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animeniacss · 4 years ago

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Coffee On a Tuesday - Namjoon x Reader [One-Shot]

Synopsis: Never judge a book by its cover, unless you’re using that cover to flirt with the cute boy a few tables over.

*this is a gift for my friend @saesbyeols / @byeolbitch who is a Joonie lover. <3 Please go support her she’s a wonderful fic writer

Genre: Romance, College AU, Slight Vmin being goofy, Quirky and Awkward Flirting

Length: approx. 7.2k words

Coffee on a Tuesday - Namjoon x Reader [ONE-SHOT]

College means a lot of different things for different people: working hard towards your goals, creating memories with different people all different places as you honed your skills together, staying up until 3 a.m. partying while your 10-page paper sat idly on your dorm room desk with nothing more than your name on it, scarfing ramen down for breakfast, lunch, and dinner almost 5 days out of the week. Regardless of the experience, college was a place where anything and everything could happen. Despite the endless different paths that interwove among each other throughout the campus, you found yourself following the same one every day: the path leading directly to your dream job. To do that, however, you had to follow the path that led to the library. Your career required a lot of studying, a lot of time dedicated to your academics. Parties were few and far between for you, because even if you did go, you would find yourself mingling with the mathematical equations in your head rather than other partygoers. Today was another day that you found yourself strolling down the bustling paths, past groups of friends chatting about homework and weekend plans. The break-in your classes allowed you the perfect opportunity to utilize the library during a time where afternoon classes were in full swing, it was glorious. The campus library acted as both a place for college goers and the public, however, during stressful moments in school such as finals, or summer classes, the building would mostly be inhabited by stressful college students who needed a quiet place to get their work done. It didn’t bother you who was in the library, or when you were there. You just loved to be there.

Stepping into the library almost immediately eliminated the polluted chaos of outdoor conversation, and soft conversations scattered through the building took their place. Librarians chatted with one another behind their long desk, students passed by with their noses in books as they looked around for a place to study. Just by standing in the front entrance of the building, you turned immediately in the direction you wanted. This library was a convoluted maze to the untrained freshman eye, any amateur could find themselves lost in rows and rows of romance novels for hours while they try to locate the science fiction. This was not an issue for you, as you had memorized the library map long before even memorizing your school schedule. The library was your safe space, no doubt about that. Fixing your bag that rested on your shoulder, you made your way towards the collection of tables that were set in an open area for students to together and sit while they studied the day away. This area tended to be the most crowded, and you could see people lined up against the walls as they used their laptops, while other students sat in small groups and studied or worked on group projects together, whispering to each other as to not disturb their neighbors. You quickly found a home at a small, two-chair table, using the other unavailable seat as a backpack holder. You nestled yourself cozily into your high-raised seat and pulled out all of your books from your morning classes, flipping to the homework pages and quickly getting to work as you tuned out the commotion happening around you.

Homework problems were being solved at a blazing pace, flipping from one page to the next, and scribbling down all that you could. The answers were easy to find if you just looked hard enough in the text. You could never understand the students who claimed they couldn’t find the problems – that normally meant that they didn’t try hard enough. But that wasn’t the case for you. Before you knew it, the assignments for one of your classes were completed. A smug grin popped on your face as you shut your textbook and notebook, stuffing them back in your pockets.

“What should I do now?” you mumbled to yourself, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you scanned the area. As you did so, an unfamiliar sight caught your attention. A tall man in light blue jeans and a black and white striped shirt strolled into the area full of tables. He fixed his glasses, which shielded two beautiful dragon-shaped eyes behind their thick frames. The man strolled in here as if he had built the place himself, knowing every nook, cranny, and corner of the building, though this was the first time you had ever seen him at this hour. Your head remained still, but your eyes were on him like a hawk watching its unsuspecting – and frankly very attractive – prey, trailing him as he walked towards an open table only a few feet away and plopped himself down. You were sitting perpendicular to him, so you would have to turn your head if you wanted a good look at him. Quickly, you shuffled your seat to the other side of the table, giving yourself a much better view. The man opened up his bag and pulled out a book, not a textbook, or a notebook, just a book. The distance prevented you from reading the title, but it seemed like one he had already begun reading, as he flipped the book to the middle, bending the spine almost perfectly in half, fixing his glasses, and seemingly beginning to read.

Wonder what he’s reading. You thought to yourself. Glancing over at your bag, you took one more scan around the vicinity. Everyone in the area seemed to be busy, so you had no problem leaving your bookbag to guard your spot while you got up. Maybe I can start up a conversation. Swinging your legs forward, you hopped out of the seat and slowly began making your way towards the silent man, whose stunning almond-shaped eyes were still glued to the pages in front of him. You had to admit, the intensity to which he was reading was really hot. As you walked closer, however, you began to get a bit nervous. Would he be annoyed that you interrupted him? You had no idea what you would ever say to successfully have a conversation with him. You could see him getting closer and closer to you with every step you took, each one making your heart race just a beat faster. He got closer and closer and closer…

….and you walked right past him.

Letting out a deep exhale, you quickened your pace into one of the many rows of books. You craned your head just slightly to see if he turned towards the figure that had just passed him, but it seemed like he did not. When the opportunity presented itself, you found yourself hiding in the self-help section of books, which, unsurprisingly, was vast in its options for any and all helpless college students. You watched from afar as the boy idly flipped his papers and continues to read as if there was nobody else in the world except for him and this book.

I don’t know what to say to get his attention. You thought to yourself, lips pursed together in aggravated frustration. Just as you continued to rack your brain, finally, the boy’s head lifted up from its craned position down at the book. Even though he was not looking in your direction, you instinctively found yourself hiding deeper within the wall of shelves. As you did, your eyes scanned the spines of multiple different self-help books. How to Cook Without Burning the House Down: A Guide to Prevent Fires, How to Do Laundry and Smell Nicer, How to Manage Your Time…. Titles like these continued throughout the rows. You had to admit, a few of them gave you a chuckle, just at the idea that some students really do need to know these things when they leave home for the first time. As you were scanning, your eyes fell upon one in particular.

How to Say Hello: A Guide for People With Social Anxiety.

“Maybe this?” you mumbled to yourself, pulling out the book from its spot on the shelf. Holding it in your hands, you saw the title was big, bold, taking up most of the cover, while the subtitle was not as noticeable. You quickly skimmed through the thin book, wondering if the contents inside were helpful. You were sociable, sure, but for some reason, the second you laid eyes on this man, it was as if you lost all ability to function like you did moments ago. As you thumbed through the pages, the sound of a chair pushing back was heard, and you looked up. From where you stood, you could see the boy get up from his chair and set his book in his bag. Was he leaving? He turned to a young girl at the table beside him, tapping on his shoulder. When the woman looked over, the boy smiled.

“Would you just watch my stuff while I run to the bathroom?”

“Sure…” the girl said softly, her voice trembling slightly. A smile formed on his face.

“Thank you.” He nodded, before beginning his trip to the bathroom. Now you were your chance. Glancing back down at your book, you walked over towards your seat once again. The boy's table was slowly approaching your vision, and you scanned his backpack, sitting idly in the seat next to his. Your eyes took a moment to dart towards the girl, who had turned back around to type away on her laptop. When the coast was clear, you set the book gently on the table where the boy sat and returned to your seat. As you got comfortable again, you pulled out a textbook and opened it to a random page. You didn’t know which one, your eyes were focused on the seat in front of you. It was time to play the waiting game.

It felt like forever, but you finally saw the boy stroll back to his seat, tapping the girl gently on the shoulder and offering his sincerest thanks with a radiant smile on his face. He took his seat and you found yourself a lot more nervous than you thought you would be. The boy looked down and his eyes fell onto the book on his table. An eyebrow arched in curiosity; he lifted the book in his hand.

“...What the-?” He mouthed to himself, looking around the immediate vicinity. You saw how confused he looked, and it made you giggle. As a pair of stunning eyes fell onto you, your giggling immediately stopped. An eyebrow arched in confusion, and you quickly hid your head behind your algebra textbook. Despite getting exactly what you wanted, the idea of him looking at you made you very nervous. You heard a ‘huh’ from his direction and poked your head back up to see him just as he set the book aside, scooping up his own book. Before he dove back into reading, his eyes raised up to meet you again. This time, you offered a shy wave. He chuckled; eyes turned up behind his dark-rimmed glasses. A hand raised up, and he returned your wave, before finally looking back down at his book.

The man seemed distracted now, his focus placed entirely on the world written before his eyes. It was perfect timing too, as your afternoon classes were coming up, and you needed to head over there. You collected your stuff into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you hopped off of the chair. With one more glance at the handsome man at the other table, you waited to see if he would lookup. When he did not, you simply headed down the hall and out the library doors.

As you strolled down the campus walkway, you kept thinking about your actions in the library. Was that guy amused? Was he creeped out? He was probably creeped out. It’s not everyday people communicate through books as if they were letters sent by pigeon mail.

“....I need to call Jimin.” You mumbled to yourself, your hand slipping into your jacket pocket. As it sunk deeper and deeper, eventually hitting the bottom of your pocket, your eyes widened. “What the-?” Immediately, you stopped in your tracks, shaking your hand in your pocket rapidly, your heart beating faster with every second that passed and you did not have your phone in your pocket. “Okay, uhm…” you pursed your lips together and try to think. “...FUCK, it’s probably in the library.” Without missing a beat, you spun on your heels and hurried back to the library as quick as your feet would carry you.

When you arrived back at the library, you quickly caught your breath at the door, calming yourself as you headed towards the table you sat at. The area was slightly less packed compared to when you left, but you still saw the boy, sitting in the same chair and reading the same book behind the same rimmed glasses. He flipped the pages of his book silently, and you hurried to your table. Your phone, thank God, was still on the table, undisturbed by anyone else. As you scooped it up, you noticed a book was resting right beside it. You lifted it up, reading the title.

The Girl With the Pretty Smile. The pastel colors decorating the book signaled that this was most definitely a romance book for younger readers, a freshman in college, or even the occasional non-campus attendee who wandered into the library with friends. It was childishly amusing, in a nostalgic kind of way. You looked up, scanning the area to see if you could determine how this book ended up here. You assumed someone had taken this seat after you left. However, much to your surprise, your eyes landed on the boy, whose eyes were finally raised from his book and in your direction. A slight blush tinted your cheeks when he offered you an amused smile. Though his eyes were soft, for some reason, you felt a burning in your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he smiled and the way he sat, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You had to glance back down at the book and study it for a moment, before looking back at the boy. Yet again, his attention was on his book. Your face went absolutely red, and you had to set the book down, hurrying out of the library before he dared look back up at you like that again.

—————

“I don’t know why I was dragged along to this.”

“Because, Jimin, I want you to see for yourself. He’s really cute.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jimin huffed. Ever since that afternoon in the library, you had seen that mysterious boy show up at the library more and more. He would sit in the same spot, putting you at a perfect view from behind your textbooks. While he was sitting in his spot, reading whatever book he had chosen as his written entertainment today, you would peruse the isles of books nearby, looking for ones with interesting or funny titles you could use to interact with him. At first, he didn’t seem to understand what you were trying to do. You waited for your moment to strike each time, and not knowing how long it would take, or if it would even happen, would leave you anxious, yet slightly excited at the same time. He would come back from wherever he would go, sit back down, and stare at the new book found right beside his current one. You would continue to eye him from behind your biology textbooks, frequently finding your eyes darting back down into the pages when his eyes would lift in your direction. Jimin watched you look around one of the isles, your eyes scanning the walls of various books. “Why don’t you just, oh I don’t know, talk to him?”

“Every time I walk past him to the books, I try, but I chicken out and walk right past him.”

“Why?”

“He’s just too handsome. I get intimidated.” You pouted as you heard Jimin snicker in amusement behind you.

“Has he ever responded?”

“He did the first time, but that’s all. Now he just kind of chuckles and goes on reading.”

“He probably wants you to talk to him in person,” Jimin said.

“Oooooh, what do you know? You don’t even know who he is. Just help me find a good book title.”

“I will not help you in your little hermit flirting game.” Jimin teased, pulling at the spine of a book at the end of the aisle. “I’ll be looking around. Go have fun.” You watched as Jimin made his way to a different aisle, leaving you alone to peruse. You embraced the new silence that surrounded you. It felt like forever that you were looking, but then, you heard a voice approaching the desks. Immediately, you turned your head, and two male figures entered the room. The male was entering, talking quietly to yet another incredibly handsome man with a white alpaca tee shirt and jeans. You made sure to keep yourself out of view as you scurried to the next aisle, watching as Jimin flipped through the pages of what seemed to be a romance novel.

“Jimin.” You gasped, making him lookup. “I see him. He just walked in.” Without letting your friend say anything, you took him by the wrist, leading him back towards the end of the aisle. “There.” You pointed. “The one with the glasses.” There was a moment of silence, and you looked over at Jimin, trying to gauge his reaction. Jimin sighed, looking at you. “Well?”

“Kim Namjoon?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow. “That’s Kim Namjoon, literally one of the smartest kids on campus.” You blinked, eyes falling back towards Namjoon, who was sitting across from his friend, both of them skimming through textbooks.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and the other guy is Kim Seokjin. His boyfriend.” Jimin’s eyes fell on you, watching as they went extraordinarily wide in surprise. He had to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh. “I’m kidding, they’re like best friends. They’re older than us by a few years, but they both do tutoring sessions for the younger students.”

“I had no idea.”

“Maybe because you don’t need tutoring. But Taehyung and I see them at our science tutoring every week.” Jimin explained. “He’s really nice. I’m sure if you go over to him and talk, he’ll be more than interested in starting a conversation.”

“No way, not with his friend there.” You huffed. Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling. “What book did you find?” you asked, yanking the text from his hands before he could even reply. Staring at the cover, you blinked. The covers held a myriad of beautiful blue tones, resembling that of the deep ocean. Across the top of the cover were the words Pretty Boy written in a white, wispy font. Your eyes immediately shot back up to Namjoon, who was scribbling his studies away. “I have to wait for my chance to strike.”

“What is he, prey?” Jimin asked. “Whatever, I’m going back to the table.” You watched Jimin put his hands in his pockets and head back towards your spot. As he approached Namjoon as Seokjin, he turned to them. “Hi, Hyungs.” He said softly. The boys looked up.

“Hey Jimin~.” Namjoon grinned. “How are you?”

“Fine. Studying~.” You watched the trio have a conversation for a few moments before Jimin nodded his head and continued heading towards your table. Before he did, however, he was sure to turn to you and grin, his eyebrows raised as if to say ‘See how easy it is?’ You couldn’t help but pout at your cocky friend as he walked back to the table.

Good for you being a social butterfly, Jimin. You thought to yourself. You continued waiting for your chance to head over, watching them. As you did, you watched Namjoon’s eyes raise up, staring directly in the area you were standing in. The minute his eyes fixated on your, you felt your cheeks go absolutely red hot, and you turned away, covering your face with the book. It was quiet in the library, so the chuckle that Namjoon emitted seemed a lot louder in your ears than it most likely was to anyone else. After a moment of collecting yourself, you heard the sound of the chair being pushed back against the floor. When you looked over your shoulder, Namjoon and Seokjin were standing up. Namjoon motioned his head towards a nearby isle of books, heading over his hands in his pockets as Seokjin followed suit, grinning in amusement. You could’ve sworn his eyes darted in your direction, but you were too nervous to be sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. As your eyes fell back towards the book, the title staring you right in the face, you knew this was your chance. Peeking around the corner, you could see faint glimpses of the boys a few isles down, scanning some books. Jimin was flipping through pages of his biology textbooks. So, you began walking back to your seat, biting your lip. As you passed Namjoon’s seat, you quickly set the book down on top of his opened algebra book, before picking up your pace and practically throwing yourself in your seat. As you settled, you looked up at Jimin, an amused grinning staring back at you. “What?”

“You’re funny.” He said. “You could’ve just talked to him.” Before you could respond, you heard footsteps heading back over. Glancing over, you saw Namjoon and Seokjin walking back to their seats, books in their hands. Though your neck was craned down to your book, your eyes were directed at Namjoon. As he pulled his seat back, a smile graced his lips. He lifted up the book in his hands and he looked over the cover, even showing it to Seokjin. Namjoon looked over to you, and you blushed. He lifted the book up slightly, making sure you knew he had it, and that he enjoyed it, before sitting back down, his back to you as he and Seokjin returned to their studying. “So looks like Pretty Boy over there might actually find it cute.”

“You didn’t think he would?” you asked.

“I would’ve found it creepy, honestly,” Jimin admitted. You huffed. “Whatever, just study.”

A little bit of time passed, all parties in the library focused on their studies before afternoon classes. Every so often, you would look at Namjoon, who was flipping from one book to another, studying as much as he could before it was time to go. You have finished up your biology studies and closed your book. Based on the time flashing on the lock screen on your phone, you had time to kill before you and Jimin needed to pack up and meet Taehyung for afternoon classes. Jimin looked like he was still taking some intense notes, so you decided you would go look for some more books. Maybe you would get some ideas for next time, or, maybe even find something to read in your free time. You walked in the opposite direction of the boys, into an aisle dedicated to sci-fi stories. You didn’t think you could find a book for Namjoon in here, but you weren’t really planning to at this point. Surprisingly enough, you forgot that these books you were passing to Namjoon was meant to be read for more than just their titles.

You looked around for what seemed like a little while, but unfortunately, found nothing that really sparked your interest. It was good to stretch your legs after all of your studying, so you wouldn’t immediately write these few minutes as a total loss. However, you knew it was time you would probably head back to your seat, afternoon classes crept up on you with every minute that passed by. As you headed towards your seat again, you still saw Jimin sitting in his seat, writing notes just as he was doing when you left a few minutes prior. However, as you approached the table, you immediately noticed something sitting on your textbooks that were not there when you had left. As you took your seat, you saw The Case of the Silent Beauty written on a book cover. It was a black book, with the face of a woman on it. The woman’s face was only shown from her nose to her chin, a piece of duct tape put over the face. On the tape, was the words Silent Beauty from the title, written in an eloquent red. You lifted the book up, examining the mysterious cover for a moment, before glancing at Jimin. He looked up at you.

“Don’t look at me.” He said, motioning to the table only a few feet away. You looked over and saw Namjoon’s back. He was still writing stuff down. However, the sound of Jimin’s voice must have alerted him, because he looked up and over his shoulder. He saw the book held in your hands, and he grinned. Jimin watched your ears turn an extra two shades of pink. You looked down at the book, flipping open to the first page. Namjoon chuckled, before turning back to his studies and leaving you to read.

Yeah, books are meant to be for reading.

---------------------------------------------------

Finals week, the most stressful time of any college student’s career. It was a time where all of a student’s professors decide to throw a handful of projects, chapter readings, assignments, and hell, even an unnecessary paper or two into the mix of constant due dates that came with preparing for the already stressful final exams. This was a time of the year where the library was filled to the brim with anxious students, constantly flipping through the pages of their textbooks as they tried to make sure they take in every piece of information they possibly can before they sit down for the final day. You were doing the exact same thing, sitting around a circular table with Taehyung and Jimin as the three of you doing whatever necessary to make sure everything was done and was done well before it was submitted. You had to admit, normally this was a time where you would stress, your time management skills skyrocketing to insanely amazing levels. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting next to one another, looking over notes and study guides they had prepared long before finals week began for a class that they shared together, while you were skimming over a mock test that Jimin had made for your upcoming human anatomy final. It was a simple quiz, involving labeling different parts of the human body. The systems, the bones, the functions, anything Jimin could collect from your months of classes were put into a mock test scribbled down on notebook paper. You were finishing the test up, doing your best not to use your notes for help, as they would be of no use to you the day of when you caught a vision. Namjoon was passing by, a stack of books in his hands as he searched the area for an available seat. Your eyes wandered over to him for a brief moment, and you smiled. Namjoon – or Pretty Boy as Jimin now referred to him as - and you had been playfully communicating through fun book titles a total of 6 days over a month and a half. There were times he wasn’t there when you were, and vice versa, so you took the time to search for titles and keep a note of them for future encounters. Each time you exchanged books, Namjoon would simply smile and turn his head back to his work, most likely because you were far too nervous to talk to him, and that nervousness was etched on your face as clearly as the answer to your mock quiz were in your textbook. However, knowing that he was here now made you happy, at peace in some sort of weird way. Despite this, however, you were unsure if you would be able to find the time to casually peruse for a book. Not only that but would Namjoon even leave his seat today? He wasn’t the smartest kid on campus for nothing, of course, he had to study constantly. Taehyung must have noticed your eyes wander because he tossed an eraser at your head.

“Ow.” You pouted.

“Focus. You don’t have time to be your shy little nerd self.” He said simply. You pouted, looking back down at your test questions. “Are you done?”

“Almost.” You mumbled. Setting the paper down, you continued to label and draw and circle the correct answers left on the back of the page. “Alright, I’m finished.” You passed the test over to Jimin, who looked up.

“Okay. I’ll grade it in a second.” He said.

“What else should I study?” You asked. “I’m only really worried about the anatomy final.”

“Then just study anatomy.” Taehyung said, not even looking up from his notes now, his pencil scribbling along with the paper. You nodded, looking down at your book as your friends continued to work beside you. You flipped through some pages, wrote down some terms, but soon enough, found yourself growing bored. Well, maybe bored wasn’t the word. More like…distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about Namjoon, only a few tables away and studying just as hard as you should have been. But you couldn’t. Damn him and his good looks, and intellectual appeal, it was throwing your intellect out of whack.

“I’m going to walk and read.” You said, lifting up your anatomy book. The boys lifted their heads as they watched you flip the book open to the bookmarked page. Chapter 13, the Reproductive System, and read as you headed towards the shelves of books. As you disappeared behind one of the isles, the boys turned to each other.

“She’s not going to study, is she?” Jimin asked.

“I doubt it,” Taehyung said. They simply shrugged, leaving you to your own devices as Jimin lifted up your anatomy quiz and began to grade it. You were walking around the isles, occasionally glancing between your book and the ones tempting you on the shelves. You were trying to stay focused, reading instead of book title hunting, however, you wanted to pass one off to Namjoon today. It had been about two weeks since you had seen him, most likely due to the increase in work both of you had due, and that time apart made you feel a bit lonely. Well, as lonely as you could feel towards someone you’ve had not a single word to, but still! As you reached the end of the book isle, you finally closed the anatomy book, marking your spot with your cute little bookmark that you had gotten at a school fair.

“I give up.” You said. As you turned your head, a sea of books took over your eyes. You set your anatomy book under your arm and began to look through the options. You looked around, eyeing the spines of books in hopes that a fun and interesting title would catch your eye. When finals were over and summer break began, you were unsure when you would be able to see Namjoon again before the new term started. Things would be different next semester, and you wanted to be sure that this book would be the best one yet because it made be the last. As you kept looking, Jimin’s voice entered the back of your mind.

Why don’t you just talk to him?

“He’s right. I should probably finally say something.” You hummed to yourself. “I’m being childish…” you hugged your anatomy book to your chest as you continued to look around. You knew you weren’t to social, at least not as social as Jimin or Taehyung, but you knew how to talk to people! So, what was so weird about talking to Namjoon? His looks? Well yeah, he’s really good looking. But as you saw through Jimin, Namjoon seemed incredibly approachable and kind, not hesitating at all to have a conversation with Jimin. There was a part of you that knew extremely well that you were being irrational in regards to speaking to Namjoon, but you couldn’t help it! You huffed, pulling out a few books from the shelves and looking them over. “This is unique…it’s cute. I don’t know anyone else who has flirted with a guy like this, it’s my thing, he must like it because he keeps giving me books back.” You looked over books and smiled a bit as you scanned them over. Finally, you found a book that you felt fit extremely well. It was a cute little short story called Coffee on a Tuesday, the cover a collection of soft yellows and oranges reminiscent of a sunrise. A table stood in view of the rising sun with a freshly brewed cup of coffee resting on it, allowing not only the characters inside, but the reader, to start the day off feeling refreshed and energized as if they had just drunk a cup of coffee. This was perfect, it would finally move you from short, choppy sentences that made little to no sense, to actually asking him out on a date. “Take that, Jimin.” You huffed to yourself, tucking the book away with your anatomy book as you headed back to the table to wait for your chance. As you headed back, you glanced towards Namjoon’s table. He wasn’t there. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, and you saw Namjoon making his way into one of the nearby isles, hands in his pockets as he looked around quietly. Now would most likely be your only chance! You walked past Namjoon’s table, your eyes constantly darting in his direction to make sure he didn’t look over, and you grabbed the book in your hands. Quickly, you set the book down on top of his textbooks before speed walking back to your table. When you arrived, you sighed in relief, watching Taehyung and Jimin give you a confused look. “I did it. I found a book with a good title. It’s almost like I asked him on a date.”

“Told you she didn’t read her book,” Taehyung said to Jimin, who nodded in agreement. Jimin glanced down at the book in your hands, and his eyebrow cocked in confusion.

“Hey…what do you have there?” he asked. Before you could respond, Jimin leaned forward and yanked the book from your hands. As he did, your eyes fell onto a sunset with a cup of coffee on a table. “…Coffee on a Tuesday, hm?” Jimin hummed, glancing up at you. “This is what you were studying?” You quickly yanked the book back and scanned it, your eyes widened.

“Then where’s my textbook?” you asked. Almost immediately, your head swiveled around to the anatomy textbook, sitting right where you accidentally slammed it above Namjoon’s textbooks. “Oh God, fuck.” You groaned, hearing your friends stifle their laughter at the mix-up. “I need to get it before-.” Just as you were about to get up, you saw Namjoon heading back to his table, a few books in his hands as he headed over. “…Too late. Guess it’s time to die.” You groaned, running a hand across your face. You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away. How would he react to a Human Anatomy book with a big noticeable bookmark leading to the human reproductive system react?

Namjoon immediately noticed the book, his head tilting his slight confusion. He lifted it up, flipping open to the page with the bookmark inside. That was exactly what you were dreading. As his eyes fell on the page in question, his eyes widened, and he had to stifle a laugh. You groaned, wanting to crawl into a hole and die when you saw him look in your direction. You immediately turned away, staring at your friends who were still flashing goofy grins.

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.” They said together. Just before you could get up and flee the country, you heard footsteps approach your table.

“…Are you trying to tell me something with this one?” A deep voice hummed playfully behind you. When you turned, Namjoon was standing with the page flipped open, pointing to the figures that depicted the male and female reproductive systems and their parts. Pretty Boy was here, in the flesh.

“N-no, it was an accident…” You choked out. “That’s my anatomy textbook.” Namjoon smiled, before simply passing it over to you. You took it and held it close to your chest. Not yet had you looked Namjoon in the eyes. You couldn’t.

“I figured. But it was funny.” He quickly pulled a chair up to the table and sat down, saying his hellos to Taehyung and Jimin. “I thought you suddenly got bold.”

“I never talk to you, what would make you think that?” you mumbled shyly. Namjoon shrugged.

“Nothing, in particular, I guess.” He said. “What was the book you wanted to give me?” He motioned to the one poking out from your tightly knitted arms. “Is that one it?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please forget it.” Namjoon glanced at the boys, who shrugged.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” He asked.

“It’s not… It’s not that…” you said softly. Namjoon nodded.

“Right. I look forward to seeing what you actually wanted to say when you’re ready. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin said as Namjoon stood up. “You delayed the lecture she’s about to get for almost failing her mock quiz.” He passed you back the exam, a big red 60 written on top. “She seems to have been distracted before.”

“Anatomy is my worst subject.”

“Sure it is…” Taehyung nodded.

“If you need help, I do a lot of tutoring in different subjects.” Namjoon offered. “Consider it a…trade, for the mix-up?” You finally glanced up at him and saw that he was offering you a wide smile. “It’ll help me study for my tests, so we all win.”

“I-.”

“She would love to,” Taehyung said quickly. You glanced over at him with wide eyes, Taehyung simply slipping your textbooks into your bag and passing it to you. “We’re studying other classes anyway, so go. Be free.” He grinned his little boxy smile, and you never realized you could hate it until right now. You have no idea what possessed you to do it, but you grabbed your bag and stood up, following Namjoon to his table. At least, you think you were. You were moving, but your heart was beating so loud in your ears you couldn’t hear your footsteps. As you sank down in the seat beside Namjoon, he took the textbook back as well as the mock exam.

“Let’s see.” He smiled over at you, before fixing his glasses and skimming over the contents of the test. You watched him silently for a moment, taking the opportunity to examine Namjoon up close. He was much more handsome from this distance than he ever could be from afar, his skin was smooth and his hair was laid in such a pretty way. You sighed softly as you watched him. “It looks like you know a lot of stuff, you just seem to be confused about some of the names of different things.” Namjoon flipped to the necessary pages in the book. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” You nodded, leaning forward slightly as he began to speak.

--------------------------------------

Finals week had passed, and you found yourself wandering the library for one last time before the semester came to an end. You found yourself doing this before every major break away from campus because you enjoyed the peacefulness of the library so much. The past month and a half had led to a handful of interesting interactions that disturbed your normally peaceful routine in ways you had not expected, however, you in no way minded those changes. You looked up and down the aisles, before turning to one and seeing a familiar face. Kim Namjoon, with his glasses perched upon his nose as always. He was glancing at a shelf just below eye level, causing him to lean forward just slightly. You hadn’t spoken to him since he tutored you for your anatomy test, which thankfully helped much more than you thought. You hadn’t even been looking for any new books. The one you had found during studying, you never ended up giving to him, the embarrassment from the mix up just totally pulling you out of that playfully flirty mood you had felt just moments before. However, maybe now was your chance. As you walked closer, you noticed Namjoon look over in your direction, and he smiled.

“Hey. Long time no see.” He said as you approached. “Looking at books?” You nodded, and he hummed. “Yeah, me too. I always get a bit sad when the library closes to the public so they can do summer classes.”

“I know. It makes me want to take summer classes.” You joked, and Namjoon laughed, which made your heart flutter. That was the first time you really ever heard it, and it was lovely. “I uhm…thanks for helping me with studying.”

“No problem. Did you pass?”

“Yes.”

“Good!” He grinned. “Glad I could help.” You nodded, stepping just slightly closer to him so you could see more books. “Looking for something in particular?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You said softly, your eyes raised up to higher shelves.

“So am I.”

“I thought I saw it here last time, but-.” Suddenly, you got on your tiptoes. “I think that’s it.”

“Oh? What a coincidence, same here.” Namjoon said. You lifted your arm to grab the book, however, a big hand reached in front of yours, grabbing the book you were going for. “Oh.” He said, looking at you as you lower your hand. “Was that the book you-?” When you nodded, he hummed, pulling it off the shelf and examining it for a moment. “It looks interesting. I thought I would read it.”

“Yeah, I agree.” You said softly. Namjoon suddenly passed you the book, and you took it into your hands. The beautifully warm colors and the coffee cup starred you in the face, as the oak-colored title stared back at you.

“I knew it was that book you were going to show me,” Namjoon said. “I had found it a few days before and I actually was planning to use it on you, so hopefully you would talk to me.” You glanced at him as Namjoon pulled his hand out of his pocket. “So, what do you say? Coffee?” You nodded your head, smiling.

“I’m free next Tuesday.”

~END~

Return to Masterlist / Return to RM

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demonwifey · 5 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader has a think for beetlejuice’s voice. Like a voice kink.

I struggled with it a little bit because I’ve barely written full on smut before so I hope you guys enjoy. I decided to do a different take and do a succubus reader instead of a human reader.

But still got through it and @paxenera actually got an ask like this as well so go check hers out too!💚💜🖤

Warnings: NSFW +18, succubus!reader

Word Count: 3,453

After a full 2 weeks in the human world Y/N was finally home. Back to the grim darkness that filled the sky. Back to the eerie sounds of wails and moans on the air. Back to a never ending sight of the dead walking around freely. The Netherworld. Home, sweet home.

****

And it wasn’t easy being one of the Netherworld’s most infamous succubi. Y/N took the position after having met an early death when she was only 27. She practically lived a boring life when so why not find something a little more exciting and fulfilling in her after life. That’s when her case worker assigned her to work at the hottest Netherworld brothel, Dante’s Inferno. After spending what seemed like 3 months, actually 2 years in human time, she worked her way up to a full fledged succubus.

Of course, being a succubus came with it’s ups and downs. The upside was that Y/N felt more alive than ever. She had sexual power over desperate men. They made her feel in control in every single way. But that was also the downside. Her victims were only in it for their pleasure. They wanted her to take control as they filled their fantasies of being dominated by a sexy seductress demoness. But sometimes she wanted…less. Maybe Y/N wanted someone else to take control. Maybe she wanted to give the power to someone else.And there was only one man that gave Y/N exactly what she wanted. And his name was Beetlejuice.

The demon man came into her life just a year after fully becoming a succubus. The two ran into each other at Dante’s Inferno. Y/N was back to visit her old brothel friends and Beetlejuice was there for a good time. He spotted Y/N as soon as he walked in the door and knew he had to talk to her. The other succubi warned her not to mess around with Beetlejuice but Y/N was way too intrigued. After a night of endless flirting, she pulled the demon man into what used to be her old room. And the two were hooked on each other since

The pair were like ‘friends with benefits’. But friends that had deep mutual underlying feelings for each other that they would never admit. Whenever Y/N was home she would invite Beetlejuice over. While sex was one of their main bonds, they still just enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N loved Beetlejuice’s sweet talk and the ability to make her laugh. Beetlejuice loved her dominant personality and the fact that she always listened to him talk about anything.

Although Y/N genuinely liked listening to Beetlejuice’s wild stories, she also had her own selfish reasons for being so engaged; she loved listening to man’s voice. Most people in the Netherworld thought of Beetlejuice’s voice as literal nails on a chalkboard. But whenever she heard his deep scratchy voice scream out “Babes!” when he walked in the door, it drove her wild. Don’t even get her started on when they have sex. Hearing Beetlejuice’s voice moan and grunt over her was like she’d been sent to heaven.

Y/N wasn’t actually sure if Beetlejuice actually knew about her secret fixation or not; spoiler alert, he did. And she always took note at how he’d get more vulgar when telling certain stories. His yelling and swearing louder at the peak of a story made Y/N more aroused than she’d like to tell. And, of course, he’d never complained when she stopped him mid-sentence to attack his lips in a fever-ish kiss.

****

Y/N walked out of her bathroom finally feeling refreshed from a steaming shower. Although she loved her succubus title, she hated the stench that would linger after spending a night with a human man. The smell of desperation and sex was perfect in the moment but she wanted it off of her once the high came down. Although many Netherworld occupants didn’t feel the need to follow basic hygiene since they were dead, Y/N did.

She sat down on her bed and pulled her long coily black hair into a low ponytail. After every feeding, the purple tips in Y/N’s hair would go back to their beaming tint. It symbolized that her demon needs were met. But yet again, her personal needs weren’t met.

While she was gone, Beetlejuice was also gone. Out trying to find unsuspecting humans to say his name three times. Another one of his far fetched plans that Y/N listened to but never took too seriously. And although both demons were in the human world, they never found time to see each other. Y/N was handling her own responsibilities so she never had time to stop and entertain the green haired demon.

As Y/N walked into her living room, she looked around for something to do. She was dressed in only her silk black robe and a pair of lace black panties with her breast remaining free. She plopped herself down on the couch and let her brain think. One of the many sources she had of entertainment was Beetlejuice. But he was gone so she had to find something else to keep her busy. Maybe she could just rest and rela-

*RIIIING*

Y/N rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. It was finally her day off and some random person had to interrupt that. Y/N got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Everything in the Netherworld was vintage and antique. Which made the 20 year old in her excited when she first moved in and saw an old landline phone hanging on the kitchen wall. This had better not be those dead football players again, she thought. Y/N grabbed the phone after the 4th ring.

“Hello~?” Y/N said in her now normal seductive tone. One of the things her mentors taught her was to always answer the phone like she was a sex operator. ‘It adds character’, they always said.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to answer their phone.” The all too familiar voice of Beetlejuice echoed through the phone. Y/N felt a faint shiver run down her spine. She was caught up in her own thoughts for a second before clearing her voice and speaking again.

“H-hey, Beetlejuice. Long time no see, or hear, I guess.” She stammered a bit. Dammit, she was supposed to be one of the fiercest succubi in all of the Netherworld. Yet here she was losing that whole persona over a demon who wears stripes for a living.

“And whose fault is that, babes? I’ve called you like 100 times and you’ve never answered.” Beetlejuice claimed with a mock snarky attitude. Y/N scoffed.

“Okay, I’ve been in the human world working. Not all of us get to be free ghosts that come and go as we please.” She shot back, playfulness all in her voice. She then leaned her body against the wall next to the phone.

“You were in the human world? Why didn’t you tell me, babycakes? I could’ve made arrangements to see you!” Beetlejuice practically screamed through the phone.

“I did tell you, Beetlejuice. You just have very selective hearing when your hands are on my ass.” Y/N explained and the phone grew silent for a moment.

“…As true as that may be, we are going to disregard that.” Y/N laughed at the demon’s comment. That’s when he proceeded to tell Y/N about the new couple he was watching, the Maitlands. An average, middle class, white suburban couple. Apparently it was almost their time to die and Beetlejuice was going to use them to haunt their house. While listening to Beetlejuice mouth off about the couple, she moved back into the living room. Sitting herself back on the house while twirling the phone’s spiral cord between her fingers.

“Is that why you called, BJ? To tell me your new master plan? And how are you calling me from their anyway?”

“Oh, the Maitlands have an old rotary phone in their attic. Apparently the husband, Adam, likes to collect antiques. And I called cuz’ I wanted to check on you, duh. Gotta make sure my babes is okay.” Beetlejuice attempted to mumble the last part but the demoness still heard him. Pulling her finger out of the phone cord, Y/N placed her hand over her heart.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Mr. ‘Ghost with the Most’ does have a beating heart after all.” She mocked. This time Beetlejuice scoffed.

“Don’t go spreading it around, kitten. It only beats for you.” Y/N would’ve dived more into that last part had she not been too distracted by the pet name he used. Hearing his scratchy voice call her ‘kitten’ aroused her more than she’d like to admit. She squirmed in her spot on the couch, rubbing her exposed thighs together.

“Mmm, Beej you know how much I love it when you call me kitten~” Y/N purred out. She began moving the hand on her chest down the front of her body. His gritty voice mixed with the silk of her robe against her body was making her more and more aroused by the second.

“Getting a little worked up, are we, babycakes? You missed me that much?” Y/N could almost hear him smirk though the phone.

“Don’t get cocky, Beej. You already know which parts of me missed you.” Y/N’s hand grazed its way down to her thigh, not quite ready to touch herself completely.

“Hmm, let me guess. That pretty little pussy already wet for me?” And that was it. As his gruff tone echoed through Y/N’s phone, it was just enough to make her go further. She undid the band that closed the robe around her before pushing the silk fabric away and slipping her hand into her lace panties. Y/N slowly grazed her middle finger over the tip of her clit. Chills covered her body as she felt her pussy entirely soaked. She was too wrapped up in her own world to realize that she didn’t even answer Beetlejuice. And he didn’t like that one bit.

“I asked you a question, babes.” He practically growled through the phone. This caused Y/N’s succubus senses to heighten as her body was beginning to be overtaken by pleasure. Every instance of arousal she’d feel would be boosted by ten.

“Aaah~ Yes, baby. It’s so wet for you, Beej. Only you.” Y/N moaned as she began to circle her finger around the sensitive skin.

“God, kitten. You’ve got my dick rock hard right now.” Beetlejuice groaned out. The huskiness in his voice made her get even more wet, if that was even possible. And Y/N wasn’t oblivious. She knew Beetlejuice was touching himself as well. And, God, if that didn’t turn her just as much.

“Ahh, oh Beej~ I need you here. Please, I need you right now.” Y/N begged as the room was filled with nothing but her moans and sighs. She was never ashamed of begging for Beetlejuice, especially when she knew that’s what he wanted. His groans got longer and lower with each word she sighed out.

“Oh, babycakes, you trust and believe I’d be there right now if I could.” Beetlejuice moaned out. He wanted her, of course. He wanted to feel every inch of Y/N with his own hands. But right now, this is as close as he could get and he was going to make it worth her while. “Your fingers are in you, aren’t they?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling more pleasure rise to her pussy as she went to slip her index and middle fingers into her wet opening, pumping them in and out slowly. “Mmm, yes. Ah, Beej, baby. And I’m so close.”

“Good. Now stop.” Beetlejuice commanded. Y/N’s eyes shot back open. He couldn’t be serious. Not when Y/N was getting so close to her desperate orgasm. One she’d been rightfully needing after two weeks.

“No, Beej, please. I’m so clo-” Y/N whined and protested but continued to rub herself. Beetlejuice knew this and wasn’t having any of it. When he told Y/N to do something, he meant it.

“I said stop, kitten. I wasn’t asking. ” His voice then got seriously stern, making Y/N feel all too timid. The man was how far away but she still felt the need to follow his commands. Although she let out a quiet whine, she moved her fingers away. The lack of contact made her upset but she still did as told. Beetlejuice knew Y/N all too well and he knew when she’d follow his demands.

“That’s a good girl. Now, stick your fingers in that pretty mouth of yours.” The green haired demon spoke. Y/N couldn’t do anything but oblige. She slowly moved her hand from her throbbing pussy upwards. She lifted her fingers to her lips and placed them slowly into her mouth. Y/N let out a long, drawn out, breathily moan as she tasted herself. Beetlejuice’s groan mirrored hers.

“Mm, fuck yeah, babes. You taste yourself? You taste how desperate you are for this dick?” Y/N continued to moan at his words as she moved her fingers around in her mouth. “Get your fingers all wet for me, kitten.”

Demoness just followed suit. She moved her tongue along her fingers to wet them excessively. Y/N let her imagination wander, thinking of them as Beeteljuice’s fingers. Thinking of how he would wet his fingers with her mouth and then slide them smoothly into her aching pussy, while whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Mmmph, Beetlejuice~” Y/N mumbled behind her fingers. She was getting restless. Fantasies could only take her so far before she wanted the real thing again.

On the other end of the phone, Beetlejuice was getting close to finishing himself. He stood in the Maitland’s attic, phone in one hand and leaking dick in the other. He stroked himself roughly, wishing it was Y/N’s mouth around his hardened erection instead. Taking a guess at how she looked in that moment made the man helpless. She was probably sprawled out on whatever surface with her legs propped open widely as an open invitation for him. He listened to her muffled moans through the phone’s receiver intently. God, the people he’d kill to see Y/N in such a helpless position again. Stuck in his own pleasure, Beetlejuice decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, babes. Are they nice and wet now?” Beetlejuice asked, ready to give Y/N everything she needed.

Y/N pulled the fingers from her mouth and a small trail of saliva followed behind them. God, she thought, this was about to be too great. “Yes, baby.” She sighed out. The groan Beetlejuice let out was almost enough to make her come right at that moment.

“Mmm, perfect. Now put them inside you, kitten.” The demon man spoke though his own moans.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. Her body was hot and aching from her paused orgasm. She quickly moved her hand back into her panties before pushing them into her throbbing pussy entirely. Y/N practically screamed out at the missed contact. Beetlejuice growled louder at her scream and that only made it worse for her. She got back into the previous motion of fingering herself, this time more feverishly and without a slow pace. As she curled her finger against her g-spot as she spoke again.

“Beej, please. I want to come. Please let me come, baby. Oh god, I wanna come just for you, baby.” Y/N begged without hesitation. Her voice was getting higher as she was right on the edge of her orgasm.

“Come for me, kitten. Make that pretty pussy come for me.” Beetlejuice growled through his husky voice one last time as he was right on the edge with her.

Y/N’s moan could’ve reached all of the Netherworld as she finally got the release she so desperately craved. She arched her back against the couch as her pussy clenched and spasmed against her fingers several times. She grinded her hips up and down on her fingers as she rode out the sensation to its end. Beetlejuice wasn’t far behind as he pumped his dick just a few more times before his cum spilled all on the floor in front of him. Even though neither beings needed to breathe, the both gasped and panted like the wind had been knocked out of them. The only thing heard through the phone were harsh breaths back and forth. Finally, Beetlejuice was the first to speak.

“Hot damn, babes. We have got to do that more often.” Beetlejuice sighed out heavily. Y/N sighed along with him in agreement. Her body started to relax as she came down from her high.

“Mmm, believe or not Beetlejuice, I’d actually prefer the real thing.” She spoke while still rubbing below her. On the other end, Beetlejuice tucked himself back into his pants. Y/N also made an effort to get herself together. She removed her hand from her panties before pulling some on the robe back over her. Y/N didn’t even realize how tightly she was gripping the phone in her hand. She loosened her tight hold on the phone and then heard Beetlejuice chuckle on the other end at her comment.

“You and me both, kitten.” Y/N simply smiled at the man’s voice as Beetlejuice grinned on the other end.

“Honestly, you should just send one of your clones next time. That might make things a little easier.” Y/N joked. That’s when Beetlejuice let out a loud cackle and Y/N giggled with him. “No chance, Y/N. As if I’d let the boys enjoy you without me there.” He joked back. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. She finally fixed her position on the couch back to how she laid before.

“Don’t you think that’s a little selfish, Beej?” She asked while grinning, already knowing what his answer would be.

“I can be selfish all I want, babes. It’s part of my character.” Beetlejuice said matter of factly and it was Y/N’s turn to let out a loud laugh. Once she stopped the line grew silent between the two for a moment. Y/N turned on her side, clutching the phone closer to her ear.

“Beej, how long are you gonna be gone for? I really do miss you.” The demoness spoke fondly. Again, the fiercest succubus in the Netherworld, but she would only let her shy and timid side show for Beetlejuice. Once the demon man heard those words, his dead heart ached longingly.

“Oh, babycakes. I don’t really know. But I promise, as soon as I’m done with these dopes here, you’ll be the first person I come to see.” He reassured sweetly. Y/N felt a small blush creep its way to her cheeks.

“You promise?” She asked flirtatiously. Beetlejuice let a wide smirk fill up his face.

“Yeah, kitten, I promise.” He spoke lowly and Y/N felt like she was melting. Before Y/N could say anything else, “Well, I gotta run, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed with disappointment. “Alright, have fun watching the Maitlands.” She said as she sat up on the couch.

“I’ll do what I can, babycakes.” The man spoke.

“Bye, Beej.” Y/N stopped but she wanted to say more. Yeah, she wanted to talk more but she wanted to add something to her goodbye. Something long lasting. Something like an ‘I love you’. But she didn’t.

She ended with, “You’d better keep your promise.” Before she heard Beetlejuice laugh one last time.

“I will, I’ll see you sooner than later, kitten. Bye.” And with that, the dial tone rang through her phone receiver.

Y/N sighed and let her body hang loose on the couch. Her hand fell to the side off the couch as the phone hung loosely in her finger. Y/N placed the back of her other hand on top of her forehead before getting lost in thought. She had it bad for Beetlejuice. And one day she was going to have to admit her feelings. Maybe when he came to see her after he was done with the Maitlands. She’d come straight and say ‘I love you, Beetlejuice’. One day she would have the courage to let the words out. Even though the demon man was already gone, all she could say was,

“Sooner than later, Beej.”

Thanks for reading💜🖤💚

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice requests #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #succubus!reader #anon asks

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booksbookandmorebooks · 5 years ago

Text

Joe’s New Neighbour Theories.

Hello lovelies, i’m back again with, shock horror another ‘YOU’ inspired post because quite honestly I haven’t been able to stop thinking this show since i finished it a few weeks back. So today i’m here to bring you a quick list of who i believe could be Joe’s new neighbour, spoiler alert, the one that we are introduced to at the end of season two. I have also included my own personal theory below, just for my own spin on things.

If any of your views differ please let me know below!

Beck.

Now when looking online I found this to be a big fan favourite but sadly that is just what I think this theory is, a fan favourite. While I do follow the whole eastenders death (you never really accept anyone's really dead until you see a body and can identify it yourself. Anyone that watches it will remember how many times Dirty den came back to life, lord give me strength) I just don’t think that this would be logical or even a good idea from show runners, beck is a part of Joe’s past, of which has helped form him into the unhinged murder we know today, Beck was needed to help kick start his decline from sanity in season one and to establish the kind of person he is to force him to face her would be completely pointless at this stage as we can already see he is haunted by her throughout season 2, there would be no shock value to their interaction not to mention that we have also seen another past girlfriend come back from the dead very recently and would be just a cheap story telling tactic in my opinion.

Dr. Nicky's wife.

Now this is a theory that really peaked my interest. While we can assume through Dr. Nickys conversation with forty at the prison, his altercation and affair with Beck in season one wouldn’t of been the first time he had been unfaithful to his wife and from his reaction when talking about it, seeing his self hatred and disgust we can rather safely assume his wife was most probably aware of these dealing and has continued to take him back due to her strong feelings for him, her strong sense of denial and family,the pressure to keep the family together trope. But I think it would be such an interesting twist if regardless of all this his wife still blames Joe for ruining her perfect family image and is driven mad by her need for revenge. Which lets be honest, would not be a hard task as joe has never seen her and would be completely unaware of her appearance making him a very easy target for her mad plan. Especially if she is aware of Joes insatiable need to be loved and accepted thus making it very easy for an attractive woman to manipulate him.

Forty’s friend or family member.

We all remember the very intense scene where forty begins to connect the dots in regards to who Joe really is and his tarnished dark past, but due to everything we know about forty's loud personality his habit of majorly over sharing and his insane need for attention, I don’t think it would be completely ridiculous to assume he had most likely shared his findings with a friend or family member before confronting Joe. so when he turns up dead and is pinned for all of Joe’s crimes it wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out what happened especially with this persons previous ‘dirt’ on Joe.

Forty's mother.

This is one of my own theories i thought would be an interesting take on the shows plot.

I’m not sure if anyone else picked up on the very strange vibes coming from loves mother at the end where her and love are stood together on the door step waving at Joe, yes I am fully aware she has just lost her child BUT maybe, just maybe, due to their uncomfortably close relationship forty could of shared these findings with his mother and in light of fortys death could of inspired her to create this very long and malicious trap set for joe, lulling him into a false sense of security to take him down once and for all, the perfect revenge for her child's death. When we look at loves past and unhinged view of justice it wouldn't be that much of a stretch. Whats that saying again...

‘’the apple doesn't fall far from the tree’’

Joe’s mother.

Another widely accepted theory I saw cropping up over and over again was that this neighbour could be Joe’s mother. Which is another theory not completely out of the question. It has been set up very cleverly by the shows creators if this is the case, we have been introduced to her numerous times through a variety of flashbacks and throw away comments from Joe. It wouldn’t be a stretch to consider that while beginning to obsess over his mother and his child hood in the last season he has managed to track her down (as we never saw an official ending or death to his mothers story) manipulate his way into her town and community to fuel this new sick kind of obsession with how to worm his way back into her life. Although I feel like a mother, once faced with her estranged child would feel some sort of connection even on a very small scale, a familiar feeling or even just a sense he is more than a random stranger. Who knows, if she has a new life, husband and family we might see Joe’s temper stem from a different catalyst and be fuelled by his anger at being replaced and forgotten by his mother.

My personal theory:

My own theory is based around the mother idea but I believe that it wont be his real mother, now bare with me while I explain.

Throughout the whole of season 2 we begin to see Joe's already unhinged mind begin to unravel further, he is being haunted by the ghosts of his past, we see his methodical plans when encountering victims disappear as he seems frantic rather than the calm collected Joe we know, we see him break down in needle therapy with one of loves friends and begin to weep uncontrollably while repeating very telling and oddly open mantras to himself and so many other very out of character actions and reactions, all of this I believe is to help set up the biggest theme in season 3. The undoing of Joe.

I think we will see him begin to obsess over a woman who will most probably share very basic similarities with his mother (as any middle ages woman in the suburbs would) yet when its revealed she will be a complete stranger to Joe. we will see him project the feelings of betrayal hurt and abandonment on to this poor unsuspecting woman, and maybe begin this odd Norman Bates style fantasy and be driven not by the need to romance or sustain a relationship with this woman, but to force himself into her life, seeking acceptance. Although it is Joe, so nothings really off limits with this guy lets be honest.

We even see Joe and a friend having a conversation about marrying their own mothers in season 2 i mean come on! Talk about blatant mommy issues, wow.

But there we go a little collection of theories about who the next victim will be in season 3! I hope you enjoyed this post and ill see you next time!

#Joe Goldberg #Will Bettleheim #penn badgley #YOU #Netflix #younetflix #YOU theories #YOU netflix #YOUS2 #YOU season 2 #YOUseason2

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lyricfulloflight · 5 years ago

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Cherik Bodyguard AU

I have no idea what this fic will be title, but I wanted to share the prologue because...because I’ve been working on the start of three different cherik fics and I just wanted to share at least one of them.

This is a modern, AU, non-powered fic. Erik is a former military man turned bodyguard, Charles is an actor. This is the prologue to the main fic.

Let me know what you think!

Story below the cut.

Prologue

It took Erik less than five minutes to decide he hated Los Angeles. More specifically he hated rich, entitled, juvenile model/actresses who hosted parties in the Hollywood Hills of Los Angeles in the middle of the summer when Erik had to stand outside in 100 degree heat in a suit. This particular rich, entitled model/actress probably hated him right back, which was fine with Erik.

He had arrived at the sprawling one story, mid-century modern house at the time assigned to him by the Frost Protection Agency: 1pm. The host of the party, one Raven Darkholme, had answered the door with nothing more than skimpy lingerie and a scowl. Erik had, according to her, woken her up. Since she was supposed to be hosting a party that started at 2pm, Erik figured he’d done her a favour.

After muttering a completely insincere ‘Sorry’, Erik brushed passed the half-asleep young woman and started a perimeter check of the property.

It was another forty five minutes before his colleagues showed up.

“You’re late.” Erik said when they entered the backyard.

“Good morning to you too, you grumpy German asshole.” Alex Summers replied with a smirk.

“It’s almost fourteen hundred hours.” Erik answered flatly. “The party is supposed to start in fifteen minutes.”

“This is Hollywood, Lenhsherr. No one is going to be here on time, they’ll be at least an hour or two late. That’s how things work around here.” Alex explained. “You can relax – if that’s even possible for you.”

Erik stared at Alex in silence for a minute and then went back to scanning the completely inadequate fencing around the backyard.

“Have you met my brother, Scott?” Alex’s voice interrupted.

“No.”

“This is where you turn around and say hello, Lehnsherr. They do teach basic social skills in Germany, right?”

Erik scowled and turned around to face the brothers.

“Hello.” He ground out, extending his hand toward the unfamiliar brother who had darker hair and sunglasses. “Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Scott Summers. Nice to meet you Erik.” Scott replied with a tense smile. “Haven’t been in California long have you?”

“No.”

And given the ridiculousness of this day so far, he didn’t plan to stay long either. The basic concept of schedules and timeliness was something Erik was not willing to live without. He’d only been with the agency for a couple weeks, but fortunately they had offices in several large American cities and even a few in Europe. Erik had been looking to get as far away from his former life as possible and California had seemed like a worthy prospect for escape. Clearly it was not. Luckily he remembered that Ms. Frost had mentioned during his interview they were also looking for new bodyguards in Dallas and New York. Surely one of those cities had to be better than this.

“The inadequate fencing appears to be the most likely point of entry.” He stated.

“Have you ever been to one of these parties man?” Alex asked.

“I’m not at the party, I’m providing security for the party.” Erik replied stonily.

“Listen, not that you shouldn’t check the perimeter and do all the regular security ‘stuff’” Alex said sarcastically, making making quotes as he spoke, “but seriously, these parties, they hired us cause they like how it looks. Tall, strong guys in suits standing around looking dangerous, we’re like...arm candy or something. You’ll probably spend more time trying to get drunk party goers to leave you alone than you will chasing away threats. They like the paps, man. They want their pictures taken.”

“That’s not what the contract said.”

“Screw what the contract said. A bunch of young almost celebrities who are trading on their good looks and charm? They want their pictures splashed across magazines and all over the internet. It’ll help them get their next job.”

“I hate this place.” Erik muttered, but not quietly enough not to be overheard.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem like your scene.” Scott nodded. “You should ask Emma if they have openings in Washington or New York. More politicians and businessmen on contract out there. Might be a bit more your speed.”

Erik grunted in acknowledgement, clearly Scott was the smarter of the two Summer’s brothers.

The next hour or two passed without issue. As Alex had predicted, the first guest arrived at the late and complete imprecise time of 3:17pm. As guests began to trickle in, wearing odd and unusual clothes, Erik had a sinking feeling. When the hostess, dressed in a green and blue flowy gown that somehow managed to have plenty of fabric and yet cover nothing but the essential bits strutted out to welcome the guests to the party, his fears were confirmed.

“Welcome to my 21st birthday, costume pool party bitches! Let’s all get plastered!”

Erik winced at the high pitched announcement and the roar of cheers that followed it. Wonderful. A costume party full of twenty-somethings who wanted to get shit faced and also swim in a pool. Genius idea.

The following hours were some of the worst of his life, which was saying something as Erik’s life had never been a something to brag about. He was accosted by no less than a dozen bikini clad girls (he couldn’t call them women since they all looked about fifteen and he was tempted to ask them when their parents were coming to pick them up), had a woman dressed as Cher pinch his ass, and was propositioned by two men, one dressed as a sailor and the other wearing both too much leather and yet not enough clothing in general.

Erik hated this job. He hated California, with its hot, sticky weather. Most of all he hated these people. People with nothing in their heads and botox in their faces (even though no one looked a day over thirty) and silicone in their chests. People who thought nothing of invading the personal space of someone who was working, and clearly not attending the party.

At this moment he particularly hated the young man dressed as Tom Cruise from Risky Business, wearing nothing but a button down shirt, sunglasses, tube socks and white briefs, who was currently serenading everyone with a truly terrible rendition of ‘Copacabana’. Firstly, Erik thought, the man obviously should have been singing ‘Old Time Rock and Roll’, given his costume. Secondly, the man might have been better off singing when he was less drunk. Erik could only hope his voice would have been better and more in tune if he wasn’t quite so sloshed. And thirdly, it should have been illegal for someone’s ass to look that good in plain white briefs. Plain white briefs were not sexy, they were practical and unassuming. But these briefs, with that ass, they assumed a lot, including far too much of Erik’s attention. Erik found himself thinking quite a bit about how likely it was that someone would push the young man into the pool. Erik tried to justify his thoughts as concern, concern that the young man, being more than a little drunk might be at risk of drowning if he was unexpectedly pushed into the pool. Obviously his thoughts had nothing to do with how transparent his entire outfit would be once he emerged from the pool, certainly not. Erik was a professional and professionals did not think about random party guests in that way.

No one pushed the man into the pool.

For while, Erik lost sight of the man and was able to give the full force of his concentration to patrolling the perimeter of the yard and looking for unwanted, uninvited intruders. Thank goodness he was looking, because within half and hour of starting his route, he found one nosy paparazzo hiding behind the bushes, gleefully snapping away. His line of sight the perfect angle to get shots into the flimsy tent where guests were changing into swimming attire. ‘What a horrible excuse for a human being’ Erik though vaguely before kicking the man’s camera out of his hands and hauling his upwards by the scruff of his shirt.

“Hey man! Lay off! I was just doing my job!” The man scrambled frantically for his camera as Erik dragged him along.

“Your job is to take pictures of unsuspecting women taking their clothes off?” He bit out through clenched teeth.

“Hey, they’re asking for it man! They want to be famous!” He man whined as Erik pushed him toward a mostly discrete side exit.

“I’m quite certain they were not asking for it.” A crisp cultured voice interrupted before Erik could punch the man in the nose. “There’s no need for violence, my friend.” The voice spoke again and Erik felt a hand touch his arm, causing him to frown, but relax his arm back down to his side.

Erik turned to find himself face to face with the Tom Cruise costumed man, who sounded considerably less drunk than Erik would have thought based on his earlier behaviour.

“Your film, please.” The young man said, holding a hand out toward the paparazzo Erik had caught.

“It’s all digital man.” The man replied smugly.

Erik grabbed the offending camera out of the man’s hands and passed it over to Tom Cruise, or whoever he was.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” Tom (as Erik had decided to think of him for lack of a better option) smiled a brilliant smile up at Erik and happily took the camera.

“Digital they may be,” Tom said, deleting pictures and removing the memory card, “but they are now gone. If I ever see you back on my sister’s property again, I will call the police and have you charged for trespassing.” He turned back to Erik, his voice now much lighter, friendlier even. “If you would be so kind as to escort this man off the property Mr. …?”

“Lehnsherr. Mr. Lehnsherr.” Erik managed to answer.

“Mr. Lehnsherr. I would be most grateful to never see him again.”

“My pleasure.” Erik smiled, lifting the offensive man high enough that his feet didn’t touch the ground, he started forward moving quickly to haul the man by the house and down the driveway, depositing him on the road outside the front gate.

Erik returned to the party and somehow made it through the last couple of hours of debauchery. No other intruders were spotted. Guests continued to drink and a great many people were pushed into the pool. ‘Tom’ was no where in sight, however.

Erik took to smiling his biggest, most aggressively toothy grin at everyone who came near him, which effectively scared everyone away from his general vicinity.

“Jesus, that’s terrifying.” Alex commented after a pair of young women had turned and run away from Erik’s latest smile. “You should never smile, man. I’ve gotten six phone numbers from these chicks – stop scaring them away. If you don’t want the phone numbers, I’ll take them.”

Erik scowled, disgusted at Alex’s complete lack of professionalism. Of course he was scaring them away. He didn’t want their phone numbers. The only thing he would admit to wanting, was a name (okay, he likely would have taken a phone number too). Unfortunately, as the party died down and guests stumbled home, Erik didn’t catch sight of ‘Tom’ once.

The next day he was back at Frost Protection Agency headquarters asking for a transfer. Within the week he was flying to New York. He had no regrets, he and California were clearly not meant for each other. ‘Tom’ whoever he was would remain a mystery. Which was fine by Erik. Mystery Tom was intriguing: a man with some principles, a horrible singing voice, and a fantastic ass. ‘Tom’ is real life would no doubt have been a disappointment, as people almost always were.

So Erik did what he did best: he compartmentalized and pushed ‘Tom’ into a nice little box and stored him away in the recesses of his mind. Now, was the time for New York. He sat on the plane, in a cramped economy seat and pulled out the file on his next assignment.

#lyric writes #cherik bodyguard au #cherik fic #just a taste #more to come...#eventually

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vicunaburger · 5 years ago

Text

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 2/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,679 Warnings: M for Language

Notes: Gettin’ spooky up in here.

In Which Odd Happenings Occur

It took several hours of the women to fully unpack the truck and start to settle in their respective space in the house. Lydia had given Holidae the guest room next to her own bedroom on the second floor, which happened to be nearest the steps to the attic. A situation that was not Lydia's original intention, but Delia had commandeered the other bedroom to store her art pieces while she and Charles were away. Holidae wasn't the sort of person go to poking around by herself, so there wasn't a danger of her discovering the secrets lurking around the home. However, there was a zero percent chance that the resident ghost would extend the same courtesy to her friend's privacy.

The proximity of the new breather to his humble abode did not escape Beetlejuice's attention. A nagging little thought in the back of his mind warned him that this might some sort of test set up by Lydia to see how well-behaved he could be with such an opportunity.

Fuck that, he thought, not as though she could do much in retaliation.

The specter watched the girls throughout the move-in process, hovering just out of sight to not alert Lydia to his presence. One glance from her and there was good chance he would be sent back to cool off in the Neitherworld before you could say sandworm.

No, he had to stay inconspicuous, which was a struggle for the extroverted bioexorcist truth be told. He followed Holidae up the stairs to her room, picking occasionally at her sweater to make her pause and glance around to look for the stray nail or some other object she might have caught it on. At one point, her gaze had landed right on his face, her dull-green eyes staring right into his molten gold.

It made him pause, thinking that he had pushed her a little too far and the jig was up on his playtime. After a few moments, she continued her trek up the stairs, heading into her bedroom. Beetlejuice was safe, for now. The benefit to such a position was that it allowed him a very intimate look at the new house guest without her freaking out.

She was pale as Lyds; and between the smudged eye makeup and dark circles she gave the impression she hadn't slept in a good several years. Insomniacs were the best when it came to frightening breathers. Fish in a barrel. Not that he wouldn't have appreciated a harder challenge, but hey, everyone likes to have a little break now and again.

Holidae's lips were full - matching her overall face shape - but noticeably bitten. Nerves? Bad habit? Things that he definitely kept tabs on to create the perfect storm of scares for the unsuspecting breather? Yes.

Beetlejuice busied himself with being nosy while Holidae haphazardly unpacked her suitcases, moving the clothes into a nearby dresser under the window. He frowned at the lack of frilly lingerie and other scandalous things one might hide away out of embarrassment. Nothing obscene to gossip with Lydia about, how disappointing.

The only thing worth noting were the copious number of notebooks and accounting ledgers.

What was she, a nerd?

While she was distracted with the dresser, he caused one of the ledgers to "accidentally" flutter open to a random page. They were filled with detailed lists and monetary amounts; a few random acronyms he couldn't identify in the side margins. After a moment, it dawned on him that the lists were titles of Lydia's photographs and art pieces.

"Oh God/Satan, don't tell me she's an accountant." The ghost ran a hand through his hair, the green fading into a more solemn blue tone.

Lydia had told him about the growing number of followers who frequented her art shows in the human world; to which he would always offer himself up as the next model for her studies. For some reason she always turned down his offer, stating that it would be difficult to photograph a ghost that wouldn't appear on film.

Thoroughly dejected after yet another rejected, Beetlejuice decided to be a brat and take a chunk of her photographs down into the Neitherworld with him. Turns out, human paraphernalia was a hot ticket item to all the ghouls and demons down there, and he was able to make a quick'n'dirty profit off Lydia's work. Sure, he kept the profits for himself, since he was the one who had the brilliant idea in the first place.

It was only fair.

Holidae must do the same thing for Lydia topside, he surmised, although by the shabby state of her wardrobe and sparse furniture... it wasn't a profitable venture for her. Did she not know that sellers get at least a 75% cut of all deals? What do they teach breathers up here anyway?

"Gonna have to teach you the fine art of the deal, girly," Beetlejuice muttered, floating over to drape himself over the dresser. "Be happy to lend you my expertise on a whole bunch of topics."

The woman paused in folding her clothes into the dresser, looking around the room with a sour expression. She could have sworn she heard someone talking, but Lydia had gone back downstairs not too long ago. A chill up her spine made her shiver; not having noticed the temperature of the room dropping sharply.

The ghost above her grinned from ear to ear, "C'mon, I know you're not scared already, are you? I haven't even done anything. So sensitive, huh?"

Holidae hugged the sweater she had been folding against her chest tightly, her mouth curving into a pout. A faint buzzing sound... like someone mumbling constantly from several rooms away.

"It's an old house, probably fried wiring buzzing." Holidae reasoned with herself, continuing her task and closing the dresser drawer. "Maybe an animal got into the walls at some point; it's an old house, probably needs new insulation. ...or some sort of eldritch horror beckoning me into the deep abyss through some portal in my closet."

Beetlejuice snorted with a cackle, "You have no idea how accurate you are, baby doll. Oh boy, I have got to get us better acquainted."

"Lydia?" Holidae stood up straight, rubbing her arms to generate some heat. "Are you trying to talk to me?"

Soft footfalls were heard coming up the staircase, and soon Lydia's head popped into view from the doorway. She opened her mouth to reply, but what came out was a choked gasp.

Lydia could clearly see Beetlejuice balanced on the dresser beside Holidae, his expression like a snake toying with a mouse. When he noticed his bed friend staring at him, he waved enthusiastically, his hair turning a bright, luminescent green. Her jaw worked up and down like a gaping fish, her brain furiously scrambling to process the scene.

"Babes! Aren't you going to introduce me to your breather buddy?" He vanished and then reappeared on Holidae's bed, lounging like a great cat. "Teach her the magic words and we'll have the best housewarming party."

Holidae noticed Lydia's distressed expression, "Lyddy! What happened?"

"Nothing!" The tone was so high pitched it could cut glass, "You... startled me and I ran up here. I thought you like, fell or something."

Her eyes kept nervously flicking over to the bed, trying to ignore the ghost rolled around on the sheets like a child.

"Laaaaaaaame. Better come up with something quick before she gets suspicious." Beetlejuice taunted her.

"I meant the house makes things sound weird, so I rushed up," Lydia placed a hand on her hip, "Haunted and all that."

Holidae's eyebrows furrowed, "Right. So, the buzzing noise is a portal to another dimension, yeah? Just want to make sure none of my clothes get stretched out by demons trying them on."

Lydia laughed, "Exactly. Demons aren't exactly known for being petite."

"I resemble that remark." Beetlejuice hissed, sitting up on the bed and smoothing out his striped suit.

"Good to know." Holidae cleared her throat, "Oh, hey, mind if I snag some extra blankets? You weren't kidding about the drafts in here."

"Third door to the left," Lydia gestured out into the hallway, moving aside as the other woman moved past her.

As soon as they were alone, Lydia marched over and grabbed Beetlejuice by his tie, putting them nose to nose with each other. The childish attitude he had was completely dropped, replaced by with a much more placating tone.

"Now now, babes, I wasn't bothering her that much. Just wanted to know what was going on since you hadn't come and said hello yet." He held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "How was I supposed to know she would be thoroughly engrossed by my humble presence."

"Nothing about you is humble, BJ." The deadpanned tone said it all. "What did I say about Holidae?"

There was a pause, "...that when there's a school holiday you get to come visit longer?"

"Beetlejuice," Lydia let go of his tie, running a hand over her face in anguish. "No."

Beetlejuice winced at the use of his full name, "Okay, okay... I know. Don't bother her. But Lyds, she looked right at me. She knows I'm around! You're not gonna deny me the chance to be seen, are you?! You were the last human in aaaaages that could see me first thing."

As much as she wanted to stay angry, to say him name three times and banish him for a while as punishment for breaking her rules, she couldn't refuse his plea. It was true what he said: she had been the first living person to notice him in a long time. To end his invisibility. If Holidae could already feel him around... maybe it was better to treat the subject like a band aid and rip it off quickly.

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Give me some time to ease her into the idea."

"That's why you're my best bestest friend, babes." He loosened his tie, vanishing from the room.

#beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice x oc #beej x oc #writing time #beetlejuice x self insert

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phantomhydeoftheopera · 5 years ago

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Hello @chengsang! I am your person for the MDZS network gift exchange! I did my best to include as many of your favorite pairings as possible, so I hope you like it!

Jiang Cheng stared down at his phone with a deadpan expression. He sighed and gently banged his head back against his bedroom wall. He peeked back at the screen. Nope, the text from his brother was still there.

Jiang Cheng! Don’t forget about our party tonight! And remember the gift exchange!

His phone slipped from his hands and fell onto his purple duvet cover. Sure, work was busy, apparently so busy that it had pushed all memory of his brother’s holiday party out of his mind.

His brother was annoying as hell, he wasn’t going to lie. His husband was scarily straight faced, and they were all. Over. Each. Other every time he saw them.

Still, free food was free food, and his sister’s restaurant was catering. The only problem was that now he had to get a gift for whoever Wei Ying picked out of his ridiculous Santa hat. It was totally rigged anyway, he always ended up with some random person Wei Ying had invited just to set him up with them.

It never worked but nevertheless his brother was determined.

Jiang Cheng got himself ready and left his apartment. He figured he could treat himself to breakfast while he was out.

It was snowing lightly as he walked into town and he buried his chin further into his coat as the flakes settled onto his hair. He appeared to be one of the many people doing some last minute shopping. He thought that all of his shopping was done; he had gifts for his siblings and their families, his parents, and his nephew. This was the only thing in the way of having a relaxing holiday.

He ducked into the least crowded store he could find and stomped his boots on the mat to get the excess snow off.

Jiang Cheng didn’t think he’d ever been inside this particular store because he would have remembered taking an immediate liking to the cozy atmosphere, the aroma of coffee permeating the air, and…

… oh boy.

Here’s the thing. Jiang Cheng has had high standards since his first year of college. The only time they had ever changed was when he expanded his tastes to include men.

But the boy behind the counter made Jiang Cheng want to throw those standards out the window.

The first word that popped into Jiang Cheng’s head was “cute.” He was sitting on a high stool feeding a… was that a bird in his hand? A little yellow canary was seated on his knuckles and the boy was feeding it seeds like some kind of Disney princess. The bird tweeted and he laughed, a sound Jiang Cheng thought sounded just as sweet as the birdsong.

Jiang Cheng walked closer, trying not to disturb the boy. He didn’t notice after a while, but the canary turned around and flew to the boy’s shoulder.

“What is it, little guy? Do you see- shit!” The boy cried, nearly falling off the stool in a hurry to tidy his already neat shoulder length hair, and greeted Jiang Cheng with a too-wide grin. “Hi! Welcome to Little Bird Gifts! May I help you with anything?”

Now was the time to say something smooth. Something that would instantly charm the boy and temporarily convince him that Jiang Cheng wasn’t a complete moron.

“... Are you selling that?”

Or maybe not.

The boy turned to the urns of coffee behind him with the tall stacks of paper cups that Jiang Cheng was pointing to.

“Oh, the coffee? Yes, it’s thirty yuan. Care for a cup?”

“Yes please, thank you.”

He poured a cup and handed it to Jiang Cheng. Their fingers touched and he noticed that the boy’s hands were soft. The boy leaned on the counter and rested his chin in his hands.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

Oh he sure was and he might’ve found it.

“Just something generic. My brother is having a party that involves a gift exchange. I just need something that anyone would like.”

“I have some ideas, follow me.”

He hopped off the stool and came around the other side of the counter and led Jiang Cheng further into the shop. The boy was wearing a green turtleneck sweater and tight black jeans with low heeled black ankle boots.

Jiang Cheng tried really hard to focus on how the jeans hugged his ass perfectly and his height was great for cuddling.

“There’s some incense sets, scarves and gloves, nice glasses, cheese knives, and my personal favorite, fans hand painted by me.”

Jiang Cheng curiously unfolded one of the fans. It was beautifully painted with an image of gentians and curling vines.

“You really made this? It’s stunning.”

The boy grinned, a real one this time and not a customer service smile.

“Just a hobby of mine. I’ll leave you to your browsing.”

Jiang Cheng wandered through the rows and displays of items. He decided that he might have to come back to this shop for other occasions, or just to get something fun for himself. Not to mention the cute employee…

Suddenly something landed on his head and started to tangle in his hair. He swatted at it only to be met with a sharp bite on his finger.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I don’t know what got into him,” the boy cried as he ran over to untangle his bird from Jiang Cheng’s hair. He had to bend down so the boy could reach the top of his head. God, he even smelled good. The bird flew out of Jiang Cheng’s hair and nested on the boy’s head instead.

“Do you always let him go free?”

“Well, yes, he’s sort of my mascot. I promise he doesn’t fly into everyone’s hair all the time. Maybe you’re special!”

Well if the bird likes him then Jiang Cheng was one step closer.

The boy reached out to smooth down his messed up hair, but ended up running his fingers through it. “I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

God was he whipped.

After some careful deciding Jiang Cheng chose a pretty mug with some coffee and tea. A safe choice, everyone was bound to like one or the other.

“Good choice,” the boy commented as he rang up the purchases.

“Thanks. I’ve never been in here before, it’s nice.”

“I’m glad you like it,” the boy leaned forward and scribbled something on the receipt, “let’s hope I can convince you to come back some time.”

His number. The boy had written his number on the receipt.

“Oh, I’m sure you can.”

———————-

Jiang Cheng arrived at his brother in law’s ridiculously large house that evening with his gift and a small host gift for his brother. Every edge of their mansion was lined with lights and Jiang Cheng has to shield his eyes as he walked up the driveway.

“Jiang Cheng!” His brother exclaimed as he opened the door, “so glad you could make it tonight!” Wei Ying gave his brother a tight hug and led him into the house. “You can put that under the tree, there’s wine and food over there, most of the people are here and- oh is that for me? You shouldn’t have!”

“You would have complained otherwise,” Jiang Cheng grumbled.

“Oh don’t be like that! Have some cheer!” Wei Ying plunked a headband down on Jiang Cheng’s head, which turned out to have a pair of antlers on them.

“You’re lucky I don’t want to make a scene at your party.”

“I know. Now, go mingle.”

Wei Ying vanished from his side and left Jiang Cheng to fend for himself. He wove through the crowd of people and tried to locate the alcohol. If getting wasted was going to get him through this party then so be it.

“Nice antlers,”

… It couldn’t be.

What are the odds?

Jiang Cheng turned around and, as he suspected, it was the cute boy from the gift shop.

“Believe me, I’m wearing them against my will.”

“Well if that’s the case, let me help with that.” The boy took off the headband and placed it on his own head. “How do I look?” He asked with a twirl.

Cute.

“Good,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m Jiang Cheng, by the way, I didn’t say earlier.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Nie Huaisang.”

“I haven’t… seen you at one of my brothers parties before.”

“Ah, I was a last minute invite,” Nie Huaisang explained, “Lan Xichen is, was, a good friend of my brother, but after his death I would have been alone on Christmas so he asked if I could come.”

Jiang Cheng had met the eldest Lan brother a few times and that sounded something like he would do.

“I’m glad you’re here though, someone’s gotta cut me off at some point, and you get to try my sister’s cooking.”

“Well, if it’s as good as I’ve heard, I’m in for a real treat.”

They spent the rest of the evening together, just talking and enjoying the company of another lonely soul. Jiang Cheng found himself opening up after a while, and not because of the alcohol. He learned that Nie Huaisang owned the store and had two more birds in his apartment. He had been close with his brother who had been a martial arts instructor and world champion before his sudden death. Nie Huaisang had taken it pretty hard but was doing okay.

“It’s hard, but you have to remind yourself that they wouldn’t want to see you moping around, you know? Can’t be sad for too long,” he said before taking a sip of spiked eggnog. “But enough of that, let’s get some of that good food I’ve heard so much about.”

Jiang Cheng introduced Nie Huaisang to his sister and her girlfriend, and said hello to his nephew, his sister’s son from her previous marriage. He was talking with one of his friends and was about to enter the kitchen when Wei Ying stopped him.

“Look up, you too, I’m not letting you in my kitchen unless you kiss.”

Wei Ying had hung a sprig of mistletoe on the doorway in hopes of catching unsuspecting victims. Instead of complaining, Jin Ling blushed as his friend Lan Jingyi gave him an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

Jiang Cheng made a mental note to go through that doorway with Nie Huaisang.

After dinner came the anticipated, or dreaded, gift exchange. Everyone gathered in the living room and one at a time Wei Ying would take slips of paper with names on them out of his Santa hat, and the person that was given the name had to give their gift to whoever’s name was on the paper.

He knew for a fact that Wei Ying color coded the slips of paper so he could try and play matchmaker.

“Your turn A-Cheng!” Wei Ying said, ignoring Jiang Cheng’s protests against the nickname, “You have… Nie Huaisang!”

“What a coincidence!” The adorable boy on his right laughed.

“Yeah, a coincidence,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. Wei Ying grinned cheekily.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to open this.” Nie Huaisang accepted the gift anyways, “but it’s the thought that counts.”

“But that’s not all! Nie Huaisang has… Jiang Cheng!”

“Oh good! I picked this with you in mind.” Nie Huaisang placed a box in Jiang Cheng’s lap.

“How did you know you would get my name?”

“Oh, I have my ways…” Nie Huaisang said mysteriously. “Open it.”

He carefully unwrapped the gift and pushed apart the tissue paper. A black and purple plaid scarf was nestled in the layers. “I saw that you weren’t wearing one when you came in, so I thought I’d give it to you.”

“This is…” Jiang Cheng picked it up and held it against his face. It was soft, felt like cashmere, and even smelled like the shop. Smelled like him. “I love it, thank you so much.” Feeling brave, he pulled Nie Huaisang into a hug, which he returned.

“I’m happy you like it.”

Someone next to them cleared their throat, and Jiang Cheng looked to see Wei Yong holding the mistletoe that was previously in the doorway.

“Come on, you have to do it!”

Nie Huaisang laughed.

“Well, if you don’t mind…”

He turned Jiang Cheng’s face towards his and kissed him right on the lips. It took him a minute to register what was happening, but he pulled Nie Huaisang closer and kissed him back.

“I don’t mind at all,” Jiang Cheng whispered when the broke apart.

“Good, because I plan to do that again.”

#mdzsexchange2019

18 notes · View notes

lovskim · 6 years ago

Text

the last supper

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre/warnings; angst, fluff, mentions of death, character death, swearing, mark being soft, just overall some pretty sad stuff

word count; 5.9k

:: summary; you are allowed to have one last meal before Death takes you away. you decide to have it with mark lee, your longtime crush, but you have to break the news of your death as well.

author’s note; to be honest, i kinda based this off the k-drama goblin, (which you all should watch it’s really good) and i love mark lee so i hope you enjoy!!

( gif credits to owner. )

Death.

What an interesting word.

You never know when you’re going to die, where you’re going to die, or how you’re going to die.

You can die at 4:07 pm, just outside your favorite coffee shop, trying to cross the street. You can die at 8:38 pm, hiding under a table, by a gunshot that was never meant for you. You can die at 5:21 am, lying down on your bed, completely asleep, motionless.

Death was completely random, it was almost as if Death took names out of a fish bowl everyday and decided to take whoever was on that slip of paper.

No matter your reputation, no matter if you did shit that was unforgivable, or you never sinned your entire life, you never know when you’re going to die. That’s how life is, and you had to learn to accept that. Nevertheless, you lived your days just like you lived the days before that, completely incautious, completely carefree.

But what you didn’t expect was Death to knock at your door. Literally.

You had no idea if this was how Death greeted other people about to die. But that’s how it was for you.

When he arrived, a cold wind passed by your home, and the air froze, suddenly feeling like it was below zero degrees outside. You had to get your sweater, but all the lights in your house shut off abruptly, leaving you with nothing but the cloudy sky outside.

It was scary, but you suspected that there was a storm coming. But the closer he came, the harder the rain fell, like there was hail outside your window. It was like a movie, and you were living in it.

When he knocked, you opened the door. When he spoke, you shivered. When he gave you a paper, you took it.

Maybe it was your fault for not suspecting anything sooner, but Death looked normal, like he was almost human. He took the face of any other person you could have seen walking past you on the street, or by your school hallways. You never suspected anything, and that was your problem.

When he left, the cold left, the rain hindered, and the skies cleared. The sun was back out, the rain and the clouds following him. You opened the slip of paper in your hands, watching the suspicious figure walk away from your home.

The note was straight to the point, it was surprising, it was something you can never take in.

You were going to die. You can only have one last meal with anyone before your death. You could not speak of this with anyone, or you would die a painful death.

These were the things written on the slip of paper, and you wondered if it was a joke. You scoffed, throwing the paper into the bin.

Kids nowadays, always throwing pranks on every unsuspecting person they see. You were about to walk away, until the trash bin where you threw the slip of paper went up in flames.

You yelped, you fell to the ground in shock, clutching your chest. Your heavy breaths slowed once the fire died down. You were frightened, you were scared, and most importantly, you didn’t know what to do.

Maybe the note was fake. But how would you know? Would a normal note like that go up in flames? You were questioning your situation, but you decided to call someone, just in case you were actually going to die.

You didn’t know who to call. You could choose your family, but you didn’t want to deal with your siblings, or your parents crying over you. You could have a heart attack because of the pain you would face. You did not have much friends. Most of them left once you went to college.

Feeling frustrated, you plopped on your couch, rubbing your temples. You could call your friend, Jaemin. But you didn’t want to disturb him, or make him worry.

Deciding on a number, you dial a number you haven’t looked at for a long time, and you wondered if the person you were calling changed his number.

“Hello?” The person answered. Your palms became sweaty, your hands shaky, as you took in a deep breath.

“Hi Mark. It’s Y/N L/N.”

You tapped your foot against the concrete, checking your watch rather frequently. You were early, but still checked the time to see if he would be early too. It was your first time in a while to go on a date with someone, if you can even consider this a date.

You never thought for once in your life, Mark Lee would answer one of your calls. Mark was the love of your life, since high school. He was the only crush that you were close enough with to do a special handshake with, and to share answers to tests. You weren’t “best friends forever” close, but you were close enough to call each other close friends.

You lost contact for a while. Mark transferred to a different school two years ago, and you haven’t seen him since. Since he transferred towns, you haven’t really contacted him or spoke to him. But just like fate, Mark ended up moving back to his old town, and you two ended up in the same college. Different courses, but the same college. Although you two lost contact, he would still smile at you in the hallways, but with new friends.

You haven’t formally talked to Mark for a while, but you never really lost feelings for him. He was just perfect. A gentleman, a loyal friend, and he was someone you could count on. So when Mark picked up the phone with the same cheery voice from middle school, you knew you chose the right guy to go to dinner with. Even if it was your last.

“Y/N!” You snap out of your thoughts and look up, seeing a man running towards you with an umbrella. It’s raining. You barely noticed the rain because of your thoughts. Luckily, before you could get soaked because of the rain, Mark used the umbrella to cover you.

“What are you doing?” He pants, looking at you with a concerned face. “Do you know that you can get sick standing here in the rain?” You shrug, tugging your coat tighter. “It was a good thing I brought my umbrella.” He laughs softly. His laugh was cute, the same bubbly laugh you used to love, and the laugh you still love.

“So..” He chuckles awkwardly, looking down at the soaked road. The two of you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, making passerbys look at you with weird faces. “Long time no see. How are you?” Mark takes your hand in his as you two resume walking.

“Good. How are you?” You speak for the first time. Your insides bubble up knowing that you two were holding hands, rather cutely, if you may add. Your hands were intertwined in his, making you smile softly. “Fine.” Mark answers. “You know, I never suspected you to go for an art major.”

“I never expected you to go for a literature major. I guess we’re even.” You look down and smile when you notice Mark’s gaze on you, before you enter the restaurant. You thank the Lord that nothing was awkward between the both of you. Maybe this night won’t be a disaster after all.

Once you enter the restaurant, a waiter walked up to you and smiled before looking at Mark. He looked confused, seeing his face, but Mark whispered something in his ear and he immediately nodded and smiled again, making his way across the restaurant.

“Let’s go.” Mark smiles at you and takes your hand as you walk through the crowded and fully booked restaurant. “What just happened?” You question as Mark walks ahead of you, with you just trailing behind.

“My uncle owns this restaurant. I haven’t been here for a long time. Probably why they were surprised to see me.” Mark waves at one of the chefs behind the counter.

He takes your hands in his, and you’re surprised with the amount skin ship Mark was showing towards you. He was never like this with your before, but you didn’t mind, it was sweet.

The waiter guides you to a door at the back of the restaurant, taking out some keys and jiggling it through the keyhole. He opens it wide, making you gasp in awe. It was wonderful.

You two were faced with a private room, beautifully decorated by Mark, as he said so himself. It was simple, but cute. There were a few potted plants scattered around the room, and a rather large window showing the outside world. It was so big, it was like the glass outside stores. Outside people were walking across the street, the soft rain was pattering against the windows, and there was the occasional hum of the engine from some of the cars passing by.

“It’s beautiful. It’s so cute!” You laugh at Mark, seeing his proud expression. “I always reserved this room for my special guests, aka you!” He enters the room, taking off his coat and yours, leaving the umbrella by the door.

Before you can sit down, you find Mark running towards you just to pull out your chair for you. You laugh at him before sitting down and thanking him before he pushes your chair back. Mark sits down across from you and hands you a menu.

“Order whatever you want. It’s on me.” Mark smiled warmly at you and you blushed, looking down at your feet. “T-thanks.” You mutter before flipping through the menu.

While he wasn’t looking, you watch Mark through your eyelashes. He was ethereal, and definitely matured into the bright, handsome young man that he is today. He was calming to look at. He notices your stare and looks up, making you immediately shift your eyes to the menu.

“So, did you decide on what you’re going to order?” Mark blushes behind the menu when he notices your stare. “I guess i’ll order the spaghetti and meatballs.” You say, unsure because of the great variety of dishes displayed on the menu. Mark nods, pleased with your decision.

“A classic. But also the restaurant’s bestseller.” Mark rings a bell on the table, signalling that you two were ready to order. “So how’s school? How are you?” Mark leans his elbows on the table. “It’s fine. I’m applying to be a TA next semester.” You reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and looking down at your hands.

“No way! Me too.” Mark laughs, happy that a friend of his is applying for the same position as he is. “For who?” Mark asks. “Mr. Kim.” You say happily. He was always your favorite teacher, and he gave some top-notch advice as well. Mark nods in agreement. “He’s great. I love him too.” You smile, unsure on what to say next.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it? I missed you.” Mark shyly says, making you smile.

“Why did you invite me today? To be honest, I was a bit confused with your sudden call, but i’m happy to see you again.” Mark says. You panic for a while, unsure on what to tell the man. Telling him about your death would be too much, and too soon, but changing the subject would make him suspicious as well.

“Nothing much. I just missed talking to you I guess. I missed what we used to do during the old days.” You answer. Mark laughs, remembering the old days. “Remember when we were lab partners? That was so tragic.” You clap your hands at the funny memory. “We messed up almost every single project that was given to us.”

“And our English project?”

“I did the art and you did the written piece. Best work in the batch. I remember rubbing it in that loser’s face.”

“Jeno? He’s a sweetheart now apparently. He studies acting in my old town.” The fun fact made your eyes widen. Jeno was a complete bully towards you and Mark during your freshman year, and it was a nightmare. “No way. Mark Lee you’re lying aren’t you?” You laugh in surprise.

The waiter enters the room, and Mark gives your order as well as his. You still can’t believe your scary high school bully would study something as cool as acting in college. He was handsome though, and would fit acting for action films or whatnot. Mark finishes up the order and the waiter leaves the room, leaving you and Mark alone once more.

Silence. There was nothing in the room but silence.

“What made you move back?” The sudden question leaves Mark a bit surprised, but he answers it anyway. He fumbles with the utensils on the table. “I guess I just missed this town. The town I moved to was boring, and didn’t have as much flare and excitement. I also missed some of my friends, including you. So to say I wasn’t sad when we stopped talking is a lie.”

Mark’s soft words made your heart melt inside. He was such a softie, which made you in love with him even more. Mark looks up, and leans forward, like he was about to whisper something. “Do you remember in our sophomore year, when Jaemin and Donghyuck made us skip classes to go to McDonald’s and we got detention for a whole week?” Mark asks. Of course you remembered that moment. Your parents grounded you for a month, scared that you would turn into one of those gang members that do drugs and that would vandalise school property.

“Of course I do. I think that was one of my biggest regrets that year.” You answer. Mark continues to play with the utensils beside him. “D-do you maybe want to do it again? Right now?” Mark asks, and you can tell the guy’s nervous. “Right now? Like leave the restaurant?” Your eyes go wide at the suggestion. “Yeah. I mean it’s okay if you don’t want to but I figured instead of wasting our time waiting, we could be doing something really fun.”

What a way to spend your last day alive.

“I’m fine with it. But are you sure? All your work will but put to waste.” You tell him, looking around and admiring the decorations, but Mark seems completely sure with his actions. “Let’s go. I’ll make it up to you some other time.” Mark reaches out to take your hand.

What made you sad was that there was going to be no other time for Mark to make it up to you. “Are you asking me out on another date Mark Lee?” You take your hand away from his, and he laughs. “Maybe I am. Are you going to say no?” Mark crosses his arms.

“Let’s go.” You say, feeling mischievous, and Mark smirks before getting his coat as well as yours, and the umbrella. “Put this on, it’s cold outside.” Mark helps you put on your coat. He leads you towards the back door of the restaurant, making sure no one sees the two of you leaving.

“To be honest I used this exit when my father’s meetings got super boring.” Mark opens the umbrella and makes sure to cover the two of you before the both of you join the people walking on the sidewalk. “You must have had a nice childhood growing up. I mean, the private room in the restaurant shows it all.”

“I mean I guess? My father was always busy with work but my mom was always there taking care of me so it wasn’t really a problem.” Mark takes your hand and guides you towards the stoplight. “Want to go to McDonald’s?” Mark suggests and you smile brightly. “I would love to.”

You and Mark stand in line for food in McDonald’s, and although you wanted real food, you decided the best meal you can have at the moment was ice cream, and maybe some fries.

So that was what Mark ordered. Two ice cream sundaes and two large fries, for two hungry people. Mark questioned your weird appetite, especially since it was raining outside and it was cold, but you urged him to order the meal and he did it anyway, since he couldn’t say no to you.

The two of you ended up in a park, not too far away from the brightly-lit McDonald’s. Mark took out some napkins he got from the fast food chain and used it to wipe the water from the bench due to the rain that stopped a few minutes ago. You on the other hand, poured out the french fries on the paper bag given to you, so you and Mark could share the fries easily.

It was nearly 10 pm, so a lot of people in the park were leaving, with their dogs, with their babies, with their significant other, leaving you and Mark alone on that bench with a clear view of the moon and the stars.

If there was a perfect time to tell Mark, it was now.

You munched on the french fries, and occasionally dipped it in your ice cream. Mark stayed quiet next to you, licking his ice cream and eating his fries. Suddenly, he turned to face you and took a fry. “Open up.” Mark tries to feed you, and you open your mouth so Mark can shoot the fried food in your mouth.

You two stayed like that for a while, feeding each other and laughing when there was ice cream smeared on each other’s faces, or when you or Mark miss when shooting a fry in each other mouths.

Once the fries were all finished, and the ice cream eaten by the both of you, you took in a deep breath. It was time to tell him, even though you knew it would hurt him dearly. No matter how much you didn’t want to tell Mark, you chose him, and you had to face the consequences of your actions.

“Mark, I have something to tell you.” You say, suddenly serious. Mark was still in a joking mood, so he laughed lightly and turned to face you. “What? You’re gay?” You laugh a bit, but your face doesn’t light up like it usually does.

You take deep breath. “Mark, I-I like you, and I might start rambling, but I don’t know when i’ll ever get the chance to tell you again.” You continue rambling, and Mark doesn’t look surprised. In fact, he just sighs and looks down to look at the grass.

“I know, Jaemin told me a while back. I haven’t had the chance to tell you, but now I can.” He takes a deep breath and looks down, like a kid who did something bad and had to apologize. “I like you too, Y/N, ever since I figured out we faced the same situation during our sophomore year. You’re really cute, and when you smile, I can hear angels singing.” You laugh at his comment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I came back because of you. I totally didn’t expect for us to end up at the same college, but i’m really glad we did.” Mark confesses.

You’re speechless at Mark’s confession, suddenly unsure on how you’re going to tell him. Mark continues to ramble, and you chuckle when he shows no signs of stopping, until you softly place your lips on his. Mark melts into the kiss, placing his hands on your cheeks.

He pulls away from you, breathing heavily. “My God, I should’ve confessed sooner.” Mark laughs breathlessly. He smiles happily, but you look down, and he immediately senses something’s wrong.

“Actually, there’s something else I need to tell you.” You say softly, looking at your hands. Mark takes your hands in his, and pulls you close to him. You lean your head on his shoulder, and he rubs your back. “What is it?” Your whole body fell numb, and you felt the tears run down your cheeks.

“I-i’m going away.” Mark feels your tears fall down, and he shakes his head. It was all too sudden. You guys just found each other. “Like moving away?” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks, and Mark, shaking, wipes your tears using his thumb. The both of you stay silent for a while, nothing heard but your cries as you cry on Mark’s shoulder.

Mark, suddenly realizing what you meant, shakes his head and grabs your shoulder. “Y-you can’t, Y/N. There are so so many people that love you. You just can’t.” You shake your head, unsure on how to tell him.

“I-I have no choice. I was told today–“

“Someone threatened you?” Mark’s alert, wiping his tears and holding your shoulders tightly. He looked scared, but you can see him trying to keep a strong face for you. “No. D-Death himself told me.”

“What the fuck? Y/N! Do you not know there are people out there trying to prank people. Are you that gullible?” Mark looked mad, and for a second, you were scared.

“It’s not a prank!” You shout, shutting him up. You then calm yourself, wiping your tears. You explain to Mark your situation, and he listens, never interrupting you. “It doesn’t matter. It’s real. I know it’s real.”

Mark’s quiet for a while, and you’re scared that he might not believe you. “Why did you choose me?” He asks quietly, wondering out of all the people you could’ve called, you chose him. “Telling my family was too risky, and also, I kinda wanted to confess to you.” You answer, voice also quiet.

The city is quiet. There are less cars on the street, and the shops and restaurants are closing. The silence was comforting, and it would have been nice if you weren’t stuck in the situation you were in. Mark stood up from his place on the bench and he started walking around the park, probably to clear his thoughts.

You were confused, but followed nevertheless. “What are you going to do now?” Mark holds your hand as you two walk. He was confused, and mad, but it was life. If there was life, there was also death. If whatever you were telling him was true, then he wouldn’t know what to do with his life. He just found you, reconnected, and told you he loved you. It was hard, and Mark felt like crawling in a hole and staying there forever.

But there was still a few hours left before the night ended, and he wanted to spend it with you, and especially with you.

You turned to face Mark, and you’re surprised as you watch tears fall down his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” You laugh because even though you knew why he was crying, it was still so sudden. Mark laughed as he wipes his tears and embraces you. “What do you think? My girlfriend who I just confessed to tells me she’s going to die. What do you expect me to do? Laugh?”

“I don’t want to go either, trust me.” His tears are glistening due to the moonlight, and you wipe them away. Mark keeps his hands on your waist, and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as he hugs you tighter. “I’m sorry I didn’t confess to you sooner. I could have taken you on a proper date.” Mark apologizes and you shake your head.

“This is a proper date, what are you talking about?” You continue to walk with Mark hand in hand. “One where we go to the movies and watch Spider-Man or something.” Mark tells you and you gasp. “You still remember!” You laugh as you remember your obsession with the Marvel superhero. “Of course I do. How can I forget? I mean, you practically talked about him everyday-”

You hit him on the arm. “No I didn’t!” You protest, and Mark chuckles.

“Listen, he’s cool and he has web shooters and overall he’s just hands-” Mark places his lips on yours. This time, he’s the one to initiate the kiss. You wrap your arms around Mark’s neck as you deepen the kiss. “Even cooler than me?” Mark asks breathlessly as you pull away. “Maybe.” You say before you walk ahead of him, making him run as he tries to catch up.

The both of you end up playing tag, and sadly, Mark was ten times faster than you are, so he ended up catching you faster than expected. He grabs your arms and wraps your body in an embrace. “Let’s go home?” Mark suggests.

The two of you walk back to get your things, and you’re suddenly hit with a wave of emotions. Your last night was coming to an end.

“You’ll never forget me, right?” You tell Mark, and he looks at you with a sad expression. “Never.” Mark tells you, a serious expression on his face. “Don’t wait for me anymore. Find someone good to you, and make sure she treats you better than I will ever treat you. Promise?”

Mark’s about to protest when you stop him, sticking out your pinky. Mark takes in a deep breath before nodding and locking his pinky with yours. “Promise.”

“I love you, Mark.” You lean your head on Mark’s shoulder as you two sit on the bench.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

The sun shines through the curtains of your room, the brightness causing you to yawn and shift around on your bed. Your body aches due to the uncomfortable position you slept in the night before, and you stretch your arms, hoping that the ache will go away.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, taking in your surroundings. You’re in your room. You check yourself for any injuries, anything on your body that would tell you that you were dying.

Surprised that you were perfectly fine, you stand up and jump around. You were fine.

You try to pick up something, or go through walls. Maybe i’m a ghost. You groan in pain when your body collides with the wall. You were alive, and you were fine. Maybe it was a false alarm after all. Mark and I cried for nothing.

Mark.

How was he? Was he sad? Was he crying? Did he sleep well the night before? The thoughts lingered as you stood still in the middle of your room. It was still a school day, so you’ll surprise him in school.

You pick up your clothes, your shoes, and tidy up your room. You changed to some comfy clothes, a hoodie, some leggings, your usual sneakers, and soon enough, you were ready to go.

8:57 am.

Your first class started at 9:45. It left you enough time to maybe visit Mark in the library. You were excited to see him. Imagine how his face would light up when he sees you again. It made you tingly inside.

You decided to take the car. Picking up your keys from the kitchen counter, you enter your car and start the engine. You were excited to see him again, and you couldn’t wait.

Driving past houses and buildings, you make your way downtown, making sure to be aware of your surroundings, especially since you never know what could happen to you. Turning towards the campus, you stop by a stoplight and wait for a while.

You look around, and see some fellow schoolmates walking to school, one of them being the love of your life, Mark Lee. Love of your life is a bit dramatic though...

You roll down the car window. “Mark Lee!” You scream at the top of your lungs. His head is down, and he’s wearing a hoodie today, hood up. He turns around, looking for the source of the sound. You wave at him, and you have to admit you were at least a little bit right.

His face lights up, and a huge smile ends up on his face. He looks shocked for a second, wondering how could you be alive, when in reality you were supposed to be dead. But he lets all thoughts aside as he waves back, just enthusiastically as you do, and you smile widely.

He was here, and so were you.

What you didn’t notice was the stoplight turn green, and the cars honking at you, as they turn to overtake your car. Mark then signals you to go, and that he would soon catch up, so you nod before driving forward.

The bittersweet moment ended as quick as it started.

The stoplight turned red.

You were too late.

The last thing you heard were the honks of numerous cars heading your way, screams, and sobs.

So this was how you were going to die.

Mark sprinted towards your car, panting as he pushed the crowd away, tears threatening to fall. People were crowding around him, as he looked at your car, flipped over due to the collision. You were inside.

Mark pushed away the glass, trying his best to carry your bloody body out of the car. People helped him, and soon enough, your body was right in his arms. Mark wiped away the tears falling down his cheeks. Some of his tears stained your white floral blouse. Luckily, he can hear someone calling an ambulance.

He quickly pulled up his hoodie sleeves, and checked your pulse.

No pulse.

Just as he started to panic, he took a deep breath and carefully tilts your head to see if you’re breathing. He places his hands on your chest and starts pushing down, like what he learned from one of his classes. Tears are falling, and he wipes them away before pushing again.

“The paramedics are here.” Someone softly grabs his shoulder, and he nods, stepping out of the crowd, and catching his breath. He cries softly, as he squats down and puts his head in his hands. He really lost you. There’s silence, no one to comfort hum, no one for him to talk to.

“Are you Mark Lee?” He looks up and finds one of the paramedics looking down at him. He wipes his tears and nods, standing up. “She’s gone. I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do to save her.” The paramedic tells Mark, and he nods. “T-thank you.” Mark answers and the paramedic gives him a sad, comforting smile and pats his back.

To be honest, Mark expected this. When he saw you in that car, a wave of relief washed over him, but he knew something wasn’t right. Nevertheless, he was extremely happy to see you.

Until the oppurtunity got taken away from him once more.

He sat down again, sobbing this time, like there was nothing else he could do.

You were gone, and there is nothing he can do to save you.

You, on the other hand, could only watch the chaos that happened in the span of five to ten minutes. Your clothes were clean, not a single drop of blood on it, and you looked completely fine. But of course, you weren’t present in the real world, and people would not be able to see you.

You stood on the sidewalk, watching everything. It was surprisingly calm, and the sound was blocked out, almost like you were spacing out. There were people crowding around your car, paramedics, smoke. Mark was right outside the crowd, crouching down, crying. You didn’t want to do anything but to embrace him in your arms.

Everything was blurry, except Mark’s figure, as he talked to the paramedic and looked down once more when they confirmed your death.

“Y/N L/N, 19 years old, died from a car crash only a day after confessing to her crush.” Someone said behind you. You turned around almost immediately once hearing your name. It was him. He was there again.

Death stood beside you, watching the scene before you. “Is that you?” He turned his head to look at you. He looked exactly the same as he did the last time. The same human face, the same human clothes, nothing changed since the last time you saw him. “Why’d you take me?”

“It was time for you to go. I don’t make the decisions, the universe does. It told me it was time for you to go.” Death tells you. He had a scary aura, but you weren’t even a little bit frightened of him, or it, you weren’t sure. “Did I do something so bad in this life that I had to be taken away?” You question him, confused and mad. You watch Mark as he sobs by himself, with no one to comfort him.

“The universe doesn’t choose people to die based on their sins or whatever they have done during their mortal life.” He tells you. That’s how you understood it too. “If the universe chooses who’s going to die or not, what do you do?” You ask Death. He doesn’t move or flinch when you ask that, like he heard the question a million times before. “I’m merely a messenger. I connect the mortal world and heaven or hell, even. I’m not good, or bad, just neutral.” The answer doesn’t surprise you, so you remain quiet.

“Somebody once told me that it was always the good ones that go, and i’m starting to believe it.” You mutter. With this, Death turns and faces you.

“Are you one of the good ones?” Death asks you. You think about it for a while. “I like to consider myself one of the good ones.” You tell him, hoping that it was true, and that you were one of the good ones. “Will I ever see him again?” You’re talking about Mark, who continues to cry in the middle of the road, the crowd now heading back to their normal lives.

“You can only hope.” Death answers, a hopeful message, but not knowing if you’ll ever see Mark again pained you, but you couldn’t feel, not anymore. You nodded instead. “Are you ready to go?” Death asks, turning away and walking the opposite direction.

You watch the scene one last time. The cars, the smoke, the sirens, and the world becomes quiet again once you stare at him. Mark stood up now, tears continued to fall as he watches the paramedics take your lifeless body, but he looked beautiful, either way. You walk towards him, knowing that he can’t see you. He wipes his tears using his hoodie and opens his phone, probably to call your parents. Instead, he opens a picture the two of you took the night before, in the park. It was a selfie, supposedly, but Mark ended up taking a video instead.

Mark presses the play button on the video as it shows the both of you laughing before Mark presses the shutter button. You smile softly as Mark holds his phone close to his chest.

“Ms. L/N?” Death calls your name again. You turn around.

Sure, maybe the Death did take out names from a fish bowl and decided to take whoever was on that slip of paper, and you would never know why your name was on one of those slips of paper. And sure, maybe you didn’t deserve to die and maybe this was all a misunderstanding, or some really messed up shit. Probably the latter part. But you had no other choice but to do what you always did, to take what’s in front of you, and never look back.

But with the Mark now in the picture, it would be quite difficult to do just that.

Nevertheless, you looked at him one last time. His messed up hair, his puffy eyes due to all the crying, and his ruffled clothes, you were going to miss him, a lot.

You turned around.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

#mark lee #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #nct fluff #nct angst #nct scenarios #mark lee x reader #mark lee scenarios #nct blurbs #nct x reader #nct u #nct dream #nct 127 #mine

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siren-dragon · 7 years ago

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Niflheim Employee of the Year -- (Ardyn Izunia x Reader) Ch.1

Hey everyone! I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted a story and that was because real life has taken priority (and I’ve been having a horrible writer’s block). But then I saw the glorious post about Ardyn having a long suffering assistant that has to deal with his shenanigans. And so this fic was born.

Not sure how long I’m going to make this fic, but if people like it I’ll see how long I can make it.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! ^_^

CH. 1 - INTRODUCTIONS

Life often had a way of throwing unsuspecting obstacles at a person. And, if one was lucky, they received warnings of such an event approaching them to prepare themselves. A simple ‘turn back now’ or ‘run away!’ would be shout to the individual; be it figuratively or even literally. So, when the job offers to be an assistant to a high-ranking government official appeared within your mail, you felt a feeling of dread crawl down your spine instead of the typical feeling of elation. Something about the vague requirements and obscene salary sent warning bells ringing all around your head. But, with no other job prospects and money quickly disappearing, you had become desperate and tossed such warnings out the window.

Perhaps you should have listened to the voice that seemed to scream, “RUN THE FUCK AWAY!” within your mind. Though as usual; when life gave you lemons, it seemed to only throw them into your face….

The next day as you boarded the train to Zegnautus you couldn’t help but wonder who your new boss was to be. Zegnautus Keep was one of the most secure facilities within all Niflheim, except for any ‘black-sites’ and the Imperial Palace. Whoever the individual was, they certainly seemed rather full of themselves to request your presence at the Keep.

As the train pulled into the station, you stood up and walked onto the platform; taking in the sight of the research facility. Massive freight cars lay along the tracks as cranes and staff workers unloaded the cargo within. Researchers in lab coats rushed about the place, looking oddly reminiscent of ants scrounging around for any abandon food one may have dropped. Glancing down at the paper in your hands, you took a deep breath and walked toward the elevators.

“Excuse me Miss, may I see some identification please.” A young soldier spoke, smiling kindly at you.

“Oh, I’m afraid I don’t have one. I am on my way to an interview for a job. This here is the room number,” you answered honestly, handing the soldier the written address.

You watched curiously as the soldier’s face seemed to drain of all color, making his skin appear pale and fragile. To any normal individual, that would have been warning number two.

“O-Oh, that’s an easy one. Just take this elevator to the 5th floor and proceed down the corridor on your left. You’ll get there in no time.” The soldier stammered.

“Thank you very much,” you smiled before walking into the elevator.

“Good luck, Miss.” The soldier replied seriously just as the doors closed.

The elevator climbed steadily up toward the higher levels of the Keep, the silence making you hum a tune under your breath to calm your nerves. You prayed to whatever Astrals would even listen that you got this job…as it was either this or working at that café Downtown.

At last the bell chimed; signaling your arrival. Walking out of the elevator you followed the soldier’s instructions and proceeded down the left corridor, glancing at every room number for a match to the one in your hands. After about five minutes you came across a large lobby with what appeared to be a bored secretary lazily flipping through the pages of a magazine at her desk. It felt more like a tomb of steel and iron than a simple waiting room, causing that feeling of dread to crawl down your spine once more. Gathering your thoughts and fraying nerves, you approached the secretary with letter in hand.

“Hello, I was told to come here for a job interview. Is this the right place, I don’t see any other applicants…”

“Just head inside, he’ll be with you in a moment.” The woman replied in a dull and monotone voice, not even looking up from her magazine.

“Terrific…” you muttered before proceeding into the office.

Whoever’s office this was, it was massive. The wall to your right was made completely out of windows, offering a beautiful view of Gralea’s metropolitan skyline. A large desk sat directly across from you on the opposite side of the room with multiple stacks of paper sitting on top and around it. To your right was a small glass conference table with several leather chairs all around while to your left was a pair of matching sofas placed around a low coffee table. If it wasn’t for the massive piles of paperwork on the desk, you would have thought the room was a display for a furniture store.

Sitting down upon one of the leather swivel chairs, you gazed out of the window at the Capital City. “I suppose there’s nothing to do but wait….”

Thirty minutes passed…then an hour…then two hours. You watched the sun slowly rise through the over-cast sky, your frustration and irritation rising with it. Glancing at the clock on the wall it had been a grand total of 3 hours since you had arrived at Zegnautus. You had spoken with the secretary to inquire on the whereabouts of your hopeful boss, only to have the woman tell you that he would be with you shortly. The soft hiss of metal against metal from behind you interrupted your train of thought, indicating the opening of the door.

“If you’re here to tell me that ‘he’ll be with me shortly’ then you can go march right back to your damn desk and tell your boss that if he wanted to make a good first impression, he could at least arrive on time!” You exclaimed in outrage.

A deep chuckle echoed around the office, “I shall take it under advisement.”

Immediately you spun around only to see the famed Chancellor of Niflheim himself: Ardyn Izunia. He smirked down at your frozen expression of surprise and removed his fedora, tossing it onto a coat stand. “I see that you have received my letter.”

“…You’re the one who sent the job request?” You asked in disbelief.

The Chancellor smiled, coming to stand before you. “Guilty as charged. And seeing how you’ve spent the entire day waiting for my arrival, I believe you are in need of a job. Am I correct?”

You narrowed your eyes, your earlier frustration coming out in full force as you stood from your seat. “Just because I need a job does not mean you can treat me as a personal doormat!” You shouted, feeling pitiful glaring upward due to the Chancellor’s staggering 6’ 3” height.

And having realized you had just shouted not once, but twice at the ruthless Chancellor made you wonder briefly if you would even leave the office alive. But Ardyn simply blinked in surprise at your outburst before a large grin appeared on his face. “You’re hired.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“I am quite certain you are not deaf, my dear.”

You stared at the Chancellor as he walked toward his desk, pulling out what appeared like a random stack of paper. “Why are you hiring me? You don’t even know me…”

“Au contraire, I know more about you than you may think Miss (l/n).” Ardyn replied, tossing the stack of paper on to the conference table. “And while your list of skills is quite impressive, I require an individual who is…well, let us say ‘able to speak their mind’.”

He held out a beautiful black fountain pen with the Niflheim crest upon it. “A simple signature is all that is required.”

You stared at the contract lying in front of you in an attempt ignore the delicious scent of the Chancellor’s cologne, and grabbed the fountain pen to write your name upon the parchment. For the briefest of moments, you paused; feeling as if you were signing a contract with the Devil himself. But as they always say; desperate people do desperate things.

Quickly you signed the paper before you could back out of the job offer. Ardyn smiled and snatched the paper from the table and gently placed the remaining stack of parchment into your hands. “Splendid choice, my dear! I look forward to our future…interactions.”

Despite your success with your interview and acquiring a job, you couldn’t help but feel as if Life had just thrown a lemon at your face…and you were too stupid to dodge it.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ardyn izunia x reader #ardyn izunia #my writing

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nervyghost · 7 years ago

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Do I know you? (Part 1 of ?)

Rain pelted down on the unsuspecting Londoners who happened to be walking below, each drop heavy enough to be considered a water balloon. Rose Tyler was one of the unfortunate few who happened to be out in the storm. Her blonde hair hung in shambles across her face, sweater pulled over her head to try and keep some of the water off of her. It was soaked through and her small frame trembled.

She cursed softly under her breath. Of bloody course, she had picked the day of a rainstorm to leave her umbrella at home.

She never would’ve noticed him if he hadn’t tripped. She lifted her gaze to connect with the eyes of a stranger across the street, his green eyes burning into her brown. He was quick to look away and busy himself with trying to dry off. She couldn’t help but feel bad for the bloke in the black raincoat. Luck was on nobody’s side today… She thought as she quickened her pace. He was the least of her problems. Or so she thought. It was the fact that six blocks later, he was still there. She quickened her step, trying not to make it too obvious that she was trying to get away from him. Her mind raced, every piece of advice from her Mother playing on repeat as she struggled to stay calm. It had to be some coincidence, right? Taking another random turn, her heart sank to her shoes as he turned after her. Crap. He’d been following her for about eight blocks now and showed no signs of stopping. She couldn’t make out any distinguishing features through the downpour, buckets of rain chilling her to the bone, blonde hair completely soaked. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she hastily picked it up, not even looking at the name. Anything to distract her from her stalker. “Hello?” “Hey!” She calmed at the sound of Clara’s voice, pressing the phone closer to her ear. “I was just calling to tell you I can’t meet up tonight, Danny and I-” “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” She fought to keep a nervous quiver out of her voice. Clara, much to her dismay, picked up on her unease. “Is everything alright?” She questioned. “I think I’m being followed.” The line was quiet for a moment, then- “Are you sure?” “I think I’d know if it was just paranoia.” She growled into the mouthpiece. “Okay,” Her friend sounded like she was trying to stay calm, not helping Rose’s nerves. “Where are you?” Rose squinted through the falling water to try and see a street name. “Dunno, can’t make it out.” Clara sighed in exasperation. Rose bit back a snippy remark. Now wasn’t the time to try and be clever. “What do they look like?” She risked a glance behind her. “Kind of, tall? Definitely a guy.” After a moment of hesitation, she added, “Wearing a black raincoat.” She tried not to make eye contact. “Okay, you should find someone. He’ll probably bugger off if he sees you with someone.” She looked up the street. An empty street stared back. “Nobody’s here!” She hissed. She pulled her sweater’s hood tighter over her head, tugged the zipper up to her chin and trying to keep her worry at bay. A tight knot of fear formed in her gut as the mystery man crossed to her side of the street. “He just crossed the street!” Her voice was reaching an unusual pitch as fear gripped her. “Okay, stay calm!” Clara instructed, now in full school teacher mode. “You have to find someone.” “Clara I’m alo-” She stopped mid-sentence as a tall man stepped out from a shop not far up the street. “Scratch that.” “Found someone?” The man turned his back to her, brown coat quickly becoming drenched as he hightailed it up the street. “Yeah. I’ll call you back, promise.” With that, she ended the call, hastily starting to walk in his direction, rain dripping down her face and blotting on her eyelashes. She didn’t know who he was. To be honest, she didn’t care. She was just a few feet from him now, making a mental note of just how tall he really was compared to her. And his hair. Really, really great hair… She closed the gap between them with a few quick strides and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He stiffened, a surprised ‘What?’ escaping from his lips. She stood on tip toes to reach his ear. “I’m really sorry, I think I’m being followed and need you to pretend to know me.” The words tumbled out of her mouth in a nervous rush. She pulled away from him quickly, but to her suprise, he wrapped his lanky, pinstripe clad arm around her. “You’re shaking.” He observed. She flushed in embarrassment, trying to tear her eyes away from his - quite frankly - gorgeous face. His freckled features painted the very picture of concern, dark brown eyes searching hers for answers, hair adorably wild from the rain. “Are you cold?” She pulled on the drawstrings of her hoodie. “I’m fine.” His arm suddenly left her shoulder and her heart sank. Don’t leave! She yelped in surprise as something warm and dry was draped over her shoulders. “Here.” His voice was gentle, clearly worried for her. She adjusted the caramel coat on her shoulders. It was much too big for her and the end dragged on the ground. She winced as it was pulled through a puddle. “Sorry 'bout your coat…” She mumbled, dipping her head slightly as the relentless storm pounded down on the pair of them. He smiled softly. “Don’t mention it.” He turned his head and gave a quick glance back down the street. “Guy in the black?” She nodded wordlessly. Before she could react, he pulled her closer to his side protectively. “Is he-” “Still here.” He finished for her, voice coming out as a low growl. She hardly noticed his change in tone, leaning closer to him and just enjoying his warmth. “Anyway, I don’t believe we’ve really met. Properly, I mean.” “No, don’t suppose we have.” Her heart skipped a beat when he shot her a lopsided grin. “I’m John, John Smith.” “Rose Tyler.” She examined her soaked flats and his cream converse, feeling a tingle of warmth in her chest. You dolt, he’s only saying hello… A goofy smile stretched across her face as rain poured down. His arm slipped from her shoulder, and she almost protested until his hand found hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. Their joined hands swung between them in an oddly natural fashion that made her insides form a knot of attraction. She tried to clear her head. After all, he was only helping her get rid of a creepy stalker, and here she was acting like a smitten schoolgirl. A blush crept onto her cheeks as she mentally slapped herself. He’s probably not into you. Just being nice, that’s all. She found herself wishing that wasn’t true. “So, John, what’s your story?” He launched into a long-winded explanation about a degree in astrophysics. Mostly scientific mumbo-jumbo to her, but she didn’t stop him, loving how he gestured wildly with his free hand, how his eyes danced in spite of the weather, how his grip would tighten when he needed her attention. She found herself dreading the sight of her own flat, a sight that she had been praying for moments before John had stumbled into her life. He seemed to notice her hesitance. “You alright?” She nodded, flashing him a dazzling smile as she tried to convince him that everything was fine. He turned his head slightly and glared down the street. “Oh for the love of-” Rose turned to try and see what had caused the change in expression. The man was still tailing behind her, stopping every now and again to pretend to look at something, making sure not to lose the pair. John tensed beside her, throwing his arm back around her. She crashed against his side, nervousness flooding off her in waves. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious. She wondered which of the men was adding to that fact. “D'ya want me to walk you home?” He asked, almost timidly. “I don’t want him to know where I live.” She admitted. He squeezed her shoulder. “Okay. He won’t.” John gently started to guide her down the winding streets, rambling absently about this and that, filling the air with the sound of his own voice. Rose found herself coming to realize that she didn’t mind. She didn’t resist as he continued pulling her along, still trying to get over the fact that the bloke in the black was still bloody there. He suddenly veered off down an alleyway, urging her to follow with a dorky smile. She hesitated. “John,” She started. His smile faded a little, but he didn’t interrupt. “Look, it’s nothing on you. You’re amazing for wanting to help me, but I don’t want to take any more of your day than I already have.” He had just opened his mouth to say something when his eyes flashed with alarm. “Rose, look out!” That was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

#My writing #Cliffhanger #Don't hurt me #Should be done soon #Tenth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Fanfiction

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tomhollandish · 8 years ago

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Peter: Kinesis

A/N: This is overdue. Long overdue. I’ve been working on this a while now, trying to get each part of it to work, and now it’s done. Happy New Year everyone.

Summary: In which Queens gains another hero, and Peter gains something else.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 4,578

The walls of midtown flew by Peter Parker as he scrambled his way out of the school. From his back pocket he produced his mask, slipping in on over his head as the doors bust open, rattling on their hinges from his strength. He cursed, chucking his backpack into the nearest alley and took off his clothes, the signature red and blue already underneath. Along with his spider-sense wracking through his body, there were the sounds of screams erupting from the blocks that lay ahead.

Peter shot a few webs, swinging himself to a higher vantage point. There was dust blowing back from the scene of the crime, car alarms ring off, and even from here, Peter can see debris flying, indicating that this wasn’t an average robbery.

He was trying to get closer when something, much faster than his brain could register whizzed above him.

“WHOA,” Peter was literally cut off, hands flailing in the air as his web was severed, sending him into a free fall. He flicked his wrist towards the nearest building, perching atop a balcony. There was the smell of smoke, and the haze seemed to fill an entire two block radius.

Peter could hear sounds of static throughout the city, certain electronics on the fritz in all the smoke and rubble. And with the arc of lightning that cut his web, there could only have been one person behind it.

Before he could piece it all together, his danger warning flared again, making him jump. White hot lightning jumped like sparks, arcing to reach the wall crawler. Peter was fast, but he could still feel the heat singe the side of his suit, flesh burning as he tried to stay moving. “The faster I move, the less likely he is to hit me,”

“Oh, I do love that brain of yours, you insect!” Electro’s voice was smug, trying to fly after the wall crawler. Peter made a swing around a lamp post and kicked an unsuspecting Electro in the face, making him fall back.

“Actually, spiders are arachnids,” He corrected, smirking behind the mask. He used the few seconds he had to take in the devastation of the blocks around him. There was too much damage for Electro to just be shooting bolts of lightning at random things. Lights flickered, electronic billboards were fritzing out, and the sides of buildings had been completely blown out. It wasn’t until Peter noted the metal, street poles leaning, signs being pulled in Electro’s direction did he understand.

“Neat new trick you’ve got there,” Spidey remarked, noting that after his kick, Electro paid him no mind. “Hey what’s the matter? Tired of me already?” He swung around, trying to face the villain but there was a tug in his gut, much deeper than his normal spider sense. He immediately dropped to the ground before heat lapped at his back, flames erupting from the side of a building where a transformer was blown to bits.

More shouts filled the air and Spider-Man froze, looking back at the wreckage from the spot he was crouched in. Metal was still falling around the air and from the looks of it, the machine has exploded from the inside out. Electro was cackling, rising high above the air in front of Peter. His maniacal laugh was outlandish, but never the less frightening.

“It is a good trick little spider. It’s too bad you won’t be around to see anymore!” Hands poised to strike, Peter was too awestruck to move before the lightning would engulf him. The boy was fast, but he wasn’t faster than lightspeed. Looking up he tried to find a feasible escape route, when something behind Electro caught the boy’s eye.

It was a glimmer, almost like a tiny point of refracted light. For a second it twinkled and pulsed like a star, but then it expanded, into a flat disk of bright, almost purple light. It was placed above Electros head, and for a moment, Peter thought it was some effect from Electro’s power.

And then it hit the villain flat on the head.

He expected the disk to shatter on top of his head like glass, but instead it slammed him onto the asphalt right in front of the red and blue vigilante. Spider-Man jumped nearly a foot in the air, watching as the villain lay motionless in front of him.

“Hello? Earth-to-Electro?” he tapped the side of the man’s head, a groan escaping his lips. Peter gasped and shot a web to silence him, slinging two more to secure his hands to the ground. He then craned his neck high above him, catching sight of a cloaked figure descending to street level.

Once their feet touched the ground, Peter gave then a long hard stare. The dark purple cloak revealed almost nothing about the person; the hood covered well past their eyes, shielding their identity as a form of mask. There’s a huge jewel set in an emblem that rests where he thinks their chest would be, but other than that, no other connections form in Peter’s mind.

He blinks, thinking the stranger might be looking back at him from under the hood, but he doesn’t want to make the wrong assumption. He wants to make a quip, but before he can, a bubble of the same purplish light forms around Electro. He’s lifted off the ground, levitating beside the mysterious hero.

“I will make sure he is put away,” the figure speaks, and Peter is taken aback at the sound. It’s powerful; a sound that is both daunting and comforting, like the voice of a goddess. Her English is proper, much like Thor’s and it’s almost accented, in the weird way that all mystical beings are.

His Spider-sense isn’t what’s going off at the moment, it’s his heart beat. He’s nervous, unsure of what to tell the woman as she flies off, Electro secure in a bubble of light behind her. In the distance police sirens are wailing, coming closer and closer to the scene of the crime, and Peter splits, trying to rid his thoughts of the cloaked woman.

“And just what the hell was that?”

Tony Stark was pacing the living room in front of a bruised Peter, the wounds on his back being tended to by you, who tried very hard to focus on both men at the same time. Peter would notice your brows furrow as you flicked your eyes up to your father, before bringing them back down to the scrapes in front of you.

“Dad, can you just calm down for a second,” you gritted out behind Peter. “The news isn’t going anywhere, they’ve been playing it non-stop for hours,” you rolled your eyes, patting salve onto Peter’s burned side. There were raw red scars from the heat of Electro’s lightning, and the hero could see the worry in your eyes. He’d never been hurt quite like this before.

Tony probably hadn’t even noticed Peter’s injured state, what with being whipped up into a frenzy. His back was turned towards them, the footage of the fight from earlier that day playing on the national news. “And it seems there’s a new hero in town—does New York have room for a new caped crusader?”

“She has a goddamn cape!” the Billionaire shouted, stomping his foot on the ground like a child. “There’s only two men who can pull off a cape, and they live in this tower!”

“Technically, Thor lives in Asgard,” Peter laughed as Mr. Stark turned on you, brown eyes fixed in a menacing glare.

“Upstairs, Y/N. Now,” he hissed out, and you seemed considerably shocked. Closing the latches on the medical kit, Peter turned to see your pouting face, looking at your father in disbelief.

“Fine,” you eventually stated, crossing between Peter and your father, staring him down. The boy found it odd that you hadn’t given more a fight, but there wasn’t much time to think about that after the elevator door shut. The room was quiet, save for the television, broadcasting the same moment over and over again.

Tony hummed, holding his elbow in his hand, stroking his chin in thought. “What was it like, Parker? Seeing him in action like that, taking down a villain without even showing his arms.”

“I think it was a girl,” Peter corrected, hopping down from his place on the counter top. Tony spun on his heels, creasing his brows.

“Really?” he spoke in almost a whisper, his eyes not entirely focused on Peter. Knowing that same gaze, the younger man shook his head, arms up in a placating gesture.

“Mr. Stark, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t think what’s a good idea, Parker? I haven’t even said anything yet,” the smirk that played across the inventor’s lips was one that spelled trouble; not just for him, but for all involved.

Peter had gotten used to Mr. Stark’s whims, often going along with what he said for fear the repercussions weren’t worth the fight. He’d often seen you deny his father what he wanted, but there was a level of trust and respect there that Peter hadn’t earned.

But now, after nearly two years answering Tony’s beck and call, becoming part of his team, and practically living here because of Y/N, he figured he might be in a position to remind Tony that messing with foreign entities was a horrible idea.

“We don’t know what she can do,” he responded, speaking warily and carefully, like he was stepping around a landmine. “We don’t know who’s side she’s on. We’ve seen plenty of people do good deeds and then turn on a dime. Before you even think of knocking on the door of a potential alien threat, let’s make sure she won’t kill us if we do.”

There was a silence that followed, but to Peter it was filled with his shallow breaths and loud heartbeat. His brow began to sweat the more Tony stayed silent, and the teen shut his eyes when Tony started to approach him. It was only when a hand lay clasped on his shoulder did Peter open them, seeing a genuine smile gracing the billionaire’s features.

“That’s some pretty sound advice there, Spider-Boy,” Tony teased, making peter gulp. “Wonder where you learned to make such good decisions.”

Peter wanted to laugh, but his insides were still panicking, waiting until the hand was gone before his shoulders relaxed. “Tell you what, kid. You keep letting her run into you and maybe, just maybe we’ll have enough intel to make a call. Sound like a plan?”

“What, you want me to spy on her?” the boy cocked his head, unsure of what Mr. Stark wanted.

“I want you to make her trust you. Do whatever you think is necessary to gain some background knowledge on her. Who knows, we just might have to make a silver bullet for her, just like we did Banner,” Tony muses, and Peter grows a little pale. He wanted to step out of the billionaire’s grip, but Tony’s hand is like a metal clamp that squeezes tighter and tighter the more he fidgets.

“Peter I know you’re doubting me right now. Everyone does at some point. But you have to believe me when I say that I want not only the best for this team, but the best for the only world I can change. Does that make sense?” Tony’s brown eyes were pleading, a shade of humility and compassion Peter hadn’t seen up close. Perhaps this was the twinkle in Mr. Stark’s eyes that made him say yes to Germany all those years ago.

Peter felt his chest heave, but he didn’t remember saying yes. There was a nod from Tony, and then a wink as he took his hand off of Peter and resumed his stance in front of the T.V, stroking his chin in deep thought. He thought he’d heard the man mumble “I’ll figure you out soon enough.”

The following day was normal; as normal as a life being Spider-Man could get.

His villains were standard—robbers and thieves who obviously knew they’d be up against the crime fighting spider, for they held a few tricks up their sleeve.

“Hey, buddy!” Peter yelled, dropping on top of their getaway van with ease, knocking on the driver’s window. “The speed limit here is only thirty-five, you might need to slow down!” He was met with bullets, flipping out of range and back onto the hood of the car. He swung off and landed in front of the car, shooting webs between the two light posts perpendicular to the car. At the speed it was going he only had a few seconds to create a web strong enough to hold back tons of force, or else he’d be sent flying through some skyscrapers.

“C’mon, C’mon,” he jittered, thickening the webs as much as he could. The moment he looked up the headlights were right in front of him, car hurtling at an even faster speed that he wasn’t sure his webs could hold. For a split second there was a shuddering current of fear that passed through Peter, and the next second his stomach bottomed out.

“What the-??” He almost cursed, insides churning at a sudden weightless feeling. He was kneeling down on something purple and solid, but he could see straight through it, the van in pursuit below him. He tapped his finger against the barrier, the surface hard and reflective like glass. It was only then did Peter have the sense to look up, noticing the billowing cloak beside him.

“You have permission to get back down anytime you like,” she said, and Peter swore from under the hood he could see a smile. With her cloak pulled back he could see her costume; a leotard and tights combination that he was certain only worked in comics and cartoons, but the woman didn’t seem to have a scratch on her. The more he studied her, the more he found her familiar.

She seemed to catch his stare, turning her head to meet him and Peter’s nerves flared, choosing to look back down at the chase. A slew of police cars were speeding after the van, and from the passenger’s window something came tumbling out.

“Wait!” Peter screamed, noting the small hand grenade that was tumbling among the police cars. Suddenly they stopped, the cars passing them and the woman stalled.

They were hovering for a split second before she seemed to catch sight of what Peter was yelling about. She turned to him, and with a rushed voice said, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes!” there was no hesitation in his answer, just a loud and clear response before she dropped the barrier. Peter landed on the hood of a police car with grace, watching as the floating figure loomed above the street. Her hands had caught the grenade in a purple bubble, the device exploding within its parameters and before collapsing into nothing.

Peter could only stare, impressed beyond measures before she had caught up to the chase. “Do you want me to help?” she inquired as she pointed to the van, plowing passed lanes of traffic as it sped away. Peter felt frazzled, his nerves on overdrive as news choppers flew overhead, cameras pointed down at the heroes as they whizzed by.

“Can you make a disc, like you did earlier?” he questioned, and in a matter of seconds the girl was pulling Peter onto the platform.

“What’s your plan?” she spoke, speeding up to catch the van.

“I need you to get me way in front of them, and make sure they only go in a straight line. Can you do that?”

“I’ll manage,” she said, before grabbing his hand tightly. “Be careful, this is going to get difficult.”

He didn’t have time to ask what she meant. Her hands closed around his wrist like a vice, and then they were flying; gravity defying flips and turns to avoid the debris that went flying. Peter had felt this feeling before on his own, but her tricks were almost scary without the safety of his webs.

She slowed down before dropping them safely on the ground. Peter set to work on his massive web, while his partner stepped forward. Just as the getaway car swerved to turn, she shot out her hands, creating a wall of purple light. The car veers left, noting the barrier on both sides.

Peter looked up with a grin, but it fades as he notices the girl’s arms shaking, her fingers crooked and strained as she keeps the walls of light. The robbers have slammed the breaks, trying to stop before they reach the spider’s trap, but it’s no use. The car screeched forward, and seconds before she would have gotten hit, the cloaked women fell out of the way, hitting the pavement before Peter can react.

Several things happen all at once: the van sticks to the webbed wall, the volley of police cars wail into existence, all of them curbing to stop before they create pile up. A wave of police officers swarm the scene, apprehending the criminals and shaking hands with Spider-Man. As Peter tries to wade through them, they turn to the spot he’s fixated on, the spot where a woman in a purple cloak should be, but instead its bare, as if no one had ever been there.

“You let her go again?”

Y/N is surprisingly absent from the tower, the only person Peter wanted to see, and the only person who would be able to tone down the glare on Tony’s face. Steve and Natasha, who are surprisingly present, have their arms crossed as they stand on either side of the fuming billionaire. Noticing their expressions, Peter pouts.

“Don’t tell me you’re on his side of this!” Peter says, sulking even lower in his chair. Steve can only sigh, taking in Peter’s cut arms and bruised cheek.

“Take it easy kid, we’re not on anyone’s sides. We’re just analyzing the fight,” he explained, laying a hand on Peter’s shoulder. The boy blinks, looking between the captain and the screens behind him.

“What do you mean analyze. Were you watching me?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but Nat beat him to the punch. “We were, and we still are. The fights’ been filmed and we’re playing it on a loop right now.” The assassin is chewing gum idly, as if Peter’s bewildered face means nothing. Her pink lips curve into a smirk. “Wanna see how you did?”

“No, I don’t. I was there,” Peter replied, his mood sourer than before.

“No need to be pouty, you did pretty well. I mean, the little that you did, it was pretty good,” Natasha teased, blowing a bubble as Steve shot her a look. “What?”

“What she means is,” Steve interjected, surveying everyone’s faces. “Is that this…person has shown a wide variety of powers that are amazing.” The blonde man looked back to the screen Tony couldn’t look away from, being pulled in to a similar trance the longer he stared. “And with that kind of power,”

“Comes responsibility,” Peter finished, effectively gaining three pairs of eyes. Steve’s widened eyes became normal again as he smiled fondly, his shock at Peter’s burst of wisdom wearing off.

“You got it kid,” he said, ruffling the web slinger’s hair as he exited the room, not even sparking a glance backwards. Nat followed, smirking at Peter, but with softer eyes that conveyed affection. The door stayed open as they left, giving Peter the impression that they were eavesdropping.

“Oh, they’re still in the hallway,” Tony confirmed, winking as he turned to face the younger man. “Keeping an eye on me, making sure I don’t come up with anymore crazy plans.” He said this with a type of cynicism that came off as resentment, but Peter didn’t point this out. “They’re also wondering if I’m going to tell you what I think. They don’t believe you should know.”

“Know what?” There was no curiosity in his voice, just a leery tone that makes him edge back into his seat. Tony eyes are sharp, cutting across the room to Peter with deadly precision.

“They—we—think that little miss Kinesis might have gotten her power the same way Wanda did; Loki’s staff.”

The hard truth should have bothered Peter more than the nickname. “Kinesis?” he wondered aloud, making Tony’s serious nature deflate just a hair.

“You’re killing me kid, stay focused,” he snapped, although there was more mirth in his eyes than had been there before. “I came up with that, by the way. Banner came up with ‘Ultraviolet’ and Vision, surprisingly, came up with ‘Prism’. I think he wants someone with a name like his, but not everyone can pull that off.”

“Okay wait,” Peter thought, a little annoyed that he’d gotten Tony so off track. “Didn’t Wanda and Vision get their powers from the same place? And aren’t they on our side?”

“They are now, but Wanda wasn’t always,” Tony grimaced, looking at the floor as his feet shuffled. “But the most concerning part of this theory is that Loki probably didn’t do this himself.”

“But why would he give power to a human?” Peter was simply thinking out loud now, running through every possibility in his head. “Wouldn’t it be more likely that she’s like him? An Asgardian?”

“Ah, but see, that’s even worse,” Tony pressed, his pointer finger poking into the table. “Loki isn’t actually an Asgardian; he’s a frost giant. His magic is not the same as Thor’s. But that’s neither here nor there, considering Loki’s powers on his own only include shape shifting and being really sweaty on earth,” Tony shrugged, now sitting in a chair. “But the staff however, had something else inside.”

“Something with the ability to give people powers. Something Wanda got from H.Y.D.R.A,” his words died after that, a shuddering feeling working its way down his body. Frightened, he looked up at Tony, who wore a mask, lips in a thin straight line as he nodded.

“Another agent to topple empires,” he said in a whisper, as if Steve really was listening outside. Then Tony dramatically cleared his throat, standing to full height. “But, these are only theories.”

Peter still sat in silence, the hypotheses running rampant in his mind. He looked to the screen behind Tony, watching as Kinesis fled the scene, disappearing into thin air. Every theory seemed wrong, even in a world full of power stones and frost giants. The avengers judged everything she did, but Peter couldn’t. He saw her help him, twice. He needed to know why.

“I won’t walk away with nothing next time,” Peter spoke, making Tony pause in the door frame. He looked back at the young avenger, face turned toward the screen and his back hunched in intrigue. There were no more words exchanged as Tony closed the door, shutting Peter in the room, alone.

Nightly watches were Peter’s least favorite part of his job.

They were almost unjustified, considering that from his apartment in Queens, Peter could feel danger almost as well as he could out here. The night was freezing as November rapidly came to a close. He sat atop a building, pacing to keep warm.

The city was a cacophony, sounds meshing together and finishing each other’s trains of thought. Smoke rose high into the sky and lights flickered in and out of existence. The more Peter focused, the less he felt, slipping into a trance as the city hummed under his feet.

He sighed, content. Being a hero in his city beat being an Avenger any day.

Queens had just a grip on him that his danger sense didn’t warn him about the figure floating next to him. It was only when your feet landed (with no caution, to his benefit) did Peter return to the world of the living.

He looked over at her, his heart still beating twice it’s normal pace. Her hands poked out from underneath her, pulling the cloak closer inward for warmth. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Her voice alone was eerie, but Peter didn’t mention that. “I know,” was all he could say back.

“I was wondering if you would like company,” her voice was not at all bashful. Instead when Peter balked at her, she stepped closer to him. “It must be boring and lonely at times up here.”

Her noted her slight change in tone this time around; still powerful, but quieter, as though the gravity of the situation was different between the two statements.

Peter took her offer into consideration. On the one hand, they could hit it off with jokes and laughter, bonding over what, Peter couldn’t fathom. But on the other hand, he could agree and shake hands, only for her to stab him in the back (and hand).

He weighed them both, watching her closely as she stood patiently (too patiently?) for his answer.

“Company is much appreciated,” he told her at last, wanting to at least shake on it, but instead turning back forward. The two of them stood side by side in silence, watching the bustling city below them. Every now and then Peter would cut a glance at her, eyeing her movements with narrowed eyes she couldn’t see.

“What should I call you?” he blurted, not even moving his head to look at her. Peter’s face erupted in heat, an interesting feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach—like butterflies moshing together, their wings beating around and making him breathless.

“What do you want me to be?” She sounded vulnerable, human. Peter looked at her.

“Kinesis,” he said without thinking, before stuttering. “That is, if you don’t have a name already.”

“Kinesis?” she asked, cocking her head with confusion. “I do not follow.”

“No, it’s…a name. You don’t have to choose Kinesis, you could choose…Prism! Or, or Ultraviolet!” He was grasping at straws, trying to explain his mistake to her.

“I meant, what do you want me to be to you,” the way she emphasized you made the butterflies in Peter’s stomach freeze, along with his brain. “A sidekick, a partner,”

“A friend.”

Both of them understood the weight of Peter’s words as they hung there, the two heroes facing each other. After that moment, Kinesis took her hands and pulled down her hood, showing for the first time, a smile.

With the moon at her back, certain features were lost, but the ones that remained transfixed him. Decidedly dark green hair swirled around her shoulders in curls, framing her face. Bangs covered her forehead, but between her eyes rested a jewel, a downward facing crescent of gold. Piercing eyes looked back at him, a color he could not quite decide. She stepped forward again, hand extended for him to shake.

“Alright, Spider-Man. I will try my best.”

In her lowered voice, smiling with more than her mouth, a familiar feeling tugged at Peter, one he didn’t want to place. He had forgotten entirely his promise to Tony, and the theories of her origin. He took her hand, the tips of her fingers cold from the November air, but her palms warm. Taking in the moment, Peter finally grinned back, his excitement apparent in his voice.

“Kinesis, I have a felling this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

tag list: @agentkenziecaptainamerica @winterfellsgreywalls, @girlsandarrows, @bisexualwanda, @1022bridgetp @mountartemis, @thepeterparker

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