#guy who lives in a city with wind in its nickname.

[jrueships]

this is so cute <33

[starsologyy]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: confessing to someone you thought had also liked you back doesn’t seem to go as you planned. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

𝐍𝐎𝐕 𝟗 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕, 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[Y/N]’S DIARY. 

drafts of the chill wind flew amidst the showers of raindrops floating delicate in the sky, following the sunlight pouring into your room as it caresses your eye bags built from fatigue to awake you from slumber. Little to do as you now gazed at the ceiling, but part of you rather enjoyed the simpleness of it all. When streaks of sapphire mixed with violet to resemble a mix of a sea of flowers suddenly flutter past the roof you have mesmerized trance on, you realize a butterfly has taken a cozy habitat inside your room this very morning. Possibly to signify fast change on the slowest day you could ever dream of. It cracks a smile on your face nonetheless, and it causes you to wonder how city-folk lived without noticing these rather insignificant things. Stillness though of course, was never guaranteed in land where everybody must occupy their hands at a given moment; yet, little of their ambition still lays a chance to be better than the calmness of the dawn and the charm of nature you arise to

No better though to the haste of town, you’re a foolish girl who accompanied the moonlight to sooth its loneliness when the people and daylight rested outside your window. With your rigorous yet consistent scribbles on fresh white paper, school is what regretfully keeps you alive against will in this journey of these constant evenings. Hilarious of a joke it was to judge others for not enjoying peace when you yourself immersed in the opposite of it. Perhaps to fill the void of daytime noise, you usually caved in to call to the boy who lives opposite your bedroom window during those moments. He maintains stillness while solving his math homework, and you interrupt it with your reading of English homework. Ironic though you would describe it when he criticized the stress of it; yet, he was the one who kept you awake during these sessions. 

A sigh escapes your lips with the subject of these revelations.  

The result of this morning was from one of those same nights. ‘Ru’ you would usually murmur by now to wake him out of his sleep beside you. His full name’s ‘Suguru Geto’ and yet the childhood habit to call him your nickname lingers similar to how the scent of your dad’s coffee grounds does on your clothes when it seeps through the crack of your door every sunrise. The joy of familiarity and care you feel when participating in this habit admittedly makes you want to question why you do, but you decide not to.

 Suguru continues to lie in utter peace amidst your cotton comforters as you start to lose focus-ness to the abundance of your illusive thoughts at the moment. he had no plan to awaken anytime soon it seemed (despite your clock signaling 8 o clock last time you checked), so you were stuck at this very moment. Aside from the exams for university soon arriving and the studying that’s going to accompany it, you can't remember what else should occupy your head. It was on the rims of your lips, maybe even to the cuticles you probably shouldn’t pick. Ah, what could it be? Did something happen last night?

Oh!

 “Even when we watch these shitty dramas I think you’re still the prettiest girl.”

Oh yeah. That was what happened last night. Your childhood best friend told you that you were pretty while you guys were watching some cheesy kdrama in the middle of night. 

 7 hours ago, your brows scrunched at a scene where the main character rambled about how ugly she was even though she had appeared to be adorning at least 20 layers of makeup for that scene. And if that goddess said that, You were thinking, what were you then with all this acne and blemishes on your skin? You weren’t sure if you had been obvious to your own insecurities resurfacing at the time, but he clearly did. 

Because at that moment, Suguru had mumbled those 14 words which bought you out of them almost immediately . Only then you noticed how his eyes laid on you in a slow trance, pupils dancing and being mesmerized to survey from the softness of your pillowy lips to the way the crack of your delicate smile could even surpass the beauty of the sun itself. A gaze in his eyes that could lead you believing he found you prettier than that actress on tv in your wildest dreams. “—Don’t even need makeup honestly.” He even whispered afterwards, like he needed further to steal air out of your throat.

You try to reason that he was simply joking like those other times, but the way his cheeks remained flushed when you turned back to look, told you that you could never disregard this as a lie when you had all the evidence you needed. Some would consider this you simply being desperate, but you dared gained courage to argue that this night reminded you of the feelings you kept stored inside your heart. 

He was flustered before turning back to the TV.

 Lame (lack of) response yeah, but what a night it was, to be reminded of your insecurities, then to be reminded of your feelings for your childhood again. You had decided to forget about it at that late hour, afraid it would affect your studies for the exam in the  future.

But here you were this morning, again pondering upon possibilities that laid scattered behind the thinly veil of fate if you had even whispered that you heard the lowness of his utmost kindness. A lie to yourself, it was a crime to Suguru you committed last night. However, let’s say you suddenly confess the truth of always wanting to be more to him and he accepts it. If you had then entertained the fantasy of being the one beside him when he grows old and starts to wear knitted sweaters (you would be the one to do), what would it entail? You picked at the scenario in a manner similar to a loose stitch on your pajama sweater, but you couldn’t find con in any of those of domestic scenarios, leading to a conclusion that had caught up finally since its emergence from middle school.

    You still liked Suguru—hell, even loved Suguru. 

   Probably would even marry him based on that knitting scenario.

 Your heart lays intertwined with the mere existence of him; how its threads pull to every word he whispers to you, how it beats to the rhythm of his own, how it yearns to even be closer than what it seems right. You could recall every detail about him if he asked randomly, like how Suguru stared at you for hope every time he’s at a game even if he told you he wasn’t worried in the previous 10 minutes before, preferred to keep his meals separated by food group, and even hated wearing fuzzy socks because they’re itchy to him.

 Somewhere inside you knew as well that Suguru would be able to tell you the small things about yourself. You two knew each other like you were the only people alive at this movement, and yet you have always forbid yourself from ever telling him what you truly felt about him even when opportunities have risen since the moment you first met in elementary. 

To bathe in the naivety of adolescence, dancing amidst the winds of the fleeting carelessness this world gifts all at this era of time, your youth used to cradle significant hope that he would ever realize how your heart longed for his own. To age however is to be punished with the inevitability of truth, and why you had soon learned to forbid mention of those sentiments was so you could save your dying pride if he had even mumbled words resembling the idea of rejection. No matter how many shojos you could read in spare time, whimsical they would only ever be to give you hope that Suguru would regard you as someone prettier than the girls he witnessed everyday. Nothing rather special you were even past the idea of beauty, even lacking possession of talent that would’ve made you stand out in this world. It was selfless, righteous almost of you to keep this tenderness encaged in the vacancy of your heart if he meant he would receive better than what you and this small town could offer. 

Yet you question why you still didn’t feel good when he told you that he had to reside with his father up north for a while when both of you were eleven. Nauseous you remember feeling when he didn’t smile as if he was merely joking about this, that you would actually be alone once more while he was gone. The tears you wept and wailed when you tried to pull on his arm to not let him enter that car, all went to waste that day. However while he had whispered to you he’ll call you everyday, you were still too young to understand life without him to be content enough even with that claim of his.

Somehow after years you still remembered what Suguru said to you when he arrived home eventually, climbing out of the cramped van his mom could only afford with the little support she had from her job at the nearby tailor shop. You weren’t the first he approached because of the distance you attempted to have, but you never forgot the tears that aligned with the tiredness of his soft eyes when you two made the slightest of contact, like he had been waiting his lifetime for the gods to reward him this moment. Many things happened during his absence and you were tempted to leave them in the dust known as silence for the thought he wouldn’t care, and yet somewhere you knew that he would carry their burden as his own if it meant it would relieve the heaviness of your heart; so, you decide to tell him, and he broke. 

The worst of you he accepted with no hesitation. No matter how many times you had told him to leave you, pushed him and had him waiting on nobody to come out of the door, he would be there. Perhaps it was guilt for all that happened during his disappearance, but he never seemed exhausted dealing with your stubbornness. Suguru cradled your flaws like they’re what to praise, leaving you to break into the comfort of his arms eventually when your anger had ultimately grown dormant. The warmth of his chest and the gentle rubbing motion of his contrasting rough hands on your freckled back telling you that he would take anything you throw at him, and that he’ll be here to sooth them when you’re ready to. 

Somewhere in your soul yelled the reemergence of feelings for Suguru during the first couple of years, but you decided to bury it like the frog you dissected in biology at the time, so it could be forgotten for the sake of this preservation of joy. From there, High School emerged to be greater than middle school, in which meeting new friends, working at the part time restaurant, sampling the tastiest of treats at the nearby corner shops led time to pass the both of you so swiftly in a mere blink of an eye. 

 Eighteen the both of you now were, though, searching universities to eventually do their exams for. The two of you had planned the same university, but inside you knew you would have to settle for less, for he to be greater than you even in the intelligence you once had great ego in. Suguru will be accepted, and he’ll be ripped apart from your fragile grasp once more like you were the preteens from seven years ago. You had wanted to forget the inevitable, but it lays its hands around your neck to steal breath when you try to find even the slightest solace you’ll be able to pass the eventual exam of entering the same university as him. Fleeting it was to search for chance, you usually stuck to basking in the joy you found from spending time with him. But even this morning it suffocates you despite him being right beside you. 

Delusion you called it when you used to twirl a strand of your hair along your finger, daydreaming the day that he acknowledges you as a girl. Now that it happened just last night, your body instead remains planted in horror of learning how to face the unrest of the unknown mystery from your grasp. 

 You let a quiet sigh take the place of the plethora of words you would’ve wished to exasperate to Suguru’s ears if he was awake, to perhaps communicate acknowledgment of what worries lies beneath your own skin. Picking gently at thread sewn cheaply on your sheets, you hum rhythmic melody to decide what you shall do next to decide this heartbreaking fate. Coward as you could be, to perhaps leave it to fate, to let whatever chance that exists guide you both into whatever you’re meant to be. Yet, that didn’t feel right for once. Inside your conscience, you realize guilt would be all you knew from there on if you had let the fate of your ignorant silence hold your peace. And you realize you don’t think you can live with yourself if bitterness of regret was all you could taste on the very tip of your tongue.  

 So with that, you decide to marry yourself to the foolish phenomena known as risk at this very moment instead, letting the fleeting sensation of freedom seep deep into every pore of your flesh so you could perhaps have a chance at the semblance of satisfaction without regret for once. In short, you were going to tell Suguru you loved him to get it off your chest once and for all. When he woke up of course. 

“ I know I’m hot but staring at me while I’m sleeping is a little creepy you have to admit.” 

Fuck he’s awake. 

 Forcing your head to swiftly turn to whatever you could lay sight on at the moment, ready to deny his accusations with a playful remark you’ll come up with in under a millisecond, he takes you by awful surprise when he slightly lifts up his (notably well built) body to yours, holding you in his grasp. 

“Come on, only guilty people hide themselves. Never seen an innocent person hide.”

“Whatever.”

“What are you thinking about then?”

“Nothing. Promise.”

 “Yeah because ‘nothing’ would be you tossing around in bed like some fucking maniac.” He comments, “So tell me, what really has you tryna hide something from me if you’re thinking about it this hard? You don’t seem to be so innocent, you know.” He teases, accompanying it with a singsong-like voice, intentionally grating your nerves (even if you have to admit he was right about you lying.)

“University. we’ll be separated soon, you know? guess i’ve been a little worried.” your lips whispered finally, murmuring almost, the gentleness in the strings of words you chose so light that the currents of wind and sea decide to spare you the everlasting burden of those worries in their amazement, letting him sustain them all instead. You roll your eyes at the thought of telling yourself before you would confess the truth of your fondness, and yet here you are now, bothering him with meaningless concerns instead. “I’m not even that amazing or whatever. I can’t catch up to you even if I study twenty four seven for those exams.”

Suguru lied in thought for a moment seemingly, only to conceal the two of you from the world swiftly with his hands dragging the blanket to lie on top of you both. being under the sheets together like children, you dared turn your body to witness his stare on yours. selfish, you would call him when he appeared in your gaze completely, for him to then lower his head merely centimeters close to your own, curling slowly into the emptiness near your neck to hear even the slightest of hitches of your breath. “what the hell are you doing?—” 

There you realized the situation, that you were under the sheets with him, like children again, heart to heart, only centimeters away. 

You realize eventually that maybe those concerns weren’t meaningless. Meaningful they would be before you have to decide whether or not to admit that you want to be his as long as he’ll take you. Maybe you’ll find a flaw to make an issue out of, so you wouldn’t have to tell Suguru your feelings by excusing your cowardice with denial. 

 “Come on, you don’t think I’m letting you grow apart again, right. Right? Tell me.” he muttered, sparing no sense of embarrassment when he stared directly at you. Suguru’s kind, and he’s not making you feel awful. It’s the bare minimum but your  lips start to tremble when you leap faith to dare admit truth in the fragility yet seclusion of this makeshift “home” from others. “Ru, us growing apart is bound to happen.” you could almost feel a lake forming along your water lines, “so many things I just haven’t told you cause I don’t want you to know my secrets before you have to leave again. What’s the use of knowing something about my life?”

 “If you go to the university, I know you’ll join the basketball team and become a rich engineer with a spot on the national team probably later on.”  “I have nothing. Nothing is waiting for me like crap is for you. Don’t you understand that?”

An uncomfortable silence laced your room at the moment, and you could tell both of you lacked a chance of  falling asleep again to the melody of the hummingbirds outside anytime soon until an answer was said. You decide to arise out of the bundle of fabric, resting your back on the wooden headboard, trembling to find somewhere to hide the recency of the puffiness surrounding  your eyes. Suguru follows soon after, inching closer once more to find the dip of your hips to pull you beside him. Movements like these never seemed to confuse you in the past but now they left you restless once more. 

 “Jesus it’s okay to cry—but come on. That’s not going to help make you feel any better.” He grumbled, ruffing your hair in the large palms of his hand. “You’re not going to suddenly end up fucked up after highschool.” Suguru flicks your forehead, “And I’m not going to just suddenly disappear, even when you think you might not get into that university.”

 “Don’t worry about things you know I’ll be there for. What’s the point of crying when things fix themselves? A uni doesn’t do shit anyways. You’ll find something more worth crying about eventually.” 

 Suguru’s voice attempts to stay brave in the face of your fears when he says this; however its fragility you can tell cracks when it forces his own terror urges to release  its ugly head. You can tell a part of him didn’t know the truth of it all, but he was willing to be dishonest if it meant you would even crack the slightest of a smile.  Man a being who lives his life full of righteousness in his veins with sureness in every word he calls out, he tries to make things right when he knows it has been wronged.  Suguru lives his life no different than who he is as this being, assuring you endlessly like he had eternity to spare if it meant your happiness would be guaranteed. Especially after his plenty of mistakes that had convinced you he would disappear again, he seemed to have precaution when it came to your worries. It makes you happy, admittedly, the thought of your existence being so persistent in his head that he bends over spine and sanity to give what your heart pleases. His values of truth and righteousness seemed to pale in value when it was your joy on the line, and the cynical pleasure of knowing that becomes obvious where you now have a lopsided grin on your face.

 “Guess someone’s believing me now since you’re smiling like an idiot now. I missed that smile, you know?” Suguru chuckles, pinching your cheek in his hand to ignite a somehow wider grin on you. “Very cute–” he closes his eyes, extending his sentence; “For an annoying ass motherfucker—”, he ends off, even cackling afterwards at the frown that quickly approaches your face afterwards.

 “Whatever.” You punched gently at his chest, resting your hands in your lap before your eyes strayed off to the nature outside your window, letting him catch his breath after his (not) humorous joke on you. He seemed to relieve your main concerns before confessing, so there shouldn't be anything left to prevent you from saying anything finally.  Your senses seem to heighten out of their fright though at the thought of doing so, and at its pinnacle you could almost hear every slight movement of the strawberry clock on the beige wall as if every click it made represented a skipping beat inside your running heart.  Soon, after a minute now passes by, you now decide  you’re going to wait for some form of sign to appear. Something to push you out of this standstill state. (Perhaps) Luckily for you though, amidst the golden and bitter caramel leaves of Autumn, a certain butterfly appears anew to seize your wandering sight with its cerulean hue, fluttering wings that behold their spectacular gradient of iridescent indigo. It seems to call out to you to speak this truth or you will be forced forever to hold an insincere notion of peace. In your very own nature all you knew was to be awfully rash, so you decide to listen to the creature's outcries to the end. Its presence plans to be the fragment of fate’s will for you to do this, so you enact it finally. 

“Geto Suguru, I like you.” 

His eyes widened, but his lips remained glue you think since you heard nothing after you shut your eyes to avoid having to see whatever face may appear. You’re not sure if the butterfly has left your side, yet you don’t seem to stop or stumble somehow, letting the flow of adrenaline take over you.

“I really really like you Suguru. And I'm not talking about a stupid school crush either—but I love you so much that I hope we’ll get married in a flower area in this shitty countryside—and I was being a pussy to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin whatever we had before university—” your hands start to bunch the bed sheets, “And if everything is so easy for you to understand and you can say that say you’ll be with me all of the time, is this really that surprising to hear?—” You had plans to continue on with this rant, but it’s clear he had different ones when he suddenly places his lips on yours.

Geto Suguru, your childhood best friend, was kissing you at this moment.

How the nerves contained inside your very veins freeze as if they were exposed to the harshness of the  autumn breeze outside; yet, they can’t resist leaning into the warmth of Suguru’s touch when his fingertips simply dance on your exposed skin. They leave crackles of sudden warmth almost when they move and make their way further down your waist, defrosting any nervousness hidden inside you. And with little to hold back, you continue to press the softness of your lips further into his, enjoying the delicate sensation of how they connect like they were puzzles in a set out of the million you desperately search for. When he kisses you, you realize Suguru seems to desperately try to continue apologizing for all of the tears and years he left you, the months and the days where he left you abandoned to what lies in the vastness of this world.  Suguru kisses you familiarly like you were his wife, and he has finally returned for the fourth lifetime you guys share so he can meet you and marry you. 

 All of this in the mere seconds he continued, to then simply pull apart after almost a minute or two it felt like.  He looks almost relieved for a moment, only for his brows to furrow as he jumps out of bed to find the beater of a tank top he left on your bed last night. Muttering from multiple curses stringing his rigids breaths, he forces on the baggy jeans he wore yesterday, only to tighten his leather belt a second later, leaving you no crevice of instant to even ask or stop him. 

To find meaning of this, shouldn’t it be obvious he had accepted whatever scraps of a confession you gave him? Why would have he kissed you if he hadn’t meant to say yes? Questions of those nature form inside your throat, and you knew you lacked maturity at 18 when you decided to lace the words with venom in the hurt you were bathed in, from the possibility he didn’t accept these feelings despite stealing your first kiss. Even your naivety proved itself true from the way the tears of your frustration started to swell within your water lines. But all of those things didn’t matter if you could only figure how everything suddenly went south as if suddenly your words don’t even matter anymore when he’s about to reach the golden knob of the wooden door. 

 “Wait so this means you like me? Come on, you kissed me back! At least tell me. You were so fucking ironic on making me tell you how I felt so at least tell me how you do.” You call, standing up to now chase after him before pulling on his arm. 

Suguru stops. 

He stands still for a moment, deciding to give you the decency of his direct attention. You should’ve been glad for that. But what he says afterwards, you wish he had spared you a saint’s mercy to leave you clueless. 

 “I don’t. I could never love you. Forget that kiss. It was a mistake. All it was.” He almost raises his voice when he says this, making sure every single fragment of your soul hears his regret in agreeing to whatever spell you had put him under at that moment.  Suguru loses the warmth he once had in his touch before he tugs away from your grasp once more, likely to escape to the  downstairs of your house. 

You knew it was no use to cry, how he wouldn’t magically accept your feelings even if you had a tantrum right there and then, but you couldn’t help but let droplets about a river's amount run down your cheeks. There was nothing left to say now clearly. No words in the immense vocabulary of the world to convince him to stay. Silence had carried itself to be all that the air contained now, leaving it to be heavy as you had anticipated to soon hear the sound of the door opening and closing from his departure. The silence cuts itself though when you hear Suguru whisper under shallow breath.

“Don’t cry over me you know, just, let’s pretend it didn’t happen. Please. Can’t bear to see you cry.” 

 A scoff releases amidst the chokes bunched in your throat at that statement, but your heart betrays you when your tears seem to dry to mist as his hand reaches to sooth the top of your heart. Its weight leaves after a blink, and then you hear a rushed sorry, the sound of the door closing follows it. 

 “Go. Go away.” You manage the guts to spit despite the lack of  his presence in this inhospitable space. With nothing else to do, you decide to see if your friends were somehow awake this morning to go bother, hurriedly throwing pillows to the ground in search for your almost dead phone most likely. You locate it finally, and you plan to call the two friends you knew were definitely up by the way they texted you and Suguru last night to come visit in the morning. 

Maybe they were expecting Suguru to come with you, but no way in hell. 

“Hey, Can I come over later? Before 10? Happy birthday by the way, Kana.” You say when they pick up the call, trying to clear the congestion in your chest to not make the breakdown you had a moment before so obvious. Kana. Your other best friend. Satoru, your very close friend. Surely both of them had space for you even before the agreed meet up time.

 And luckily for you, they did have space by the way their voices reach a pitch no like other to say of course you could. You’re quick to say thanks and end the call, collapsing to sit against the wall of this tiny bedroom. Kana’s birthday gifts remain stagnant on the shelves of your wall to remind you to take it when it leaves, but it serves to leave you in the agony of the misfortune that your first ever rejection came from her older brother. 

 How would you even tell Suguru’s sister and best friend that you tried telling him about your longtime crush? You would have to figure that out before nine o'clock, and with about thirty minutes to spare, you take the liberty to scream into the pillow with your back facing the ceiling for a good chunk of the time about it. Like a child you kicked and yelled to seemingly no end, possibly hoping that somewhere inside the wretchedness barely held behind the cages of your ribs, Suguru would hear this anguish you’re going through and finally tell you he was simply joking in the end; however, the room remains silent. 

 All that could ever have a hint of sound now came from the emerging fragments of your thoughts, how they attempt to consume woe to dare convince you that this was the right thing. for the better of it, of course. it couldn’t be you in the end if Suguru had desired success. Yet, somewhere inside the unfurling chaos in which you start to pick at the skin at the tips of your fingers, you start to sob once more. If he was doing the right thing, why was it hurting so much? 

Almost fifteen minutes later, gravity seems to have abandoned you when you force yourself  to rise from the wrinkled sheets you ruined and your knees can barely stand straight; however, your hurt forces you to find something decent to wear despite this fatigue, likely out of the consolation that “you didn’t need his validation anyways”. You then tie your sneakers as you stare out to gauge what weather you’ll curse (the one you realize you have dressed too thin for), and that’s when you witness a familiar presence from before. 

Because in your hurt, you somehow see the same butterfly from this morning flap its wings again, now taking haste to depart from the still it once occupied. 

[yoo-jeongneon]

the sticky tab series | ground floor (0)

× minors/ageless/empty blogs dni. you will be blocked. ×

× series masterlist × main masterlist × × next -> × seventeen (ot13) x gn!reader genre: mystery, thriller, drama warnings: explicit language, hostility, suspense, fear word count: 2.5k taglist: @hipsdofangirl × @strawberri-uyu × @asyre × @minhui896

× you arrived at the silent dweller, only to find not all was as it seemed.. ×

You arrived at the Silent Dweller. Fitting name, you thought. Based on your research, there were eight floors and fourteen apartments: ground floor (0) had a reception desk and a wall of mailboxes, and there were two apartments on each floor from 1-7.

You took a printed photo out of your bag of what the block looked like upon completion six years ago. Holding it up in front of your face, the difference was staggering. The building now looked so desolate by comparison.

Lowering your hand, you swallowed the bitter taste of saliva down.

A chill swept over you and messed with the nearby trees. The wind whistled against the panes of glass separating the dark interiors of the building from the warm invite of the outside world.

Your car called to you, almost sounding its alarm in an attempt to get you running back to it, but it was too far away despite the thirty-second distance. You put the photo back in your bag and took a deep breath.

With your first step towards the Silent Dweller, you pushed away the warmth until you were firmly inside the building.

Six floors up, a figure stepped away from the window.

.

The first surprise was that the door was even unlocked and able to be opened. You instantly felt like the disturbance, an unwanted presence, and yet that didn't deter you. You carefully took one, two, three more steps in.

A tiny, abandoned reception desk sat immediately to your left, and ahead was both an elevator and a door leading to a set of stairs. Upon closer inspection, you recognised an OUT OF ORDER sign on the elevator, and wondered just how long that had been there and why it had never been fixed if people did actually live here.

You passed the reception desk, chest riddled with nerves and uncertainty. You caught a glimpse of a folded up piece of paper tucked under the computer's keyboard, seemingly untouched since it was first put there.

Tilting your head to the side, brows furrowed in perplexion, you tried to read the rather messy handwriting; your eyes widened in shock.

read this if you're feeling brave, nosy fucker stranger

You jolted back from the desk as though the piece of paper spoke to you. It was so unabashedly harsh that you almost wanted to turn away, but something pulled you in, and you eventually grabbed the folded page from under the keyboard and opened it up.

oh, so you actually picked this up, eh? good news you're the chosen one. kidding, of course but hey, if it makes you feel better, who am i to judge? welcome to .. what is it they call this place? the silent dweller or some shit? fucking hell it's such a shit nickname. whoever came up with it needs to be fired. i'm guessing you're not too busy because you've found time to actually come here. what a strange one you are. no one comes here, we're like the lost city of atlantis or something. we actually liked it like that, but of course there's also all the, ooh scary place, how bizarre and strange, don't go there!! we're just thirteen regular guys. we didn't bring attention to ourselves. in fact it's other people who have given this place the attention. calling it the "silent dweller" and stuff. that's why i'm calling you a nosy fucker but.. that's quite harsh actually let me go change it.. that's a bit better .. more accurately reflects you. i mean.. you are kind of a nosy fucker though.. and you're probably a journalist. even worse. if you are a journalist go straight to 6B. don't go to 3A. unless you want a fight. anyways that's it. thanks for visiting the silent dweller. or whatever you wanna call it. don't call it that though. anything but that. what a shit nickname. - 4B

You gripped the paper in your shivering hands, the intensity of the words looming over you like a warning beacon. It was like a figure tapping you once, twice, three times on the shoulder, laughing in your ear and subtly pushing you towards the stairs while castigating you for even thinking to step through the door.

and you're probably a journalist. even worse.

Wow, you thought. Read me for filth, why don't you, rang the sarcasm in your head.

if you are a journalist go straight to 6B

6B? You had no idea what you'd find there, of course, other than the man living there. Is he a journalist himself? Does he hate journalists and it's a setup for an ambush?

You looked down at the paper again.

don't go to 3A. unless you want a fight.

That was the moment you suddenly came back to life.

Your eyes widened in fear and you threw the piece of paper on the floor.

Holy fuck.. holy fuck.. people live here?!

Sweat began to build along your hairline and you clutched your bag close to you. Your legs started to shake and it felt like you were going to lose your balance.

People live here.. people live here..

The panicked voice in your head only strengthened when you looked to the ceiling. Standing outside the building, you couldn't even begin to tell that the apartment block had any residents at all.

It was called the Silent Dweller - there was no evidence to suggest..

A shiver trickled down your spine. No evidence.

That didn't necessarily mean no one moved in.

It just meant there was no record of it.

Step by step, you backed away from the elevator and set of stairs but they only seemed to be getting closer, as if the walls were narrowing the space between you.

Just then, a large gust of wind howled right through the window, and with low clouds sitting heavy in the sky, you were certain it was beginning to rain.

You drew the paper on the floor into sharp focus as it sat pristinely. The words floated their way towards you, and you remembered one section that stood out above all.

no one comes here, we're like the lost city of atlantis or something. we actually liked it like that, but of course there's also all the, ooh scary place, how bizarre and strange, don't go there!!

It was that that made you finally relax.

Thirteen regular guys, isolated in this apartment block, no evidence that they ever moved in. No one's ever come here and this block has been reduced to a shell of its imposing exterior and distance from the rest of the local community.

i mean.. you are kind of a nosy fucker though..

With firm strides, you approached the piece of paper and picked it up from the floor to give it a second read.

Whoever wrote this was deeply frustrated with both the attention, and the reputation. And the nickname.

don't call it that though. anything but that. what a shit nickname.

What a shit nickname.

Folding the piece of paper, you placed it back under the keyboard and took a breath. To your right was the wall of mailboxes. Looking closer, you noticed they were all shut tight, and you were not about to snoop and see if any were unlocked. Not your mail, not your business.

There were seven rows of mailboxes, two to each row, and there was an A and a B assigned to each number. 1A, 1B, 2A, 2B, 3A, 3B, 4A, 4B, 5A, 5B, 6A, 6B, 7A, 7B.

What struck you was that there were only thirteen residents, despite there being fourteen apartments. You pondered briefly why no one ever moved into the fourteenth apartment, or if someone did, and that they moved out.

Another glance towards the set of stairs made you feel dizzy.. Was this really a good idea? Should you really be doing this?

Perhaps it was time to leave the Silent Dw- the apartment block, get back in your car and drive away..

The phone began to ring.

Not your phone. The one at reception.

Its loud, dulcet tones reverberated off every wall like it had never seen a caller since it was first installed.

It startled you, and you placed a hand over your chest. Jesus, fuck.

Staring at the phone on the desk, you had both never been so compelled to answer, and so compelled to run at the same time.

These guys were strangers! At the end of the day, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into, and there could absolutely not be a worse idea-

You picked up the phone.

Curiosity was never going to kill a journalist.

"May I just say, first of all, how completely and utterly unsurprising it is that you answered?"

You swallowed. The tone on the other end was flat, neutral, not menacing in the least and yet, that made it ten times more terrifying.

"A- Are you from 6B?"

"Let me guess, that was in that note of his? Classic move, bastard."

The last three words were muttered, and said in a way that was not directed at you. You surmised it was for the man responsible for the letter.

"Yes, I am in 6B." The sigh of exasperation was palpable. "I suppose he also put something to the effect of 'go there if you're a journalist' or something?"

You furrowed your brows. This was deeply disconcerting. "Y- Yes. How did you-"

"Because he has a propensity for pissing me off. It's his bread and butter." Another sigh. "I guess if you'd like to come up you can."

You were ready to fling the phone to the other side of the room. "Come up?" you asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes? I wouldn't mean it in any other way."

"Well.." You hedged your bets for mere seconds. "Is there a reason why 4B may have directed me to you?"

"So you are a journalist," he said noncommittally. There was a drawn out pause. "I'll say this. I share your experience."

For a second, you thought you knew what he meant, but in the end realised you would never know unless you actually had a conversation with him. "Right. And 3A?"

"Oh, don't tell me he mentioned that.."

"Only in part. Just a word about not going to 3A unless I want a fight."

"For your own sake, I'd actually listen to that."

Joys, you thought. Someone in this apartment actively wants to spar. Can't imagine what that would be like.

"As I said, I am in 6B. Sixth floor. Don't take the elevator, it's been broken for.. months."

"You never called the maintenance people?"

"And call greater attention by actually announcing that people live here? We've already got the name and the bloated stories, let us enjoy our solitude."

You hummed at that, unable to argue, while also unable to reconcile that you were essentially disrupting said solitude.

The man at the other end sensed this hesitation. "I would like to believe you've come from genuine understanding. An empathetic perspective. Rather than to drill holes in our walls and yell our names to the public."

You considered the words as you chewed on the inside of your lip, nerves teeming through every pore. "I didn't come here with the idea that someone definitely did live here. In fact, when I saw the note and read it and it sank in that people did, I was ready to go and leave you all! I feel like I've disturbed you and I don't want to cause you further trouble.."

The man scoffed a little, a tiny smirk forming. "Then I welcome you to the Silent Dweller. We all genuinely hate that nickname."

The humour wasn't lost and you couldn't help but chuckle. What a bizarre exchange. "Is there a name you would all prefer?"

"Call it by its project name. Do you know it?"

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head to yourself. He chuckled at the silence, waiting patiently to see if you'd answer.

For a second you thought you weren't going to give into this game, but you figured you'd rather just say it and not throw the whole conversation to the void.

"Project Drawbridge. Or just Drawbridge for short. Because of its distance from the local community, it was likened to needing a drawbridge to get to it, like you'd need one for a castle."

You didn't see it, but the man smiled. "6B. And what is your name?"

With a huff, you pushed your shoulders back. "N."

"Well, N, I will see you in a few minutes."

The phone clicked, and you put the receiver down.

You couldn't even begin to comprehend what just happened there.

The folded piece of paper that you tucked back under the keyboard almost started clawing its way out from its grasp. Picking it up again, you shoved it in your bag and inhaled, then exhaled.

6B. I guess I shouldn't keep him waiting.

What the fuck was going on? You found you didn't have much time to answer. Your hand was already pushing the door to the stairs, bypassing the elevator as both the OUT OF ORDER sign and the man from 6B instructed.

The second you were in the stairwell, you wrapped your arms around yourself. There was zero insulation and although the fire exit was shut, it still seemed to be letting in a draft somehow. You wondered if there was a stray window open somewhere.

Gazing up, you saw the flights of stairs that would take you between all seven of these floors.

Two flights of stairs later and you were confronted with a closed set of double doors that led to the first pair of apartments. You didn't dawdle, and continued the path up the stairs, tensing slightly at the third floor when you remembered 3A was the apartment to avoid.

By the time you reached the sixth floor, you were quite tired.

After taking a few seconds to catch your breath, you opened one of the doors and waltzed into the open corridor.

One side, 6A.

On the other, 6B.

No noise was coming from either apartment. Nothing remarkable was to be said about them as well; they both had red doors with a gold plated number and letter in the centre near the top.

The carpet was a similar red. It was a change from the stony tile of the stairwell.

Cautiously sauntering over to 6B, you softly clenched your fist and raised it to knock on the door.

Within seconds, it opened.

A man of average height stood before you, his hair a mix of washed out blonde and brown roots that gently tugged the back of his neck. He wore a cream sweater with black jeans, and immediately you noticed something akin to a coffee stain clinging to the wool near the hem.

"My God-" you blurted, before clasping a hand over your mouth. You knew you had just been talking to this man, but seeing him in the flesh is quite surreal.

"N." He held out his hand. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You returned the gesture, shaking it. "Pleasure's all mine."

"Come in." He stepped to the side, and you nodded your head in gratitude before entering and taking off your shoes.

After shutting the door behind him, he moved to stand in front of you.

"Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Wen Junhui."

× yoo-jeongneon ×

[loreleis-short-stories]

Burning for him

The city of Vetra was a place of light, its skyline glittering with hope, and its people known for their unwavering morality. At least, that’s what Elise Ashworth had always believed. A celebrated hero and protector of Vetra, she had dedicated her life to upholding justice, shielding the innocent, and defeating evil at every turn. That was, of course, before he arrived.

Kieran Vale—better known as the Black Flame—was a force of nature. A rogue with the power to summon fire at his fingertips, he left chaos in his wake: banks robbed, monuments toppled, and entire districts set ablaze. The city hated him, feared him, and demanded that Elise stop him.

The first time she faced him, she knew he was trouble. Standing atop a burning rooftop, with smoke curling around his broad shoulders and the glint of flames reflecting in his piercing gray eyes, Kieran was undeniably dangerous—and stupidly attractive.

Elise landed in front of him, cape whipping dramatically in the wind. “Surrender now, Kieran. This city won’t fall to you.”

Kieran smirked, his lips curling into something infuriatingly cocky. “It’s cute that you think you can stop me, starshine.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the nickname, but she didn’t dare let it show. Their fight was intense—heat and light clashing as her energy blasts collided with his infernos. Yet, as their battles continued, something changed.

At first, it was subtle: his taunts became playful, her counters less biting. Then, during one confrontation, he saved her. A collapsing building had caught her off guard, and instead of leaving her to be crushed, Kieran had swept her out of danger.

“You’re welcome,” he teased, setting her down as flames danced harmlessly around them.

“You’re supposed to be the bad guy,” she muttered, shaken by the warmth of his arms.

“Maybe I am,” he replied, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. “But even villains can have weak spots.” His gaze lingered, and for the first time, Elise felt the walls of her moral fortress crack.

Weeks passed, and their encounters turned into secret meetings. Kieran wasn’t just the villain the city painted him as—he was intelligent, witty, and heartbreakingly vulnerable beneath his fiery exterior.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” he confessed one night, his head resting on her lap as they hid in an abandoned warehouse. “This city never gave me a chance. So I decided to take what I needed.”

Elise should have been disgusted. She should have arrested him. Instead, she found herself tracing the scar along his jaw, wondering how someone so broken could look at her with such devotion.

It didn’t take long for Vetra to notice her slipping focus. Criminals went unpunished, and the Black Flame’s schemes became more daring. She stopped fighting him altogether, letting his chaos reign unchecked.

Her closest allies confronted her one night. “You’re letting him win,” her partner, Adrian, accused. “People are dying because of you.”

“I’m not the one setting the fires,” she snapped, her voice laced with guilt. But deep down, she knew Adrian was right.

The final straw came when Kieran demanded she choose. “Come with me,” he said, standing at the edge of the city’s tallest tower, the skyline ablaze behind him. “Forget this place, these people—they don’t deserve you. They don’t deserve us.”

Elise hesitated, her mind racing. She thought of the oaths she’d taken, the lives she’d sworn to protect. But then she looked at Kieran—his hand outstretched, his eyes burning with something that felt like love—and she realized she didn’t care.

“I’m tired of being their hero,” she whispered, stepping forward and taking his hand.

As they vanished into the night, Vetra erupted in flames. The city would rebuild, as it always did, but it would never see Elise Ashworth again. She had abandoned her morals, her purpose, her self—all for a villain who made her heart burn brighter than the fires he set.

And truthfully? She didn’t regret a thing.

[the-whispers-of-death]

All the new states after the nuclear bomb and the demon invasion

Alabama is now Howard, and the country controls all of the imports of the top drug Abraham (note: the bomb that dropped mutated a lot of living things, including copperhead snakes, and the venom in copperheads were also mutated and ppl found a way to turn it into a drug and it is very popular) The new "Prime Minister" is Ms Brittany Amber and she runs a tight ass ship and does not partake in Abraham. The main cities in Howard are Pollux Sonus and Hanglo

Arizona got got back in the Verde Era and was straight up colonized along with a bit of California, New Mexico, and Texas and was originally named New Blanc, but when the Azure Era started and things went to shit and it got taken over by Mr and Mrs Pacheco and they named it Moruga named after the village that Mr Pacheco grew up in Trinidad. The main towns and cities in Moruga are Patience Es Dorado, Urgence Es Plateado, Quechua Condor, Hellsville(where Malcolm was from originally), and The Dark Red Crater which was the town Malcolm moved to with his husband. He actually turned it into a crater btw there's nothing there

Arkansas is now Malachi and is number one apocalyptic Christian state, and everyone who lives there hates living there! :D nothing to report. No demons secretly controlling the prime minister or possessing 29% of the population so they can do a state sacrifice to make Satan stronger. (And the demon Lucillia certainly didn't choose Malachi because there was a cute delivery girl there) it's all in God's willArkansas is now Malachi and is number one apocalyptic Christian state, and everyone who lives there hates living there! :D nothing to report. No demons secretly controlling the prime minister or possessing 29% of the population so they can do a state sacrifice to make Satan stronger. (And the demon Lucillia certainly didn't choose Malachi because there was a cute delivery girl there) it's all in God's will

California is now New Cali and it is absolute chaos. Seriously, there are no rulers, everyone just governs themselves, and the citizens killed their prime minister. Everyone there is either high, drunk, having sex in the street, or just naked with their bits swaying in the wind. The citizens dont even consider themselves apart of the United States. Ppl outside of New Cali have nicknamed it Anarchy Paradise, and they get a lot of tourists because of the amount of spa resorts and bathouses in Los Demonios. Even demons visit New Cali. The most popular places in New Cali are Santa Barbie, Los Demonios, Haetheam, Karl, Malibou, and Vora Deigo. (Fun fact the "capital" of Vora Deigo is called Bear Paseo, and Hari was a masseuse)

Colorado is now Deere and the only thing that changed during an apocalypse is way more cannabis strains and a lot of people riding mutated wild animals their "prime minister" is just this dude who talks to turkeys and fully understands them. Not a lot happens except for the occasional business trade with demons. Why do demons need that much weed? Who knows, but Deere citizens dont ask because they get resources in return. The most popular places in Colorado are Dorin(for their relaxing hotsprings), Vidalia, Denver Square, and Tunica.

Connecticut is now Polar Star, and they have a lot of animal trafficking and human trafficking. The guy who runs Polar Star is a complete sicko (not My Sicko) and multiple states have tried to take him down. Nobody wants to fucking visit there and will actively avoid going there if they need to get to Marden Island. The most "popular" place in Polar Star is Heartford, Hell Haven, Starford and Nova.

Florida is now Caima and it is... Intresting. Yeah. Intresting. Florida is already crazy on its own but Caima is somehow crazier. There was an alligator vs human war. The gators won. Caimans love the water they hold surfing tournaments as if the country isn't falling apart into chaos (Margo was the reigning champion of the Caima surfing tournaments before she left) The most popular places in Caima are Mors Republic, Orlanda, New Tampa, Inali and Inalia Beach.

I'm sleepy now il do the rest later

-🔮

Not the alligators winning the alligators vs humans war. RIP to my state.

The citizens of New Cali killing their Prime Minster? Gasp.

It's all so interesting.

[arjaandsimoni]

Sausages

Once Upon a Time…

In the mid-1800s, Cincinnati was the city for pork. The city was famous for it, even so far as to be nicknamed ‘Porkopolis.’

It was a prime location for it in those days. The Ohio River made transportation easy, and there was farmland all around the city perfect for raising livestock, and the city made its fortune off porkchops, bacon, sausages, and pig fats and oils for candles and soaps among other things. It was a rare day in Cincinnati to not see a herd of pigs being guided through the streets towards one of the many warehouses to be processed before being loaded onto barges and sent along the Ohio to Pittsburg, Paducah, Boston, and all over the map.

But, of course, herding dozens of squealing, confused, and nearly panicked pigs through a city street was difficult at the best of times… and sometimes they had to deal with escapees.

It was one such pig who made a break for it on a hot summer’s day in 1854, fleeing from the herd down a side street as the workers raised the alarm, two young men going after it. The pig fled in a blind panic, going down one side street, then another, then down one alleyway, then another, then another, and another alleyway, and two more after that, and again and again… until the sounds of the city grew distant.

The pig eventually slowed, exhausted from its flight, and were it a thinking creature it might have noticed that the alleyway looked wrong now. The buildings towered above it, and strange thorny roots grew up from the cracks in the cobblestones. There were odd posters on the walls in archaic languages or showing bizarre otherworldly beings… but being a simple pig, it did not realize anything was amiss.

Thus, the pig eventually trotted off in search of food… deep into the winding depths and madness of the Hedge. One might wonder how a simple animal could have chanced their way into such a realm, but the Wyrd and Fate are fickle and unknowable things.

However, the little pig never left… and over the years and decades of eating goblin fruit and living among the briars, it stopped being little. It grew strong and became… if not intelligent then at least very cunning. Some part of its piggy little mind remembered where it came from, and the likely fate of the other pigs… and its piggy little mind rebelled against that.

… and the Wyrd, in its whimsy, decided to help the little pig.

Now, the little pig is no longer little at all, and could barely be called a pig. It lived among the Hedge’s reflection of the city, making its home near the riverfront that had seen the remains of so many of its kin off to their final destination as someone’s dinner, light source, or bathing tools… and if anyone comes into its territory, well… they won’t be going home, but they will certainly be crying.

Maybe not crying ‘wee wee wee,’ but crying all the same.

The Hedge, Present Day

Nelen stumbled out of the ruined van, clutching at his head and hissing through his teeth. “Uhnnn…” he gasped for breath, leaning against the doorframe as his vision swam into focus, then he looked around and shook his head firmly. “Guys! Sound off, anyone hurt?” he called out.

The backdoor of the van burst open, kicked firmly from inside by a pair of simian legs, as Arja scrambled out in her vanara form and pulled Simoni and Natasha free of the wreckage. “Just bruises Nelen…” she nodded.

Simoni flopped down onto the pathway, looking around with a shudder. She’d never seen this place before, but she knew what it was. Anyone who was part of Clan Fullmoon grew up knowing tales of the Hedge and its dangers. The goblins and hobgoblins who made their homes in the strange mirror-realm to Earth, the various goblin fruits which could be helpful or could be dangerous or even deadly, the ever-present threat of the briars themselves which could sap the very will and soul from an unwary traveler, and of course the chance of running afoul of one of the Fae themselves.

Natasha looked around, the vampire’s eyes narrowing as Dawn appeared ontop of the wrecked vehicle, the cheshire’s tail fluffed out. “Hm… here again…” murmured the vampire.

“Quite.” came a reply as Prince Samuel strode into view, his hand resting openly on his sword. Simoni’s eyebrows went up at the sight of him, and even Arja found herself having trouble looking away.

In the mortal realm a changeling’s true appearance was hidden by a sort of ‘mask,’ an illusion to make them appear, if not normal, then passably mortal. The Hedge, however, stripped all such things away.

Sammi stood there, his eyes a shining blue like the sky on a clear day in deepest winter, his hair glistening like spun gold and waving as if caught in an unseen breeze. There was a strange chill about him as well. His steps trailed snowy footprints, and a dusting of snow gathered on his shoulders… though it was not currently snowing where they were.

“Sorry about that everyone…” came an apologetic voice as Stephy flapped down from above, landing next to his adoptive sibling as he transformed back into his more humanoid form. Like Sammi, his features were more pronounced, more… elfin than they normally would be, and he too carried a trail of snow around him though, if anything, his was even more obvious than his brother’s. “But Sammi and I saw police cruisers closing in and, well… yeah…” he sighed, “There were at least eight of them that we saw. Probably more on the way.”

Nelen swore, then nodded to them. “I get it…” he replied, fishing a bottle of aspirin out of his bag and downing two of them in one gulp, then stuffing it away. He’d smacked his head on the steering wheel when the van crashed and it was only his inborn Fullmoon resilience that meant he had a nasty bump as opposed to a concussion or worse. “But still, we need to find a safe exit point as quick as we can. Preferably somewhere far enough into the city to call the Wulfshead door or at least on the Kentucky side so we can get back to Covington.”

Sammi hesitated, “Er… it may be more difficult than that Nelen. Were it not for the direness of our situation, I would have preferred to fight off the mortal authorities personally…”

The group looked at the two changelings, even Dawn raising her eyebrow at that, then Nelen frowned. “Okay… you’d have rather fought mundy cops than risk travel in the Hedge. Why?” he asked pointedly.

Stephy whined, rubbing at his arm, “Because there’s something really nasty that lives in the Hedge along the riverfront… and we’ll have to go through it’s territory to get close to where Cincinnati is.” he nodded.

Simoni stood up next to Arja as the vanara girl went close to her, her eyes darting towards the briars. Even Natasha seemed concerned, this was clearly a realm where she was no longer a predator.

“… and that something is?” asked Nelen.

Sammi shrugged, “Well, therein lies the rub Nelen…” he murmured.

Stephy nodded, “Yeah, we don’t… actually know. We just know that any changelings who try to travel along the riverfront through the Hedge… well… more often than not they don’t come back.”

Nelen frowned, then sighed, “Well, can we go back out the way we came? Hide out in the van until sunrise and hitchhike or call an uber or something?” he asked.

Sammi shook his head. “Afraid not, it doesn’t work that way. There are established gates to the Hedge, but what my sibling and I did was akin to prying open a window, which slammed shut and locked behind us.” he nodded, gesturing to the path behind them. There were a clear set of erratic tire marks leading back from the van right up to where they suddenly stopped in the middle of the path. “Easy enough to get in from the mortal realm’s side, but to leave… well…” he sighed, “Thats always the tricky part.”

Nelen sighed at that, then nodded. “Alright, well, if nothing else Cernunnos was a fae lord way back in prehistory… maybe he can just, I dunno, outrank whatever lives here.” he shrugged, then shuddered a bit before adding, “… he says, ‘don’t count on it.’” in an annoyed grumble.

The group looked around, seeing only a single path stretching out before them through the briars… but Sammi pointed up above the trees. In the distance they could make out what, at first blush, looked like the skyline of the city… though upon closer inspection parts of it looked wrong. The buildings didn’t stand straight, and the lights in their windows made out odd patterns. “That’s the Hedge’s version of Cincinnati… as long as we can see that we can at least have a touchstone to where we’re going, but by the Wyrd be careful. Do not stray from the path, whatever you do or see, and try to stay as quiet as you can. Not everything here is dangerous… but it can be very hard to tell what is and is not.” he warned, turning on his heel and setting off down the path. “Now come on. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

The group filed along behind him, though Nelen kept a hand on his messenger bag as they went and Arja opted to remain in her vanara form. Simoni considered taking to the air, but a glance upwards dissuaded that pretty quickly. The trees here had long skeletal limbs seeming to end in wicked spikes with thorns wrapped around them, and she could just imagine them reaching out and grabbing a passing bird like a tomcat eager for a meal. Even then, it was winter in the Hedge as well, and the cold was already beginning to affect her badly.

Finally the garuda spoke up, “You guys really don’t have any idea what’s such a big threat around here? Anything at all?” she asked.

The prince shook his head, “Only rumor and hearsay…” replied Sammi, “A few odd things from those lucky few who made it through unmolested, each time because they didn’t encounter whatever haunts this stretch of the Hedge.”

Simoni glanced into the briars, and for a moment she thought she saw something running past in the gloom, darting between the trees… but a moment later it was clear it was just the wind knocking some snow loose from above. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise, her teeth chattering from far more than the winter’s chill.

“… things like the sound of metal grinding, or a faint snorting and snuffling sound in the distance, or a large shape among the thorns that they were fortunate enough to go unnoticed by.” he clarified.

The group glanced around, Natasha feeling uncomfortably like she was being watched. A vampire would still be a powerful foe in the Hedge for most threats, but she couldn’t be certain of defeating something on its home turf… and if one of the Gentry showed up, all bets were off. They could only flee and hope.

They trekked on for what felt like hours, the van eventually vanishing behind them to be left to whatever fate the briars held. Maybe it would be broken down for spare parts by industrious goblins, maybe it would become some sort of strange hedge-creature itself over time, or maybe it would simply be left to rust.

Eventually, Nelen pointed ahead of them. To their left was the twisted Hedge-version of Cincinnati’s buildings, but now to their right was a massive stretch of liquid that could only be this reality’s version of the Ohio River, with a huge bridge spanning it lit by strangely flickering lights. “There. We’re almost out.” he nodded, and the group heaved a relieved sigh… until a sudden shout came from behind them.

“HEY!” came a voice, the group jumping in shock, then turning to see someone standing there in the gloom.

Stephy started a bit, recognizing him… or at least, what was left of him. “You! You’re that vampire that was harassing our classmate!” he shouted.

“That’s MALIK to you bitch!” he snarled, stumbling forward, his fangs bared.

His time in the briars had not been kind to Malik. The vampire’s skin was pierced through in several spots with thorny vines that he had clearly tried and failed to remove, wrapped firmly around his limbs, and half his face had been scratched away to reveal his teeth and gumline. He dripped blood as he walked, and not much, the vampire having likely found little to feed on among the thorns… but now his eyes glowed a baleful crimson as he eyed the group before him.

“Beware…” whispered Natasha, “He is but a child, but his fear and hunger have made him desperate. I cannot be certain what he will do…” she nodded, preparing to block his way.

“Days… weeks… I dunno how fucking long its been… but I’m so godsdamn HUNGRY!” he snarled, “AND I’M GOING TO TAKE IT OUT OF EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! FEEL THE WRATH OF THE LORD OF THE NI-…” he began, then suddenly he jerked to a halt, his sentence ending in a wet sounding gurgle.

Malik looked down, and so did everyone else, to see a shiny metal hook sticking through his middle. “W-where did…” he choked, then suddenly he flew backwards with a scream, the hook attached to a long chain stretching behind him.

“Oh shit…” whispered Nelen.

“Sammi, was that the thing you were talking about?!” growled Arja, conjuring as big a flame as she could against the chill of the winter-locked Hedge.

“Oak and ash it must be!” he exclaimed, drawing his rapier as a massive shape trundled forward into the moonlight.

The beings who lived within the Hedge were, by and large, known as either goblins or hobgoblins. The former were more civilized, intelligent, and favored making deals and doing business with changelings and others who knew of them. There was a reason it was called The Goblin Market after all. That being said, not all goblins were nice, and their deals had a nasty way of biting one in the rear. They sometimes did it for their own gain, or they did it because they found it amusing to do so.

Hobgoblins however, were a different breed. They were the Wild Things of the Hedge, the Unseelie to the goblin's Seelie. They were powerful, often moreso than their goblin cousins, and quite often very very wicked. The wolf who impersonated a sweet little girl's grandmother, the seemingly nice old woman who offered wandering children sweets and to come in out of the cold, and sometimes ones that didn't even bother with that pretense. These were the things that went bump in the night. These were the monsters that haunted the closets and the gap beneath the bed... and if a mortal creature stayed in the Hedge for too long, they may find themselves joining their ranks.

The little piggy was no longer little. Decades in the hedge had warped him from a small farm animal into a massive bipedal hobgoblin! His snout twitched eagerly as drool dribbled out between two massive tusks, the creature standing on its hind legs as its potbelly jiggled with each step. It held the chain of a meathook in one hoof-like hand, and in the other it held a huge and extremely sharp looking butcher’s knife! Its skin was pink, almost cartoonishly so, but its mouth and belly were stained a dark brownish red, where blood had dried and crusted over years and years.

Hanging over its back, from another meathook, was the struggling form of Malik the vampire, trying in vain to free himself.

The porcine monster cocked its head, snorting loudly. “Meat? Fresh meat? Lovely meat, tuppence a pound!” it growled out, sounding like a barker at the butcher’s market might. It didn’t sound like it really understood what it said, more like it was just mimicking the words like a parrot might.

Sammi glanced at Stephy, “My dear, there should be a glass jar full of what looks like honey in your bag…” he said, “I want you to take it out, take the lid off, and toss it at him as hard as you can.”

Stephy nodded, reaching into his purse, then finding it. It didn’t look like much, not even the size of a soda can, but he unstoppered it, then threw it towards the hobgoblin!

The pig-like beast squealed and his right arm was a blur, slashing out with the butcher’s knife and shattering the jar… then pausing and looking at the blade, now coated with the sticky honey. “Honeyed ham? Thruppence? Just the thing for Christmas Dinner?” it tried, then suddenly a buzzing filled the air.

“RUN! EVERYONE RUN NOW!” shouted the changeling prince as they turned and ran away from the beast and a massive cloud of bees emerged from the woods nearby! Normally they would slumber away the winter, but if one stole their honey the entire hive would swarm the offending creature!

They were huge things, as big as an adult’s closed fist, and each one had a wicked looking stinger that dripped a vile green fluid, and a disturbingly human-like face with huge multifaceted eyes and a long proboscis that flicked out of an all too human mouth!

“Honey thief!” the swarm buzzed in fury, “Wretched filthy greedy thief! Sting them! Sting the thief!”

The pig-hobgoblin cried out in pain as it flailed it’s butcher’s knife, trying to slice away it’s insectoid attackers. “BAD BATCH! FLIES GOT TO IT! LEAVE IT FOR THE DOGS!” it squealed in agony as the group fled the scene, making as fast as they could for the Hedge version of the city.

The group had barely gotten a hundred yards when a furious squeal came behind them and the ground began to shake. Simoni dared a glance and screamed as the pig trundled into view, swirling a hook above its head menacingly.

“BREAKOUT! STOCK ESCAPING! CATCH ‘EM OR YOU PAY TEN PENCE A HEAD FOR EACH THAT GETS AWAY, LAYABOUTS!” it roared, lashing out with the hook as Simoni let out another scream, but a different sort. The wind howled through the thorns and a blast of air shot over their heads, knocking the hook off course and into a tree, hooking it through the wood!

The pig snorted in fury and tugged hard, trying to free it as its muscles bulged… but Stephy took this as an opportunity. He reached into his purse and pulled out another bellbomb pepper, “This is my last one guys! Make it count!” he warned, tearing the stem off and throwing it as hard as he could as Simoni whistled up another gale, bouncing it up towards the hobgoblin’s face.

The goblin fruit exploded and the pig-hobgoblin squealed in fury and pain, thrashing about as it tore the hook free, the tree crashing to the ground as the violent act toppled it! “PEPPERED BACON! PERFECT FOR BREAKFAST!” it cried out, frantically rubbing at its reddening face and eyes as the group laid on the speed, and after another several yards they burst out of the trees and onto a maddened version of the riverfront!

Stephy and Sammi skidded to a halt, looking around frantically. “Find a gate, find a gate…” whined Stephy, then he gasped, “EVERYONE! FOLLOW ME!” he called, running towards a huge building across a large parking lot. As he did the trees erupted as the hobgoblin burst free, sending a group of piskies who had been watching them curiously scattering in all directions.

They made it to the building and skidded to a halt at what appeared to be a metal turnstile, staring into the gloom.

“Now what do we do?!” shouted Arja as Nelen pressed against the metal with his full weight, but it refused to budge.

“It needs a key! Hang on… lemme just…” whined Stephy, focusing on it as hard as he could, then he snapped his fingers. “I got it! Okay, this is gonna look nuts but…” he took a deep breath, then sang, “Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the PARK!” and rushed the gate, which suddenly spun as he vanished.

The group stared, then looked behind them as the pig monster tore through the parking lot, upending cars as it went.

“All together guys!” yowled Dawn, her eyes huge, and as one chorus they all sang the verse and shoved their way through the turnstile… and landed in a heap in a darkened and empty building, the porcine pursuer nowhere to be seen.

Nelen stood up, sliding his glasses back on, and looked around, “… uh, where are we?” he asked.

Stephy giggled awkwardly, dusting off his skirt. “Great American Ballpark, gate number seven.” he nodded, “It’s a Hedge Gate that only opens during the off season, but most people don’t use it because its too public.”

Arja looked around, “Ballpark? Do they play that weird American version of cricket here?” she asked.

“Baseball, but yeah.” replied Nelen as he stretched his back, “Fuck me I’m getting too old for this shit…”

The group picked each other up, then Nelen walked his way to the nearest wall and sighed, “Well… at least now we know what we’re up against. Fucking figures… its not that Al, but its still one who can send an entire city’s worth of undead right up our collective ass.” he frowned.

“Yeah… crazy co-incidence with the names though.” mrowled Dawn. “I mean, if we had a nickel for every time we had to save a city from some nutjob called Al we’d have two nickels… which ain’t a lot, but its weird it happened twice.”

After a moment of silence she frowned, “Really? Not even a chuckle? C’mon! That was too perfect not to use!” she yowled.

“Timing Dawn…” grumbled Nelen as he put his hand on the wall. “Maybe don’t make the joke just after we outrun some cannibal hedge-monster-pig.” he sighed, then said in passable Lemurian, “Open up, you bastards!”

A second later, the Wulfshead door appeared on the wall, and the group walked inside to safety and several very well-earned drinks.

Their foe was now known, not the infamous and powerful demon Agaliarept, but another old enemy of Nelen’s returned to threaten them anew. Vampire Prince Alfred may not be the powerhouse that the hellspawn had been, but he still commanded the undead of Cincinnati and had three powerful allies remaining who would wish to see him remain in power.

Next Story

Previous Story

[its-an-obsession]

Sparks

Celebrity Masterlist | Full Masterlist 

Anonymous Request: Hey! I have a request for Andrew Garfield (as you can see I am obsessed with him, but also your writing! Also this is if you’re not busy, I wouldn’t want to burden!) but anyways this is a request that the reader is a an actress, she also streams video games? She’s got this gamer/tomboy aesthetic going on and she’s very dorky, but very funny. Her older brother is friends with Andrew and the moment her and Andrew meet he instantly falls in love with her? Thank you! Hope you have a lovely night!

A/N: I am so sorry that it took so long, thank you for requesting! Have a great day/week! 😁

Summary: Being an actress had been your dream growing up, but it had its ups and downs. Luckily, you were able to do your other hobbies when you weren't on set. Nikko - your older brother - invites you for a block party with a few of his friends that he's met over the years, that includes his best friend Andrew Garfield. You've heard of the famous best friend, but you've never actually met him. However, you've seen so many of his movies you feel like you do know Andrew. When the two of you meet at the block party, something sparks between the two of you.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/F/V: Your favorite video game

Roxie is your roommate/best friend

You are in the TV show Stranger Things and have made an appearance in the Marvel movies.

Warnings: None

Dialogue Prompts (credits to the original creator):

"I don't know if my actions said it well enough, but I really really like you."

Andrew Garfield x-reader

Blue birds chirped outside my bedroom window in the townhouse that my best friend and I owned in a small town outside of New York city. Straight lines of sunlight scattered across the carpeted flooring, creating little rainbows on the edges of the lines. Crisp, cold wind blew into my bright room, tossing the black curtains to the side. Two monitors sat on my desk, blue strip lights were on the sides of my computers. A keyboard was set in front of them, pink lights peeking out from underneath the keys. Oscar - my pug - sat on the little doggie bed below my white wooden desk, snoring away. I could hear his little legs shuffling back and forth as he dreamt about chasing a squirrel.

I glanced away from my computer, catching Oscar shifting positions. He sighed in satisfaction once he had gotten into his favorite position. I glanced at my phone as I got a notification. I caught sight of a picture above my desk, showing a little polaroid pic of Nikko and his best friend. I hadn't met Andrew Garfield in person, but my agent knew him very well. She had claimed that Andrew loved the movies and TV series I had been in. I was always excited to hear that he had loved the projects that I worked so hard on. Not gonna lie, Andrew Garfield was some eye candy.

I shivered as the breeze brushed against my shoulders. The wind whistled before while I closed the window. I caught a glimpse of the women who lived across the street. She sat on a green metal bench, feeding some birds. Every Friday morning the older neighbor waited for the bus and made sure to bring some bread in her brown satchel. Her husband usually woke up around lunch time so the two of them could go out for walks in the park a couple houses down from mine.

Roxie knocked on the door of my bedroom, causing Oscar to perk up from his bed. He barked slightly and rushed over to my roommate. She smirked and knelt down to pat the top of Oscar's head. The application - Twitch - had finally booted up. I clicked on the login section, typing in my username and password. Roxie walked over and sat on my bed, carrying Oscar with her. I pressed the 'Go Live' button after I decided which game I wanted to play. My best friend left the room, bringing my pug with her.

"Hey guys!" I greeted, "Hope everyone's having a nice Friday afternoon!"

I saw a couple people ask questions about my previous projects that I had been working on, many of them consisted of 'When's the next season of Stranger Things?' or 'Is Chris Evens really hot in person?' and my personal favorite 'Have you met Andrew Garfield?' I lazily shrugged off my flannel and draped it over the back of my chair while I responded to some questions people were posting.

"I have not met Andrew Garfield, but my brother is best friends with him," I answered, beginning to play Y/F/V.

****

(Time Skip: A day later)

Oscar sat beside me, snoring , dreaming his little heart away. A fleece blanket was draped over his small fluffy body. Roxie sat at the foot of my bed, flipping through the channels of the TV that was above my desk. I rolled my eyes at her as she continued to flip through the channels. I scrolled through my Instagram feed, finding Scarlett Johansson had posted a picture of the two of us when I played her daughter in Captain America the Winter Soldier. Many of the comments asked when the next Marvel film would be or asking if I was dating anybody, the answer was always no and no.

I shook my head in amusement and quickly replied to the questions. Roxie leaned over my shoulder, her eyes catching a glimpse of the photo Scarlett had posted. "How is she so hot?" Roxie stated, smirking. I glanced at her and chuckled, shaking my head at her inquiry. Roxie turned her head to finally choose what she wanted to watch for the next few hours. My dog woke up from his slumber and strolled over to Roxie, pressing his back against her leg. My best friend took the blanket from the other side of the bed and laid the blanket over my canine friend's small body.

He bit the corner of the blanket and pulled it over his head. The two of us looked at him, snickering at his quick motion to put his favorite blanket for himself. The sound of my phone ringing made Oscar perk up once more. I sighed and got up from my bed, walking over to my desk. Roxie leaned against the pillow and sat Oscar on her lap, playing with the fur on his ears. I took the charger out from my phone and noticed my brother had texted me.

Nikko: Hey! I'm hosting a block party tonight. You and Roxie are more than welcome to come!🎉🥳

Me: Awesome sauce! What time?

Nikko: Everyone should be coming over at 4:30, tonight! Andrew's coming over, so don't embarrass me!

Me: Can't promise that. 😉

(Read: 2:30)

I rolled my eyes in amusement then slipped my phone into the pocket of my checkered sweatpants. Roxie looked away from the TV with a look of confusion. Oscar lifted up his head from her lap, wondering as to why she had stopped petting him. "Nikko's hosting a block party at his house around 4:30," I spoke, answering her rhetorical thoughts. Roxie nodded her head and sat up from the bed. She noticed my small smirk at the thought of Andrew Garfield attending the party. "What's that?" she inquired, referring to my smile. I whipped my head to her with furrowed brows, my eyes narrowed. I opened the door to my closet and scanned over the articles of clothing.

"Do I not get an answer to that-that smile?" Roxie asked, waving in my general direction. Oscar hopped off the bed and strolled over to his bed underneath the desk, carrying the handmade blanket with him. "Nikko's best friend is coming to the party and I'm just excited to meet him," I answered, truthfully (well sort of). Roxie scoffed and shook her head at my response. "What?" I said, turning to look at her. "Don't tell me it's that Andrew Garfield Spider-Man dude," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Correction, Amazing Spider-Man," I corrected, "and yes he's coming. I promised Nikko that I would not embarrass him, but we all know that's not going to happen." Roxie laughed and sat up from the bed, strolling over to me. My best friend stood beside me and looked at the clothing that I had in my closet. I grabbed a pair of black jeans, a grey Y/F/V t-shirt I was gifted from a fan, and last but not least my leather jacket that I stole from Scarlett. Roxie gave me a thumbs up and left my room, getting ready for the party as well.

I sat at my vanity and put my hair up in a ponytail, letting little pieces of hair fall from the sides of my face. My brother continued to text me, asking for me to not bring up video games into any conversation. I chuckled to myself and continued to get myself ready. The sounds of footsteps crept towards my door. Roxie stood in the doorway of my room wearing a pair of tan colored khaki pants with a white blouse, a jean jacket was placed over the top. She took a hairband from my vanity, quickly tying her hair up into a professional styled bun. "You ready?" my best friend asked as she knelt down to pat Oscar's head.

I gave her a slight nod before grabbing my purse. The two of us walked down the stairs and ate a quick snack. Oscar sat in front of the fridge, awaiting his dinner to be served. I walked over to the top of the fridge and grabbed the container filled with the good boy's food. My pug hopped up from the ground, his legs resting on my leg. I poured in a cup of food into Oscar's bowl. He jumped off of me and scurried over to his food bowl, creating a 'pitter, patter' sound. Roxie grabbed her keys from the front door, motioning me out. The two of us said our goodbyes to Oscar then made our way towards the car. I made sure to lock the front and back door before sitting in the passenger seat of my best friends blue Volks Wagon.

Roxie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as Madonna was playing in the background. She did a little dance in her seat before turning down a corner towards my brothers house. The sun set just above a few tall buildings out in the distance. Some kids kicked a soccer ball in front of the house. They had kicked a ball into their makeshift goals ; that had been DIY'ed by two green lawn chairs. Roxie turned up the volume of the radio, bobbing her head to the music. Her hands continued to tap on the top of the steering wheel, now acting as if the wheel was her drum set. "Eyes on the road, please," I said, giggling.

She turned to me and scoffed, then preceded to put her hands in the right position once two vehicles sped past her. Roxie cursed at them before honking at the sports cars that were violating the speed limit. We turned down another corner and finally made it to my brothers house. People were scattered about the road, holding red solo cups in hand. Some party goers sat on the front porch of my brothers house, talking with each other.

A group of boys played corn hole on the grassy front lawn. The corn hole gamers cheered once they finally had gotten a red bean bag into the top hole. Roxie drove down a bit and parked at the side of the road, making sure no other cars would hit her. She stepped out of the car and left her pocketbook inside. My red headed friend slipped her phone in the back pocket of her pants.

I stepped out of the car and led her to the front of the house, trying to find my brother. Given my famous reputation, people looked at me with welcoming smiles. Nikko looked up from his plastic cup and smiled once he noticed that my best friend and I had finally arrived. "Y/N/N!" Nikko cheered. He walked over to me with open arms. My brother threw an arm around my shoulders then decided to scrunch up his fist to give me a knuckle sandwich. I glared at him and pushed his sweaty hand away.

"So? Where's your friend?" Roxie asked, looking behind Nikko.

"Right there," Nikko said, pointing behind the two of us.

I looked up at my older brother in confusion, then soon saw a car pulling up to Nikko's house. Andrew Garfield stepped out of his black Mercedes, wearing a tan colored jacket. His hair had been moved to the side, his hair swooping at the top. The boy reached up and pulled a piece of hair away from his face as it fell out of place from all of the hair gel.

Roxie punched me in the shoulder, noticing me staring at my brothers best friend. "Living a Victoria Justice song are we?" Roxie teased, smirking. "I am not falling for my brothers best friend, plus the title of her song is 'Bestfriends brother' not 'My brothers best friend'," I corrected, using air quotes around the song titles.

Andrew looked at my brother and smiled. People said their hellos to the eye candy that joined the block party. Nikko handed me his cup and walked over to his best friend. Andrew smiled and gave my brother the classic 'Bro hug' (GIF Above). Roxie and I stood awkwardly, waiting for them to finish their bro moment. She looked around and finally found the table that held different types of alcohol. "Be right back," Roxie mumbled. "No, No Roxie," I said, watching her walk away. I cursed to myself as she inched towards the table.

"Glad you came man," Nikko said, letting go of his best bud. Andrew smiled and shoved his hands into the pockets of the tan colored jacket he wore. "I'm glad I could. Luckily, I was able to convince my agent to let me take a break," Andrew said, his accent peeking through his words. My heart skipped a beat from the boys accent. 'No, I'm not falling for my brothers best friend,' I thought, mentally kicking myself. "Oh! Andy, this is my little sister Y/N," Nikko said, "I'm sure you know her."

Andrew looked at me, his smirk became bigger once he made eye contact with me. I felt my nerves start to sizzle away as Andrew and I made direct eye contact with me. The Sparks - I guess you could say - that were currently happening could be seen from a mile away. Roxie came back with three solo cups in her hands. "Hey! They have a great selection of beer!" Roxie yelled, but no music was playing.

I jumped at the sound of how loud her voice was. "How did you get drunk so fast?" I giggled, taking the glasses out of her hands. "This is my best friend, Roxie," I introduced, looking at Andrew. He chuckled to himself as he watched me struggle to keep my friend stable.

"Where can I put my jacket?" Andrew asked.

"I can show you," I said.

Andrew nodded his head, he looked at me as I took a large swig of one of Roxie's drinks. I threw the cup away then motioned my brothers friend to follow me. Nikko glanced at me, indicating to not talk shit about him behind his back. I winked at my brother and motioned for Andrew to follow me. "So how long have you known Roxie?" the boy asked, following me down the hallway. "Five years, I met her in college," I responded, smirking at the memory. "She was my roommate's sister in school. Roxie had shown up drunk one night, she was hilarious," I added, chuckling to myself.

I opened the door to the front closet, grabbing a red plastic hanger from the closet. Andrew shrugged his jacket off and handed it to me. I slipped the sleeves onto the hanger then set it on the bar pressed up against the white wall. "Thanks," Andrew said. I smiled in response then shut the closet door. He glanced down at my grey shirt, noticing the videogame symbol. "Hey, cool shirt," he commented, politely. I looked down at the t-shirt.

"Oh! Thanks," I replied, chuckling nervously.

"I haven't played Y/F/V in awhile," Andrew said as we walked back to the front of the house. I looked up at him, surprised that he knew what Y/F/V was. He opened the door for me and waved his hand. I chuckled, shaking my head. "My brother has the game here, we could play a couple rounds if you'd like?" I offered, stopping at the front door. Andrew looked back at Nikko who talked with Roxie and a couple of other people. My brother's bestfriend smirked then glanced to me, nodding in agreement.

I closed the front door to the house and led Andrew into the living room. His eyes trailed over to the variety of videogames that were organized inside a bin. The male celebrity walked over and knelt down in front of it, flipping through what games Nikko owned. Loud rap music came through the walls outside the house. Luckily, the neighborhood wasn't jammed with houses otherwise we'd get a noise complaint. Party goers cheered as Nikko turned up the music from the several speakers that surrounded the yard and back of his house.

Andrew looked outside the window beside the TV, finding Nikko dancing to the music that Roxie was playing on her phone. My brothers best friend glanced down at the bin filled of games once more before finding Y/F/V. I turned on the kitchen lights to grab two bottles of water. Andrew grabbed two controllers from the table underneath the TV. He sat down on the leather couch after he turned the television on. I walked over to the living room, plopping down beside Andrew.

I set the two water bottles on the green plastic coasters then grabbed one of the Xbox controllers from Andrew. I chose my profile then clicked guest for Andrew's side of the game. The soundtrack of the videogame played in the background, creating an eerie mood to the game. I took off my leather jacket then laid it on top of the leather couch. "Ready?" I asked him, glancing back at him but Andrew had already been looking at me.

To cover up the rosy pink rising to my cheeks, I took a sip of my water then pressed the green button on the white controller. I set the bottle down onto the table and got into a ready stance, preparing myself for anything. Andrew gripped the sides of his controller, mocking the stance I was doing. I stole a quick glance at him then changed my gaze to the TV.

****

After playing a few rounds, I finally realized how good Andrew was at playing videogames. Never in a million years did I think that I would be playing my favorite game with the guy I've had a crush on since I became an actor. I thought back to when I had told Roxie that one day I was going to meet Andrew Garfield, and here I am five years later sitting on the same couch with him, playing the same game, within inches from him. "Dude, what the hell?" I exclaimed, "Why'd you shoot me?" My side of the screen turned red, signaling that Andrew had shot me.

"Sorry sweetheart, I'm just playing the rules," Andrew said, resting his hands behind his head, perfectly showing his toned arms. It took everything within me to look away and bring my attention back to the TV screen. Andrew's eyes landed on me, scanning over every inch of my facial expression and body. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and noticed the corners of his mouth lifting. 'Was the Andrew Garfield flirting with me?' I thought, gulping slightly.

"Another round," I said, "I've got to beat you." I clicked on my profile again, doing the exact same thing I had done before. Andrew bit his lip slightly, shaking his head at my determination to beat his ass. I clicked on my best gun then proceeded to win two more rounds. Red screen after red screen erupted from Andrew's side of the TV. He lowered his head in defeat, trying to withhold his laughter. I set the controller down on the table and stood up, doing a little victory dance. Andrew looked up at me and shook his head as he broke into smile.

"What?" I inquired, pushing pieces of hair that had fallen into my face. Andrew leaned forward and took a sip of his water then set it down onto the table. There was a long - but short - pause between the two of us while I waited for a response from the boy that I adored. I sat down beside Andrew, the clock ticking by. The sound of the front door opening interrupted our little moment, if you could even call it one. Roxie burst through the door, carrying another red solo cup. Part of my sighed in relief that my friend had interrupted something, but the other half of me wanted the sparks to continued between Andrew and I.

"Roxie, hey," I said, looking up at the tipsy red head.

"Guessssss.......what I-I just d-iid?" she slurred, her drink swaying in her palm. Andrew and I covered up our chuckles with a cough. Roxie's eyes trailed to how close Andrew and I had gotten, she wiggled her brows then made her way to the bathroom across the floor. "I'll be puking my organs out! You two enjoy yourselves!" Roxie exclaimed, followed by sounds of hurling. Andrew and I glanced at one another as we finally burst out into laughter.

The door to the bathroom slammed shut and the two of us could hear my best friend trying to sing her heart out, but was failing miserably. Sounds of music continued outside of Nikko's house that he adored. Andrew and I stared at each other, our faces closer than ever. I could feel his breath on my face which created shivers to run down my spine. He smirked, his eyes trailing down to my lips then up to my eyes.

"I don't know if my actions said it well enough, but I really really like you," he finally said, earning a smile from me.

Andrew leaned in, kissing my softly. I felt his hand reach up to rest on my thigh while the other one sat on my waist. Golden sparks ignited around eye candy and I, my stomach flipped at the feeling of fireworks between the two of us. We quickly let go of each other once we heard my brothers voice edge towards the front door. I grabbed a controlled and shoved it into Andrew's hands, acting as if we had been playing the whole time, which I guess was true. "And then you press this button to start," I instructed. Fortunately, Andrew was going on with my lie.

"Got it, thanks Y/N/N," Andrew said, looking up at me. Good thing Andrew's back was facing my brother or Nikko would've seen the wink Andrew had just sent me. My heart skipped a beat, I looked at Nikko. "Hey Nik," I said, "I was just showing Andrew how to play Y/F/V." My brother slowly nodded and walked up the stairs towards his bedroom. Andrew and I looked back at one another, bursting into another round laughing. I guess I was falling for my brothers best friend.

Taglist: @simpforthemcu @leossmoonn @radnickelmongerauthor

@transias @kasidy709 @sh-tposter2021 @midnightstar-90

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

~

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

~

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

~

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter Fifteen: 1am Joyride

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

TW: Swearing, mentions of violence, implied past abuse, parents not loving their children, abandonment, foster care, jail, death 

AN: THIS CHAP IS A BACK STORY SO IF YOU ARE UNCOMFY I WILL POST A SMALL LINE FROM THEN END OF THISON THE NEXT ONE AS WELL!!! Sorry as well for not updating lots. Yeah girl has been dissociating so much and losing days. I blinked and now its friday at almost 3am. My  even closes as well on the 21st so if you want to participate please check out this Prompt list!!

Word Count: 1.2K

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Y/N POV 

I heard the rev of Tendou’s motorbike outside my window. I grabbed my jacket and Climbed out my open window.  I took the lightest steps I could around and passed Mei’s window. I grabbed the tree and started to climb down. I walked up to Tendou. 

“You look hot when you are angry babe.” 

“Gross, let’s just get out of here.” I grabbed the helmet from his hands as I climbed on the back. 

We rode down the rural neighbourhoods of the city. I never felt more relaxed than I did in that moment, my arms wrapped around him, the wind blowing on my body  as we rode off. I wanted this moment to last. We soon stopped as Tendou reached for his helmet. 

“This is my thinking spot. It’s usually quiet this time of night.” I took my helmet off and stepped off the bike. 

“I didn’t expect you to be of all people to need a thinking spot. Though you just Monster listed them.” 

“Unfortunately there's things the Monsters can’t always help with.” The atmosphere around him seemed to change to somewhat of a depressing vibe. 

“I really liked being on the bike. I didn’t even notice we ended up going up a hill to this lookout point.” 

“I knew you’d be distracted once you got to touch me.” He said with a wink as he pulled me into his arms. Our lips almost touched as he whispered. “Everytime I see you, you get more beautiful.” 

“Gross.” I whispered back as we both went in for a kiss..

Tendou’s phone startled us as he pulled away.

“What is it?” He asked as he answered the phone. A few minutes of silence passed. 

“No, I am at the lookout point. Can’t he just lie like he always does?” A deep sigh came from him as he heard the response. 

“Just give him my special stash and tell him to give it to her only if she won't come back. Shes a fucking bitch anyways. No one is at a loss by this. What’s a few couple hundred to get a forever problem solved?” Tendou laughed at whoever was on the other side of the phone and hung up.

“Sorry Y/n. Monster shit never stops when Teru”s one time hook ups won’t stop coming back.” 

“I don’t understand why you covered his ass. He’s going to act like a pig. He should deal with it on his own.” I slapped a hand over my mouth “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

“I know you aren’t the only one who sees it that way but Teru and Mad have been here for me always. We used to be little brats back in our elementary days too. Teru was actually a Quiet little devil at first. I do admit we definitely have opposite opinions on girls' purpose. He did watch his mom go through boys every other day some new guy railing her in the kitchen when he got home from school. His mom told him if the sex isn’t an 10 then they are not worth it” 

“How would he even know what a 10 is?’’ 

“I think he just does it to feel some kind of connection to a girl. In hope’s to find ‘The one’, he just wants to be loved and accepted by someone. He knows he's got us but he’s never felt loved by his mom, doesn’t even know who his dad is.” 

“I had no idea, I feel terrible now” I said back to him. He pulled me closer to him again as he rested on the rail. 

“He’s honestly such a good guy. All four of them are. Mad gets in a lot of fights because that's all he knew his entire childhood from his 3 older brothers used to fight him. His dad was about the same in that sense too. The reason he always punches instead of thinks before he acts is that is what he's been taught. He moved out of his house at 16 after we got some income and met the other two. Started to raise some hell in our school you know?” 

“It makes sense why he always tries to fight everyone then.”I said back.

“Hanamaki though is a rich kid whose parents would rather pretend he doesn’t exist. He lived with his grandma on the other side of Tokyo till she passed away in the last year of middle school. Now they buy him whatever he wants while they live who knows where in the world. Him and Matsukawa have been friends since elementary though, Matsun even followed him to Highschool cause he got expelled the last day of school for setting a classroom on fire smoking too close to some curtains. Matsukawa though also didn’t have a good upbringing. His mom left him at 2 years old outside a random house with a note saying she never wanted him. It took 4 years for him to find his father, by then the kid already had some damage because of the system. His dad worked too much to see it for himself though. That just made his choice to move in with Maki much easier for him. That's how we all kinda met though, our broken homes.” Tendou finished, as he turned away and looked out at the view. 

“What’s your story Satori?” I asked him. 

“My father’s in jail, my mother is dead.” 

“Holy shit, I am so sorry Satori.” 

“I spent most of my childhood jumping from foster home to foster home. I was a demon spawn though. Always making sure they would move me around. Getting my nickname Guess Monster cause no one knew what I would do next. I live with my grandma now.” He said.

“I am sorry I always called you the second biggest asshole on earth. I had no idea.” He just laughed knowing I meant Oikawa as number one. 

 “And how about you y/n? What’s your story?”

“Um, my mom left us for a guy in Paris when I was young. I was basically raising Mei as my child, with my father being a doctor he's usually never home. Well till I started dipping on her for Oikawa. Now she hates my guts and my father spoils her so much cause he feels bad about missing out so much.” 

“Wait Oikawa? I thought you always hated him” He said. I began to explain to him the same story I had told Mei earlier the night. “I always knew he was a piece of shit.” 

“If only Mei did. That’s why we fought too.” Tendou pulled me in closer again. He smiled at me as he gave his signature smile. 

“It’s nice to have someone to trust outside of my circle again.” He pulled me into a passionate kiss….

The night continued for a bit longer as he brought me back home once again. I got off his bike and looked down at him as he took his helmet off and stood up. 

“Satori.” 

“Yes Y/n?”

“You were right, I did fall for you.” With that I placed a passionate kiss on his lips again. I pulled away and turned around to begin to climb back into my house...

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[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Young Justice

A/N: Some cursing and poorly written fight scene. I will be making this a multichap fic, reposting it to its own work. Also name is a WIP.

@maribat-2k20

Whoosh.

Thump.

Clank-Clunk.

Repeat.

Happy Harbor doesn't make her very happy. But it doesn't make her that sad either. No different than New York City. But at least her Mama was there. The mother-daughter duo had made amends and Audrey invited Chloe to live with her in the city. It was nice, until Chloe got antsy. She itched to get out there and fight. But New York wasn't her turf and there were no bad guys to battle. Chloe also wasn't too keen on going to school in New York.

She was completely fine with video calling her Mari-bug, thank you very much. But even Mari saw that she needed to get back into the game.

"Bee, you can't have your only interaction being with your over-worked butler, your work-acholic mother, and your ex in Tibet." Mari's voice was hoarse from being out of breathe.

"You're just phrasing it weird. You're my best friend more than my ex. And Jean-Paul is not over-worked. He has off on Wednesdays and Sundays." Chloe responded flippantly and continued to file her nails on her sofa, which was placed right in front of the 85 inch flat screen mounted the wall of her room. She had linked her phone to the screen and webcam so she had a good view of her friend.

Mari gave her a unimpressed look while drying her head. She wore a pink sleeveless workout shirt with red flower designs sewn in and matching capris. She was also bald now. A guardian-in-training thing, Chloe was told when she first got the frantic call with the news. Her clothing choice was impressive since she lives in a temple in the mountains. Surrounded by snow.

"Chloe, you're lonely and you miss Sabrina. I can feel it from here." The pink clad girl said, before taking a sip from her matching water bottle.

"I'm not lonely, I have those trainers I practice with and I talk to Felix every now-" Chloe argued. But then was interrupted by her friend.

"You know, I think you should go to Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. And use Pollen and Stompp." She smiled as she cut off Chloe, tilting her head to the side with a content look on her face.

What. Chloe thought, head turning so fast to the screen she should have gotten whiplash.

"You should go. My instincts tell me that your gonna find something there. And as a Guardian-in-training, my instinct is usually right." Apparently Chloe said that thought out loud.

"Mari, I can't just leave. Mama has work in the city-" Chloe tried.

"Stop with the excuses, Chlo. Audrey has a headquarters in Happy Harbor, so she could just move her work there." Damn her preparedness and reasoning. Chloe stayed silent as she glared at her friend, even though it hasn't had an effect on Mari since they were ten-year-olds.

"And lucky for you, I already called Audrey to confirm it and she agrees that it's a good idea." Mari does a little dance, smirking with a wiggle of her shoulders and eyebrows. Fucking dammit, Mari-bug.

"I'll give it a chance." Chloe grumbles, a little peeved.

"Then get packing, honeybee, 'cause your leaving in three days."

Sometimes Chloe can't believe she still listens to her Bug's crazy plans.

~

Running across the roof tops in the middle of town. How inconspicuous. Was Mari trying to get her captured?

Now Chloe just felt stupid. She opened the screen of her top and prepared to arrange for another call with Mari when she felt a shift in the air. Someone was approaching, but she couldn't see anyone there. That wouldn't mean much though, since she had experience with invisible enemies.

Enemies, really? Even in death, you show her no respect. Sabrina should have-

Opponents. Invisible opponents. Chloe steadied her breath and banished the thoughts for another time. Faking ignorance, she tapped randomly on her top's screen.

The invisible entity came closer. And closer. Just a little closer. Almost within reach.

She grabbed a horn from her headset that doubled as a weapon and swung at the mysterious invisible person in one smooth motion. She grinned in satisfaction when she felt it hit something and heard it yelp in surprise. Or pain. Either was good.

Chloe looked over in time to see a green-skinned red-head girl lying on the ground, clearly disoriented by her surprise attack. Chloe's smile fell a bit when she envisioned a different red-head in her place, one much more familiar, thought only for a moment.

A memory of her faults and another thing that she lost.

She was quickly thrown out of her spiral when she saw two boys fall from out of a random place in the sky. Her instinct was to catch them and moved to do so before she saw the insignias on their chests.

"M'gann!" They yelled, probably because of the girl on the ground. Also, ever heard of code names?

Both boys wore a different emblem on their chests. After focusing on them, she recognized them to be the ones worn by the Superman and the Flash. So they must be their sidekick squad. The girl was probably Martian Manhunter's apprentice, since green skin and invisibility.

The boy with the Superman logo glared at her as a red and yellow blur came at her. The Flash's sidekick probably. And damn did whatever he did to her stomach sting.

Good thing she's an expert on stings. Her inner Adrikins was beside themselves laughing while every other part of her wanted to shake her head in exasperation.

Fighting a speedster was like fighting blind. Not something she particularly excelled at. All she could do was dodge as best as she could, which meant getting hit every eighth strike.

Chloe planted her feet and recalled everything Mari had told her during her probation and training period. Mari may not have been properly trained then, but she learned the ropes fast enough to teach everyone else;

"Every team's bound to have some variation of these core members. You need to be able to identify them. The heavy-hitter.

Probably Super-kid. For her, sometimes it was Adrien and others it was Rose using Stompp.

The strategist.

Redhead One or Redhead Two? Definitely not. Speedy over their just ran up to her and kept whooping her, it didn't seem like he had any other objective. And Mari, duh.

The one light on their feet.

Redhead Flash, obviously.

With the power of subjection, you must incapacitate the biggest threat. To you, the people, a team member, or the entire mission.

Looks like Redhead Flash is getting stung today. Serves him right, that hit was gonna bruise.

"Venom." She thinks, and thrusting her stinger-armed hand into where she predicted the boy would be. And she's right he comes to a complete stop, and, to her amusement, the momentum of his running caused him to face plant into the ground with a crack. His wrist probably, since a venom kept you from intentionally moving but allows movement by external forces.

Namely gravity and the concrete of the rooftop.

"Kid!" Exclaimed a young voice, probably from the figure falling from where the Redhead Flash and Super-kid fell from.

Super-kid helped up Redhead One and turned back to glare at Chloe again. She just smirked and armed herself with a top in her left hand and a horn in the other. To be honest, it look like an escrima stick.

A silent challenge hung in the air, each daring the other to move first. Though it actually gave her time to think up a plan. The most practical thing would be to jump off the side of the building, making it look like a retreat and then swing in to take him from behind. Yeah, that should work.

Chloe made a scene of contemplating fighting and running away, narrowing her eyes in thought. She ran to the edge of the roof top and jumped, briefly loosing herself to the nostalgia. Of the wind in her face and the adrenaline in her veins. It's been way too long since the last time she felt felt them.

She threw her top at the ledge of the roof, willing it to change into a grapple and swung her legs routinely. After doing this exact maneuver countless times before, she instinctively moved with just the right amount of force at just the right time. They used to call it the 'Mari Go Round', named after the girl who taught her the tact and the American nickname for a carrousel. Also because the swing takes you in a full circle.

Chloe straightened her legs in preparation to slam into his back, hopefully pushing him of the side of the building or at least give him some kind of injury with her heels. But he turned at the last minute and smacked her out of the air with his forearm. The bruise forming on her leg tells her that he has both super strength and invulnerability, since normal human strength wouldn't have sent so far and normal human arms would have broken if they tried to pull that trick.

The newest guest started throwing stuff at her. So Chloe quickly rose and jumped to the next building. She needed time to think.

Chloe wasn't here to fight the heroes, she here because Mari told she'd find something here. Maybe a lost miraculous, or guardian artifact. Or maybe someone-

"Boo." The young voice happily said, followed by giggles.

"Merde!" She shrieked, throwing one of her own boomerang weapons at the voice. Her eyebrows furrowed when she heard the unsatisfying noise of them imbedding themselves in the concrete.

She heard a fwuop and whoosh noise from the sidekick squad's direction, directly behind her. Not a good move on her part. She turned her head to see a net and inch from her face, leaving no room or time for escape.  She hit the ground with a thud, unable to get up due to the weight of the net. It likely was made for non-human threats. Not that Chloe wasn't human, but she was magically enhanced and that made her a lot stronger than one.

She felt hands pick her up and set her into a kneeling position, unknowingly giving her an  advantage. She quickly broke off the heel of her boot and hid it in her hand. They surrounded her, but were weirdly silent. They made faces at each other, like one would to convey emotion into words.

Redhead One tried to touch her forehead, and Chloe definitely wasn't having that. She summersaulted backwards into Super-kid, successfully knocking him down and allowing her to cut some of the net with the sharp side of her heel. Her legs were free now, and as she multi-tasked cutting the rest of the net, and dodging what ever the new guy was throwing at her and the now flying Redhead One, she ran and jumped as safely as she could.

Who was she trying to kid, that's what she'd tell Mari when this was over. Literally none of the stuff she does is safe.

Chloe landed on a roof top the one they fought on and she was so close to  getting the stupid weighted-net off her. As she finished cutting the last bit of the net and she reached for her top, she was bound again. This time by a... rope? Something like her weapon, just it was without a top or yoyo at the end and was... gold.

Oh, fuck.

[sleepylixie]

Of Walls and Wonderlands

College! Kim Seungmin  X fem! reader, Imperium Universe

1.8k words, Fluff, College! AU, Friends to (future)lovers

A/N: Soft Uni Seungmin was so difficult to write though?? I really hope I caught his aura right >.< ONTO THE FIC!! Do send me feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this ficc >.<

Imperium Universe || Jisung ||Seungmin || Chan || Lee Know ||

If anybody had told you a year ago that you’d be dating a guitar-playing, puppy-eyed law student with a sharp tongue, you’d have laughed in their face and brushed them off. You weren’t the type to date- you weren’t the type for romance at all. 

Growing up as the youngest sibling in a family full of talent and outspoken opinions, you’d built a wall around yourself very early on to protect your own smaller, more personal sentiments. It was possible that very wall that left you a closed-off, almost intimidating air that made people think twice about approaching you. You didn’t mind it, really. It was peaceful, within those walls, an isolated wonderland that nobody could ruin for you. 

That is until a certain Kim Seungmin came along. It was almost easy, falling for him; Seungmin was the kind of boy that anybody could end up falling for. You didn’t expect your feelings for him to be returned, of course. You knew how you were- cold, prickly, almost unpleasant, a complete opposite to his warm, open self. 

Surprisingly enough, that wasn’t the case.

//

You first saw Seungmin at Imperium, the bar closest to your campus. Imperium, however, served a completely different purpose to those who knew of it: It was an entrance to the heart of the underground fight club network in your city. And you just so happened to be one of its’ sweethearts. 

Minor fact about you:

You were a kickboxer. A good one at that. 

You had a knack for it, the way your siblings had a knack for writing or dancing. When one of your gym trainers introduced you to the underground fight scene the summer after high school, you didn’t hesitate for a second before agreeing to join. Now halfway through university, you and your best friend were two of the best fighters the Imperium fight club had.

Changbin, your gym trainer, had told you to scope out competition for the new season, which was why you were at the club despite not having fights that day.  The two of you had hung around a corner of the basement, talking to acquaintances, until Changbin asked you if you wanted to meet some of his friends. 

Your hesitant agreement had him leading you to a rowdy group of 4 guys, who seemed more than happy to meet one of the club’s fighters. They introduced themselves one by one- you even recognized Hyunjin, the cheeky blonde bookie that loved to take your best friend’s bets before her fights. 

Seungmin was true to his words, he really was a simple guy. You spoke throughout the evening, a rarity for you. He was a law major, the same year as you, a bathroom singer and an ardent DAY6 fan. He was unconstrained with his smiles and open with his opinions, razor-sharp with his wit and dry with his humour. It was so easy to talk to him, even for you- the kind of person who wasn’t much for small talk.

The last boy that spoke caught your eye. He was a little taller than the other guys, eyes a sparkling brown even in the harsh lighting of the basement. “Hi, I’m Seungmin,” His voice was soft, melodic, almost. You nodded slightly at the boys, a small smile slipping across your face as you introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know you,” exclaimed Minho, one of the other guys. “Aren’t you the one that won the rookie championship last year?” The rest of the boys regarded you with renewed curiosity, looks that you were used to. A girl in the circuit was still rare, much less a championship winner.

“Yeah.”

You spent the rest of the evening with the boys, mostly because you were intrigued by the boy called Seungmin. He kept up an easy conversation with you, calming despite the clamor and rage ripping across the basement after the fight slots began.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”

He smiled at your comment, a show of pearly teeth and cosy warmth. “It isn’t. I got dragged here because Hyunjin thought I was spending too long with my textbooks.”

“So what is your kinda scene?” You were surprised at yourself, you never took the effort of keeping up a conversation like this- but Seungmin made you curious, you had to find out more.

“I’m a simple guy, really,” He laughed- he was cute, you thought. Really, really cute.

“You get me ice cream good music and good company, I’m yours.”

When the night winded down, he shyly asked to exchange numbers with you after insisting on walking you home.  How could you not agree, especially with the way he looked at you, curious and admiring?

//

Your friendship with Seungmin progressed quickly- You met up a lot, explored cafes and had impromptu midnight grocery runs together. He was fun, almost puppy-like in his enthusiasm, his vibe so alluring that you ended up buying into it too.  There was a lot of banter between both of you, effortlessly silly and extremely witty. Seungmin was the type to hound you with random tidbits of trivia, things you wondered why he even knew of. But it was so... So characteristic of him that you just found it endearing. Even his sharp, acerbic wit. Especially his sharp, acerbic wit.

Seungmin left you with warm cheeks and a wide smile, he felt like the kind of person you didn’t have to keep your walls up around. It felt nice, suddenly, to have somebody who could live in your wonderland with you and not judge you one bit.

The months passed faster with Seungmin,  like a whirlwind of strawberry smoothies and fried chicken. There was an almost magnetic aura around him- maybe it was his charming boy-next-door smile or the way he carried himself, looking almost small, diminutive in stature despite his frame bordering on lanky. Over the months, you’d realized that maybe you enjoyed your time with Seungmin way more than you thought you would,  maybe you had a little bit of a crush on him, maybe you’d wanted to peck his pretty lips more than one time before…

When he asked you to join him on a movie night with his roommates, you couldn’t refuse.  Turned out, Jisung and his girlfriend enjoyed your company so much that you became a constant addition to their movie nights. So you found yourself frequenting Seungmin’s quaint, well-organized apartment every Saturday with assorted junk food, and the quiet excitement of meeting Seungmin again.

He turned up at one of your kickboxing sessions one day, watching in pure awe as Changbin took you through the motions of training for the new season.  After asking if you were okay with him dropping by, he made it a point to turn up as often as possible, his guitar slung across his back. “You’re so good at this,” he’d say every time Changbin allowed you a break. Your heart would flutter a little every time, leaving you slightly flustered and warm in the face.

After you were done, he’d walk you home, sometimes pulling you into the park on the way and playing songs for you on the guitar. 

//

“Holy fucking shit.” Seungmin’s reaction to your slightly battered frame was instantaneous,  grabbing you gently by the shoulders and ushering you into his apartment. “It’s not that bad, I just need a few bandaids.” You protested, hissing softly at the sting that your split lip brought when you spoke. Seungmin scanned your frame quickly,  marking the spots on your body that you seemed to carry heavy or marked with specks of blood.

A heavy silence weighed down on the room, a silence which demanded you break. “Sorry I had to disturb,” your voice came out smaller than you expected. “I got jumped a few blocks away from here, and this was the first safe place I could think of.”

His roommates took in your state from their perch on the kitchen counter, Jisung’s eyes wide in alarm. His girlfriend(and Seungmin’s third roommate) hopped off the counter, hurrying towards you and Seungmin.

“Min, you know where the first aid kit is, right?” She asked, taking your hand as she gently pulled you towards her room. “Get it to the kitchen, I’ll get Y/N a change of clothes.” 

Soon enough, you were sat on Jisung’s previous perch on the kitchen counter, Seungmin giving you a stern once over as he tended to your injuries. Jisung and his girlfriend seemed to have retreated into one of the bedrooms, possibly to give you and Seungmin some space. 

“What happened, darling?” He asked softly, knelt in front you as he dabbed antiseptic onto your knee. “One of the guys I beat last week wanted revenge,” you sighed, swallowing a hiss at the sting. “so he decided to jump me with some buddies.” You tried really hard to ignore the new nickname- a nickname you liked very much when he used it.

Seungmin’s head shot up, eyes flashing in incredulity. “Isn’t that against the rules?!” He asked, temporarily abandoning his ministrations. “Yeah, I’ll make a report tomorrow, he’ll probably get booted for this.” you shrugged. 

“He probably wasn’t expecting me to be able to talk after? I don’t know.” 

You’d never seen that dark look flash across your sweet boyfriend’s eyes before. “That sick bastard.” He never swore, your warm Seungmin. 

“It’s okay, Min,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I know it’s okay,” Seungmin said, standing up to focus on the injuries on your face and collar. “You enjoy kickboxing way too much to be fazed by something like this, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just...” 

He sighed, leaning closer to you as he checked on your split lip. “It scares me a little every time you end up hurt.”You could see the sprinkle of a blush heating up his cheekbones as he spoke the words, still focused on your lip. You couldn’t help it, a smile spread across your face, broad and unrestrained. Seungmin stopped and stepped back, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re so beautiful…” the words left his mouth before he could stop them, and a rush of heat gave you a blush that mirrored Seungmin’s own.

“I- um-”

“That’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen you flustered,” he observed, a lopsided smile on his face. You returned his grin as much as you could without jostling your lip too much. Something had switched in the energy between you at his compliment, there was warm electricity where there was usually cool and easy banter.

It was new, unfamiliar, but strangely enough, you didn’t hate it.

“You should stay here for the night,” Seungmin offered, still in the soft voice he’d used before. “I’d end up worrying about you all night if you went home like this.”

“Okay.”

And that was how Jisung found the two of you next morning cuddled on the couch, Seungmin holding you with your head nuzzled into his neck, lost to the world. Even in sleep, Seungmin was careful of your newly acquired injuries, hands light around your waist and softly tangled in your hair.

It was warm in your wonderland, and it was all because of Seungmin.

[flying-nightwing]

Scorpion (1/2)

I am still working on Op. Solarstorm, but I had this playing in my mind for far too long to keep ignoring. Also, not me back at it again with my favourite tropes and villain!reader? lmao. Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist in bio/pinned

Pairing:

Dick Grayson x f!reader (villain)

Word count: 5217

Warnings: Language, violence, steamy stuff hehe ;) but no nsfw, kind of angst? also reader being so fucking dramatic Summary: You are the resident bad guy of Blüdhaven, former supervillain, nemesis of Nightwing and master toxinologist in your own right. One night, however, you receive an unexpected visit that convince you to return to your former alias, Scorpion. (Based off a prompt I can’t find in my likes anymore but I’ll link it as soon as I find it)

The storm raged outside.

The rain pelted down your windows, blurring the view of Blüdhaven’s skyline almost entirely. Only the occasional thunder bolts lit up the horizon, just enough to see for a fraction of second the dark clouds glaring down the city. The wind howled as it navigated around the skyscrapers, washing away the droplets of rain as soon as they crashed down.

You stood in front of the curtain wall of your condo, sipping a glass of wine and watching it all unwind like a movie. You found the storm relaxing, as if the loud growl of it drained all the negative energy stored within you and released it as a powerful blast out into the world. You smiled at the thought; if only you could possess that much power to smithe your enemies, your job would be about a hundred times easier. 

You were about to leave your window for a refill when you heard the faintest thud at your door. You frowned, waiting a moment, before shrugging and resuming your course for the kitchen. However, before you could get there, another sound reached your ears, this time, unmistakably two quiet knocks. You placed your glass on a hallway table beside a flower vase and went to the door, peeking through the glass eye. When you saw nothing, you backed up and reached for the switchblade tucked under the waistband of your pants, then placed a careful hand on the knob. You twisted and pulled the door open, and your muscles tensed at the sight in front of you.

Your fight or flight instinct kicked in for a second as your eyes registered the black and blue before anything else, but you held back that reaction when you noticed something was wrong. While there was no doubt the man on the other side was Nightwing, the vigilante that always managed to spoil your plans or stop your schemes, he looked nothing like the cocky vigilante who would have already delivered a clever one liner as soon as he got a glimpse of your face. 

No, that man was hunched on the wall, his footing staggering and his suit ripped on the arms and the torso. He was drenched and visibly weak, and his mask was broken over his left eye. Even if you could see only half of it, you noticed the blown pupil that expanded over most of his iris. Like his reaction time had been put in slow motion, he finally lifted his head, his gaze swaying from left to right. He had been clearly drugged.

“I’m sorry” His voice was shaky and breathless. “I’m sorry… I had nowhere else to go”

You noticed only then he was clutching his stomach, even if he wasn’t bleeding specifically there. You snapped out of your stupor, putting your arm around his torso and holding him up as he crashed forward. You managed to pull him in your condo with you and shut the door behind you with your foot. He was heavy, especially since he probably didn’t have the control of his muscles at all to help you with the weight, but you managed to get him to your couch. You laid him down, being careful not to let his head bounce on the way down. You put the back of your hand on his forehead, and he was burning. Even through the rain on his skin, you could see the coat of sweat on his face and down his neck. Switchblade in hand, you cut through what remained of his suit and slipped it off him before he caught his death from wearing cold, soaking wet clothes on top of whatever else was happening. He started writhing on the couch, moaning in pain and still clutching his stomach. You saw that it was swollen and tender under all the shallow fresh cuts littering his body, and immediately you understood that he hadn’t been drugged, he had been poisoned.

You moved up his body again and kneeled beside his head, gently removing his domino mask. He was so out of it he didn’t even notice your cold fingers on his face, nor your saddened sigh. It had been a while since you had seen him without his mask, and yet, he was still as shockingly beautiful as he was years ago. You didn’t waste time appreciating his beauty however, as you were most probably on the clock. You stood up and left him there for a second as you grabbed your emergency kit labelled poison/venom and brought it back to him, kneeling once again. You grabbed the flashlight first, leaning above his face and pulling the eyelids of his right eye open. You flashed the light in it, but the pupil remained blown, completely ignoring the sudden brightness. His left eye was the same. 

Quickly, you put the flashlight away and grabbed a plastic syringe, capping it with a needle. You made sure the air was out before finding the vein in his arm and plunging the needle in it. You filled it with blood and put it aside while you fished the toxicity test, then put a small amount of blood in the vial and twirled it to mix it with the powder. You waited a minute and checked the scale, which told you if left untreated, whatever was flowing through his veins would be very lethal. You swore under your breath as you pushed to your feet again, heading for your bedroom and your walk in wardrobe. At the back of it, you punched a code in a pad and the wall pulled slightly toward you. With a tug, you pulled it all the way out and grabbed the first o negative blood bag as well as tubes and a stand to hook it on. You returned to him and prepared his transfusion in a record time, setting the bag and the tubes then putting once again a needle in his arm. At this point, he had stopped moving, but his chest still rose and fell in jagged motions. 

You remained there a couple of seconds more to be sure he was really passed out, then you grabbed the syringe filled with blood and moved everything else out of the way. You put the syringe on the counter while you dragged your working station from another room--only now glad that you made the choice to have it on wheels--and put it so you could have a good view of Dick even when working. You took the time to put gloves, then brought the syringe with you and sat behind your microscope.

You put a drop of blood on the slide and got to work.

---

You waited in the dark warehouse, your ears strained for any other sound than the water leaking from the roof. Your double edged spear was prominent on your back, glistening under the faint light coming from the bright spot outside. You hadn’t taken it out in a while, but its blades were still sharp and deadly. You hoped the sheer sight of it would be enough to remind your rendez-vous who was in charge here, but you wouldn’t mind using your weapon once again. 

You stared deeper into the building as quiet footsteps grew closer, and seconds later, your contact emerged from the darkness. You let them come to you as you remained attentive to your surroundings. Just because they were an old colleague of yours, it didn’t mean you trusted them. If anything, it made them even more dangerous in your eyes. 

“Scorpion” They greeted with a smirk, using your old nickname. You couldn’t help but let a chuckle at the memory of the good old days, when you definitely wouldn’t have gone to such lengths for Nightwing out of all people. “What owes me the pleasure of getting your call tonight?”

“I need some intel” You went straight to the point, fishing a small vial from your black trenchcoat, holding it up to eye level. “This is a very rare sample of Diamondback rattlesnake venom I extracted from the blood of an unfortunate victim. Any idea how it got into Blüdhaven without me knowing?”

They raised an eyebrow after giving the vial a quick glance. “Are you accusing me of smuggling it into the city?”

“Not yet” You carefully replied. “But I believe you might know who did”

“Listen” They sighed as you put back the sample in your coat. “You’ve been out of the game for a while now. Things have changed down here, and it’s not my place to question the chain of power”

“Have they?” You challenged, sweeping the room once again and noticing they hadn’t brought back up. Decidedly, someone somewhere got ahead of themselves and forgot their place. 

“Uh?”

“Have things really changed?” You slowly raised an eyebrow. You felt dread creep in their eyes. “I want a name”

“None can do” They backed up slowly, palms up. “You hold no power here anymore, so you should just go back to your tower and keep your nose in your mob business before we both get killed”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” You mumbled, looking them up and down. Then, you reached behind your back to get your spear. You striked rapidly as they jumped back, the blade slicing the skin of their biceps. You spun it in your hand and put it back on your back.

“What the f--” They swore, glaring at you. “You’re truly out of it, Scorpion. Can’t even hit your fucking target now. That’s why nobody’s scared of you anymore”

“If you think I missed, then you’ve learned nothing” You simply smiled as you backed away. “You’ll remember who’s in charge soon enough. Have a good life, what’s left of it anyway”

You turned around and walked away, thinking about how the powerful venom coating the blades of your staff was strong enough to cause seizures in about fifteen minutes, and death in fifteen more.

---

You returned to your condo as the sun began to be visible over the horizon, the soft light basking the whole living room in a yellow hue. You quietly went back to your room, changing from your drenched trench coat and black suit to a cream colored blouse and burgundy slacks. You carefully put back your spear in its locked case, keeping its blades far away from any exposed skin.

You returned to the living room, pausing beside Dick who was still passed out. His breathing was slower, more even now, so the antidote you had prepared before leaving had worked. The fever seemed to have died down, and you guessed his stomach wasn't swollen anymore. You didn’t want to pull off the two heavy blankets over him to check and let his bare skin come into contact with the cold of the room. You checked the solute solution that replaced the blood bag on the stand, knowing you wouldn’t need a refill once it was empty. Knowing the man, he’d wake up anytime soon. 

You cleaned up the room and brought back your working station to your office, then sat at your computer to catch up on some work your now ex-accountant messed up. After a couple of hours, you took a nap that turned into something closer to a night full of sleep, and only woke up in the late afternoon. You were surprised Dick was still out when you checked on him, it wasn’t his type to fall into the average of anything, especially not recovery time. 

You had to wait well after sundown for him to stir awake with a groan, then slightly panic as he took in his surroundings. He tried to sit up, but fell back onto his elbows.

“Take it easy” You said, bringing his attention to you for a second before he averted his gaze. “You had quite the dose of venom in your blood. You’re lucky you even made it to my door”

Even with his gaze casted down, you could see he was confused by the soft tone you spoke to him with. It was a far cry from the threats and insults you usually shared when he decided to come and interfere with your business. Yet, you didn’t like the idea of someone else out there trying to kill him, despite the fact that you had done so many times in the past. You and Nightwing had been long standing rivals, fighting for the same turf when you were Scorpion and now that you had your own mob to manage. He knew where you stood, and you him, creating a dynamic where unspoken rules were religiously being respected by both parties. And well, you hated when rules were broken, especially by people with no respect for them, especially when they targeted your nemesis.

You stood up and walked to him, sitting on the coffee table beside him. You brushed your hand down his cheek to his chin, gently pushing up so he could meet your eyes. They were still a bit glassy and unfocused from the venom, but the pupils had regained their normal size. The white around his dark blue irises was bloodshot, and the dark bags under his lids were prominent. In the years you had known him, you had never seen him so battered, so down, so not… him. Even if you were by all purposes and intents enemies, it still sparked a rage within you. You could feel the anger rise in your throat at the defeated face staring back at you, but you willed it back inside. For now.

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it still conjured a divine wrath with every word. “Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter” He mumbled, but he didn’t have the strength to conceal his lie. He tried to get up, but his muscles failed him. 

“But it does” You shook your head, not letting him look away. “Someone injected you with venom and tortured you. It cannot go unanswered, not under my watch”

Something switched in his eyes, before it was buried under resolve in front of your insisting. “Sionis”

Suddenly you saw red. You knew he had been in town for a few weeks already, but you mostly ignored him, thinking he’d go away on his own after concluding whatever deal he was there for. You had no doubt he had been the one to take over Blüdhaven’s underworld right under your nose and turn everyone against you. Unbeknownst to them, you were still the most dangerous person in this city and it was well past time to remind them of it. 

“Stay here, you need to rest” You ordered, gently pushing him back on the couch. “When you’ll feel strong enough to stand up, there’s food in the fridge”

“Wait, where are you going?” Confusion etched on his features.

“I’m going to have a little chat with Sionis”

“(Y/N), no” His voice was strained as he pushed himself off the couch and tried to stand up again. The use of your name made you halt your step to face him as he struggled to stay on his feet. “You don’t… You can’t…”

You retook the steps towards him, stopping right in front of him. “You came to me last night for help, so let me help”

“I know but…” He trailed off, sighing. “I can’t let you fight my battles, it’s not right”

“I’m not, I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago. I have let the infection fester in the wound for far too long, and now it’s time to clean it” You placed a hand on his cheek, and he didn’t fight it. “It’s our city, and if Sionis thinks he can take it, he’s gravely mistaken” 

“It doesn’t mean I want it to be taken back your way” His eyes flashed pain as he shook his head slightly. Yet, he still didn’t back off, but you retracted your hand like it touched fire. “Scorpion left a trail of bodies wherever she went. I may still not approve of your current career, but nothing will let me morally support your descent to that rabbit hole again”

Your features hardened at his words. “Those are bold claims for a man who cannot take two steps without crumbling” You spoke calmly, but the harsh undertone in your voice was a dead giveaway of your bitterness. “I don’t want to see you hurt, I think we’ve established that a long time ago. But I feel like it’s a good time to remind you that what was given can be taken away”

“You’re threatening me now?”

You gave him a cold smile as you backed away. “Oh honey, you’ll know when I’m threatening you”

“So we’re back to this uh?” His sneer transcended his weakened physical state.

“You should rest” You deflected, not ready to answer that just yet, not to him, anyway. You hated to see disappointment on such handsome features, even if it was pretty much the only thing you ever saw anymore. “This isn’t a hangover you can shake off with a tylenol and a smoothie. You need to let the antidote work” 

He only held your stare, the disappointment you dreaded steadily growing in his blue eyes. His lack of words were as effective as his worst scolding. Without breaking eye contact, you fished your phone from your pocket and dialed the first contact in your list.

“Borovski, arrange a last minute meeting with Mr. Sionis” You spoke in a flat tone. “Yes, let him know that Scorpion requires an audience”

------

You found the place of the meeting peculiar. 

The underground casino was crassy, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging low in the air. No players were sitting at the tables, no bartenders were on duty, only a handful of armed guards giving you a not so warm welcome into the establishment and one man in a purple sequin suit.

“Ah, Scorpion!” Sionis called as he stood up. Then, he paused as he took you in. “I must say, you are not what I expected”

You raised an eyebrow at the grimace he made, but he kept looking you up and down as if there was something he didn’t quite catch. Finally, his eyes stopped on your spear on your back, and his face lit up with understanding. He laughed, but it seemed way too forced.

“Oh, I get it now!” He wiped nonexistent tears from his eyes as he pointed back and forth between you and the spear. “It’s because the spear’s like a scorpion tail. Very clever!”

“I’m glad to see there are no explanations required then” You scoffed sarcastically as you took one step forward. Immediately, his guards closed in on you.

“Aht aht,” He held a finger up, waving it obnoxiously. “I might find it clever, but there is no scenario possible in which you come close to me with that thing. Hand it over”

“Afraid of a little blade, Sionis?” You taunted, nevertheless taking your spear off your back and handing it to one of his goons. 

“Nice try, but we both know it’s not just the blade” He made yet another grimace as you got cleared to come closer. “Men, be careful not to touch the shiny part of it, kay? I’d hate to stain the floors with your dead bodies”

You smirked as you sat down in the chair he gestured to, resting your arms on the empty poker table. He sat down sideways in front of you and crossed his legs, bouncing his feet to an imaginary beat. “So... Miss Scorpion,” He began, a hint of humour in his voice like the situation was amusing. “I gotta say, I admire your previous work. But how long has it been since then? Five, six years? Where have you been?”

“Seven” You corrected. “I inherited a criminal empire from my father, changed vocations. Rather than sting people, I synthesize antidotes to the most potent venoms and sell them for quite a fortune per dose”

“Uh, I heard you were in the drug market” He frowned. “Perhaps my intel was… Mistaken”

“That too” The corner of your lips went up. “Well dosed, venom makes for a fantastic psychedelic. But worry not about your circle, those are no street drugs. Not a lot of people can afford it, in fact”

He nodded slowly. “So you want what exactly, to sell to me?” 

“No” You shook your head, your smile turning just a bit more sinister as you grabbed the rattlesnake venom vial and rolled it to him. Slowly, he picked up and observed it, recognition flashing in his features. You leaned forward, setting your stare on him. “I’m here for other concerns. Like you bringing venom in my city without my authorization”

He sat back in his chair, amused and unimpressed. He twirled the vial in his gloved hands, lazily studying it. “It’s not your city anymore” He shrugged. “It was right there for the taking, and honestly it is so much more fun than Gotham, without a gloomy bat lurking in the dark”

You didn’t react immediately. You simply observed him, then subtly calculated the distance of each goon from him. In theory, their reaction times would be slow enough for you to get to Sionis. But you held back, knowing he’d expect it now. 

“That’s what your smuggler said, too” You hummed, watching closely as his eyes met yours. He mustn’t be happy about that, because his expression became a notch darker. “Before I killed them, that is. But I guess I did you a favor in doing so. They would have sold you out to the next opportunist. Nobody likes a traitor, right?”

He regained his composure, but the bitterness in his eyes didn’t leave. “When I heard you wanted to meet, I thought it’d be to apologize to me for your misstep” He took a deep breath. “I was ready to let you go with some compensation for my loss in the form of doing my dirty work, I really was. But now I see you still want to be insolent--”

“Alright, I’ll say this once and only once” You interrupted him, and he instantly grew offended. “Get out of my city. Leave and never come back, or Nightwing won’t be the one you’ll be facing”

“So, this is what got your panties in a twist” He laughed, then seriousness fell back down on his features in a snap. “Kill her”

Before they could move, you pushed out of your chair and grabbed your switchblade in your belt. Your footwork was swift as you spun around Sionis, avoiding the range of the gun he was pulling out, and stopped behind him. A second later, his head was slammed down on the table and your blade was pressed to his throat. You looked up at the goons who had halted their movements, suspense of what you’d do next hanging in the air. 

“Drop your weapons” You ordered, nodding at the gun aimed at you. “C’mon, off with it. Kick them away too”

“Drop your weapons” Sionis repeated through his teeth, not daring to move a muscle. God knew what was on your blade, and if you drew blood, it’ll most likely be over for him. “Fuck!”

Slowly, they lowered their weapon to the ground and kicked them toward you. “Good” You huffed out before leaning closer to Sionis. “Now maybe you won’t underestimate me anymore. This is only a taste of what will come to you if you keep provoking me. I’ll destroy you like a poison running its course through a healthy vein, and you’ll regret setting eyes on my city. Understood?”

“You fucking bitch” He panted, a twisted smile on his lips. “You’re fucking dumb if you think you can get out of here alive. You’re out of your league, little girl”

“Really? I was under the impression that your life mattered more than mine” You said as you pressed your blade further, exposing the metal to his blood long enough to know the venom got in. You retracted your blade, but kept the hand on his head. “If I don’t make it out of here, neither will you. You’ll be dead in thirty minutes, like your smuggler. It’s gonna be painful and ugly, trust me. But if I walk out of here, in five minutes you’ll have a delivery boy knocking at your door and handing you the antidote. So what’s it gonna be, Sionis?”

He took a moment, exhaling loudly as his breathing quickened. “Go” He muttered harshly, glaring up sideways at you with a thousand daggers. “Fucking shit hell, go!”

You grinned, making the motion of leaving, but you weren’t done just yet. “One more thing” You slammed his head on the table once again before letting him go. “Nightwing is off limits. You’d do well to remember it”

You backed off of him, letting him stand up again and adjust his suit with an undignified huff. His eyes shot thunder at your back as you retreated, smugly taking your spear out of a goon’s hand and exiting the casino. 

You weren’t such a fool not to expect retaliation, but at least you could say he had been warned through an over of what would be waiting for him. 

-----

You weren’t expecting a welcome party back home, but Dick was there, on his feet, leaning on the couch as he glared at the front door. 

“I thought you’d be back to sleep by now” You mused as you got in your apartment. You dropped your keys on the counter and made a show of putting down your spear. His eyes burned into yours as he watched your every move like a hawk. You raised an eyebrow as you took off your coat, then unclipped your utility belt and dropped it beside your keys. “Why now, are you finally out of clever one liners?” 

He scoffed, then crossed his arms against his chest and looked away.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re mad I went after Sionis” You kept speaking, as he clearly gave you the silent treatment. “Who, by the way, tried to kill you with rattlesnake venom, in case you have already forgotten”

“I’m not mad” He finally mumbled. “I’m mourning the days where I didn’t have to worry about you going on a killing spree anymore”

“Is that all you think of me?” Your tone turned dry as you took one step toward him. “A loose cannon that needs to be held on a leash?”

“I don’t know” He shrugged sarcastically. “From what I remember from your so called glory days, bodies pile up pretty quickly when you’re in a mood”

You closed your eyes as your eyebrows rose in disbelief. “I’ve always liked you, Dick” You began after taking a deep breath. “As yourself and as Nightwing. We’ve always had a lot of common enemies, and I was fine with sharing this city with you”

You paused, slowly closing the distance between you and him. His muscles were tense, and his posture was defensive.

“If you think this was bad, oh you’re in for a treat, honey” You were face to face now. “I held back out of respect for you. Sionis is alive, out of respect for you. I healed you out of respect for you. Now that I know none of that respect is reciprocated, what stops me from fully being the bad guy?”

He stood up fully, towering over you. You had to look upwards to hold his glare.

“Me”

You smirked. “You’re so full of yourself”

“You don’t believe I can?”

“Well, you couldn’t when I was holding back”

“What makes you think I wasn’t holding back too?” He raised a challenging eyebrow.

“You had no reason to leave me out on the streets to pile up bodies, as you put it so eloquently” You taunted. “Unless…”

You inched closer, your faces only inches apart now.

“Unless you liked the chase as much as I did”

“In your dreams” He sneered.

“Oh, every night without a fail” 

Before you could blink, he sneaked his hand behind your head and crashed his lips to yours. You were surprised, but you didn’t waste time leaning into it. For a man still weak from his previous poisoning, he recovered his spunk pretty quickly. His fingers dug into your side as you moved against each other, and if you didn’t know better, you’d believe he was trying to leave bruises on your skin. You returned the favor, brushing your hands against his bare chest, but his reaction wasn’t the one you had anticipated. He hissed, probably still sensitive around the stomach from the effect of the venom, and you took the opportunity to catch his lower lip between your teeth, giving it a soft bite. 

“Fuck” He grunted, his eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?” You hummed, tracing the dark bags under his eyes with your thumb. He opened his eyes once again, an incredulous and slightly offended glint in them that told you he was tired of you asking any variant of this question. “Alright, no need for hostility”

You returned your lip to his as he steadily backed you through your condo, navigating with assurance toward your bedroom. Your back pushed the door open with a thud, and soon after, you felt the mattress pressing behind your knees. You sat back, peeling off your shirt from your body and scooting further back on the bed. Dick climbed after you, pushing you on your back and wasting no time to crawl all over you again. You heard noise in the background, but you were too busy focusing on how blissful his mouth down your neck to your chest and back up made you feel. You barely noticed when your hands were brought up above your head, or when cold metal was secured around your wrists with a click. 

Then, his body weight above yours was abruptly taken off. You reopened your eyes, mind still a bit fuzzy as you stared in confusion at Dick standing at the foot of the bed. Your frown deepened when you gave a good tug on your wrist, but couldn’t bring them down. You narrowed your eyes, then read his smug expression and understood what he did. You were tempted to be mad, but you couldn’t help but give him a full blown grin”

“Well, well, well” You drawled out, relaxing back. These were your handcuffs, you knew there was no getting out of them so easily. “I gotta say, I’m impressed. Using my attraction to you to get me temporarily out of commission is cold. I didn’t know you had it in you”

“Well, you had it coming” He crossed his arms against his chest, but in a more relaxed manner this time. 

“Playing dirty now, are we?” You chuckled as you shamelessly checked him out. “Very well then. Next time we meet I’ll have adapted my game. I hope you’re ready”

You might have imagined it, but a small smile played on his lips just before he turned around and left you there, handcuffed to your bed frame.

[the-mad-hattie]

Pirate and Swapberry's Adventure

“So it’s genuine?” Pirate Chara asked.

“Completely legit.” Dance Chara answered. “Now of course I doubted it when you gave it to me, but after having my own contacts check its authenticity I can assure you it’s the real thing.”

“Great, we should be able to find it, snag it, and be back by the end of the week to sell it.” The man said putting the map into their coat ready to take off immediately.

“Oh I'm not coming with you.”

“Wait what?” Pirate was shocked to hear that. “I need another person to help sail the ship, and the ruins themselves will no doubt have puzzles that could use a second pair of eyes.”

“Look around us, we’re in a tavern of adventurers for hire.” Dance said gesturing to the many seated pirates, rogues, and mercenaries. “Oh and I’ll be taking my twenty percent off the top, so don’t go promising any big rewards to your volunteers. And don’t make me come after you, two weeks and then I better see you again.”

Pirate Chara waved off their partner and then returned inside the tavern to find a crew for this exploration. “Which of these fools should I take with me.” They pondered looking over the lot.

Pirate climbed upon a stool and decided to address the entire tavern for any takers, figuring at least one would show interest. “Greetings fellow adventurers, I’ve come to gather a crew for a journey that’ll make us all richer than our wildest dreams. Some of you may have heard of me already, the demon who comes when you call their name.”

“Aren’t you the guy who got mutinied and thrown into the ocean by their crew?” A voice in the crowd.

“So you have heard of me.” Pirate responded with a smile. “And yes, a slight misunderstanding that led to a poor situation. Nevertheless that was on the part of the crew, and I’ve never held it against them.”

“Didn’t you promise to find an ancient treasure filled city and came back empty handed?” Another voice added.

“Another misunderstanding.” Chara claimed. “I did in fact find the city, I just wasn’t able to bring back any treasure from it since the inhabitants were still rather lively and wouldn’t part with it. But it should still prove that when I make a bold claim like I’m about to that faith should be withstanding.”

“In my hand I hold a map to yet another fortune, one this time not owned by any kingdom of monsters and is ours for the taking.” Pirate began their speech. “I need only a single man to join me on this journey to travel out to a small island where an ancient lord of the sea stored a portion of their loot away from the rest to assure its complete secrecy should the main haul ever be plundered as it was.”

“Take me!” A tall lanky fellow yelled excited.

Pirate eyed the excited person but continued anyway. “Just one man to help sail the boat and be my first mate through the trapped filled dungeon of treasure.”

“Pick me! Pick me! Over here!” The person continued to yell out.

“If anyone here should be brave enough to join me-”

“I’ll do it! I’m brave!”

“Anyone at all? Someone’s lame uncle that needs one last adventure before retirement or a child y’all never want to see again?” Pirate tried digging the bottom of the barrel to avoid bringing a certain someone.

“I’m here!”

Pirate Chara sighed and looked the excited gentleman in the eyes. “I suppose you do know how to tie a knot for a sail?”

“Oh definitely Mr Captain Sir, I’ve been practicing all my sailing skills ever since I first wanted to join your crew!” Swapberry said excited to finally have the chance.

“Just meet me at the dock in fifteen minutes, may as well get sailing before I decide the treasure ain’t worth it.” Pirate told Ichi, wondering if any treasure would be worth being with this excitable airhead for two weeks alone at sea.

At the dock Pirate Chara had raised anchor and was about to set the sails so the wind would catch and pull the ship out of harbor. Swapberry showed up at the very last minute to Pirate Chara’s both dismay and relief.

“You ready?” Pirate asked as the fellow sailor boarded the ship.

“Aye aye captain.” Ichi answered. “So kind of a small ship you have here.”

“Yep.”

“One bed?”

“No beds, and even if there were a bed one of us needs to be awake at all times to make sure the ship stays on course.” Pirate took the liberty to explain there’d be no fooling around this voyage. “Can’t help it, I’m always cute.”

“Eye of the beholder.” Pirate responded with a vague meaning quote before returning to business. “I’ll take the first shift, you find a corner and make yourself at home. We’ll be sharing this boat for the next week or so.”

For the next few days Pirate Chara learned to enjoy Swapberry’s company, despite that awkward first meeting last year where Ichi had come off like a lost puppy looking to be adopted. The young sailor proved to be a valuable companion. They were clearly faking being a sailor and only knew half of what they claimed, and only half decent at what they did know, but they were a quick learner and picked up the ropes quickly. Ichi also proved a capable chef, the meals weren’t the most presentable, but they tasted alright. And thankfully all the cooking and sailing lessons took up all Ichi’s free time to try and come up with new flirts.

On the fourth day an island came into view and Pirate checked the map to confirm it was their destination. Lover’s Quarrel the island was nicknamed. An odd name for an island, presumably named after some ancient dispute between two lovers long ago.

“Now remember, this island is most likely filled with booby traps to stop anyone from getting to the treasure near the heart of the island.” Pirate Chara explained one last time to Swapberry.

“That’s okay, because neither of us have boobies.” The young man jokingly responded, getting a scowl from their captain. “Sorry.”

“Stay close, keep your eyes peeled, and most importantly don’t touch anything.”

“Aye aye captain.” Ichi saluted before getting out of the ship after Pirate and following their lead.

The trek through the trees was largely uneventful, just some vines Swapberry managed to tangle themselves forcing Pirate Chara to stop and help free them. After reaching the temple the real trouble started.

“This writing is near illegible, but from what I can tell the only way to enter these ruins is as a pair.” Pirate Chara said aloud.

Swapberry gasped. “This is all so sudden, but if you really want-”

“A pair of explorers, not a couple.” PIrate said standing Swapberry on one pressure plate and standing on the other themself to open the hidden entrance. “Now let’s head inside.”

Pirate dodged, ducked, and dipped past many traps and hidden dangers attacking them through their exploration, much more than needed to be avoided if a certain partner of theirs would stop stepping on every pressure plate in the ruins.

“Are you quite finished?” Pirate Chara asked in an unamused tone waiting on Swapberry to finish crossing the hall.

“Yep, and not a single-” Before Swapberry could finish their claim their foot landed on a hidden pressure plate launching poisonous darts into Pirate’s arm. “Ouch, sorry…. Again.”

As discovered many times earlier the darts’ poison had long since expired, but Pirate Chara was no more happier with non-poisonous darts sticking in them than poison tipped ones.

“Let me just-”

“I’ve got it.” Chara said plucking the darts and throwing them to the ground. “Stand here and let me read this inscription.” They said issuing an order to Ichi and then beginning their deciphering of the ancient wording. “At journey’s end only embracing will open the path.” They translated. “Embrace what? Is there a word missing?”

Time wasn’t on Pirate’s side to solve the riddle as walls and ceilings started moving and trapped them both at the locked door with the sound of dangerous things coming their way. Touching the writing must have triggered some kind of time limit for the riddle.

“Okay embrace.” Pirate took a deep breath trying to understand. “Embrace faith? Philosophy? Understanding? This is Lover’s Quarrel island, so the pair must have embraced differences of opinion to stay together, but how do you show an embrace of ideas?”

Swapberry was growing worried watching Pirate struggle to solve the riddle, they wanted to help but all their ideas were usually stupid ones. Even right now all they could think of for embrace was to grab Pirate’s hand and- Wait, that was it, an embrace of understanding. Ichi grabbed Pirate’s hand and held it theirs.

“What are you doing?!” Pirate yelled trying to take back their hand

“Just wait!” Ichi told Pirate, not letting go of their grip on the man’s hand.

Pirate tried yanking their hand from Swapberry’s grip. “Let go! If I don’t solve this we’re going to-” The worried pirate suddenly noticed the sound of death slowed down and stopped. “What happened?”

“We embraced.” Ichi smiled holding up Pirate’s hand in theirs in front of their face to show what the riddle meant.

“The riddle actually meant to embrace…. That’s surprisingly literal for once. Can I have my hand back so we can get the treasure?” Pirate requested.

“Oh of course.” Ichi said letting go of Pirate’s hand.

Pirate gave an appreciative node and entered the treasure room. They gave one last look around for traps before opening up the chest, inside was a note that read “the treasure is the friends we made along the way.”

“Well that sucks.” Ichi responded after hearing Pirate read it aloud.

“Yeah that is a cliche, good thing they left all these heart shaped rubies along with the note.” Pirate smiled, tossing one back towards Ichi.

“We’re rich!”

“Semi rich, rubies aren’t the most valuable, but they’re worth a pretty penny at the market.” Pirate explained. “Load them up and let’s head back.”

“Aye aye captain.” Swapberry saluted and grabbed the loot to carry to the ship after a successful journey, they even got to hold Pirate Chara’s hand. ___________________________________________

My half of an art trade with @channydraws hope you enjoy it.

[smalltragedy]

* natalia dyer, nonbinary + she/they | you know philomena carmichael, right? they’re twenty, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a day? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to the leanover by life without buildings like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole wind whipping around your hair, the gentleness of decomposition, a naked blur dancing around the flames of an everlasting fire thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is april 20th, so they’re a taurus, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 22, est, they/them )

hi thank u all fr being so patient w me as i rapidly switch out muses n figure out wht the fuck im doing atm <3 also sry fr my rare presence work hs been kicking my ass like lets jst say i deserve 2 b smbdy’s housewife (misogny wins this time sry) so i nvr hv to work in my life <3 DFSLKSDHKGLFSHLKAGHLKAHLKSG this is a joke 2 clarify. anyways. this is philly she’s old bt she’s one of my very favorites ever. this intro is also old sry its nt in my usual. style. LKDFKHGLKGF

CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION, DEATH, GRAPHIC MENTION OF DECAY, INSECTS MENTION TW.

mini playlist.

the girl who stole my tamagotchi ;; hot sugar / i dropped out ;; and the kids / pork soda ;; glass animals / wonderfully bizarre ;; bendigo fletcher / (dream) ;; salvia palth / alien blues ;; yundabar / dust in your pocket ;; glass animals / warm honey ;; willow / bela lugosi’s dead ;; bauhaus / gecgecgec ;; 100 gecs / blinding ;; florence and the machine / nantes ;; beirut / cherry-coloured funk ;; cocteau twins / not allowed ;; tv girl / oblivion ;; grimes / space song ;; beach house / dog food ;; 100 gecs / the leanover life ;; life without buildings.

statistics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, mena, etc.

birthday: april 20th, 2000. 

zodiac: taurus sun, scorpio moon, aries ascending.

mbti & temperament: infp & improvisor / phlegmatic. 

label: the halycon.

sexuality: demisexual.

pinterest.

biography.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

cancer tw // it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long. end of cancer tw //

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

depersonalization / derealization tw // it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs. depersonalization / derealization end of tw //

death, decay. maggots tw // there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot. end of death, decay, maggots tw //

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

after ending up with warrants from their arrest in florida (after running from the law in texas), philly and elektra have wound up at irving <3 partially hiding from the law and partially bcos their trusty van’s broken down and they haven’t got the money to fix her up yet. 

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon.

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been.

currently living in florence, their van, with her sister elektra <3 currently residing in lilac ridge.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. (smirks at leo)

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her (besides elektra).

has a certain knack for getting animals to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay.

wanted plots.

speaking through my third eye ... ;; philly is new in town n shes very strange. constantly lives in a state in which she does not exist (at least on the same plane). this is her harassing the locals. this is her slipping thru their fingertips as they attempt 2 understand her. they get close smtms bt philly jst. whisks herself away.

hollows of our eyelids ... ;; perhaps there is smbdy jst as strange as philly. i’m out here calling fr all the weirdos. lets be friends. lets hv philly n co go on adventures n discover horrible sites n uncover ancient secrets tht lie deep below irving. mayb nt tht. bt im jst saying. this is fr the dreamers. da weirdos. the jugheads. LHKDSHFSADLKGFHLSKADG fr those who also feel as if they r not real.

bills n aches n blues... ;; ya this is my call fr all negative plots. bills (catching philly be a thief and a fraud), aches (mayb heartache? unrecruited feelings or w/e theyre called?), n blues (ooooh so sad... so sad ... angst ...) obviously i am a genius. i wldnt say tht philly is here 2 make enemies bc philly doesnt care much abt ppl bt perhaps tht cld b an issue. tht she doesnt care much abt others. mayb ur muse is jst like. cn u pls care. n philly is like. i am incapable. sry. sucks.

n also ,, ;; like. anything i’ll. take anything. philly is weird lets come up w surreal plots tht verge on the edge of like. nt being correct fr this verse. suddenly theres vampires? or so they think ... smirks. anyways. shes been 2 jail n been in the circus (shoutout 2 kirby) n dances naked in the woods n hoards animals n treasures. we hv a lot to work with here obv. 

[lovehugsandcandy]

bloom (ColtxMC, RoD)

A/N:  I almost did not finish this in time for Colt day and I would have been heartbroken. (also, alternate summary was “Colt has a plant” but GOD why would he ever have that, right?) @rodappreciationweek

Pairing: Colt x MC, ROD

Length: ~4500 words

Rating/Warnings: N*FW (It’s not explicit but there’s enough there that it’s probably N*FW. And swearing.)

Summary: Bloom where you’re planted.

It comes cheap, as cash deals often do. The walls are riddled with holes, gaping gunshots and massive dents inflicted in incidents even he doesn’t want the stories of; the roof is in shambles, caved to the floor in spots while leaks spread oily over the surface in others. But the land is secluded, safe, and, though it needs work, the foundation is sound. 

Colt has never been afraid of hard work, anyway.

He wanted to rebuild on the ashes of his father’s shop. It would have been apt, fitting, rebuilding the place that had been his legacy, passed down from ancestor to ancestor until it arrived at his feet, decaying and ruined. 

But it was too obvious. Every single time he drove by, he could see the undercover cops staking out the place, blindingly obvious behind the tinted windows of shiny SUVs. The drive also made him ill; when he caught sight of the charred sign and burnt out support beams, his vision would sway, hands clammy in leather gloves, heart racing a frenetic beat. The last time he sped through, he had needed to pull over, two blocks away, to spew stomach acid into a gutter.

He hadn’t gone back since.

But this new shop, this would work. He would make this work, rebuild here, in safety and relative anonymity, forging a new crew and avenging all he had lost.

A bitter voice cuts through his mental scheming. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?” He glares daggers at Smokey, the gruff man selling the place who earned his name from the trail of tobacco wafting behind him.

“The yard.” 

He follows Smokey out back, to where two wrecks sit on concrete that bleeds into dust at the edges, all surrounded by rusted-out barbed wire fencing. The Lambo would be worth something, if the engine was still there, but the MacLaren is destroyed, probably only worth scrap metal and parts.

“All this is yours, too. But I ain’t moving shit.”

Colt shrugs. “Okay.” He surveys the lot. Buried in the dust, he notices a flash of green, a leaf peeking out of the dirt caked against a metal post. “The hell’s that?” he asks, pointing over to where the small stem is, remarkably, making its way out of the dry earth, spouting where no living thing should ever be able to grow. It’s tiny, barely an inch, but it’s vibrant amid the washed out dust basin surrounding it.

“That plant thing? Fuck do I know.” Smokey sticks his hand in his overall pocket, fishing around until he grabs a pack of smokes. “Anyway, like I said, it’s all yours.”

Colt hands over the cash, takes the keys, and starts planning.

~~~~~

He plasters the walls himself, sledgehammer tearing through the plywood and insulation, dust and dirt raining down on him until he’s covered, paint chips grinding into his skin until every visible inch is full of grit and grime. He stands in the shower for an eternity, scalding water raining on muscles tense with exertion, physical labor quieting the screaming rage in his head.

He can’t do everything himself, gets a truckload of guys to shingle the roof, hires an electrician to ensure that the lifts work on the floor. He keeps his ear to the ground, always scouting new talent, people looking to make a break into his world. There’s a few, various tuners and losers, but no one he trusts. Not yet.

One thing he can do is rebuild, plan, and deal with that stupid plant. He almost ignored it, figuring it would wither away on its own, but he has begrudging respect for something thriving in an inhospitable environment. The guy at the nursery thought it looked like a melon, handing over some instructions and a bag of soil that Colt balanced on his lap as the bike wove through city streets. It’s stupid, utterly ridiculous, but he puts the soil down, anyway. Maybe the melon just needs a chance.

By August, Mona’s out, sprung from jail by some hotshot lawyer and begrudging LAPD acknowledgement of the corruption in the force. He is under the bike when she saunters through the bay doors, a smirk on her face and swagger in her step. She makes a snide comment about his transmission, then wanders into the break room to make popcorn.

He stares after her for a full minute, completely befuddled, but finally shrugs and wanders out back to water the stupid melon.

He wonders if this is his life now.

~~~~~

Colt looks closer, dropping to his knees in a cloud of dust to peer incredulously at the ground beneath him. Yesterday, there had been only one green sprout, the result of careful tending and effort, somehow reaching burgeoning leaves through the fencing slats to chase the sun. But now, there are two, as an evil-looking clover emerges through the soil carefully packed against the fence. How the fuck did a weed grow here? Hell, he has no idea how the fucking melon was growing here, pushing through the dust that caked the ground, but he would be damned if he let a fucking weed ruin his work.

He’s just digging his fingers into the dirt, trying to get every offending root, when footsteps thud behind him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Mona asks, skeptically.

“Getting this fucking thing-”

“What is that?”

“A weed.” He drops the invader, and it scatters in the wind, dancing through the fencing.

“No…” She hesitates, sounding puzzled, and he squints at her profile in the sunlight, waiting. “The plant thing down there.”

“Guy at the store said he thinks it’s a melon.”

She blinks. “You’re growing a melon.” He doesn’t know what to make of her tone, half accusatory, half mocking, so he only shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. Finally, she snorts. “It might be nice for you.”

“What?”

“Might be nice for you to actually make something, instead of fucking shit up all the time.”

He glares daggers at her retreating back before inspecting the stupid green stem again. It might be his imagination, but it already looks stronger, as if culling the invading weed had already strengthened its roots. 

Maybe the fucking thing would thrive if its enemies were removed.

~~~~~~

In October, Ximena makes her way through the front door, a smile spreading across her face and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. He’s speechless as she lifts him into a giant hug, his ribs creaking in protest.

“Heard things were getting better around here, sweetie.” Colt feels a bashful flush heat his cheeks at the familiar nickname, but she’s not wrong. He and Mona had just swiped a couple of Sodertaljes for a half a million just last week, and he’s already scheming to snatch two more. The crew is making a name for itself; he’s rebuilding. “Where’s Mona?”

“Back room,” he answers, watching X stroll away in absolute confusion before he wanders to the yard. Apparently, he can’t control the comings and goings of the dregs of his father’s crew.

But maybe he can control the fucking plant.

~~~~~

Ellie doesn’t come home for Thanksgiving. 

He knew she wouldn’t. It’s his business to know things, the location of priceless cars, the name of the rival crew who’s been running jobs in the Hills. Collecting tidbits of information and splicing them into a bigger picture is one of those skills that keeps the crew afloat and him alive.

But knowing things about her (the spot at the curve of her shoulder that makes her cry out, exactly how much pressure to use where she’s so sensitive, hell, even the stupid, sappy shit like how she likes her coffee, all locked away deep in his brain), well, that’s far from business.

He knows her house (third from the corner with the busted up cruiser in the drive) and he would recognize her car anywhere, even just a flash of it.

She stays at school for Thanksgiving.

But she comes home for Winter Break. He drives by one morning (three am after a successful job, when the roar of adrenaline in his blood makes him desperately miss the one person he wants by his side) and it’s there, vivid pink reflecting the streetlights. He has to remind himself to fucking breathe.

The next afternoon, groggy after tossing and turning all fucking night, he can’t decide when he should just show up at her house and how to avoid the detective if he did. 

He actually doesn’t need to decide. 

“Why didn’t you rebuild the old shop?”

He spins, splashing the coffee in a sticky mess over concrete (one cream, two sugars, far too sweet to be anything more than a reminder). “What-” The smile on her face is playful, teasing, and his fingers itch to run through her hair. “How did you…?”

“You’re not the only one who has friends in low places.” She turns at the echoing footsteps and is soon swept into hugs and smiles and the dull banter of catching up. 

But after, after he steals her away, upstairs to his loft, coaxing sugar sweet sounds from her lips with the rapaciousness of a man denied for far too long, he ensures that she remembers exactly who she came to the shop to see. 

When he’s exhausted, temporarily sated yet only waiting until the next burst of energy for round two, he traces random designs down her bare back. “You ready to come back, yet?”

“Colt…”

“Hey, I know you’re too good for school. Just wondering if you know it yet.”

She spins in his arms; when her bare skin glances across his chest, he tightens his fingers, still curled into her back. “Jesus, Colt, you haven’t changed at all.”

“Did you expect me to?”

“Your dad…” His nails dig into her back at the mention; her wince makes him drop his hand to the sheets. She continues, “Your dad wanted more than this. For you.”

“What about what I want?”

“Well, what about what I want?”

He blinks, pulling his arm back. “The fuck? You’re doing what you want across the fucking country.” He watches her stand and storm about the room, pulling on clothes, swiping at her eyes. “Ellie, come on-”

“This was a mistake.”

He sits up, crossing his arms over his bare chest to fix her with his darkest glare. “What the hell does that-“

“I should have…” She trails off and, for a moment, he sees the glimmer of indecision in her eyes. “I made my choice. I’m going back to school and I can’t…” Her voice wavers and she doesn’t even finish the sentence.

When the door slams, he flops against the bed, worn and wilting. 

~~~~~

Winter brings the first fruit. 

One of the many benefits to living in Southern California is the weather, where each sunny day is a picture-perfect copy of the last. So, even though it’s February, Ximena watches as he carefully cuts the fruit from the vine and stands, cradling it in one arm. “Huh,” she says, shooting him a critical eye. “It’s kinda like that saying: bloom where you’re planted.”

“Huh?”

“The saying… bloom where you’re planted? It kinda means… um….“ Her hands flail about before settling across her chest. “Work with what you’ve got? Plants need fertile soil and plenty of water and sunlight. That plant was given this dusty piece of shit lot owned by a fledgling crew. But even though these aren’t really the best conditions, it’s still blooming anyway. Even though the circumstances aren’t the best, you need to use your talents where you are, not think about what could have been.”

He runs the words through his head, callused fingertips tracing the dappled skin of the melon, trying not to think of different circumstances. “Christ, X.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Its just a fucking plant.” He turns and heads through the shop, careful not to splatter fruit on the concrete, her heavy footsteps close behind. 

Mona is already in the break room, lazing about the table, and he gingerly cuts into the skin, handing her and Ximena a pale orange slice.

“Is it hygienic to cut it with that knife?” X asks, teasingly, but takes the proffered piece, regardless. 

“Shut up and try it.”

He waits as they bring it to their mouths, holding his breath as each takes a tentative bite. Finally, Ximena breaks the silence, wrinkling her nose. “It’s kind of… bitter.”

“You mean it’s fucking awful!” Mona spits the blob of flesh into a napkin, disgust curling her lip, and she wipes at her tongue rapidly.

He glares at them steadily but can’t disagree once he cuts his own piece. It tastes wrong, flesh too chewy, too tart on his tongue. His eyes water as he swallows it down; he closes the switchblade and chucks the entire melon into the trash.

Maybe this whole thing is a fucking waste of time. 

Maybe nothing would ever bloom at this shop.

~~~~~

Winter also brings Toby. 

Colt hears the engine roar from the loft and, when he opens the bay door, he gapes at the blaze before him, raging from the hood of a modded-up import.

“It’s not supposed to do that.” Toby leaps from the driver’s seat, grabbing the fire extinguisher that he apparently keeps conveniently under the passenger seat.

“No shit.”

“I think I dialed the ignition force up a little too high, but with a couple of modifications-”

“What are you doing here?”

Toby’s jaw drops. “What do you mean? I heard you were building a new crew.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you suck at the delicate modifications needed to create the next generation of revolutionary sports cars, and you also wouldn’t know your way around surveillance technology if it bit you in the ass and bought you a milkshake afterwards.”

What the... Awkward phrasing aside, he’s not wrong. “What the fuck. Is everyone just gonna waltz right in and…” Colt trails off as Toby walks away, tripping over nothing on his way down the hall.

The cheer when he strolls into the break room is loud, raucous. Colt wonders when his shop became the thrift stop for local rejects.

He wonders why he does nothing about it.

~~~~~

“I’ve heard they like it when you play music for them.”

Colt looks up. “The fuck?!?”

Toby peers down at where he is carefully packing more soil around the base of the stem. “The plants,” he explains, eyes blinking wide behind his thick lenses. “I think they like music. Do you wanna borrow one of my German trance electronica CDs?”

“God, no,” Colt snarls, standing and wiping dirt on his jeans before turning heel, storming back into the shop.

After watching for two days (weren’t there supposed to be flowers sprouting on this fucking thing?), he finally buys a wireless speaker, hiding it next to the fence. At first, he tries classical; based on a quick internet search, soothing orchestra is recommended. However, the strings gnaw on his ears and, even worse, the plant still looks like shit. 

Once he’s annoyed with that prissy crap, he flips to music he likes and is amazed when the furled leaves seemed to get greener and greener. Colt can just make out 2pac as he stares in amazement at the plant. Will I see the penitentiary or will I stay free? He shakes his head and walks away; he doesn’t know shit about plants.

~~~~~

She comes back for Spring Break, too. He doesn’t even need to drive by her house; she posts a picture at LAX, beaming grin filling his phone screen as she poses at arrivals.

He waits, doing petty jobs and minor repairs, anything to keep his hands occupied, but it doesn’t stop his mind from racing. Finally, on the fourth day, soft footsteps edge onto the shop floor. He tries to keep his eyes from widening; based on her smirk, he doesn’t succeed. 

He doesn’t even let her speak, crossing the floor in five steps, arm on her wrist, dragging her upstairs so he can push her against the door.

“I’m not gonna apologize.” He says it into her mouth, words rushed to shorten the time before her lips were on his.

“I would never expect you to.”

“You know how important this is to me.” Her fingers curl in his jacket as he rolls his hips.

“I know,” she moans as his lips slide down her neck. “I just want… you could be so much more than this. I don’t want you to destroy yourself.”

He makes his way back up to kiss her ear. “Fuck, Ellie.” His voice is low with promise and she shivers at every word. “I’m going to destroy you.”

She laughs joyful and clear as they fall into bed, and he reacquaints himself with the curve of her shoulder, the soft skin of her thigh. The dirt under his nails leaves streaks of grit down her back, over her ass, and he scrubs her clean in the shower, catching the droplets of water as they fall from her lips.

“How long are you staying this time?”

She’s in a towel, water still dripping from the pile of hair at her nape, skin glowing from being scrubbed clean. Colt had never seen anything so radiant. “I’m home until Sunday.”

“Not what I was asking.”

“Tonight?” She bites her lips, eyes wide on his.

“I’ll take tonight.” He leans over to pull on the fabric, dropping the towel to the floor. Beaming, she squeals as he pulls her back into bed. If he only had tonight, he was gonna make it fucking worth it.

~~~~~

They try the melon again. It’s May and the days are getting longer; snooty colleges would soon let underclassmen fly home for the summer.

He tries not to think about it.

He cuts through the fruit, three pairs of eager eyes around him, and hands out crescents, his leg bouncing under the table as he waits and watches the crew take hesitant bites.

“It’s…” Mona chews thoughtfully. “It’s not bad.”

Ximena smiles. “It is definitely better than last time. It’s not very sweet, but at least it’s not terrible.”

“Thanks,” he replies dryly.

“What do you guys mean?” The words are hard to comprehend over the entire wedge that Toby has crammed into his mouth. “This is incredible!”

Colt takes a tentative bite. It definitely wasn’t as bad as last time, the sourness of the last attempt now faded into an inoffensive tartness. The flesh is soft against his tongue, but it’s not sweet; unlike the fruit from the store, it is bland, inoffensive, boring.

At least it’s edible, a marked improvement from when the first fruit sprung from the barren soil.

Only Toby takes another piece, but Colt counts it as a win.

~~~~~

The soil disappears easily, lather carrying it down the drain as if it were never there. The grease is more difficult, solvents and scrubbing not enough to take everything off, and he can see the dark lines coating his skin for days, until they are as much a part of him as the freckles dotting his nose and the scar under his rib cage.

He carries other dirt with him, foul and dark, and no amount of scrubbing will ever make him clean.

~~~~~

He almost thinks she won’t come back, not this time, that Spring Break was a bittersweet goodbye and her full year away has convinced her that her new life is a better fit, holding more promise than a crew still finding its legs and growing into its reputation. He fears her time in the books may have taught her she belongs in musty libraries and dim corridors, soaking up knowledge like she soaked up gearshifts and speed, and that formulas and theories would replace the itch to drive fast and take chances.

But he’s wrong.

The door opening on the shop floor barely twinges his consciousness, and the increased chatter doesn’t stir him either. He just rolls over, burrowing his face into the pillow.

But the hands sliding down his bare back definitely jar him awake and he whirls, brain working far slower than his limbs, and it takes a minute to come to grips with the figure in front of him. When he finally realizes that she isn’t some dream-induced phantom but is real, a corporeal figure perched over him, morning sunlight glancing off her hair and fingers solid at his back, well, then he moves, quickly pulling her down before she can change her mind, relearning how she cries out and moans his name.

After, her body drapes over his, slick skin on slick skin, and his fingers trace their way up her back, her forearms; he’s comparing the real Ellie in his arms with that of memories and dreams and his mental mapping is disturbed when her lips forms words, hot against his chest. “Have you ever gotten something you wanted and realized that you might not want it anymore?”

The question makes him pause; he can think of a million things he’s wanted, desperately, abject need coursing through his veins and making him desperate to destroy all obstacles.

But he can think of only one he has actually gotten. He pulls her close, heart simmering at the question, and drags needy lips up the bare skin of her shoulder, etching tongue and teeth in a haphazard line that only stops behind her ear, when the moan flows through her chest and vibrates against his skin. “I’ve gotten things I wanted and realized that I wanted them even more.”

Her answering smile glows in the sunlight and, yet again, he finds himself again lost to the world of sensation and pleasure and the utter rightness of her body under his.

When she sits up in bed, hours later, he is deeply satisfied when her voice again rasps over his name; he is so distracted by imagining all the things he can do that will make her again dip the vowel, slow and sexy, tongue sliding over the single syllable desperately, that he misses the question. “Wha-?”

“Show me around.”

He narrows his eyes. “You’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, but...” She tilts her shoulder and tugs the sheets tighter around bare skin; Colt pulls his eyes from mapping the dark marks lining her shoulder and focuses on her words. “I only really saw the break room and your bedroom.”

“The only important spots here.”

She huffs a sigh. “Show me around?”

“Fine, fine.” He trudges out of bed, dressing slower than normal since his eyes won’t stop cutting to her, jealously watching her jeans slide up to cover the teeth marks on her thigh. If she was just going to skip off again, he was going to do his damnedest to memorize the sight of her perched on his bed, glowing in the daylight.

“Ready?” she prods.

He rolls his eyes, throwing on his t-shirt and walking out of the room, taking the stairs twice at a time, hand vaguely waving at the shop floor as he saunters through. “Hydraulic lift. Air compressor. Impact wrench. The piece of shit that Toby swore he could get running two months ago, but the engine still won’t fucking turn over.” He turns to see her trailing careful fingertips over a toolbox. “Can we go back upstairs?”

“Is it like your dad’s shop?”

He starts. Usually he bristles when people mention Pop, fury and regret and a deep need to prove himself just below his skin; however, there is only curiosity brimming in her eyes, a hint of concern below the surface. He has nothing left to prove to her. “What?”

“I dunno. Does it have everything the old shop did?”

He shrugs. “Mostly. There’s more space, so I added in another lift. We also have the lot, so Tony has been collecting more pieces of shit that he swears will be vintage collectors one day.”

“There’s a lot?”

“Hm?” He eyes the distance between them and the stairs, probably 50 feet, but he could get Ellie back there and up to the loft in seconds if he were properly motivated. “Yeah, out back.”

“Can I see?”

Internally, he groans but nods, leading her out the back door and into the sun. It’s the same dust pit as normal, and he casts an unimpressed eye around the heaps of metal. However, Ellie looks enraptured, peering around the wrecks, walking the perimeter in slow, careful steps. 

“Wow, it’s huge.” He shrugs; he feels the tips of his ears reddening and tries to fight it, but it’s a lost cause when she gazes at him like that. “Wait…” She pauses, eyes falling to the ground. “What’s that?”

“What?”

She kneels to the ground, hovering over the dust to stroke careful fingers over the melon. “This.”

“A stupid plant.”

“A plant?” She blinks up at him, squinting against the midday sun, and this time he can’t suppress the huff.

“Yeah, it’s a stupid melon thing. It was here when I bought the place and I’ve been trying to actually get something decent, but it’s fucking pointless.” She stares at him so long he fidgets, rocking back on his heels. “We’ve tried it a couple times, but it never tastes good. And I looked up when to water it and the guy at the shop blathered on about soil and sunlight, but it never seems to come out right.”

She falls silent again, and he stuffs his hands in his pocket, waiting until she finally asks, “You… you did this?”

He gapes. He did everything in this fucking place, from installing the bay doors to filling the tool chests to even putting together the bed she had just fallen apart in. “Yeah?”

“Huh,” she murmurs, eyes falling on him as if she was just seeing him for the first time.

He rocks back on his heels. “It’s just a stupid fucking plant.”

“I just… I never expected… you...” She stares at him, piercingly, as if she could see right through him, deep inside his brain to his deepest thoughts and desires and fears, deep to where she had already twisted tendrils inside him that he could never prune. “I thought you were gonna burn yourself down.”

“And I said we were both gonna be great.”

She bites her lip, considering, and Colt has the dawning realization that can actually, finally get what he wants. “When are you supposed to get fruit?” she asks and his heart skips a beat.

“Well…” He calculates days in his head. “It flowered a week ago, so I dunno, three more weeks? A month?” A smile spreads, slow and sure across her face, and Colt realizes that things will be different. “Why?” He smiles back. It’s impossible not to break into a grin when she looks at him like that, like he answered a question she never asked. “You gonna stick around?”

~~~~~

And when they finally cut into the melon, a week after he built two more things (a desk and a dresser, painted in such an audacious shade of pink that he smirks every time he walks into their room), he licks the juice dripping from the corner of her mouth, sucking the sweetness and laughter onto his tongue. It tastes amazing. It tastes like home.

.

Tags:

Perma @desireepow--1986 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn @thequeenofcronuts @lilyofchoices @choicesarehard @desireepow-1986

ROD  @mskaneko @lovemychoices @burnsoslow @troublemakerinspace @omgjasminesimone

Colt

@deimosensblog  @alegria1580   @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices  @maxwellsquidsuit  @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @theeccentricbibliophile @dancingboba @tempesrature

RoDAW @ritachacha

[satuguro]

don’t say that you love me | pt. 2

IN WHICH: harry osborn is too persuasive for his own good, and y/n needs a getaway.

INSPO: how to be yours — chris renzema, the night we met — lord huron, my recent break up :))

NOTES: i didn’t expect this much love on my last fic. thank you all so much, and i hope this new year and decade brings you all joy <3 i also love the idea of having timothee chalamet as harry osborn, so that’s who i’m “casting” as harry in my fic lmao

LINKS: part one, part two

For days, you found yourself sluggishly walking to your classes, barely able to take your mind off of anything but Peter Parker, much to your discontent.

When they say that you can never stop thinking about people you care about, they weren’t kidding. Before, you scoffed every time Betty stressfully texted you about how everything reminded her of her ex, advising her to, “If he’s not thinking about you, don’t think of him.”

Now you understood. You wanted him to think of you, to look at the hoodie you made Ned give back to him, and have his heart hurt as much as you did. But looking at him longingly from across the classroom, watching as he laughed with Mj Watson— you doubted his heart hurt. He was happy; happier without you by his side.

“Hey. You wanna add the acid?” Your partner, Harry Osborn, nudged your shoulder gently as he spoke.

Blinking to get yourself out of your trance, you nodded solemnly as you took the dropper with the acid, dropping a few drops into the boiling beaker without so much as a sigh. You were glum, that much was obvious, but Harry couldn’t help but snort to himself at your sigh.

“Wow, I’m not that bad, you know.”

“What?” As if in a spell, you looked at him with confusion. It took a few seconds for his words to fully process in your head. “Oh. No, not you, Osborn.” You shook your head, placing your head in your hands as you tried to make yourself snap out of it. He didn’t have the right to be in your head so much.

“I thought we were on a first name basis!” Harry gasped, feigning shock as you hit him lightly on the shoulder with a roll of your eyes. Chuckling to himself, Harry stated, “I’m kidding, Y/N. I know that Parker’s the reason why you’re all down.” Harry, with his nonchalant tone and cheeky smile, made you scoff as you looked back at your lab book as if you were paying attention. You were, of course.

“The chemicals are burning, Harry.”

“What? Oh, shit.” Hastily, Harry grabbed the tongs, picking up the smoking beaker and setting it aside. Your chemistry teacher was eyeing you both as Harry offered an innocent smile that you couldn’t help but chuckle at. It was nice to laugh for once.

•

“Do you want him as a rebound?”

The sudden question caught you off guard, pulling your attention away from the chemistry notes that were sprawled out in front of you. To the right of you, a boy shushed you and Betty harshly.

A frown tugged at the sides of your lips as you tilting your head to the side. “Who as a rebound? I’m too tired for this,” you sighed.

“Yes, a rebound! Are you gonna have Harry Osborn as a rebound guy or not?” Betty questioned, excitement evident as she pulled the chair out from in front of you with a screech and sat down. She plopped her things to the side loudly, rolling her eyes as the same boy shushed her.

With one turn of her head, Betty shushed him back before focusing back towards the task at hand: you.

“What— No! Why would I? I mean, should I?” Your brows furrowed. Betty knew more about relationships than you ever could know— was having a rebound guy normal?

“Why not?” The smile she had on her face was ecstatic, enthusiastic, even. “Word in the halls say that he likes you a lot,” she explained, her grin growing as a gleam of mischief caught in her eye. Of course she’d know about his liking to you before you did; Betty was a sucker for gossip. You knew there was no saying no— when Betty had a plan, she was going to execute it in the best way possible.

“I still don’t know why Peter broke up with me, Bets,” you reminded, running a hand down your face as if you were wiping away all the thoughts in your head. “As much as I hate saying it out loud, I’m not over him. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“Exactly why you should go out with Harry!” Clapping her hands uncharacteristically in excitement, Betty stood up, gathering her things quickly. “My dad should be here about now. But think about it, Y/N!” She waved you goodbye as she left you, alone and even more confused as before, staring at the notes you had made.

You wanted to ask Peter what the reason was for breaking up with you. But how could you do it if you haven’t spoken to him since the ball?

You stayed in the library until the moon hung high over the city and the city lights flashed into the library’s large windows. Your head was in your hands as you read the same paragraph again for what seemed to be the 84th time. You were tired, trying to keep yourself awake for just a little longer.

You left when the janitor yelled at you to.

Trudging down the illuminated streets, your face blank as you tried to remember all the terms you had written down, you barely even noticed the sound of thwips overhead. You were too out of it, too in your own head to even hear the soft sound of a bang and the tiny, “Ow,” that followed.

He had to say something snarky to get your attention.

“Too late for a walk, don’t you think?”

“Says the one who’s out here with me.” You glared towards the voice, your gaze softening when you saw the masked hero of New York— Spider-Man, standing on a light pole in all his red and blue glory. “Oh. You.” You turned away from him, not even acknowledging him for more than five seconds before acting as if he was just another annoying side character to your life.

“You’re nice,” the hero hummed, his tone playful as he swung to the next light pole ahead. His composure was calm and collective, but unknown to you, Peter Parker’s heart was beating too fast for his body as he followed you down the sidewalk. Of all the ways he could’ve tried to talk to you, this had to be the worst way to do it. “So,” he jumped onto the ground, landing perfectly on his feet alongside you, “am I going to have to ask why you’re walking outside at 3 am on a Wednesday?”

“School’s beating me with a bat. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Peter frowned from under the mask. Worry surged in his veins, much to his own guilt, and he found himself tapping you on the shoulder as he offered you his hand. “Do you, uh, want a ride?”

“A ride?” Your eyes widened, the deep purple bags that hung under them now gone as you looked at him with shock. Your lack of sleep was softening your reactions, making it as if you were speaking with a random boy rather than New York’s masked hero. “I mean—“

“It’s better and safer than walking alone on the street,” Peter added, the whites of his suit wide as he tried to persuade you. Whether it was the guilt in his stomach or his automatic concern for people’s safety, some part of him needed to know that you made it home safe. “Please; it’s the least I can do.”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, your face uncertain but the aching in your body screaming otherwise. Hesitantly, you took his hand, holding it tightly as you moved closer to him. “Go ahead, Spidey.” The nickname was quick, a common one, but one that Peter found himself smiling at as he shot a web up into the sky.

His hands found its way around your waist, holding you flush against him as he brought the both of you up above the roads of New York. The yelp you let out was soon replaced by your laughter as you felt the wind whip your face, the addictive feeling of falling and being caught running through your body. You were more awake than you ever had been in months, your arms wrapped around Spider-Man’s neck as he laughed with you.

The world looked so pretty from the air.

It was over as soon as it began, his feet landing on your light-decorated balcony with a soft thump. He let you go gently, unwrapping his arms from you and allowing you to step back. Your hair was a mess, wild and tangled from the wind, but a grateful smile was etched on your face.

“Thank you— I needed that,” you murmured, shifting your things as you looked into the whites of the hero’s mask.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s no problem,” Peter stammered, heart beating hard as he looked at you. You were beautiful. But as the thought came, so did new waves of guilt and anger towards himself come. Frowning from under the mask, he shook his head to himself as he jumped up to the balcony railing. Offering a playful salute, he swung away, ignoring the aching in his heart.

That night, as you laid in your bed thinking of the kind hero, a thought came into your mind that made your heart stop.

You never told him where you had lived.

Peter felt guilty.

He had nearly crashed into multiple buildings on his way home. His mind, much to his discontent, couldn’t think of anything else other than you. What he had done to you was nothing like him— but that didn’t change the fact that he still did it.

He was so screwed.

You didn’t encounter Peter Parker until you attended a New Years' party at the Osborn’s house.

Naturally, you were invited. Harry had made it his very duty to pull you out of the deep hole Peter had left you in, even if you had little to no interest in attending any party in the first place. But Harry, with his dimpled smiles and cheeky persuasive comments, had no problem convincing you to go. He had claimed that he could’ve taken you to the ball drop to see it in person, but he didn’t want to deal with all the other people there.

You picked at the rim of your cliche red solo cup, hesitant as you stood on the sidelines of the party. You had lost Harry ages ago— the boy was like a hummingbird, flying from one person to another with his hair wild and energy practically radiating off of him. You didn’t mind it; it was his party, after all. You didn’t know how he could be so energetic with no alcohol in his veins; he had told you that he didn’t plan on drinking throughout the entirety of the party, for he saw everyone at his party as his responsibility.

The loud thumping of the bass was all that filled your mind as you sipped the punch you had poured. It tasted strongly of vodka, poignant on your tongue as you swallowed it down with a slight wince. You weren’t used to drinking, but the want to have a good time was strong in your mind as you tilted your head back. You forced the alcohol down, wanting to have a good memory ( if you could even remember the next day ) after the days of stress and sadness.

The rest was a blur. Harry had found you ( or maybe you found him— you didn’t know ) and had led you to the dance floor, jumping along with you to the beat of the music. He had tied his tie around your head like a bandanna, yelling something about “making sure boys know you’d beat them up.” You were laughing, joking around and yelling lyrics with him as both of you danced like idiots. Harry’s hand was holding yours, making sure you weren’t going to drown into the crowd as the both of you danced. You had lost track of the time and the refills of punch you had, your world spinning and the lights hitting your face as if you had fallen straight out of Euphoria.

Giggling to yourself, you dragged Harry out of the crowd and brought him to the punch bowl ( again ). You reached for the ladle like a child, only for it to be taken away by Harry.

“You’re drinking like my Aunt Jackie on Thanksgiving,” he stated, keeping the ladle away from you, watching your pouting face with amusement.

“I’m not Aunt Jackie,” you replied blatantly, practically leaning against him and the table for support as you tried to make yourself sound serious. At your woozy tone, Harry chuckled and shook his head, curls bouncing every which way.

“I know, Y/N.”

You shoved yourself dramatically against the table, the dancing of the others in front of you catching your eye and making you stare. Thoughts, most of them unintelligible, bounced around in your head. You were frowning now, moods swinging as you tried to focus on one thing at a time.

“I miss him,” you announced.

“I know you do.” Harry stood next to you, his hands on the table behind him as he looked at you. Your chest was heaving from the dancing, your cheeks red as you stared blankly at the dancing bodies. “Hey,” he nudged you gently, catching your attention. “You’ll get over him. I know you will.” Despite his voice being soft, it still stood out from the chaos around the two of you.

One side of your mouth twitched upwards. “You think so?”

Harry’s terrible attention span reached him before your words could. “New Year’s! It’s almost here!” He took your hand, weaving you through the people as he led the both of you to the living room.

There, the projector showed the New York ball drop in real-time. Thirty seconds flashed on the timer as Anderson Cooper spoke about something that none of you were interested in in the slightest.

Harry pulled you onto the oak wood table in the middle of the living room, holding you close to him so that your wobbly legs wouldn’t bring you off the edge. You flashed him a grin, placing your hands around his neck messily as you both looked at the projector.

“Here it is! Three!” Harry yelled, cheering with everyone else as people began to pair up.

“Two!” Your eyes, wandering and heavy, landed on an image that made you want to throw up. In the corner, hidden and away from the rest of the world.

Peter and Mj.

“One!” Mj’s arms were thrown over his neck, bringing him closer to her. Peter, with an adoring smile, closed his eyes as he leaned his face closer to hers.

You tore your eyes away from them, focusing on Harry’s smiling face as he waited for the ball to drop. Before he could yell out a “Happy New Year,” you took his face, leaning it down to yours. Only then did you pause, before he gave you a reassuring smile that made you land your lips onto his.

“Happy New Year!” You shut your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks as you deepened the kiss. It was desperate, an escape from the reality that stood across the room from you and Harry.