#its been angst button getting pressed because he chose to go into hiding with the Eremites to avoid the BS pre Sumeru AQ had going on

[petitexmagician]

"Happy birthday Ethan!" The shorter brunette of the two jumped behind him with a grin - said birthday boy however? Stumbled out a laugh

"Thanks Zee.."

[bonny-kookoo]

Cat Eyes (JJK x Reader) ❤️☁️🔞🐾

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Human!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Fluff/romance, Strangers to lovers?, slight angst, smut

Warnings: discussion of homelessness and unfairness against hybrids, mild mention of past abuse, trust issues, Sweet Koo, smut because duh, lovemaking it’s so sweet yall, dirty talk but only minor, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, doggy style, mild biting, yeah that’s it this time wait for part two oh my

Summary: on the streets, cast out. Just another week for you, but somehow you wonder if this stranger might mean a change for you.

Or alternatively: Jungkook feeds you and you’re kinda grateful for that.

Its cold, but you've been preparing for that outcome for a long time already. Being born as a hybrid, a simple housecat at that, you had nothing special or rewarding about you, making you just a pet getting passed around from person to person as soon as you got too boring to keep around.

This was a regular thing for you. The fact that you got kicked out so many times already made you wary of actually possessing any belongings at all, not even owning a phone or clothes you could consider your own- merely the things you currently wore, drenched in the water that had been dribbling from the skies in rough speeds, hood over your head already useless at keeping your hair and ears dry. But it was okay. This was normal for you, after all.

Sitting down between two glowing vending machines located behind a small convenience store, you tried to warm yourself up with the small amount of heat radiating off of the two metal machines- not really being successful, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It's been three weeks already like this, trying to find a place to catch some sleep before roaming the streets again, searching for food and sometimes even finding a bit of money on the street. You didn't have a collar, so you had to hide your hybrid features well- not like you'd like to show your dirty fur anytime soon anyways.

Yawning before turning a bit, shoes squeaking a bit with the amount of water inside them, you closed your eyes, mind focusing on the buzzing next to your head, trying to use it as a form of lullaby to soothe you into sleeping a bit. Yet you were disturbed by someone pressing the buttons and inserting money into the vending machine, the loud noises of the soda can banging against the metal interior loudly enough to make you press your ears flat against your skull. You hoped whoever was craving the beverage was a human or didn't pay attention to you; but again- you were out of luck.

"Huh?" Came the humming question of a male voice, and you instantly tensed up as a warm hand was placed on your wet shoulder. "Hey.. you okay?" The voice asked, and you imagined his Umbrella shielding him from the rain, the pitter patter of it on the plastic fabric an indication that he probably used one. You weren't an impressive predator like a Tiger or a Leopard, but you certainly could distinguish noises from one another to see things around you, even without using your eyes. "Can you hear me?" He asked gently, and you wanted to turn around, scoff in his face that yes, you did, you just chose not to. "Do you have an owner.?" Well, piss. Seems like hiding your features didn't do much as well.

You only turned a bit, hood catching on a pointed piece of metal from the vending machine, making it reveal one of your wet ears to him, as well as a piece of the side of your face. You only saw him with one eye, but you already knew he was on the far opposite of the food chain- expensive suit and sparkling rolex on his wrist, connected to the tattooed hand holding his black umbrella almost mocking you as he looked at you with pity. You spotted his ears, or more lack thereof, already wanting to cry at them; a human like him didn't know the things you were going through. That's probably why he'd asked if you were owned immediately, and you wanted to laugh. Yet your croaky voice didn't say these things. It only stated the obvious. "No." Because you really didn't- the official timespan was two weeks, after that, a formerly owned hybrid was officially considered a stray if it went missing. You didn't belong to anyone other than the state itself- which was why you had to hide so well, to not get thrown into an adoption center again.

The stranger furrowed his brows a bit, before leaving. Well, at least he took the hint, you thought, before he came back again, placing a white bag with some plastic items down in front of you, before putting his umbrella over your head, the rain suddenly stopping from falling down on you. You looked downwards, at the plastic container- sushi? Dumplings? And another one that steamed a bit- rice? You didn't get it, but still turned around a bit, watching him warily as if you were waiting for him to yell sike and run away. Yet he didn't, simply scooting a bit closer to not get the rain onto his head, and waiting. The sound of cars passing by and some music being played somewhere was the only noise surrounding you for a bit, before you hesitantly reached out for the containers, always keeping an eye on him. He simply smiled when you started to unpack the plastic foil of the cheap chopsticks, digging into the hot rice as if it was a five star meal. You could practically feel it warming up your belly, making you suppress a sigh as you got lost in consuming the food he'd bought.

Only once you were finished, not being able to eat everything, did he actually move. He grabbed some of the leftovers, eating them until he took the boxes and put them into the trash nearby. You looked at him with a questioning gaze. Would he want anything from you now? You didn't trust his angelic features at all if you were being honest. "You're probably not gonna want to come home with me and thats fine." He said, before looking at you. "I'll leave the umbrella here, alright? Lets hope the rain stops soon." He mumbled, getting up, making you look up to him as he slowly turned around, giving you a small wave. "Goodnight. Stay safe." He simply said, before jogging to his car.

Huh. What a weird guy.

Jeon Jungkook was his name as he'd introduced himself on the second day of visiting you behind the convenience store, and he was indeed a weird human. He made it a simple casualty- visiting you every day after work with food, having full conversations with you, and asking about your day and life in general. He himself noticed a slight spark returning to your eyes, interest peaking in those orbs as you talked to him more and more. You were a quiet girl, not really giving away much about you, but managing to make him feel like he knew you. You were smart, and he liked that. After almost a week of daily conversations, he finally popped the question.

"Do you want to come home with me?" He asked, making you look up from your can of soup he'd bought you this time. You thought for a bit before shrugging. At this point he'd invested so much into feeding you that it felt like you had to- simply as a form of repayment. He smiled, before leaning his head a bit to the side, voice low and serious. "You don't have to. I'm simply offering." He said, and you put down the empty can, nodding.

"Alright." You said, and he grinned, standing up and putting the trash away before closing the umbrella still hanging over the vending machines, turning around. His eyes widened a bit at just how short you were, yet he found it endearing. He led you to his car, not caring that his cream colored interior could be stained with your admittedly dirty clothing and shoes. He'd pay someone to clean it the next day, and all would be fine.

"So uhm.." You began, unsure what would happen now. "What am I supposed to do when we get to your place?" You asked, and after a moment of realization, his ears turned red.

"No no no, I'm, oh my.." He cleared his throat for a moment, before he threw one leg over the other, as to make himself seem more sure of himself than he actually was. "I'm not that kind of person." He explains calmly, as he waves his hand to the driver, who nodded, before the window to the front closes, giving you two some privacy. "I simply saw you there and.. I don't know. I couldn't just leave you there." He said, and you nodded.

"So it's for your repuptation." You said. "I guess you're an investor then?" You knew people like him. Their initial thought was nice, but at the end of the day it was only for personal gain. Well, at least he'd keep you around for some months before the public would slowly forget about you again. You've been through that as a young kitten.

But he shook his head. "I am an investor, yeah- but I don't plan on showing you to the public eye. I don't want anything of you other than your company." You opened your mouth again, but he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. "Not like that." He began. "My apartment is.. big. Huge. But it's also empty. A friend of mine had told me I should get a hybrid, and I genuinely considered. I was actually at a shelter the day we first met." He explained, and you nodded. "I didn't find anyone I was.. okay with, I guess. I can't just let anyone into my life, you know. Most people only want something, just to leave right after. When I saw you, yeah, at first it was pure pity, I won't lie." You nodded, watching him. "But the more we talked, the more I realized how compatible we were." Well, this was new. "I won't be home much, because I work a lot, but I don't like being lonely." He turns to you, serious. "If you're comfortable with it, I'd like you to simply be a companion. Someone who shares my home with me, accompanies me to those absolutely boring dinners I have to endure every week or so, and who sometimes maybe comes to work with me. If you simply want to stay home however, that's fine as well." He says, and you nod.

"Can I.. think about it?" You ask, and he nods, a gentle smile adoring his lips. The rest of the ride is filled with comfortable silence, and you almost drift off to sleep, but you arrive at his apartment complex before you can fully float away. There's nothing said between the two of you as he leads you inside the hallway of the building, a hand on the small of your back as if to make sure you won't get lost, his figure always close to shield you from wary eyes of the security and other residents walking by. Inside the elevator, silence is still present, until someone joins you two; a tall man, a little older than your now soon-to-be Master, who looks at you, and then at your Master.

"Ah, so you have finally found someone for you? I'm happy for you Jungkook." He says,a smile on his lips. "My name is Kim Seokjin my dear, may I ask yours?" He speaks, and you look at Jungkook close to you as if you were expecting him to answer for you- like it was typical. But he only smiled as well, nodding towards you in encouragement, so you, quietly, answered with a small bow of your head. "Ah, a shy one isn't she? But very pretty, I have to say." He said, and Jungkook chuckled as if to accompany that statement. "Ah, well. Please think about the company dinner next saturday, and oh!" Seokjin said as he left the elevator, hand holding the elevator door open for a moment as he looked at you one last time. "Bring her along, yeah? I heard that Jimin is bringing Yoongi as well. A good chance for her to make friends.!" He said, before winking, and waving goodbye- leaving you and Jungkook inside the elevator to climb a few more levels higher.

"Don't feel pressured now, please." Jungkook said, as the elevator chimed, the two of you stepping out as he walked past you to open his apartment door. "You don't have to if its too soon." He said, before opening his door.

He didn't lie when he said his apartment was big, but you never truly saw a skyline like that. It was a breathtaking view outside the windows, and it took a moment until you could finally avert your eyes to scan the rest. It felt.. almost sterile, in a way. Nothing truly screamed his name at you, neither the furniture, nor wall decorations. A few pictures were hung up, but other than that, the apartment looked like it got pulled straight out of an interior design magazine. "It's pretty bland, isn't it?" He lowly said, as he turned on some of the lights, hanging up his coat on the hanger next to the door as he untied his shoes. "I know it does. I.. hope that'll change, maybe." He said, before he made his way into the open kitchen. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? I can just show you your room and leave you be as well, yeah, that would probably be a good idea. Let me show you." He said, and you followed him after taking your own shoes off as well.

It was a rare occurence to have a room for yourself- so much so, that you only remember having one as a kitten, when it had been necessary. Stepping inside, you noticed the crisp air; he'd opened the window to air it out, it seemed. There was a bed in the corner, a wardrobe and a mirror- as well as a door that connected to a bathroom, right now void of light. "I'll leave you be for now. There are some of my old clothes so you have something to sleep in- don't worry, I washed them so you won't get my scent on you just yet, I know it makes hybrids a bit fussy." He chuckled, and nodded towards you with a smile. "If you want to, you can come out, if you don't stay inside, I won't be mad. I'll have the day off tomorrow and after, so we should use that time to get you some clothes if you want." He suggested, and you nodded into his direction. He bowed a bit, before leaving the room, and you alone.

You waited a bit so his footsteps got out of reach, before you walked around a bit. The room was bigger than the one you had as a kitten, but still small enough to be considered a guest room. Your first goal however, was the bathroom. Grabbing the clothes he had left you, you noticed immediately that it had been washed with hybrid proof detergent- a brand called 'noscent' which was typically used for newly homed hybrids so they wouldn't get overwhelmed. How he knew of that was unclear to you, but maybe he did have a hybrid before, or a friend told him. It didn't matter though, because you knew this was timed. Better make the most out of it. So as you climbed into the bathtub, soapy scent around you as you washed yourself squeaky clean, you felt okay again. Now was the time to mend yourself together, figure out what your master liked so you could make your stay as comfortable for everyone involved as possible, and just enjoy the good sides while rushing the bad.

But somehow there was a weird feeling in your gut.

Maybe things were really about to change this time.

The next morning was calm. Apart from something clattering in the kitchen, you awoke by yourself, shocked to see it almost being twelve. Why had he not woken you up, when he so clearly implied yesterday that he had plans with you today? For a moment you wondered if maybe this had been a test, but judging by his whistling in the kitchen, he was in a good attitude still.

So you went for it.

Simply brushing your hair and tail, you stepped out the room, smell of food immediately meeting your nose. "I was about to wake you." He said without turning, as he grabbed another bowl to fill. "I figured I'd let you sleep after all that change so you could rest well. Good morning." He said, finally turning around, making you gasp internally a bit.

You knew that his hand was tattooed, but what now showed was his entire forearm covered in ink. Completely different from yesterday, he wore a simple grey sweater and sweatpants combo, hair in a messy tiny ponytail on his head. He looked so.. young, yet masculine, not at all like the businessman you had encountered before. But it was a nice change; because if he let you see himself like this, he really was intending to have you around for longer, and was working towards a more personal companionship. Maybe he really did want you as a companion for himself, not his outside persona.

You sat down at the table before stopping immediately, eyes widening. He seemed to notice this however, chuckling as he placed a warm hand on your shoulder, helping you on the chair properly. "You can sit at the table with me, don't worry. Please move around freely; my home is as much mine as it is yours now, okay?" He said, and you nodded. "Thank you." He said, and you watched him for a moment, before you started to eat.

"How.." You started, and he wiped his lips with a tissue before looking at you, attention now on your words. You were grateful for that small gesture. "How do you know that much about hybrids?" You asked, and he smiled.

"Yesterday, Jin-hyung said something about Yoongi, you remember?" You nodded, a bit eagerly, since you were used to remember things that your master said all the time. "Good girl." He said, and it made your skin tingle a bit, as he cleared his throat, a bit shy after letting that slip. "He uhm, Yoongi-hyung is a cat-hybrid as well. His owner is Jimin, who's my coworker. Yoongi was a rescue a few years back, who I asked a bit about what to do if I take someone in who.. you know, wasn't from a shelter. He told me a few things." He explained, and you nodded.

"Why are you calling him Yoongi-hyung though, if he's a hybrid?" You asked, before taking another spoonful. You liked warm food. It made your belly warm.

"Ah." He mused, as he finished his plate, leaning back. "I'm not really following the whole foodchain-order stuff, to be honest. Yoongi-hyung is older than me, my hyung, so that's that. Oh, that reminds me, how old are you?" He asked, and you answered.

"I think.. 22?" You said, and he seemed a bit sad. Did you say something wrong? Did he want someone younger? Someone older?

"Ah, sorry.. but, you think?" He said. "So.. you haven't celebrated your birthday, at all?" He asked, and you shook your head. "Ah thats no good. We'll celebrate it this year, promise!" He said. "You're a bit younger than me, by the way. I'm 25." He said, and you nodded, saving that information inside your brain for future reference. "If you're done we can either go shopping, or if you don't want to, we can shop online. We should do that now though, otherwise you'll have to wait too long for delivery and stuff." He said, and you nodded.

"Do you have a collar for me then?" You asked, and Jungkook grabbed your empty plate to put away. A collar wasn't something he could just not give you- he knew from Yoongi that it wasn't demeaning in any way. Wearing a collar was a form of comfort, it wasn't just an accessory, it was a physical evidence that you were claimed and safe.

"Yoongi gave me one of his older ones, but we can buy a proper one you like today." He said, and dried his hands on a dish towel as he looked at you. "Go and get your shoes, I'll give you one of my coats to wear, and then we can go, yeah?"

Shopping was always a hard one to crack.

This was when you would somehow have to figure out by simply picking the opossum on the road to know if its dead or not- in a sense of; simply point, and wait for the blow. With Jungkook however, there never was one, and it confused you how calm and somehow even happy he was. For example, when you pointed at a pretty expensive collar that wasn't your style just to see how he'd react, you didn't know how to react when he smiled. "Ah, let's look for something more delicate, yeah? The price doesn't bother me, but I doubt that heavy chains suit you kitten." He had simply said, and somehow, the petname made your ears turn towards him, making a nearby bunny hybrid and her owner chuckle.

He'd somehow managed to wiggle under your skin in just a day.

Because somehow, every time he looked at you, helped you reach something, or talked to you about what you liked, it felt so genuine. It felt like he really cared.

"Okay, how about.. oh, this one!" He said, pointing at a collar hidden behind glass- one covered in velvet, with a pretty pattern and a silver plate on the front where your name would be. It was expensive; absolutely mind blowing however, but what made your eyes glisten were his words. "There's a jeweler next door, so we can have your name and ID, as well as my emergency information stamped in." Because, until now, you only had the one's where you slide a paper with all needed info underneath a clear cover- it was easier to replace or give back. But, getting it stamped onto such an expensive collar was definitely something that would last- well, forever. "Or- wait, hey hey, whats wrong? If you don't like it we can buy a different one-"

"I love it." You said, and he led you away from all noise, into a more secluded part of the shop, where he squatted down to properly look at you. "I just.. I..it's..-" You began, and somehow he understood, and had this absolutely frustrating smile again, as he helped you wipe your tears a bit less harshly than you did yourself.

"I haven't said it clear enough yet, haven't I?" He asks, voice warm. "I plan on forever, not just for the moment. What I said when you first came into my apartment was directed at you. I hope you'll make my home feel like a home one day. How can I think about giving you away, when I just got you?" He questions, and you shrug. "I know trust isn't something you give away easily, and thats completely fine. I can also Imagine that you're not too sure of things right now, considering where you came from. But I promise you, I really do-" He says, and takes your hands in his. "I'll stay by your side for as long as you let me." He finishes, and you nod after a moment. "Alright? Alright!" He says, and takes your hand to buy the collar, your eyes still sparkling when you later on watch the lady at the jeweler stamp in your name- and his at the bottom.

Maybe this really was permanent.

At the dinner table with all his colleagues, and the infamous cat hybrid Yoongi next to you, you felt less awkward than you thought you would. Yoongi was a huge help, his calm demeanor helping you to stay composed as well, even under the watchful eyes of the rest of the people. Seokjin had been sweet as well, immediately making you feel welcomed. Jungkook never let you out of his sight, and it made you feel save as well.

It felt good.

Yoongi and you conversed here and there, and occasionally, Jungkook or Jimin, Yoongis owner would chime in, which made it feel as if you were always a part of this. You started to smile a bit, converse more openly, all until a waitress came and turned everything upside down.

"Would you like us to escort the pets to a different table, sir?" She asked Seokjin, who you had learned owned the company Jungkook and his coworkers worked for. He cleared his throat, and shook his head; almost an apologetic look in his eyes as he looked at Yoongi, you, and Taehyung- an independent Tiger-Hybrid with working license, he'd told you. He seemed to clench his teeth as to stay quiet, as the waitress left, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind.

"I'm sorry, please continue." Seokjin said, but the reminder of your status made everyone a bit.. uneasy the rest of the night.

"I'm sorry about the waitress, by the way." Jungkook said, as he helped you into your coat, when everyone was leaving. You shook your head, but he held his unsure expression. "No, I really am. It was uncalled for, and I'm genuinely upset that she phrased it like that." He explained, and you smiled.

"It's okay, Master." You said, which made Yoongis and Taehyungs ears shoot towards your direction, as if on instinct. They didn't look, no, they were discreet. But they still wanted to know what would happen next. "She probably didn't know- after all, it's still quite uncommon to keep hybrids as equal partners nowadays. Change comes slow." You said, but Jungkook suddenly seemed even more serious as he placed his hands on your shoulders, as you looked up at him.

"Jungkook." He said, and you leaned your head to the side in question. "Please, don't.. please just call me Jungkook." He explained, and you nodded, unsure why he was so upset by this. He sighed, before he traced your metal nameplate with his thumb for a fracture of a second, smiling again. "Let's go home." He said, and you nodded, walking after him as he lead the way, not noticing the way that Yoongi and Taehyung shared knowing glances at each other.

When Jungkook came home, he didn't know what exactly made him realize at first. Maybe it was the way your shoes were placed where there used to be none, or how the clothing hangers held your coats and scarfs as well now. Maybe it was the scent, or the rug that was placed on the lightwood laminated floor because your feet were always cold- or maybe it was your body on his couch, covered by a thick blanket he'd bought you recently when the winter became colder. No, it wasn't that- it was what came next. Your ears which flicked into his direction from their place ontop of your head, and the words you uttered next. "Welcome home Kookie!" You said, and he smiled.

He simply walked over to the couch, letting himself lean ontop of you as he squeezed himself behind your body on the couch, holding you securely to his chest as you turned around to face him. He looked tired, but happy and you took in his scent, so distinctive you could probably tell his from a million others just after a second. He sighed, before he ran a hand over your back, cold palm warming up slowly. You were both unsure what exactly you two were- but it was clear that this wasn't just an owner-hybrid companionship anymore. No, the way Jungkook looked at you had something in it that you knew only lovers had; which made you feel so comfortable around him, after all.

So it was only natural, in a way, that after a moment or two, or maybe more (you didn't really notice anymore), you two found each other in his bedroom, a place you had spent your nights before as well. But this time there was no sleeping involved, at least not in that moment, as his hands roamed around, lips chasing yours as you mewled underneath him needily. He wished he could record it, but even if he did it would never sound as sweet as it did right now. Everything felt so good he didn't even care about his own noises, as you two began to shed your clothes one piece after another, until there was nothing to cover you anymore.

"You're so sweet, you know that?" He hummed against your neck, as you squirmed underneath his hands, his inked fingers wandering down between your legs, were you were aching for his touch to make you fall apart. "Even right now, with my fucking hand between your legs, you look so cute." He chuckled, while you could only rut into his palm like a touch-starved pet. He was teasing, and in a way you hated it, but somehow you couldn't tell him to hurry. No, you didn't want him to hurry at all, because you were at the point of realization;

"I love you, Koo." You said, and he stopped for a moment, some seconds that made you feel absolutely humiliated, before he groaned, pushing your legs against your stomach.

"You can't drop something like that onto me like this, Kitten." He scolded playfully, with no harm intended. No, he simply took hold of his already leaking length to guide himself into you, making you squeal in delight before you sighed out. "I love you too, I adore you so much, I swear to everything I have.." He said, as he began to move, almost as if he was unable to quite control himself. Technically, you were the one to act like an animal; but instead, it was him nipping at your skin, and growling out curses that sounded way too filthy to be uttered out from those lips.

You loved it.

The way he held you, played you like a well tuned instrument, how he sped up his pace without warning because he knew you could take it. You were his good kitten after all, all his, and he knew you would be good. You were lost in your own little cloud as his hand went between your bodies again, fingers suddenly flicking your nub in a sadistic movement that had you scream without sound- pleasure shooting through your veins so violently you were unsure if it was pain or heaven that you felt.

"Ah- Koo- I-" You pressed out, but he simply moved his hand away, never stopping however. "I can't-" You said, but he pulled out before you could finish, flipping you onto your stomach where he pulled your lower body upwards, entering you again as he teasingly stroked your tail which flopped down to one side to make space and give him a clear view of where you were connected so intimately.

"You can, kitten. And you will." He growled out, noticing how you were slowly clenching again. "I can feel you, greedy kitty." He growled out, pace growing harsher and harsher as the sound of skin against skin got louder and louder. "Come on. Give me one more, yeah?" He said, and you were unable to answer him. "Come on- come on, there we go-" He pressed out, a whining sound leaving his lips as well as he grew more sloppy, more desperate as you came again, your clenching core pushing him over the edge as well as he spilled inside you, before he pulled out, watching almost hypnotized how his cum dripped out of you after a moment.

"I love you." He said, uncaring of how you two probably stained the sheets right now. "I really do." He said, whispered like a promise, as he pulled your body against him, palms still kneading your breasts.

Because if you thought he was done with you, you were very wrong.

I apologize for how short it was, but I only have my phone for now. Sorry if this sucks, it's not my best work, but I didn't want to leave you hanging and without content for this long.. :< Love, Bunny <3

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (17)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst → smut (dom!jjk themes but only because he can’t control himself lol)

words: 8.2k

    chapter seventeen

Namjoon dropped you off back on campus and was even kind enough – or guilty enough – to offer his help in your search for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to take up any more of his time and, in the case of actually finding Jungkook, you didn’t think you’d make the situation better by having Namjoon with you.

The first thing you did after you exited his car on campus was leave the campus – because you thought that Jungkook may have lingered by the club where Parental Advisory performed tonight; even if his bandmates didn’t seem to think so, since Yoongi insisted they’d lost their lead vocalist – and walking around in the shoes you’d picked today was almost enough to make you regret not asking Namjoon to drive you around, after all.

You hadn’t worn heels but the ballet flats were still not fit for this much walking and, once you circled the club twice and even asked the manager – who was having a smoke outside – if he’d seen Jungkook, you decided that you could understand why Yoongi had been so upset about his bandmate’s disappearance. 

As you returned to campus, you decided that you were also ready to strangle Jungkook once you finally found him.

“Have you heard anything from him?” you asked in your text message to Yoongi and then informed him, “I’m on my way to my dorm now to change into more comfortable shoes but I’ll check some of the buildings where he has classes after that.”

Just as you passed the library – and peeked inside because, although slim, there was the possibility that Jungkook may have been hiding out here (he wasn’t) – your phone buzzed with Yoongi’s reply.

“The guys and I will check them,” he was saying, “are there any other places on campus that have some significance to you and him?”

You did a double-take when you finished reading the text, not liking the wave of awkward and misplaced guilt that returned when you fully grasped what Yoongi was implying – he may not have been accusing you of anything, but he was, clearly, convinced that you were the reason why Jungkook missed the encore of his show and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth.

“I’m not sure,” you started to type back as you walked past the double-doors of your dormitory, startling your seemingly drunk RA who had been dozing off on the couch in the first-floor lounge. You stopped typing to press the elevator button, but then resumed, “I’ll walk around. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“He could have,” came Yoongi’s arbitrary – but, frankly, objective – response and you sighed as you read his words, your reflection looking very gloomy in the mirror of the elevator. “But let’s hope he didn’t. If you find him first, kick him where it hurts most. And then punch him for me, too.”

You couldn’t help snickering at the absurdity of the situation that you were in – you definitely never thought you’d end up bonding with Jungkook’s bandmates over your mutual frustration with him – as you typed back your response.

“If his phone isn’t back on within the next ten minutes,” you were saying in your text, stopping for a second when the elevator ding! announced that you’d reached your floor, “I will be doing a lot more than just—”

You stopped typing as an audible gasp escaped your lips, prompted by the sight at the far end of the hallway, right by the door of your dorm. Your phone nearly left your hands, on its way to crash on the floor. You’d caught it—miraculously—your eyes still locked on the figure, sitting on the floor by your door.

“Jungkook,” you said, meaning it as a question but not being able to articulate it properly due to your shock. The dim lighting of the hallway made it difficult for you to make out if it the silhouette was actually him, or if it was someone who was incredibly similar to him.

“Oh,” the person replied and – clumsily – stood up, relying heavily on the wall to help him support his weight. It was Jungkook alright. But barely. “You’re here.”

“I’m—of course, I’m here. I live here,” you said, not sure how to react. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Various unintelligible sounds left your mouth after he said this – the first syllables of all the words you wanted to say in the moment; all of them rated-R – until you settled on watching him for a minute to get some time to form a coherent thought and to asses the damage.

It didn’t look like he’d been in a fight. It simply looked like he got very drunk and plopped down on the floor next to your dorm room.

“Waiting for—Jungkook, fuck—do you know that your band is literally out there, looking for you?” you demanded after inhaling sharply. “There’s a whole search party for you and you’re—you’re here.”

“I was waiting for you to come back,” Jungkook said. He was a lot more sober now than he was hours ago, but he still wasn’t sober enough to recognize his own guilt. Actually, he was probably never sober enough to feel guilty about anything, but alcohol had little to do with it. “I was going to drive over there to find you—”

“You’re drunk,” you snapped, interrupting him.

“Yeah, and that’s why I didn’t,” he said, pausing for more effect as he waited for you to express your admiration for his self-control but, after it didn’t come, he cleared his throat and, sounding disappointed, explained, “I knew you would give me shit if I drove a car drunk and I promised you that I wouldn’t. So I didn’t. I waited for you here instead.”

“You should have known that drunk-driving is unacceptable because that puts you and everyone around you in danger,” you countered, the moral superiority in your voice clouding the meaning of your words, “and not just because I would give you shit if you did it again.”

He rolled his eyes but chose not to expand on this argument because you didn’t look like you were in the right mood to understand his point of view about “conforming to societal norms”, even if it meant that he was putting himself – and those around him – in danger. Not to mention, he was still too tipsy to hold out a proper conversation.

“How long have you been here?” you asked after he didn’t reply.

You were well-aware that you were having this conversation in the hallway when you could have, theoretically, had it in your room. The door was right there. The key was in your handbag.

But entering – and inviting him inside – wasn’t something you were ready for just yet. The adrenaline from not knowing where Jungkook was and what had happened to him still hadn’t faded. Your breathing still hadn’t calmed down – funnily enough, it would not calm down for the rest of the night, but you didn’t know that yet.

“A while,” he replied just as you remembered you were supposed to let Yoongi know you’d located the missing boy. You got your phone out while Jungkook continued, “I bribed your RA with my six-pack of Heineken. Well, actually, it wasn’t really mine, I just took it from the bar, but—”

You stopped typing the text message to give him a hard look. “You stole six bottles of beer?”

Jungkook blinked, thrown off by the fever in your eyes. “No. I took them.”

“Without paying?” you asked. He nodded. “That’s stealing.”

“I do it all the time,” he waved his hand dismissively – and pushed himself off the wall in the process, only to lean back against it again a moment later, when he realized he was still not steady enough on his feet. He nodded his head at your phone, “ask Yoongi. The manager knows us there. We get drinks on the house.”

“I’m—how do you know I’m texting Yoongi?”

“You said there was a search party for me,” he said, taking you off-guard with his accurate conclusions. You wondered what sort of effect alcohol had on him, “Yoongi is the only one that cares enough to lead it.”

He didn’t mean to make it sound sad – in fact, his facial expression remained the same: somewhat cautious and a little irritated – but you still felt an unpleasant pang of misery in the pit of your stomach.

“He’s—well, I care, too,” you said with a nervous cough that was meant to rid you of all pity you felt towards him because pity didn’t justify what he did. “A lot of people care. You can’t just disappear like that in the middle of your show and—”

“It is Yoongi you’re texting, right?” Jungkook asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing. “Not someone else?”

He was probably trying to be nonchalant about it but, consciously or not, he ended up making his question unbearably obvious. The “someone else” may have been an abstract concept to outsiders – your peers, lurking by their doors and watching the argument play out through their peepholes – but you both knew whom Jungkook had in mind.

“Yes,” you said. “I was texting Yoongi. We’d agreed to let each other know if we found you.”

“Okay, good,” Jungkook said and proceeded to act like this was all a mere misunderstanding that wasn’t worth a lengthy discussion. “Can we go inside now? It’s weird to talk in the hall.”

“Are you going to tell me why you got drunk before your show?” you asked, your voice on the edge of yelling. “Or why you skipped out on the encore?”

Understanding that answering this was the one condition to enter your room, Jungkook sighed. 

He was hoping you’d come to your own conclusion about this and he could just roll with whatever you thought was the truth – that he was useless, untrustworthy, reckless, and any other thing that people regarded him as – because explaining himself meant talking about his feelings. And he was so good at pretending that he didn’t like to do that.

“Because you weren’t there,” Jungkook answered.

You couldn’t help but groan. You’d gotten so tired of his no-more-than-four-word responses to serious questions, you couldn’t hear any more of them. You hated having to ask specific questions to get him to talk when he knew very well what you wanted to know.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you questioned irritably. “I wasn’t at your previous shows and that didn’t seem to be a problem.”

“Before—”

“Not to mention,” you continued, choosing to let it all out now that he’d shown you he wasn’t going to be completely upfront with you, “you knew where I was. We’d talked about our plans for tonight extensively, and I wasn’t supposed to hear from you until the barbecue ended and you wrapped up your show.”

“Okay, fine,” Jungkook said, his voice rushed. He didn’t want to hear any more of your accusations because he knew he would lose the battle of wits – he would have lost it on an ordinary day, but today, everything he said seemed extremely wrong. “It’s because you were with him.”

“With Namjoon?” you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.

Not liking your defensive stance, Jungkook swallowed and said slowly, “yes.”

You looked away from him then – as if you were gazing into an unseen camera and waiting for someone to yell that you’d been punk’d – your eyes losing focus.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m not,” he replied, his jaw clenched. “My own father sent me the picture.”

“The picture?” you raised your eyebrows, almost laughing. “It was just a picture of the company employees! Namjoon happened to be standing next to me. You can’t seriously be acting like that because of something as minor and irrelevant as this. I thought we’d already talked about this.”

Completely forgetting every past conversation, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Minor and irrelevant,” he repeated, an undeniable snarl in his voice. “Is that what this is? At this point, you spend as much time with him as you do with me.”

“Why is that a problem?” you challenged. “We’d already agreed you wouldn’t do this! I am allowed to hang out with my friends. You have no reason – or no right, for that matter – to react like that. You know there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not—”

“And I spend even more time with Inna than I do with Namjoon,” you cut him off, “why was she never an issue?”

“Oh, so, Inna, Namjoon, and I are all the same to you?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see through the trap he must have set for you with this question. “Yes.”

“Oh, how brilliant,” Jungkook scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and turning his back to you as he spat, “your three closest friends.”

“I wouldn’t say—”

He turned around suddenly, his gaze full of blazing fire. “Do you kiss them the way you kissed me last week?”

His words seemed to punch you right in your lungs and all breath left them as you stood there, trying desperately to inhale and suddenly feeling a lot more drunk than he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol tonight.

“I didn’t think we were going to talk about that,” you said lamely, all conflict having left you along with your breath. It wasn’t really a response to his question but it was the best you could do when he was looking at you like that.

“We weren’t,” he said. “But only because I could see how much you didn’t want to. I could tell you were pushing me away—”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he interrupted you before you could properly interrupt him, and continued his tirade, “and I understand your reasons. I left you seven years ago and friends aren’t supposed to do that. They don’t abandon friends.”

Faced with this point-blank truth, you were forced to lower your eyes to the floor as you attempted to lie, “I-I didn’t—”

“I told you of my reasons back then,” Jungkook said, not needing your excuses. He knew what the truth was and he didn’t blame you for feeling insecure. “I wanted to keep you safe from myself. And maybe I have my reasons now, too.”

“What?” your stomach dropped. When you looked up at him again, he was already standing a few steps closer to you. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to walk away from you,” he said, spilling his next words in one single breath, “but I can’t handle just fake-dating you because the thought of someone else dating you for real, makes me want to tear the fucker up to pieces.”

You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure if you understood his speedy delivery correctly or if your heart was banging against your ribs for no reason.

“And maybe that’s why I should leave,” he spoke then, taking another step towards you and taking over your personal space not with just his words, but with his presence, too. “But we’re both adults now. I’m still learning how to properly be one, but I’d already missed one opportunity to be with you and I can’t miss another one. So, even though I should, I can’t fucking leave. I don’t want to.”

Speaking quietly, you asked, “then don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and you couldn’t find it in yourself to lift your eyes to his and settled on watching his lips instead, which was about ten times worse, “I am—I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be the same as the rest of your friends for you. And I really don’t fucking want to be the same as Namjoon.”

“Namjoon—he drove me here,” you found yourself saying as your mind short-circuited, “to look for you. He’s kind and understanding but neither of us are interested in one another. He… I think he always knew that my heart was elsewhere.”

This time, it was Jungkook who needed a full explanation, not an off-handed excuse. “Where?”

Right here, you would have said but you chose to show him instead as you leaned in closer, removing the remaining bits of distance between you by gently touching his lips with yours.

Jungkook reacted immediately, responding to you and refusing to let you pull away by placing one of his hands on your right elbow and another one on your waist. He wasted a split-second when he pulled back to inhale, but then he made up for it by kissing you again, his lips closing against yours in a tight lip-lock.

You pulled back, however, a smacking noise echoing around the hallway as you did, whispering to him, “are you still drunk?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jungkook replied breathlessly before pressing his lips to yours again.

Kissing him back and feeling how the quick, gentle pecks turned into deep, open-mouthed kisses as his tongue caressed your lower lip before making its way into your mouth, made your mind hazy and you were forced to hold onto him tighter.

He sighed into the kiss; the feeling of you clutching the flaps of his jacket was more than enough to make him lose his mind. 

And then you let go suddenly, pulling away yet again.

“Are you going to do it again?” you asked because you had to hear him say it. “Are you going to leave? Stop talking to me?”

To be honest, Jungkook would have promised you the world in that moment. Hell, he’d have promised you the whole universe when you looked at him like that – with eyes full of need and parted lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Never,” he told you.

You seemed to read his mind. “You better not be saying that so we could keep kissing.”

He could have laughed at this if he didn’t know how much this meant to you – how much this meant to you-and-him – but he did know, and that’s why he took your hand, pulling it away from the flap of his denim jacket, and placing it squarely on his chest.

“I promise,” he said in tandem with his heartbeat.

Your lips crashed against each other again and the collision could have had painful consequences if your hands wouldn’t have been there to soften it. You held onto one another, pulling each other closer despite already touching everywhere it was possible to touch.

You could still taste the alcohol on his tongue but you could also taste him – mint and strawberries – especially when he used one of his hands to tilt your face in the right angle that allowed his tongue to play with yours. And then, as if he’d just snapped his fingers, you completely forgot about your surroundings and focused on kissing him back.

His touch ignited your skin and, as soon as he lifted the corner of your shirt and barely grazed your bare hip with the tips of his fingers, you already knew he’d started a fire you couldn’t put out.

In a rare moment when your mind cleared – all because Jungkook needed to inhale before he kissed you again – you realized that you were still in the hallway where, technically, anyone could have seen you.

Except that didn’t scare you much.

What scared you was this very realization: you wouldn’t have cared who saw you here, as long as he was still so close.

“My keys,” you whispered. He understood what you were saying – and what you implied by that – but he’d have rather been struck by lightning than voluntarily pulled away from you.

And so, forgetting your sanity for a yet another moment, you cherished in the feeling of his lips on yours, letting him push you against the wall next to your door.

Only when his body was pressed so tightly against yours that you found yourself trapped in the most delightful way possible, did you realize that this wasn’t going to be enough and you needed to leave the hallway before it escalated.

“Jungkook—” you tried again, pulling away this this time. Naturally, he lowered his head to kiss the side of your face instead, going down to your jawline and planting kisses on your neck, all while you desperately tried to find the keys in your handbag, your hands – and your entire body – shaking. “I can’t—ah, please, let me—the door—”

Jungkook would have pulled away from you if you’d asked but you weren’t asking – you didn’t want him to. And he had a hard time focusing on what you were saying anyway, especially when the beginning of his name never left the tip of your tongue.

Finally, your fingers located your keychain and pulled it out from your handbag. But blindly unlocking the door proved to be even more difficult than finding the keys.

Had you been less lost in each other, you could have stopped kissing for one minute to enter your dorm room, but any thought of disconnecting your mouths and bodies seemed ridiculous and impractical. Why would you waste your time by not kissing each other?

You managed to push the key into the lock through sheer luck, and then, hoping to open the door, you took a step forwards, away from the wall and into Jungkook – who didn’t mind being the one who held you, not letting you get too far away from him.

The speed with which you entered your room once the door was opened, would have probably knocked you both off your feet. But God favored those who were in love, and, the thing that you ended up knocking down, was just the bowl for keys that you and Inna kept by the door. You couldn’t have cared less about it – you barely even heard it clatter against the floor.

Following the invisible pull towards your bed, you and Jungkook successfully maneuvered past the door frame separating the bedroom area from the hallway, and – only stumbling once, when he pulled back to take his jacket off – you finally reached the privacy of your room.

“If you want me to stop,” Jungkook mumbled against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he held your body against his; your bed was right behind you and you knew you’d have fallen on it with the smallest push from him, “you have to tell me now because—” he kissed you again with the same raw hunger as before, “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave otherwise.”

“No,” you breathed, matching the intensity of his kisses with your own, “don’t stop.”

And that was the permission he needed to nudge you forwards until he landed on top of you on your bed, leaning on his elbows on either side of you. It was so similar to the way you’d made out on Sunday night in his parents’ house, and yet, it was so different, too, because you were past the point of caring about any interruptions now.

If someone knocked on your door right then – if someone walked in – you wouldn’t have even flinched.

Lifting your shirt and exposing more of your skin for his impatient fingers to explore, Jungkook was forced to break the kiss again, so he could fully take the garment off. And then he had to pause again so he could take a quick breather because of how ethereal you looked like this: half-naked and daring him to keep going with your eyes.

“Jungkook,” your soft whisper brought him back to life and helped him realize that this time, he wasn’t dreaming. This time, he had you here with him.

And so, he took his own shirt off before leaning down to kiss you again – clumsily and sloppily – and the new feeling of his bare skin against yours was enough for you to arch your back off the bed, all so you could feel more of him.

“Fuck,” Jungkook cursed before bringing his hands up your sides and kissing down your neck. Encouraged by the sound of your whimpers when he gently brought his teeth over the spot below your collarbone, he sucked on the skin there with more force, leaving faint bruises.

Your hands slid down to his waist – reaching for the buckle of his belt – but they froze when you felt his tongue soothe over the new mark he’d made on your neck. It stung but you felt more pleasure than pain and, for a good minute, that pleasure was all you could focus on.

You felt his fingertips dance around the edge of your bra and heavy breaths left his lips when he brought his face back to yours, stopping just close enough to feel the pull of your lips, but far enough to still be able to look you in the eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, successfully undoing your bra in his first attempt – he wouldn’t have called himself an expert in that particular area; he was just determined to always get what he wanted and he wanted you.

You barely had enough time to hum in response before he lowered his face and reconnected your lips, sliding the straps of your bra down your shoulders in a motion so slow, you nearly threw him off the bed and did it yourself.

Instead, you chose to concentrate on finally undoing his belt, which wasn’t going well due to how badly your hands were shaking. But, once you finally succeeded and got through to the zipper of his jeans, it seemed like Jungkook was no longer so dead-set on taking this slow, either.

“Oh,” a sigh passed your lips when he threw your bra to a side and repositioned himself in-between your legs, his hips grinding into yours in a dangerously satisfying way that only left you wanting more. “Please, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he spoke and his normally melodious voice seemed deeper now.

He placed a kiss to your lips again and then pulled away to slide your jeans down your legs, tossing them aside before bringing his hands over the bare skin of your ankles, then up your calves, over your knees, and down your thighs again.

“Jungkook,” you tried again, “do something, please.”

“Hmm,” he wasn’t entirely aware of his surroundings as he cherished in the feeling of your skin right under his fingertips. He had to touch – to feel – all of you, so every bit of your body, every crevice and every wrinkle, remembered him.

Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally reached the waistband of your panties, and Jungkook was convinced he was going to die when he took them off of you – but he didn’t mind dying in the slightest, not if he got to see you like this first.

“I’m going to make you feel so,” he said, lifting your hips off the bed—just barely—so he could slide your panties down your legs, “so good.”

And he resolved to show you that he meant it, peppering the insides of your thighs with butterfly kisses that were the complete opposite of the tight grip he had on you. 

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he felt the way your body shuddered in anticipation as his kisses neared your core and he could feel his own pants tighten uncomfortably around his now rock-hard length.

Placing a soft, chaste kiss right above your clit, Jungkook heard your deep breath and that encouraged him to keep going, applying more force to his kisses as he went lower. Finally, just as your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets underneath you, he spread your lower lips with his tongue and lightly—so lightly, that you weren’t sure you didn’t just imagine this—licked his way up to your clit.

“Oh, shit,” you threw your head back and Jungkook – who’d already proved how much positive reinforcements meant to him – released a guttural breath that vibrated against your core.

The sensation added more to the blissful feeling of his tongue as he finally flattened it against your mound, licking and sucking with a loud and sloppy slurping sound.

You gasped when the previously teasing motions increased in speed and his tongue circled around your entrance, touching and tasting you in clockwise movements, never forgetting to pay special attention to the most sensitive spots on and around your clit.

“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook spoke breathlessly and you struggled to understand him not just because of how good he was making you feel with his mouth, but also because he did not pull away far enough and his words quavered against your core. “Talk to me.”

“I-I’m—that’s good,” you tried to say but your head was spinning, “so good, you—oh! Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”

Almost screaming out in surprise, you felt his fingers against your core, gentle and careful for the first second, but eager and energetic the next as Jungkook explored the wetness around your entrance. Bringing his tongue over your clit, he slid two of his fingers inside, ready to stop and wait for your reaction but that was not needed.

Arching your back off the bed, you sighed deeply and pleaded far louder than you’d intended, “p-please—”

Smirking to himself as you struggled to finish your sentences, he sped up his movements, not giving you a moment to collect your breath as he rubbed the insides of your walls with his fingers and sucked on your clit, the slow movements of his tongue contrasting with how quickly he was moving inside of you.

“Good girl,” he said, his hot breath against your core making your whole body tingle. He felt one of your hands touch his hair, grabbing onto it; softly at first, but gradually pulling harder when the circling motions of his fingers sped up. “Are you close, baby? Tell me.”

You were close – and the pet name only increased the burning pleasure inside of you – but, at that point, you were only capable of moaning weakly, “hmmm, yes. Don’t stop, please, d-don’t—”

Gasping again as Jungkook removed his mouth from you, readjusting himself on the bed so he could move his fingers in and out of you quicker, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to keep your sounds to a minimum.

“Nngh—so close,” you spoke and just then, you felt his thumb rub vicious circles on your clit. The motion was so delicious, you were forced to abandon your attempts to stay quiet, almost shouting when you felt your walls tighten, already so close to your edge.

He could feel you clench around his fingers – a feeling that did no good to the painful hardness in his pants – and applied more force to his movements, maintaining the same speed that allowed him to pay equal attention to your swollen clit and the soft walls inside of you.

“Come for me,” he said, his voice coarse. “I want to watch you come for me, baby, please.”

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groaned, barely able to catch your breath as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, circling and curling them in a way that was just right, until the knot in your stomach unraveled with a pop so strong, your whole body seemed to lift up from the bed as you whimpered, unable to make any other noise.

Watching you lose control of your body, Jungkook used his free hand to hold you down as he kept the pace up with his fingers while you rode out your high. Barely any sound left your mouth when you reached your peak but your heavy breaths and the rise and fall of your chest as you came still overflooded his senses.

Jungkook didn’t think it was healthy to need someone this much.

When you opened your eyes a moment later, still breathing heavily, he was hovering above you, leaning on one arm as he sucked on his fingers, exhaling shakily when you bit your lip.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to have you here like this,” he said, “how long I’ve wanted to hear you sound like this.”

Still overwhelmed and momentarily rendered speechless by the strength of your climax, you replied to him by sitting up so you could reach his lips with yours.

Kissing him – and hearing him growl into the kiss as soon as your hips pressed into his, adding pressure against his hard length – you could distinctly taste yourself on his tongue, but Jungkook wasn’t going to give you a lot of time to analyze all the different sensations you were feeling; he flipped you over until he was on his back, and you were straddling his hips.

Being on top of him gave you a lot more control of the situation, but it also made the shaking of your hands all the more obvious. You lifted yourself off him slightly to slide his jeans and boxers down, not bothering with teasing him – even though, that would have been the fair thing to do, considering how slowly he’d undressed you before.

He didn’t regret that one bit – that was plain obvious in the darkness of his lustful eyes that followed your every move – but he did wish you went a little faster because each brush of your hands right by his length made him think he was going to explode.

“There’s a condom,” he said, swallowing, “in the pocket of my jacket.”

You had to look around the room to find the jacket and, when you located it, it still took you a few minutes to get the glittering wrapper out. Biting your lip as you made your way back to Jungkook – sprawled almost helplessly on your bed – you couldn’t help yourself.

“Do you always carry condoms around in the pocket of your—”

“No,” he replied, obviously not very interested in discussing his condom-bearing habits when you were unwrapping the packaging with your teeth after your fingers weren’t enough.

“Ah, so today was a special occasion?” you asked, smiling teasingly because your heart wasn’t really in this conversation, either – you could analyze why he’d brought the condoms with him later.

Unrolling some of the latex in your hands, your fingers finally touched his length as you pinched the tip of the condom and rolled it down his shaft. Jungkook exhaled with a low grunt, not particularly enjoying himself in a position this vulnerable – he didn’t think the simple act of putting a condom on had ever aroused him this much before – but not being able to do anything about it because this was you.

And if you wanted to take your time with the condom – since you seemed to double-check to make sure if it was really properly on; he thought you were just teasing him, really – then, he was going to let you take your time.

For the first twenty seconds, anyway.

Just as you raised your eyes to meet his, Jungkook sat up and pulled you closer to him, only lying back down on the bed when he made sure his arms were wrapped around your body, which was pressed against his as tightly as he could manage without breaking any of your ribs with his arms.

“If I wait any longer,” he whispered, his mouth so close to yours, you could almost taste him as he spoke, “I’m really going to pass out.”

“Well,” you said, your heart beating wildly behind your ribcage and echoing against his chest, “then don’t wait.”

“Fuck,” was the last word that left his mouth before he connected your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss and sat up a bit to reach his length with his hand and position himself at your entrance. “Tell me if you want me to stop.

“Mmhmm—oh,” your hum of approval was quick to turn into a shaky gasp as his length slid inside of you, stretching you out far more than his fingers had before.

He watched your facial expression the whole time, entering you slowly, inch by inch, so he could stop if he noticed any pain. Mercifully, the only thing he noticed in your eyes was a silent plea to keep going – well, that, and the fact that you did most of the job for him by lowering yourself on him until he was fully inside of you – and Jungkook was sure of it: he was most certainly going to lose it.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned breathlessly, “you’re s-so tight—you feel so good—I—”

His grip on you had loosened, which allowed you to place one hand on his chest and push him into the bed, until his head landed back on the pillow. As soon as he bottomed out inside of you, he stopped and you closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing for a second, before you looked up at him again and lifted your hips.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook whispered, his hands clutching your hips so tightly, he was probably going to leave imprints there.

Lowering yourself on him again, you sighed deeply, unsure what brought you more pleasure – the sight of his starved gaze and swollen lips as he allowed you to set the pace, or the feeling of his length, caressing your inner walls and reaching places so deep inside of you, you could have used a warning.

“Y-you’re so—mm, good,” you mewled, your hips rising and falling on top of him as you tried to get used to the feeling but failed, your walls clenching around him each time you moved.

“Baby,” Jungkook said and it was almost a whine, “I need you to go faster. Can you do that for me?”

“Hmm,” you weren’t sure what he was saying.

Your senses were malfunctioning as you lost yourself in the feeling, so, instead of going faster, you lowered yourself until you could feel your walls hug his entire length. You stayed still for a moment, but hearing him sigh in desperation, you finally started to move again – grinding your hips against his quicker.

“O-oh,” the sudden change of pace took him off guard as Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tightly around him was pure bliss. “That’s good. Y-you’re doing so good.”

You continued to move on top of him, grinding your hips in large and smaller figure-eights, as Jungkook slid his hands up and down your sides, feeling your silky skin and gently kneading your breasts. He brought his fingertips over your sensitive nipples and, noticing how your breath got caught in your throat as soon as he did, he applied more pressure to his touch.

“Jungkook,” you said weakly and then completely lost your voice when he sat up – suddenly reaching even deeper inside of you, even though that probably shouldn’t have even been possible – and brought his tongue to your nipple, carefully toying with it at first, and then sucking harder later.

Your hips were still moving against his but you were losing your stamina, not at all helped by the fact that his smallest touch nearly tipped you over the edge.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sighed and, somewhere in his own name, he heard the request for him to take over.

Fully immersed in the feeling of having you on top of him, Jungkook had no plans to change the position. He pulled away from your breasts, licking his lips, and then, finding a more fitting position on the bed, he locked both of your arms behind you by wrapped a hand around your waist and lifting his hips off the mattress.

He roughly thrust into you once – and then once more because he couldn’t stop himself – and then paused to gauge your reaction. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were closed, but your parted lips and the excited movement of your hips as they met his when he moved, was a clear indication that you didn’t mind the faster pace.

“Look at me,” he instructed, not moving until you did. “Good girl.”

Finally, he slammed his hips into yours again, this time not pausing for a single second, even though both of you were completely breathless already. His length drilled into you, rubbing your walls until the fire in your stomach started to spread and you involuntarily closed your eyes again, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook—”

“What did I tell you, baby?” he asked, holding your hands behind your back with one of his arms, as he used his other hand to bring your face to his again. You opened your eyes. “That’s it. Are you close?”

“Hmm—I-I’m—” the next words didn’t come out when Jungkook straightened his posture and thrust into you with enough force to send you backwards until you were laying flat on your back again. “Fuck, I’m really close.”

His hips continued the relentless pace but he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep going, especially with the way you squeezed around him each time he re-entered your warmth. You could already feel your orgasm creeping in as you bit your lip and felt your vision go out of focus, the ceiling of your room spinning as the whole place seemed to shake from the force of his hips.

“Don’t look away,” Jungkook spoke, breathing heavily and setting himself up for failure because he nearly collapsed as soon as you returned your eyes to his – all dark and clouded with near-euphoric delight. “I want you to look at me when you come, yeah? Will you do that for me, baby—please?”

“Y-yes—” you managed, barely getting the word out before you felt Jungkook readjust his weight by leaning on one arm and lowering his other one to your core.

He brought his thumb over your clit and, matching the speed of his hips thrusting in and out of you, he began to rub circles on your already over-stimulated center.

“Jungkook!” you weren’t sure if you were screaming, your heartbeat was too loud in your ears as you felt yourself tip over the edge. “Oh, fuck, fuck—right there!”

“Y-yeah? Does that feel good, baby?,” he groaned, “I can’t hold out for much longer, so I’m going to need you to come for me. Hmm?”

“I’m—please, fuck—” your pleas turned into an incomprehensible mess when Jungkook applied more pressure to your clit, flicking it before rubbing it in circles again, and you were completely done for.

Throwing your head back against the mattress and lifting your hips to meet his, you reached your high and Jungkook – cursing and trying his hardest not to lose his balance – bit his lip because he knew he was going to follow right after you.

His hips had slowed, although only a little, as he continued the assault on your senses by thrusting his throbbing member into you and simultaneously rubbing your clit all through your orgasm. 

Your warm walls that hugged his length tightened around him when you came and, groaning loudly, he felt his own climax take over him. He stopped moving with one final thrust into you, loud grunts mixed with your name leaving his lips as he released himself into the condom.

Breathing heavily but still not getting enough oxygen, you both stayed still as you tried to recover.

“F-fuck,” Jungkook exhaled when he regained some control of his body. His eyes met yours and he did not hesitate before adding, “I love you. I’ve loved you for so fucking long.”

You allowed a heavy moment of silence to pass as you watched him. Then, you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought your lips to his. The kiss may have been less enthusiastic than the one in the hallway earlier tonight, but it still didn’t lack any heat.

“I love you,” you replied, the words as pointless as they were necessary, because your feelings for each other had been obvious from the very beginning, but neither of you confronted them. “I’ve loved you for much longer.”

“No,” he disagreed, kissing you again as he pulled out of you and rolled off to the edge of the bed so he could discard of the condom. Turning to look at you one more time before standing up, he said, very matter-of-fact, “I’ve loved you my whole life. Through every happy moment and every fuck-up, and every—”

With your lips stretching into a smile, you warned, “don’t try to one-up me with your pillowtalk.”

He already had his back turned to you as he walked towards the bin in the corner of your room, but you heard him laugh. When he turned around to return to you, there was a wide smile on his bright, red lips, still wet and swollen from kissing you.

“That’s not pillowtalk,” he countered, laying down next to you and draping an arm over your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck with a delighted hum, “that’s just me telling you what I was supposed to tell you on the day I talked to you at my party.”

“I’m glad you told me now,” you replied, lifting one of your hands to touch his disheveled hair and the few stray curls that were stuck to his sweaty forehead, “even if you did cause a scene today.”

The softness of your touch was almost the exact opposite of the hidden razor-sharp meaning behind your words. Jungkook – who’d closed his eyes so he could breathe you in – suddenly lifted himself up on his elbows and gave you an inquiring look.

“I did not cause a scene,” he said, not in a very defensive manner because he did not think he needed to defend himself, “I was peacefully waiting for you to come back home. You caused a scene when you saw me.”

“I—oh, wow,” you scoffed in surprise, “you really are an expert at blame-shifting.”

He would have protested – and he was going to – but laying here next to you, with not a single piece of clothing preventing him from feeling the softness of your skin, he just shrugged. There were far more important things to focus on, he decided as he traced indiscernible patterns on your navel.

“Don’t do that again, though, okay?” you asked him then.

Smiling – because he was proud of his title as the resident Little Shit – Jungkook replied, “which part, exactly?”

The feeling of his fingertips dancing on your stomach was distracting, but you persevered for the greater good.

“Don’t change all of your plans if I spend time with someone else,” you said, swallowing. “Don’t put yourself in danger.”

“I won’t.”

His promise was brief but he leaned down to kiss you to seal it, and the feeling of his lips against yours had more impact than just his words alone. Then, pulling away a moment too soon, Jungkook surprised you with a warning look in his eyes.

“But don’t ask me not to kiss you in public,” he said. “Don’t ask me not to hold your hand. Don’t—”

You blinked, not following him. “W-wait, why? I wasn’t going to ask.”

“No, but you already did. At the last party we went to?” he said and then tried to jog your memory by adding, in a vexed tone, “when you were talking to Brock, and I—”

The party – and the long, long conversation that followed – returned to your mind even before the mention of Brock. You were just trying to understand why Jungkook was thinking about all of that now.

“Well, that’s because you were being a possessive dipshit,” you told him as an explanation, not an excuse.

You weren’t apologizing for standing up for yourself when you felt like your dignity was threatened, and he didn’t need you to. What he needed, was for you to understand that:

“I still am a possessive dipshit,” he said with the most unapologetic grin you’d ever seen adorning his features.

“Oh, yeah?” you raised your eyebrows, the mock-surprise completing your sarcastic look, “would not have guessed.”

“Funny,” he leaned down to kiss you again before making it clear, “I can’t stop myself from wanting everyone to know—”

“But they do know,” you said, cutting him off but not sharply, “everyone knows, Jungkook. You’ve made your point.”

“No, people still have doubts about us,” he said, “they’re still not fully convinced that you’re—that we’re together,” he paused, flashing back to the night at the party and remembering the words you’d said to him then, “but they don’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about us. And I don’t want to imply that I own you or that you’re an object—or anything of the sort. I know you’re a person. You’re a great person. And you belong to yourself. You’re yours. B-but can you be a little bit mine, too?”

“I am,” you said and, even though you may not have always liked it, this was the truth. There was no way around it. So, pressing a soft kiss to his waiting lips, you admitted, “I’ve always been yours as much as I’ve been mine.”

keep reading | masterlist

[jadedxrealityw]

-Second And Third Chance- Tony Stark x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: favorite dilf- i’m sorry lmao

   Movie/Show: after endgame. but no one is dead because i’m still in denial.

   Summary: (Backstory included) Being the fiancee of Tony Stark was all you could dream of, but not everyone is perfect and Tony is certainly no saint. Even with Thanos being gone, Tony is still obsessing on how to keep you safe from other worldly beings, but due to his own ignorance ends up losing you all by himself. 

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: angst with fluff ending, cursing, Tony being Tony, F.R.I.D.A.Y and Wanda being your besties lmao, 

    ☼-☪-☼

   you wondered how you were ever came across such a man. Narcissistic, arrogant, just completely full of himself in every way possible. You had met the infamous Tony Stark at a shield ball/party so long ago. He was charming, you’ll admit, but you were fully aware of his playboy status. 

   you wore a long black off the shoulder dress that started skin tight at the top and flowy at the bottom, also sporting a slit down the side of the dress. Some said hi and gave you compliments on your outfit. You wanted to find Fury so you could talk to him as he was the only person you really knew. 

   walking along the floor a woman holding a platter of drinks offered you one and you gladly accepted it. You spotted Fury a few tables away, talking amongst Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers. Once you made it over, you slipped yourself into a empty seat. 

   Fury noticed you first and patted your shoulder “Didn’t think these parties were your scene Agent L/n” he spoke with his usual formality. You hummed into the glass of wine as you took a sip “They are not, but i needed a reason to drink” you admitted, earning a chuckle from Natasha. 

   you then took the time to look at both of them and smile “Natasha Steve. Still doing the whole saving the world thing?” you say. Steve cracks a smile and nods once “The world can’t seem to give us a break” he says. A chuckle bubbled in your throat “Not that you would take it though, right cap?”

   you four spent a good thirty minutes talking about the usual, until Maria Hill showed up then you got to talking about new missions that he Fury only trusted you all with. You were like Fury third in command. Someone Maria had recommended if something would have ever happened to her. 

   not to long Natasha and Steve had left the party earlier then expected, but they were always in the rush. You, Fury, and Maria were now standing next to the table. Maria’s phone rang and she slipped it from her bag and pressed the green button “Yes?...Give me ten minutes” 

   she hung it up and put it back in her bag. Fury looked at her with a questioning stare “I’m going to assume Romanoff or Rogers were on the end of that line. Would the rest of us be needed?” he asked. Maria shook her head “No. Just a minor problem. I’ll call if it escalates”

   Fury nods once and gestures with his head to the exit, dismissing her. They were so loyal to each other. Maria then sends you a polite smile before exiting the ballroom. You placed your cup on the table were you all resided minutes ago “Should we be concerned?” you ask. 

   he shakes his head “They’ll be fine. I like to come in at the end anyway, makes me alluring” he says, making you stifle a bit of laughter. “Right” you agreed not really wanting to dwell in that subject. Only seconds later is when an unfamiliar voice spoke “Nick”

   both you and Fury turn around and see the nice tailored suit belonging to the less nice man of Tony Stark. Fury cracks a small grin and holds his hand out “Stark, fashionably late” he points out. Tony grabs his hand and shakes it “Well if i wasn’t i’d be stuck looking like you losers.”

   did this grown man just call you both losers? Okay then. You folded your arms over your chest, not really paying much attention to there very testosterone filled conversation. Tony eyes removed themselves from Fury and looked at you “and who is this?” he asked. 

   you removed your eyes from the people walking past you and looked towards the billionaire “ This is Agent L/n. works alongside Agent Hill and myself” Fury explains. You give Tony a polite nod “It’s Y/n L/n” you say. Tony grins and went to say something more when Fury coughed. 

   “I’m going to use the bathroom. Tony don’t be weird” he spoke before leaving you both by your lonesome. Great. “May i offer you another drink?” he asked and you shook your head “I already had one and i have to be alert at all times. It’s in the job description. Very fine print”

   “Sounds like you need a vacation or a xanax” he makes a face, earning a small smile from you “Maybe, but i like my job too much” you reply. Tony steps to the side and gestures with his hand for you to walk. You didn’t see much wrong with that, just a friendly stroll. Why not. 

   you step in forward and Tony lifts his arm up a bit for you to link yours. ‘What a charmer’ you thought before slipping your arm through his. YOu both began to walk slowly through the ballroom “So what does your significant other think about how much you work?” he asked. 

   ‘very slick’ “I don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment. Tried dating on the job, but no one really understands how much working here changes you in a way” you explained, Tony nodding along with your answer. Being an Agent had its perks and downfalls. 

   “Why did you get into this line of work, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tony questions. It was strange seeing him be so genuine with his wording, the complete opposite of what Fury, Steve, Natasha, or Maria had to say about him. It was pleasant.  

   you gulp, a few choice memories deciding to flood your mind “I worked CIA with my sister for awhile. Our whole family was worked in some form of Government job. Then the 2012 attack happened and we were told to stand down. Me and my sister were stubborn so we didn’t”

   you inhale deeply and managed to keep your formal smile upon your face despite the urge to down another glass of wine and call it a night “No one knew about aliens back then, but we wanted to help people in any way we could. In hindsight it was very stupid of us”

   your mind began to wander to something else, the smile fading from your face and be replaced with a blank stare. For an expression so neutral it would be hard to tell that you were reliving a terrible memory. Crashing, a blood curdling scream, your pleas, and a then silence.

   Tony looked at you once you had stopped talking abruptly and used his free hand to pat your shoulder. You broke out of whatever horrific trance you were in “Sorry, zoned out- anyway my sister ended up passing, i was charged with treason funny enough, but Fury convinced them to drop the charges”

   Tony chose to ignore the brief daze you were in for your own sake and you two continued your stroll. The night ended with more talking and much needed laughter. He also offered you a ride home and you gladly took him up on that. It was really nice. 

   when you got to your house he asked you on a date to a very nice restaurant near your place. You accepted even though your brain was telling you not to. On the day of the date you ended up being called in and canceled. He said he understood and that you could reschedule anytime. 

   you never did go on that date 

    ☼-☪-☼

   just like most things it only happened once and you figured that was that. Spending a couple magical hours talking to Tony Stark would be any girls dream and just like dreams you awoke to reality. You had a job and had many other important things to do beside fantasize about a billionaire. 

   that was until Hydra took over Shield in 2014, you and Fury faked your deaths. Tony actually went to your funeral, wearing sunglasses and standing away from everybody. It was pretty sad, but you had a job to do. fury actually came back, but you stayed in hiding.

   then in 2015 when Ultron was a the main problem and you were itchy to bash some robots skulls in- wait they don’t have skulls. Whatever, Fury wouldn’t get involved. Then Sokovia became a giant plane and Fury caved. After a year of doing grunt work you could finally fight. 

   all the staff, including you loaded up a helicarrier. You made your way to the command center where Fury and Maria resided “Ah Agent Y/n. Glad that you could join us. Already suited up i see?” Fury points to your all black outfit and mask. 

   shrugging, you walked towards the front “I’ve been ‘dead’ for a year, cut me some slack for being excited” you say. Fury nods, agreeing with your statement before facing forward. “Set a course to Sokovia and making it fast” Maria announced.

   and with that, you were off

    ☼-☪-☼

  Maria hacked into the Avengers coms and connected Fury’s, your’s, and her own. “Where else am i gonna get a view like this?” a woman said through your earpiece. You instantly recognize it as Nat. You missed her so much, god you couldn’t wait to talk to her again. 

   “Glad you like the view Romanoff. It’s about to get better” Fury spoke, folding his arms behind his back, interlocking his hands. The helicarrier started to raise above Sokovia. Holy shit this is high. As you ascended you were able to see Nat and Steve standing together. Nat cut her hair, it looks pretty.

   rest of the staff began to enter the command room and set up “Nice right? Pulled her out of mothballs with a couple old friends. She’s dusty, but she’ll do” he spoke. “Fury you son of a bitch” Steve said right back. Did he just curse? That had to be Ultron. 

   “Woah, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury said with a fake surprised tone. His comment made you chuckle a bit since he had a foul mouth. Hypocrisy am i right? “Altitude is 18,000 and climbing” Maria spoke, typing away on her keyboard like desk. 

   another guy spoke up from behind you “Lifeboats secure to deploy, disengage in three...two...take them out ” he clicked one final button and sat back. You felt the helicarrier rumble beneath you, which meant the lifeboats were being sent to the ground.

   oh shit. You were supposed to be on one of those. “Shit!” you yell before running out the command room. You raced down the stairs and made your way to the deck. You watched as a lifeboat flew right below. This is such a bad idea. Your doing it anyway.

   taking a couple steps back, you mentally prepare yourself before running as fast as you could. As you touch the edge you jump and launch yourself off the helicarrier. The lifeboat came closer to you until your shoulder collided with it. You hissed and slowly pushed yourself up “Damn- that’s gonna sting”

   “Did you just jump off the helicarrier?” Fury says through the coms

   “Who did?” Steve spoke

   “Oh you know, backup-” Fury replies before Maria cut in “Sir we have multiple bogeys on our starboard flank” she spoke and indeed when you looked up you saw a bunch of Iron man suits flying above. Oh shit. “Show them what he got” he replied back. 

   you reach down and pull both guns out the holsters that were on both of your thighs “It feels good to be back” you said to yourself. You heard something fly above you that wasn’t a Bogey and saw War Machine- Rhodey blasting through a bunch of them. He’s pretty cool.

   just as you were about to bask in the moment a Bogey landed on the lifeboat and came charging at you. It swung and you ducked just in time, lifting your foot to kick it in the chest. As it stumbled back you raised your gun and shot it straight in the head.

   the literal lights behind its glass ‘eyes’ flickered until it shut off and it fell to the ground. “It better not be that easy to kill the actual Iron Man” you spoke. “And your not gonna find out” a voice spoke. You turn around and see Tony in his suit, with his arm raised, ready to attack you. 

   you raise your hands “Woah- What the hell Stark!” you shout. Oh shit- you had a mask. “I’m on your side” you add. Tony tilts his head “Really, prove it” he says. You slowly move your hand. as to not startle him and slowly pull the mas down from your face “Hey Tony”

   he visibly tensed up. His mask retracting back into his face. Still has handsome as ever. He reaches up with both arms and takes off his helmet, dropping it to the side. “So is faking your death a Shield initiation thing or you just really didn’t want to go out with me?” he asked. 

   you cracked a smile and dropped your arms to your sides “I told you work gets in the way” you said. He went to say something when four Bogeys landed on the lifeboat. Damn you couldn’t let any on until you landed. Tony groaned dramatically and shot one in the chest, causing it to fall off the ship.  

   “No. See regular work doesn’t involve faking your death. I went to your funeral you know?” he says. You drop off and push off the seat and onto the Bogey, wrapping your thighs around its head. You push the barrel of the gun against the top of its head and shot “I know. I was there!” you shout.

   “Oh that’s just great. You saw me all vulnerable and teary” he says with a scoff. what was happening right now. You drop to the ground and the Bogey grabs your leg, pulling you back. You shot it in the arm and it lets go “I actually didn’t know you cried. That’s kind of cute though”

   you shoot the Bogey in the head and stand up on your feet. Just as you are about to take a step, a metal arm wraps around your neck, pulling you back. Oh yeah there was four. You went to reach behind as Tony shot through it’s head. The grip around your neck was released and you pushed it’s corpse off.

   “Your welcome” Tony spoke, he still sounded snappy. “Your such a baby Tony. What can i do to make you stop moping?” you ask, putting one of your guns into the holster. You look behind you as the lifeboats pull up next to Sokovia “One date after all this. So i can show you what you missed of course”

   you crack a smile, pulling your hood off your head. You raise your hand and hold up one finger “One date. That’s it” you say and he nods along “That works for me” he replies before picking up his helmet. He puts it on his head “But you’ll come back for more” he says as his face is covered by metal once more.

    ☼-☪-☼

   present

   you ended up did going on that date with Tony and he was right, there would be multiple date and girts until he finally asked you to be in a relationship. It was any big grand gesture that you expected from him, it was simple and sweet. It took him three years for him to propose in 2018.

   but he was always one to wait. 

   the second battle with Thanos, but everyone seemed to be somewhat recovering, but Tony wasn’t himself anymore. You already knew he was a workaholic, but it had never been this bad. He’d stay up all night working on new tech. Security, suit adjustments, anything. 

   when it first started happening you chalked it up to his response to trauma. One night you suggested he’d go to therapist. Just one session and if he thought it would work then he could continue and vise versa. Tony ended up shooting down the idea with a couple harsh words. 

   it was strange to see him yell at you because he had never done before. It was like you were talking to an entirely different person. It scared you to be honest, but you loved him. A whole year after Thanos had gone by and he was just falling deeper and deeper into his work and less into you.

   “Friday, is Tony awake?” you spoke, pouring coffee into a black mug. You place it on the silver tray and grab the light beige cardigan off the counter, slipping it over your white sports bra. “Yes Miss. Would you like me to inform him your coming down to the lab?” Friday asked.

   “No that’s alright. I’d rather surprise him. Thank you Friday” you say and grab the tray off the counter, it had a mug of coffee and a plate of pancakes. You knew he wouldn’t have eaten already “Just doing my job Miss” she replies. You smile to yourself. You liked listening to her accent. 

       ☼-☪-☼

   you push open the door with the side of your hip since your hands were full “Tony!” you call out, looking around the lab one time. You stop as you see your lovers head pop up behind a machine you were unfamiliar of “Y/n? What’re you doing up? It’s late” he said, putting down a tablet.

   you roll your eyes and walk over to the big table in the middle, placing the tray down “It’s nine in the morning, love” you reply. Was he starting to lose track of time now? This place needed more windows clearly. Tony put on a confused face as he scratched the back of his neck “Really?”

   nodding, you lift up the mug of coffee from the tray and make your way over to Tony. You dodge a few tools laying on the ground and hand him the cup “Drink” you say. He takes it from you and brings it to his lips “Thanks” he says. While he drank you studied his face. He looked so exhausted.

   it broke your heart

   “You look terrible by the way” you comment, causing him to crack a small smile. “You said yes to this face, remember that” he retorts. Well he wasn’t wrong about that one. “That is true, seriously i want you out the lab today and into bed. Tomorrow is an important day”

   Tony goes silent for a moment and you can tell he was trying really hard to think “Tony” you said, your voice sounding like a mom who was getting ready to lecture there child for forgetting to do homework. “I know i know- important day. Can’t wait for that...day”

   you narrowed your eyes “Friday” you called out. “Yes Miss” she replies instantly. “Read me Tony’s schedule that he set for himself for the week” you ask. Tony steps forward, but you take a step back, moving away from him. “There is nothing on Mr. Stark’s schedule this week Miss” 

   wow

   moving away from Tony, you walk over to the table “It’s our anniversary tomorrow you ass” you snap at him. Tony sighs and runs his hand over his face “I’ve been busy-” “You’ve never forgot it before” your tone was unusually calm, which through Tony off. 

   “Thanos is dead Tony” 

   “I know-”

   “Then what are you doing?!” you shout, shocking yourself at the loudness of your own voice. “I’m trying to keep you safe!” he exclaims. Your fist clench. God you loved this man, but you wanted to punch him in the nose “You know i thought that you would get over this, but i can’t take much more”

   your words seem to scare Tony a bit, but you continued to speak “It’s been a year Tony. You don’t sleep next to me, we barely talk unless it’s me making sure you don’t fucking starve to death, we haven’t been intimate in god knows how long. I’m tired of being neglected”

   crying for a man was so pathetic, so you reached up and wiped any forming tears away with your thumb. Tony reached his arms out and wrapped them around you. You wanted to push him away, but he hasn't hugged you in so long, so you gave in. 

   he rubbed the back of your head as you let a few tears fall onto his shirt “I’ll stop okay- look i promise i’ll get some sleep and will have a whole day together okay?” he says. You were mad and you wanted to scream at him, but you also loved him and wanted to give him a second chance.

   “Okay, but i swear Tony. You screw this up and-” you were cut off by him placing his lips on yours. Damn Stark. You smiled lightly into the kiss and pull away a couple seconds later “and you’ll throw me out on my ass i know.” he says. 

   you ended up making Tony go to sleep in your shared room while you cleaned up his lab and such. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   the anniversary, night 

   you were waiting outside a restaurant since Tony wanted to show up in his car to ‘swoon’ you wearing a black jumpsuit, it was his favorite color on you You looked at your phone and noticed he was about ten minutes late, but that didn’t worry you much since he liked to be fashionably late. 

   he’d come. He wouldn’t risk his last chance.

   would he?

    ☼-☪-☼

   after two hours Happy ended up picking you up and taking you back to your home. He apologized for Tony a couple times, but you said it was fine. Once you got home you kicked off your heels at the door. You were kind of running on autopilot just in shock and realization at the same time.

   you knew what you had to do, but at the same time you didn’t want to, but it was over. You gave Tony a chance and he blew it. Nine years down the drain in a flash. You just couldn’t believe it. Walking down the hall, you wipe your face from the warm tears.  

   shutting the door to your shared bedroom, you go over to the closet “Miss you seem to be in distress is there anyway i can help?” Friday spoke. For an AI she was very self aware on feelings. “Is Tony awake Friday?” you ask, going over to your closet. “No Miss, he is asleep in the lab. May i call someone for you?”

   you open the closet and pull out a suitcase you had in there and bring it over to the bed “Call Wanda” you say as you unzip the suitcase, opening it up and throw it on the bed. “Of course Miss, contacting Wanda Maximoff” she replies. After a couple seconds you hear her voice. 

   “Y/n? It’s late, are you alright?” she asked. You had confided in Wanda about your relationship problems with Tony since you were both in a long term relationship. You had also told her about the anniversary thing and Tony’s last chance. she said if it didn’t work out yo could stay at her place.

   “Hey Wanda- uh. Yeah i know it’s late but-” you didn’t get to finish speaking when Wanda cut you off “Are you crying? Tony didn’t come did he? Know what? i’m on way. He better like a car through his window” she threatens, you could hear her moving around and the sound of keys. Well damn-

   you began to grab your clothes from your dresser and stuff them in your suitcase “He’s sleeping, just pull in the front. I’ll send you the gate code okay?” you say, beginning to take off the jumpsuit you were wearing. “Fine, but no promises if i see him in the street. I’ll see you soon Y/n, goodbye”

   Wanda hung up the phone “Friday-” “I sent Wanda the gate code. Before you leave would you like to leave a message for Mr. Stark?” Friday asked. You grab a dark green sweater and jeans from your dresser and throw them on quickly. You didn’t bother to pack the jumpsuit. 

   you wanted Tony to know why you had left so he could see the consequences of his actions and so that he wouldn’t tear the city apart thinking you were kidnapped. “I will, can you record a holographic message?” you ask. “Yes Miss, also Wanda will be arriving in 15 minutes”

   “Okay”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Tony awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring off into his ear “Shit. Friday shut that off!” he groans, lifting his head from the table “Yes Boss” she replies and the alarm shuts off. “Y/n has left a message for you to listen too. It is very important” she adds.

   “Play it” he says going to lay his head back down on the table “It is a holographic message, Boss” Friday says. Tony begrudgingly lifts his head and leans it on his arm “Play it” he repeats. A second later you appeared sitting on the chair at the table with a blue hue around you. 

   “Hey Tony” you spoke a half smile on your face. tony would have found comfort in it if he doesn’t your puffy eyes and saddened expression. His head lifted on his arm “Remember our anniversary, you know your last chance and all that? Yeah.” you began. Tony sighed mumbling curses under his breath.

    “I care about you, i have since you talked to me at the Shield dance, but i haven’t been your first priority in a while and i get it, but you promised when i left Shield that you would always make time for me. I know that Thanos shook you and you won’t admit it, but you need realize that something bad isn’t lurking around every corner”

   Tony watched as you reached up and rubbed your eyes, the scene tugging on his heartstrings “We need a break from each other Tony, just for a little while. I’m going to stay with some friends. Please try to help yourself, get out the lab, clean yourself up, all of that.”

   you pulled something off your ring finger and placed it on the table. Tony looked down and saw the silver ring with three aquamarine stones. He remembered proposing to you with it. You said the color reminded you of his reactor. Weirdly enough your hologram looked up at him and smiled. 

   “I’ll be waiting” you said and then flickered away “That’s the end of the message, Boss” Friday says. Tony slowly picked up the ring off the table. You had recorded the message in hear, talking to his sleeping body. He wished he had woken up. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   three months later

   staying with Wanda was fun, but after a month or so you decided to get your own place. As much as you loved your big house you shared with Tony you bought small cabin well away from the city. It was quiet, it was outdoors and you loved it. 

   when you and Tony got engaged you ended up retiring from Shield so you could be more at home and help Tony with his work, but now even though you didn’t need a job you also didn’t like the idea of sitting on your ass. In that night of packing you put your old suit in there while on autopilot. 

   It took awhile, but you called up Fury and he was more than happy to let you back in “What does Stark have to say about all this?” he asked and you just sighed quietly “What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him” you replied and he didn’t ask any more questions after that. 

   getting back into your old life was pretty easy. All you needed was to get back into your regular exercise regiment that you had been lacking on and you felt more confident than ever. You didn’t feel neglected or forgotten, the complete opposite, you felt badass. 

   one day when you were walking out the store after picking up some groceries you felt eyes on you as you walked along the sidewalk. After years of being an Agent you knew when you were being followed. What was strange was that it felt like someone was watching you from above.

   having a hunch at who it might be you quickly looked up and see a quick blur of red and blue swing away from your vision. Was this kid following you? but why? You duck into an alley way and walk slowly. You hear him drop behind you and follow your steps. 

   “Peter”

   “Hi” he replies in nervous tone. You turn around, placing your free hand on your hip “Why have you been following me all week Peter?” yopu ask. You haven’t talked to Peter in months. Did he need something? Peter lifts his arm and grabs the top of his mask, pulling it off of his head. 

   he was lucky you were in a remote part of the city “Mr. Stark told me you weren’t together at the moment” he starts, looking at his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright” he says and flashes a toothy grin. Aw- wait. “Did Tony ask you to check on me?”

   Peter shook his head “No. He’s been busy with setting up the new senteries and therapy- i mean i don’t know. I just missed you and i can tell Mr. Stark is trying to change, but i hate to see you both so sad. I couldn’t imagine not being with Mj” he says. This kid was too adorable. 

   not only that he went out of his way to see how you were doing. Wait- what did he say about Tony “What senteries?” you asked, stepping closer to him. Peter started to fidget a bit “Uh- i really have to get going-” “Peter” you said in a demanding tone. 

   he exhaled deeply, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this “Mr. Stark has a whole line of senteries to sell to the senator so he can finally retire from being Iron Man. Not fully retire just on a long term vacation- that’s what he called it.” he spoke. Holy shit- you hoped he had done this for himself

   and you as well- but mostly himself

   a smile creeped onto your face. The most stubborn man you had ever met changed. “When does he plan on doing this?” you say to Peter “A dinner party this weekend. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until it was done. He was going to do some grand gesture to show you he’s changed” 

   you shook your head and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder “Don’t be. For once i’m doing the grand gesture”

    ☼-☪-☼

   saturday 

   after figuring out and planning on when and where you were going to show up you decided to tap into Friday’s systems and watch most of his speech then find Tony when the time was right, preferably when he was alone. Being with Tony for so long you figured out a way to enter your shared home, undetected.

   once you were in the building you hid away in a spare room that was never used “Friday show me the room Tony’s in” you spoke, pulling out your phone “Yes Miss” she spoke and on your screen you saw Tony in the dining room. You lift your phone and flick it so its projected off the screen.

   your eyes latched to Tony as soon as it turned on. He looked so different and healthy. It was pleasing to see that he was doing much better. You were also glad he took your advice. A warmth invaded your chest, it’s like you fell in love with him all over again. 

   gosh how you wanted to run into his arms that very moment. 

   “So Stark, why retire now?” the senator asked, taking a sip of wine from the glass he held. Tony seemed to tense up the question, but no one noticed other then you and Tony himself “If you asked me three months ago i would have told you to go to hell and that i don’t need to retire”

   “and now?”

   “Well back then i had my fiancee and thought i was the king of the world. Then i lost her because of my workaholic nature- also i’m not retiring Iron, Man will still be here for whoever needs him, but i think it’s time i put my future wife first if i want to keep her” he shrugs his shoulders casually.

   most at the table were stunned into silence before the senator lifted his hand for tony to shake “I guess Tony Stark does have a heart” he spoke and Tony shook his hand. You felt something warm come down your face and reached to wipe the tears away.

   god- what a charmer. Always knew just what to say.

   “Well this was fun, but my finacee i’ve been talking about is actually here on the moment” he said. Wait what? You looked at the screen as Tony’s head turned towards the camera, sending you a wink. How the hell did he find out?! Tony grabbed a pen from his pocket and signed the paper.

   “Happy will show you all out” Tony waved them off before walking out the room “If you step out the room you’ll be able to meet Mr. Stark in the hallway” Friday spoke. Oh so she snitched. Betrayal at it’s finest “Thanks Friday” you spoke before stepping out the room. 

   as you turned your head you come face to face with your husband to be, except he seemed nervous? “You look great- well you always look great” Tony says, making you form a smile “I’m proud of you” you say back. Tony reaches up, using this thumb to wipe away a stray tear. 

   “That means a lot coming from you. I can’t believe i let you slip away” his voice got darker, a frown forming. “I’m right here” you open your arms out. tony takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But seriously Tony i will really leave you next time”

   he nods “I know i know. You can have the whole house if i do” he says, making you chuckle. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes, silently making up for lost time. “Oh my god Tony Stark if you don’t kiss me right now-” you didn’t even need to finish before his lips were on yours. 

   the kiss was desperate and starved for a deeper feeling. Who knew one person could miss another so much? After this, you speculated you’d be stuck to his side like glue for a couple weeks before he say something stupid to piss you off. 

   Tony’s hands traveled lower and lower until they gripped the back of your thighs, causing a familiar feeling to bloom within you. He pulls away from your mouth and his lips attach to your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Zero to one hundred real quick. 

   “Tony” you breathed out. You could feel the smirk against the skin of your neck. Horny bastard “Tony seriously” you say, a laugh bubbling in your throat. He pulls away and looks at you ‘I’m trying to seduce you. Why are you interrupting?” 

   you shake your head and hook your arms around his neck “I love you, you idiot”  you say, trying to catch your breath. A ego filling grin decorated his face as he pecked your lips “I love you too. Now let me get back to work” he says and goes back to kissing your neck and his hands worked off your belt.

   yeah- you were in love 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Click here to join my Taglist!    @sonbelleame @hel-viti @loudbluepancake @vmame

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: Eh this kinda sucks. requests are open and my taglist. Anyways, peace

[cherryfi]

Cat and Mouse (M)

Plot: Meeting Johnny had been an accident but the night you’d spent with him wasn’t. Now that he’s had a taste of you there was no way he was going to let you go.

A/N: @lovejohnnvsuh​ gave me this idea. It’s not very good but please be kind :D.

Warnings!: Unprotected sex, a little angst I guess, that bisexual agenda (if you squint). Mafia Au so mentions of violence.

Requests are open!!

This is my fav gif of him , my god!

Word count: 3463

The mission had been pretty simple you were just to take out one target and walk away like nothing had happened it should have ended well but, you hadn’t counted on Eunwoo being as smart as he was psychotic.

Neo zone was an upmarket bar owned by NCT, in the centre of the city. Anybody who was anybody hung out there and that was meant to be where you’d end your target’s short, crime-filled life.

It had been a summer night, the air still warmed by the setting sun but not as heavily as it had been during the day. The cool air carrying the promise of an eventful night.

The feeling of smooth satin rubbed against your body as you walked through the club confidently. The thrum of heavy noise music mixing perfectly with the swaying bodies on the dance floor, you fell into step with them perfectly aware of the eyes watching you; smirking when you caught your target’s eye.  Not noticing the other eyes that watched you dance with beautiful stranger on the dance floor. She smiled at you in invitation and if you hadn’t been on a mission maybe you would have let yourself be swept up by those full, pretty lips and even prettier eyes but you were working.

“I’m sorry honey but, I just came to dance.” You locked eyes with Eunwoo again, running your hands up your thighs and when he invited you over with a swipe of his hand, you were happy to oblige.

Sitting next to Eunwoo, you spent the night pretending that you were completely enthralled with his conversation, hanging off the edge of his every word. Laughing as convincingly as you could at his dry jokes while you rubbed his arm and eventually the more time that you spent with him, the more comfortable he got. His hand wandered to your thigh as you leaned into him.

“We should go somewhere more private, don’t you think.” You tried for sultry, hoping that you convinced him you were falling for him.

But really, he was falling into your trap. All you needed to do was just to convince him that it was a good time for the two of you to be alone, you’d take him somewhere away from the club and it would be a done deal.

You’d make it look like heart failure and no one would look into.

Given that you weren’t able to kill him in the club. Especially because Neo Zone was of course owned by NCT and everyone was subject to a search as soon as they entered, you had to pack something small. So a dermally absorbed poison disguised as a lipstick, would have to do.

All you need to do was rub it on the side of his neck and he would be dead within 5 minutes. He’d slip away peacefully not really knowing that he was dying and when they found him any autopsy would say that he had had a heart attack. Which of course would be a little suspicious given the fact that he was 23 years old and in prime health but because of his position within the organised crime community there was no way that anyone would really take any special look into his death because that would place them down a rabbit hole, exposing a lot of people along the way.

That was how the plan should have gone, but it didn’t.

As you leaned forward suggesting to him that maybe it was time for you to find somewhere private to go, you felt the cold and recognisable, fear inducing touch of the barrel of a gun against the back of your neck and in the same whispered tone that you’d spoken to him in…

“I know exactly who you are, and I know what you do. It’s over, Y/N.” On the outside you’d kept your cool but, inside the feeling of dread gripped you, sending adrenaline surging through your veins, while keeping you frozen. He laughed mirthlessly as he leaned back into the plush leather of the VIP couch.

Fate really was a cruel mistress; or maybe it was karma for all the people you’d killed.

You were one of the corporation’s top assassins and had been sent in on difficult operations.

Your best tactic was seduction.

You should have been able to complete your mission. But unbeknownst to you, you’d garnered a name for yourself in the mafia community and some of its top members had been waiting for you – you’d been compromised.

Just as you were being ushered to get up, you were surrounded by new men, some you recognised, others you didn’t but, you knew that they must have all belonged to NCT.

“We’ll be having none of that in my club Eunwoo, Neo zone is neutral territory, even for her, put the gun down before I have to make you. Miss Y/N, you and I need to talk.” Johnny stood at the helm, his height and dominant presence just begging anyone to oppose him.

He’d effectively saved your life but, you’d broken the rules and now it seemed that you were in trouble.

Neo Zone was neutral territory. Everyone knew that, including the Corp.

Regardless of what was happening, no blood could be spilled in an establishment owned by NCT.

They were the kings of the city and nobody wanted to invoke the wrath of their head ‘Lee Taeyong’, not even a group as powerful as the Corporation.

The Corp had largely stayed away from NCT as they hadn’t done anything to upset the heads at the top and NCT had stayed away too (providing the Corp an illusion of power that everyone knew they didn’t really have).

The rumours had been that Taeyong had dirt on everyone in the Corporation and with all the support of the top gangs in the city, could cause a mess if the corporation chose to ‘step out of line’.

But this wasn’t about the precarious relationship between the Corp and NCT, this was about Johnny Seo, the man who currently had you by the arm and was taking you to an awaiting car.

Seo Yongho or Johnny, as he was better known, was the second in command to Lee Taeyong and they matched perfectly. Where Taeyong tended to be introverted and cold, Johnny was open and warm making him the perfect host for a neutral and welcoming club like this.

“Get in, Y/N.” The whisper of his deep voice next to your ear, drove a chill down your spine. You hadn’t expected him to be so close and his imposing aura had become dominant and seductive.

You looked at your reflections in the car’s tinted window and it was clear from the way that he was looking at you what his intentions were.

You weren’t about to become some King pin’s maitresse  en titre.

“Look, thanks for back there but, I wasn’t about to do anything on NCT property. I know the rules and I know that the Corp isn’t immune. I’ve got work to do so; I’ll just be heading back.” But Johnny just chuckled as a man that you didn’t recognise opened the car’s back door, his copper skin seeming to shine even in the dimly lit night.

“Don’t you think you should thank me for saving your life? Get in the car Y/N.”

And thank him you did with the silent acknowledgement that this would be a one-time thing.

You were allowed to enjoy yourself from time to time, right?

You’d found yourself in his bed wrapped up in his soft cotton sheets where you’d thanked him again and again for his… kindness.

The way he’d held you, the way he’d said your name, hell, just the way he’d looked at you had bought on a feeling that you’d not felt for anyone and you knew you had to get away.

It was dangerous, how intoxicating he was and it was clear from the moment that you’d stepped into his car, that you’d never have enough of Johnny Seo and there was no way that he was going to let you. That was made even more clear at the end of the night when he’d whispered, “You’re mine.” Against your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

But by daylight you were gone.

Thus, entering you into the game of cat and mouse.

Your company had put you on leave, understanding that you had been compromised and could no longer be in the field undisguised (and eventuality that you’d all planned for) but, you hadn’t planned on being chased by a very powerful man.

NCT (and therefore Johnny) were so powerful and so well connected that the Corporation refused to get involved, the thinly kept truce between the 2 groups on the line.  They did even give you a safe house to hide in but had instead given you the funds to keep running.    

You’d been running for 6 months and it was beginning to get tiring. Constantly teetering on the edge of paranoia, always looking over your shoulder, you were mentally drained.

With Johnny always one step behind you, you’d been unable to stay in one place for more than 2 nights without catching sight of him and you were running out of places to hide.

You would soon be trapped.

In a rare moment of good fortune, you’d been able to send him in the wrong direction, buying yourself some time to recoup before you’d be on the run again and you’d used that time to book yourself into a beautiful hotel.

The Lotus was a 5- star top of the market hotel, prized for its extravagant rooms and exceptional customer service. They had some of the best spa facilities in the world.

So, you’d booked yourself suite 448, a room with a beautiful view of the city and a full spa day with all the trimmings.

Taking off your hotel robe, you hung it behind the changing screen and made your way to the massage table. The smell of Jasmine wafted in the air, calming you as you rolled your shoulders and lay down on your stomach, covering your lower half with a towel.

As instructed, you pressed a button on the massage table, letting your masseuse know that you were ready and soon enough you heard the light padding of someone entering the room.

They said nothing as they began to pour warm massage oil onto your back and it should have sent alarm bells ringing but, you were too tired to care; sighing in bliss as you felt strong, warm hands working the knots out of your muscles.

The strong grip, however soon became painful as the (obviously) male hands started to push down onto your shoulders and when you felt them wrap around your neck, you jerked up; ready to throw yourself at whoever this psycho was.

You froze when your eyes met Johnny’s stern gaze.

“Caught you.” You scurried up the table, looking between him and the door but, you knew you didn’t stand a chance.

And as if reading your mind, Johnny grabbed your ankles pulling you down the table and into him.

He stood between your naked thighs, his hands underneath them, keeping you trapped.

“I’ll make sure that you can’t run from me again. Let’s use up all that energy, yeah?” The softness of his voice did little to mask the dominance of his words and you shuddered.

There was no way that he’d ever let you go.

“Do you want me Y/N? I know you do but, I need to hear you say it. I need you to hear yourself tell me how much you want me.” You felt brush of his eyelashes as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Lifting you off the table, he placed you to stand in front of him.

He hungrily drank in the sight of you, your nakedness on full display and you drew in a shaky breath, the heady smell of jasmine becoming intoxicating as it mixed and danced with the smell of his cologne.  You desperately wanted to hide.

The tension in the air grew thick as he watched you expectantly.

“Let’s cut this game short. We both know what we want so just say it. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted; just say the word.” Even before you could muster up the courage to give into what you wanted, needed even, he’d already known that you would.

Johnny held your gaze, his eyes full of lust as he took off his clothes. His gaze becoming playful and smug when your eyes traced his movements.

“I want you.” And if it wasn’t clear enough, you grabbed his hands, stopping him as he made to undo his belt, instead undoing it for him.

Now on your knees, you were face to face (dick) with his member, gasping in surprise because of his lack of underwear. He only smirked down at you.

You gripped him gently, biting your lip as you began to stroke him; humming as he hissed in pleasure.

“How did you find me?” You kissed his tip, literally pumping him for answers, and took a tentative lick, making him buck his hips slightly.

“Does it matter?” You supposed it didn’t but, you wanted to know so that you’d make sure that he’d never find you again. You shrugged it off for the time being.

Johnny didn’t know it, but this would be the last time he saw you; you’d be in the wind again before he knew it.

“No.” You took him in whole, bobbing your head slowly, letting his deep groans egg you on.

You wanted to give into him, a man you barely knew, and that was dangerous. Assassins like you weren’t supposed to be taken with flights of fancy.

You let your thoughts go, fully enjoying the sensation of his hands your hair while you worked him to a frenzy. You moaned around him, increasing your speed when his grip got tighter, losing yourself in the burn of having your hair pulled.

You snapped back to reality when he pulled your head back and guided you to stand up and pulling you against his body, his lips stealing your breath away.

When he broke away from the kiss, his lips were swollen, his breathing heavy.

“As pretty as you look on your knees baby, that’s not how I want you.” He smiled sweetly and kissed your knuckles, helping you back onto the table.

“You’re so beautiful baby, I missed this view.” Johnny placed opened mouth kisses down your body and along your waist, your breath catching as he avoided the very place that you needed him.

He chuckled lightly at your exasperated huff as he kissed your inner thighs; gasping when he bit down, causing you to loosen your grip on the table, falling back onto the table.

“Y/N look at me.” You raised your head. Your vision hazy with need, you met the steely and determined gaze that you’d seen over 6 months before when you’d first met him.

“I’m going to devour you.” You wanted to curl up and hide from that gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. His grip on your thigh tightened as he opened your legs.

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you fell back again as he kissed your clit. His tongue worked you open, causing you to cry out and grip the sheets in your hands.

You were losing your mind, slipping closer and closer to the edge as he worked his tongue inside of you.

You cried out your hand flying to his hair and gripping him hard as he moaned against your clit, your thighs squeezing around his face.

Johnny’s left hand gripped your thigh as he sent to you to a fever pitch with the middle finger of his right hand; increasing in speed when you started announcing your orgasm.

He worked to your edge and then pushed you over it, your body going stiff and then lax as your orgasm washed over you, crying out with abandon.

He kept going even as you began to push his head away, the oversensitivity make you curl up.

“Johnny, stop. S’toomuch…” Your voice coming out garbled, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel shame at how loud been, especially when Johnny stood up – his big body looming over you.

“It’s too much? It can’t be. I’m not done with you yet.” When he had that look in your eye, who were you to tell him no? You gasped into his fervent kiss as he entered you, wrapping your legs around his hips when he’d fully entered you.

Johnny was not a small man and you were reminded of that with ever inch inside of you but, you loved it.

Especially when he started rocking his hips.

He set a brutal pace, slamming against you in ways that made you sure you would bruise. His head resting in the crook of your neck, you felt more than heard every groan as he pounded into you.

He sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, increasing in speed and causing you hiss, the pain quickly leaving you as he licked the sensitive spot, your head falling back.

You stiffened up, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he rubbed your clit, his fingers matching the pace of his thrusts, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart? Let me know how good I make you feel.” Forehead pressed against your own, he held your gaze, his dark eyes daring you to tell him that you didn’t feel good.

The only responses you good muster up were garbled version of his name mixed with curse words eyes squeezing shut as you came again. Your vision turned white as you cried out, letting go and falling back onto the massage table – thoroughly exhausted.

Johnny came inside of you soon after, chanting your name like a mantra.

The joint comedown from your high was sobering as the gravity of what had gone on hit you.

Johnny held you gently, kissing along your jaw and eventually kissing your lips deeply. He helped you off the table and to a couch in the room; bringing you to sit on his lap.

“Won’t you be with me Y/N?” You laid your head on his shoulder trying to catch your breath and struggling to find reasons why it would be a bad idea to fall in love with him.

“You’d be happy with me; we both know it.” You wanted to believe him; you really did. But people like you, assassins, didn’t have happy endings.

“Would I?” You needed to get out of here.

“Yeah, I’d make you so happy. I know we don’t know each other deeply but, don’t tell me you don’t feel something.” He was pleading with you but, this was your chance. You climbed of his lap, wobbly on your feet, feigning exasperation and putting space between you.

You grabbed your robe, slipping it over your shoulders and tying it around your body. “It’s not that easy and you know it. There’s no happy ending here when I know that you’re just going to use me for sex.” Was that hurt you saw flash through his eyes?

It didn’t matter.

You needed this over and down with and just like you’d expected, Johnny bolted up from his seat, wrapping his arms around your waist to stop you from running. You wrapped your arms neck, hugging him tightly before you slipped the syringe out of your sleeve and injecting hm in the neck.

Johnny gasped, pushing you away and falling back into the couch, a wounded look on his face.

“What did you hit me with?” His words already slurring, he put his hand to his neck.

“It’s a sedative, you’ll be out for an hour or so. This can’t work Johnny. You know that, you have to know that. I’m so sorry but, I need you to let this go.”

“Why?” Honestly though why? You could genuinely see yourself being happy with him, there was no real reason to stop you other than fear. You wished you could give him a legitimate answer but, there was none.

Johnny soon passed out, the cross look on his face smoothing as he lost consciousness and you called it in, asking for the clean-up crew to tie up the loose ends; making sure to tell them not to hurt him.

They’d placed him in your hotel room to sleep the sedative off, while you disappeared, just as you’d planned.

Johnny woke up in suite 448, alone.

[liberty-barnes]

Keep You Safe

Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Prompt: “I can’t decide if that’s cute or something characteristic of a psychopath”

Warnings: slightly creepy Peter, but like the endearing kind of creepy, also Petey being a dork,,,as always, protective Peter Parker, Endgame related angst but only for a sec, cuddlesssss, and fluff, lots of fluff, because I’m a hoe for fluff... and Tom Holland’s biceps but that’s a story for another day

Word Count: 2167 words

Estimated Reading Time: 9 minutes

A/N: School has officially closed which means that I’m now forced to stay home all day (which wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t locked at home with my dad and he’s getting on every single one of my nerves) and do the homework our teachers send us by email... I didn’t even know Microsoft Teams and OneNote existed until a week ago... so that’s something. I usually write stuff on paper during class cause let’s be honest, I only pay attention to what my teachers are saying when I’m forced to (don’t do this kids, listen to teachers, God I’m a such a bad example) so I’ve got about 5 stories written and I thought “Hey, since I’m too lazy to do my physics homework, why not post it all on tumblr?” So yeah, hi, this is my version of “quarantine is driving me crazy and I need an escape”. And before you ask, yes, I’ve succumbed to the toilet paper juggle thing already, it was not pretty.

Masterlist 

Peter Parker was not a creep, he was simply a worried boyfriend.

There is nothing wrong with following your girlfriend after school to make sure she gets home safe before going back to the Tower. Or asking Karen to alert him whenever you leave the house so he could follow you to make sure you were safe. Or gifting you one of those morse code bracelets that monitored your vitals and location because he knew you’d never take it off and that way he could constantly know where you were and how you were feeling.

Peter Parker was not a creep.

He watched from his vantage point on top of a building as you and MJ left the mall, Slurpees in hand and carrying at least five shopping bags each, most of them being from art stores and only a couple from clothing. The sight of your bright smile made his heart burst with affection and he listened intently, still able to hear your melodic laugh over the hustle and bustle of the busy street.

He followed you at a safe distance, losing sight of the two of you as you entered the subway. Karen kept him aware of your whereabouts though, and he saw you again when you exited the subway station, now alone.

You walked a couple more blocks and entered your apartment building, but Peter only truly relaxed once he saw you entering your bedroom, having a clear view through your window. 

He stayed for a few more minutes, admiring how beautiful you looked doing something as mundane as cutting tags off your newly bought clothes and throwing out the plastic wrapped around your new art supplies. 

He then made his way to the Tower, where the Avengers chose to live again, for practical purposes.

“Hey everyone!” He immediately greeted his teammates after walking into the kitchen, mask off and hair slightly messy.

“Hey Pete,” The twenty-year-old witch gave him a chilled bottle of water from the fridge, already knowing that the boy would be parched.

Peter kissed her cheek and did the same to Pepper, Carol, and Morgan who were all sitting at the table playing Uno, no doubt to make the young Stark happy.

“Where is everyone?” The young spiderling asked after downing his water bottle.

“Bucky and Sam are in the gym, Bruce is messing with something in the labs, and Sharon went grocery shopping with Rhodey.” Carol set down a blue five, not even looking up from her hand. For a superhero, she sure sucked at card games.

“Oh, okay. I’m going to my room, be back to help with dinner!” He called back before walking to the elevator and pressing the button to his and May’s floor. 

After everyone returned from the Blip, the Parkers lost their home and Pepper immediately offered them a floor at the Tower, not wanting her not-really-but-still-kind-of-feels-like-it son and his aunt to be living on the streets. Peter was very happy to be living with some of his favorite people in the world and very grateful for the opportunities it provided him.

He entered his room and pressed the button on his chest, the suit retracting to a simple spider pendant that hung around his neck, looking like an ordinary chain. He took it off and put it in his charging cradle before changing into a pair of grey sweatpants (your favorite though he still doesn’t understand why) and his blue Midtown sweatshirt.

He sat on his desk chair, ready to start his homework but a vibration from his phone made him postpone the task, choosing instead to open the messaging app on his custom made StarkPhone.

Princess 👑 ❤️:  heyy :) Princess 👑 ❤️:  can i meet you at the tower later? Princess 👑 ❤️:  i want cuddles :)))

He smiled at that and immediately texted you back.

Baby🕷️ ❤️: i’ll ask Rhodey and Shar to pick you up on their way home :) Baby🕷️ ❤️: love you <3 Princess 👑 ❤️: love you more <33

He texted Sharon and after receiving confirmation that you were in the car with them, he turned his phone face down on the desk to avoid any distractions and started on his English homework, hoping to be done with it when you got here so he could cuddle in peace with his beloved girlfriend.

Twenty minutes later, he was almost done with his homework, fully engrossed in the words on the page that he had to meticulously read, highlight and analyze. He barely noticed when you entered the room, his spidey sense no longer detecting you as a threat, but took a much-needed breath of relief when he felt your hands around his shoulder, rubbing softly.

No words were needed as you kept rubbing his shoulders while he finished his homework, relishing in the soft kisses you left on the crown of his head from time to time. He finished the last sentence on his analysis and set his pen down, sighing. He closed his eyes and put his head back so it rested on your shoulder and you kissed his forehead, hands around his neck, hugging his upper body from behind.

“Cuddles now?” You asked, voice soft and soothing reaching his over-worked brain.

“Yeah, baby, let’s go.”

You kissed him on the forehead once more and took off your shirt, staying in your white lace bra and pastel pink sweatpants before laying down on the king-sized bed. You made grabby hands at him and he took off his own shirt, laying down between your legs and resting his head on your breasts. Your right hand made its way to his soft brown curls while your left rested on his upper back, hugging him close to your chest. His arms tightened around your waist and a pleased sigh left his lips, his lashes fluttering and tickling your skin as the tension rolled off of him in waves with every gentle pass of your manicured nails through his scalp.

Peter loved this position. There was really nothing sexual about it, he just loved hearing your heartbeat and feeling your colder skin against his naturally overheated one. He loved protecting the city and all of its inhabitants but here, in your arms, in this bed, he wasn’t Spider-Man, the newest Avenger. He wasn’t the Starks’ unofficially adopted kid that would take over SI alongside Morgan and Harley. He wasn’t the kid who brightened up everyone’s day and felt solely responsible for their happiness and well-being.

He was just Pete. Your Pete. Your fragile, vulnerable boyfriend who just really needed a hug, and you were more than happy to provide.

“How was your day?” He asked, voice slightly muffled because of his mouth’s position, buried in the valley of your breasts.

“Pretty good. I went to the mall with MJ after class and we bought a bunch of new clothes and art supplies for our trip to DisneyWorld.”

“Why do you need new stuff just to go to DisneyWorld?”

“I need Disney themed stuff.”

“You already have Disney themed stuff.”

“But I need new ones so that every time I see them they’ll remind me of our trip to DisneyWorld.”

He chuckled at your over-the-top-ness and nuzzled his face deeper into your chest.

“‘M hungry.”

“Must be cause you didn’t eat.”

“Did too!” He snorted at that.

“A Slurpee doesn’t count as food, princess.”

A silence enveloped the room and he felt your heartbeat quicken.

“I never told you I had a Slurpee.”

Oh shit.

“Y-Yeah, you did, you said you went to the mall with MJ to do some shopping and had a Slurpee after.” He was panicking but focused on playing it off as best as he could.

Spoiler Alert: he’s a very bad liar and can’t hide anything from you.

“No, I didn’t so how do you know that?”

He stuttered and incoherent sentence your way, trying and failing TRYING VERY HARD to defend himself. 

“Have you been following me?”

Shitshitshit.

“N-No?” He hated that he couldn’t lie to you, one look at him and all his secrets would come out like some kind of verbal diarrhea.

You pushed him off your lap so the both of you were sitting up, looking at him with nothing short of hurt, confusion, and betrayal swirling in your beautiful sparkling eyes.

“Have you been taking advantage of EDITH and your powers to spy on me?”

He didn’t answer, simply hung his head, closed his eyes and waited for the blow-up that was bound to happen next... but it never came, only a broken whisper followed by a heart-breaking sob reached his ears.

“Do you not trust me?”

“What?” His head snapped up and he stared into your eyes, seeing the tears threatening to leak and cursing himself because he caused that, he caused his babygirl pain.

“W-Well if you're following me it must be because y-you don’t t-trust m-me.”

Your words were punctuated by a particularly loud sob and he quickly gathered you up in his arms, nuzzling his cheek on the top of your head soothingly and threading his fingers through your hair.

“Nonononononono, baby that’s not it, I promise.” He took your face between his hands and kissed your tear-stricken cheeks, resting his forehead on yours. “It’s just that... with everything that happened with Tony and Beck and my identity being revealed, then almost going to prison, thank God for Pepper, I just... I’m constantly worried that someone’ll come after you because of me, because of what you mean to me, and that I won’t be able to protect you and I just need to know you’re safe, always because you’re the most important person in my life and I don’t know what I’d without you, so I followed you and asked Karen to update me on your vitals every hour so I know you’re safe and alive, and real, and... I just need to know you’re safe.”

He took a deep breath after finishing his jumbled up explanation, finally shining light on the fears deeply installed within him for months.

“I can’t decide if that’s cute or something characteristic of a psychopath. Cause you wanna protect me but you do it by following me and invading my privacy.”

“Wha- psychopath?” You both burst into laughter, foreheads still resting against one another.

“Well, you’ve been following me around for a while. Do you have a camera in my bedroom?”

“No! Of course not! Just... in the lobby... and one facing your apartment door... and on your fire escape facing your window...”

His cheeks were flushed red and he was looking everywhere but at you, seemingly embarrassed by his predicament.

“You said you had Karen monitoring my vitals... how?”

“Oh, um... remember the bracelet I gave you for our six-month anniversary?”

You lifted your right wrist, cocking an eyebrow as if to say ‘this one’.

“Yeah, so um... I actually made that. It’s got nanosensors that monitor your heartbeat, blood pressure, sugar levels, emotional state and a bunch of other things along with a tracker that’s constantly activated. It’s all connected to Karen, so she can let me know whenever you’re in trouble...”

“Is that how you always know when I’m having a panic attack or when I’m on my period?” Your eyes softened up and an adoring smile graced your face when he nodded.

“You’re a dork.” You straddled him fully and properly, then kissed him on the lips softly.”But you’re my dork, and I love you. And I love that you want to keep me safe and that you’d be willing to sacrifice your dignity and do something quite illegal to make sure I stay safe.”

He smirked at you.

“You know, out of context that sounds a bit twisted.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at him.

“What can I say? From time to time, I sure do love me a bad boy.”

He smiled and kissed you on the lips, slow and passionate, filled with all his love and adoration and relief, pure and utter relief because you’re here, with him, and you know, and you don’t hate him, in fact, you love him even more.

He fell back on the bed, taking you with him as you resumed your previous position, only this time with you on top.

“So are we gonna mention that when Tony did the exact same thing to you you threw a fit and had Ned hack into the suit?”

“Shut up.”

That night, when Peter got back home after dropping you off, EDITH alerted him to movement on your fire escape. His heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s as he pulled up the live footage but it all turned into a breathless chuckle when he saw the surveillance video.

You had put your whiteboard in such a way that it would be seen by the camera and scribbled a ‘Goodnight baby <3′ on it.

Baby🕷️ ❤️: goodnight princess <3

And this is what I do during my English and french classes... English because I don’t need to (perks of being trilingual) and french because the teacher spends the lesson talking about stuff I already know so I really don’t care.

With that said, please stay in school and listen to your teachers... do as I say, not as I do.

Anyway, I hope you liked this little one-shot. Please don’t forget to like, comment and/or reblog if you feel like it!

Love you all, Libby <3

[jjkpls]

crayons ‘set’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, light angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.8k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

The principle of balance. 

It’s a curious concept. Like most of the things that turn people into different versions of themselves, just from an unconscious force brought to light by the sheer inner sense of competition that inhabits every single person. It’s quieter in some people. Feel non-existent sometimes. But it’s here, dormant, just waiting on the right trigger to awaken. 

You didn't think you would see it in Jimmy. The little boy lacks completely self-confidence and affirmation. But a voice and a stance, easily remarkable, end up fitting him.

It turns out that you witness it quite quickly after the Progress has started. And it manifests in the most adorable and comical of ways. 

It’s been a few weeks since you've met his dad. There wasn’t much to talk about with him yet. Every day, longer lingerings of the gaze, less tucking away in the far back of the rest of the group, more definite wordless participations during class -nodding and clapping along. The progress you've been wholly satisfied with but nothing so drastically different that you thought necessary to call his father in for. 

Nothing absolutely astonishing. Therefore you didn’t call and what a surprise this one Thursday afternoon turns out to be when he appears at your class’s doorway.

He’s wearing very casual clothes, a simple light linen shirt and some distended jeans to pair, sneakers and his hair -you've only seen neatly tucked to the side- is floating about his forehead, freshly washed and devoid of any wax. It’s a pleasant surprise, especially with the evident appearance of calm and quiet tranquillity he’s carrying. 

This man looks rather handsome when he’s on vacation, stressless and well-rested and seemingly content, you note.

“Mr Kim?”

He looks up from his son he is holding the hand of, eyes wide and bewildered as he stares a little. You chuckle, confused but amused. He’s the one paying you a surprise visit but he’s shocked when you do talk to him?

“Is it bad timing? I can come back another day...” From the look he’s giving you, or more accurately, barely sparing you, body already aiming for the corridor, you wonder if you should return the question. It'd be cruel though, to tease, therefore you choose to simply shake your head and insist on him walking in. And then it happens, the man can’t take a step inside, for some reason. He’s just paralysed, looking like a million contradicting thoughts are fighting inside his brain and he simply cannot make out the best option, if he would or not step in; and it’s Jimmy who takes the decision for him. Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance, he pushes against his father's leg, small hands pulling the bigger one towards him. It’s like watching a tiny mouse trying to drag along a giraffe. It has little to no physical effect until there’s an aggravated tiny whine of “appa”. He moves, at last, letting himself stood in front of me before Jimmy lets go of his hand. 

He gives you a look you're not sure you interpret well. Dark eyes all serious, attention loud, he seems to be intrusting his father to you. A gentle smile, hiding your teeth biting back a hilarious grin, sends him away towards the very back of the room. Taking a seat next to the bookshelf, it takes Jimmy a few minutes only after you've diverted your attention from him to grab an image book and start going through it patiently.

He's so comfortable. Almost too comfortable. He looks strange, like that. Strange because different from usual but still, oddly, it fits him well. It's like a projection, a little vision of a future little boy, easygoing, at peace with himself and his environment, that won't take too long to be born again.

And it's now the dad who's acting weird. He's standing on his two never-ending legs, the tip of his fingers toying nervously with the button of his vest, his mouth keeps teasing, opening slightly, as if about to spill a word, only to shut itself right up, a lightly aggravated sigh following soon after. It happens quite a couple of times until you get tired of waiting. Tired of the eyes avoiding you, the tension heavy for no particular reason that you could decipher, you ring him awake with an abrupt overexaggerated clearing of your throat.

"Mr Kim?" He's confounded again, caught off guard somehow. "Did you mean to discuss something with me?" It's hard to make an adult talk, you realise. Sometimes children can be difficult. Put aside Jimmy's case, sometimes children are like that. Making them want to share, especially when they are at that age where they can't express themselves and their ideas as well as they wish they could, frustration, laziness at times can get the better of them and having a fairly constructed conversation with them is like pulling teeth out of a very adamant, unwilling person. But you manage. Adults, on the other hand, have never been too much of your cup of tea. There's a reason why you chose to spend the better part of your weeks with children instead of adults. You're not that terrible at getting along with them, you do it pretty well, honestly. But the reason is probably the fact that you're not difficult. You're convenient as a person, always willing to help, always trying to be positive, you do not get in people's way and most of the times, it's enough to make it through.

You don't deal with adults the way you deal with children. With great pleasure and passion, you insert yourself into your pupils' existence, try to leave a mark and help them have the better, feel the better, be the better. Adults, you don't get too involved. They sound complicated, complexed, too many compromises, too many facets. You know because you are one too.

And Mr Kim, looking all nervous and troubled seem the very embodiment of this bias you have. He looks some sort of troubles. Probably nothing that terrible. He appears too childish for it to be that grave. But he's serious about it, about the anxiety, the struggle, the uneasiness he's feeling, you can tell, just from the way he hasn't been able to look at you in the eyes since he appeared in your class. Still, whatever it is, will cost some of your time, and with that, might clog up some very much needed space you require in this busy head of yours.

It's happened before. A new neighbour trying to get closer to you, maybe because they've just moved in the city, didn't know anyone, and you looked friendly enough and they needed someone to listen to the exhaustive list of all the things that made them leave their hometown -even though, you don't necessarily care for any of it. Or a colleague, trying to get you involved in their office dramas, simply because people need the attention, the feeling of importance and support.

Quite frankly, you've never been interested in any of them. Adults sound like too much work, especially given the fact that, as filled with flaws as they are, they are a pain, and often impossible, to fix. And they say things they don't mean. And they want things that they don't need. Their words and their acts hardly ever match. They're for the most part unrecoverable and unfixable, and you don't want any of it.

But Mr Kim and his dimples -invisible to the eye at the moment, but that you realise marked your brain so strongly you can picture them exactly where they should be winking- are piquing your interest. You're ninety-nine per cent sure it is not about Jimmy but you'd like to know. Never mind that curiosity killed the cat.

“Yes, uh-“ Clearing of the throat, scratching of the neck and more clearing of the throat. “about last time...”

You're lost. For a second, your body freezes to give your brain its full capacity to wreck through the whole place and retrieve a memory that seems to have been lost somehow, somewhere. You have no idea what time he is referring to. 

He seems so invested, so intensely experiencing his emotions you're left shocked and deeply embarrassed to not remember something that had that effect on him yet didn’t leave a single trace on you. 

He insists then, having to face your transparent confusion. The more you stand in pure oblivion, the more awkward he gets. Stuttering more, an accent, very deep, adding rough edges to his voice, colouring his words with new shades that you've never heard before.

“Mr Kim-“

“Namjoon.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“No, it’s me, I am, I’m-“ You will, later, feel terrible for it. It’s undeniable. But right now, facing this grown-ass man, usually so collected now decomposing in the most adorable red-cheeked boyish thing, you can only start laughing. It renders him speechless which in a way is almost an improvement and when you finally can restrain the giggles from bubbling straight from your belly, you start again,

“Maybe take a deep breath, take your time.” You bite your lip down to the blood, poorly concealing your grin when he actually does it. “What did you mean by ‘last time’?” You're mortified to ask, honestly, persuaded that you should know but at this point, it’s pretty mean but you don’t think you can embarrass yourself that much in front of him, not when he’s been such a mess himself. 

“When we met. When I came to talk about my son.” Calmly, diligently he answers. Like a good boy answering his teacher’s question, a shadow of worry covering his usually sharp gaze. 

“Oh, what about it?” Curiosity melts with confusion as you refrain yourself from pressing him further into elaborating faster, eager as you are to understand. You were sure he was not going to talk about him. 

“I’d been a bit much and I wanted to apologise personally to you.”

Been a bit much? 

“In what sense? I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s just- I poured myself and our luggage on you when you’re- I know you care about my son but I shouldn’t have, I don’t know, I shouldn’t have-“

You hate cutting people off. It’s a terrible habit you are constantly trying to teach your students to drop. But here he is, struggling to express an idea that irks you strongly. Is he able to put the words he needs? Does he even know them in his own mother tongue or do they even exist? Maybe what he's trying to express are pure emotions. Unease coming from a heart shameful for having shown itself vulnerable to a stranger. You'd know about this feeling. You've experienced it plenty of times, throughout all your life. Even if it wasn’t in the form of you stripping your heart off to someone, like he did, simply showing that you cared gave you the same sense of vulnerability, of terrifying exposure you've always had a hard time dealing with. 

You hate the idea that he regrets it, especially with you. At that time, you could tell he had words to pour out. You were glad, you were even enchanted to be the one helping out no matter how small you just assumed your impact to have been. And now, he's trying to say that he regrets it?

“You said you were thankful to have someone to talk to.”

“I did say that.” He mumbles, pressing the pad of his fingers against his closed eyes. 

“Then don’t regret it. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about this, seriously. I had parents do way more, actually embarrassing, things in my career. Don’t even worry about it.” He’s thinking it over. You can tell your words have little to no impact on his bruised ego. “I’m not sure how appropriate it is for me to say that but if you need it, whenever in the future, don’t hesitate. I’m not a psychologist, but I’m just- I’m willing to listen if it can help. I mean me or anyone else, really, you should in general just share. It’s important. You don’t want Jimmy to mimic such bad habits like so, holding in and all.” You may be talking too much. The man just looks so eager to hear those words and it spurs you on. “You really shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I can understand the feeling, where it comes from, but it’s pointless with me.”

“You’re really kind.” You give a smile, only. It’s not much but you're pretty sure it’s the genuineness tinting it that renders it enough. Again, he seems surprised. As bewildered as last time but undoubtedly convinced. “I’m glad he has you as his teacher.”

Your cheeks burn intensely. You don’t know how conscious he is of his words. If he realises that he perfected the art of flattery and of slipping people in his pocket. He really did. Especially when he’s leaning slightly towards you, gaze intense and on you now that the embarrassment has vanished for the most part and he can bear looking at you, seemingly hanging out for any other words you may have in stock.

There’s nothing left for you to say though. It takes you quite a few attempts to skim over your brain, trying to formulate a sentence, any word, but you come out completely empty. You can’t even stutter a thank you from how utterly flustered you're feeling. 

Therefore you choose the easy way out. Waltzing on your heels to give him your back, your hands reaching to the barely messy top of your desk to pretend they’re busy. You believe yourself to have been sleek enough but apparently not so -maybe it’s the fact that you're just picking up stuff to put them exactly where they belong, at the exact same place. 

“Was I inappropriate? I’m really sorry, Mrs ___. Sometimes I just talk too much and I don’t realise that maybe I shouldn’t.”

“Please stop apologising. It’s fine, you’re fine. You’re just- You saying nice things that you mean,” You stumble upon the last words as if maybe you're getting over your own head to just assume and claim so loud that he must mean the sweet things he said to you but that bashful yet adorable expression he's wearing, with the eyes a bit wide and the bottom lip munched, fill you with a regain of confidence, “can’t be an issue. It’s just unexpected and- I mean you’re fine you can say whatever you want. I mean I’m not asking for more compliments, I’m just saying-“

It’s terribly unnerving. You don’t know what impression you're giving off as a teacher. Lacking so much elocution, scrambling to form sentences and turning into a messy, overwhelmed emotional mess. 

“I don’t mind giving you more compliments, Mrs ___.” Here comes that curious principle of balance again. You're half-dying of mortification and he seems to be having fun, smiling kindly, with a hint of something else -amusement, maybe even smudginess. 

Is he flirting with me? There’s no way he’s flirting. I think I’m losing my mind. 

“It’s Miss, actually.” You swear to yourself, silently, that you're not flirting back -assuming he is, in fact, doing just that- and you just mean to be called by an accurate name. 

“Oh.” He almost gasps. Looking shocked and you don’t understand what’s going on anymore. Was he really not flirting? Why does he look so shaken as if you misinterpreted his intentions and now he’s misinterpreting yours and think you're getting over your head -because you're not, you were not flirting!

“I’m not flirting with you, I’m just clarifying!” 

You hate this whole conversation. You hate yourself, your life and anything and everything that may or may not have led you to this tragic instant.

You're positive you screamed a little. You get confirmation of just that from the tiny mop of hair bouncing up in your peripheral vision, as Jimmy gives you two a slightly concerned, curious look. 

The tension is blatant. It's a mixture of irritation, of anxiety, of embarrassment. You couldn't have messed up any worse than you did and you positively want to simply die, right about now.

The mere thought that you'll have to live with this humiliation not only for the whole day ahead, blatantly hanging out at the back of your head, sometimes probably too close to your consciousness for any sense of comfort to ever inhabit you again, but for your entire life makes you want to throw yourself out the window. You decide not to indulge in the pressing pulsion only because you're on the ground floor, therefore, it would be pointless if not even more humiliating.

Mr Kim, somehow, helps a little. By not wearing a mask of pure revolt, revulsion or aggravation. He stares soundly, expression not giving off much to work with. Just enough to understand he is not mad, simply lost in his own thoughts he doesn't seem too keen on sharing.

A spark of sensibility blooms suddenly in your brain. You're so thankful for it, you jump right on it, grab it with your two hands and start again, as if nothing happened, as if you haven't just humiliated yourself in front of this man (and his son), "Jimmy has made a lot of progress, I've noted."

Mr Kim blinks a few times, unnaturally so. "Yeah? I mean, yes, I've noticed too, actually." He keeps staring with the same obnoxiously loud thoughts running in his mind. His brain is on full activity mode. It's obvious. And he doesn't care too much about talking about his son right this second (even though he doesn't seem to care much about sharing what's going through that private head of his either).

How disappointing. You sincerely thought the one subject that matters the most to him would successfully tear the attention away from you but you're a fool. Apparently, even the cute little bean of a son he has can't divert the attention from the humiliation you've just submitted yourself to.

"Anyway, I won't hold any more of your time, you must have work to attend to."

"Actually I'm not working today. I have the day off." Your lip now too sensitive, you attack the inner part of your cheek with your teeth -thankfully you've turned your back to him again, feigning observing with great attention something through the windows- to stop yourself from screeching. It takes him so long, so fucking long for him to decide, finally, that maybe he should leave. The longest dozens of seconds of your life. Staring outside, picturing him behind you, probably watching you wondering to himself how you can be so lame and how he could have thought you a good fit to be his precious son's teacher. "Ah, I should leave anyway. Your class is about to start?"

"Ah, yes. Well, thanks for passing by. I hope you rest well." It's the least genuine you've been with this man, and anyone for the matter, in so long. Your heart and mind are in such a shamble you don't actually remember the reason for his coming and if, really, anything positive came out of this conversation.

It's ridiculous how you feel, all bothered and nervous, aggravated with him for making you feel so flustered. You give him the most convincing fake smile you own, not taking the time to check if he buys it as you don't dare lingering your attention on him for any longer than the blink of the eye takes.

When he leaves, only after having scattered a bunch of smooches on Jimmy's face, you find yourself breathing again. It's like you've been holding in for so long, you're getting dizzy at the taste of oxygen again, heart beating furiously in your chest, sweating all over.

Fuck, that was painful.

You're such an idiot sometimes. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot? It's not like you're asking much in this life, honestly. You're not aiming at any groundbreaking, universe shaking novelties. You're staying in your line, trying to be good and do good in your own little world. Not asking much, not taking without beforehand being offered. Is it really that much to ask to not be absolutely humiliated in front of one of your kids' parent, who happens to be a stupidly handsome man? (Yes, he is. You can admit that -to yourself. It's probably the reason why your brain stopped working properly, by the way.) You're cursed. I'm cursed, I'm cursed, I'm cur-

"Mish?" The quietest little call comes from the quietest little boy. Standing a secure meter away from you, his peculiar big black eyes staring with a silent demand in them, Jimmy waits patiently for your attention to be given to him. You offer it to him with great enthusiasm. Because between self-pitying your dumb ass and celebrating the first-ever-self-willingly-uttered word to you by this boy, the choice is not even to be pondered over.

"Yes, Jimmy?" He's holding in one hand your crayons he slowly tends your way, careful not to spill them all from his tiny fist. In the other one, there's a paper he's drawn on. Your eyes instinctively are driven to it, curious to see what he decided to draw when he felt comfortable enough to do it. He catches the line of your attention, evidently, and it takes him a second but then, finally, he decides you're allowed to see it. It's a too accurate copy of the ugly cat you made for him the other day. The colours are different, the traits a bit shakier yet, completely unbiasedly, you have to admit that he somehow made it look better. "That's a very pretty cat, Jimmy."

He looks at it, ruminates your words, trying to make sense of them, verify their accuracy. Suddenly he seems to decide that you're right and giving you another candid look, he returns to his table where he proceeds to carefully slip the drawing in his bag.

You realise your eyes are filled up with prickling tears while you sniff. You're not sure how much is due to this, how much the terrible, terrible encounter with his dad worked your emotions so intensely you're so sensitive now. In any case, it turns out for the better. It's this cute little cat that ends up making you and your day ahead feel better. You're so thankful for it.

Again, you know you're too involved but how are you supposed to do any different with them? Maybe it wasn't a punishment earlier. Maybe it was the storm before the ray of sunshine. It's probably the case. You're less aggravated, suddenly. Less vexed and probably more lenient on talking to this man again given, not the ray of sunshine, but actually rainbow that he may have helped cause to colour your day.

A/N: thanks for reading 💜

[flightrules]

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 5: Tag

Trust is a straightforward concept, until suddenly it isn't.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4   Read on AO3

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff in later chapters. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet. (Note: I had trouble tagging for this chapter. The violent thing between our two protagonists is in this one. It is brief, it is essentially an accident, there is an apology, and they make their own choices on what to do about it. Your author is not intending to condone abuse in any way, shape or form.)

From your vantage point, there are only so many places you can go in the Razor Crest’s hold. But the child can duck behind wall struts and hide in cupboards. Storage containers that come up to your knees are boulders to climb. 

Right now the little one’s careening down the center of the hold, heading for a stack of crates near the far end, a tousled-looking man in very slow pursuit. You make a run around them both to cut off the child’s hiding place. The child lets out a happy squeal as he turns and runs back at the man, who promptly backs away, careful to go slowly enough that the little one can almost catch at his boots. 

They get nearly all the way to the refresher compartment when the man reaches down to scoop him up. “Got you!” The child’s cooing as he gets a ride through the air, the man spinning him around before setting him back on his feet. And then he’s off again, running for the carbon freeze nook this time and peeping out between wires and hoses.

The last time you got to play tag was with your brother’s children, chasing two toddlers in the fields at the ends of summer days. They were small enough to be picked up, too, to be flown above your head, your nephew safe with your hands around his middle, high-pitched giggles filling the air and multi-winged firebugs lighting up the twilight. 

You tiptoe over to where the child’s hiding in plain sight. You reach for him slowly, taking your time so he can duck back out again and toddle away. Now it’s your turn to chase after, measuring your steps as tiny legs run as fast as they’ll go. The man crouches down a meter or so ahead, right in the little one’s path, and those tiny feet skid to a stop as the child decides which way to turn. 

What you do next feels like the most natural thing in the world. “Hey,” you whisper to the child. “Let’s get him!”

The next thing you know you’re on your knees with one arm twisted so far up behind your back you can feel the ligaments in your shoulder about to give way. 

Your vision starts to fade at the edges as pain takes over. 

Just as fast as it happened, he lets go of your wrist. 

Your other hand goes to your shoulder as you sink down onto your heels. For a minute or so you’re focusing on breathing, waiting for the pain to subside. When it finally lifts enough that you can open your eyes, he’s crouched in front of you, the child at his feet. 

“Are you ok?”

You’re feeling around the joint with your fingers, looking for any hot spots that would suggest something torn.

You lift your arm gingerly, rotating it through a careful circle. The child’s face turns back and forth between the two of you, the top of his fuzzy head just barely at the level of the man’s boot-top. The big ears are drooping, and the worry wrinkles are back in the little green forehead. “Are you going to take my head off if I pick up your kid?”

He stands, lifting the child into his own arms. “Let’s not find out.”

You can’t read his expression at all right now. He could be thinking of throwing you out the airlock. He could be thinking about what to eat for supper. 

You try bending and extending your elbow. It’s tender, but it still works. 

He goes to the cupboard where the medkit is. 

Less than an hour ago you were curled up in this man’s arms. “What the hell?” you ask him. 

“Reflex,” he says, as he hands you a cold-pack. “It usually serves me well.”

You break the seal and wait for it to chill down. “It didn’t serve me well.”

“It would if someone were trying to hurt us.”

Your hand starts to go numb from the cold as you try to parse what he just said. Does “us” include you now? 

He holds out his hand. 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s asking you to hand back the cold-pack, probably since you don’t seem to be using it. He takes it from your stiffening fingers and kneels beside you, pressing it onto your shoulder. His other arm is still cradling the child, who’s still got a few worry-wrinkles but at least his ears have perked up again. 

“What happened to trusting each other?" 

He moves the cold pack from the front of your shoulder to the top. The chill feels good against the lingering ache there. 

“I let you go,” he says. 

Your brain is stuck between how close he is, how carefully he's holding the cold-pack, how steadily he's holding the child… And the fact that you knew he was dangerous… And the idea that you've probably been stupid to think he wouldn’t be dangerous to you.

Well. It's worth a try. "You going to apologize?"

"I'm going to move this to the back of your shoulder," he says, and when you don't object he leans a little closer, shifting the cold pack so it's resting over the back of your deltoid muscle where it connects to the scapula. The child starts to wriggle, and he sets him down while still keeping the cold pack firmly in place. “It’s all right,” he tells the child. “You can go play.”

Chem-packs don’t last all that long. The chill fades as the chemical reaction winds down. He gives the thing a shake, forms it back over your shoulder for another minute, and then gets up to deposit it in the wastebin behind its cupboard door. 

You stand up too, tugging your shirt straight. Your shoulder feels better but your back and neck are aching from how suddenly he put you on the floor. There are probably matching bruises forming over your kneecaps. 

He latches the cupboard closed. 

The child is sitting quietly nearby, chewing on a silvery pendant that’s on a cord around his neck. You saw it when he had his bath, what feels like a thousand parsecs before this moment. It must be tucked into his robe, most of the time. 

The table is still set up, the two chairs still pulled up beside it. The man turns one of them around and sits down facing you, hands resting on his knees. His voice is quiet. "If you were Mandalorian," he says, "you'd be apologizing to me."

You aren’t quiet at all. "If you were from my village,” you shoot back at him, “you’d fucking know how to play tag.”

“I know,” he says, still soft. “I’m sorry.”

*

You’re sitting in the pilot’s chair, because why the hell not. He didn’t try to stop you coming up here. 

You can hear him downstairs, tools clanking around as he works on the wiring. There was a buzz in the lights, he said, and he ought to take a look. You hadn’t noticed anything, but then you don’t know this ship. 

You don’t know him.

You could change the ship’s course. You could drop it out of hyperdrive and signal anyone you wanted. You could close the sliding doors, short out the control panel, and put the thing on any path you chose. 

You can’t think of anywhere in particular you want to go. 

The main control panel is old, the switches and buttons bulky and square. Many of the labels are faded or gone. Some of the buttons have a depression worn away where his fingers would land. 

It’s also spotless. There’s no grime worn into the crevices. No crumbs from the child’s snacks. You run a finger along the panel above your head. No dust.

It seems he’s precise about this, too. 

If you were Mandalorian, you’d be apologizing to me.

But also, I’m sorry.

He knows he crossed a line with you. You didn’t even know where his line was. 

The fuel gauge is still well above half. You could reset the hyperdrive, kick up the speed, get to Pavotha that much faster and get off this ship.

Once, you would have turned to your grandmother when you weren’t sure what to do. Your father would have walked the fields with you, checking the depth that you planted the seeds. The first time you and your brother built new irrigation troughs, your grandfather scolded you for taking too much water from the stream. 

How do you know what choices are right, if you don’t have rules to follow?

The blues and purples of hyperspace are nothing like the colors of the sky at home. You close your eyes and try to remember your mother’s voice, her hands in the dirt beside you, the way she would give a short, sharp shake to each groundfruit so the soil would fall away. “What do you want to do?” she would have asked.

*

You take the ladder slowly, stopping on the last rung to make sure he sees you before you step onto the durasteel floor in the hold. He’s still got the toolbox open, but he’s not working on the ship. 

He’s sitting beside the stack of armor, one piece in his lap, a bright-tipped tool in his hand. The underside of the piece he’s working on is a maze of exposed circuits. The tool gives off a low electrical buzz where it touches. 

You walk over, not too close, and sit, leaving a meter or so between you. 

It’s automatic, already, to look around for the child. The little one is seated at the man’s other side, a collection of small tools arrayed around him. Right now he’s banging one of them against the floor and seems pleased by the sound. 

The man continues working in silence. He turns the piece over in his hands and you can see that it’s a pauldron, the one with the mudhorn decorating the side. He lays down the tool and picks up a soft-looking rag, drawing it over the surface and rubbing carefully around the raised design. The cloth releases a faint smell of pepper as it moves. 

The child is now arranging tools in a pattern, lining them up in rows.

The two thigh guards are already set off to the side, lined up neatly in parallel atop a clean grey blanket. He puts the pauldron down beside them and picks up the other one from the pile, trading the rag for the electrical tool again. Before he gets to work on it, he turns his head your way. “Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“You’re here,” he says. “Is your shoulder still hurting?”

It isn’t, much, but the rest of your muscles feel like they took a beating. “Is yours?”

He looks confused, then seems to remember. “It’ll be fine.”

“Was that really normal for you? You just, fight each other like that?”

“We train for those reflexes,” he says. “They keep us alive.”

“So if I were Mandalorian, I’d know better than to surprise you.”

“Yes,” he says. “But you aren’t Mandalorian.”

Two days ago, you held each piece of his armor in your hands, but you didn’t get a good look at any of it. “May I?”

The moment stretches out for a while, but eventually he answers. “Go ahead."

You choose one of the thigh guards, the simpler one with the surface that’s mirror-smooth. Your  fingertips slide over the metal without leaving a smudge. Either beskar won’t hold a fingerprint, or whatever he’s using to polish it has that same effect. You fit it against your own leg. It’s a little long for you, looking awkward against your body.

In your village, you used to play a hiding game. One person would be the seeker, and the point was to hide so well that when they came near you could jump out and tag them. You got extra points if they screamed. 

“We had a game like that, too. People usually needed to be patched up afterwards.”

"Did anyone scream?"

"Sometimes." There's the tiniest bit of a smile. "Less as we got older."

You lay the guard back down on the blanket, lining it up again between the pauldron and the other thigh plate.

“I liked,” you tell him, "being held by you.”

He takes a slow breath, ending in a sigh as he touches the glowing tool to circuitry and it makes that low buzz. “I did, too.”

“That can’t happen again.”

He looks up at the ship’s chrono, its numbers glowing red from the little panel near the ceiling. “We’ll be at Pavotha the morning after tomorrow. I can be upstairs most of the time.” He glances at the child, who’s now stacking tools atop each other until they overbalance and fall. ”We won’t bother you.” 

The natural thing would be to touch him, to show him that he’s misunderstood. To lay your hand on his thigh, maybe, in the place that the armor used to cover. “I meant you almost breaking my arm.”

He draws the cloth over the second pauldron and sets it down on the blanket. He begins to fold the edges of the blanket over, rolling it up so that each piece of armor is cushioned by a layer of cloth. The child abandons his own project and comes over to help, little claws patting the cloth smooth after each fold. “He’s so small. I need to protect him.”

“Not from me.”

“It’s not connected to thinking,” he says. “I’d be too slow.”

“So, no sudden moves?”

He nods, slowly, as if he’d needed to consider carefully. “No sudden moves.”

“Hey,” you say to the child, who has gone over to poke at the remaining stack of armor, the chestplate and greaves and knee guard. “Let’s get him?” The little face turns toward you, but he doesn’t seem to understand. 

You scoot carefully across the floor to close the space between yourself and this man, giving him plenty of time to see what you have in mind. When he lifts his arms to hug you back, he’s shaking again, almost like that very first night. It subsides quickly this time, though, as he pulls you in against his chest, one hand on your lower back, the other between your shoulder blades. His mouth is against your forehead, and your lesson from earlier echoes back to you in the way his lips move against your skin.

You can feel his ribs and belly rise and fall as he breathes deep, and you could swear you can sense his heartbeat against your own chest.

The child toddles over to join you now, climbing up on your thigh to burrow in between the two of you, and snuggle with you both.

[bellero]

The Parker Twins - Part 3.

Summary: This is just a reimagined version of Homecoming but Peter has a twin sister.

Warnings: The occasional swear, arguing, mentions of dead parents.

Authors note: I haven’t updated this in forever, however I want to get back on track with my writing. Also, I decided to miss out the trip to Washington so it gets straight to the angst! Also remember to leave feedback!!

The Parker Twins Masterlist

—————-

May had allowed you to stay home from school after learning about what had happened at the party. You had spent the majority of the day moping around alone, Peter was in school and May was at work, you were bored. Tony had managed to get every trace of the video removed, of course that didn’t fully undo the damages as the entire school was present and saw you punch Flash in the face but still, it was something.  

You were currently in bed, facing the wall with your duvet up to your neck and earphones in your ears, music at full volume. The feeling of dread was still prominent throughout your body, you knew you’d have to go back to school, you knew you were going to have to face up with what you did. I mean sure, Flash deserved it because he was being a total dick but that didn’t stop the pounding voice in the back of your head yelling at you for reacting so irrationally.  

You let out a groan when you heard a knock on the door, you ignored it and threw the blankets over your head letting out a small sigh when the knocking stopped. You turned up your music all the way, blocking out any noise from the outside world. You were about to fall asleep when somebody ripped the blanket away from your body. You shot up and glared at the figure in front of you, “what do you want?” you grumbled as you took out your earphones.  

Tony leant against your desk with his arms crossed, “a little birdie told me you didn’t go to school today… I was just wondering why” you frowned with a furrowed brow, “I punched a guy in the face, Tony, in front of the entire school. I’d rather not show my face in that hellhole again, thank you very much.” You reached down and grabbed your blanket, “now, if you don’t mind, I was going to take a nap. You may show yourself out” You said gesturing towards your door, you led back down and pulled the blanket over your face. You heard Tony let out a sigh, “fine, I guess I’ll need to find somebody else to test out my new lab equipment”.

You quickly climbed out of bed and onto your feet, “test out what now?” you asked, pushing hair out of your face. Tony smirked, “we’re moving the headquarters upstate, I got a bunch of new lab equipment. Thought it’d be boring to test it out myself” you nodded your head.

“Yeah, I already know about the move upstate. Hello, I hack you for a living. But- why did you come here?” You asked, Tony rolled his eyes at your hacking comment “Peter left Happy a voicemail saying how you were moping about, thought you’d rather do something useful with your time other than lay in bed listening to, whatever that crap was”.  

You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment about your music taste, “gimme 10 minutes” you said, pushing him out of your room.

You stepped out of your room but stopped at Tony who was looking at the photos on the wall, “that’s my uncle Ben… He died a few weeks after Peter got his powers” you said as you walked over to stand next to him. He pointed at the one next to it “those your parents?” he asked, you nodded your head “I don’t really remember them, same with Peter. Most of our memories have come from photos and home videos… It’s weird, they’re my parents. I should be able to remember them but I just… don’t. Peter remembers way more than me, I don’t get it” you shrugged, you walked towards the fridge and started writing on the magnetic notepad attached to it.

Gone out with Mr. Stark. Be back soon. Love, y/n.

You grabbed a jacket, “what’d you mean you can’t remember your parents?” Tony asked, you shrugged your shoulders, “I dunno. The only memories I’ve ever had of them have been from photos and stuff. Peter remembers them, he can’t remember much but he remembers them” you explained as you walked out of your apartment, Tony stood around as you locked the door.

You and Tony walked side by side as you exited the building, you let out a whistle “nice car” you said as you ran you hand along the bumper, you opened the door and sat down. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a car person” Tony remarked as he turned the engine on, “seatbelt” he said which made you roll your eyes. “I’m not a car person, I just know a good car when I see one” you muttered whilst clipping in your seatbelt.  

“How’s Peter handling the whole Spider-Man thing?” Tony asked quickly glancing over at you as he drove, “I mean… he’s handling like you’d expect a teenager to handle it. Although he has quit band practice, and he almost quit the Decathalon. I don’t know, I think he feels like he HAS to protect people, I mean he’s still a kid… he shouldn’t be throwing away his life to be in some dumb suit” you finished with a huff. Tony pondered over what you had said, he slowly nodded his head “I get it… I was like that when I first became Iron Man, I was obsessed with the suits. It made me feel complete, y’know?” you nodded your head, “also, I designed that suit so stop insulting it” you grinned and shook your head.

————

You were stood outside of the Avengers HQ with Tony stood next to you, “so, what’d you think?” he asked looking over at you, he started walking towards the entrance, you quickly followed. You looked around, “I mean… it’s a bit… loud? I thought top secret military bases were supposed to be inconspicuous… This is a huge white building with Jets in the front yard” you observed whilst putting your hands in your pockets, “okay. One, this isn’t a military base, it’s a headquarters- don’t roll your eyes at me, and two, I chose the design so shut up” he said causing you to let out a snort.  

You walked into the building, you stopped for a second and slowly spun around taking everything in, “holy shit. This place is huge!” Tony looked smug, “but seriously, your design sucks” he flicked the back of your head, “ouch! You don’t have to be a dick about it, jeez” you muttered whilst rubbing your head, “let’s go show you that lab” he said, changing the conversation. He placed his hands on your shoulders and started to steer you in the direction of the elevators.  

You waved at Happy who was exiting one of the elevators, “is everything set up?” Tony asked, Happy nodded his head “yeah, there’s still some stuff at the tower but they’ll be going out with the plane” he explained whilst ignoring your little wave. They exchanged a few more words before you and Tony stepped into the elevator, “bye Happy!” you yelled just before the doors closed, “so, is his name really Happy, or is that just a nickname because obviously it doesn’t match his personality…” you trailed off causing Tony to laugh a little, he shook his head before stepping out of the now opened elevator doors, you followed. He spoke as he walked “his real name is Harold, but I wouldn’t advise calling him that” you nodded your head and followed him through a sliding door.  

You froze in your spot and gaped at the room you were currently stood in, “you’re going to catch flies” Tony muttered before walking over to a table. You slowly walked around the room, running your hand over different machines and work tops, you stopped and pointed towards a robot with a dunce cap on its head “why did you put a dunce cap on a robot?” you asked, Tony looked over at you “oh, that’s Dum.E. He tipped coffee on the worktop and caused some water damage” you frowned at his comment, you took the cap off and patted the robot on the head. You walked over and stood next to Tony, placing the small cap on the table next to you. He pressed a button on the side of the table making a hologram appear in front of you, you let out a small laugh “that’s awesome” you held out your right hand and made the hologram of your brothers suit spin. Tony waved his hand again “I wanna figure out some upgrades for your brother’s suit-” he began before you quickly interrupted him which caused him to look at you in surprise “yeah sounds cool, but, how about instead of working on my brothers already perfect suit we make me my own suit…” you trailed off, he cocked his head “yeah. We can make it white and gold… it’ll be great! Plus, it’ll give you the chance to really challenge some of this newer equipment” you turned to him, he pondered it for a moment before bringing up a clean slate on the hologram, “okay, kid. You’re in control” he said, you bounced on your feet for a moment, “I was thinking of making it like yours… Y’know with thrusters since I can’t exactly swing from buildings. Obviously, I don’t have the room to hide a giant suit so I’ve been playing around with the idea of nanotech… I could hide it in a small bracelet or something, I don’t know” you quickly shied away when you realised you were rambling. Tony nodded his head “you’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?” you shrugged your shoulders, nodding your head ever so slightly “I mean… I guess? I see what Peter does, helping people… I want to do that; I want to help others… I mean, I’m pretty useless in every other department” Tony frowned at that, “so why not put what I’m good at into use” you shrugged your shoulders.

Tony was about to respond when your phone pinged, you looked and saw a text from Aunt May, you let out a groan “Peter hasn’t come back from school, May’s freaking out because he isn’t answering his phone” you quickly replied and pocketed your phone, “could you drop me back?” Tony nodded his head.  

As he drove you back Ned rang you, “he’s done what?! Okay, thanks for telling me. I’ll see you at school. Bye” you hung up the phone and let out a groan of frustration, Tony glanced at you “everything okay?” he asked, you sighed and shook your head,

“Peter found this weird glowing thing from these criminal guys who are using them to make weapons, he put a tracker on one of them and found out that there’s a buy going down on some ferry so he’s gone to stop it” Tony tensed up slightly and pulled up outside your house, “thanks for today. I really needed an excuse to leave my bed” you said whilst climbing out of the car, “bye!” you waved before stepping into the apartment building.

————

It had been a few hours; Peter still wasn’t home. You and May had seen on the news about being split in half, you knew Peter was part of it. You were sat down as May was pacing the room. Your head shot up when the door opened, you furrowed your eyebrows at your brothers’ state, he was wearing hello kitty pyjama trousers and an oversized ‘I survived my trip to NYC t-shirt “hey” he whispered at May, she inhaled deeply and walked over to him,

“I’ve been calling you all day. You didn’t answer your phone. You can’t do that. Then this ferry thing happens. I’ve called five police stations” she spoke, she was clearly still panicking, “five, I’ve called five of your friends”  

“May, I’m okay. Honestly. Just relax, I’m fine” Peter spoke quietly trying to soothe her.

May turned to face Peter, “cut the bullshit. I know you left detention. I know you left the hotel room in Washington. I know you sneak out of this house every night. That’s not fine.” She took a breath “Peter, you have to tell me what’s going on. Just lay it out. It’s just us” she said motioning between you and her. Peter’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears “I lost the Stark internship” he said quickly glancing at you, you stood up “what? What happened?” you asked walking over to him, he collapsed onto the sofa as tears started streaming down his face, he shrugged of the hand you placed on his shoulder which caused you to step back a bit. May shot you a sympathetic look, assuming he was too emotional to want comfort.  

Peter let out a sigh “I just thought I could work really hard. I screwed it up” May started stroking his back “it’s okay” she repeated softly,  

“I’m sorry I made you worry” Peter said with a sigh, May shook her head

“You know I’m not trying to ruin your life… Just- I used to sneak out too” she sniffed Peter’s hair, “and take a shower. You smell like garbage” she said making Peter laugh slightly, he shook his head at her comment “I know” he stood up and walked towards the bathroom, not giving you another glance.  

You turned to May “do you think he’s mad at me?” you asked wringing your hands together, she cocked her head to the side “why would he be mad? This isn’t your fault” she said, you nodded your head.  

“Anyway, how was it hanging out with Tony?” she asked, you smiled and nodded your head “yeah it was really fun, he let me test out a bunch of new equipment” May smiled at your excitement, “that’s great. I’m going to head out and grab some Pizza, will you talk to Peter for me? I know he’s holding back about something and I know he’ll tell you” you nodded, she placed a kiss on her forehead “be back soon” she said and walked out the door.

You walked over to Peter’s bedroom and knocked on the door “hey, can I talk to you?” you asked, you didn’t hear anybody respond so you slowly opened the door and frowned at your brother who was lying in bed, “I’m sorry you lost the internship… I know how much it meant to you” you said whilst leaning against the door frame, “if it helps May’s gone to get some pizza”. You sighed when he didn’t reply.

“He took the suit… Mr. Stark took the suit” he swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up, “he also said that you told him I quit band. Why would you do that?” he asked, you narrowed your eyes “he asked how you were coping with being Spiderman, I said you quit band. So what?” you asked crossing your arms, still confused by his irritation towards you. He let out a groan of frustration “you were with him all day today?” he asked, you nodded your head “I know you told him where I was, this happened because of you” he spat, you quickly sat up straight and stared at him, “excuse me? What happened was not my fault. You’re the one who thought it would be a good idea to chase after those men despite me, Ned and Tony saying that it was a bad idea” he went to speak but you interrupted “and you know what? I’m glad Tony stopped you. You could’ve hurt those people, Peter. You could have died” you sucked in a shuddering breath “I’m sorry you lost the internship. I really am, but I’m not getting the blame for your screw ups” you turned and slammed the door before storming off to your room.

——————

The Parker Twins Tags-

@winchesters-favorite-girl @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @platonic-plots@daughters-and-winsisters @just4muggles @humanexile @family-business-one-shots @rosegoldquintis @sassy-specter @unicorn-sparkles123 @saturn-aka-six @octo-cow52 @thegirlwholikestomanythings@zeusmyster @6gotosleep9 @miyaint @grimzszs @sara29392 @deansdeliciouspies @emwinchester1 @lizlil @antiscocialfanwarrior@anothershorthuman @mellilla-rose @paintballkid711 @ixchel-9275@ficnalunaus @steve-rogcrs @floral-marauders @havlindzk@bellamyblakemorley @slothalicious-bae @ellaorelizabeth @klanceiscannon14@sydm15 @thetruthisiamironwoman @i-meant-trash-panda @hazthotsterfield@i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @booksandmischief @twobitss@sheerioasteroidpanda @supernatural-demigod @jiminslonglostjams @chloe-geoghegan1 @dovexparker @wiseeggspickleslime @tywys @griff1ndor @bisexual-disappointment 

[inkedsoldier]

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA - Chapter Ten

A/N: Here it is – chapter ten of the AMOR VINCIT OMNIA series! Writer’s block struck me while writing this chapter, but I think it turned out pretty well. I really appreciate all the feedback I already got on the series so far. Upcoming weekend I will spend some time on the requests I got this week (inbox is open!). Chapter eleven is planned for next week. Enjoy & please let me know what you think. Thanks for all the support!

Y/N = Your name.

Y/F/N = Your first name.

Y/L/N = Your last name.

Y/N/N = Your nickname.

Characters: Sam Drake, Nathan Drake, Victor Sullivan, Y/N.

Warnings: angst, fluff.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Ten Recruited

The sound of thunder startled Sam out of a nightmare. His cheeks were wet and his body bathed in cold sweat. The sheets were twisted around his limbs, probably because he was trashing in his sleep. With his heart pounding in his chest he sits up straight. Almost losing you yesterday didn’t do him any good. And not to forget the way Victor Sullivan judged him for bringing you and Nathan back into this life.

 Flashback You were still unconscious when Sully takes care of your pretty nasty headwound. “It took a long time for them to get out of this game,” Victor spoke softly. “Huh?” Sam replied not knowing where he was going with it. “I realize it couldn’t be easy… all those years away. And I’m sorry for what happened to you. But it’s not their fault,” he continued while cleaning the dried blood from your face. Sam was confused, “You see a gun to their head? They chose this, okay. We are meant for this life.” Sullivan scoffed, “You really believe that?. “Why are you here, Victor?” Sam asked. “Because somebody’s gotta keep an eye out for them.”

 Everything is blurry when you open your eyes. You questioned how you got in bed, or how you got in these clothes. Your muscles felt weak, just like your energy. Aside from your own breath, there is nothing to be heard and the room is too dark to see much at all. Where is everyone? The last thing you remember is sliding down the slope towards the plane, and the freezing water. Everything after that is gone. Your head throbbed, feeling like you had taken a knife to the skull. Slowly you lift your hands to your forehead and graze the stitches. “That is definitely Sullivan’s handy work,” you mumble. Carefully you sit up, swinging your legs off the bed. Still a bit unsteady you shuffle to the door. You walked down the hall, looking through a couple rooms until you spot Sam’s denim jacket. “That’s his jacket, but where is he?” you whisper walking on to the next door. “Oh, bathroom. Just what I need.”

Without making too much noise you open the door, but the view in front of you made you gasp; Sam was taking a shower, washing the last signs from the nightmare off his body. You could have turned around, but quietly you undress and step in the shower behind Sam. He didn’t hear you over the running water. Gently you wrap your arms around him, leaving a kiss on his back. He opened his eyes and turns around to face you. “Hey, you scared me,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss on your head. “What happened?” you ask looking into his hazel eyes. “You almost drowned, Y/N/N. One moment you were behind me, and the next you were gone. Nathan had to use CPR on you.” You were shocked - your brain stuttered for a moment, while every part of you goes on pause and the thoughts catch up. Sam noticed and pulled you closer again, so your head could rest on his chest. The water pours down and drips down your side as you relax into his arms. After half an hour you step out of the shower and walk back to your bedroom. A few extra hours of sleep were welcome, because at noon you would take off to your next destination. Sam was exhausted, but with your body next to him it was easier to relax and eventually fall asleep.

 The next day The map in Scotland led you to King’s Bay in Madagascar. All the recruits that were looking for Avery’s Paradise centuries ago left with a coin after completing the trial, and Nathan figured out that the coin was holding the next clue.  “So… with our luck, what are the odds this volcano is going to erupt on us?” Nate asked. “Zero. It’s extinct. Trust me, that’s the first thing I looked up when you said we were heading for a volcano. Well, that and where to rent the cheapest 4x4,” Sully answered. “Wait, Sully… you’re telling me that you actually did some research?” you asked with a huge smile on your face. “Can’t let you be the know-it-all every time, kid” he replied with a wink.

 Nadine’s men were already searching the area inch by inch when you arrived. They had found an old colony outpost, but it was the wrong one. The four of you took out the military types at the old fort and were heading further up the mountain. The view was spectacular, like you were at one of those locations on a postcard, but the way up was muddy and wobbly. Luckily, Nathan convinced Sully to rent a jeep with a winch. Carefully you drove on and arrived at an old ruin with a drawbridge. “Well, it would appear we got here first,” Nate said. “Let’s check the place out and keep moving,” Sam replied. “What do you make of the drawbridge, Nathan?” he asked. “A little out of place. But you don’t put up a drawbridge unless you are trying to hide something.” The stairs to the crank of the drawbridge was busted, so you had to find another way to lower the medieval mechanism. Nate climbed up the tower, and you, Sam and Sully checked out the ruins. “I just keep waiting to wake up and find myself in solitary or something,” Sam spoke softly. “It’s all some kind of dream.” “Sam, I… I’m still struggling too. It’s normal, you know. I wake up in the middle of the night, just to check if you are really here. That it’s not some kind of twisted dream. Fifteen years ago I lost you. I lost everything. And now… there is so much to talk about, but I just don’t know where to start… how to start,” you told him. “My heart is still yours. And that will never change. I love you, Sam. And I hope… I really hope you still feel the same.” Sam stepped closer and cupped your face, “Babe, I’ve been wishing to hold you in my arms all these damned years. Fuck. I wanted to see you, hug you, kiss you, make you smile and make you laugh. Lie on the sofa next to you and fall asleep with you beside me. I love you too. Don’t you ever forget that.” Suddenly you heard Nathan, “Hey guys, there’s a massive tower just past the drawbridge. Biggest one yet.” He was on top of the tower and standing behind a crate. “Sam! Special delivery!” he yelled as he pushed the crate down and got pulled down with it. “Whooaa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he screamed before crashing down on the building. “Hey kid, you all right?” Sully asked as you run over to the younger Drake. “I’m fine,” he replied. “Thank god,” you said grabbing his arm. “But uh… maybe you can use this crate to get to the crank,” you continued. He climbed on top of it and jumped towards the higher level. “You three just relax, I got this,” he joked reaching for the wheel. The drawbridge was half way when Sully told Nate to stop immediately, “Stop, stop! Shoreline coming! Guys, hide!” Sam pulled you with him behind the abandoned structure, and Sully ran towards the tower. Quickly you pull out your gun and move closer to the side of the ruin so you had a clear view. “Ah, these clowns are really getting on my nerves,” you whispered. “No shit,” Sam answered almost inaudible. With caution you and Sam creep up to the car and take out a few mercenaries, as Nathan and Sully take down the ones near the tower. “Hey! Let’s go before more Shoreliners show up!” Sullivan shouted running for the car. “All right… now… let’s get that bridge down,” Nathan responded making his way to the crank.

 When you arrive at the tower you notice that the entranced is blocked. You had to find another way to get in and claim Avery’s treasure. With the help of some explosives and grenades you get inside a small building in front of the tower. “Time to see what’s inside,” Nate exclaimed. You ran down a spiral staircase and come upon a large hall, just like the one in the Scottish cathedral. Again there is a Saint Dismas statue, but this time its surrounded by multiple sigils. “There’s our boy Avery. Thomas Tew. And that’s, um…” Sam continued, “That’s Adam Baldridge. That’s Joseph Farrell, and that’s Richard Want.” “Hm. Pirate captains,” Nathan replied. “I don’t think your pirate pool theory wasn’t so ridiculous after all,” you observed. “All right, so uh… Let’s see, what do you think the trick is here? You gotta push a button, pull something?” Nate asked. You walk back over to Sullivan to get a better view of the wall and start to chuckle. “You see what I see, Sully?” “Darling, I think we got ourselves a map,” he replied with a smile. “Boys. Whenever you’re done fondling poor Saint Dismas, I think you might want to come take a look at this... The trapezoid is obviously the volcano. The crown, that’s King’s Bay,” he explained. “Victor, you’re a goddamn genius,” Sam responded as you walk back to statue again. “Look, this tower lines up with Avery’s sigil. So, the other sigils must be the towers from Avery’s time. Our treasure must be in one of them, right?” you remark. “Yeah, but which one? I count twelve towers,” Sullivan asked. You didn’t get the time to figure that out as an explosion crumbles down the roof of the hall. “Ah, shit!” Sam calls out. “It’s an ambush!”

 After taking down the last of the Shoreline mercenaries you walk back to the statue. Sam was crouching over one of the bodies. “Shit! Look at this,” he uttered holding up a map with markings on it. “They figured out the towers too. Locations, sigils, the works.” “So now what?” Sully asked. “Now we’re screwed. Okay, because there’s four of us. And there’s God knows how many of them? And they have a  head start.” Sam said with anger in his voice. “Yeah, but they don’t know which tower to go to yet,” Nate stated walking over to you. “That’s great, Nathan, cause neither do we,” Sam replied. “Yes we do,” you state as you hold up the coin and point towards the sigil with the scale. “Are you sure? Because I mean it could be this one, too” Sam said pointing to the sigil with the trident. “Crap!” Nathan scoffed. “But still… two beats the hell out of twelve,” Sullivan added.

Tag list: @kiara-arts​ @wintermuteway​

[wackapedia]

Hello, My Alien! || Part 4: We Have A Problem

Taehyung X Reader

Y/n is traveling to Terran-03 to find her soulmate, Taehyung who is also from her home planet. Two aliens in one roof, what could go wrong?

Fluff, a dash of angst, crack, and alien things

Hello My Alien Masterlist

You wake up in your little folding bed tucked in the space under the stairs of the shared dormitory. The large edifice did not happen to have a spare bedroom, which prompted some of the dorm inhabitants to offer their rooms for you. You, of course did not want to impose and chose this makeshift quarters instead. Lying still on the bunk, you note that none of them are up at this hour. The nearest star has broken the horizon and your digestive pouch grumbles. Before you could sit up, a string of heavy footsteps rattle the ceiling of your makeshift quarters. Soon, the divider is ripped open and reveals Jimin, holding his communicator device. "Hey, Harry potter, wake up." "Good morning, Jimin. I have been awake for 36 minutes." You answer him from your folding bunk. "Management is coming over and you're not supposed to be here." He yells, running back up the stairs, possibly to wake everyone up. You take a moment to understand this recent information. Management? Deciding to start your day, you fold the single-sized bunk and stow it away between a shelf under the stairs. A small pile of male-sized sweaters and sweatpants are stored in one of the shelf holes. Taehyung decided that the clothing you brought are not earth-appropriate and had promised to take you shopping for your own. Stepping out of the spandrel closet, you hear all 7 inhabitants scrambling down the stairs and then spreading to the common room and the kitchen to sort their mess out. "Hey so we have a problem.." Taehyung slides in next to you. "3 minutes!" Seokjin yells from the kitchen. "What's going on?" You ask. "People from the company are coming over, and we aren't allowed to have guests in the house." "...I see. Do you want me to dematerialize?" You ask. "I don't know a safe place for you and we don't have time to look for one." "Should I use my computer's cloaking feature, then?" "Y-you have a cloaking feature?!“ The look on Taehyung's face is both of surprise and relief. "Yes, but its only for one time use." You tell him. "Great, how long does it last?" "One Terran hour, at most." "THEYRE HERE!!!" Seokjin's voice rattles the whole house. "Go, go! I'll sort out the spandrel closet. You can stand there..." Taehyung points at a wall beside where the entertainment plate was mounted. He quickly tosses the stack of clothes in the washing equipment. The main door opens, revealing a whole team of people, dressed similarly, and are carrying all sorts of tools. You press your invisible figure against the wall when one of them passes directly in front of you. "Hey boys. Routine inspection. You know the drill." A bossy man sits on the couch, prompting the rest of the dorm inhabitants to sit down as well. "Come on, Jun-ho, don't you trust us?" Seokjin pipes in laughing a little too loud, causing suspicion to arise on the authoritarian's eyes. Yoongi and Namjoon shuts him up. "There's something in the tabloids for you..." Jun-ho comments, passing a digital pad to Taehyung. You wish you could go over and see what it is, but the cloaking system can only be reliable when you stand very still. "This looks photoshopped, come on." Taehyung whines. The rest of them gather around the digital pad squinting at whatever the display is. "That's not the point. The point is that, were you or were you not out with someone last night?" You swear under your breath. "No! I was here the whole time!" Taehyung lies. He's a great liar, you note. Lying in your home planet was rare as it is considered illogical. "Well, you better make sure of that." Jun-ho pushes. "Manager-nim, Taehyung is telling the truth. The picture is obviously photoshopped. This photo belongs in a supernatural website than in a gossip column." Namjoon passes the digital pad back to Jun-ho who was still eyeing them suspiciously, and continues to do so for a whole Terran minute. It was almost unnerving how Jun-ho's eyes stare holes into their seven skulls. He almost looks non-Terran. "Aren't you gonna offer me a drink?" Jun-ho makes himself comfortable, leaning back and crossing his legs. "Sure. Banana milk...?" Jungkook offers. "You actually drink that shit?" Jun-ho cusses unnecessarily. Throughout your three day stay, these six locals have been nothing but nice to you. Some of them may be standoffish, like Yoongi and Jimin, but they would never be rude to you. Which is why Jun-ho's behavior makes all of them uncomfortable. Taehyung occasionally checks his watch while bouncing his leg against the floor. If his timer was accurate, your cloaking will only last for the next 12 minutes. The maintenance team are packing up their tools on the foot of the stairs. Jun-ho decides to take a walk, to inspect the compartment under the stairs. He takes a peek around the shelves, tapping here and there. If he noticed something, he didn't show it at all. "Thanks for your patience boys. We're only doing this for your welfare." He stands in front of the tv, a little to the right and he'd be directly behind you. Your wrist computer counts down to the cloaking's last minute as the maintenance team filters out of the room. The door shuts and everyone exhales, including you. The cloaking expires, making your figure gradually fade into visibility. "We can not go through that ever again. I will literally die." Hoseok collapses on the couch. "We wont. Because she's leaving. Tonight. Right, Taehyung?" Jimin sharply calls Taehyung's attention. "Wait, really? Did your beacon respond?" Taehyung asks, a little crestfallen at the notion of you leaving. It was rich of you to note Taehyung's lie to Jun-ho when he was protecting you when your own lie about the beacon had no logical reasoning wharsoever. You didn't realize you were a burden to these six Terrans, and to Taehyung, who has become more Terran than your own species. "No.. It hasn't responded." You lie. Again. "Oh, that's fine.." Taehyung answers, looking relieved. "Fine? Nothing is fine! Management is literally breathing down our necks and you all couldn't be more obvious that you're hiding some alien in the house! What if the next inspection wont be announced, then what?! As if that's not enough, we have a dating scandal looming around!" Jimin bursts. For a minute, all eyes were moving from you to Taehyung and Jimin. Taehyung finally spoke. "Is this what you all think? Do you agree with Jimin?" The silence extends. And then, a muffled noise of your knees dropping, bowing deeply. Keunjeol. "My sincerest apologies for causing discomfort to you all. You have shown me nothing but kindness." You speak, voice muffled under your weight. Taehyung pulls you up by the arm to pull you upstairs to his room. "Tae, we need to be at the office by 8." Namjoon reminds him, standing at the foot of the stairs. Taehyung offers no answer. "Give me your transporter." Taehyung demands. "Are you sending me away?" You ask. Tears threatening to fall. "What? No. We're moving. You're staying with me. Give me the transporter." You pass him the cylindrical device, letting him input coordinates to a location not far from here. "Ready?" He holds your hand and presses the launch button as soon as you nod. You realize that the photo Jun-ho was showing them earlier was the photo taken in the middle of you and Taehyung dematerializing in the dark alley. The flashing in the corner of your eye was probably the photographic device going off. You materialize in a large room, more furnished than the ones in the dormitory. "This is my apartment. You'll be staying here for now, until your beacon responds." Do not leave this place alone. I have to go to work right now but I'll be back soon. I'll bring you some stuff. Shame we cant go shopping together anymore." He sighs. After he gets dressed, Taehyung leaves you in his apartment. You distract yourself with the books on his shelf, and the magnificent view of the metro from so high above the ground. Soon, you feel yourself getting drowsy. You let yourself lie down on the foamy flooring. Its so much fluffier than your folding bunk back at the dormitory. You sleep a dreamless sleep for an unknown set of time. Converting Terran time sure is exhausting. ------ "Why are you sleeping on the carpet?" A familiar deep voice wakes you from your slumber. "Who the hell is she?!" Another voice, an unfamiliar one, shrieks at you.

[smuttymess]

a simple dinner | 01

pairing: jung hoseok x female reader x jeon jungkook (brief mention)

genre: angst, smut, idol!hobi x jk  

rating: 18+ 

word count: 2,000

warnings: jealousy, degradation, casual sex, public sex, dom!hoseok, explicit language, mf fingering, cum play

about: you knew flirting with men other than your boyfiend, hoseok, came with consequences - but that didn’t stop you from giving jungkook all of your attention at the group’s reunion dinner. after all, consequences doled out by a jealous hoseok can sometimes be good thing.

navigation: part two

::::::

Hoseok could barely look at you. His eyes were fixed on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel, clenched around it so tightly that the skin around his knuckles were losing color. The two of you had been sitting in silence ever since you left the restaurant, and the tension was impenetrable.

You were smarter than to push him when he’s so visibly upset, but the silence was insufferable, and you were desperate for even a hint of kindness from your boyfriend. 

“Please forgive me.”

Hoseok stares blankly over the steering wheel, his eyes laser-focused on the road ahead. It was as if you weren’t even there.

You knew you had been flirting too much with Jungkook at dinner. 

This evening was special, a reunion for the members and their guests after their first extended break since debut. Everyone was dressed to the nines: Hoseok in a crisp white button down and a sports jacket, you in your favorite little leather black dress that he had purchased for you while he was shooting in Los Angeles. He always knew exactly how to spoil you, and it turned him on to know he would be tearing it off later on. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you underneath the table as the members recounted the adventures from the break, the wine flowing and the mood high. 

While the boys were always gorgeous, Jungkook looked particularly attractive tonight. He radiated a post-vacation glow that can only come after some time away from a grueling schedule, his skin perfectly sun-kissed after spending some much-needed time in the sun. He wore a white button down that showed the definition of strong biceps, strengthened further by the countless hours at at the gym during his time off. You didn’t think he could get any hotter, yet you never failed to be surprised every time you saw him. Tonight it was almost impossible to peel your eyes away from his body: his biceps flexing as they moved against the confines of his shirt, his strong, gripping hands, his back muscles as they rippled with every subtle movement.

He was also growing out his hair - now past his ears - and it looked fucking good. You noticed each time the lush dark brown locks fell across his face as he laughed at one of Namjoon’s poetic ramblings. His youthful mannerisms were more noticeable as his hair tumbled over his eyes, his hands in constant motion as they repeatedly rushed up to sweep it away, making for a perfect view of his stunning facial features. 

It was hard not to adore is boyish charm alongside the innate sexiness that emanated from him without really trying: how his nose scrunched and lips curved in delight as he enjoyed the night’s meal, his eyes widening as he entertained the group with stories about his time at home. 

You knew Jungkook had a thing for you. Even with a perfectly fine date by his side, you would often catch him staring from across the table, your eyes momentarily locking in a flirtatious stare as you flashed him a teasing smile. He hadn’t yet developed the ability to hide his crush, his cheeks immediately getting flushed and eyes jetting down to his plate. His hands would toy with the silverware, steering his attention to various inanimate objects on the table as he regained composure. It was adorable. 

Things had been this way for years, and you knew it would be so easy (and fun) to fuck this man, but you always kept your distance. However attractive he was, to you he was simply an amusement for you - a welcome, shameless flirtation that did not extend after the night was done. 

Jungkook was fun to play with, but you only had eyes for Hoseok.

If only you could get Hoseok could see it that way.

Hoseok’s stern expression never wavered, even at the sound of your pleading voice. Exasperated, your eyes stare straight ahead into the darkness of the single-lane road, the iridescent lights of the downtown skyscrapers disappearing in the rearview as you moved into the quieter, more exclusive neighborhood of Hannam-dong. 

The sound of the motor revved, ascending up several steep, winding hills, at an extremely rapid speed. After several more agonizing minutes, you finally arrived at Hoseok’s complex, the front gates opening as you move up the final patch of road leading to his apartment building. The door to the garage opened at an agonizingly slow pace, swiftly closing behind you as the car made its way into the dimly lit garage. 

This wasn’t the first time Hoseok got jealous - far from it.  He was the nicest guy, known for his charisma and optimistic nature. But he was also possessive of you - he always has been. He chose you, quickly and feverishly claiming you and sweeping you up into the world. Anything you wanted - clothes, shoes, apartments, trips - were yours so long as you asked. He was the most devoted, caring and generous partner a woman could ask for. 

He asked one small thing in return: complete ownership of you. 

You loved him deeply, but you had always been naturally independent, flirtatious, social butterfly that could not be simply kept. Admittedly, there was a part of you that enjoyed seeing him tense up, in knowing that you weren’t fully his. 

With each passing moment in the speeding car, you grew more and more nervous, yet equally excited, about what consequences tonight’s discretion would bring. 

::::::

Pulling into the designated parking spot, Hoseok shut off the car, quieting the engine and but leaving the keys in the ignition. The headlights flickered off, leaving you with only the subdued lights from the garage.

Still looking over the dashboard, Hoseok finally broke the silence.

“You know, you were flirting with Jungkook the entire night.” 

“Hoseok, I -” your face turned to him in an attempt to make the eye contact you’ve been yearning for throughout the ride. 

You immediately paused as you see his lips press together, the intensity of his anger building with every second.

"Acting like a total slut at the restaurant,” he hissed. “Smiling and batting your lashes at Jungkook in of the hyungs, in front of me, like you’re not my fucking girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened at the accusation, though you knew without a doubt that you were guilty as hell.

“I’ve told you before how I feel about that, so I can only imagine that you knew this would get a rise out of me, hmm?” Your right palm began to scale the side of your left arm, your fingertips combing the leather fabric of the dress, desperate for the comfort of physical touch. 

You recognized a familiar warmth building in between your thighs, your arousal growing despite the tension of the moment, or perhaps because of it.

He abruptly turned to you with a stare that instantly made you feel powerless against him. The severity of his gaze pierced right through you, his eyes narrowing and growing darker as they examine your frazzled state. Your lips open with a shortened breath, a faulty attempt to appeal to his softer side. 

You could recognize that you were no longer talking to your boyfriend, Hobi. This was Hoseok: jealous, intimidating, and extremely demanding. 

"My girlfriend is such a little slut. You love to taunt me, don’t you?” His domineering tone combined with the sheer potency of his emotion had you on edge. And he knew it. 

“Knowing how much it pisses me off, knowing you’re going get punished,” he snarls. “Look at you - I bet you’re already wet.”

Before you could even process a next step, Hoseok abruptly opened the driver side door, exiting the car. You can feel your heartbeat racing as your eyes darted around to follow his movements through the dark. He crossed the front of the car to your side, hastily opening your door before leaning in and giving you a menacing stare. He looks especially devilish standing over you, his left arm leaning against the front seat while the other swiftly moves beneath the fabric of your dress.

A short gasp escapes your lips as two fingers move up your inner thigh and swiftly shift the lace of your panties before, landing directly on your throbbing clit. You tense up in response to his touch, his fingers covered in your wetness almost immediately.

“See how well I know your body? How I know just how and where to touch you? Nobody knows it like I do - no one ever will.” He wet his lips before pursing them together in smug delight, your body fully melting into his grip as your eyes reflected your desire.

“Is this what you wanted from Jungkook? Were you thinking of his fingers in your cunt just like this?” 

His eyes never leave yours as his fingers tease you. It is clear that he is attempting to pry a confession from you as you sit there, fully exposed and at his mercy. The hard, cool metal of his rings firmly indented your skin sends noticeable shivers through your body as your head leans back to meet the headrest of the front seat. His right index and middle fingers begins to circle your clit, pressing firmly between your lips and sliding in. You to let out a loud moan as enters you, your eyelids falling shut as you sink into bliss your walls tightening around his fingers as they sink deeper into your warm cunt.

The brief moment of ecstacy is interrupted by Hoseok’s left hand at the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing your eyes back open to meet his. Though slightly hidden by his honey brown locks and the angular shadows of the garage, his deep stare permeates through you. He is a dom, wanting to see tell you just how much you are enjoying the pleasure he is exacting on you. His voice deepens, immediately commanding control. 

“Don’t you fucking close your eyes while I’m here. You haven’t paid attention to me all night, even as you’re wearing this dress I bought for you. I need you to remember who you belong to.”

You can only whimper obediently a his fingers slip in and out of you, the speed ramping up and causing your walls to clench tighter against his fingers, essentially rendering you speechless. You feel your wetness building, dripping onto his palm as he curves deeper into you, steadily dripping onto the interior of the front seat. He leans in to meet your face, his stare deepening and lips gently touching you as he growls into your ear.

“I need you to understand that what happened tonight cannot continue to happen, do you hear me?” 

You cannot even begin to formulate words as his pace continues to build in ferocity, a tightening deep within you forming in response to the stimulation. His thumb moves up to rub your clit, his fingers continuing to pulse in and out. His left hand comes down to tilt your chin up towards him, his eyes signaling that he demands a response as he brings you closer to your edge.

“Tell me Jungkook could never fuck you like I do.”

At your failure to respond quickly, his movements come to a complete stop - his grip tightening against your chin as stares into you. You buckle against the stillness of his fingers, shaking out of sheer desperation for him to continue to get you off. He smirks at you in your pathetic, anguished state - you will get no mercy for him.

“Speak up, princess. You had plenty to say earlier. No need to be quiet now.”

“J-jungook could never, ever fuck me as good as you do,” you stutter.

A deliciously sinister smile forms on his lips, his feverish pace resuming and bringing you back into the heat of the moment. You look to him, eyes pleading to finally bring you relief. The vengeful gaze he returns, void of any leniency, makes your legs buckle beneath his touch. 

“Tell me who you belong to.”

Your pleasure rests in his hands as he continues to spread you open, increasingly more more aggressive as your breathiness intensified. Swallowing a shallow gulp, you are able to muster the words needed to satisfy him - the words he always wanted to hear from you.

“You, Hoseok. I’m yours.”

You flinch as a smirk forms across his face, his eyes glimmering with innate satisfaction of knowing that in this moment he has you, fully and completely.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Now, cum all over my fingers. Show me how much you love me.”

The forcefulness of his tone, the depth of his fingers, the coolness of his rings pressed directly against your dripping cunt - it is all too much. You immediately lose control, coming undone in the front seat of this public parking garage. Your moans are loud and feverish, your back arching as the beginnings of your orgasm rages through your body, sending blissful shock waves through the length of your spine. The euphoria consumes you, leaving you all at once breathless, disoriented and hungry for more as his movements slow inside of you.

Before you can process the last few moments, Hoseok quickly removes his fingers from beneath your dress, slipping them into his mouth before planting a kiss on your lips and gently brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You look at him, entirely disoriented and reeling from this pleasure, entirely unsure of his next move. 

The shadow shifts, darkness covering his face entirely as he leans up out of the car and into the stillness of the parking lot. You can't see his expression, but you can feel him staring down at you with simmering, knowing glare. You watch as his mouth curves up into a smile, his hand slowly extending out to you - the long-awaited act of kindness from the man you love, the man who knows just how to ruin you. 

“Let’s get upstairs. I’m not even close to being done with you.” 

[potaetaezz]

|| Sweet Like Coffee || 12

prev << >> next

pairing: Nct Dream x Reader  [female]

genre/au: fluff | teeny bit of angst (to come) | enemies to lovers | Everyone is just a clueless bunch of weirdos, you get the drill… or so you thought.

warnings: slight swearing, immature content, underage drinking

A/N: its’s my first fanfic so no judgment lol | Longer Chp | here we go~

_____________________________________

Your cheeks were on fire as Haechan eyed you up. Your stomach knotted, a soft panic began to rise in the depth of your heart. You glanced to Jaemin who seemed relaxed, almost calm. But his posture was too straight. You were now aware of how close he sat beside you. Aware of how you didn’t move away. Haechan was persistent, awaiting your reply. The silence roared. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I—”

“Leave her off Haechan.” Jaemin got there first. Amusement lining his deep voice. He was enjoying this. 

Satisfaction leaked from Haechan’s unpleasant smirk, making you tense. His expression, that look made you feel uneasy. Contentment found in the darkness of his ebony eyes. His longing stare. He knew something.

He could see you were all too close. He could see Jaemin’s simper. He was aware. You hoped for the best. Pleaded that he didn’t know about your kiss in the dark. But his face, that cruel smile told you otherwise.

You could feel the heat of Jaemin’s gaze on you. Watching your reaction. But you didn’t give in.

Jeno came back just in time to lighten the mood, handing you the glass of water. 

“It’s a game night, right? Are we gonna play some games or-”

“Yeah Mario Kart, duh.” Renjun laughed.

Haechan turned back to Lila with a glowing smile, but Jaemin kept his unlawful eyes on you. It was irritating, to say the least. You turned to him, prepared to finally ask ‘what’, but instead he moved his gaze to the game console. Gesturing to the now free game controllers.

“Think you can beat me?” He said. 

“Is the pope Catholic?” 

His eyes wander to the floor for a second, almost processing, thinking about your words.

“Oh my go- yes of course I can beat you.”

He quirked his eyebrows, a smile taunting his lips.

You settled yourself onto the floor. Hands gripped the controller comfortably. You were a master at video games, but playing against Jaemin made you doubt yourself. 

“And if I lose?” He added. For if you were going to play, there had to be a consequence.

“If you lose,” you thought for a second, “bring me in coffee for a week.” You did love coffee, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his head, smirk growing. “And if you lose, I’m walking you home tonight. I might even try to meet your brother.” He winked at Haechan discreetly. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t staring right at him.

“Well, then I won’t lose.”

You picked your characters for the race and the pathway. You chose ‘Princess Peach’ in spite of his nickname, and he chose Wario. Everyone was watching, all eyes on the two of you. You were both competitive, both stubborn and both wanted to win. What else could you want for a great game.

As the screen counted 3, 2, you leaned forward, repeatedly pressing the acceleration button. You got a head start, speeding into the lead. A bend appeared, you drifted, keeping tight on the corner. You were ahead, first. You held your position until Jaemin sent a green shell just for you. You reacted fast, swerving to the left, avoiding it.

You kept right in front of Jaemin, making sure he couldn’t pass you out. But he was good. He drifted early on the bend, using the slipstream to speed past you. 

You sighed, hands cramping. 

You saw a shortcut Jaemin had stupidly missed. A smirk tugged the corner of your mouth. You just might have a chance at winning this. As the shortcut ended you pulled out on to the road at perfect timing, right in front of Jaemin. You soon drove through a mystery box, collecting a banana. You dropped it immediately in front of Jaemin. He was too close behind, he couldn’t swerve or move. He drove right into the banana, spinning out to the side.

An agitated grunt slipped from his mouth.

You were in the lead yet again, but you didn’t underestimate him. You kept your turns tight, avoiding any shells sent your way. But the finish line was in view. You were so close, almost there. 

Until Jaemin speeded up beside you out of nowhere, with the help of a mushroom. But his speed wasn’t going to last long. He failed to overtake you. You kept your speed up. You were ahead by a fraction, by a breath. You sped through the final set of mystery boxes but you were too focused to get anything. A thundercloud appeared above Wario’s head, giving him that final boost. But the finish line was close. He swerved. He just barely touched you. 

A lightning bolt began to spin above your head. It flashed. You were hit. You stopped just for a second. But it was too late, that was enough for Jaemin to drive right through the shining finish line. That stupid smile glued to his face.

“What’s your brothers name again?” He asked, getting even more arrogant.

“Uhh, I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Fuck off’.” You tried to hide your laugh.

“Don’t be a sore loser now.”

Renjun had already snatched the controller from your hand before you could stand up, challenging Jaemin to another game.

“Bring it on.”

———

The rest of the night was packed with multiple people losing to Jaemin, you beating Jeno more than once, and Renjun insisting he’s actually good at Mario Kart. It was hard to admit, but that night was actually a lot of fun. Maybe because you were was temporarily relieved of the heavy weight balancing on your conscience.

Jeno seemed to be back to his 'regular self’, or his ‘good self’, cracking jokes left right and center. Bad jokes at that. Haechan was preoccupied with Lila for most of the night, acting suspiciously nice to her. As for Jaemin, you thought his company was okay. Well, annoyingly enjoyable to say the least. You two could finally get along, finally agree on something -> that Mario Kart is at least in the top five best games ever created.

But as they say, there’s always the calm before the storm.

———

“Don’t forget I’m walking you home.” Jaemin whispered as you watched Lila and Renjun attempting to dance. 

“Oh, how could I forget?” At least it was a short walk to your house.

Jeno had already left, to complete ‘unfinished business’. Haechan was gathering his stuff to leave. He shouted out a ‘thanks’ before disappearing out the door.

“You ready?” Jaemin added.

You nodded your head. It was getting late and you couldn’t stand to watch Renjun dance any longer. 

“You’re leaving already?” You heard Renjun shout as you opened the door. If you stayed any longer to answer that question, he’d never let you leave.

The air was warmer than you imagined as you stepped out into the night, Jaemin following. Although he didn’t speak for a while, you two just walked in silence. 

“Since when were you such good friends with Renjun?” You broke the silence. Unable to hold back the seriousness in your voice.

“We hung out at the party, and yesterday we all had to help Haechan clean up. We got to know each other then.” 

Of course, the party. The party where Jeno had changed. The party where you kissed Jaemin. You took a quick glance at his lips. The party, how could you forget. It was all too easy to forget Jeno’s words that night, all too easy to forget Jaemin’s tricks. 

You began to feel the pressure of unsaid words between you both. Stretching. Screaming. Begging to be released. Finally, Jaemin gave in.

“So, Jeno huh?”

You knew what he meant. You knew what he wanted you to say. But you played innocent instead. Avoiding the question, the real question lurking in his words. 

“Yeah, what’s up with him lately?”

———

POV - Jaemin

———

“So, Jeno huh?” He tried to chuckle, tried to laugh, but his throat was closing in. He wanted the truth. But he knew you wouldn’t tell him of all people. 

He could see you thinking it through, processing every inch of his voice. He could see your thoughts before you spoke. For your face thought before you did. 

“Yeah, what’s up with him lately?” A diversion. How clever.

He could’ve easily told you what’s wrong with Jeno, what he was doing. He could’ve easily ruined Jeno’s disguise, his plan. But what would you say? What would Jeno do then? So instead he swallowed the truth clawing its way up his throat. Ignored the plea in his heart. He decided to let you be fooled, for you were a fool all the same. 

“He’s the same as always.”

———

POV - y/n

———

There was a tension between you both. Taking up space in the darkness.

“He’s the same as always.”

Was he though?

You couldn’t help but wonder if Jeno’s change was due to alcohol or lust, or if he was just battling between two different sides of himself. Nevertheless, you were beginning to miss his kind gestures and warm smile.

Your eyes finally settled on Jaemin once again. On his chest rising and falling with each breath. On his hair gleaming thanks to the moon. On his vulnerability in the darkness, which he tried ever so hard to hide, which you tried ever so hard to ignore. It was getting harder and harder to remind yourself of his reputation. Of who he really was. Haechan’s warning rung in your ears.

The next you knew you were at your doorstep. 

“Why did you want to walk me home?” The words fell from your lips casually. Surprisingly. 

“Did you kiss Jeno?” He also spoke casually. Finally allowing himself to speak the words that had been crawling up his throat all night.

Your eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“Nevermind.’ He hissed, turning around. 

“No.” It barely escaped your lips. 

He spun back around to meet your gaze. The light in his dark eyes barely shinning. He stepped closer. A string pulling up the corner of his mouth. He was satisfied. He got what he wanted.

“Oh and y/n,” his expression bringing back that ache inside of you, “thanks for letting me win.” 

You scoffed at his confidence, something you should be used to by now. But before you could retort, he was already walking away. He got what he wanted, what he asked for, an answer. So why should he spend any more time in your presence. 

You were grateful nonetheless, because sadly, horrifyingly, he was also becoming harder and harder to resist. Something happened at the party, something happened to you after that kiss. Something that you wished you could get rid of, dispose of, ignore.

But you were forgetting, neglecting one fact, one detail, that that kiss only stemmed from Jeno and his watching eyes. 

———

POV - Jaemin

———

Something like guilt tugged at his seams when he looked into your eyes. He knew the bet was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t mess with your heart, with your mind. He didn’t want to hurt you. But he also didn’t want to lose. He was winning, his lips had already fused with yours, but he didn’t dare underestimate Jeno. 

He got his answer from you, yet still, he wanted to stay, wanted to keep admiring your features, your lips. But that same sense of guilt that pulled at him everyday and night tormented him, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

———

nanajaeminn: be early for school tomorrow, we need to talk. 

———

Monday [8:06am]

Jaemin swore he’d never been in school that early, but things had to be discussed, and they would more than likely take a while. He walked into the cafeteria and sat down at their table. Of course, he was first. Not long after he noticed Jeno sauntering in, bag falling off his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, we just need to discuss something.”

“Let me have a guess, the bet?”

Jaemin nodded his head. “Oh by the way, how was Mina last night?”

Jeno chuckled, “She was good, if you get what I mean.” He winked.

The door opened as Haechan appeared. Bags gathered under his eyes, most likely from lack of sleep. His hair was messy, his jacket was half on. He more than likely just woke up. “What did I miss?”

Jaemin cleared his throat, gathering their attention before he spoke. “Let’s stop the bet.”

 Jeno and Haechan looked at him with wide eyes, speechless. Until Haechan attempted to gather some words together.

“Wh-wha, why, it’s just getting fun?”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of losing?” Jeno piped in with a snide remark.

Jeno was taking this discussion as a joke, but Jaemin was deadly serious. He had no idea what he wanted to say, or what he was going to say, but he had to say something. For the guilt was torture.

Jaemin swallowed. The guilt, the regret pulled at him, shook him until it exploded. Until he burst.

“It’s not fair to y/n. Let’s just stop it, okay? Why can’t we just stop it?” The ache, the torment ceased. He could finally breathe.

Jeno began to laugh, but it wasn’t amusing. “Since when did you care for her?”

Haechan kept his mouth shut as Jeno continued, “You’re the one who started it in the first place.” 

“I know, but I regret it.” Jaemin sighed. He wasn’t used to being the good guy, the guy who wanted to stop someone from getting hurt. He hated that y/n brought it, pulled it out of him. 

“Look, the bet is still on unless you want to give up. But I think you’ll be losing anyway, because I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve.” Jeno stood up, and walked away. 

Jaemin knew exactly what he was going to do, he could read it off Jeno’s face. 

He just feared y/n was going to fall for it.

———

POV - y/n

———

There was no Renjun that morning with your coffee; he probably stayed up all night to improve his Mario Kart skills. Instead, there was Lila.

You walked to school together. She seemed to glow (more than usual) and a smile was plastered on her face. She normally hated mornings, and could barely drag herself out of bed, but this morning she was practically skipping to school And let’s just say, she hated school even more.

“Any reason why you’re so happy this morning?” 

The smile disappeared in seconds, as she began to glance at the floor, “Uhh, uh-em no, nope.”

You left it at that. She clearly didn’t want to tell you, but when she was ready, she would.

‘At least she’s happy’

You arrived at school earlier than usual, but there was still a good few people in. You parted ways with Lila as you entered your classroom. You looked up to see Jeno at your desk, reading a new book. You nearly halted, for Jeno was never in this early. You had expected to come in and get some work done alone, but with Jeno there it might be a bit difficult. Not because he would talk, but because your eyes would constantly feel the need to look at him, at his perfectly carved features.

You tiptoed over as to not disturb him, but he looked up regardless. 

“Jeno,” you laughed awkwardly, “what’re you doing here so early?”

“Y/n hey,” and he smiled that irritatingly perfect smile, “Just to read.”

“So early?”

“It’s just quieter here.” he chuckled softly. 

You took your seat and pulled out some Biology books. Putting in your earphones as you opened your notes copy. Music made studying a lot easier. The sun began to shine inside the classroom, and finally your heart was at peace. With Jaemin and now Jeno being so confusing (as well as your own heart), it was hard to relax, hard to stop thinking. But studying was always a way for you to forget, to ignore your problems. 

A while passed, until Jeno pulled out one of your earphones. The corners of his mouth upturned into a charming smile, his eyes crinkled.

“I forgot to ask you something.” 

But that smile was soon replaced with that same expression he held in the dark, at the party. Something clouded his raven eyes, his smile turning into a smirk. Whatever had changed him made you feel uneasy. The usual ache grew in your stomach, dragging your heart down with it.

His eyes snagged on your lips. The room began to darken, as well as his face. He spoke again, his words charged with confidence, voice trapped in appeal, husky and deep.

“Care to go on a date with me, y/n? But I’ll warn you, I don’t take no for an answer.”

_____________________________________

See you next time -> Thursday 31st xx

-------

A/N>> hope you liked it!! Are you ready to hear y/n’s reply?? Or see what Jaemin does next? Stay tuned for Thursday!!

_____________________________________

[yamisnuffles]

Get Closer To Me

Finally finished- the bus ride from Tadfield, followed by some angst, fluff, and prophecy back at Crowley’s flat.

Read on AO3

- - - - -

Crowley had spent Earth’s final day holding off his exhaustion because he’d had to. There wasn’t time to be tired when the forces of hell were after him. No time when he had to mourn and even less when he found Aziraphale was back and so the world still needed saving. Such a deficit of time when it all came crashing down that he literally had to bring it all to a stop to buy them a final moment to prepare.

After all that, it had been a relief to fall onto a bench alongside Aziraphale. He didn’t have to keep running like it was the end of the world because, finally, it wasn’t. It was over. Despite all odds, they’d survived. Together. He could have sat there forever, just passing that bottle of wine back and forth between them. It had been more difficult than he cared to admit to get off of that bench and onto his feet once more so that he could get on the bus to Oxford that would take them to London. He all but collapsed into a seat near the front.

Before he could so much as think of sprawling out to sleep, Aziraphale made to sit beside him. Not only that, but Aziraphale put a hand on top of the one Crowley had used to lower himself into his seat. The angel kept hold of that hand as he sat down. Aziraphale didn’t even look over, just held Crowley’s hand like it was nothing at all and that he hadn’t been the one protesting sides moments ago. He held on like it was natural, like they’d been doing it for ages. Crowley tried to at least appear to feel the same way about it even as it made something in his gut do an odd flip. He was thankful to have glasses that obscured the way he stared disbelieving from the corner of his eye as he pretended to look forward.

Their own side. He’d said it himself and yet he could hardly believe the angel was going to ride the whole way back next to him instead of ahead or behind. Crowley blinked to be sure it was all real, only for his eyelids to suddenly feel heavy and impossible to open again. He wasn’t aware of falling asleep. Seeing as he didn’t strictly need to sleep, it generally took some work. He’d gotten very good at it over the millenia, the very best if you asked him, but he usually had to make some conscious effort. He must have been more exhausted than he’d guessed because the last thing he remembered, they’d been rolling out of Tadfield and now the bright lights of the city crowded in him. Too bright. He stared at the lights blearily, trying to make sense of them.

“Sorry to wake you, my dear, but we’re nearly there.”

“Mmhmm, wuh?”

Crowley felt like he’d swallowed cotton that had left his tongue thick and dry, and had somehow moved up to muzzy his brain. If he was too tired to remember falling asleep in the first place, he really wasn’t ready for the fact that there was a light pressure on his thigh, that it was what had awoken him, and certainly not that it came from Aziraphale’s hand. He’d thought he’d dreamed up the hand holding, to be quite honest. It wouldn’t be the first time. He blinked over at it once. Twice. By the third that information had finally made its way through his brain and it was all he could do not to bolt upright in surprise.

It wasn’t just that Aziraphale had a hand on his leg- although that alone was far too large a concept for a word like just- it was that Aziraphale had slid his hand under Crowley’s own and that the thigh on which it rested was pressed carelessly against the angel’s leg. Crowley felt as though the skin at those points of contact might catch fire at any moment. It blossomed like a newborn star, spread to his blood, his skin, his bones. He could feel the heat of it crawling up his neck and threatening to creep beyond his collar where it might be spotted.

Crowley might have officially cut ties with hell but that didn’t mean he was no longer a demon with appearances to keep up. He had some dignity, no matter how easy that was to forget whenever Aziraphale was near. He broke contact under the ruse of a long, languorous stretch. When it was done, his traitorous limbs had been pulled back out of enemy territory and solidly within the confines of his own seat.

“Where are my-?” He gestured vaguely at his face, having finally woken up enough to realize why the lights seemed so bright.

Aziraphale perked up. Pink dusted his round cheeks. “Oh.” He patted himself down, then pulled Crowley’s sunglasses from an inner coat pocket and handed them over. “I thought they might be uncomfortable, what with your face pressed to the window and all.”

Crowley’s traitorous mind instantly supplied him with the image of Aziraphale bending over his sleeping form to delicately remove the sunglasses. It was all the easier to imagine with the ghost of Aziraphale’s scent clinging to errant spectacles. He swallowed hard and took the glasses back, happy to have them hide his features again. “Sorry I fell asleep on you, angel.”

“Think nothing of it. I had a lot to consider,” Aziraphale replied, holding the scrap of prophecy aloft.

“Still, don’t usually just drop off like that.”

“You were very tired. And I might have, ah-”

Crowley’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. His wide lips quirked up in disbelief. “You knocked me out.”

“Nothing so crude. Not even a miracle, really.” Aziraphale wriggled guiltily in his seat. “Just a nudge to help you along. A small push in the direction you were already headed.”

Crowley flicked down to the bit of paper in the angel’s hand. “You just wanted to read in peace.”

“Well…”

Crowley laughed and gave the angel an affectionate smile. “Bastard.”

Aziraphale tried to feign offence but the soft curl of his lips gave him away. He was saved from having to defend himself more vigorously by the sudden lurching stop of the bus. He pocketed the prophecy and stood to gesture Crowley on.

“I suppose this is our stop.”

Well, that would do it. Crowley would have to hope the dark of night was enough to hide the blush because he absolutely couldn’t stop it jumping up his neck when Aziraphale called Crowley’s building their stop. Sure, he’d invited the angel over but if he was any good at planning ahead he wouldn’t have been left pulling a plan out of his ass when the end times finally rolled around. So there he was with Aziraphale waiting for him to lead them both up to his flat and all he could do was nod his head and mumble something unintelligible as they got off the bus.

Crowley immediately chose to go up the stairs. As tired as he still was, it offered him the most time to collect himself before they made it to his flat. It wasn’t enough. Before he knew it, they were both at the front door. Aziraphale loitered, waiting to be let in, a courtesy Crowley rarely granted when they went to the bookshop. From the rosy hues that dusted the angel’s cheeks and the way he fidgeted with the buttons on his waistcoat, it was clear he was apprehensive to cross this final barrier. Crowley was as well. He wished he’d locked up to buy himself a another moment or two. Unfortunately for him, there had been more pressing matters to consider when he’d left, like Armageddon and the fact that Aziraphale wasn’t answering his phone. To make matters worse, locking up wasn’t the only thing he’d forgotten in his rush out.

“Oh.”

That single soft sound from Aziraphale was all it took to make guilt churn in Crowley’s stomach. One, solitary syllable brought forth an argument from over a century and a half ago, it brought reconciliation and a bombed church, and summoned ‘You go too fast.’ Crowley did his best not to sway under the weight of it all. He wished he’d remembered the puddle of demon soup he’d left in the entryway. Not that there was much he could have done about it either way, but he’d have figured something out to spare himself the way Aziraphale was staring at it now.

“It’s nothing,” he assured, all swagger and shrugs.

He moved to step around the sodden rags that had once been Ligur to show just how much of nothing it was but was stopped by a vice like grip on his arm. There was a cold fire in Aziraphale’s eyes as he strode decisively in front of Crowley. It was times like this that Crowley remembered Aziraphale had been one of the guardians of Eden. He stayed back now, not moving an inch from where the angel had firmly placed him, but he’d dared approach then. Had he hoped to be smited that day when he'd first crawled up the wall and all but bragged about what he'd just done? Might as well have for as hard and fast as he fell after the angel's mumbled admission of guilt about the flaming sword.

Aziraphale banished the holy water from the doorway with a sharp, decisive gesture. When he walked into the office, Crowley drifted in after him, drawn as helpless as ever into the angel’s wake. Aziraphale wandered ponderously about the room. He paused briefly to consider the exploded remnants of the plant mister and then cleared it away with another wave of his hand. Crowley couldn’t help but wince when Aziraphale stopped at the desk. He ran considering fingers over the rubber gloves, the metal tongs, and, finally, the opened thermos.

“You told me the forces of hell had figured you out. I didn’t even stop to think what that meant for you.” Aziraphale’s voice came out soft, wavering, and raw. He was so quiet that Crowley only heard because absolutely every bit of him was bent on it. Aziraphale picked up the thermos lid and turned it thoughtfully in his hands. He tried to screw the cap back on but his hands were shaking too much. He abandoned the attempt and turned to Crowley instead, eyes watery and wide with sorrow. “Oh, Crowley. You begged me to come with you and I didn’t even consider why you were so desperate.”

Begged. Desperate. Both perfectly true but the words still stung at Crowley’s pride. He tried to speak only to find his throat was too tight from seeing Aziraphale so overcome on his behalf. He grunted out a dismissive noise instead. He tried to take the thermos to put it out of sight so that it would stop tormenting the both of them but Aziraphale snatched it up.

“Angel, come on now. You’re being ridiculous. It’s empty and it’s not like I haven’t handled it even when it wasn’t.”

Aziraphale held the thermos to himself. He looked down at it with a slight tremble in his lip. “I told  you not to unscrew the cap,” he said, his voice light as he tried to force a bit of levity only to fall short.

“Insurance finally came due.”

No reason for the angel to know that wasn’t the only time the thermos had been opened. Nor was there cause for him to know just how often it had been handled, stared at, pondered, yelled at, and agonized over through the years. No, for all Aziraphale need be concerned, Crowley had taken it straight home that night, locked it up, and never thought of it again until he needed it.

“You could have been destroyed. If anything had gone wrong-”

Crowley took a slow step forward with his hands up, placating. Gentle, gentle, gentle. He could be gentle for Aziraphale. He could be anything. “But nothing did. I was careful. Told you, it wasn’t for me. Never was. And now it’s gone. It’s over, so you don’t have to worry any longer.”

He took another step toward Aziraphale that only caused the angel to pull the thermos closer. Crowley was nonetheless able to pull it gently from his grasp. He carefully screwed the cap back on and crossed the room to place it back in the safe, even though there really was no reason to keep it now that it had fulfilled its purpose. Still, there was no way he was just going to toss it after all this time. It had saved his life. More importantly, it had been a gift from Aziraphale, the most cherished and tortuous one he’d ever received. 

When he finished locking it away, he found that Aziraphale had left the office. A flash of soft tan and cream showed that he was now milling around the plants. Leaves trembled, unsure what to make of the stranger in their midst. They’d gone so many decades without visitors and suddenly there were multiple in a day. Tension of a different sort from earlier was thick in the air. Some of the plants cowered under it and some strained to be nearer Aziraphale. Crowley threw his sunglasses aside so that he could give the vegetation a warning glare to behave.

“I had no idea you gardened,” Aziraphale commented in distant tones that said his mind was elsewhere. “It would appear you have quite the green thumb. How lovely they all are.”

Crowley was quick to wave off the compliment. “Don’t let them hear you say that. They’ll get ideas.”

Too late. One particularly cheeky palm dared extend a frond toward Aziraphale, who stroked it fondly. Crowley wasn’t sure whether he was envious of how bold the plant was or jealous of the affection it got as a result. Both, he decided. He curled his lips in a threatening, silent hiss that caused the offending palm to shrink back into place.

Crowley expected a reprimand of some sort for terrorizing his plants. It wasn’t like Aziraphale to pass up a good opportunity to chide Crowley when he thought the demon was being particularly mean spirited or petty. Instead, the angel didn’t seem to have even noticed. When he turned around, he looked a million miles away. Aziraphale’s watery eyes danced over things that weren’t really there, examined an alternate world of what-ifs, full of pain and the irreparable loss of a friend. Crowley knew the look because he’d worn it himself, had seen it reflected back at him in the Bentley’s mirrors before he’d hidden away under a fresh pair of sunglasses.

“I should have come with you,” Aziraphale said, snapping back to this world. His blue eyes lifted to meet gold.

“Nah,” Crowley replied, surprised he could even manage so small a reply with as tight as his throat currently was. “Alpha Centauri would have been- I mean, probably you’d have been miserable. No food. No books. And where would the humans have been without us in the end?”

“Things might, oh I don’t know, they might have been better somehow.” Aziraphale looked at the toe of his shoes and then back up again. “I lied to you. I knew where to go. I’d known and I told you I didn’t because I was certain someone on my side would see reason.”

It hurt Crowley to have confirmation that Aziraphale had lied. He’d suspected- there were too many notes stuffed into Agnes Nutter’s book for that to have all come last minute- but it was one thing to suspect and another to hear straight from the source. He wondered just how long Aziraphale had known and kept it from him. But no, he couldn’t let himself go down that road. That way lay madness and questioning and far too many years of feeling low and unworthy. Usually it was his own self doubt that told him Aziraphale would always choose heaven over him. It was a wound that had long since become a scar. Somehow he’d forgotten how much more it hurt to have Aziraphale holding the knife that opened it back up.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said and that was the truth. It absolutely did not matter in the face of everything else.

“Of course it matters. I treated you abominably. I was stupid. You were right, I was so stupid,” Aziraphale argued, determined to be in the wrong. To find absolution or condemnation, anything that would make up for what he’d done. His face crumpled. A few of the tears he’d been holding back escaped to round the flushed curve of his cheeks. “I could have lost you forever and for what?”

And that, right there, was why something as little as lies didn’t matter to Crowley. Not after the bookstore. Not after he’d reached out and felt nothing, when the only thing he’d been certain of was that the world was over for him. Without Aziraphale in it, it was all ash.

“You are stupid,” he said flatly and Aziraphale flinched. One of Crowley’s hands raised to touch him, to comfort him, but the motion was aborted nearly as soon as it had begun. Aziraphale was so close. If Crowley closed that gap further still, he’d never manage to say what he needed to. “You’re stupid because you think anything would keep me from you. That was what the holy water was all about. No one was gonna take me from you, not even if hell came knocking.  Which it did and…” Crowley was losing his train of thought. All he could think of was too much fire in a too empty bookshop. Even with Aziraphale right in front of him, he could feel the loss like a tangible thing. “You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever. Not after-”

Crowley choked on a sob, refusing to let it escape his throat. He’d lost heaven long ago. Hell had followed after a lifetime of straining at their bonds. And then, in that moment in the bookshop, he’d lost Aziraphale as well. He’d been all out of sides, lost and alone. He'd pulled himself together to save the world- to go to Aziraphale- but it had been a rush job, not properly done, and now it gave way under all the pressure. Something had broken in him in the bookshop and it snapped apart once more. Suddenly. Painfully. 

“Aziraphale,” he croaked despite himself in the same broken tones of hours prior. “You were gone.”

But he wasn’t. Aziraphale hadn’t been destroyed. The angel was there in Crowley’s flat, so close already and moving closer. He was near enough that Crowley could see his throat bob nervously.

“Crowley…”

Aziraphale had the look of someone on a precipice, ready to jump but unsure if he wanted to. It was a look Crowley had seen on the angel’s face often enough, more in the last eleven years when he’d been given world changing decision after world changing decision. A fair number of times, if not every time, Crowley had been the one to nudge him into place- suggesting the Arrangement, teaming up to avert the apocalypse, and offering to run away together. Crowley had the distinct feeling he’d also caused this latest crisis of faith, but he didn’t have any idea what he’d done nor what Aziraphale was preparing to leap for.

The little line of consternation that had formed between the angel’s brows vanished the moment a decision was reached. “I think, well, there is something I would very much like to do. Something I’ve wanted to do for a rather long time now.” He reached up and caught Crowley by his collar, gently smoothing the lapels. “I’ll be damned if I waste another moment fretting about what I ought to do.”

Crowley felt that wasn’t the sort of thing he should leave without a clever retort. However, being clever required the use of your brain, something he didn’t entirely have at the moment. He was captivated by the set of immaculate hands on his chest. There wasn’t a single wrinkle to smooth. In a day of overextending himself, he’d wasted a miracle to clean himself up as they left the airfield, eager to be free of all the grime and the memories attached to it. He was spotless and Aziraphale had to see that, had to know there was no real excuse for being so close other than because he wanted to be.

Aziraphale remained, regardless, his fingers fussing with fabric and his body close enough that Crowley swore he could feel the heat of him. Something deep in his bones ached to move closer to it. He swallowed hard. His heart fluttered wildly. Fluttering really wasn’t a properly demonic thing for any part of him to do. He could just stop it, do away with all these unnecessary human reactions- like the sudden sweat on his palms or weakness in his legs- but there was something heady and intoxicating about it.

Aziraphale used his grip on the demon’s jacket to pull himself slowly closer. Crowley’s eyes flew wide as Aziraphale’s were hooded by heavy lids. Aziraphale’s lips parted slightly. The same part of Crowley’s mind that told him what was coming also screamed at him to do something about it- move forward, relax, do anything other than stare wide eyed and open mouthed like a dying fish. He only just managed to recollect himself when Aziraphale drew upward to close the last few inches that kept them apart.

It was the barest brush of lips. Thousands upon thousands of years had been spent building a wall, only for it to be shattered by that simple, featherlight connection. Crowley was too busy marvelling at it to reciprocate so it was over before it had really begun. Aziraphale rocked back onto his heels, his hands still on Crowley’s collar, and offered a fluttering, unsure smile.

There was ash on Crowley’s tongue. Whether there truly was or not, it was suddenly all he could taste. He surged forward and banished the gap between them once more. 

Crowley prided himself in his imagination. It wasn’t the sort of thing a demon was supposed to have but you didn’t create stars and then forget that bright, bold spark inside. He’d made good use of it over the ages with no subject a more frequent visitor to his dreams than a certain angel. But no matter how good his imagination was, it didn’t compare to the reality of kissing Aziraphale.

When Aziraphale didn’t immediately pull away, Crowley put his hands on the soft edges of the angel’s jawline and pressed in further. Aziraphale’s lips were plush and pliant. When Crowley had gotten his fill of them, he let his tongue flick out, testing. He was too happy to be embarrassed by the breathy whine that escaped his mouth when he dared taste celestial lips. How could there be time for something like embarrassment when, in the next moment, Aziraphale let out a whimper of his own and opened his mouth to allow Crowley entry.

The part of Crowley that remained forever cold and coiled and ready to strike unspooled. This was… divine. Literally. It should have burnt him and reduced him to nothing. Instead, it was everything, made him everything. Pressed as close as they were, he could feel hearts crash against mortal frames not big enough to hold immortal love. It filled the void that had been deep inside him since his Fall, a void that came rushing back when Aziraphale released him.

Aziraphale placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, that...”

“Yeah, that,” Crowley replied inelegantly. 

He felt weak in the knees and he couldn’t decide if it was Aziraphale, his exhaustion, or some combination of the above. It hardly mattered when he felt like he could float.

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, not that. Well, yes. That was-” He gave the bare, bright smile he reserved just for Crowley when the demon had done something for him. He dipped his chin as though he could do anything to hide the brilliance of it. “But what I mean is, that gave me an idea. I think I’ve figured out the prophecy.”

Crowley’s brows raised. He couldn’t help the teasing twist of his mouth despite the continued fluttering of his heart. “One hell of a kiss,” he said dryly.

“Quite.” Aziraphale glanced in either direction. His eyes narrowed and then widened when they settled on a familiar avian lectern. “Is that-?”

“What’re you looking for, angel?” Crowley asked, cutting off that line of questioning before it could begin.

“I don’t suppose you have a kitchen or anything of the sort in this cavern of yours?”

“Sure.” Crowley cast a curious glance over at Aziraphale as he lead the way. “What kind of solution have you come up with that requires a kitchen?” 

“It won’t. I was just hoping for a nibble. It’s been a long day,” the angel answered and Crowley couldn’t help but snort in fond amusement. “And, no offense dear boy, but you look dead on your feet. I thought some tea might help you perk up.”

Crowley quickly miracled everything and anything into his cupboards that he thought Aziraphale might desire. A kettle was already warming when they entered the kitchen. Crowley leaned against the counter and shoved his hands into his pockets as best he could.

“So, what’s this plan of yours?”

“I’ll explain in a moment,” Aziraphale replied, drawing near. He wrapped one hand around the back of Crowley’s neck. “First, I think some more inspiration is in order.”

[bubblepop-32]

If Bruce was De-aged and the only one who could make him stop screaming is Jason.

Bruce gets de-aged, but his memories aren’t as young (but not as old) as what they’re supposed to be. And he desperately needs Jason.

I wanted to read de-aged Bruce with our man Jay but I literally can’t find any ;A; So I sacrificed sleep and wrote this. 

There’s going to be good ol’ fluff and bonding between Jason and small Bruce, but there’s also going to be angst. And swearing (mostly from Jay)

Read me already? Here’s >> Part 2 <<

~~~

Jason tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a position comfortable enough to drag him off to sleep. After three more minutes of practically doing aerobics in bed, he decides that this was not going to get him anywhere and that he shouldn’t be wasting time trying to get some shut-eye but more rather do something more productive.

Like what? Go fucking apologise to Bruce to make Boy Wonder happy? Fat chance. It’s three am in the morning and even though Bruce will probably still be awake, he wasn’t going to just voluntarily visit the manor.

Jason pressed a palm to his forehead and groaned in annoyance. Everything was going so well. He hadn’t killed in a month (and he actually tried, really hard), he hadn’t thrown something across the room the instant Bruce entered, and he even managed to stay for a family dinner.

He’s even admitted to himself, secretly, whilst he was beat ass drunk, that maybe, deep down, he wanted to go back to the family. And he hated the thought and the emotional baggage that came with it.

He’s trying to ‘forgive and forget’ but it's not easy when the Replacement is there, when he’s the exact reminder of what he had been through and all the shit that had gone down between him and Bruce. Dick’s told him that it isn’t ‘fair’ that he blames Drake, for practically everything. Oh if only Dick knew that all this wasn’t ‘fair’ from the beginning. If only he knew the bitterness that stabbed him when he saw Bruce smiling with the Replacement, putting all the hopes and expectations that was once put onto him being placed on someone else.

Now that Bruce has robins to keep him sane, what had Jason become to him? Right, Jason was a walking talking nightmare that reminds Bruce of his failure, his mistakes.

And then just the night before, Batman and Red Hood had gone on a patrol, together along with Nightwing. They busted a drug and arms trade between two gangs. It was all going smoothly until Jason discovers five children shackled to a steel bar behind the main room in which the dealing took place.

They were quivering in fear and delirious from hunger and thirst, but what really made Jason snap was the fact that gang members that managed to dodge Batman and Nightwing barged into the room to kill them off since the deal was off and keeping them alive would be a fucking waste of effort.

Five bullets instantly buried themselves into the first man that came in, one in each kneecap as well as shoulder, with the final one burying itself in the man’s stomach. One for each of the kids that they left to die without them even needing to kill them. The second man that rushed in got a fist to the cheek and a knee to the nose, then a series of punches to his face. All Jason remembers was one huge blur with a cacophony of screams in the background, but he doesn’t know if it’s the gang member’s, the children’s, his, Dick’s or Bruce’s. Maybe it was all of them.

The next thing he does remember is Batman dragging him forcefully away from an unresponsive body. Oh, but Jason did not go quietly. He struggled against the arms that restrained him. He wanted to get his fists back into the man’s mangled face, to get his fists into all the gang members’ faces.

There was shouting, alright. Nasty comments were hit from Jason to Bruce like a match of tennis, and Dick ended up with a deep cut to his jaw whilst trying to get the two apart.

Jason doubts that he’ll be able to set foot back in the manor soon after what transpired that night. Jason doesn't even know why Dick still insists that he and Bruce make up, even when it’s clear that Jason had crossed a line when he gave Dick the deep gash to the jaw. So when Bruce had growled at Jason to leave, he did. Something dark and bitter overcame him as he walked out of the room, and the bubbling wreckage of hatred within him grew.

Taking a dunk in the pit had done its numbers on Jason, and anger was the emotion he chose to use to deal with the bitterness within him.

Jason pulled the blanket off of him and sat up on his bed. The sliver of moonlight cut through the darkness and landed on his small fringe of white hair. It glowed softly in the dark as the light bounced off. The white hair is a scar left on him after healing from death. A souvenir from his trip from beyond and back.

So when his phone started ringing at three am in the morning, he and his heart literally jumped.

“Fucking hell!” Jason grabbed his phone with haste as his loud ass ringtone was not helping his heart slow down from the initial shock. His first thought was to press the big, enticing red button, but the fact that it was Dick who was calling made him hesitate. “There better be a good reason for this,” Jason grumbled as he pressed the green instead.

“What do want-”

“Jason? That you?” Yep, it was definitely Dick. “You actually picked up, oh my god I was hoping you that you were and you really did.” His voice sounded far from sleepy, rather he sounded like he has been awake for two days straight. It was a little rough and a little slurred together but it was also probably due to how fast he was speaking.

“If you were seeing if I would pick up then I’m hanging the hell up.” Jason expected something of a smart remark from Dick, like ‘aren’t you going to ask how my cut is because I’m looking pretty sharp right now,’ or some weird shit like that if Dick’s sleep deprived because he says some weird things when he’s loopy from not sleeping.

“No! Jay! Please just, just hear me out before you leave. It’s…It’s urgent.” The last words came across the phone as being slightly breathless. There was bated silence as Dick waited for Jason’s reply.

“Fine. Shoot.” Jason answered, and he heard Dick sigh with relief.

“It’s just, after what happened the night before, B’s been on edge ever since. He barricaded himself inside his office, and well, I thought he was going to be in there for a while, but he actually came out of it earlier tonight.” Dick explains.

“And you want me to come over and talk with the fucking brick wall?” Jason growled. Answering the phone really was a bad idea. “He doesn’t listen and I’m tired of being the only one who’s doing all the trying!”

“That’s not what I was talking about Jay. It’s…it’s not that.” There it is again, the same breathless whisper of a voice that is most definitely hiding something.

“Then what? I’m hanging up.” Jason pulled the phone away from his ear when there was suddenly a muffled, high pitched scream from the other side. Jason immediately pressed the phone back to his ear.

It was a scream of agony, of loss, a scream Jason himself is so akin to. It’s as if something had been torn away from someone, and they were yelling their lungs out and their throats raw. There was this desperation within the ear-piercing wail, as if seeking for someone to help.

And it was a scream of a kid too.

After that, he couldn’t hear much more. Either Dick dropped his phone onto something face down or he pocketed it because all he could hear was the very muffled a soft and pleading voice, which is most definitely Dick’s. But the screaming didn’t die down though. Instead, now, the kid was screaming something, a word, a couple words which Jason couldn’t discern either.

There was a moment when it was just the rustle of fabric before Dick started talking again, but now with less vigour and rawer, unpolished emotion.

“Jason? Jay?” Dick called, anxious for a reply.

“What in the world was that?” Jason’s tone was serious. He was suddenly unsure why Dick was calling him out of everyone else he could’ve called in order to deal with a screaming kid. If it wasn’t about trying to get him to speak to Bruce, then he really can’t think of anything else.

Something in Dick, at that moment, must have broken because the next words that came out of him were so simple and plain and simply lethargic. But it shook Jason to the core.

“That…” Dick whispers, almost inaudibly, “that was Bruce.”

Jason didn't know what to think.

“Something went wrong during tonight’s patrol and he was hit by something.” Dick supplied, but Jason still didn’t understand.

Jason stared at the small sliver of the moon that was visible behind his curtains. He felt as if he was spacing out.

“When he came out of that office, he looked like an empty person, Jay. Neither Alf nor I knew why he came out then, or what was going on in his head, but I’m pretty sure Alf had a better than I did. I suggested that I take over the patrols tonight and that he should rest, but of course, he didn’t listen.” Dick paused, and Jason still did not know what to say. “…You still there?”

Jason swallowed and found it extremely hard. “Yeah.” He answers but it sounded smaller than what he wanted it to be.

“And the ways he did things tonight, it was as if…as if you were, well, gone, all over again. He didn't think before he jumped, he didn't even consider different courses of action to safely capture the rogue villain-wannabe. He got hit by a huge pulsating flash of something and-and he’s been de-aged to being a child around the age of ten.”

Jason found this experience very odd. Nothing that he’s heard from Dick so far has properly sunk in and processed.

“But something’s wrong. B’s memories don’t match his age. He remembers things that he wouldn’t have known if he was ten…like about him being Batman. The guy responsible doesn’t even know what he did and the machine he made shattered when he fired the thing.” Dick sounded like he was on the verge of screaming too, but at the villain-wannabe who put Dick through whatever predicament he had gone through before he called Jason.

Everything was slowly starting to make sense to Jason now and he has sort of an idea about why Dick was calling him and not Cass who would love to see a de-aged Bruce. And he’s not really sure he likes the reason. Old Bruce or young Bruce, he just didn’t want to be near that man.

“…You’re being oddly quiet, you know.” Dick murmurs through the line.

“Duh, Dickhead I’m trying to listen. Go on.” It didn’t come out as snappy as he wanted it to be. In fact, it was pale in comparison to what usually came out of him.

“His ten-year-old self isn’t ready for all the shit he’s been through all the way until now…It’s shredding him apart, and I can’t do anything about it! Just imagine a small plastic bucket and trying to pour in a large hot tub of melting tar into it. Whatever is holding the melted tar was made for it, much like how the B now is able to deal with his emotions by shoving them under the rug, but, pouring the tar into the plastic bucket would overflow and break it.” Dick drew in a shaky breath.

Trust Dick to put his words into an analogy. Jason doesn’t know if it helped or not, but the imagery of burning and melting plastic wasn’t something he would associate with B. “Bruce…he’s only something like ten years old, but he remembers me and Alf, but nothing at all about Tim and Damian.”

Jason realised that his heart rate was picking up again.

“You’re the only one who can help him, Jay. He remembers you.”

“But so what? He’ll remember me as the kid who gave him all the trouble he never asked for. What do I have to do with all this? You’re clearly B’s No 1 golden child. If you can’t do anything for him then there’s no chance I’ll be able to do anything better.” Hopefully, Dick couldn’t tell that Jason was slightly panicking, because he’s starting to. “If you remember, I make things worse, not better.”

“Jay, this is different! B needs you. It’s because he precisely remembers you that you’re the one that can calm him down.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, his head’s too stuck up his ass to say that he needs me!” Jason’s voice rumbled as he spat that sentence out. What’s so different this time?

If B remembers him and Dick but not Replacement and Demon spawn, then, oh shit. If Dick’s analogy rings true…

“What exactly does he remember?” Jason commanded Dick to tell him. All along, he’s been avoiding that one topic throughout his explanation.

There was a moment of hesitation. Jason could see Dick struggling with himself, whether or not he wanted to say it or not.

“When you were Robin. He remembers you dying.”

Dick must’ve said the last word too loudly because the instant he said it the screaming began all over again. This time Jason heard loud and clear what kid Bruce was screaming.

It was his name, twisted in blood and anguish. It sent goosebumps down his neck. Jason realised that he didn’t have a choice in whether he was going to the manor or not. Especially when his name was being called and called over and over again in such excruciation and desperation.

I’ll probs post the next part sometime ;)

...and here it is: >> Part 2 << 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: With Brotherly LV (baon)

Summary: Edge's LV is troubling him. Red helps, if you can call anything Red does helping.

Notes:  I do love Edge and Red's relationship, all tension strained over caring. Bad, bad, Fellboys, who honestly love each other. They just have a funny way of showing it.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Angst, Violence, LV Issues, Mentions of an Unknown Monster Dusting, Brotherly Bonding

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

For the first brief moment that marrow hits snow, it steams, body-warm and bright against the whiteness, splattering like a splayed hand. His brother is speaking but he can’t hear the words because someone is screaming and he can’t see why. He can’t see through the crimson filling his sockets, not magic but blinding fluid, he’s bleeding, his brother is bleeding, and someone is screaming.

He's screaming.

Screaming as it settles into his soul, like swallowing a hot coal, burning inside him as the Monster at his feet collapsed into dust—

Edge woke with the phantom taste of dust in his mouth. His soul was throbbing, agitated, the LV within it burning. He rolled to his side on the sweat-dampened sheets, curling up in a vain attempt to tamp it down.

Mostly it didn’t trouble him, not so often as it had in the past. In Underfell, the low throb had never quite stopped, numbness shadowed in aching heat. These days, he didn’t often even think about it.

But tonight, with the memory of dust fresh in his mind, it pulsed sharply. Like clawed fingers digging into his soul, gouging out fiery strips. He tried to breathe through it, focused on control with a slippery grip, refusing to allow it freedom.

It resisted. He couldn’t silence it, like a voice of its own, those oily phantom whispers that spoke of violence, coaxing slyly through the underside of his thoughts.

Behind him, oblivious to his struggle, Stretch slept on, even snoring faintly. Exhausted probably from spending the day walking around at the fair and if he woke now, would he know, would he understand—

(liar, he was a liar, hiding things, wasn’t he, begging for forgiveness instead of honesty, lies, how many lies)

No.

As carefully as he could, Edge slipped out of bed, almost stumbling to the closet. He snatched some clothes without looking at them and went downstairs, carefully skipping the creaky third step. In the darkened living room, he dressed quickly, grabbing his keys and wallet and shoving his feet into a pair of shoes.

Even at this hour the air was humid and clinging, the temperatures only a little lower than it had been during the day. He kept the roof up on his car and turned the air conditioner to full blast.

The radio was off, and Edge kept his focus on the road, counting beneath his breath.

One, two, he was calm, breathing evenly, three, four, he was in control, not his LV, five six, calm. Calm. Calm calm calmcalmcalm—

The night guard at the Embassy entrance looked up at him curiously, but without alarm. Edge gave him a curt nod and swiped his badge. He went to the elevator the same one he went to every day, only now he pressed the button for the basement.

In the cooler lower levels was what were generally considered fitness rooms. Several held treadmills and weightlifting equipment, and a few had signup sheets for yoga classes or pilates. The rooms that interested Edge were at the very end of the hallway. Soundproof walls lined with thick mats, and along the back wall were rows of practice dummies, heavily enchanted to be capable of taking even vicious attacks.

He wasn’t the only Monster living with LV in New New Home, although his was higher than most he’d seen. There were others who had survived the war, not many but enough.

Asgore for one. Most probably assumed his LV was from that. A few knew otherwise.

Outside the door was a narrow set of lockers and Edge chose one, setting his keys and phone inside along with his shoes.

He was summoning his first attack before the door closed behind him.

A wave of jagged bones washed over the dummies, bouncing away and fading. He summoned another, a mesh of crimson and blue to bounce off the padded bodies, their blank faces holding no judgement.

He began to summon another, and the glimpse of a shadow made him pause, extinguishing the half-formed attack in a shower of sparks.

“always did have great control, boss. not doing you much good now though, is it. this shit's not gonna help if you can’t let go a little.”

“Go away,” Edge said curtly. A lazy chuckle answered that, and he turned to see his brother leaning against the closed door, hands tucked into his pockets.

“nah, think i’ll stay and watch. might be a good show.” He sucked loudly on his teeth and the smirk on his face made the burning in Edge’s LV soar. He lashed out, the bones fairly dripping with intent and Red was gone before he’d even completed the motion.

From behind, an attack sent Edge to his knees, knocking several points from his HP. He threw up a hasty defense and kept low, crouching and looking warily around but Red was not in sight.

“you missed, little brother.” That disembodied voice seemed to come from nowhere. Everywhere. “eh, but you were never as quick as me, were ya? s’why you have lv. me, i was always outta there before it could catch up.”

“I have LV because I protected us,” Edge snarled.

“sure you did, never said you didn’t.” His focused narrowed and he turned in time to see Red step sideways out of nowhere. “protectin’, that’s your gig.”

Edge flung out a hand towards him, channeling that rage into a narrow line of bones. Even through his blinding rage he knew the attack would never land, but watching his brother lazily sidestep it only fanned the flames in his soul.

“that what has you up tonight?” Red cocked his head to the side. “throwin' a tantrum because you didn’t get to ‘protect’ your liabilities.”

“You lied to me.” Lies, lies, lies.

“have to do better than that, bro, i always lie to you. which one has your panties in a twist tonight.” His sockets narrowed, his teeth parting in a silent ‘ah’. “we’re talking about the honey bun, aren’t we. confessin' his sins while you were praying to the porcelain god. dunno if you can call that a lie, little brother, we never said a word.”

It was true and it was all the more infuriating for it. “You knew! You knew and you helped him keep it from me!”

Red laughed, laughed, picking at his gold tooth with one needle-sharp fingertip. “helped? fuck, i told him to. didn’t want to listen to you cry and bitch about it so—“

He vanished before the bones could strike him, his voice carrying again from behind. “yeah, you go ahead, little bro.”

Edge spun around and Red’s eye lights were glittering with the sardonic amusement he knew all too well. “be pissed at me, i can take it. you’ve been having a hard time with all your pets lately, haven’t ya.”

“Shut up!”

“nah, don’t think i will. stretch losing hp and you didn’t even notice. andy gettin' himself stabbed and bleeding out on the sidewalk.”

“Stop it!” The bones he hurled jammed into the wall, tearing raggedly through the padding into the plaster beneath it, sending a scattering of drywall to the floor and his soul was throbbing.

“no. cause see, none of that was your fault. the honey bun getting sick, the kid gettin' stabbed. i saw the recordings, you know. kid ran ahead and none of ya had any reason to think those assholes would hurt another human. even if you’d sensed their intent you were too far away to stop it. for the kid, anyway. you weren’t watchin' him so close, but i’d bet my ass by the time stretch got to ‘em, you would have been paying attention.”

“I am going to tear your head off!”

“catch me first. yeah, that’s what has you pent up, ain’t it. thinkin' about the honey bun getting dusted on your watch.”

He swung towards that voice—and directly into a row of bones, knocking him clean off his feet to the floor. He was up in an instant, shaking off the HP drain, only to roll hastily away from another attack. Another, another, coming at him relentlessly from every angle and even his endurance could only carry him for so long.

Eventually, he raised a hand to concede, unable to voice it as he sagged to the padded floor, gasping for breath.

A dirty pair of red sneakers stepped into view. Edge kept his eye light on them, refusing to look up into his brother’s smirking face. A useless defiance, Red only crouched next to him, head cocked as he asked with mocking solicitousness, “feel better?”

“No,” Edge said sullenly. But he was the liar this time. That mean little voice was growing more distant by the second and the exhaustion leftover was satisfying in its own way.

Red only chuckled and sank down to sit cross-legged next to him. He ignored Edge’s scowl and pulled out a cigar, lighting a match with a sharp flick of his thumb.

The end kindled as he touched the flame to it, then shook it out. He took a long puff and that he didn’t blow the smoke directly into Edge’s face was likely Red’s version of kindness. That he nudged a toe rudely into Edge’s ribs simply meant his brother was himself.

“you just had to go get yourself another liability.”

The implication of that was enough for Edge to struggle up on his elbows, glaring at his brother as he sputtered, “It’s not like that!”

Red held up a hand and Edge grudgingly subsided. “nah, it’s not, i know that, not like it is with the honey bun which is good because picturin' your ocd ass trying to fuck a human is enough for me to scrub my skull out with bleach, thanks. think they’re a little too juicy for your tastes, bro.”

“Is there a point to this or are you trying to discover new ways to make me vomit?”

“never google yourself, you’d need a set of buckets.” Red murmured, then louder, “what i mean is, you like the kid. fuck, we all like the kid, you kiddin’. he’s just the type to dig right into our psyche and make hisself at home, ain’t he. the kind of trouble beggin' for someone to take care of him, fuck, you saw how fast blue snapped him up.”

“Blue was being practical,” Edge said, shortly. “Even I agreed he would be the best person to watch over Jeff while he recovers.”

The toes pressing against his ribs shifted, unerringly finding a sore place to push with vicious force until Edge grunted and shifted out of reach. “you’re in a piss-ass mood, bro. someone hurt your people and you can’t do much about it. it’s gonna rile your lv for a while, ain’t no question.”

“It’s wonderful that you feel qualified to lecture me about this with no LV of your own.”

“want me to hand you your ass again, kid?” Razor-edged warning that Red’s amusement was growing thin, and Edge knew from past experience that Red would. He was going to ache for days as it was, the threat of another round was enough for him to subside with a sullen glare.

Red sat as still as a gargoyle, his gaze measuring and finally he nodded slowly. “like i was sayin'. next time you need to blow off steam, gimmie a call. this ‘verse’s undyne can’t handle it and those dummies ain’t gonna be enough and you know it.”

“I can handle it.” I don’t want to hurt you.

“so can i.” you ain’t gonna, brat. won’t let ya.

Grudgingly, Edge nodded.

“great!” Red said cheerily. He slapped one knee and rolled to his feet with a groan, joints popping. “fuck, you gave me a good workout, paps.” He scratched his pelvis absently, then tossed out, “oh, and text the honey bun before he sends out a search party. he’s been blowin' up your phone for half an hour.”

Red was gone again before that registered and the moment it did, Edge cursed and hobbled out to check his phone.

He didn’t bother scrolling through the increasingly frantic texts, bypassing it for his contact list. It barely rang once before it picked up.

“babe?”

The relief in his voice cut and Edge closed his sockets. That coaxing whisper in his soul that tried to whisper grim defiance was easy to force back, muffled beneath the love that welled at the sound of Stretch’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, softly. He leaned against the wall, let his skull drop back against it with a thud. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“no, it’s okay. red called me.”

He knew, Edge realized. He knew why Edge left their bed in the middle of the night, knew that he was struggling to control the burn of LV in his soul.

Knew, and the only thing in his voice was gentle warmth, caring. He wasn’t disgusted, wasn’t horrified. Somehow, Stretch with his silver-pure soul believed he wasn’t worthy of Edge and he’d never understood that, never, not when he was the one whose soul was stained dark red with LV.

(liar, he lied)

No, not a liar. He’d kept a secret, yes, but he’d been worried, understandably frightened, and he’d apologized for it.

“I love you,” Edge told him hoarsely.

“i know, but i do like to hear it.” He could hear the creak of the mattress as Stretch moved and in his mind’s eye, weary as it was, he could see his husband curled up temptingly bare in the sheets. “look, you do what you need to and if you want anything from me—“

“I’ll be home soon.” What he wanted was to hold Stretch close and sleep with him in his arms. The only pulse in his soul now was a gentle one, eager to be close to him.

“good,” Stretch hesitated. “edge?” He was quiet for a long moment and then, “i love you.” It seemed like he was about to say something else, but he only added, “come home?”

“I’m on my way,” Edge assured him. He hung up, dropping his phone into his pocket and gathered his keys, stepping into his shoes. A glance around revealed no sign of Red, but Edge still murmured, “Thank you, brother.”

Then he walked back to the elevator. He was ready to go home.

-finis-