#it was pretty short but man i can see myself replaying it a bunch

[retro-system]

BOWSER JR'S PAINTINGS IN THE CREDITS OF BOWSERS FURY WAAAARFGHHH o(-(

[naura-speaks]

Okay tumblr Stays. This is your native territory. If anybody's gonna enjoy this, it's you. From one Stay to another, blow this up...pretty please. I know this ain't tiktok lol.

But yeh I made an English cover of Maniac! I threw some fun little nods to the source material in the visuals (no shut up we're not talking about the members here) and my translation itself.

I'd toss this in a reblog, but I don't especially want it to get lost if someone wants to see it. Here are some more deets on how I made it!

I speak like. twenty words in Korean, so I did not directly translate it from the og lyrics myself. HOWEVER. What I did do was take the English subs from the MV along with a bunch of other lyric videos and translations (and sometimes I even looked up translations of specific words) in order to get a good picture of the original intention of the lyrics, with obvious priority given to the official translation from the MV. Then I tried to figure out how to make that singable in English. Some of it, I could keep nearly the same as the original subs, but other parts translate more awkwardly, so I took some creative license while trying not to take that too far.

Not gonna cap with you, I am not that experienced of a producer, and anybody who is will probably know that right off the bat. Part of the point of this was to force a learning experience on myself by RPing as 3racha for a bit 😂 Hence why I didn't try to come up with my own arrangement, but literally replicate every. single. sound from the original audio. If Maniac has 175M views, I'm 175 of them just from trying to make this dang thing. And that's before I wised up and just ripped the audio to insert as an audio track in my Logic session to hear it side by side rather than replaying parts of the MV every dang time it can't be illegal if I own the literal CD. Seriously though, I came out of this project knowing way more producing stuff than I had before, and I'm really proud of myself for that.

Those two are the big things, but in other fun facts, the pic I used for myself in the video was taken directly after I got back to the hotel after going to their Newark D2 concert! Were there other pics I probably could have used? Ones where the bottom half of my hair isn't approximately the color of seaweed? Sure. But it's the principle of it, man. It's the principle. and hey at least I matched with Minho for a short bit

Catastrophe is a way better producer than me and a super sweet guy, so it was really great to have him look over my work and help out with a few things, on top of his contributions as a featured artist 😭 And though JoePav's part in the cover was tiny, his enthusiasm in the project and its progress has been mighty and appreciated beyond words! When you don't have a big following, it can be a bit harder to get excited about your own work sometimes, so having somebody else get excited on your behalf is contagious and really nice 😊

I stayed up on 3/17-18/22 to listen to Oddinary when it dropped at midnight, and I started my lyric translation the very next day. I'd say the next morning, but I think I had classes. But I was vibrating that entire morning because despite having been a kpop fan for a good year at that point, Oddinary was the first album I'd bought, and it got delivered that day when it wasn't supposed to come for days yet. It was also my first anticipated skz comeback. By technicality, I'd probably been a Stay since somewhere around Kingdom by pure happenstance, but I was in denial I was as deep in the hole as I was, so I didn't call myself a Stay until after NOEASY. BAHAHAHAHA so much denial, but also so much gradual falling into Stayville because I did in fact listen through the whole album within a week of it coming out.

This got so off topic, how did it get so off topic

I remember listening to Maniac for the first time and just feeling so at home with the lyrics of it. Like even if I didn't end up covering it, it was a message that resonated so much with me and with one of the main messages I like to communicate in my own lyrics and as a person: normal is overrated. Yeah, sure, it's kind of been tossed around nerd communities so much that it almost sounds like a pick me at this point, but like, being comfortable enough with "being yourself" to act a little weird in public is a bigger feat than people give it credit for. And yep, it's one of the biggest reasons I stan Stray Kids. They're a bunch of unapologetic weirdos, and it feels like home. I like to say that they feel like family, both in the straightforward understanding of the phrase and because they often act like my literal blood family does. Like a bunch of nutcases.

And now that I've spent a literal hour or more on this brain dump (why. why did I do that.) I will let this post and myself go to bed after using my resin in genshin. Hope it was interesting enough, and if not, oh well. At least my brain has been thoroughly emptied.

[1kook]

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.  warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.  

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.  

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?” 

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.  

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence. 

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[ptergwen]

the last time

warnings: angst and swearing

summary: here

-

“in order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love.”

it feels like your stomach just dropped all the way down the cliff you’re standing on. peter grips your arm, pulling you away from the cloaked man. you know what you have to do.

your dad sent you and peter to vormir to get the soul stone. they’d both been to space once before this, and it didn’t end well. they were lucky to survive. most of the universe didn’t. now you have the chance to fight for the same thing they did. the other avengers needed all the help they could get to pull this off, so here you are.

you’ll hopefully be able to bring everyone back. you just didn’t realize you’d have to die for them to live.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, y/n. don’t listen to him.” peter rubs up and down your arm to calm you down, squinting his eyes at the man. you give him a halfhearted smile. all the words are stuck in your throat. you know he’s right, that one of you has to go. you’re not going to let it be peter.

you turn to face him with the same sad look. he shakes his head a bunch of times before you can say anything. “it’s true, peter. you know how nebula said gamora was here and never came back? he must have had to sacrifice her.” “no. no way. she... she could’ve gone somewhere else after-“

you cup both of peter’s cheeks, willing him to look at you. he puts his hands on top of yours and meets your eyes. nodding, you smooth your thumb across his skin gently.

“peter...” your voice breaks. you wanted to be strong for him, but it’s all hitting you at once. this is the last time you’ll see him. this is the last time you’ll see anyone.

“there’s gotta be another way, right? we’ll figure it out. you’re so smart. i know you can think of something.” he’s in denial. “no, peter. i can’t. i’m not my dad.” you let out a teary laugh, sniffling a bit. peter pulls you into his chest and holds you tightly against him. your arms hug his middle after a few seconds.

this is it. your final goodbye. you’ve been with peter for years, seen each other at your worst moments. nothing compares to what you’re going through right now. it’s never been so hard to let him go.

he presses his lips to your hair, which only makes you cry more. you’re finally able to pull away from his chest and crash your lips into his one last time. hands grasping at your waist, he kisses you back with tears running down his own cheeks. it’s messy and salty and heartbreaking, but it’s you guys. you wipe at the tear stains on peter’s suit and give him one more peck on his cheek.

“i love you the most, y/n. you know that, right? i’m so fucking in love with you,” peter chokes out, pressing his forehead against yours. you take a shaky breath and put your hands on his cheeks again. “i know, pete. i love you so much. so, so much.” you stay like that until both of you silently agree it’s time.

“now that you’ve said your goodbyes,” the red skull chimes in, “which one of you is it going to be?”

“me,” you and peter both say at the same time. huh? he looks at you with wide eyes. you’re just as confused as he is for once. “y/n, what? i thought we both decided it was gonna be me.” “no, that’s what i thought. you’re not doing this.”

the red skull sighs impatiently from behind you.

“please, y/n. i made a promise to your dad that i’d keep you safe out here. i can’t break that.” “i promised myself i wouldn’t let you die.” you give him a stern look. “maybe this is me dealing with some self-sacrificial stark shit right now, but i can’t break that either.”

ignoring everything you just said, peter moves to put his mask back on. you take it out of his hand. “uh, what the hell?” “peter, you‘re gonna do amazing things. you already do now. i can’t imagine what you’ll accomplish in ten years, or even one. you‘re not going yet.” he squeezes his eyes shut. “stop that. you will, too. just give me my mask back, y/n.”

you throw your hands up in disbelief, still holding it. “being rich isn’t amazing, peter! you have more going for you than i do. admit it.” he can’t help but frown at what you’re saying. this shouldn’t be your last memory together.

“baby, what are you talking about? you got to join the team, you make awesome high-tech stuff, you’re a genius. come on.” “here’s your mask.” you shove it into his hand, letting your touch linger for a moment. “i really do love you more than anything.” you suddenly make a run for the edge of the cliff before peter anticipates it.

he moves fast and shoots a web to pull you back, rushing over to you. “oh my god, y/n! what are you thinking?” “i’m thinking you need to get the stone. don’t worry about me.” you get yourself back up, only for peter to push you down again. so, he wants to fight you for this.

you knee his stomach from the ground so he falls over, taking the opportunity to jump for real. peter manages to lean over and shoot a taser web at you before you go too far. that one stings. you yelp and hold your arm where he got you, but you’re not giving up that easy.

“sorry, babe. didn’t mean to hurt you,” peter calls out, getting back on his feet. you walk the short distance over to him. “i’m doing this because i love you, okay? that’s all.” he whispers to you. with a fake smile, you take his hand. peter thinks that means you’re done. then, you use it to flip him onto his back. he groans in pain, not trying to get up this time.

now that he’s out for good, it’s really happening. you’re at peace with what you have to do. you take one final look at peter and start running. you run until you get to the edge of the cliff. peter must’ve realized what’s going on because you hear him calling your name. you forgot how much endurance he has in him.

“y/n, y/n stop!” he yells, already behind you. you stay put. “it shouldn’t be you! listen to me, it’s not too late to change your mind.” you don’t bother turning around to see him. you’ll give in if you do. “remember what i said, pete. all of it.”

with that, your heart beating hard in your ears, you throw yourself off the edge of the cliff. peter uses everything in him to web you to the side, but he can only get one out, so you grab onto a rock. not because you changed your mind. because you owe him a real final goodbye.

“wh- how am i out? i’ll come get you, just- fuck.” peter leans over the edge, looking down at you with watery eyes. you hold up his extra web cartridge and smile sadly. you took it when you were hugging earlier since you had a feeling he’d try to stop you.

“it’s okay, peter. you’ll be okay.” “y/n-“ you let go of the rock and fall fast, hitting the ground while peter cries out. “no!” he grips at the crumbling ground where you first jumped. your lifeless body is staring up at him. he could’ve stopped this. he drops to his knees as a loud sob racks through him, still looking down at you.

“no,” his voice is quiet, small, out of energy and broken. there’s no one here to dry his tears anymore.

-

peter isn’t sure how it happened, but he wakes up underwater. he pulls his head up with a cough. his eyes still feel puffy, so he couldn’t have been out too long. there’s something glowing in his hand. slowly, he opens his shaking hand and immediately recognizes what it is. the soul stone. red skull was right. peter lost who he loves all for a stupid fucking stone.

-

the whole team arrives back at the avengers facility at the same time, like bruce said they would. everyone seems so happy. thor got mjölnir back, scott is buzzing over steve, tony is laughing at one of nat’s jokes. tony. how is peter supposed to tell him what happened? his kid died, and it’s peter’s fault. he bursts into tears again at the thought of it. he’s surprised he even has more left in him.

tony is the first to notice. “parker, what’s wrong? why isn’t y/n with you?” the rest of the team rushes over to him. peter chokes out a sob, everything replaying in his head.

“she- she.” he can hardly breathe let alone speak. tony puts a hand on his shoulder. “kid, you’re scaring me. i can’t fix it unless you tell me what‘s up.” he waves for everyone else to back up so peter has space. bruce and nat share a look. “she’s gone, mr. stark! she’s not here. i re- i really messed up.”

peter throws the stone that he’s been holding at the floor. silently, rocket picks it up.

somehow understanding what he means, tony pulls peter in for a hug. he hurts like hell too, but this kid needs him right now. peter has always had a habit of blaming himself for things he can’t control. tony is pretty sure this is one of those things. he hugs him back as tight as he can.

“i’m so sorry, mr. stark. i’m so sorry.”

-

five years later and peter is numb. another stark left him, and he sort of gave up in life. at 21 years old. without a mentor, he got lost in the superhero world. spider-man went from being an avenger to party entertainment for kids. it’s an easy way to make money. the people loved him before, they’ll love him again. all he does now is book birthday parties and drink the nights away.

the only emotion peter still feels is anger. he hates the world and he hates what he’s done, or hasn’t done. every time he puts on that mask, it reminds him of the night you died. he has to fight the urge to rip it to shreds. if he didn’t need to pay the bills, he would’ve at this point. most of all, he resents himself for letting you down.

you sacrificed yourself for peter to lead a full life, and look what he’s done with it. he’s a drunk loser. that’s not what you wanted for him.

one day, it all changes.

there’s a knock at peter’s door. he grumbles something about paying his rent, expecting it to be his landlord. he opens it to find you instead. thinking he’s had too much to drink, he shuts the door in your face. you‘re a little bit shocked, but you knock again.

“um, peter? that’s you in there, right? pretty sure you’re the only peter parker in queens.” you call from the hallway. “whoever’s trying to fuck with me, just get out of here. i’m not in the mood today.” he flops back down on his couch, taking a sip of his nearly finished beer. you’re already fed up, so you open the door yourself.

“i said-“ he shuts up when you sit down next to him. “are you real? you can’t be... you died years ago.” “peter.” you take his hands. he’s confused, but lets you. it’s weird seeing him, both of you being adults now. you’ll have to get used to it.

“when you brought everyone back, it worked for me too.” he stares at you with his mouth hanging open for a minute. “that’s not possible. we did that a few days after you... you know.” “i know it sounds insane, but i came back on vormir. i had to find a way back to earth, which took a really long time. i’ve been looking for you since then. there’s no perfect way for me to explain all of this, but i promise it’s really me.”

you being here, it’s like peter was in a five year trance and he snapped out of it.

he throws his arms around you, you laughing and threading your fingers through his matted curls. he’s convinced you’ll disappear again if he lets you go, so he holds you even tighter.

“y/n, baby. oh my god. i missed you so much. i’m sorry it’s such a mess here.” you wind your arms around his neck. “you haven’t changed a bit, pete.” “i brought you back, you brought me back.”

[toastedside]

Valentine Blurbs

Batboys (+ Bruce) Valentine Blurbs.

Note: Happy valentine! It’s a month full of love, meaning I can find reason and indulge myself in these fic while pouring my heart for my boys. I hope you find the warmth of love and a little bit of happiness in this.

Prompt: Different ways to say I love you.

Bruce – “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

The ballroom was lavish, gold and black glittered around the room like a prideful emperor march around the city. It was filled with people dressed like they’re going to flaunt everything they have in their pocket, polite laughter and chatter mixed together in the air. You smiled politely as you tried your best to follow Mrs. Harris’s conversation about whatever it is about the latest gossips of the Gotham Elite. She’s an old lady that never learn how to stick her nose into where it belongs, and you hate to admit that some of her stories are indeed interesting.

Champagne on your hand was half empty, and your feet started to get hurt from standing too long. Even after a long way of attending galas and rich parties alike, you’d never get used to it. Maybe you get better at it, sure, but galas are suffocating and painfully exhausting.

You excused yourself after finishing your champagne, eyes darted around to find a slightest sight of your husband. It no longer surprised you, or anyone really, that he had a knack to slip away undetected from this kind of event. You walked through the empty and dark hallways, knowing exactly where he would be as your feet brought you into the balcony.

“I believe we have guests and party to attend, Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him as you inhaled the cold breeze. It was a welcomed change from the suffocating ballroom.

You saw Bruce’s lips twisted upwards. His hand stretched out in a silent invitation for you to join him, in which you gratefully accepted. “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

“It’s an important one. We worked days and night for this.”

“There’s no way to convince you to sneak out from this party, no?” he raised an eyebrow. You wanted nothing but to scowl at him for able to read you like an open book.

“If we go back a little while for ten minutes top, you’d get to hang out with me alone for the rest of the night.”

Bruce smiled. So wide and bright that you were sure the moon above was ashamed of his smile alone. He pulled you gently closer to him, planted a soft kiss into your hairline as he muttered, “Sounds good to me.”

Dick – “I dreamt about you last night.”

Dick pressed his phone lazily into his ear. His eyes still closed as he battling away the drowsiness that kept pulling him in and out of sleep. He could feel the sunlight slowly seeped into his room through the blinds as he listened patiently to the monotone ring on his phone.

“Hello?” you answered after the fifth ring. He figured you’d be out for work by now, but he couldn’t risk to wait for another minute. He smiled as soon as your voice blessed his ear.

“Hey babe,” he greeted. Voice still thick with sleep. “I dreamt about you last night.”

He could hear your breathless chuckle, as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs out of surprise. His lips involuntarily tilted upwards upon hearing your chuckle. Dick reckoned it’s a muscle memory at this point that the corner of his mouth would immediately turn upwards at the sound of your laughter.

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” you asked. Dick could hear the wide smile on your face. He closed his eyes and the image of you smiling with raised eyebrows popped inside his brain.

“You.”

“Hmm, I hope it was a nice one.”

“It was!” he said as he sat up on his bed. Suddenly felt more awake as his brain wrecked hard to replayed the pleasant dream he had. “I slept good and happy. Thanks to you.”

Jason – ���I did the dishes.”

Truth to be told, you didn’t know what to expect. You hadn’t had any particular expectation upon how your day would end up be like. The exam waiting for you in two days and endless list of deadlines had been the only thought that plagued your mind. Eating you alive as you tried to hold into the strands of sanity you had left.

You didn’t expect Jason to show up, standing in your kitchen with a sheepish smile as he said, “I did the dishes.”

To think about it, you just realize you haven’t seen him in three days.

You blinked at him. Brain still unable to process the event displayed in front of you. You had come out from your room and head to the kitchen to grab an ice cream. Instead, you found a tall man stood in front of your kitchen sink and your three-days’ worth of dirty dishes done. All squeaky clean and neatly tucked in the cabinet.

“Why?” was the only thing your exhausted brain managed to muster.

Jason shrugged. “I know your study can be overwhelming. Especially since exam week is coming.”

Suddenly, the thought of him filled your brain to the brim. There was no such room for words. Only overflowing thought of him and the feelings you harboured in your chest. Jason stared at you alarmingly, his eyes wide.

“I am sorry,” his voice was above whisper. “Did I upset you?”

You shook your head as you let out a wet chuckle. You hadn’t realized you had been crying. There’s no other place you’d rather be than his arms right now, so you headed straight away into your desired destination. You felt Jason relaxed underneath your touch, and you felt him smile as you captured his lips as you wordlessly said thank you.

Tim – “It reminds me of you.”

No, he had no reason. His eyes merely caught the glimpse of periwinkle and baby’s breath on his way for photo hunting. So bright and pure underneath the sunlight, tucked in the middle of concrete jungle. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert, bright and cheery and inviting. Almost looking like it was out of place.

Tim had subconsciously walked himself towards the flower shop. His camera in his hand, eyes staring straight into the periwinkle and baby’s breath placed next to one another. He couldn’t understand why he had held his breath upon such a mundane sight.

Flowers in a flower shop. Yet it was the most mesmerizing sight he had seen all day.

“What’s the occasion?” you let out a surprised laugh as he showed up and presented a bouquet of periwinkle and baby’s breath.

Tim pressed his lips together. He couldn’t put the dots on why he did what he did. Surprisingly enough he was content with the gnawing fact he had act on his impulse to bought you a bouquet of flowers. It was mesmerizing, beautiful, and he was left in stunned silence upon seeing it for the first time.

You looked up from your present to meet his eyes. A smile still persistently painted across your face. Tim sucked a breath in and held it altogether. Beautiful, he silently thought to himself, almost like it strung out of nowhere. A beauty in a such misshaped place his room is.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning in the daylight. He smiled as he shook his head. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic boyfriend in the whole world, but he would be dammed not to let you know.

“Nothing. It reminds me of you.”

Duke – “Call me when you get home.”

You watched him pouting from the doorframe. You had to physically restrain yourself from pulling him into your embrace and smoothen out the pout on his lips. But knowing Duke, that probably would end up cost you another hour of him clinging into your side.

Duke watched you with arms folded in front of his chest. He looked so mesmerizing underneath the twilight. The sky above was a hue of orange and pink, a hint of black appeared on the line of horizon. Yet your eyes locked into his.

“Stop pouting!” you reprimanded him with a laugh. “You’ve hogged my attention for two days.”

“You’re absolutely mental if you think it was enough.”

“I have my own apartment,” you pointed out, “that I need to occasionally visit and clean.”

Duke knew it was true. He always knew when to back out and when to stood on his feet from an argument with you. Something he had learned fairly fast and well enough. You watched him shook his head with a smile.

“Come here,” he said as he spread his arms. “Give me one last kiss before you go.”

You complied with rolled eyes. His embrace was warm and inviting, you almost not want to let go. He leaned closer to capture your lips and you met him halfway. It was a quick and short one, left you wanting for more.

“Call me when you get home.”

Damian – “I hope you like it.”

Damian clutched a small canvas to his side. He frowned at the sensation of his heart thump inside his ribcage painfully. The sound of loud chatter of his classmates had been drowned by the ringing on his ear. His fingertips felt uncharacteristically cold. Was it the air conditioner?

He let out a quiet sigh. Was it the symptom of flu? Did he accidentally got exposed to a poison during his patrol? He was pretty sure he was fine in the morning. Days before that as well. So, what’s with the pounding heart?

His eyes darted around the packed hallway; mouth pressed together as he silently muttering your name. It was a tedious and hard job to find a person in a packed crowd, let alone a bunch of loud students on a break in a school hallway.

“Damian, hey!” it was you who had spotted him at first. Looked around like a lost and kicked puppy in the middle of a bustling city.

It has always been a funny thing between you two that he hadn’t understand. For some reason, you always had a knack to spot him in a bustling crowd when he hadn’t able to spot you. One thing that escalated almost immediately as soon as friendship blossomed between you and him. He approached you silently, the coldness on the tip of his finger had spread throughout his arms.

“I made you this,” he said as he discreetly shoved a small canvas into your hand. It was a beautiful painting of Alfred’s rose bushes in the garden. He had vaguely recalled you nonchalantly said wanting to see a rose bush in person. “I hope you like it.”

Damian immediately walked away towards his next class before you had a chance to speak. He knew eventually he had to talk about his painting and let you properly said thank you. But for now he would need to find a place to tame his erratic heart and his cold fingers.

[spellbound-banshee]

And You Kissed Me - Peter Parker

Summary: You’re the one to make the first move after MJ tells you that Peter likes you. Of course she would be the one to tell you.

Warnings: lots of fluff, unwanted flirting, some physical violence

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x Reader

“You don’t know what you’re talking about MJ.” You waved her off, anxiously eating your lunch as you processed the new - and probably false - information.

“I always know what I’m talking about,” her response seemed effortless, “he’s definitely into you, have you noticed the way he ogles over you? It’s like a 90s movie where everything just sort of slows down and there’s a love song in the background.” You chuckled at the somewhat specific reference, but nevertheless continued to deny it internally. “You have to face the facts and make a move, it’s honestly a sin that you guys aren’t together.”

“Who said I liked him?” You asked, your mouth halfway stuffed with food as you saw the boy in question begin to walk over with his tray.

“You didn’t have to.” MJ just smirked and took a bite of her apple as Peter got closer. “Face it, he’s not going to make a move. And what’s the worst that could happen if you just... make one yourself?”

You were about to respond but just as you opened your mouth Peter set down his tray with a bit of a suspicious glance. “Are you guys talking about some girl stuff because I could just... walk away.” You just smiled and shook your head, hearing MJ chuckle at the chemistry you two clearly had. 

“Not at all, please do sit.” Peter smiled sheepishly and sat down in front of you, where he always sat. You weren’t aware of the fact that he sat there just to look at you and feel like he was actually having a conversation, but Peter and MJ knew. Which is why as soon as Peter looked back at his tray, MJ mouthed ‘make a move’, and you responded with a harsh glare.

-

“Hey, Peter?” You walked up to his locker as he was taking out the last of his things. He seemed surprised by your voice and shut his locker a bit so he could see you - you seemed to grow increasingly beautiful each period.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you doing anything right now? Like after school?” He swallowed harshly, he wasn’t sure what your intention was and he could literally never say no to you... but with his patrol he wasn’t sure if- “I was just wondering if you’d want to take the bus with me. There’s this dude on there and he’s... been kinda freaking me out but I don’t have any other way home.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to be your hero. “Oh, yeah, of course. Who is he? Did he like... touch you or hurt you because I’ll-”

“Easy there, tough guy.” You chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder. Though you weren’t showing it, your heart was literally beating out of your chest as you replayed your plan over and over in your head. “It’s fine, he’s just overly flirty.” Peter let his guard down a bit but he would make sure he didn’t make you uncomfortable today. His chest swelled with pride in knowing that you felt safe around him, and his smile brightened at the thought.

Once you got to the bus, Peter was on guard. And you could definitely tell based on how stiff he was. “Okay Superman, listen.” His eyes darted to your face at the sound of your voice, his features softening as he looked down at you. “It’s okay, relax. I can handle myself I just feel like... maybe he’d leave me alone if I actually had a friend with me.” Peter felt his heart sink at the mention of ‘friend’ but once again, he nodded and tried to relax.

And your bus finally arrived, where you led Peter to the back of the bus, you usually there sat by yourself with a book and a pair of headphones. You smiled back at him as he walked shyly behind you, not having been on a bus for a while since he could literally swing himself home and take the sub in the morning. Peter sat with you in the back, taking the aisle seat as he figured he could potentially block you from... he didn’t know what, it just felt better.

That’s when Peter heard it: “Hi again, hot stuff.” He felt you shift in your seat as his friends behind him laughed and practically egged him on.

“Bradley, not today please.” You rolled your eyes, continuing to look out of the window as the bus started to move. Peter looked up at the senior, his dark hair was pushed back into a snapback and he wore a letterman jacket with school colors. He wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue, figuring you could handle yourself until it got too uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong baby girl?” Ugh, even he felt uncomfortable hearing that. “Come on, let me bring you to one of my games and you could... watch me win.” Peter cringed a bit, not wanting to sink into his seat but seeing you there just brushing it off made him feel like he could too.

“Yeah, I’d love to see you wrestle around with a bunch of dudes in the dirt.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, knowing it wasn’t going to stop even if Peter was there. “Please just... leave me alone.”

“If I do will you let me take you out?” Peter felt his body heat up, clearly this dude didn’t know what the word ‘no’ meant or how to properly talk to women. That’s probably why he couldn’t land one, the thought almost mode him smirk but he kept it down. “Oh come on, baby. Lemme take you out, I’ll show you a good time during...” He reached over his seat and started to reach for your hair, “and after.”

“Hey man, she said leave her alone.” Peter said, smacking his hand away before he could touch her - he also stood up so he could be level with Bradley, even though he stumbled a bit due to the motion of the bus.

“Don’t touch me, geek. She knows she wants it... she’s just in denial.” The way he looked at you nearly sent Peter into a frenzy, and you could tell from the way his breathing started to pick up. “Get out of my face.” The jock shoved Peter against the wall of the bus, and it didn’t hurt that bad due to his strength but it still startled him a bit. Now some heads were turning.

“Don’t fucking touch him.” You stood up, putting a hand in front of Peter as you saw him getting ready to launch at the jock. “Let it go.” You said softly, and from the way you were looking at him, he let out a breath and tried to calm down. “Come on, we can just walk the rest of the way.” Taking Peter’s hand, you began to lead him down the aisle with wobbly footing, knowing it would be worth it.

“So lame, the geek needs a girl to protect him.” Before Peter could even turn around you shoved past him and slapped Bradley directly across the face, hearing some cringes and ‘oohs’ from around the bus.

“Peter doesn’t need anyone to protect him. If anything I was protecting you from a fucking broken nose.” Peter just felt himself smile, seeing the jock having to recover from the force of the slap. His eyes also widened from seeing this new side of you, this defensive side, especially over him - it managed to be cute and hot at once. Stop it, now isn’t the time.

“I know you don’t actually need this bus to get home, but I do. So the next time I get on this bus, your ass better be walking to your fucking house.” Peter just stood there in sort of an awkward position, but unable to keep his eyes off of you and your angered figure. “And if I hear any more complaints about you harassing women on this campus, I will literally kick you into next Sunday, got it?” Bradley didn’t need to say anything, you knew it was more of a rhetorical question, so you grabbed Peter’s hand and practically stomped down the aisle. 

Your ears were ringing from the energy that rage took to get out, but you swore you heard some claps and cheers emerged from the bus seats.

-

“Thanks, by the way.” You said as Peter walked you to your house, even though you insisted he didn’t have to do that. It was a stupid insist for many reasons. 1, of course he wouldn’t leave you to walk alone. And 2, where else would be go?

“F-For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think I would’ve done that if you weren’t there. And when he touched you I just... something clicked.” Peter just nodded, holding on to the straps of his backpack as he walked slowly beside you towards the complexes. It would be a long way, but it was worth it if he got to talk to you. “Sorry for making a scene. I just... I get defensive.”

“I’m just happy you stood up for yourself,” Peter smiled at you, “you don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but I’m positive you scared him, so it should be over.” You nodded, smiling sheepishly back at him, and once again he refused to make eye contact. “And uh... if it doesn’t and you.... want help I can... help you, y’know if you want.” You thought it was cute, the way he seemed to get nervous around you, and of course you just thought it was his natural awkwardness, but MJ made it apparent that’s not what anyone else thought.

“Thanks, Parker. I can always count on you.” And then there was a short pause, where all you could hear was passing cars and the sound of your shoes clicking against pavement. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh yeah, don’t worry about me. It didn’t hurt that bad, for someone so big and labelled as ‘tough’ you’d think he’d shove harder.” You laughed, throwing your head back against the wind and Peter just admired you with a loving glance. He almost couldn’t stand how beautiful you were, there wasn’t one thing to fixate on, everything about you just stood out to him and it was blinding.

“You’re funny, I think I’ll keep you.” Now it was his turn to laugh, and yours to admire. You had to admit he was one of the cutest kids at your school, which made you wonder why girls weren’t practically throwing themselves at him. Sure, he was considered ‘nerdy’ and he was pretty awkward, but he didn’t deserve the pushback he got for it. Peter liked Star Wars and building computers, and cheesy pop culture references, but he was one of the smartest people you knew. He was also the sweetest guy you’d ever met. He seemed like the whole package.

By the time you actually got to your house nearly an hour had passed, but it felt like nothing since it was filled with laughter and unknown loving glances. You spent most of it gaging how you should continue with your plan... how and if you should continue with it.

“Okay, this is me.” You smiled, guesturing towards the upper floors of the tall apartment building you lived at. Of course he knew, he’d been over a few times to help with homework where nothing ever got done, you ended up watching movies together on the couch and eating May’s awful cooking. “Thank you, honestly you didn’t have to come with me.” 

As you pulled him in for a hug, he chuckled lightly against your shoulder. “It was my pleasure honestly, I love hanging out with you.” You smiled at that, your heart pounding in your chest as the internal battle of thoughts began. “Thanks, by the way.” He said, pulling away from you and you gave him a curious tilted look. “For calming me down. It’s hard sometimes with me but you always manage to do it and i never properly-”

You kissed him. You were barely paying attention to anything he was saying you just... kissed him. As quickly as you had pecked him, you pulled away with a look of shock on your face, attempting to apologize profusely but the words were stuck in your throat. “...and... you kissed me.” He was just as shocked as you were, and you stood there in heavy awkward silence for a couple of seconds before you blurted:

“Yeah I uh... I’m sorry. I just... I like you. A lot.” You regretted the words the instant they came out, seeming to turn pale as the embarrassment and shame washed over you.

“What?” There it was, the inevitability of rejection - you felt overwhelmed with emotion, all of the worst thoughts beginning to take over your mind and heart. You were about to start crying until he uttered: “(Y/n)... I-I really like you too.” Your head shot up at his words, and he was almost surprised at how shocked you were. “(Y/n) I’ve literally... had a crush on you since... god, since elementary school.”

“Y-You have?”

“Yes! I-I thought it was obvious but... I figured you didn’t like me back so I didn’t say anything about it when we actually became friends because I didn’t want to mess anything up but...” He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled, once again unable to make eye contact with you. “(Y/n), can I kiss you?”

Without a response, you just closed the distance you’d created by drawing back and pressed your lips against his. He was a bit surprised at the sudden contact but he tried not to hesitate, returning the kiss as softly as he could. Your hands grabbed both sides of his face, you could cry at how much raw passion and emotion you had bottled up inside. 

Peter felt your sudden urge grow and he felt himself beginning to match it, years and years of frustration, pure adoration and... love just pouring out at once. You opened your mouth and Peter felt your tongue slide into his, nearly pulling back at the sudden surprise but something about it just felt right. This was Peter’s first kiss, but he didn’t know - and couldn’t tell - that it was yours as well.

You pulled back for air, both of you wide eyed and staring at each other before breaking into giggles. Peter didn’t want to let go of you but he gave you space, you both needed to catch your breath. “Do you uh...” You chuckled at yourself, deciding fuck it and just going for it, “do you wanna get something to eat?”

Peter smiled endearingly, still love drunk from your lips and unable to focus on anything but you and your blinding glow. “Like... like right now?”

“Fuck it, right? Let’s just... let’s just get something to eat.” Peter chuckled at your state bliss, the love in his heart for you just growing more and more with each second he looked at you. “Yeah?” You asked, hopeful when you saw him smile.

“Yeah! Yeah, l-let’s go.” You two didn’t have a plan, but that’s what he liked about it - you lived in New York so you could basically stop anywhere nearby and get something cheap. And you felt alive, with Peter any moment felt new and rousing, and even though you didn’t know where you stood label wise, you decided to enjoy this moment.

Peter’s hard practically stopped when he felt your hand take his, smiling down at you as you showed him your brightest smile. He already felt so comfortable around you, as if you’d been dating for many years, and even though he didn’t know where you two stood label wise, he decided to enjoy this moment.

He hoped for many more years by your side. If you’d have him, of course.

-

taglist: @averyfosterthoughts

[kpop---scenarios]

Stolen Heart (5)

Previous Chapters

Warnings: Bit of Violence

Word Count: 1.6k 

The second you and Baekhyun made it through the back door and into the alley, two of Jinyoung’s men cornered you, leaving you without any options. 

“Boss!” One of them yells.

The backdoor swings open again, and out walks a smug looking Jinyoung. 

“Ahh, there you are.” He smiles, eyeing you up and down. 

Baekhyun pulls the sleeve of your jacket, bringing you behind him before he places his hand on the gun he kept in the waist of his jeans. 

“What do you want Jinyoung?” Baekhyun snaps, keeping an eye on the men that surrounded the two of you. 

“I really just want one thing.” He says. “Her.” He fishes, pointing to you. 

“That’s not happening.” Baekhyun snaps. 

“What?” Jinyoung laughs. “Has the almighty, king of drugs found a weakness? Some good pussy has you wrapped up around her little finger? Is that it.” Jinyoung asks. “If so, I’d like to try it for myself.”

Baekhyun’s body visually tenses as Jknyojng continues to speak about you. However, the second you thought Baekhyun might care with how he reacted, the thought is ripped away by his next sentence. 

“You want her? Take her. Nothing but a quick fuck anyways.” Baekhyun spits, pulling you from behind him and shoving you towards an eager Jinyoung. 

You look at Baekhyun, you’re shocked. How could he just give you up just like that? Without any care? 

“Glad you do have a brain after all, Byun.” Jinyoung smiles. “Lets go.” He says to his men, grabbing your wrist and dragging you away. 

You turn your head, looking at the man who betrayed you one last time, when he winks at you and nods his head. 

How the hell were you supposed to know what that meant? 

Maybe he would come for you? You Could only hope. You didn’t want to spend anymore time with that psychopath than necessary. 

You decided not to fight the men who held onto your arm as you walked away from a confusing Baekhyun, seeing as he apparently didn’t want you after fucking you. Maybe that’s all he wanted? Maybe he was truly unobtainable and that was the most you would ever get from him. Due to the situation you were currently in, you probably should have listened to Lisa all those weeks ago and left him alone. Just thanked him for helping you with the drunken man who wouldn’t take no as an answer and moved on. 

But it was a little late now. 

“What?” Jinyoung snaps, answering his phone. “Race? Tonight? Yeah we’ll be there. And I’ve got the perfect prize.” He smirks, looking back at you. 

** 

Pulling up to a house, your stomach is in knots as Jinyoung’s words replay over in your head. “The perfect prize.” Surely he wasn’t referring to you.. you weren’t a prize.. you couldn’t be. 

“Lets go.” One of his men sniped, yanking on your arm to get you out of the van. 

You walk into the grand house, eyes scanning over everything, when they land on a familiar face. 

“Yugyeom?” You laugh, seeing a friend you had known since high school. 

“Y/N?” He asks with a giant smile. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”

“Jinyoung took me from me.. friend.” You say through gritted teeth. “I don’t really know to be honest. He saw me and then took me. It’s been a weird day.” You admit. 

“And you didn’t think of trying to fight or anything?” He asks. 

“A bunch of dudes with guns vs me and my friend, who only had a gun didn’t seem like very good odds.” You admit. “It’s not so bad, since you’re here.” You smile. 

“Yugyeom, get her ready for the prize tonight.” A man tells him. Looking at his face, it goes pale as he processes what he was told. 

“Jackson.. c'mon man, she’s a friend. Can we not?” He asks. 

“Bosses orders.” Jackson says, shrugging his shoulders before walking away. 

“I don’t want to.” You whisper. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can to keep you safe for now but I don’t have a choice.” He sighs, taking your arm to bring you upstairs. 

** 

When you’re done, you’re extremely uncomfortable. Your make-up is heavy, dark and bold. Your dress is short, cut out and not something you would typically wear. 

“Please Yuggy.. don’t let him do this.” You whisper, tears threatening to fall down your face. 

“Sorry Y/N..” Yugyeom sighs, bringing you downstairs and placing you in Jinyoung’s office, where you now wait to go to the races, where you were going to be traded as a prize. You really wished you knew what Baekhyun was doing right now and if he had any plans to save you. 

** 

Baekhyun had come up with a plan the moment you walked away from him. The second that van drove off, he ran to his car, dialing a number as he whipped out of the parking space. 

“Let me know what’s on the table for the race tonight as soon as you find out.” He snaps before tossing his phone onto the passenger seat. He should have taken you away from there the moment that Jinyoung left instead of thinking with his cock. But he knew Jinyoung well enough, not to mention that he had a habit of finding pretty girls and using them as trophies or prizes during races. Mostly because he won and got to keep them anyways but Baekhyun couldn’t let that happen to you. 

He didn’t want to like you, but he did. However, the situation you were in right now was because of him, and because of that he couldn’t be with you, regardless if you had stolen his heart or not. He wasn’t going to risk losing you constantly because of his lifestyle. He was selfish, but not that selfish. 

He reached for his ringing phone as he pulled up to the shop, answering it without even looking at the caller ID. 

“Yeah?” He answers. 

“Jinyoung’s using a girl tonight.” The man says. 

“Fuck.” Baekhyun spits. He knew it. And he knew how to get you back. 

Jinyoung usually only brought 3 or 4 men with hkm to the races, because he knows no one is dumb enough to truly try anything with him. He probably wasn’t counting on Baekhyun to get you back because of his acting as though he didn’t care and that’s exactly where Baekhyun wanted him. 

“Chanyeol, Kai.” He calls out, walking into the garage. 

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” Chanyeol grits. 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah. Look, i need your help tonight.”

“Whats up?” Chanyeol asks, a little concerned. 

‘Jinyoung took Y/N, and is planning to use her as top prize tonight.“ He says. “I need to get her back.“ 

Kai smirks at Baekhyun. “And I thought she meant nothing to you.“ 

"Yeah well, are you gonna help or not?" 

"No way in hell I’m gonna miss fucking up Jinyoung.” Kai laughs. 

“A fight? Fuck yeah.” Chanyeol laughs. 

Great. Now he just needs to make sure you’re safe.

** 

After hours of being kept on Jinyoung’s couch, having men stare at you, wink at you, lick their lips, you were finally escorted out of there and put back into the van that brought you here. 

“I don’t want to hurt you princess.” Jinyoung sighs. “So don’t be fucking stupid.” He warns you. 

You knew better than to run, Jinyoung and his men always showed off their guns. You knew you wouldn’t make it far anyways. You weren’t sure why you were so calm about it all. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought Baekhyun would come to your rescue but you doubted it. Though you held out hope. 

You arrived at a very familiar setting. The place that you had first met Baekhyun, the place that he had saved you and now it was the place that you hoped he would save you again. 

“This her?” A man asks, pointing to you. 

“Mhm.” Jinyoung answers. “Top prize.” He smiles, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you in close to his side. 

**

Baekhyun gets out of his car, followed by Chanyeol and Kai and almost immediately spots Jinyoung’s guys before seeing Jinyoung with his arms wrapped around you. You were wearing a tiny dress that barely covered your ass. Baekhyun could feel the rage building up inside himself as he watched Jinyoung hang onto you, acting as though you were his. 

You werent. If you belonged to anyone, it sas Baekhyun and he wasn’t going to let Jinyoung get away with this. 

“Let’s go.” Baekhyun says, making his way over to them. 

“Jinyoung.” He spits, approaching the group. 

“What’s up Byun? How can I help you?” He asks. 

“Give her to me.” Baekhyun snarls. 

“Her?” Jinyoung asks, pointing to you. “This pretty little thing? Nah, I wanna keep her for myself.” Jinyoung smiles. 

“I won’t ask you again.” He says. 

“And i won’t tell you again.” Jinyoung says, pushing you back and to the ground before walking towards Baekhyun. “She’s mine.” He smiles at Baekhyun who scoffs. 

A sarcastic smile on his face, Baekhyun cocks his fist back before punching Jinyoung directly in the nose, knocking him back to the ground. 

With giant smiles spread across both their faces, Chanyeol and Kai happily begin brawling with the few men that Jinyoung brought. Throwing punches and kicks, while receiving some back but not taking long to have his men laying on the ground withering in pain. 

“You want her back so badly? Race me for her.” Jinyoung spits, blood seeping from his mouth. 

“Baekhyun you can’t. He’s undefeated.” Chanyeol says, worriedly, Baekhyun’s eyes remain on Jinyoung, whose now smirking. 

“Winner gets the girl." 

[marybethsjournal]

Always

Summary: Molly has hit a wall with Dutch and doesn’t know what to do; she feels completely lost. Not to mention that she has started to have complicated feeling towards another gang member.

Pairing(s): Dutch Van Der Linde x Molly O’Shea, Molly O’Shea x Sadie Adler (strongly implied)

Word Count: 1903

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265912

It was barely noon and the girls were day drinking yet again. This didn’t impress Molly much, but she had come to realize that nobody, not even Dutch cared about what she thought. Molly pushed the thought away. If she thought about how Dutch had been shutting her out and treating her badly in general, she would be driven to drink just like these harlots. And then she would be no better than them, which seemed to be the most humiliating thought possible at the time.

Molly was not surprised that Karen was leading the drinking charge of the day. That’s all the wench knew how to do, that and seduce men. She tried not to blame Karen too hard for that, though, because everyone knew Dutch was strongly encouraging her to put herself out there and if Molly verbalized her bias against working women, she’d have to implicate Dutch in the whole thing and she didn’t feel like doing that. Anything to exonerate her man from wrongdoing. What did surprise Molly was that that girl, Sadie, had joined the women for once. And not in the way Abigail had, coming over to get one drink and then gone back to her business (Molly didn’t blame her, she deserved a drink, especially since Jack had asked about 50 questions today already and the Marston man had tried to pants Bill and got a fist in his face in return). Sadie was downing the drinks faster than anyone else; she seemed to have no shame. Molly supposed that maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Sadie had gone through a significant transformation over the past few months. When Sadie had been brought in by Dutch, Micah, and Arthur, she seemed weak and quiet. She had worn dresses and otherwise modest garments, although nothing too fancy. Now, she had the audacity to yell at the men and one day, when out on the town with Arthur, she had bought a shirt and pants and she hadn’t taken them off since. Quite offensive, in Molly’s opinion, but Sadie objectively pulled it off quite well. Molly had noticed herself staring at Sadie quite often, observing the woman. She couldn’t pinpoint quite why, but she assumed it was normal. Sadie was pushing boundaries and was overall quite an interesting woman, more interesting than herself. Not to mention, Sadie was very beautiful. Anyone could see that, it wasn’t an odd thing for her to think.

Molly found herself in the same situation yet again. She was staring at Sadie, who was downing another drink and laughing at some joke Tilly (or maybe it was Karen??? Molly wasn’t doing a very good job focusing on anything other than Sadie at the moment) made. Molly smiled, seeing Sadie throw her head back in laughter. Her smile was so huge and genuine. It was only recently that she had started smiling again. Sadie had taken it rough, just like any woman would, when her husband died. Molly knew the pain hadn’t gone away, but Sadie seemed to finally be letting herself enjoy life with little guilt. She thought about Sadie’s smile a little longer than she probably should have and her mind ended up drifting to a few nights ago when she and Sadie had danced. The whole camp was ambient with laughter and music, coming both from the gramophone and Javier’s guitar. Everyone seemed to have found a partner and was dancing: Mary Beth with Arthur, Jack with Uncle (their form of dancing was far different than everyone else’s slow dancing, the pair were waving their arms wildly and running in circles together), Karen with Sean, Tilly with Lenny. Hell, even Abigail and that fool John had put aside their differences for the night and were dancing up on each other, a bit too provocatively for Molly’s liking. Molly had actually been really excited about the spontaneous party that night. She felt the distance growing between her and Dutch the past few weeks and she was convinced that that night could make it all better. She had put on her finest dress, fixed her hair, and perfected before asking him. But to her surprise, he told her that he was too tired and maybe they could try another time. Her surprise had turned to horror when she later saw Dutch dancing with Susan. The worst part was, Dutch didn’t even seem to care when Molly noticed. It was like he didn’t even care about her feelings.

Molly had run into the nearby forest to cry. She knew her makeup would smudge and usually she would refrain from crying to the best of her ability, but she didn’t care anymore. It only took a few minutes before Sadie had snuck up behind her and asked her what was wrong. She had been sitting on a rock nearby, not in a party mood, when she had heard Molly crying, she explained. How embarrassing.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened so I can fight a bitch?” 

Molly, despite her sadness, laughed. “It’s not really a bitch. It’s Dutch. Wouldn’t dance with me but he sure is dancing with Susan right now.”

“That old fart? Ah you can do better than him.” Sadie seemed to get an idea and clapped her hands together. “In fact, let’s show him what he’s missing. I’ll dance with ya.”

Molly was taken aback by Sadie’s proposal. 

“I’m not too sure that’ll make him jealous. Maybe if I danced with Charles or something…”

“Oh come on! Sorry I’m not Charles.” Sadie grabbed Molly’s hand and drug her back into camp

Molly was confused as to why Sadie seemed so insistent to dance with her, but she was certainly pleased by the attention. She rarely got attention from this gang.

The dance went wonderfully; Molly almost felt something resembling butterflies in her stomach, which she dismissed as simple indigestion. It was perfect until Molly apparently got too close to Sadie and she asked, “Miss O’Shea, do you expect me to kiss you or what?”

Molly was horrified. She gave some phony excuse and ran away from the situation as fast as she could, ignoring Sadie calling after her. Things had been pretty awkward between them since then.

Molly was startled out her daydreaming when Karen yelled at her, “Hey Molly, what are you looking at? You wanna drink or something?” Oh great, Molly thought after realizing she had been staring this entire time.

Molly walked over to where Karen was and for just a brief moment, allowed herself to look at Sadie again. Unfortunately, Sadie seemed to have the same idea. Their eyes locked and Sadie subsequently excused herself to go talk to Abigail. 

“What the Hell is her problem? Anyway, wanna drink? I’ll share mine. It’s the good kind of whiskey.” Karen offered some strong whiskey to Molly. There’s nothing Molly wanted less than to drink after Karen.

“I try not to drink outside of social settings.” Molly informed Karen, politely declining.

“Then WHY were you looking at me earlier?”

“I wasn’t.” Molly responded curtly.

“Then you were looking at Sadie. Cause I know you weren’t looking at these here two fools.” Karen made rude gestures at Mary Beth and Tilly. 

“I wasn’t looking at anything, Karen. Just thinking.” Molly couldn’t find it within herself to look anywhere besides her feet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. You two, get out of here. I need to talk to Miss O’Shea alone.” Molly tried desperately to get the other two girls to stay but Karen insisted they leave. Apparently, Karen had much more pull among the other women than Molly did. That wasn’t one bit surprising, but it still seemed wrong.

“Wow, you really don’t wanna talk to me. My feelings are so hurt.” Karen took another swig of her drink before continuing. “Listen Molly, you know just as well as everyone else that I think you’re lazy and entitled. Just all around a nasty person.”

Molly nodded. Karen generally was straightforward and rude when she wanted to me, but it still seemed the drink must be doing a number on her for her to be able to say what she just had said.

“But for some reason my the dumb bitch in me has started to care. I didn’t think I had an angel on my shoulder, but here she is, annoying as ever, telling me, ‘Karen, you have to warn Molly. You don’t wanna see her get hurt.’ And then I tell them back that I don’t care if you get hurt but I still feel like I do care afterwards.”

It didn’t take much of an intellectual to make the observation that Karen had had too much to drink. Molly honestly couldn’t understand what she was saying: it sounded like a whole bunch of incoherent rambling in which she said a whole bunch, yet nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t have a heart of gold like myself. But at least you do have a heart. Listen, I just wanted to let you know Dutch don't care about you.”

‘“Leave me alone, Karen. You’re drunk and I won’t hear anymore.”

“See, you know it’s true! He sees you as a toy more than anything. You’re gonna end up hurt and he’s not going to care one bit.”

“If you think he’s so bad, why are you still running with him?”

“A lot of us don’t have a choice, miss society lady. Besides, I know better to get involved with him.”

“Sure, Karen. Thanks, I guess.”

Molly had walked away and pretended like she hadn’t cared but even days later, the short conversation haunted her at every turn. Even late at night, lying in bed next to Dutch, she replayed the whole ordeal over and over again in her mind. She hated to admit it, but Karen was right. The man lying next to her didn’t feel much for her anymore, if he ever had in the first place. It was just cold lying next to him. Like sleeping with a complete stranger.

She had spent several consecutive nights not being able to sleep out of worry. Late into the night, she would search Dutch’s face for any sort of sign that maybe he cared about something, maybe not even her. She always came up with nothing.

It had become all too much for Molly. She found herself crying yet again. She had never known herself to be this emotional. Part of her wanted Dutch to wake up and see her in pain, but she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t care. He would just be irritated that someone interrupted his beauty sleep.

One night when Molly couldn’t control her crying any longer, she left their tent so as not to disturb Dutch. She walked towards the rock that she usually sat on while she read a book during the day. On her way, she noticed that Sadie was sitting on another rock on the other side of camp. What was she doing out this late. She supposed she would have to find out. Now was her chance to finally talk to Sadie and apologize for whatever had happened between them.

“Can I sit here with you?” Molly asked Sadie when she approached her.

“Always.” Sadie smiled at her.

“That would be nice.”

[lokiandbuckyaremine]

The Guy Next Door

Prompt: do you think you could do something where the readers famous too (singer preferably) and she used to date tom holland but he cheated on her (i’m sorry i love tom though lol)and now like a few years later she has to do a project with the marvel cast and he’s there but she like catches chris evans eye or something and they hit it off? so like there’s an age gap and stuff ~ Requested by anonymous

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, but fluff with your fav blonde guy ;)

“Get out Tom! You don’t live here anymore!” The scene was replaying over and over in your head as you sat on your bed with a guitar in hand. Tears were streaming down your face as the words to your new song poured out of your mouth. Why were you crying? Tom left you 3 years ago.....why was the pain still there?

You had met Tom Holland three years ago while you were both acting in a musical together, knowing that he was a great performer and dancer. The way he smiled and made you feel inside instantly had you falling in love with him. That was until he got involved with Hollywood and cheated on you with his co-actress, Zendaya. He pleaded and pleaded with you to stay, claiming that it was only “on-set” feelings for her. It didn’t matter....between what the critics were saying as well as what you saw for yourself, you knew that he loved her more than he did you. As much as it hurt for you to accept this, you had your music to keep you grounded.

A knock on your apartment door extracted you from your daydreaming. You rarely got visitors, despite being a famous musician. Silence and solitude was what you were going for when you moved into an apartment complex, hidden from a part of the world. Walking to the door with a shaky hand, you open to reveal a very tall and handsome man in front of you. His hair was tucked under a navy blue cap, and he wore a small beard on his strong jawline. His soft lips curved up into a smile as he tilted his hat at you. “Hi! I guess I’m your new neighbor. Just wanted to stop by and introduce myself.” 

You smiled back at him shyly. “Well welcome to the hood. You don’t have any ferrets do you?” The man chuckled and looked at you oddly. “Uh, no. Can’t say I do. Why?” You giggled back and leaned up against the doorway. “Cause the last guy did, they got loose, and the entire place smelled like dirty animals. Guess you can stay here then.” You winked at the man, and this seemed to make him relax. “Well good. Name is Chris by the way.” He stuck out his strong hand for you to shake. “Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.”

Chris nodded in response, and peeked inside your apartment. His eyes landed on the guitar that laid across the couch. “You play?” You glanced back to where he was looking and nodded. “Yea, I write, play, and sing. Kind of my passion. Hope you don’t mind. May keep you up some nights.” He batted his beautiful blue eyes at you and smirked. “Not one bit. I happen to love music myself.” A bit of silence fell between the both of you until he thought of something and snapped his finger. “Oh my goodness! You’re y/f/n y/l/n! The girl from LA that became the youngest musician to have a #1 hit on the charts.”

You could feel your cheeks getting hot, and you nodded softly. “Yea, ha! Guess my secret is out.” Chris shoved his hands in his jeans and rocked back and forth on his feet. “This is so cool! And I would’ve never guessed you were 24. You’re so mature and womanly for your age.” Realizing what just came out of his mouth, he smacked his forehead. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. I meant you’re very pretty and well-kept for your age.” 

You giggled and could feel how red your face was getting. “I think I’m becoming a new shade of red. Thanks to you.” The tension between you two was building and you couldn’t help but get that tingly feeling in your stomach. You haven’t felt that since, well, Tom was around. It felt good and right, although you couldn’t help but feel like Chris was older than you and might not want to take a chance. 

“You wear the shade very nicely.” He leaned in towards you, giving you a full view of his face. You nearly fell backwards when you realized who it was. “OH MY GOD! You’re Chris Evans! I should’ve known by your dorkiness!” The two of you fell into a pool of laughter and he removed his cap, letting his short blonde hair fall out. “You caught me. Yea I’m going to be living here for a while. Got a new Avengers piece that’s going to start filming soon.”

Thinking that it was rude of you to keep him outside, you decided to invite him to come in. “Why don’t you come in for some coffee? My treat.” Chris began taking off his jacket and smirked. “I thought you’d never ask”.

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

Months passed, and almost everyday you and Chris would spend hours in one another’s apartment either talking, cooking, or doing something stupid. You both were becoming very close friends and it helped you fill that empty void that Tom had left you in. Chris was everything dreamed of, maybe even more. You knew that you both wanted more than friends but you couldn’t help and think he was refraining due to the age gap between the both of you. You brushed the thought away from you and just soaked up every moment you had with him. Friends was fine....for now. 

June rolled around, which meant that you wouldn’t be seeing Chris for a very long time. This was the beginning of the filming for the Marvel movie, and he would be straight out. You missed his presence in your apartment, and begged this time would pass so you could see him again. On the bright side, your agent managed to get you an acting spot in a new movie coming out. He didn’t give you any details except the time you needed to be on set and where it was. 

When the time came, you grew nervous because this was the first big role you had in a while. Yes you were a musician, but you loved to act as well. When you got to the set, you saw a whole bunch of campers lined up around the outside of the lot. A man with sunglasses began to approach you. “Miss y/l/n?” You nodded and stopped in front of him. “Nice to meet you. I will be your guard as well as your assistant. Follow me please.” You followed the stocky man across the lot and looked around. Coming to realization, you got excited quick because you were on the set of that new Marvel movie. That means that Chris would be here, or at least you hoped so. Your agent was a cheeky bastard....

The guard stopped in front of a camper and motioned towards it. “This will be your camper as well as dressing room. Anytime you need breaks, rest, or to catch up on your script, this will be your place to do so. If you need me for anything, I left my number on the counter. If I am not around to guide you or assist you, on either side of you is Mr. Pratt and Mr. Holland. Shall I help you with you bags?” You gulped when your agent said ‘Mr. Holland’. Did he mean Tom? Was he here? 

You smiled softly at him. “No thank you. I just need to be alone for a sec.” He nodded and straightened his jacket. “As you wish, y/n. I will be roaming around if you need me for anything.” He walked away, leaving you in a panicking state. You glanced to the right of your camper and saw in big letters “TOM HOLLAND” painted across the door. Just as you were about to dodge away, you heard his camper door open and shut. “Y/N? Is that you? It’s good to see you” Slowly turning to him, you pushed your lips together in a tight smile. “Wish I could say the same to you.” 

He walked down the steps and came over to give you a hug. You pushed him away. “Don’t touch me, Tom! We are not friends, not even acquaintances.” He laughed nervously and gave you a confused look. “I can’t give you a hug now. Why is that so wrong?” You glared at him and started to point at him. “Because that gesture suggests that you and I are close or have some connection. You fucking cheated on me, Tom! You could say a thousand fuckin sorries and plead on your hands and knees, but what you did to me was wrong. If you didn’t love me, why didn’t you just say so in the beginning and save me from this hell?”

Tom was taken back by your aggression, but deep down he knew you were right. “I didn’t expect to fall for her, y/n. I haven’t spoken to you in years, give me a chance.” You mouth dropped and you slammed down on the rail. “Are you fucking serious right now?! I didn’t expect my boyfriend and the man I fell in love with, or boy I should say, to cheat on me! But here we are!” The two of you continued to argue, until you heard a “Hey!” being shouted from behind you. 

You turned around and nearly broke out in tears when you saw who it was. “Chris!! Man am I glad to see you!” You ran to him and he grabbed in a big bear hug, your favorite. “Hey Vanilla Spice (His cute nickname for you), what are you doing here?!” Tom rolled his eyes and he was witnessing this interaction between the both of you. “Uh, Chris. WE were kinda in the middle of something.” Chris tightened his fist. “Tom, I heard the entire thing. I’m sure the entire lot did. Dude, you lost and now you need to accept the fact that you fucked up”. Your eyes switched between the two guys and you smiled, knowing Chris was defending you. “Look, you can drop the Captain America act off set. Stop trying to be the hero and think you know what’s going on.” Tom began to walk towards Chris, and not in a good way. Chris followed and pointed at Tom’s chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were in love with y/n, got an acting job as Spiderboy with Marvel Studios, had a few scenes with Zendaya, developed a crush, slept with her making the tabloids very happy, broke y/n’s heart, and now are too pussy to admit it. Did I leave any details out?”   

You covered your mouth trying to hide the laughter with how Chris just literally did the most sexy thing and defended you like his life depended on it. This left Tom speechless, and he crossed in arms in defeat. “Look, you have no idea how bad I feel about it. I never meant to hurt her.” Chris furrowed his brow and Tom and clenched his jaw. “Then maybe you should of thought of that as you were fucking Zendaya in you trailer.” Hearing this, you freaked. “It happened in THIS CAMPER??!! I’m gonna kill you Tom!” You started to lunge at him, but Chris caught your torso with his strong hands. “Hey, y/n. It’s not worth it. Let’s get you away from him.”

Putting his arm around you, Chris walked you across the lot to his camper and let you welcome yourself in. Once you were both inside, he enveloped you in another hug and pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Gosh, I missed your scent.” You giggled and squeezed him tighter. “I missed you too, Cap.” Pulling away, you both stared at one another for a few seconds before pulling apart. That tension was still there and it was killing you. You sat down on his couch and began to fiddle with the corner of a pillow. “Why was I so stupid to even think he was the one for me? Am I that blind to love?” 

Chris shushed you and brought you a bottle of water. “You’re not stupid, darlin. You just don’t know that what you’re looking for has been in front of you the entire time”. Realizing what he said, you glanced up at him with teary eyes. “What? I thought, wait what?” He chuckled and joined you on the couch. “Look, I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since you first invited me into your apartment. I didn’t want to proceed with it because I didn’t know how you would feel about the age gap. But seeing the way Tom treating you, made me want you so badly and show you how a man should really respect and treat you.” 

The tension was breaking and you never felt so relaxed and happy in your entire life. “Chris, I’ve liked you too. A lot. And it’s been driving me crazy thinking that you and I would never be more than friends. I didn’t know how you felt about the gap either, but I can’t go another day thinking that our relationship is not going to change. Ever since you came into my life and moved in next door, the emptiness and shadow that I was left in is gone. I’m willing to give this a chance if you are too.” Looking up at your best friend, he grinned the biggest you’ve ever seen him do. Chris took your hand in his and pressed a sweet kiss to each knuckle. “It would be my pleasure to call you mine, and spend the rest of my days with you, Vanilla Spice.” 

Tears broke from your eyes and you threw your arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Chris. Please don’t ever leave me.” He grabbed your face gently and leaned in for a tender kiss before touching his nose with yours. “I love you more, y/n. And not a chance I will ever leave you.” The kiss resumed and you both got lost into one another’s arms and affection.

What can you say......he was just the guy next door. ;) 

A/N: OK!!!! I HAD SO SO SO much fun writing this and really hope you guys like. I love Tom Holland and i hated making him so mean but it fit perfectly with what I wanted. Please LIKE, COMMENT, and REBLOG!!!!! (REQUESTS OPEN TOO)

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[eugenesmorphine]

Replacements // Edward “Babe” Hefferon Imagine

Taglist: @alienoresimagines

  I jumped out of the truck, my feet hitting the mud. Mud spayed all over my Army issued boots and trousers. I grunted, quickly looking down at my now mud covered boots before being pushed along by the larger men behind me. I clutched onto my rifle, walking along along with the rest of the replacements. I looked around. No other females. Not even any other female medics. I was in for a long war now. And I don't really know if I was fully mentally prepared for it either.

  When I reached the dining hall, I stuck out like a sore thumb in my uniform. We were in our nice uniforms (in this moment I forgot the name of those uniforms they always wore while in bars and stuff. My bad.), which meant I had to wear the dark green pencil skirt. Along with black heels, my garrison cap, and jacket. I hadn't made any friends just yet, not even through basic training or Airborne school. No one respected a female like me. It didn't make it any better that I was a replacement. No one liked the replacements. Especially when they were small females. I didn't really understand why these men didn't, but maybe I'll never know.

  I went and sat down at a table, it was already filled with men. I quickly glanced at their name tapes. 'Toye, Gaurenere, Leibgott, Roe, Hefferon,' I thought to myself. Their chatting quickly dialed down at the table as soon as the realized my presence. I felt my cheeks heat up as all of their gazes landed directly on me. Oh how embarrassed I was. I went from being a nurse to being put as the first female combat medic in the Airborne. Now I'm here. Some random place in Europe. With a bunch of scary and tall men mean mugging me.

  "What is your name little lady?" Asked the biggest man at the table. His name tape read 'Randleman'. he seemed like a gentle giant almost. He had a slight smile on his face, nothing giving off creepy vibes. I swallowed hard.

  "I'm Corporal Y/N L/N," I said, the strongest way possible. But to me, my nervousness and slight fear was almost too obvious. My face felt like it was on fire as the large man beside me reached a hand out to shake my hand. I cautiously took his extremely large hand into my dainty ones. Which earned a few chuckles from the rest of the men around the table.

  "Welcome to Easy Company Corporal L/N. I see your a replacement huh?" Randleman asked. Once again, a small wave of chuckles was heard from the men at the table.  I blushed and nodded.

  "I'm a medic as well," I spoke up, my voice actually seemed to be steady for the first time since coming here. I watched as they all nodded and looked over to a pale man with jet black hair. Who also had a medic patch on his arm. His name tag read 'Roe'. That was good to know. I noticed the heavy stare of one redhead in particular throughout the conversations. I glanced down at the name tape on his blouse. 'Hefferon' the name replaying throughout my head. The man looked young. He was quite handsome. From the looks of it, he was a replacement to. He was awfully quiet once he realized when I had sat down at the table. Now every time we made eye contact for a few moments, a dusting of light pink spread across his cheeks. Seems a little strange but I just pushed it to the back of my mind.

///

     It got late and most men had left. At this point, it was basically just me in the mess hall. Maybe a few other men, drunk and sprawled around the place at tables. But, it was basically just me. I sat down at a table, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I looked at my glass of water. I never really did like drinking, I thought it was quite gross in all honesty. So I stuck to my water.

  I was expecting to stay alone, well that was until I heard a set of boots approaching me. My gaze went from my glass of water, up to the man that was approaching me. It was that Hefferon kid once again. His cheeks and ear still burning bright red. It was cute in all honesty. He clutched and twisted his Garrison cap within his hands like he was nervous or something. I smiled up at him softly, feeling my face heating up ever so slightly.

  "Mind if I sit down?" he asked softly. I tapped the seat next to me, which he happily walked over and sat down, placing his Garrison cap onto his lap. I looked over at him, returning the smile I had given him earlier. "So you're a replacement to?" he asked, which I nodded in reply to. "Wow, can I just say you are really pretty?" he was a flirt. But not in a player way. But in a sweet way it seemed. I smiled, chuckling at his words with blush spreading across my face.

  "Why thank you Mr. Hefferon, you aren't too bad yourself," I replied. I wasn't lying, he was quite good looking. He chuckled in return, scratching the back of his neck. He was sweet and shy. It was nice.

  "Wanna, um, wanna go on a walk around this weird base?" he asked softly. I nodded and stood up, flattening my skirt and grabbing onto my Garrison cap. He followed my actions and places his cap on his head as I did the same.  I smiled and we walked out of the dining hall and the cold brisk  air hit me. I smiled and began walking along with Hefferon. From there we walked and talked, talking about almost anything we could think of. Our home lives, favorite animals, annoying higher ups, our jobs in the Airborne, basically everything. It was nice. And I got to know a lot about Heffereon, or what he told me to call him, Babe. We clicked right away it seems and I overall loved it.

///

   By the time we had reached my barracks, it was passed one in the morning when we had checked Babe's watch. It had gotten late so fast we didn't even realize it. We walked in front of the barracks door and I looked up at the redhead in front me. I smiled up at him which he had returned the gesture gladly. He then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I went onto my toes and kissed his cheek softly.

   "Have a nice night Babe, I look forward to growing closer to you," I smiled, leaving him to cup the cheek I had kissed with his mouth slightly open and his face as red as a tomato. I watched as he turned around happily and walked joyfully down a path. I noticed his friend pop out of no where and call out things to him.

  "How'd it go Babe?" asked a short Italian man. He nodded and jumped up and down slightly. The man was filled with joy and energy.

  "Fucking amazing!" he yelled in return, running up to his friends. His friends cheered with them. That was until someone opened their barracks door and yelled at them to pipe down and go to sleep. I laughed and walked into my bunk. Slipping off my heels I sighed in content. I ran a hand through my hair as I laid down on my bed. I stared up at my ceiling. And for the first time ever since signing up for the Army, I was truly happy. I even has a real smile on my face. I knew there was something special about Babe ever since I met him today. Maybe it will be an outcome to the future. Maybe fighting in this war wasn't so bad after all. We will have to wait and see.

[alliswell21]

Avengerlark, Assemble!

Here is my first try at this... I know it’s not my best, and it’s actually kinda short. This first one is dedicated to @dandeliononfire, since it’s her brain child. While I do have a backstory for K & P, If anyone is interested in more, please, by all means, send in a request/prompt and I’ll try to work with it.

Unbetaed.

Enjoy.

🕷 🕷 🕷

“Heads up!” A whole car wheezes by on my right, just as the shiny flash of metal zooms past me propelled by hand and feet jets.

“Hey!” I call out in aggravation and leap in the opposite direction, shooting strand after strand of web compound out of my wrists. The Kia is still descending straight to a store front, so I start weaving a sturdy web in front of the falling vehicle.

Then out of nowhere, a huge shadow looms on top of me. I only have time to look up and hug the nearest wall before She-hulk crashes on top of the flying car with a mighty roar, pancaking the frame to the concrete directly below.

I moan frustrated.

“In coming meteor!” A male voice snaps in my suit’s com.

I start running across the wall, slinging a web and leaping upwards.

“Where are you going, webs? Get the civilians in the ground!”

“There’s nobody down there!” I yell back. “I’ve looked and there isn’t anyone on the street!”

Iron Girl’s furious growl comes through the com.

“Guys, the sky is falling! Take cover!” Hawkeye calls out just as the first ball of fire descends.

“Smash!” She-hulk punches the fireball, pretty much the same way she did with the flying car, except this time, the object ping pongs against the ground and everything it touches catches on fire.

A second and third flaming rock hit earth. The computer sirens come up into everyone’s earpieces, “Warning, warning. Imminent failure.”

“Move it, move it, move it!” Screams the Iron girl jettisoning in between meteor fragments, blasting everything in her path, but the debris is falling to fast, too close. Unnatural in my opinion.

“Warning, Warning. Failure imminent.”

“Huge bogey approaching.”

“Warning, Warning—“

“Everyone, run for cover. We can’t fight a rock that sized!” I call out, navigating myself around the chaos.

“Prepare for impact, in three, two, one—“

A volley of arrows pierce the already deflated tires of the Kia She-hulk smashed a minute ago and the whole background glitches twice, before the blue lights of the training center flicker back to life all around us. A whirring sound coming from the vaulted ceiling signals the hologram machines shutting off for the day, and soon after, a chorus of tired, painful groans echo in the cavernous room.

Only the flattened car and a few other big objects, like a dumpster and a few light poles remain.

“Ugh! That was awful.” Says Gale Hawthorne, landing awkwardly in front of me. He scowls at his crossbow, pulling at the string like he’s afraid it got damaged with the few arrows he just shot into the useless rubber of the car.

Congratulations Hawkeye, you just killed an inanimate object. The thought comes into my mind unbidden, so I force my eyes elsewhere before the words escape my mouth. Too bad my eyes turn to the exact spot Iron Girl touches ground.

I’m not as quick averting my gaze this time.

“It wouldn’t have been as bad if everyone had been in position!” She bites, flicking both hands at the same time; the Iron suit opens up down the middle, panels of shiny gold and green armor recede and fold back until only the back of the suit stands, and Katniss Everdeen’s slim, strong, and perfectly sculpted right leg steps out of her encasing. The rest of her body follows, and I have to groan internally, because she’s wearing those biking shorts again, the ones that mold to her tight, little behind like a second skin and leaves nothing to my imagination. Her sports tank top doesn’t help either.

I tear my mask off before I suffocate panting like I just ran a marathon in it.

“Everyone was in position, Catnip. Even Johanna was in position for once!” Grunts Hawkeye.

“She-hulk did good!” Responds the big, green girl, otherwise known as Johanna Mason, the She-hulk.

“I built a net for that car!” I exclaim exasperated. “Do you guys know how much wasted web material that is? It takes three days to gather ingredients, make, and package one tiny vial of web! Can we not waste it?” I grumble.

“Spider-lad sad!” Says She-hulk mockingly.

“Spider-MAN, thank you very much, Johanna. And I’m not sad, I’m aggravated about the fact that perfectly good spiderweb went to waste.”

“She-hulk sleep hammock!” Jo gives a hulking chuckle before jumping on my beautiful net, like it's indeed a hammock.

Only, she gets stuck and starts roaring angrily, kicking her massive legs and punching the air with her humongous fists, until finally the threads give and she sags half a foot deeper, but it’s still suspended above the ground, cocooned in my net.

“Stop squirming!” Shouts Gale, aiming an arrow at my web and efficiently cutting Johanna out of the mess.

I groan again. It’s helpless.

“Enough!” Calls Katniss cracking her knuckles. “This exercise was a disaster! Nobody responded the way they were supposed to. The execution was sloppy and loose. We looked like a bunch of amateurs!” She snaps, “How can we defend Earth from threats if we can’t even manage a measly simulation?”

“The simulation was faulty.” I say, “There were no civilians in the ground, the meteor shower was coming in too tight and fast, not to mention too big a chunks of it. Plus the reaction to the one punch from Jo was totally wrong, it defied laws of physics.”

Her flaming gray eyes turn to look at me, there’s anger in her gaze when we lock eyes. “You weren’t in your spot! Why did you move?”

“Katniss, the buildings were holographic, in case you forgot. I situated myself as close to my mark as I could. I can’t magically cling to holograms, you know. And throwing that car my way in retaliation is not very heroic either. You’re lucky my spidy senses tingled a second before that Kia flew past me, Iron Kat, otherwise I’d be a windshield splatter. Your warning skills could use some improvement!” I respond in kind.

Katniss’ face flush with renewed anger. I can see her biting the inside of her lip as her scowl deepens. She’s formulating her comeback, but Gale beats her to it.

“Give it a rest, Catnip. The Web Slinger is right. We can’t always have a neat formation during practice. Is just not realistic. If an enemy attacks Earth, it won’t wait until we’re all set in our designated areas, camera ready. If you want to have a real fighting chance, you need to learn to plan on the fly.”

“Fine! If you’re so awesome at improvising, then you have point tomorrow! I’m going to shower before our call with Ms. Potts.” Katniss stalks out of the training center, and Gale and I stand there watching her perfect ass walk away from us.

At least, I am.

Gale’s her second cousin though, so I guess he wouldn’t be looking at her romp the same way I am; which embarrases me right away, because I’m supposed to be annoyed with her, in a professional matter, instead I’m admiring her retreating form like some kind of pervert.

“She-hulk hungry!” Says Johanna stepping between me and Gale, jogging after Katniss.

“Did you think Catnip noticed Jo’s not wearing a shirt?” Asks Gale staring at Johanna with both fascination and revulsion.

“Dunno. But I’m sure she will once she’s showing Pepper Potts the replay video of today’s exercise.”

“She’s gonna be mad.”

“She sure will.”

“I’m glad she’s your girl and not mine,” Gale gives me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “You deal with your angry bobcat of a girl.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling anxious. “Um… you know about us?” I cringe.

Gale rolls his eyes and steps away from me. “Peeta, she came down to breakfast two days ago wearing the top of the pajama set Effie Trinket gave you for Christmas… while you wore the bottoms.” He turned sideways to level me with a pointed look, then kept on walking away while speaking. “Neither of you are very slick, my man. I would warn you to keep your sticky limbs away from Katniss, but she’s been more cheery since you two started sneaking around. If this practice had happened two months ago, Miss Iron Maiden would’ve force us to repeat the simulation until everything fell the exact way she envisioned it.

“No, she’s definitely more laid back since jumping your arachnid bones. Heck! I even saw her smiling yesterday. You know the last time I saw her smile? It was a while ago. So, from fellow teammate to teammate, you keep her happy, Peeta Mellark, whatever it is you do in that cave of yours, keep her happy. And I’ll keep pretending I don’t know what you’re up to with my baby cousin.”

Gale disappears down the hallway, making me feel like a total idiot.

“I make her smile?” The thought makes me ridiculously happy. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m merrily swinging on my webs from wall to wall through Avengers tower to my room; a stupid smile splitting my face in two.

I make Iron Kat smile! F yeah, I’m the man!

[ourfairytale]

Quickie

Requested- “Can you do an imagine where (Y/N) begs Grayson for a quickie? Thanks ily.”

A/N: yesyesyesyes a Grayson quickie would be so hot, holy shit . . . don't even get me started about him in a suit. shall we combine the two? i think yes.

Requests are open!

Content: dirty filthy smut smut smut, some swearing, and a lil aggressive #sorrynotsory

*****

I was laying on my stomach on the purple velvet couch, scrolling through twitter on my phone, occasionally laughing at a funny video or retweeting something relatable. It was pretty early in the morning and usually, I'd be asleep right now, but Gray had woken me up so I could accompany him on the filming of his and Ethan's new video.

Suddenly, a heavy body landed on my backside and a grunt of annoyance escaped my lips. I turned my head slightly to find a poofy-haired, paperclip-necklace-wearing goofball with his butt on my lower back while he relaxed against the couch.

"I think all of our intros and outros should be filmed like this," He said amusingly. I mimicked his laugh and pushed up with my arms to make him slide off of me.

"You'd probably lose subscribers," I commented, standing up and putting my phone into my back pocket. I looked over Ethan's attire and it looked pretty put together, but  I was a little confused as to why he was dressed so formally. "Why are you dressed like that? I thought you were just going to work at a coffee shop?" I asked him, arms crossing over my chest.

He bent over the camera, that was in between the both of us as he began to turn it on as well as the microphone.

"Well we have to do the interview first, so we wanna make a good first impression," He explained as he made sure everything was in place. There was only one thing missing; Grayson.

As if on queue, he came waltzing into the workshop area, his fingers fondling with the tightness of his necktie. As soon as I saw the grey suit adorned by his toned body, I was done for. All sleepiness left me and I was awoken by a sexual drive. My mouth went dry and my panties were surely drenched just by the sight of him.

The white button up hugged his torso, the grey coat on top looked as if it was going to be ripped due to his biceps. Don't even get me started on the grey slacks. It was clearly obvious this boy didn't skip leg day due to the definition in his legs and butt being clearly visible, as well as his bulge.  

"Babe? Y/N? Are you okay?" I was brought out of my thoughts by Grayson's broad hands running up and down my arms. Heat crept up my neck and to my cheeks as my stomach did cartwheels. I nodded my head, trying to compose myself. "Can you help me?" He spoke again, slight grogginess still evident in his voice due to the early morning. He gestured to his tie and my hands went up to his neck as I did my work.

Oh, how I tried so hard to focus on straightening out the tie, but my mind couldn't stop from imagining myself pulling his body to me and licking him from head to toe.

"You okay, Princess? You haven't even said a simple good morning," He dipped his lips down to my ear and whispered so that only I could hear. This fucker knew exactly what he was doing. I pressed my legs together, trying to suppress my body's need for friction down there. I cleared my throat, flattening the tie against his chest while I looked up to connect my eyes with his. If eyes could smirk, his definitely were.

My eyes peered over to the side to see Ethan hunched over a to-go bag, placing a camera and a microphone inside for when they film in the cafe, completely oblivious to what was going on.

My attention turned back to Grayson, hands still on his chest. I began to slide them down his torso slowly, feeling his abs through the material, finally reaching the waistline of his slacks and lightly tugging on his belt. Grayson clicked his tongue against his cheek, removing his hands from my hips just to remove mine from his pants.  

"Not now, I have a video to film," His words a bit harsh, as well as the forcefulness of his hands. I rolled my eyes, peeling myself away from him in annoyance.

I watched as he joined his twin's side and sat on the purple couch. Before long, they were arguing about Grayson's outfit and after five minutes of their bickering, I excused myself from the room. Gray hiked up his trousers slightly to take his seat comfortably, the groin area becoming even tighter. I decided it probably wasn't healthy watching my sex god of a boyfriend and imagining all the things I wished he would be doing to me instead of filming a youtube video.

I trudged towards Grayson's bedroom, the aching in my core growing with each step as I imagined pulling on his tie; imagining him using that tie on me.

I laid myself across his mattress, knowing they would be filming the intro for quite a while. I also knew that I wouldn't be able to contain myself while watching him in that suit all day. I hiked my casual olive green dress up around my hips, slowly inching one hand down my torso while the other cupped my own breast. I dipped my fingers underneath my thong, instantly being able to feel how wet I already was. That man was torture.

I pictured his arms pinning my own above my head, hips rocking into mine, breast against chiseled pecks, his hot tongue and lips on my neck . . . everything I wanted. Everything I needed. I rubbed figure eights onto my clit, imagining that it was Grayson's long digits instead of my own.

I felt myself nearing my climax, but I was definitely missing the feeling of him inside of me. Short and soft moans escaped my lips and I took the hand that was massaging my own breast and bit down on my finger to keep myself quiet.

"Mmm, Gray," I whispered, eyes closed, arching my back off of the mattress, images of him making love to me replaying in my mind.

"Fuck," A deep voice startled me, instantly removing my fingers from my heat and pulling my dress back down in protection. I then saw him standing with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, back against the closed door as he watched me with hooded eyes. "What do you think you're doing, Princess?" His voice was so low and quiet, it made the pain of my unfinished orgasm even more unbearable.

"I couldn't wait, Gray . . . you do things to me," I watched him as he approached the bed, he swallowed hard when I pulled my dress back up, my lace clad core in full view for him. My fingers resumed what they were doing before they were interrupted. My middle finger circling over my entrance before I inserted my digit, biting my lip. He watched with pain in his eyes, falling to his knees in front of the bed, my center in full view. "Come on baby, it would feel so much better if it was your dick instead of my finger," I breathed out, shutting my eyes, but knowing I had his full attention.

"I can't . . . E and I have the interview for the coffee shop that we have to leave for in 10 minutes, plus the view is pretty fucking amazing from here," He palmed at his erection with one hand, the other fisting the sheets. The amount of restraint this man had was awardable.

"C'mon, we both know we can finish this in five," I propped myself up on one elbow, continuing my circular motions on my clit as I looked at the drooling man in front of me. I knew he needed this just as much as I did, but he still wouldn't budge.

Groaning, I sat up completely, reaching forwards for his necktie, pulling up on the material so that our lips were centimeters apart. His eyes widened due to the hasty action, I had completely halted my movements and was now leaning over the side of the bed, face in close proximity to his.

"Come on Daddy . . . make me feel good," I inched forwards, capturing his bottom lip between my teeth as I tugged slightly. He closed his eyes, humming in response to the name pet name I called him. He continued to hold back, clenching his jaw to keep himself from giving in.

"This pussy needs your cock, Daddy. Please," I begged, about to connect my lips with his until I was taken off guard. He moved to his feet, arms pushing my shoulders backward quite roughly, by back sinking into the mattress. He didn't stop there. His fingers went to his tie, tugging it free from the collar of his shirt, hastily grabbing my hands and binding them together; something he had gotten exceptionally good at. He bunched my dress up, making sure my whole lower half was completely visible.

"Since you begged so nicely," He ripped the fabric of my lace thong, then tugged at his belt and unbuttoning his trousers. He pushed both his pants and his boxers down, letting his member spring freely against his abdomen. The tip was already swollen, and I could see the vein on the underside of his dick pulsating from where I was laying. I moaned at the site, wrapping my legs around his torso, pulling him towards me.

His finger dipped down between my folds, lapping up my juices and circling my clit. His other hand pinned my bound hands above my head and I was a moaning mess beneath him. I needed him.

"So wet," He whispered right before he inserted his fingers into his mouth.

"Grayson," I seethed, urgency in my voice. Instantly, his length stretched out my entrance. He didn't waste any time with the slow approach, almost immediately bottoming out and I could swear I could already feel his tip grazing my g-spot. A moan escaped my lips from the feeling, back arching, my clothed chest pushing into his.

He gave me a second to adjust before his hips retracted just to thrust back into mine again. A whimper escaped me, wanting so badly to claw at his muscular back while a much-anticipated pressure was being relieved. His lips found mine hungrily, tongue immediately flattening on my own as his grip on my wrists tightened. The rough hairs on his pelvis rubbed against my clit as he made sure to hit my g-spot with every onslaught.

"Harder," I moaned against his wet kiss. He grabbed the back of my leg, hiking it up higher on his hip for easier access, his other hand still pinning me to the pillows. Sweat was collecting on his forehead due to him still being half clothed in his suit but he didn't slow down. His balls slapped against my ass and his grip got tighter and tighter.

"Mmm, Grayson, right there," I encouraged his movements as his lips attacked my neck, sucking harder than usual, surely leaving a mark behind. He grunted and moaned against my skin while his arm shook from holding himself up. I could tell he was getting close, his thrusts becoming more aggressive. He should be orgasming any minute now, but he wouldn't dare let himself cum before me. He never did. He always made sure I finished first; what a gentleman.

"Cum for me, Princess," He let go of my wrists, fingers dipping between my folds, rubbing my sweet spot. I arched into him, teeth lightly gnawing into his shoulder while my bound wrists went around his neck and hugged him closer to me  His hot breath fanned over my skin, soft whimpers escaping.

"Oh, Grayson! Yes!" The screams spilled from my mouth and In that instant, the heat that was building up finally reached its boiling point and a wave of pleasure washed over my entire body. My legs shook around his hips, soon the rest of my body following in shivers. He wasn't far behind, an aggressive "fuck" emerging from his hot plump lips. I could feel his liquids spill into me, making my orgasm that much more pleasurable.

After we both caught our breaths, he untied my wrists and flopped down beside me. A thin layer of sweat coated our skin as we laid there, looking up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of our own rapid heartbeats.

Before long, a fist was heard against Grayson's bedroom door, followed by Ethan's annoyed tone of voice.  Gray huffed before he got up on his feet and looked down at me, sprawled on the mattress, obviously worn out from the previous activity.

"Stay right there, Princess. Wait for me until I'm done shooting the video, I'm not finished with you yet." He smirked down at the beautiful mess he made out of me before he was out the door.

[caprichans]

incandescent smiles

relationship: seo changbin + lee felix 

setting: convenience store, university/college au 

synopsis: wherein changbin has this habit of smiling at everyone, and felix happens to be a boy with smiles that could light up a thousand suns. 

words:  2402

a short note: i recommend listening to star blossom - doyoung and sejeong! it matches the short story, and it’ll be cute if you read it while listening to this song, promise!

The thing about Seo Changbin was that he always smiles, as in always smiles at the strangers he first sees. 

It's not like he's obliged to or anything, it's just become a rather appreciative habit of him to smile at people whenever they look at each other. Whether it'd be in the school hallways, the vending shops, or even during dinners with his family, Changbin always smiled when people looked at him. It's puzzling, really, when a man who pulls off a resting face can still manage to smile at people, and maybe even make their day. It made him conscious to the point where he vowed to never smile again for the rest of his life. He was a boy of thirteen at that time, young, and still full of fresh ideas. He remembered the time where he attempted to give his mom a foul look, one that screamed, "I don't smile anymore!" Yet, everything backfired when his mom teased him for acting like such a tough boy. Ever since then, Changbin has given up on trying to let go of his smiling habit. It's annoying sometimes, but he gets used to it by the day he grows older. It happened again during a trip to the convenience store. Changbin had just gotten off of college, denim jacket pulled to the black shirt that stuck to his skin, rimmed glasses perched on his bridge, and earphones stuck to his earbuds as he tried to search for inspiration to craft his final song. It was a part of his thesis, you see, to submit a solid, three-minute song, verses and all. Changbin's been told that he excelled well in this sort of field, and he had to admit, he was comfortable in this sort of project, so everything was a piece of cake for him. He had Chan and Jisung teaming up with him, anyway. They'd submit a perfect piece in no time. As he worked his way through the entrance, he sauntered through the aisles in search for some ramyun, and perhaps a few hotdogs for the bunch. He took into consideration the tendencies Chan has to overwork himself during the leeway hours of their submission, and he knew Jisung would kill for some shitty convenience store coffee. (Which, by the way, tasted pretty good for Changbin. What's not to like about French Vanilla coffee?) He did his deed nevertheless, and hummed over a few tunes before settling over to the hotdog stand to grab a hold of some steamy buns and some nice, steamed sausages. Then, just then, as he picked his first steamy bun, he saw him. It was very brief at first; the boy entered the convenience store in a set of headphones, eyes half-lidded and almost exhausted, and sweat that stuck from the sides of his neck and some strands of his golden blonde hair. He sauntered past a distracted Changbin at first, as he looked for some hopes of a steamed pork bun or some coffee. Luck was on his side, and clasped his hands in a small delight once he had found his desires. That's how Changbin found him now, perched up against the coffee machine as he squinted to read the hangul, almost mouthing the characters as if he were a kid in kindergarten. It made Changbin wonder at first, until he came to the conclusion that the boy was practically foreign. He could tell by how lost he seemed by the coffee machine, not knowing which buttons to press, and by how he cursed to himself in something that sounded like English. Changbin wouldn't know. He scored poorly on his English grades. He had Aussie Boy Chan to thank him for his English stock knowledge. Changbin hadn't realized that he was staring a little too long at the boy of wonders, that his stare seemed to pick up on the boy. As if time had suddenly stood still, the two made eye contact, connecting doe-like shiny eyes with low, slumped ones. Oh shit, Changbin panicked momentarily, you know what's coming. You definitely know what's coming and I suggest you look away now— He perked a smile at the boy. As expected of Seo Changbin, expert smiley guy at random strangers. God, he needs to control his habits sometimes. Unexpected of him, he sought the boy to be smiling back at him as well, showcasing an adorable set of freckles to dust his cheeks and his eyes to crinkle in crescents for a split second before meeting shy eyes with the coffee machine once more. The response left Changbin dumbfounded as he stood by the hotdog machine, holding a fresh, steamy hotdog on his hands. Huh, did not...expect that. Changbin's ears grew red. Never thought that the cute guy with freckles smiled at strangers too. He could feel his neck grow hot as well by just the replay of his smile on his head. Oh, Jeremy. Changbin's buffering. "Uh, hey." He spoke for the first time since he left his apartment, voice a little hoarse from much disuse as he peeked at the boy at the coffee machine. "Do you need help, um, over there?" You're doing great, Seo! Definitely not awkward. The boy shot his head up at his call, then blinked once, twice, before nodding in what almost seemed like desperation. "Yes, please. I'm sort of lost." Changbin noted the accent that filled his Korean, and needless to say, Changbin digs those accents, but you didn't hear that from him. He went over to his side instead, and began explaining what each flavor was, what each button meant, where each cup was placed. The boy tried to follow in an equal pace, and Changbin could almost hear calculating sounds running through the edge of the boy's mind as he went through the process slowly. "You can just place your cup here, and let the coffee machine do its magic. If I suggest, you should pick French Vanilla." He gestured to the button at the middle. "It's the only coffee that's less shitty in this convenience store, if you ask me."

The boy made a small ‘o’ with his mouth, and beamed at Changbin with gratitude within the look of his eyes. “Thank you! God, I thought I’d never get it. Pretty stupid, if you think about it, considering that this is just a coffee machine and I’m surrounded by a population of foreigners. I just had to do better.” He groaned, rolling his eyes upward and squeezing them shut for a while, probably to get the stress and strain off his eyes. Now that he mentioned it, Changbin noticed that he looked rather exhausted earlier. His bags weren’t hard to miss, and he noticed that it was past 8PM to be coming from the university. The boy probably had extra hours on something, though Changbin isn’t the one to prod on one’s personal affairs.

He nodded instead, giving one last small smile before patting his back pockets for nothing in particular. “No problem. I’ll just be on my way, then.” He tilted his head toward the hotdog stand, and awkwardly made his way to it once more, trying to ignore the way the boy’s eyes were still trained on Changbin. It took about three seconds for Changbin’s racing heart to subside, and by that time, the boy’s eyes were no longer fixed on him, but at the coffee machine that he now understood how to use it. He doesn’t know why his heart sudden escalated, but he hoped that it’s because of his small social anxiety rather than the fact that the boy was absolutely adorable with the way he talked, the way he smiled, the way he did everything in a span of ten minutes to make Changbin feel this way. He recalled a time within the night where the three of them were at their peak of insanity, and Jisung suddenly started talking about some alternate universe where people would puke flowers after developing a crush on that certain person. Changbin thought that was utter bullshit, but Chan was just as immersed as Jisung was.

“Thank God I’m not coughing out seeds, if such a disease were even real.” Changbin scoffed to himself, before shutting the hotdog stand and making his way toward the counter to pay for his food. His thoughts on the boy were grazed in the center of his mind as he purchased, all senses hovering to the small encounter that happened not too long ago. He couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about him, but how could he when his smile could literally light up a thousand suns from thousands of galaxies. Changbin knew he had to stop thinking about some stranger, but why wasn’t he stopping?

As if fate had decided to play a little more, he suddenly felt a thud and a splash of something, followed by a frustrated groan behind him. Changbin whipped his head towards his back, and found—oh, how lovely—the boy of his thoughts in a middle of his own crisis as the coffee dropped from his hands and into the floors. Flushed from embarrassment, the boy immediately apologized to the counter for making such a mess, and hurriedly scrambled to wipe his own mess with his clothes. Changbin saw the counter rush over to tell him that they’ll handle it, and speak some words of reassurance before they went over to handle Changbin’s items before going over to the spillage. He grabbed for the plastic bag, and almost decided to just let the boy handle his own mess and leave the store, only he didn’t. He stopped short in the entrance, and took one glance at the boy, who was currently slapping the back of his neck in hopes to help him wake up more. He furrowed his eyebrows, and hummed. The boy was close to tired, and clearly that coffee incident was a wake-up call for him. Maybe he should do something. Yeah, that’s right, maybe pay for his coffee, or even treat him to some coffee if his budget allows it.

“Hey,” Changbin went to the boy once again, and tapped him on the shoulder to grab his attention, “maybe I should treat you to coffee? You seemed out of it today, so I wanted to do something to gain myself good boy points. Well, how about it?”

The boy blinked once, twice, until he scoffed one of his adorable grins that was enough to send Changbin orbiting to outer space. “You’re an odd one. You trust strangers easily, or are you just that friendly?” He went over to the coffee machine once more, Changbin following closely with a roll of his eyes. “It’s not like you’re out to assassinate me, or rob the cash in this store. You’re too—“ He paused there, and froze at what he was just about to say that could most likely embarrass himself in front of the boy. The latter, on the other hand, raised a brow in amusement as he inched closer. “I’m too…what?”

Changbin sighed, slumping his shoulders and glancing elsewhere before looking back at the boy. “You’re too…” He made his voice tiny, almost inaudible for people other than the boy to hear, “nice for that. At least you seem nice, unless you do have a gun and you are here to assassinate me. Fuck, I’m doomed.”

The boy lit up at his response, eyes crinkling into those lovely crescent ones and his grin showcasing his teeth along with his laughter. It was near blinding, and good enough to set Changbin’s heart pumping once more as his stomach twisted at the sight. He knew that he wasn’t the one with such humor, but to know that a man could laugh at his remark, it was enough to make Changbin feel good about himself. He smiled automatically in response, albeit a little more bashful than his normal ones. The boy, on the other hand, gleamed at him. “You’re so funny! You’re literally making my day as we speak right now.” He gave him a paper cup from where Changbin had told him so earlier, and nodded. “Here, let me give you your good boy points. You deserve it for making me laugh today.” Changbin doesn’t miss the way his grin still stood in place, and neither did he miss the way his stomach twisted more and his heart thumped louder.

Perhaps he’s never been this gay before. Perhaps he should tell Chan and Jisung that he’ll be coming home a little later than usual.

“I’m Felix, by the way.” The boy outstretched his hand, his smile still on place, yet brighter for some reason. Felix, Changbin pondered, wondering if he should say it the way he said it, or how his peers would usually say it. Nevertheless, it was a decent name, and that was enough for Changbin. He took his outstretched hand, and gave an equal expression to the boy, now called Felix. “Changbin. It’s nice to meet you, I guess?”

Changbin wondered if Felix ever got tired of smiling, because from what it seems like that fifth or sixth time today—Changbin never took count—Felix smiled at him once more, followed by a fit of fond giggles that sounded on his throat. “You guess, huh? Well, it’s your turn to make the coffee, Mr. I-Guess Changbin.”

The man in statement scoffed a laugh, rolling his eyes at such a nickname given before proceeding to press the familiar buttons he had once taught Felix. It’s pretty amusing, he thought, that back in the day, his thirteen-year old dramatic self would frown all day long, believing that nothing good would ever come out of smiling. He’s twenty-years old now, already given up on that belief, and now exchanged with a new one that something good did come out of his smiling habits. The thought in itself was enough to make Changbin smile yet again, as he walked with the boy who had freckles for cheeks and smiles for a thousand suns. The boy, who apparently didn’t know how to work the coffee machine because he couldn’t read all the complicated hangul well yet. The boy, named Lee Felix, who made Changbin’s day by just smiling; Changbin sure wouldn’t have it any other way with his smiles either.

What can he say? Old habits die hard.

[thunder-birb]

The 5 times Tamaki accidentally confessed to Mirio and the one time he didn’t have to

Mini Series Part II 

2.

“Tamaki! Hey! I hope you don’t mind me joining you” The familiar weight of Mirio, nudging against my shoulder for the briefest of moments and then preceding to scoot a few inches away from me to give me some space; is one of the nicest, most unassuming gestures anyone has done for me. Most people like my parents, sister and even some of our teachers presume that they know exactly what I need when I’m feeling clammed up or nervous. However, that usually takes a turn for the worse and the guilt of making everyone worry about me always elevates my anxiety.

That’s why most people have resigned to not doing anything at all. And in most circumstances, I would actually prefer this method, but there are those moments in which being alone is the worse possible decision I have ever made in my life. Because then, nothing hinders my mind from spiralling into a poisonous cycle of crippling vitriolic thoughts.

Enter Mirio Togata. He has witnessed a fair share of my anxiety spells and usually lets the ‘capable adults’ deal with it. However, when it is just the two of us, Mirio has the brightest idea of all and simply asks me what I need. No one and I mean no one, has ever done that approach and through many incidents, I learned, just as much as Mirio, that I actually don’t like being by myself when it happens.

It still doesn’t mean I also want to be enveloped with attention either. That just makes me feel suffocated, cornered and incapable of handling my own emotions. So, Mirio does what he does best and just stays by me instead. He lays on the grass when we’re outside at the park or watches Television when we’re sitting in his couch or continues to read his favorite comic; ready to talk about it if I need to or not say anything at all.

He gives me the space I need to pull myself together again and does not try to fix what isn’t his to solve.

Today is one of those days and surely enough Mirio is laying on the grass next to me by the soccer field, his school jacket bunched up together as his makeshift pillow with pocky in his mouth and a new manga volume he’s been dying to read. He’s really into his manga that he doesn’t even notice me watching him; observing how he’s almost finished his first box of pocky all by himself. Or how he’s been tapping his white sneakers to the beat of another one of his favorite rock ballads. Sometimes he even starts humming absentmindedly, but I get too nervous to ask him what he’s actually singing in case it embarrasses him and I’ll never hear him humm again.

“Hey, you’re back. Everything alright?” He stops tapping his foot and drops the manga to his chest. Then, he places his hands behind his head and turns to peer at me, blue button eyes shining in the sunlight reflecting the ocean-like hues of the sky above.

“Yeah… It’s just-- Everyone always expects something from me. The teachers, the students, my parents and I can never give them what they want. I can’t even manifest anything more than a lousy bud, but they still want more just because I lucked out and got a really ‘cool quirk.’ Too bad I’m terrible at everything I do and-- ” I start to explain, but the feelings of disappointment and frustration begin to flood my consciousness and I just don’t want to go back to the gym with everyone’s eyes on me.

I shake my head and tightly shut my eyes, trying not to think about how I could not for the life of me do anything worthy of my quirk. Not with everyone watching, eyes heavy with anticipation, making me short of breath and prickling with nerves that I know I’m visibly shaking.

Just Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In.

And that’s when he starts singing. No longer only to himself.

“Here are days where things don’t go well

But even in the scarce light filtering through the leaves

I can still feel the same sun

Even if it’s a dream where I’m covered in snow

I will keep going your way

I believe I will go walking this road

So as not to lose my way”

It’s almost a crime that Mirio can actually belt a note without sounding like a seal. I already can’t see his flaws as flaws, but silly attributes or even as quirks before that became the national term for our mutations. So naturally, everything good about him unsettles every fiber of my body, but in a crazy good way. Too good that I feel like I might throw up sometimes.

“Oh man! Sorry you had to hear that!” He laughs, the rich kind that’s a little exaggerated at the end to show he’s starting to get self-conscious. “I was only gonna sing a line or two, but that song just really gets me going you know? And I figure maybe it can help you, too” Mirio pinks a little bit, which does further damage to my Broca area that I could no longer speak or look at him without physically hurting from his brightness.

“That bad huh? I’m sorry Tamaki! As a hero I will do everyone’s ears a favor and never sing again!” he laughs, self-awareness out the window and resigns to looking up at the sky.

☀️☀️☀️

I don’t know exactly how many minutes we spend laying in complete silence, watching the cottony clouds take form and float by like strangers in passing at the crosswalk, but it settles the last bits of my nerves. Mirio proceeds to point out really rad looking cloud shapes, and swears one even looks like a bowl of ramen. I chuckle not seeing it at all, but Mirio insists and surely enough so does his stomach as it growls particularly loud and hangry.

We turn our heads at the same time and laugh so hard my cheeks starts to hurt. I try to avoid Mirio’s face because now both my stomach and cheek muscles are starting to tighten, but it’s so hard to resist looking when he’s smiling so vividly that his ears are turning pink. In an attempt to stop, he gets up, but somehow trips on the way up and falls on his bum.

We laugh even harder and now I really have to stop. My face is turning red from straining itself and the pain is getting unbearable, so I start doing the breathing exercises my sister advises I practice. I am so caught up in centering myself, I don’t notice Mirio get up, put his jacket back on, throw his trash in the bin and stash his manga back in his duffel bag. He has his hand out for me by the time I open my eyes and I gulp down the nerves attempting to choke me up. Wow his face is real close and ears still a little rosy.

“C’mon Tamaki! Let’s get some food!” He suggests and I nod, shying away from his gaze as he kindly pulls me up. I bite down on my lip, trying to gain some control of myself and we head to the night market Mirio frequents.

The smell of beef, barbeque, and fried seafood of every kind has us salivating and we make quick steps towards his favorite stand. The old man greets us with his signature smile and Mirio makes small talk as he does with everyone. After ordering, we sit at our usual spot at the far right end of the stall and start devouring our noodles the moment the Ojichan hands it to us.

We finish our food quickly as if we have not eaten the whole day and by the time we clean our bowl, I feel so full, so happy and like I can do anything.

“Hey Mirio, watch this!” I call his attention and manifest my left arm into the noodles we just ate. It’s stupid and spontaneous and I don’t even really think it’ll work, but Mirio’s jaw drops so low I immediately howl with laughter with my noodle arm (it really worked!) smacking the table. Mirio almost slides off his chair from laughing too much as I continue to flail my noodle arms around. But, eventually everyone starts noticing and we huddle closer in secret. It can’t stop us from playing around too much though and ultimately we are escorted out as usual because we are starting to bother the obachans.

🐙🐙🐙

The walk home feels light and the incident earlier today feels so far away and minor when usually I spend the rest of the time replaying the worst bits of it. But not tonight and we fall into step, strolling through the familiar streets, while Mirio starts humming again. I listen to the melody and realize that it’s definitely the ballad he sang earlier. I get lost in it, crossing the roads in routine that I don’t notice we’re standing in front of my house and how he’s stopped humming for some time now.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow Tamaki! Goodnight~” Mirio waits until I look at him, then squeezes my shoulder and smiles in that way that he does that I couldn’t help the small groan that escapes my throat.

“Goodnight Mirio! Get home safely” I mumble, opening the gate and hurrying through, but then I stop in my tracks and go back outside. It just wouldn’t be right not to tell him. “Mirio wait--” I yell, hoping he isn’t too far away and then he turns his head to look at me.

“Did you forget--”

“You have a great voice!” I yell back trying to hold on to the sudden burst of bravery subduing my innately antsy nature. 

“I mean everything you do is pretty much incredible-” No. Did I just say that out loud?? Crap damage control say something anythingggg “--and uh---I-- I know you’ll master your quirk soon enough too!” word vomit once again takes over me and I’m so freaking nervous after saying that out loud baka baka baka that I keep my head down, shaking worst than earlier. This was a mistake.

“Tamaki, you really overestimate me!” he says back and I slowly lift my head, stopping just below his mouth. “But I always appreciate your kind words of encouragement and if anyone was awesome today, it would be you Noodle Arms! Now that’s cool!” Mirio wiggles his arms around in demonstration even crouching a little so, I see it in my line of vision. Then, soon enough I can’t help, but smile at him and his permeating warmth and enigmatic way of uplifting any bad situation like a real pro hero.

“Say hello to your family for me!” He waves one last time and then turns back to cross the street. I watch him until I can no longer see the blonde hair from afar, just soaking up all the brightness now that it’s at a safe distance from me.

“Tamaki! What did I say about hanging around outside at this time of the night?” my okaasan yells from the front door and I quickly make my way inside. “You know you could just invite him over if you don’t wanna say bye just yet” My mom suggests and I squeak, run past her and head straight to my room.

“Tamaki wait! You have to eat---” was the last I heard before I blast my music, wrap my body in all of my blankets and fall fast asleep from the warmth of the day.

Part 1 of 5

And here is Part II! Thanks to all who have read and liked the story. It really means a lot to me and if anyone is wondering, the song Mirio sang is Yume no Tsubomi by Remioromen (which is the band his Hero name partly came from, if I’m not mistaken). Thanks again and I hope you enjoy this just as much as the first part ^^

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Part 22  Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathalon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs. 

Betas: @fanboyswhereare-you and @girl-tips-from-satan

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 23, 

Author’s Note:

Another quick Ned POV chapter, then we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled program. To the blogs who recently reblogged/suggested this fic, thank you so much, I appreciate it more than I can say!

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 22:

(Words: 1,740)

The gift shop is the smallest part of the hotel and it’s still the size of three classrooms smushed together. It’s stacked with trinkets, magnets, mugs, glass miniatures, and all the other usual sort of souvenirs that glitter back at the sunlight peeking through the windows. Near the front of the store, it smells like a grandmother’s laundry room... likely because the air conditioning is blowing right in my face, making my eyelids click when I blink.

I should get off my phone and go look around, rather than wait for the texting bubbles to pop up again. Oops.

Phone in my pocket, I take a moment to locate everyone. The team is dispersed throughout the aisles. Given how maze-ish the place is, it looks like everybody is in the middle of some slow-motion strategy game, related to either war or hunting.

On one side, near the stuffed donkeys and elephants, Cindy and Sally are flipping through postcards and travel guides. From here, I can’t hear what they’re whispering, but Cindy keeps glancing at Abe.

Abe is totally immersed in the stuffed animals a few feet away. He’s on FaceTime with his dad, holding up various stuffed animals, asking which his sister would like best or if she’s too young to align herself to a political party yet. His dad is laughing and shaking his head while Abe settles on, “I’ll get her the teddy bear with the top hat-- I think it looks pretty politically neutral.” After reminding his dad not to tell anyone about the gifts he’s getting the rest of their family, Abe says goodbye and walks over to show Cindy and Sally the stuffed bear.

MJ is in the middle of the shop. She must be in a hurry, since she buys a Notorious RBG sweatshirt, rips the plastic bit of the tag off with her teeth, and practically shoves herself into it headfirst within 50 seconds. Either she’s gone from mildly annoyed to seriously pissed or she’s wanted the meme-ed out Supreme Court Justice’s face on her clothing for a long time. Knowing MJ, it could totally be either option.

Flash is being an idiot, sulking in the corner. He’s leaning against an advertisement for some new wolf documentary stuck to the window, but his eyes are flickering back and forth from whatever app he’s scrolling through on his phone to Peter talking with Y/N, standing a couple rows up. Maybe he senses me noticing him because he glances suddenly in my direction. We make awkward eye contact before he stiffens and looks away.

He was probably eavesdropping on the two of them. But I don’t have the energy to confront him about it. Not after yesterday and this morning. Instead, I shift my focus to my friends. Peter, mostly.

Oh God, Peter. I can already tell he’s about to be at his utmost annoying the moment we get back to our room. (After we switch the rooms back to normal, at least.)

Standing beside her, he tries to juggle a bunch of keychains for no apparent reason, nearly knocking the shelf over when he fails; Y/N gives him a pitying laugh as she takes them from his hand and organizes them on the shelf where they belong. Her eyes stay on the small task, but Peter’s are practically glued to her face. I think he’s forgotten whatever conversation they were having because there’s a short pause and then the second she turns her head to ask him something, Peter does an odd hop thing like he’s been mildly shocked. Y/N tilts her head, squinting for a moment before moving on to the next overpriced item on the shelf. After a few seconds of finally paying attention, he follows her further down the row.

And I’m standing next to stacks of coffee mugs. I should probably rescue Peter now before he makes a fool of himself. Or a bigger one, I should say.

I pass Flash -- well, sort of, since he’s three rows away -- as I walk toward them. He ignores me like usual, so I ignore him too.

Neither Peter or Y/N notice me approach; they’re lightly arguing. She’s shaking her head and groaning in discontent. It seems playful, but there’s a real hesitance to whatever she’s resisting. Peter sounds like he’s trying to tone down his own grin and failing miserably.

“Nope, no way out of it. You have to choose,” Peter says, half smirking. “Necklace or bracelet?”

She shakes her head again, at a slight loss for words.

“What, so I can feel handcuffed to you? Those necklaces are practically chokers, they’re so short.”

Whatever they’re talking about, it’s definitely the perfect spot for me to jump in.

“Handcuffs and chokers?” I ask, mock shocked. “Kinky.”

They both turn at the same time. Y/N’s face lights up when she sees me. Her cheeks are a bit pink but there’s no doubt she knows I’m joking. Behind her, Peter gives me a Why are you always like this? exasperated look with a somewhat darker blush.

“Ned!” she says. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Too engrossed in handcuffs?”

There’s a grin on my face now and she returns a tired, close mouthed smile. It’s only at this point that I realize how exhausted she looks. The darkness under her eyes combined with her tense posture seems to cloak her whole body with a faintly haunted, paranoid even, halo.

Nonetheless, she seems tempted to laugh and hit me. Instead rolls her eyes and takes a step to the side.

“Peter, show Ned what you wanted to buy.”

Peter opens his hands. One has a short necklace, the other a bracelet. Both are fake gold and have half hearts with something written on each. It might be best friends?

Dear God. Way to be subtle, Peter, you idiot.

“Y/N and I agreed we need to work on our friendship,” he explains hesitantly, as if he’s just now realizing how fumblingly obvious he’s being. “So, friendship… stuff…?” He almost cringes at his own words.

Don’t laugh, Ned, I tell myself. Don’t you dare do it.

Before I can comment, MJ’s voice cuts in from the back of the shop and we all turn.

She’s standing in front of Flash, near the door, in a stance that suggests she wants to push him out of her way, or down to the ground. Man, he must be desperate or stupid to attempt to talk to her right now.

“Whatever it is, go tell her yourself!” she half shouts, hands reaching up to her hair. “Leave me out of it, I don’t care!”

MJ shoulders past him, not enough to knock him over, but certainly enough to leave him jostled and lost. His back rises and falls like he’s taking deep breaths. He turns to look directly at Y/N, expression somewhere between frustration and… sadness? That can’t be right.

As I try to riddle out whatever’s going on, replay the reasons why MJ would be this mad at him and what it has to do with Y/N, I hear Y/N make an almost silent strangled sound beside me. Knowing there’s no way to stop her from whatever she’s about to do, I shut my eyes and curse Flash for being born.

When I open them, I see that MJ has planted herself in a hotel lobby chair outside the shop with her hood pulled up, arms and legs crossed, sunk deep into the soft leather. Mr. Harrington, sitting in the seat adjacent, moves to ask her a question but she yanks the strings of the hoodie and it closes around her face like an annoyed collapsing black hole.

Y/N takes a quiet breath and Peter tenses on my right. Before he can open his mouth, Y/N says she’ll be right back with a tone that explains nothing and warns us both not to intervene.

I look at Peter, who looks at me, and we both watch her approach Flash. If I know Peter at all, I’m sure his feet are itching to race over to them too.

With her back to us, we can’t see her expression or hear anything she says. All we can do is catch glimpses of Flash, who keeps trying to interrupt her and losing. After about forty seconds they start to argue, or at least that’s what I’d guess from the angry gestures.

When she starts to leave, Flash grabs her hand. A red flag goes up in my head. That’s an idiotic move. Y/N smacks it off with the back of her other hand and leaves him struggling to say… something. I’m bad at reading lips.

Kinda looks like, Keanu just loves truly. Reeves? But I’m 98% certain that’s wrong.

Well, all the same, that clarifies nothing.

As she quickly starts walking back over to me and Peter, I turn my head to ask what he thinks just happened, but he isn’t there. Well, he is, he’s just further down the aisle, where he nearly knocked everything down a few minutes ago. He grabs something and heads toward the cash register without a word.

“He’s not buying those bracelets, is he?” Y/N asks, slightly out of breath. Standing beside me, we both watch him set something small down on the counter.

“I don’t think so,” I say. 

Really, I have no idea. I couldn’t see what he took, but I’d like to offer her some comfort in whichever ways are currently available.

She bites at a nail.

“Good.” I realize she isn’t meeting my eyes. “It would’ve been… awkward, if he had gotten a pair for the two of us and not you and MJ, right?”

Awkward?

I pause.

Until now, I hadn’t really considered what might happen if Y/N doesn’t like Peter back. I mean, I have reasons to think she does, but I didn’t exactly notice those reasons until I began to look for them. Oh shit, what if she doesn’t?

Still, “awkward” doesn’t have to mean anything significant, right?

I hope not.

“Plus,” she continues, biting her lip for a split second as she watches Peter, “I really don’t want to give Flash any new material to bully him with, you know? Middle school friendship bracelets would be more than enough.”

I nod as Peter finishes his purchase. He turns around, smiling at us, lifting a small plastic shopping bag like a greeting.

Man, I hope this is the end of the mess and not the beginning.

Part 23

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[moonbri]

My Mission Is You Pt.3 (Connor x Fem!Reader)

Game: Detroit Become Human

Pairing: Connor x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,780

Series:  [1] , [2] , Part 3/?  , [4]

Note:  This is the part where things get a bit crazy... warning for blood and injury. Also for a bit of angst and fluff :3

Taglist: @omelys-space @oliolioxiclean

~~~~~~~~~

In the afternoon we received a very unusual yet troubling report of androids hijacking the Stratford Tower to broadcast a message. A bunch of DPD officers were going to investigate, including me and my team. 

Hank drove all three of us there in his car. His loud music drowning out my thoughts. “Hey Hank. I think you’re the only person I know that still listens to this type of music,” I had to raise my voice to compete with the song’s drums. 

He raises an eyebrow and shrugs, “It’s a shame. People don’t know what good music sounds like anymore. Today all the songs are made by androids.” I nodded in agreement, despite Connor sitting in the back seat. 

“Maybe you have a point there old man,” I joked.

I felt like I needed time to think about things but instead the car parked and we had to investigate floor 79 for clues. 

In the elevator Connor pulled out a quarter and started performing some impressive coin tricks. He went from spinning the coin on the tip of his finger to flinging it from hand to hand. I watched absolutely hypnotized; wondering how he was capable of doing them. 

“That’s pretty cool, Connor,” I remarked standing next to him. 

“Thank you,” he says as a grin slowly appears on his face. 

Hank seemed a little annoyed with it, my guess is Connor does this every time he’s in an elevator.

The elevator doors open to a wide hallway full of officers and FBI. Hank makes a joke, one that causes me to hide a laugh. We’re given a briefing by a familiar face, walking through the floor. A small group of androids made there way to the 79 floor, knocked out two guards, gained access through the security door and broadcasted a message to all of Detroit. 

After the briefing I made my way to the main console and replayed the broadcast message. An android with his skin off talking about freedom, equality, and how androids were alive. Alive? I stared at the screen with my mouth slightly agape. Were androids really becoming sentient? All those deviants we were hunting... are hunting… they just want to be free? 

My heart jumps out of my chest when I spot Connor standing right next to me, causing me to jerk away a bit. I was so caught up in thought I must not have noticed him. 

He looks at me, his LED indicating he was scanning me. “Did I scare you?” he looks apologetic, his eyes soften. 

“Yes you did actually. I was just…” I try to make a joke but trail off in thought.

Connor senses this and attempts to comfort me, “Apologies. I would never purposely scare or… hurt you, (Y/N).” So quiet as to only share it with me. 

He’s looking at me with a look I’ve never seen anyone give me; like we’re the only two in the room. The softest expression on his face. For some reason it hurts to see it.

How can I look at him and say he’s just a machine? Maybe he was deviant and that’s why he seems so human. Or maybe he was feeling emotions and needed help. Already I was holding a secret for him, one I didn’t understand myself. Nothing made sense. 

“I know, Connor.” I try to give a sincere smile but it falls back into a frown. I can’t even fake it. But what I said was genuine. 

“I’m going to investigate the kitchen area. I’ll return shortly.” He then walks passed me, lightly patting my arm. 

The gesture causing me to feel unwanted butterflies in my stomach. My throat tightening. Oh no. I was falling for an android. How did this happen? No it can’t be. I didn’t want to feel anything. It would be better not too.

I needed a distraction. I pushed the thoughts away again, heading over to the wall full of bullet holes. After eyeing the area I came to the conclusion that the deviants were running away from SWAT who were shooting assault rifles in their direction. It made me think of how cruel humans were against androids- not that I didn’t already know I just didn’t think about it as something abnormal. These past few days were opening my eyes to a new world where humans- including me are wrong. 

I was walking near the entrance to the kitchen when I heard a faint “Hank! (Y/N)!” The words strained and practically a whisper. Who was calling me? 

I entered the kitchen to see Connor in dire need of help. An android standing over his weak body, his left hand pinned to the counter by a knife. Connor’s suit ripped open exposing a sliver of his chest, his thirium pump missing.

I couldn’t even think fast enough. I pulled my gun out, attempting to point it at the deviant’s head. But I was too late, the broadcast operating android grabbed a chair hurling it in my direction. I dodged it but failed to defend myself as he charged at me. 

The deviant kicked at my leg, causing me to stumble. A short struggle ensued over the handgun. I could feel it slipping out of my fingers. 

A gun shot went off and my body jerked, a wave of hot pain hit me. Powerless he wrestled my gun out of my hands and ran out of the room. I collapsed to the ground, red liquid pouring out of me. 

I glanced at the left side of my abdomen seeing a hole in my uniform and dark blood oozing out of the wound. While it was one of the most intense moments of pain I had ever felt, I saw that Connor too was dying.

Connor managed to free his hand and fell to the floor too. He was trying his best to reach his thirium pump which was in the middle of the room under a table. I realized he probably would die in minutes without it. 

Fear filled my mind and I felt numb. So I started crawling myself. Using my elbows I inched myself across the tile floor. 

I saw Connor slowing down, blue blood trailing behind him. “Connor wake up! Don’t shut down on me!” 

I found myself close enough to the thirium pump and grabbed the cylinder-shaped object. Then dragged myself to Connor who was face down and non-responsive. When I was within reach I used all my energy to flip him over onto his back. His LED was a fiery red, his eyes closing. 

“No No No,” I was mumbling to myself now panicking. 

I pulled myself into a sitting position next to him and pushed the thirium pump into the empty socket in his chest. Once I heard it click into place I grabbed his left hand checking for serious damage. The stab wound went right through his hand, the interior shined a bright blue, circuits sparking. The blue blood now dripping onto me. 

“Connor come on! You’re gonna be fine now. Please just wake up. Don’t leave me.” The fear returned. What if I’m too late? 

My eyes started watering a bit, making it hard to see. The world was slowing around me. I couldn’t feel my own gunshot wound anymore, my body so numb, I was probably in shock.

Out of desperation I put my other hand on Connor’s chin, turning his head in hopes of waking him up. A few seconds pass and he stirs awake. His eyes dart open and I allow myself to relax. I was still holding his hand and reluctantly let go so he could stand up. 

Connor immediately kneels beside me, looking me over with what appeared to be fear in his eyes. His LED red once again.  I’ve never seen him like this before… he looks terrified. 

He grabs my left wrist, checking for a pulse. “(Y/N)?! Can you hear me? You’re bleeding out.”

I nodded, my eyes struggling to stay open. I then looked at him. “I need you to stop the deviant,” I was whispering the words. I wasn’t strong enough to say them louder. 

Connor shook his head no then held onto my hand, squeezing it. “No I can’t. You need help.” I try to squeeze back, all I manage is a pained smile. 

“Please, Connor. For me.”

The deviant was a threat to everyone around it, and it needed to be dealt with first. Even if that meant I had to wait for rescue. Connor furrowed his eyebrows, looking extremely conflicted. His LED flashing a red indicating the processing. 

“I’ll be right back. Keep pressure on the gun shot wound,” with that he releases my hand and sprints out of the room. 

That’s when the pain really hits. The adrenaline now subsiding and the excruciating agony following. My heart pumping the blood out of my abdomen. Simply raising my hand to my side felt like lifting a hundred pounds. Applying pressure to it was torture. I groaned as the pain shot into my body.

It felt like an eternity had passed. I was staring at my wound, my blood gushing out despite my best efforts. Then an old man rushed into the room and towards me. 

“Christ! (Y/N) what happened?!” 

Hank sees my gun shot wound and he starts freaking out too. It’s when I look at him do I hear a succession of bullets being shot outside the room. 

My eyes widen,” Where’s Connor?” Hank gently presses against the wound causing me to tense up. He didn’t react at all to the gunshots. 

“He yelled at me to help you then ran off. I didn’t know what got into him but I see now. We need to take you to the hospital.”

Hank supporting my back and shoulder as I tried to stand up. All I wanted was to lie down. Everything was shifting, my head foggy. It felt like I hadn’t slept in days. I struggled keeping my balance. I couldn’t feel half my body and that terrified me. 

My hands were gripping Hank’s left shoulder for life. Connor returns to me as fast as a gust of wind, he goes to my side and helps steady me. 

Each second that passes makes me drift further away. I temporary lose control of my legs, Connor decides to carry me. My legs and back supported by his arms. 

Hank calls in the incident “We’ve got an officer down!” 

I feel myself fully relax and with that my eyes close shut. I can’t think anymore, I can’t open my eyes, or move. And I don’t feel anything. Just the black void surrounding me.