and he does too. But it’s one of those lies that’s just too difficult to call out, so you just lean into his shoulder as the subway lurches, letting him feel your warmth by his side.

“You can tell me anything, you know?” you say over the clatter of the train car.

Mark’s heart clenches. “I know.”

. . . . .

There’s another brand of article that’s really pissing you off. It’s the kind that praises Spiderman while pointing out all the flaws in Silk.

You don’t remember exactly when you find the first one. You’re just kind of scrolling through an op-ed in the Daily Bugle that’s describing the disturbingly positive correlation between Spiderman and Silk’s appearances and the crime rate, and the link pops up as something suggested.

Well, you’re already in a shitty mood, you think. Might as well take it a bit further.

It’s laughable, most of it. There’s a lot of blatant sexism that you can brush away quickly. But one thing that hits you really hard is the fact that you like to talk shit during your fights.

While the article lauds Mark for being silent and serious during fights, it bashes your inability to shut up as you throw punches. It then goes into detail about how you clearly don’t take crime-fighting seriously, that you’re just like a stupid little kid (well, not in those words, but pretty much the same thing), and that “Silk should leave the handling of criminals to good, upstanding citizens who won’t embarrass Queens as much as her loud mouth does.”

The first thought that pops into your mind is, which fucking assholes are the ones blabbing about me cursing all the time? You didn’t know criminals were such tattletales.

Then you remember several of your recent, more public fights with the weirdest people ever (seriously? Doc Ock? What even was that?), and you remember the spitfire that your mouth was in those moments.

Do I really curse too much?

It makes you self-conscious. You know there are several teachers and students at school who dislike you for your loud mouth (cough, Ms. Wilson), but you never really took them seriously.

But now that people online are noticing it too…

For the first few days, you try to ignore the article. But every time you open your mouth to snap back something funny or curse someone out, it’s like the article just slams into your mind with full force and you snap your mouth shut.

God, it’s something like having a parent next to you while you’re trying to talk with your friends. Just as a curse builds up on your tongue, the article comes to mind and you shut up.

And then when you start falling silent, it becomes apparent just how much you really curse. It honestly surprises you a little bit – you didn’t realize that “fuck” was such a huge part of your vocabulary until now.

So, slowly, bit by bit, you stop talking as much. If you don’t talk, you won’t curse. You won’t bother anyone. Because if a few fucks and shits are that annoying to people on the Internet, who knows how much they annoy people in real life?

No one really notices, you think. People just carry on the conversation like you’re not even there, only turning around when they want to ask something specifically to you. You won’t lie – it hurts a little. It makes you realize just how easily replaceable you are in some people’s lives.

A couple of people do notice. You’ll always be thankful for your immediate friend group, you think. Haechan and Mark deliberately engage you in conversation when you fall silent. Jihyo often comes over then too, and sometimes Yeri.

But only one actually reaches out to you, asks why you aren’t talking so much.

Mark startles you a bit when he asks. He’s often asked if you’re all right, if you’re feeling fine because you look a little tired, but this time, he pinpoints it exactly. “Why don’t you talk anymore?” he asks as the two of you walk from the university labs to the train station.

“I’m talking right now, Mark,” you reply quickly, though you feel slightly off kilter.

“You know what I mean.” He stops walking. “You’re not as… loud? You don’t talk unless someone else explicitly talks to you, and even then, you don’t, like, curse. Or laugh. Or anything.” He pauses. “You don’t yell when we patrol, either.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you try to digest his words. A huge wave of emotion that you can’t even begin to decipher makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away. “Do you…” You chew your lip, then decide to just go for it. “Do you think it’s annoying when I curse? Or that it pisses people off?”

“What?” Now Mark looks confused. “Where did you get that from?” His eyes narrow. “Was it another article?”

Your wince tells him everything. “Y/N,” he groans, slapping his face. “I thought you stopped reading those!”

“Well, it’s not like you stopped either!” you snap defensively.

Mark’s shoulders sag. “Fair. But… Jesus.” He shakes his head. “Whatever article even mentioned that is stupid as fuck.”

“A lot of things are stupid,” you mumble. “Doesn’t stop them from getting at us.”

A short silence follows.

“Let me see the article,” Mark says.

It doesn’t take long for you to bring it up on your phone. As he scrolls through, his eyebrows rise higher and higher on his forehead until he’s finished. There’s a disgusted, yet slightly amused look on his face as he hands the phone back to you. “You know this is, like, blatantly sexist, right?” he says.

“Yeah, I know.” You shove the phone into your pocket. “But it’s just… after I read that, I realized just how much I do curse every day. And if people online were getting annoyed by it, why wouldn’t people in real life be annoyed too?”

Mark just gathers you into a hug, crushing you against his chest. You relax into his warmth. “Don’t listen to them,” he murmurs into your ear. “I think you’re hilarious. Your cursing is funny as fuck. I always wish I had your ability to come up with insults on the fly. Remember Doc Ock?”

You snort, voice muffled against his shirt. “How could I forget?”

“Yeah, and do you think I’m ever going to forget you calling him a ‘fucking nightmare straight out of a tentacle porn horror flick’?” Mark pulls back a little to look you in the face. He’s smiling broadly. “The only reason I’m quiet during fights is because I can’t think of anything worth saying that’s funny. That’s your job, and I won’t let you quit.”

A short laugh bubbles out of your chest. “Fine.”

“Now can we both make a pact to stop reading those stupid articles?” Mark asks, fully letting you go. You miss the warmth of his touch around your shoulders. “They’re shortening my lifespan, but the only way I’ll be able to stop reading them is if you promise not to read them either.”

“You make it sound like we’re going cold turkey from drugs,” you retort. “But fine. I do need to stop.”

“Pinky promise?” Mark holds out his pinky like the two of you are six again, promising not to tell each other’s guardians that you played in the dirt again (like they couldn’t already tell from the brown spots all over your clothes). His eyes sparkle.

An unknown emotion builds in your chest, so strong and powerful it almost knocks you over. You link your pinky with his and press your thumbs together, smiling widely for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

“Pinky promise.”

. . . . .

Mark has had panic attacks before. He used to have them several times a month after Uncle Ben died, but after almost ten years, they haven’t resurfaced.

Then one day, several months after Germany, he’s walking through the university halls to Tuan’s lab when he feels the familiar, yet unfamiliar sensation of choking on his own breath.

It’s never been like this before, he thinks after he’s pulled himself out of that dizzying haze of pain. There always used to be a cause that he could pinpoint. Something black that looked like a gun. A man’s bald head that looked like the murderer’s. A spot of blood on a white sidewalk.

This time, he’s just walking down a hall. There’s nothing he can really see that would trigger an attack. Hell, nothing in the university even really reminds him of his uncle’s death. Guns stopped triggering him a while ago (thank God, or he couldn’t be fighting crime at night). He hasn’t been fazed by blood in several years.

So what’s wrong with him?

Maybe it’s just stress, he postulates, standing up on shaky legs. He’s got a lot to deal with this year, what with preparing for competitions and college applications and all. It’ll get better soon. This is probably just a one-time thing.

Except it isn’t.

He has another panic attack at home as he’s lying in bed, then another while he’s trying to cook something in the kitchen. After almost burning himself while turning off the stove, he just lies down on the kitchen floor, not caring how gross this position is, and starts reevaluating his life.

God, he’d forgotten how much these things hurt. 

His old therapist told him a lot about panic attacks, how they could be brought on by many things like trauma and stress. Mark knows his trauma isn’t fully gone, but most of his triggers have faded. It’s probably stress, and now that he thinks of it, he has a lot to be stressed about.

So he knows what’s going on. Telling someone would probably help, but it’s not like Aunt Mei could afford a therapist again, so what’s the point? His only option is to keep going.

So he forges on through life. The fear of another attack keeps him on edge, but he’s learned from his younger years that he can’t really avoid them. He just has to keep going. Keep living. There’s no point in telling anyone.

Until he walks into you suffering an attack of your own.

He literally almost walks into you. He’s just opened the door to your apartment – he has a spare key, and you weren’t letting him in – and you’re crouched just inside the door, trembling and sweating, breathing far too quickly and shallowly to be normal.

Mark’s heart seizes. A sort of sick sense of relief floods his mind when he realizes what’s going on – he isn’t alone.

Then he feels totally, utterly ashamed. Under no circumstance would he ever want someone to undergo a panic attack like him.

He racks his mind for the tips his doctor gave Mei to help get him through his own episodes. Keep calm. Short, simple sentences. Avoid surprises. Slow their breathing.

“Y/N, I’m here,” Mark hears himself say. He sits down a short distance away, keeping a steady countenance even though he’s freaking out on the inside. “Can I hold your hand?”

You don’t say anything, just weakly raise an arm. Your breath is just as fast as before.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking it. His thumb starts soothing patterns over your palm. “Okay. I’m going to start tracing squares onto your hand. If you can, follow my tracing with your breath. Each corner is one breath, okay?”

There’s the slightest nod. He starts tracing.

Mark doesn’t know how long he sits there, helping calm you down from your panic. Aunt Mei told him his panic attacks would last around fifteen minutes, but they never felt that short. He just keeps tracing your palm, offering small encouragements every now and then, and eventually, your breathing starts to slow until it’s back to normal.

He scoots closer, bringing your head to his chest. You just lean against him limply, like a rag doll, breathing heavily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mark finally murmurs, all thoughts of your group project gone. The only thing he’s focused on right now is making sure you’re okay. “Actually, are you tired? We don’t have to talk right now.”

“It’s fine. Not too exhausted. Just… didn’t want to worry anyone,” you mumble into his shirt. Another heavy breath. “Weak. You didn’t look like you were having problems, but –” you gasp – “stupid stuff. Kept setting me off. Loud noises, small spaces…”

Mark’s heart sinks. “How long?” he asks.

“First one was the day Mr. Stark came over,” you answer.

Jesus Christ. You’ve been having these panic attacks for months already, and you never told anyone. Mark feels a little like crying. “What happened then?”

“Explosion in the lab,” you gasp. “Wang messed something up, it exploded. I started hyperventilating but Yuta pulled me out before I spiraled.”

A memory surfaces in Mark’s mind. “So that day you ran to the bathroom at school…” he trails off, feeling sick.

How did he not notice before?

“Someone banged a locker too loudly,” you mumble. “Sounded like an explosion. Something crashing.”

Trauma. There’s no doubt about it. “Were you remembering… homecoming? When the building got dropped on us?” Mark presses gently.

You nod against his chest.

Oh, God. “I wish you’d told somebody,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

“I wanted to.” Your breath is back, but you sound close to tears. “It just felt like you were handling it so much better than I was. You were going through school fine, but I was panicking over just fucking loud noises, and then I also started panicking over nothing at all.” You heave a deep breath. “I thought I was dying.”

Mark shifts you in his arms into a more comfortable position. “I used to have panic attacks after Uncle Ben died,” he states.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Anything that looked remotely like a gun used to set me off. Black staplers, hole punchers, stuff like that. Blood, too. Once, a bald man sent me spiraling. This was mostly before we met, so I didn’t think you’d know.”

“I didn’t,” you say, lifting your head to stare up at him. “Mark…”

“I started having panic attacks again about a month ago.” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “The first once just came out of nowhere. I was walking down one of the halls to the lab. My old therapist told me attacks can come randomly, just out of stress. So, nothing to be ashamed about there.”

You sit up, though you still hold Mark’s hand for strength. “If you say so, how come you didn’t tell me?”

He laughs slightly. You’re feeling better, if you can be as snappy as this. “Same reason as you, I guess.” Mark smiles ruefully. “I thought you were handling things really well. You looked like you were sailing through school, even when I got that F in Spanish. So… I don’t know. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Burden me?” You scoff. “Shut up. You’re never a burden. Not to me.”

Something in Mark’s heart blossoms. “Y/N,” he starts, but he can’t say anything more.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask, voice smaller. It’s almost as if you’re scared of the answer, but it’s already on the tip of Mark’s tongue before you even finish the question.

“Of course not!” he snaps. “Never,” he adds, more gently.

“Good.” You smile. It’s wobbly and a little forced, but it’s a real smile. “If I’m not a burden to you, you’re not a burden to me. Tell me things, all right? And I’ll tell you.” You squeeze his chest between your arms.

Mark breathes a soft sigh as you close your eyes, pressing your head against his chest again. “All right,” he murmurs. “Are you going to tell Johnny?”

At that, you freeze. “N… no,” you finally reply, sounding choked. “Not… not yet.”

“You should,” Mark reprimands slightly.

“Then you should tell Mei,” you retort.

Stalemate. Mark sighs. “All right. At least I know now. But if it gets worse, I’ll tell him myself,” Mark warns.

“Fine. Same goes for you,” you say.

“Fine.” He pats your head and you wrinkle your nose like a bunny. Mark almost coos at the sight. “Let’s rest. Group project can get done later.”

“I like the way you think,” you say, stumbling on your way up.

Mark catches you, puts you upright, and smiles. “I’m glad you do.”

. . . . .

It’s one of those unusually slow days where you just want the day to end. The snow outside isn’t exciting anymore – in fact, it’s more slush than snow, which is gross – school is boring, and Wang isn’t in the lab today. Mark still has stuff to do for Tuan, though, so you end up walking home from the train station alone. You’re not patrolling today because neither Mei nor Johnny have late shifts tonight. Also, you’re really tired.

All of this gives you too much time to think, especially about the person who should be walking home right next to you.

Mark has always been someone easy to figure out, at least for you. He doesn’t talk as much as you, but when he does, he’s very sweet. He wears his emotions on his sleeve but in a subtler way than most. A lot of people can detect a change in his mood, but they can’t exactly pinpoint what mood he’s in.

You can, though. On day one, when the two of you met, you just clicked. You immediately understood each other. After almost ten years, none of that has changed.

Until now.

You sigh, taking your shoes off at the door. Johnny isn’t home yet, but he will be soon. You walk into your room and throw yourself on the bed to wait, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It’s totally Mark’s fault, you think wryly. He’s become confusing. How are you supposed to comprehend the swells of emotion you feel when he does something kind, or sweet, or just plain comforting?

Well, that doesn’t make sense. Mark’s been doing those things ever since you two were children in elementary school. So maybe not understanding him isn’t his fault. Maybe it’s yours.

Your thoughts turn to the time he found you during a panic attack, the comfort of his fingers tracing simple squares into the palm of your hand. It could have been a lot worse, you think, if he hadn’t been there. If he hadn’t held your hand and helped you through.

A rush of emotion fills your throat. You’re too tired to fight it, so you just let it wash through your mind. It feels… confusing, yes, because there’s too many strands of feelings to pick out of the wave, but it also feels nice. Gentle. Caressing, soft.

It feels like how Mark’s hand felt, loosely gripping yours.

That was just the last time you felt like this, you remember. There were other times, too. As you run through the memories, you realize those moments aren’t as few and far between as you originally thought. Laughing as you walk home from the train station. Awkwardly stuttering while stealing Captain America’s shield in Germany. The hug and the pinky promise from a few weeks ago.

Maybe this is just what best friends do. Maybe this is just what happens when you’ve known someone for so long they’re basically a part of you.

But the title “best friend” doesn’t feel like it’s enough anymore. Yeah, Mark is your best friend and he’ll always have that title in his arsenal. It doesn’t encompass everything, though.

No, best friend is far from covering it all.

You like him. You like Mark.

As something much more than a best friend.

Your throat constricts as your mind races. For so long, you’ve ignored every sign that your feelings towards Mark might be something more than platonic.

Then you remember the night you thought Mark died underneath the abandoned building. The half-finished, panicky thoughts from that terrifying moment rush back so quickly you feel like you’re having vertigo.

Please, please help me find my best friend, I can’t live without him, I’m sorry for everything I said to him these past few weeks, I love him and I want him back, please –

You sit up straight with the realization, trying to breathe.

I love him.

You love Mark. You’ve probably loved him for a long time, you just didn’t realize it. Or maybe you just didn’t want to, because what if he doesn’t feel the same way?

Mark took a bullet for you, your brain whispers. Then the last conversation you had with Lia comes to mind.

“I thought he might’ve actually liked me, but… it’s pretty clear who he really does.”

“Lia, I promise you that he really did like you.”

“Maybe. Just not as much as he or I thought he did. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

Maybe he does.

Your throat constricts again. You feel the (now familiar) sensation of your chest closing up as thoughts and memories rattle around your mind.

Am I seriously going to have a panic attack over Mark liking or not liking me? is your last coherent thought.

You almost don’t hear Johnny calling your name as he walks through the door. Even when you do, you can’t respond. His voice gets more worried as he gets closer, and you see his eyes widen when he opens the door to your room.

It’s like you blink, and then he’s next to you. Vaguely, you hear him ask if he can hold your hand. When you nod briefly, he doesn’t trace patterns into your palm, but he holds it gently, quietly talking you through the episode until your gasping turns to heaving that turns to normal breath.

For a long time, you just lie on your bed, feeling Johnny’s hand ground you to the earth. “How did you know what to do?” you finally ask, voice slightly raspy.

“One of my roommates at university used to have panic attacks,” your brother replies quietly. “He taught us what to do in case we ever had one or encountered someone having one.” He sucks in a breath. “How long have you been having these?”

Well, there’s no point in hiding it. “A few months,” you admit.

Johnny sighs. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” You try to keep your voice flat, but it trembles anyway. “You already have to work just to let the two of us survive, while I’m just going around and doing things that don’t matter. I don’t make money. I just take up space. I don’t help. You had enough to deal with.”

Your bed dips and then Johnny’s putting you into a very light chokehold. “Excuse me?” he says teasingly, though you can hear an undercurrent of sadness in his voice. “Did you just say that you don’t matter? Because you do. Very much.”

“But –”

“Nope, my turn.” He lets you out of the chokehold but keeps a gentle hand on your arm. “I will tell you something right now. If you weren’t here, I would no longer have anything to live for.”

You shut up.

“I make enough for us to live, don’t I?” Johnny looks down at you. “And don’t you technically make a lot of money for us each year, keeping your academic scholarship?”

“Well…” You swallow. “I mean, I guess?”

“So you’re not allowed to say you’re a waste of space.” Johnny turns you around to look right into his eyes. “You’re my younger sister. I love you far more than you can imagine, and I want to worry about you. It’s my duty as your older brother. I want you to be able to talk to me. Trust me, you not telling me things stresses me out more than you telling me everything.”

A ping of regret hits your heart. There’s so much more you haven’t told him, so much more that you can’t tell him just yet.

Well, he knows this now, at least.

“What causes your panic attacks?” Johnny asks gently, rubbing soothing circles onto the top of your hand.

You can’t tell him about the loud noises, but small spaces is reasonable. So is stress. “I’m not completely sure,” you begin slowly, “but I think it’s stress. Small spaces, too. Most of the time, they happen out of nowhere.”

Johnny sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You look up at him, confused.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.” He hangs his head.

“Oh, no. No.” You punch his shoulder. “If I can’t blame myself, you can’t blame yourself.”

“Caught by my own logic,” Johnny groans, rubbing the spot you hit. “Fine. What caused this one?”

Man, you just promised yourself you’d start telling Johnny things, and then he goes asking something like this. You swallow. “Stress,” you say truthfully. Your voice gets smaller. “I also think I’m… I think I like Mark.”

Whatever you thought was going to happen, you didn’t expect him to laugh. “Johnny?”

Your brother thankfully calms down, though a smile stays on his face. “Congratulations, you’re officially the last one to know.”

“… What.”

“Y/N. My oblivious younger sister. Listen to me.” Johnny stares you straight in the eye. “There are many cases where best friends just remain best friends forever. However, you and Mark definitely do not fall in that category. Anyone who’s seen you two interact can tell.”

You have no clue to what to say to that.

“It’s obvious you two like each other,” your brother finally says, smiling even wider. “I’m just happy you figured it out.”

“This is so embarrassing,” you mutter, pulling away to flop onto your bed. “You think he likes me back?”

Johnny snorts. “I know he likes you back.”

Silence falls in the darkening room. “Go for it, Y/N,” Johnny finally says. “You’re brave. You can do it.”

Lia’s words come to mind again. “I thought he might’ve actually liked me, but… it’s pretty clear who he really does.”

“Maybe,” you say, even though you think you already know what you’ll do. “Maybe I will.”

. . . . .

Mark doesn’t live in Florida. Nor does he live in Texas. No, he lives in New York, where the weather can still be shitty, but it’s more or less predictable.

He didn’t sign up for this.

The day starts out nice enough. Gray light streaks through the sky as the two of you start out for Stark Tower, suits in hand. The sun is fully up in the sky by the time the you reach the tower, and it only shines brighter as Mr. Stark teaches the two of you to fix up more of the nanotech.

Somehow, the two of you hadn’t managed to fuck up your suits that badly that week, so Mr. Stark lets you go early. The sun is still shining brightly at that point – it’s probably two or three in the afternoon – so you suggest going to Central Park to work on your research papers in the shade.

One hour passes in quiet bliss, then two. You ask him to read over a paragraph and he asks you to check over the diagrams in his appendix. All the while you two are working, the sun is shining brightly, making you thankful for the shade the trees provide.

Then the clouds start coming in.

Mark doesn’t react to it at first, just welcomes the extra cover from the intense sun. It’s only just started getting warmer so there’s still a cool breeze, but after months of freezing snow, the heat isn’t entirely welcome yet.

But the clouds keep coming to the point where they’ve all but blocked the sun. You look up with a frown. “We should go,” you say, shutting your laptop. “I think it might rain.”

“Really?” Mark can see why you’d think that, given the heavy clouds, but the sun was shining so brightly just an hour ago. The weather probably wouldn’t change that fast.

You shrug. “Better safe than sorry. Plus, it’s already five. We’d be going soon, anyway.”

You turn out to be right. It starts drizzling by the time you reach the subway station, and he can hear the rain start pouring as the train takes them back home.

“This isn’t Florida,” he complains. “I thought it wouldn’t start raining until, like, next month.”

“We love our favorite global issue, climate change!” You make jazz hands while rolling your eyes. Mark laughs.

He’s so in love with you it doesn’t even make sense to him anymore. Is this how Mei and Ben felt? Is this how his parents felt? If so, how did he not realize it earlier, if you make him feel like this all the time?

The rain is still pouring down in sheets by the time you two emerge from the subway station. “Let’s wait for a bit,” Mark says, unwilling to get soaked to the bone. The apartment isn’t too far away, but in this weather, it might as well be a mile.

However, the minutes pass, and the rain doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. In the end, you just put your jackets on and run for it.

Mark hasn’t run through the rain in a long time. Physically, it isn’t pleasant. Water soaks his hair and his clothes, and he can only hope that it won’t ruin his laptop, too.

But a smile still blooms on his face as you run next to him, eyes squeezed almost shut to block out the rain, water running through your hair, mouth open in a laugh that sounds like music to his ears. Somewhere along the way, you grab his hand, pulling him along faster as your shoes squelch through puddles.

You drag him under a shop awning about halfway back to the apartment to catch your breath. Despite the cold rain, your cheeks are glowing with contagious warmth and excitement that makes Mark let out a breathless laugh.

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, gasping for breath, listening to the sheets of rain pouring onto the awning. Water drips down your faces and into puddles on the ground, and Mark privately thinks you shouldn’t look this beautiful, but you do.

“Hey, Mark?” Your voice jerks him out of a rose-colored daze.

“Mhm?” he replies.

A flash of uncertainty passes through your eyes, but steely fire quickly replaces it. “Can I kiss you?”

The world comes to a standstill. It’s like he’s frozen in time, listening to those four simple words play over and over in his ears.

Can I kiss you?

“Mark?” Your voice is smaller this time, but you still gaze at him with a look that he recognizes – not just from your face, but from his aunt’s, too, when she looked at Uncle Ben. It’s a look that must be mirrored on his face right now.

It’s love.

He nods once, twice, then breathes out a little “yes” that even he can barely hear through the crashing rain, but he knows you heard it when your smile turns blindingly bright and you loop your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

It’s messy, a bit cold, and your noses bump into each other the first time your lips press together, but Mark just laughs and you just smile and then he’s leaning in for a second one, a bit more practiced this time, cold lips turning warm as Mark holds you close, hands encircling your waist, just reveling in the feeling of your body pressed against his.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time you two break apart, skin chilled but faces warm, smiling shyly but broadly, eyes sparkling. “You’re beautiful,” Mark breathes, then immediately goes tomato red.

You laugh, loudly but – you’re so cute – shyly as well. “So are you,” you reply.

The two of you race home after that, laughter unaffected by the gray clouds and pouring rain. And as Mark stands, kissing you in the apartment lobby as water drips off of him into puddles on the floor, he feels nothing but bliss.

His life’s been flipped upside down, ever since that spider bite. So many things have gone wrong.

But this?

Mark smiles against your lips.

This is one thing that’s gone right.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader

Title: Throuple

Notes:

Granny Boone is bisexual and you can’t change my mind. 

This is way too long I’m sorry. My excuse? Its self indulgent that's why and I wrote it over the course of 2 days, both at night time so... 

Pick whichever Buckman you like best. 

Plot: 

Boone and Buckman just care a lot about you! A looooooot, a lot. Like, so much. A colossal amount, really- but you’ve never heard of a ‘throuple’ before.

Warnings: Uhh, polyamory? Sexual harassment, hint towards rape (Not of you or any known characters but still), 2001 Maniacs craziness? Reader might also have a mental illness, I don't know. Its not explicitly stated and I’m just the writer so how would I know? But she is really tired. Laziness in the last written sentence. I haven't edited the last half, so it might be illegible... In the morning I probably will edit. 

~~~

SET: Before the massacre, so everyone is alive except the 2001 Maniacs victims who have yet to be born because this is 1860

“Hey Y/N!” One of the men from table three - was it William or was it Lawrence? I don’t know, whoever-it-is’ voice is too slurred at this point for me to figure. Turning away from the table I was wiping off, I tuck the washcloth into the waistband of my apron and raise an eyebrow vaguely towards the table. “Come over here a moment, wouldja?”

“Why?” Now, usually, I would go over; No question. But its nearly closing time now, and its dark, and men like to get rowdy at this time, and I’ve been burned by that shtick before. Resting my working hands, course and strong, on my hips, I raise my eyebrows.

Put on a cold front and they’ll lose interest. Uh, usually.

“Just wanna get a betta look atcha! Larry here says you got a flat ass, but I got 3 coins on yer plump bottom. Y’ wouldn’t want me losin’ coin, would you?? Come on, now, just stand over here and lemme ‘ave a look-see. Wont even touch!” William, as I can now see, shows off his grotty yellow teeth in a wide grin.

He honestly think’s that crap will fly? He really, truly believes I’ll just submissively walk over to them and bend the fuck over?

What the hell do they take me for? I’m a waitress, not a prostitute.

Instead of snapping at them though I merely sigh, and clap my hands in a finished manner. “Come on boys, time to go home. It’s closing time and my snuggly warm bed’s calling out t’ me. Aren’t yours’? Come on, then!”

Groans and protests are my response, but the long drunk and tired men - they’re here after a long day of work in some mines, - get up and head for the exit to my building despite their complaints. I know neither of them are staying in any of the hotel rooms above, so that’s where they’ll go and that’s where I herd them. Out the saloon doors and down the street. I shoo them all the way, curbing their complaints with ‘Think about lovely dreams’, and ‘You can come back tomorrow for breakfast!’. Once we’ve gotten to the door, I wave them off, dish cloth in hand. “Goodnight boys, see you in the morn- Ah!” A high-pitched shriek comes out of me and is released into the cold night-time air in a puff of visible gas in the lamp light as I whip around. Someone pinched my-

“Theodore.” I gasp, eyebrows furrowed as I use my fists to cover my ass as I look up defensively at the tall, roguish looking man. I thought he left hours ago!

How dare he-

“Definitely plump / flat, boys!” He calls out to the two that are heading down the street, receiving raised hands in goodbye and laughs in response. Probably disgusting comments, too, but the mix of how far away their retreating backs are becoming, and the alcohol in their systems making their words blur together like flour and eggs mean that I thankfully don’t hear them with any sort of clarity. Theodore looks back down at me and smirks. “You said something about a warm snuggly bed, Miss?”

“Yes. Yours is a couple blocks from here. Be free to go forth, right now.” I roll my eyes, slipping around him so he’s closer to the door. He twists around and runs a hand through his greasy hair that’s far too long, and would be fair if he ever let water touch it. Good lord man, go see Al the barber and maybe you’ll learn some manners along the way.

“Aw, are you mad at me now Y/N?”

“Just cross.”

“I know a fun way we could work through those passionate feelin’s together, darlin’- “

Another voice joins the fray, just as I’m worrying if Theodore will ever actually leave, or more seriously- If he will ever actually pull through with the comments like that that he always makes towards me. “Oh, what’s that?”

Theodore and I look out to the street immediately to see who’s interrupted him. Who, with such a high and feminine voice, has had the audacity. Who, has become simultaneously his annoyance, and my saving grace.

My eyes land on Boone, and a grin makes its way over my lips. She looks cross herself, hands on her hips, shoulders anchored towards Theodore in a way a mother might look at her son when she is…

Totally pissed off.

I waive my dish cloth at her from behind Theodore. “Good evening, Boone!”

She doesn’t so much as say anything back, just glances at me and then back at the problem- Theodore. Oh man, if I were him I’d be backing off now. Boone scares everyone, me included. Not that I have to worry, she’s made it clear that she cares about me.  

… A little too much, but still. That’s neither here nor there right now. I’m glad she’s here!

“I think I heard some unsanitary comments comin’ from you, Mr Miller. At least I hope they were just comments. Why don’t you go on and apologise to our deserving waitress Miss L/N, before I let the Mayor know what you’re up to here. I believe he warned your ass last time we caught you cornering her.” Boone’s eyes darken on him and I wonder if I could slip off to the side and clean off the last table; the one William and Lawrence were at previously, so I can retire sooner. She’s got this all under control, if I know her.

But then Theodore just rolls his shoulders back, and the air around him seems to still. “You know, Miss Boone, I never see either you or our esteemed mayor every kickin’ up such a damn fuss over anyone else in this town. I mean, shit. I had some devilish fun with Miss Lyla the other day and you didn’t do nothin’!” A smirk slowly rolls over his mouth as he looks back at me for a moment, caging me in those dark, weaselly eyes for a moment. Oh, crap.

Boone, though, doesn’t even bat an eye.

But before she can say another word, yet another familiar voice calls from the shadows. I look down the path the way Boone was headed down before she heard Theodore and I and stopped by, to see Buckman walking down towards her. What are these two doing taking walks at 11 at night for, anyway? Why aren’t they together?? Seems a bit choreographed, to me. Let me just add that to all the reasons they creep me out.

Now, our Mayor is shorter than Theodore, who is much like a weasel in that he’s skinny, smelly and long, but that doesn’t make him an any less intimidating presence against him. Even with cheer in his eyes and his hands carefully in his pockets, its always been clear from the get-go, that he’s a force to be reckoned with. Its something about the way he holds all of his emotions inside, I’ve always thought. Mixed with the knowledge that he’s fought in a war.

It’s why we voted for him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Mayor.” Theodore swallows down a gulp of spit, stepping forward out of my saloon, finally. “Sir!” I take a deep breath and let it out, relieved, going straight to the doors and wedging myself between them; blocking him from coming back in and ready to shut the doors again as soon as I can. I don’t want Theodore coming back in, but I also don’t want to be left alone with either of these two nutters’, either.

Oh, by ‘nutters’, I mean ‘pillars of the community’… Mostly, I mean that. Uh, half.

Okay fine, they’re nuts.

“Mayor,” I greet, inclining my head for a moment politely.

“Evenin’ Y/N! I hope you’re not having too much trouble with this one.” Buckman immediately flashes me a bright, election winning smile. A real one. Like he always does when he see’s me.

“Well, he was. But I think Boones got it covered.” I grin back, unable to help it. He’s very charismatic!

Boone’s expression softens a bit and she relaxes her stance, giving me a little smile. “Thank you dear.”

“I’m sure she does.” Buckman agrees, and then they share a smile between them, and I look down at Theodore on the bottom step that leads to my saloon. Oh Jesus Christ, if he had suspicions before, then they are just growing now. This is just what I need!

I haven’t done anything, Theodore!! I promise!

Which is not to say I haven’t received countless offers, but I don’t need to be even thinking about that. Seeing as I declined. 

“Now, why don’t you head on home Theodore.” Buckman drops his nose to look up at Theodore with a little bit more menace and severity. “You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Good night sir! Boone, Y/N.” Finally, Theodore looks back over his shoulder at me, and then makes a break for it down the road past Boone. She gives him a stink eye for as long as she can before losing interest.  

And then its just me, Boone and Buckman in the stillness of the night.

And I wish I’d run off like Theodore.

“Well! Good night ya’ll! I got an early day tomorrow, so- “ I try to escape by weaving an excuse and locking the doors behind me, but it it’s not 2 minutes later when the only other set of key’s for this building stick into the lock, turn, and they walk on into my saloon. I sigh, now behind the counter washing cups.

Of course. He’s the mayor. Of course, they have keys.

Looking up at the ceiling, I pray for an easy time of it tonight. Please, let them be tired from their daily duties and they’ll go home soon.

I continue to wash glasses and plates and put them away, but I don’t get too far before Boone’s gone right ahead and helped herself to my special ‘only me’ area -behind the counter of my saloon,- and turns me around by the shoulders to look at me. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

I sigh, and tell her. “No. I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry for me.” She really shouldn’t, not in the way she does. She has a husband.

The part where he didn’t touch me is obviously incorrect, but I better not mention that to these two.

“Even so, we do worry darlin’. Come on, sit down for a bit. Give us some peace of mind, at least.” Buckman, immediately on the other side of the counter, asks and I sigh. I’ve learnt, that if I don’t comply, then they’ll never leave. And besides, the things they ask of me are never bad. Just, sit down and talk with them. Play cards. Have a drink. Generally, just lovely things like that.

It’s the intent behind them that concerns me.

“Yes. I’ll go and get you some water.” Boone says with a No-‘If’s’-or-‘Buts’-about-it kind of tone, and I try to open my mouth and protest against that, but she’s already guiding me around the bench. When we reach the end, she deposits me with her mayoral husband, and he leads me the rest of the way to a table. I sit down, sighing simultaneously and he sits down next to me. “I’ll wash the glass; Don’t you worry about that!”

“That’s… “I blow air into one of my cheeks and blow out gradually. “… Not what I’m worried about… “

“Now, he didn’t do anything nasty, did he? He certainly had the intention.”

I shake my head and set my hands in my lap. I want to tell them what he did, I really do. I don’t know why, but I always want to tell them things.

But I retain the believe that I can’t. I shouldn’t be that close with either of them. “No, sir, I’m fine, really! That’s not even as bad as some other men get at this time of night, anyway. I could have handled- “A moment after I’ve admitted the fact that other men have been worse than what Theodore just suggested to me, I pause. And peer guiltily up at Boone instead of Buckman as she hands me the water she promised and then sits down on the other side of me. “… I haven’t helped my case, have I?”

“No.” She laughs.

Maybe I do need this water.

I take a sip and look at neither of them, instead settling my focus on this glass of water and the far wall. I really need to repaint that wall…

While I do this, and they talk to each other about their day, I ponder my situation.

Now, I… I don’t consider myself a judgemental person. I don’t care what any folks do behind closed doors, in their bedrooms. Man and woman, woman and woman, man and man. But I am damn sure that it is only supposed to include 2 people. I’ve never heard of couples that are more then that, unless you count cults and I don’t.

So, it’s not that I don’t care for them both. Not at all. Its that I can’t be with them both, like they’ve asked, like they want. I can’t.

I’d like to be that open minded, I would, but… I just can’t picture it.

___TIME SKIP: Modern Day___

Since they arrived, I’ve been peering a little too long to be polite at a few of the newest group of victims. I’m a little worried that they’ve noticed, but I’m also really curious. I just can’t tell who is a couple and who isn’t. There is a particular group of 3, that’s throwing me off. I definitely saw the blonde one kiss the ginger one, but then I also swear saw the ginger one and the brunette ones holding hands. Could that just be a friendly thing? It had a pretty intimate feel, to me.

Now, I stand on the porch of my saloon, leaning my forearms onto the railing as I watch them. Buckman’s still with them, along with half- no, the rest of the town, remaining town I should say, inviting to the annual ‘guts and glory jubilee’. At this point, I really don’t get why any of these kids stay. Maybe it’s just because I know what going to happen to them.

Or maybe, its because this generation of kids are morons.

‘Guts and Glory Jubilee’? I mean, really? At first it was clever, but it was only a temporary name for the trap. And now its been a hundred years and its still called the same thing, and my saloon’s always full with disrespectful modern teenagers and my friends acting like loons to keep them there, and the kids aren’t getting any brighter. Too blinded by the way us Pleasant Valley women dress, and the inviting way we all -men and women alike, - smile, and laugh. They’re none the wiser to our plot.

Like I said, Morons.

As I’m watching the usual show on Buckman explaining with bright theatrics what a fun time it’ll be and how they should stay, as our honoured guests, I catch the eye of one of those guests. The blonde one from before, that kissed the ginger one. They smile through the awkward, accidental eye contact, and I paste on a smile back- too old and too tired to care about the awkwardness. I keep the contact until the moment they look away, honestly too tired to look away first.

I just want to go.

Where everyone else did. My parents, my fiancé, my… god, even my fucking cat… Where they went. Before we were massacred. Heaven, or hell, or wherever the hell we go after real, no consciousness death. Where we can’t, until 2001 of these dumbass teenagers die.

I just have to hold on a little longer.

A little while later, they agreed to stay and I went off into my saloon, ready to great them and serve them drinks. And clean tables, and fight off bastards trying to get a drunken feel, and snap back at rude ass, degrading miscreants who think I’ll just stand by and let them call me names.

Which is what I’m busy with now, as I dry off a now clean glass, ready to be filled with my sub-par rum again. A loud, brutish call of ‘Hey, any fucking rum left? Waitress!’ interrupts my quieter, calmer thoughts of fantasising about seeing my family again right after the saloon doors absolutely slam open. I whip around and am ready to have Jonathon, the only man in this saloon that I even remotely enjoy the company of and my only employee, kick the bastard out when my voice escapes me. Instead, I roll my eyes in utter frustrated and groan. This is just what I need.

“Theodore, what have I told you about calling me waitress?! You know my name.” I exclaim through grit teeth, throwing my now damp dishcloth onto the bench with vigour, causing a couple boys at the bar to reel back with a few irritating, obnoxious ‘Oooh’s. Theodore slowly smirks in that easy way that he does, and drops down in the bench across from where I’m standing. “Yes, we have the revolting drink you love. You know, we have rum. You basically live here!” I throw him a greasy with my eyes. “Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask you; Do you have a home?? Because I’d be happy to send you off with a weeks’ worth of rum if it means I’ll get some peace and quiet from you for that time!”

“Naw, baby, I come here for your company. If you came home with me for a week, that’d be a different story. I’d stay away easy! Just stay… in bed… with you.” He winks.  

Dropping the ferocity in my body language for a moment, I just deadpan at him. “You disgust me.”

“In the best way.” Theodore grins, then leans into the bar, evidently done with teasing me for now, if his serious expression tells me anything. “Anyway,” He starts, sounding exhausted now as his hair droops around his face and the smile officially leaves his eyes. “Drink?”

Because it’s my job, and because standing near a quiet Theodore is a welcome alternative then trying to make conversation with the teenage boys down the left side of the bar who ‘Ooh’ed me earlier, I pat the bar and grumpily head off for the rum and a glass. “Coming right up.”

While I do that, Boone and Buckman; The nutters, the pillars of the community, the mayoral couple and the banes of my existence, come into the saloon and take the table by the door. I ignore them though, pulling my own stool out from under my side of the bench and sitting down across from Theodore, pouring him his drink and sliding it to him. Jonathon can handle the rush for a few tiny minutes, while I sit for a second. “Thank you, darlin’.”

I don’t say anything back, because I don’t like to extend pleasantries to him of all people. Instead, I look around the room and do my usual assessment. The room’s loud, and full of people -Boone and Buckman took the last unoccupied table, and Theodore took the last stool, -, acting loud and having butt loads of fake fun. I don’t really care about that though; all I care about is that in a moment I’m going to have to get up and ask around for any more orders and clean some more cups and plates. For a second, I let my shoulders relax and I rest my hands on the bar in front of me. Strong, work woman’s hands.

“You noticed the ‘throuple’ in the new group?”

Oh, Theodore is still talking to me.

Joy.

“Huh?” I look up from my hands to meet his eyes momentarily, raising my eyebrows at him. What did he say?

“The throuple, that’s what they called it when I asked ‘em.” He smirks for a moment. “It’s a relationship between 3 people.”

“Why do I care? That sounds like their business.” I sniff, then wipe under my nose a moment and then move to fixing my apron over my chest. It had slid to the side while I was working, it seems.

For a glorious moment, he doesn’t respond. He just stays quiet, and I think how lovely his company is when he’s on the other side of the bar and is quiet.

Then I look up at him, still with my eyebrows up my forehead, and see he’s looking straight into my soul. A knowing, mischievous grin on his lips. Its as if he ironed it in that way, all creases and wrinkles on his face from smiling so much in his life.

But I know what he’s insinuating.

It’s a different world out there now, that’s apparently allowed. It happens. Romantic relationships between more then 2 people. Maybe I should reconsider my answer, to Boone and Buckman. Maybe it would work.

That’s what Theodore is saying with this look that is so annoyingly painted on his face.

And to that, I say fuck off.

Or I would, if I wasn’t a good, Christian lady.

Instead I shrug my shoulders at him and head off to check the tables. “It’s a whole new world out there!” I call back, successfully, hopefully, ending the conversation.

Where does he even get off making suggestions like that to me- he shouldn’t even be that sure of what was happening -what they were, or are still, trying to make happen, - to mention it to me in such a forward manner. I definitely didn’t tell anyone except my mirror, and my… bathroom sometimes… but I certainly didn’t say it above a whisper! He couldn’t have heard, even if he was snooping around like the creep he is.

And the other two definitely wouldn’t have said anything. They despise Theodore Miller even more then I do.

He must just be smart.

… huh.

Who knew? Theodore has a brain and not just a penis under that grease, sweat and soot covered flesh.

Like a coward, I hit every other table in the room before I get the one by the door. They obviously can tell that I’m trying to avoid them, because saloon procedure is obvious to get to the table that was most recently filled as soon as possible before any others, but I don’t really care. If Theodore and I noticed the, uh, ‘throuple’, then the mayor and his wife, definitely, did. And I’m dreading the conversation that is about to occur.

When I do, finally, start heading towards Boone and Buckman’s table, I notice Theodore turning around in his seat to drink and watch the scene.

With his knees spread wide like a heathen. Ugh! Not in my establishment. Before I get to the table, I show him my middle finger and he turns around, chuckling to himself.

Okay. I take a deep breath, and stop at the dreaded table.

“Good afternoon, Mr Mayor. Mrs Mayor.” I beam, a pasted smile that’s obviously fake. Luckily, because I don’t think I could handle any more embarrassment and pressure right now, and unluckily because I think anyone else’s attention might actually be preferred then these two’s right at any time, no one else is paying attention to see such a grin. “What’ll it be? Today we have beans and bread as the special- like always. “I take out my notepad and pen.

Not because I need them to remember orders, of course. Just to have something to focus on.  

“Good afternoon Y/N, why don’t you sit here with us for a bit? You look bone tired from takin’ care of this lot! It’s a full house today.” Boone asks, even going as far as using her foot to push out the other chair at the table that isn’t taken, for me to prospectively take.

Absolutely not.

“I am exhausted.” I find myself sitting down, instead of leaving like I should have. Immediately on feeling the tension leave my legs, I feel like collapsing onto this table and falling asleep. “Thank you.”

Leaning into my hands for a moment with my eyes closed will have to do. A feel a comforting hand pat my shoulder and it does feel better. “Why don’t you let Jonathon handle business for a little bit- we actually happened to have a talk the other day about him wanting more opportunities to advance. This would be a perfect opportunity for him! And you look warn, sweetheart.”

He shouldn’t call me that.

But it does sound good. Especially coming from Buckman. And with Boone looking so worried about me, too. It feels too nice a place to be, with them, to be wrong. “Uh, well, maybe… “

Then I look up, past Boone’s head and, by complete chance, on the blonde, brunette and ginger that have been the topic of the day…

And all of a sudden, momentary blind panic tears through me.

I jump up from my seat, the chair toppling down onto its back as I stand back on to my exhausted legs. it barely interrupts the volume of the room, so no one else really notices. But I do catch sight of Boone and Buckman’s faces, even more worried and a little bit hurt, before I stutter through an apology and an excuse about having to work, and I rush off back to the safety of my bar. Of course, Boone has been back here before, but I choose to ignore that little fact.

Theodore watches me with wide eyes, as all the tension in my person just grew to level a thousand intensity, as I call Jonathon over and ask him to take his lunch break now.

I don’t need any excuses to go and take my break. One of them, or both of them, might come and ask me if I’m okay. And I’m starting to forget why that’s such a bad thing, but I know there is a reason, and… Jesus Christ, I’ve never been so conflicted.

Because yes, the world outside of Pleasant Valley has come far. Like I said to Theodore, it’s a ‘whole new world’ compared to what it was when we were alive a century and a half ago.

But we’re in Pleasant Valley. And you only have to look around and see how different we dress and talk and move compared to these new present time people and you know; We aren’t part of that whole new world. Boone, Buckman and I don’t fit here.

Maybe if things were different.

Definitely if things were different, actually. I know, if they were, I would be there. I would be all in.

But I’m not and things aren’t different.

___

An hour later, and I’ve calmed down at this point. I still feel exhausted, now because I work so much and because of emotional baggage, but I don’t feel the racing heartbeat that made me sick before or the adrenaline that caused me to run away. So, it’s better… Stable again, at least.

I’ve convinced myself that if I don’t look their way. I can become numb again to the feelings they make in me. Its an idiotic notion, but its kind of the only thing keeping me still right now.

Merciless God, grant me a break. Amen.

The saloon is starting to quieten down for the night, as the light goes away outside and visitors disappear to their rooms -some with a partner they’ve only just met, some alone, some with friends they came with. It’s a big group this time, - upstairs in the hotel part of my building. I’m sitting back down in my stool behind the bench by the time the ‘throuple’-I’m still not sure about that word, - finally, FINALLY, decides to retire up to their room. I bid Jonathon a good night as he went home too, a little earlier to his wife and son, and waived shortly when Theodore pushed drunkenly off the bar and hobbled out the doors.

I lean heavily onto the bar myself, and watch the three go up the stairs together. The brunette’s holding the ginger’s hand now, and the blonde walks ahead of them and holds the key to their room.

After they disappear onto the second floor, I turn to look at who else I need to wait to leave, so I can go to bed myself. Mmm, I’ll take a long hot bath first, and light some candles to go with it. Most importantly, I’ll let my hair out of his too bloody tight ponytail!

“Ah, that’s sounds good.” I mutter, already imagining it as I push off the bench and go collect some plates and glasses that are left out on the tables and wipe them down for the last time today.

“Miss Y/N?” A familiar voice, Boone, calls the softest that I’ve ever heard it from the door. I look around quickly, ribbing the back of my aching neck to see no one else around. Huh, I hadn’t noticed I was alone.

It was nice.

Still, I flash her a tired, half smile. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. We should know at this point not to go so hard on you. You work all day harder than anyone, even Buckman but don’t tell him I said that.” She pauses, walking fully into my saloon and as if it were choreographed, we both sit down together at a table. “Actually, go ahead and tell him. Its true.” I grin despite myself, rolling my shoulders back and then leaning back in the chair- entirely taken over by exhaustion. I don’t even have energy to put up walls. Boone looks at me again and gives me a soft smile. “We want you to know always, that we care deeply for you, and whenever you’re ready you can join us. But… we also don’t want to stress you so much anymore. So, we’ll pull back- a little. If that pussy Miller tries anything on you again he will be dealt with.”

I nod, sighing. But, then again, why doesn’t that make me feel better? They’re going to leave me a bit more alone! I should feel relieved… but I do not. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I hate to see you so pent up.” A devious smirk touches her lips and her eyes. “I mean, I would like to help you with that in a different way then leaving you alone… But I will. Because I love you.”

I take a quick, deep breath. There it is. I never actually thought those actual three words would leave her lips aimed at me. But it’s the most natural thing in the world, tell her. “I love you too.” A wicked beam is my response from her at that.

“Can I hold yer hand?” Boone asks, offering her daintier hand across the table. Trying hard not to glance around for onlookers but failing, I take her hand.

It feels so nice, relieving, to hold it finally.

I take a deep breath, and whisper the next words. I want them out, I want to confide in someone. I’m sick of keeping everything to myself, I’m sick of being all alone. It’s by my own will, of course, but… it still hurts, all the same. “Boone, I-I’m just so… so weary, of everythi- “

Buckman interrupts me, turning up at the door. “Howdy, what’s going on in here?”

Boone ignore him, gathers up her skirts and gets to her feet. When she rounds the table to me, she drops them to the ground in favour of cupping my face in her hands instead. “I know. Why don’t you let go of one thing? Let us hold some of the load, sugar. Please.”

Finally, I can’t tell myself no. And I absolutely can’t tell her no. I glance from her to Buckman who has apparently read the atmosphere and now stands beside Boone. He smiles, like he always does at me. Like he feels it.

God, I want to feel a smile again.

And I lose the strength to do this all on my own anymore. I shakily get up from my seat and throw my arms around (You choose one or both, because I’m lazy and its bedtime for me).

[finleyjayne]

Silent Echoes

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: may have missed a few swears while editing... IDK excessive Beyonce (Can that even be a thing), Mentions of previous sound deprivation.

Summary: Bucky and Sam have a friendly feud that will last for the decades. This time Sam’s immaturity reaches extremes and Bucky is ready to gouge his ears out. Will you sacrifice your own peace to help Bucky, or are you going to leave him to stew in his self made agony.

Word Count:1,241

Bucky was always surprised by the range of sounds that surrounded him every day. No matter where he went, there was some kind of noise.  Even when he was wandering the half-empty halls of the compound or trying to find peace in the nearby wildlife. It didn't even matter the time of day. Chatter, arguments, gunshots, the clicking of type keys, songbirds, owls, snoring, panting, and music.  

Don't get him wrong it wasn't that Bucky hated the symphony that surrounded him. Often times, he found himself sitting out of the way just listening to the choirs that he could hear. It was preferable to the silence that had surrounded him during his time with HYDRA. They had been vigilant in keeping him from overhearing anything that could have derailed his compliance and, therefore, had soundproofed everything tenfold. 

Today, however, the noise had gotten to be too much. It took every ounce of willpower in Bucky's enhanced being not to stuff his ears with cotton and scream himself just to drown out the sounds. It didn't help that Sam was on his case about his "outdated" sense in music, again. Blasting Tupac, Beyonce, and a multitude of other LOUD musicians, so loud that even if Bucky wasn't enhanced, he would still be able to hear it in any of the Avengers' designated rooms of the compound. Since he WAS, though, he ended up being physically unable to get far enough away from the petulant man-child's antics. 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky stared into the high skylights of his current hiding place, fighting back the frustrated tears that were pushing against his eyelids. There has to be someplace where the noise stops. Somewhere where he can sit and not be distracted by someone's footsteps or triggered by someone's idle conversations. Someplace safe.

Before Bucky could fall further into his frustrations, a soft set of footprints danced their way to the opposite side of the sparring mats where he laid sprawled out on his back. He looked up to see you execute a perfect tumbling pass only to end up lying on your back perpendicular to him, your head gently coming to rest on his hard belly.

"SO, what did you do to get Sam riled up this time?" You say, draping your friend and teammate's arm out from under you before playing with his fingers. "Honestly, I have no clue," He sighs, causing you to look up into his face. "I wish I knew how to make it stop, though." He looked at you with the most sincere puppy-dog eyes you have ever seen, the unshed tears enhancing your view into his hopelessness.

"So you didn't happen to say, 'Sam shut off that shit, or I swear to god I will beat you until you no longer have any hearing left,' or some such nonsense while he was listening to Beyonce on repeat this morning?" You smirk, knowing full well that he did. "You recognize that he worships that woman. He could put Tony's obsession with himself to shame."

Sighing, he looks away, "Yeah, But can you blame me? He had been listening to the ONE song for Hours, Echo. HOURS." 

Smiling at him sympathetically. "Winter, you could've been a bit nicer. Though honestly, if you hadn't done it, I would have. I don't think he realizes how much we can hear. I know Steve just dealt with his antics because he's a saint. But sadly, neither of us are, and he isn't here to curb Sam's crazy."

Bucky grimaces at the reminder of his best friend's newfound sabbatical. "Yeah, Steve is good at that sort of thing. But that doesn't solve our current problem. How are we going to get him to stop?"

"We don't need him to stop, you need him to stop," you correct your now perplexed human pillow. "I fully intend to use my own personal Batcave. Wait out the worst of the storm. According to FRIDAY's statistics, he should get tired of this shit in about three hours, should be just enough time to read a romance novel, take a nap, and maybe even paint a little bit." 

You could feel the eyebrows on Bucky's raise in disbelief. "You can't possibly have somewhere on base that can block out sound well enough for you to not hear this hysteria." 

Laughing, "You think I didn't make that my first stipulation when I moved into this madhouse to join this merry band of heroic misfits?   I knew you've taken your fair share of head blows, but I thought the glowing blue stuff they filled your veins with prevented CTE." You lean up onto your grounded forearm into a sideways plank before flipping into a cartwheel over Bucky's chest. "I'm not sure how you haven't found it. Tony made it into a literal dead zone. It's like a giant box of silence that sound bounces off of like steve's patriotic frisbee and BBEG noggins." 

Bucky shakes his head, bemused by your antics. "Doll, if you haven't noticed, I don't echolocate shit. That's what you are paid for. and I figured that since your private rooms were basically soundproof that Tony had done his best."

Still smirking playfully at him. "Stark rarely does less than perfect work, Barnes, especially when he pairs his brain with Shuri's. You should know that since you wear one of their mechanical miracles connected to your shoulder almost all the time." 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," He mutters.

"Hey, don't be such a leech." You say, nudging the aforementioned limb with your toe. 

Staring up at you defensively, he pouts, "I am not a leech, what does that even mean?

"It means you suck all of the joy out of me teasing you. You know I don't mean to cause harm, I care for you and all the shiny, mechanical bits that come along for the ride."

He scrunches his face up in distaste. "Thanks, I guess." He mutters, before quickly changing the subject, "So you said something about a bat cave? Since you care for me so much, does that mean you'll take pity on my soul and take me with you?" at this point, he would do anything to keep from having to listen to the blasting beats Sam kept popping out of what feels like nowhere.

"I don't know, Bucky. It might not be up to your sensibilities."

"Please don't make me beg." He states, staring up at your mock contemplation. He watches as the corners of your lips twitch ever so slightly. 

"What will you do for me if I share?"

"I am sorely tempted to say anything, but I'm sure I will regret it if I do. What would you like me to do for you?" He says, his eyes pleading with you to go easy on him.

"Is there any chance of convincing you to read my penny romance to me?" "If it gets me out of this endless tirade of music, I will even act out all the kissing scenes for you. Just show me the way, dollface."

"Well, if you are offering, I definitely can't say no to watching your performance, Mr. Barnes." You smile and turn toward the abandoned yoga studio in the back corner of the training area. 

Bucky groans as he gets up from the floor. Unsure of whether or not he just wrote himself a death sentence by romance novel instead of by music.

[gideongrace]

Talking amongst ourselves - fanfic writer interviews: @ihni

(Originally, these interviews were done more conversationally, but this interview is a LONG one! So I edited it down for tumblr. You can read the whole unedited, uncut interview over on a03! There are pictures involved. :)

Please say your first name, your age, your pronouns, the fandoms you write for and provide a link to your a03. You can also mention your sexual orientation or other details, if you'd like.

 Ihni:

My real name is Moa, but I go by Ihni online. On AO3, I have an account under Ihni (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihni) but that's for rhymes (and doodles). I only wrote rhymes/poetry for a long time, and when I started writing fic, I wanted to put that under another pen name. I was NOT comfortable writing stories for YEARS. Now, though, I don't care. So, I write fics under the pen name Thei (https://archiveofourown.org/users/thei/).

It's all Stranger Things, these days. Harringrove (because I love the fandom and I like the two of them interacting) and Billy-centric (because I love his character, SO MUCH).

I am ace and aro, so my fics tend to not contain any sex (I have ALLUDED to it a couple of times, but that's basically as far as I go). I am also just as happy to write fics without any romantic or sexual relationships at all. Billy and Steve can be buddies only, as far as I'm concerned.

How do you feel about being aroace when so much of fanfic is all about romance and sex?

Ihni:

I live by the tried and tested rule of "don't like, don't read". 

There is a lot of romance in our fandom, for sure. But it's not like it's lovey-dovey IN OUR FACE romance, you know? 97% of Harringrove fics are two dumb boys who are bad at communication and who can't deal with Feelings. And I fucking live for that! Also, even the lovey-dovey fluffy romance stuff is cute, when it's them. I may not want a relationship for myself, but I don't mind at all if the boys are in one! (If they want it, they deserve it <3)

And as for sex ... well. I can read about sex, if it's well written or if it furthers the plot. If it's too graphic, I tend to scroll past it though, or just skim through it. It doesn't... give me a lot? I guess. Like, it's not like I read "smut" in the tags and go "oooh I have to read this!" - rather the opposite, in fact. I can read it, but it's not something I actively look for, and when I stumble upon it, I don't always read all of it. If I know the writer, I'll probably read through it to honor their work, though.

I just won't ever leave a "omg that was so hot!" comment! XD If someone expects that from me, they'll be disappointed (and I'm constantly terrified of disappointing or offending people for NOT commenting on their smut).

Basically, I am the master of my own fandom experience, and if something makes me uncomfortable I will keep away from it. Simple as that.

More people should live by that rule.

What's your writing process like?

 Ihni:

Uuuuuuuugh.

That's an interpretation of my writing process.

No, but.

I usually get SUPER INSPIRED to write a specific scene, or concept... and THAT part goes well, but then I have to build a STORY around it, and that takes SUCH A LONG TIME and SO MUCH EFFORT!

And also, usually, it gets out of hand.

I usually have to force myself to get the words in, honestly. And also, I get real tired of what I'm writing, real fast. So I have to force myself to finish (I have a few WIPs that are more than a year in the making...) before moving on to other things. (And I usually write the other things inbetween, anyway.)

I get easily distracted, when I write. Like, actually sitting down and writing takes an hour and a half. Then I MIGHT write for like twenty minutes, lol.

Cold Turkey Writer was a godsend XD.

If I have internet on while I'm writing, not a lot will be written, let's just ... let's just say that.

How do you edit?

Ihni:

HAHAHAHAHAHAA

Erm.

Well.

Sometimes, I read through it once, and change a few things, and let that be it.

In a couple of cases, for the longer ones, I have actually made an effort to read through it more than once. (The problem being that by then, I'm so sick of it that I will skim through it just to get it over with.)

A couple of times, a friend has read through it for me, and given me pointers. Which is VERY HELPFUL! But they've offered to do it for me, I would never ask it of someone.

And about the editing process ... I check for spelling mistakes, or when something sounds wrong, or looks wrong ... and then I fix it, so it looks and sounds better in my head. I don't know. That's editing, right?

What fanfic authors do you admire?

Ihni:

In the Harringrove fandom, I have to mention LEMONLOVELY, because I'm in love with the way she writes Billy, and the way she's shaping her fics as she goes, and the way her attention to detail brings a whole mood (I am OBSESSED with her "Words Left Unsaid" fic, and am probably that fic's biggest fan).

LYMRICKS, because fucking hell, they sure can write a fic that draws you in. There's something about long sentences in combination with short sentences that really makes them easy to read, and the language is like a punch to the gut, at times.

CALLIEB, because I love their stories and I'm currently following "Second Thoughts" and I love how they write everyone like ... like they're holding their breath, waiting for something.

And I'm not even gonna mention any others by name because I'm terrible with names and I'm bound to forget someone and I'm just, I don't want to do that. Our fandom is full of talented writers, and I just. If I've commented on your fic, I read through all of it and I liked it. If I haven't - well, I HAVE been writing more lately = less time to read, and I have like 100 fic tabs open on all of my devices ... I hope to get there, some time!

In other fandoms, let me mention PeaceHeather (for how they write Loki and that world), aloneintherain (such good whump!), isaDanCurtisproduction (the absolute best Spideypool!) and gaelicspirit (who writes lovely angsty whumpy Musketeers fics). Like. Just to mention 0.01%, or something.

I don't think any of them, particularly, have impacted my style - because I don't HAVE a style - but I soak up every word of every fanfic I ever read, and if one sentence is a particularly pretty string of words, I will copy & paste it into a word document that is now 170 pages long, or screenshot it to keep it forever. ❤️

Words. <3

What's your favorite story of yours?

What's your least favorite story of yours?

What's your favorite line you've ever written?

Ihni:

Like, in what SENSE? Even though I know my writing isn't up to par, they're still my babies. Still my creations. I love them in different ways! Like. I love "Coming Back" because it was the longest I had written back then, and it's probably the one I am most pleased about, writing-wise, and it's also the one I went through and edited the most. So it feels like the one I worked the most on.

I love "Toy Soldiers" because it was a totally self-indulgent piece of writing that I wrote for the joy of it, and because I wanted to read it and no one else was about to write it for me.

I love "About Apologies" because something about it pleases me, it was an experiment that didn't fail, and I like it more and more with time.

I love "Less of a mistake, more of a miscalculation" because I had fun while writing it, and it turned out kind of like I wanted it to, plot-wise.

I love "Actions and reactions", because I had no idea what I was doing back then, but I still did it, and somehow it got long and I still don't know how that happened.

And I realise that this makes me sound a little self-centered, but I worked hard on them. I love them, even if they're my ugly and imperfect babies. And even if I cringe if I re-read certain parts XD

I guess my least favorite story of mine (and I'm guessing we're talking Stranger Things things here?) is "Not unusual" because a) I never re-read it and b) it was the start of something that I have to actually FINISH at some point and ugh, that was not the original plan. If we're talking least favorite stories in all fandoms, then definitely "In which there are mistakes made", which was a Teen Wolf fic, and the reason why I don't do WIPs anymore. The last chapter was written simply to fucking END it, and ugh, I hate it.

The favorite line I've ever written ...? I don't know. Are we talking in fic? Because I write my best stuff in comments, honestly. :p I don't think I have an answer for that one, actually. Sorry :S

What part of writing is easiest for you?

What part of writing is hardest for you?

 Ihni:

Easiest? Dialogue. I like dialogue. Like, as a non-English speaker I can at least imagine a plausible exchange of words, and banter, and make it sound somewhat realistic, I imagine.

Hardest? The rest. Like, some people are just fucking WIZARDS with words, can write these long descriptive sentences that perfectly sets the mood for when a character gracefully moves across the room ... whereas I am just, "He stood up and walked over. End of fucking story."

What do you do when you're struggling for inspiration?

Ihni:

Give up?

Or do something else.

Or go and read. (That's basically the same as giving up.)

Or, if I'm still writing, I go to another part of the story and write THAT, and hope that I'll feel like connecting the two pieces, later.

Inspiration is a bitch.

Who introduced you to fandom and when?

Ihni:

Oh god. I am old. I don't remember. 

I started writing stories when I was real young, and I was always reading something. I started writing stories with my friends when I was a teenager. Then we discovered the internet (yes, this was around the time when we got internet access in school and at home, told you I was old!) and when doing that, I guess we found more like-minded people.

Fanfics ... weren't an organized thing, back then. But I've been reading them, and been in fandoms, ever since I discovered that there were people online who liked the same things that I liked.

I would say, actively, from maybe around 19-20 years old? Like, that was ACTIVE fandom-ing.

What is your advice to fellow writers?

How often do you jump between fandoms?

How long have you been writing?

Ihni:

As a WRITER, I am not the best person to give advice to writers, I think. I'd rather TAKE advice than give it, at this point.

As a READER, my advice is to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE, because you are doing a good thing and you are creating a version of a world that is yours, versions of characters that you can shape into anything, and SOMEONE out there will love you for it (probably me).

I jump between fandoms ... hmm, as a WRITER? Seldom. Billy's my jam and I'm not moving.

As a READER? All the time. I mean, I'm pretty deep into Harringrove and Billy and Stranger Things, but sometimes I need something light-hearted, and then I go back to some of my basic fandoms, and read something else. I will never run out of things to read. 

❤️

And how long have I been writing? FOREVER. I wrote when I was young, and thought I was going to be an author (wrote in Swedish, back then). Then I wrote when I was a teen, for fun. Then I stopped writing. Then I started writing rhymes, in English, because it was a craft I could do and train in, and it was short pieces. And only in recent years (very recent), have I started writing fics. And now, I write long-ass fics in English, so I guess I have at least come a long way!

Why do you write?

Ihni:

...

I just sat and stared at the screen for a good ten seconds.

I'd say that it differs.

Sometimes, I write because I want to READ something and no one has written it (or is going to).

Sometimes, I write because I want a very specific thing or feeling, and it doesn't exist yet.

Sometimes, I write because I am inspired.

Sometimes, I write because I want to.

Sometimes, I write because of a deadline.

Sometimes, I write because there's something in my head that Won't Leave Me The Fuck Alone until I get it out.

Sometimes, I write for fun.

Sometimes, I write because I want to hurt.

Sometimes, I write because I need to.

Sometimes, I write because I want to become better at it; learn; reach towards the writers whose work I love.

And sometimes, I just sit and stare at a document, don't write a single fucking word, and go watch a movie instead.

[dreamcity-rawr]

Comfy || Jeno

Character: Lee Jeno (NCT DREAM) Genre: 7 deadly sins - Sloth, fluff Words: 2.1k words Summary: in which you wake up the demon of sloth, Lee Jeno Warning: language Request: Jeno extension of demon!nctdream 

  “You want me to what?!” You turn towards the group of older males with a look of disbelief. You’re casually sitting by the infirmary desk, looking after the place for the day because the doctor in charge has an urgent matter with her daughter again and you’re the only person she trusts enough to ask for help.

   You don’t have to do much. Just sit there and write down the names of any students that come in for care or just to rest. There isn’t much of a need to treat anyone’s injuries because no serious stuff really happens around your school.

  It was all going so well, with no disruptions or problems until these people show up, asking you for the most ridiculous favor. You recognize them as the basketball team and you know well who they are here for.

  “We’re having an important practice for tomorrow’s match and we really need him to wake the hell up. He’s been skipping too many practices just to sleep in this place” One of the males reasons. You watch them as if waiting for them to give you more of a reason but seeing as they aren’t saying anything more, you continue, “And that concerns me because?” Your brows meet in both confusion and annoyance.

  “You’re the only person gutsy enough to wake him up, y’n. You’re in charge of the infirmary anyways right? So.…” Another says, nodding his head as if to make you nod yours as well, it only manages to make you scoff.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. He’s your teammate, go wake him up yourselves” you reason back. The older males all sigh before one steps up to say, “He broke the captain’s arm the last time he tried to wake him, we can’t afford to lose another good pla-”

“-and what makes you think he won’t break mine? Jeno’s a demon for god’s sake, I don’t want to wake him up and have my head chopped off” You shake your head in defense, refusing to even think about what might happen if you were to take on the responsibility.

  For the very few times that you were present at the infirmary, you always see Lee Jeno on the list of “patients” resting in the infirmary, he just sleeps there most schooldays. Makes you wonder what kind of sickness he, a powerful and probably immortal demon like him, might have that he’s always in there. How on earth did he get into the basketball team in the first place if he’s so sleepy all the time.

   The times his sleep’s disrupted are terrifying and you were unfortunate enough to witness the rage that’s Lee Jeno, woken up from sleep. The minute anyone even touches him, his hand shoots out to grip their throat so fast you’d think he wasn’t even asleep in the first place. His eyes turn this unnatural and demonic green color, sending shivers down your spine just seeing it from afar.

   The time Jeno broke the captains arm was the time you were sick so you were resting in the bed next to his. You, as a light sleeper, were woken up instantly when you heard the captain call for Jeno. So when you turn around to frown at whoever was making the ruckus, Jeno already had him pinned against the wall as his other hand grips the older male’s arm that just shook Jeno awake.

  In a breath, he broke his arm with a sickening crack, sending the older in a painful scream. That was the day you decided you’d never, ever, even think about talking to him when he’s sleeping, let alone touch. Not even if the building was on fire.

   In a way, it opens your eyes. You’ve always thought demons are just like human beings with just a bit of supernatural power. But after witnessing Jeno’s rage, you come to realize that demons are so dangerous that humans are nothing but flies compared to them.

   After that situation, the doctor had told you, Jeno is a demon, yes, that you know. But he’s a demon of Sloth, meaning he’s just flat out lazy. And it explains why he’s sleeping most of the time and if he’s not, he just looks so drained, as if life was sucked out from him. And that also means that anyone who stands in his way of getting sleep has a death wish.

  “Come on, y/n. Just this once. You’re a girl anyways so he might go easy on you” the older male says, almost pleads. Your gender doesn’t change a thing. Jeno’s a damn ruthless demon. Nothing can possibly make you even touch Jeno. You’re not that eager to die young and definitely not in such a pathetic way.

  “You wanted that limited edition pikachu figure for your sister’s birthday, right?” That’s when you look back at the male, quiet for a long and thoughtful minute. The male smirks to himself as he’s hit the bull’s eye.

  Your sister’s birthday’s coming up soon and she’s been talking about that dumb pikachu silver figure every single day. And you truly want to get it for her, only problem’s money. It is so expensive as it is limited edition but then again, the way your sister’s eyes always sparkle when she talks about it just makes you eager to finally get her a great gift after so many years of being apart from her.

  A long sigh leaves your lips as you stand up from your seat. You turn to look at Jeno, sleeping so soundly before looking back at the basketball team, “You better get that fucking figure for me, I’m sacrificing my limbs for this, dude”. The male smiles in content, nodding his head vigorously.

  Here goes nothing, you think as you approach the bed.

  You watch him quietly, gathering your courage to do this dumb thing, sleeping so soundly. His features are a mix of softness and sharpness together. So peaceful and gentle as he breathes softly, body curled up a little as there’s no blanket. He was too lazy to get himself one even in this chilly weather. But his nose and jaw are so sharp they could cut, those and his piercing gaze are what draw this really cold and fierce aura to him.

  Your hand reaches out, hovering over the male’s shoulder hesitantly. You turn to look at the team of basketball players once again, as if to think through whether it’s really a safe idea only to roll your eyes as they hide themselves behind the door, just as anxious and nervous just standing that far away.

  You look back at Jeno and clench your jaw, hand finally going forward. As soon as your palm makes contact with his shoulder, his eyebrows narrow in a frown. You inhale sharply, freezing for a second, waiting for any alarming reactions. That’s when his eyes open ever so slowly before he looks you directly in the eyes.

  If looks could kill, you’d be long gone. There is this cold and distant feeling about him as he glares at you with his greenish eyes. Your lips tremble as you let out a quiet, “Your teammates are looking for you”. It comes out way shakier than you intend it to and Jeno feels the fear even through your palm.

  You brace yourself as you notice the snarl curling at the corner of his lips. He’s pissed.

  But then his eyes move from yours to your body. Or more exactly, what you are wearing. It’s a chilly winter so you’re in an oversized hoodie, one that you feel really comfy in just because it is warm and soft. Unsure of what he’s thinking, you look down at your hoodie before looking back at him with a tilted head, “W-Wanna borrow thi-” before you can even finish, your vision spins.

  The next thing you know, you’re lying on your side on the bed Jeno’s in. your eyes widen as you feel his arms circle around your waist, one hand even reaches beneath the hoodie, coming in contact with the shirt you’re wearing under it. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, feeling the coldness of his skin even through the thick hoodie. His legs tangle with yours as you don’t even dare move an inch from the position he’s holding you in.

  Your eyes wander towards the doors in panic, searching for the basketball team and asking for some help because Jeno’s about to either crush you and suffocate you but to your horror, they had fled the minute Jeno had pulled you down onto the bed, not wanting to be involved.

  You curse mentally as your eyes shift around the room, feeling Jeno’s grip around you go even tighter. You close your eyes shut, just waiting for pain to start hitting you or any of that sort. But then the only thing you really feel is breath hitting against your neck. Jeno’s cold breath sent shivers down your spine.

  “Mmmm, warm and comfy” he hums, face almost hidden at your nape, his nose grazing it slightly with every breath he takes. And you realize, he’s gone back to sleep when you hear the gentle snores.

  “Jeno?” you call out quietly to confirm, not really sure whether you should be glad that he hasn’t hurt you yet or not. Because being in this position isn’t something to be glad about either. But then again, should you really take the risk of waking him up again and probably having him go mad demon mode at you for real?

  You wiggle yourself from his grip, hoping it doesn’t wake him up. But to your discomfort, his arms are so tightly wrapped around you that you can’t even shift your position. A low growl comes from behind you and you freeze in your spot.

  “Stay still, stop moving” his voice is so low, somehow even demonic, that you feel the vibration at the back of your neck. “just let me go and you can continue sleeping” you say, not sure why you even said that, knowing you could be getting him pissed and yourself in trouble.

   A gasp leaves your lips when his arms loosen around you only to swift you up and turn you around so you’re facing him. It all happens in a blink of an eye, because it is a demon you’re dealing with here. His speed takes the breath right from your lungs. But another thing that leaves you breathless is how close your faces are right now.

   Jeno’s face is just a breath away from yours, his eyes looking right into yours, still droopy and tired as always. His features are absolutely stunning up close, as if carved by heavens. He’s a demon, maybe he’s carved by Satan himself.

   “Woah…how the hell does one look like this?” you mumble unconsciously as you just stare at his features. You feel his hand snake up to the back of your head and in a second, he presses your face against his chest before his other arm returns to wrap around your frame, “Shhh, you talk too much” his voice is tired yet so alluring.

   It leaves your heart beating like crazy. At this point, your face is flushed because one, it’s getting pretty hot and two, Jeno gets you so flustered with so little effort. There are lots of attractive guys, yes, but Jeno just has this alluring aura around him that just screams inhuman. And as much as it nerve-wrecks you, it also excites you.

  “Had I known you’re this comfortable to hold, I’d have already joined you all those other times you were here” you hear him say in his tired voice and you look from his chest in surprise. Your eyes widen you notice he’s already been looking down at you.

   “How do you even know I was here when you’re always asleep” You ask, actually having the courage to hold a conversation with him, he watches you for a quiet while before he closes his eyes while replying, “I hear everything in my sleep”.

  “Wait, so you heard your teammates earlier?” you ask with a raised brow, shifting your position to put some space between you two but Jeno’s not letting you move even an inch, instead, he pulls your face into chest once more, this time, making sure to secure it there so you stop talking to him as he drifts back to sleep, but not before muttering a quiet, “This is much better than that pikachu figure, don’t you think?”.

  Shit, he got you.

   author’s note thank you yoonbabe-d and anon for sending in teh requests~ I love doing these extensions, maybe taht’s why they end up being too long, lol...anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this~   ♥️ I love you  ♥️

[marvelgbt-posts]

Forever

{Peter Parker x Male Reader}

Warnings: none… angst…? slight self hate ig but idk you’ll see…

Summary: a peter parker x male reader where peter gets insecure about mj and readers friendship since he sees how good they look together and knew MJ had a slight crush on reader. Reader fixes the problem by cuddling him, giving him slight kisses on his neck and just some fluffy shit. also cute bby boy peter being all flushed and cute

I really hate giving MJ this role, but ok :/ and also, what do you us think about MJ and Peter in FFH? Personally, i dont like it. I’ll make it it’s own post, it’s mostly a personal preference though.

(not edited)

“OMG, [M/N]. You’re too funny,” MJ said, a slightly happier tone to her voice than usual. You smiled, taking the small smack to your arm with a soft laugh as well. Peter watched across the lunch table while Ned was too occupied with the game on his phone. He pouted; you seemed to be having way more fun with MJ than with him. Lunch was almost over- oh no, wait, that was the bell…

You stood up from your seat as Peter gathered his stuff. He waited for you to walk him to his next class, as you usually did so. MJ also stood up, looking at Peter, “Hey, loser,” Peter had found himself being called ‘loser’ a lot by MJ- probably more than he found himself being called that by Flash- but he knew she was joking, “Aren’t you and I together for History?” Peter nodded, “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he usually had Math right after Lunch, but today was Thursday. Thursday schedule was always weird for him. You began dragging yourself behind and in between them. Ned had already disappeared; his next class was all the way across the hall from where their classes were, so he had to hurry. You spoke up, “I have Biology next anyway. It’s right down the hall from there.”

“Neeerd!” MJ laughed, yelling into your ear. You tried to move away from the noise, a smile playing to your lips, “Oi, idiot, that hurt!” MJ smirked, “Good.” Peter fumed- he felt like he was the third wheel when it was supposed to be MJ. He was dating you, not her. Though, to be fair, not that many people knew. Just the two of you, Ned, Aunt May, Mr. Stark, Happy, and the rest of the Avengers. MJ didn’t, and Peter felt like he should tell her- if not for it being for the reason of ‘she should know because she’s my friend’, then at least for ‘omg stop touching him he’s my boyfriend’. And there she goes, touching you again. Though, this time she used her own shoulder to bump into yours instead.

Peter heard a small murmur, “Doesn’t MJ look really cute next to [M/N]?”

“Yeah, she’s definitely happier around him.”

“She smiled a lot when with him.”

“Their both into the arts; she likes reading and drawing, he likes music and (insert an artistic talent/interest).”

Soon, Peter began hearing things other than just small murmurs and chattering around him. It felt as if he could hear everything everyone was saying. Wasn’t that a side effect of his spider-like abilities? Perhaps it was, Peter couldn’t remember at the moment.

“Yeah, they’re practically made for each other.”

“They make a good couple.”

“Did you hear that MJ and [M/N] got a full score on their project for Art?”

“Oh yeah, they were parters, right?”

“Yeah, MJ made the layout of the sketch and [M/N] finished it up. He did his own thing as well, and they ended up getting their art submitted into the contest happening at the art museum.”

Then, Peter felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

“So cute.”

“Wow, they make a good couple.”

“Peter looks like such a third wheel.”

His own thoughts mixed with the other small talk around him, and it surrounded him in a pit of black.

“He looks like such a loser.”

“Wow, no one would be interested in him anyway.”

“No one likes a nerd.”

“Peter is a loser.”

“Peter is a nerd”

“Peter is lame.”

“No one likes Peter.”

“Peter-“

“Peter!” You shouted in his ear, and Peter jolted up. “O-Oh, yeah?”

“Isn’t this our class?” MJ asked, pointing to the door. Peter nodded sheepishly, looking over at you. You smiled, “Have fun learning about a bunch of dead guys. I’m off to math!” You pumped your fist up in mock excitement. MJ laughed and Peter gave a small chuckle, “H-Have fun.” You nodded, “Sure wont.”

***

3rd person P.o.V.

[M/N] met up with Ned, MJ, and Peter after school. “Hey guys!” He greeted, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter resisted the urge to lay his head on the other male and just looked at him and smiled instead. [M/N] smiled back, but Peter felt like their was this other feeling in the other male’s eyes he couldn’t quite read. “Uh, hey,” [M/N] started, “Parker, you feeling up to a study session today?” Peter pretended to think, nodding soon after, “Sure, dont have any plans today anyway. Lemme text Aunt May, though, first.”

‘Study session’ was a code name for ‘miniature date at my house’. Peter had grown to love the words very much because then it was just them two, and it was normally [M/N] showering Peter in love and affection for the whole night- if he didn’t have Spidey-duty that day, that is. Peter pulled his phone out from his back pocket, pulling up Aunt May’s number. “Can I come too?” MJ asked, “Or is it just one of your gay things?” MJ huffed in amusement at her own joke, not realizing the irony of it. She tried sounding nonchalant about it, but not wanting to break her heart, [M/N] let her off easy, “Uhh, my house is really messy. I feel like Peter can handle it, but I dont wanna make you run off because you’re scared of my pigsty of a home.” He laughed. MJ chuckled, “Wow, gender equality, dude. Whatever happened to that?” [M/N] shook your head, “maybe next time. You don’t have anything and Peter usually spends the night, so it’d be weird, wouldn’t it?” MJ nodded, seemingly disappointed, “yeah, whatever. It’s cool.”

“Done!” Peter chirped, and MJ began walking off. Ned had also run off somewhere. “Good!” [M/N] smiled, “I have you all to myself for the rest of the evening!”

2nd person P.o.V.

Once the two of you made it home, Peter put his stuff down onto the floor in your room while you prepared some food. Since it was Thursday, you guys weren’t assigned that much homework, so you and Peter would probably finish it in the small intervals before classes. You prepared some snacks like popcorn and candy while Peter changed his clothes. He also took the time to pick out clothes for you- a loose white T-shirt with black basket ball shorts. He wore a white shirt- of course, a nerdy one with a scientific pun on it (the two atoms; one asking if the other is positive it lost a electron)- with one of your boxers. He walked out, socks protecting his feet from the cold floor. He scrunched his nose at the smell, smiling.

“You wanna pick out the movie?” Peter asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as well. They made their way around both his arms, one hand holding the other to trap the smaller boy in an embrace. “No, you can pick,” you smiled, tilting your head to kiss Peters lips quickly, “so long as it isn’t Star Wars or Lord of the Rings again. Please. I can’t go through another marathon again.” Peter whined playfully, “But [M/N]!” You stuck your tongue out, “Too bad.”

Peter reciprocated the action, and you both let out a sigh of giggles. “Anyway,” you continued, “You want anything specific to eat?” Peter shook his head and you nodded. You let him go and he went over to the couch. He flipped though the many channels on the TV before settling on a Disney movie. “Is that Disney?” You asked, walking in with a bowl of popcorn, two sodas, and a plate of cookies. Peter watched in awe as you balanced everything. “Yeah,” he answered, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”

“Aw, sweet!” You fist-bumped the air, “love that movie.” Peter nodded, leaning to rest his head on your shoulder, he had been deprived of physical touch for a while. He just wanted to spend time with you, was what he thought as he wrapped his arms around you. Your arm wrapped around his waist while the other ate from the supported the bowl of popcorn on your lap. Peter stole some as well, and you watched as the movie began with its intro of the parents trying to save their defaced child from the protagonist.

“It’s kinda inappropriate, dont you think?” You asked Peter after a while, and Peter looked at you confused, eyes squinted Ashe seemingly judged you. “How? It’s a Disney movie?”

“Well, I mean, it talks about gypsies. Aren’t they visualized as prostitutes? And that seen where Esmeralda dances for that old dude, you can see he’s clearly turned on.” You shook your head, “never mind…”

When the movie was over, you cleaned up the remaining food and placed it down to be cleaned later. You carried a very, very tired Peter Parker up to your room. You laid him on the bed and dimmed the lights. He gripped onto you desperately, “Dont move, dont go anywhere…” he said, “Can we stay like this forever…?” He asked tiredly, and you laughed softly, “No, we have school tomorrow.” Peter whined childishly, “forget school. I can make us enough money by being Spider-Man, we dont need education.”

“Peter, my parents would kill me if they found out i dropped out of high school to piggy back on my superhero boyfriend for money.” Peter let out a huff, and the two of you let out quiet, breathy chuckles. He leaned close to you, noses touching. He then frowned, “Do you like MJ?” The question was sudden and it caught you off guard. “Well, i mean… yeah, we’re friends…”

“No, i mean… like like her…?”

You let out an ‘ohhh’, suddenly realizing Peter’s behavior earlier (the cause of your strange glint Peter noted earlier). “No, baby,” you smiled, “I’m not romantically interested in her, if that’s what you’re thinking.” “But,” he began, a slight pout on his lips. God, he was really tired, “she was all over you today, shamelessly flirting with you. You didn’t seem to mind it though…”

“Peter,” you began, stroking his hair a bit, “I dont like MJ. I like you. No, I love you. A lot. So dont think that.” You moved to lay Peter on top of you, taking his hands and intertwining them with yours as he made himself comfortable on your chest. “I know,” Peter started, playing with your fingers a bit, “its just… everybody says you two look good together. I guess i just didnt like the feeling of you with another person, even if it’s just the public appeal and not reality. Sorry…” You shook your head, “dont apologize, baby. It’s normal to feel jealous…”

Peter was quick to defend, lifting his head up to glare at you accusingly, “I wasn’t jealous!” You laughed, “yeah, and I’m not dating Spider-Man.” Peter sighed, resting in his previous position. He mumbled another, ‘I wasn’t jealous…’ and you just nodded. You began running your hands through his hair, to which he quickly responded by sighing and relaxing even further into your chest.

A few minutes of running your hands through his hair later, Peter got bored and slightly irritated of the position. He moved to sleep next to you, with you spooning him. You wrapped your arms around him and gently played it his stomach, felling up and down his abs. He whimpered lightly, curling a bit at the ticklish feeling. His body began to heat up; you could feel it. “Are you still upset?” You asked softly, and Peter nodded. You sighed, placing soft kisses to Peter’s neck. He leaned back, face flushed red as you continued up his neck to his jaw. He turned his head to face you, and gave you a soft kiss. You to didnt move, instead you stayed there and took in the presence of each other.

When you two pulled away, Peter had the brightest blush on his face. He huffed, eyes falling closed, “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Of course you weren’t,” you smiled, “who said you were?”

You turned off the light once Peter finally fell asleep. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night- and, to be honest, if you could, you would stay like that forever if you could.

Panicked gay moment; had no clue what to write for MJ, sry sry sry anon (._.”)