#she caught me off guard but i managed to screen cap

[sleeplesssmoll]

Desert Flannel Wilderness Interaction

Ignore my buildings phasing out of existence. My Wilderness is hell. I'll fix it again...someday.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

i am here thinking again. what could be the moment that price catches nikolai off-guard for once? surely even the smoothest men can be caught lacking, eh?

Nik has an allergic reaction to viagra and gives Price a small fright.

cw: allergic reaction, erectile dysfunction

"Nik, ah, Nik, stop."

Price shoved Nik's shoulders and tried to shuffle up the bed from beneath him. Something wasn't bloody right. Nik was mute, none of the usual guttural moans, or slurred Russian filth, delirious with pleasure. Nik was vocal. It was part of the fun and it got Price goin' like little else.

Hell, this was the first time they had fucked in months due to a range of different reasons, from clashing missions to meetings to Nik's schedule, and Price was expecting Nik to be ravenous. Instead, he seemed to be struggling; his brow creased, his eyes foggy.

Nik slumped to the side, propped on his elbow, his big chest heaving. "John, is there... was something wrong?"

"Yeah, you, I'm worried... Nik, look at me, oi, look at me." Price grabbed Nik's chin and lifted his head from where it was tilted forward. "Bloody 'ell, you don't look right. Think it was the resta--? Nik? Nik!"

Nik stumbled from the bed, almost tripping over the tangle of blankets and pillows wrapped around his legs. He just about made it to the toilet before the expensive three course meal and the few glasses of Macallan they'd knocked back after became a wasted investment.

Price walked into the en suite after him, rubbing a warm palm over his back. "Ay, you're alrigh', deep breaths between." As Nik's body continued to seize and tense, Price looked the rest of him over. There were hives on the back of the hands grasping the toilet bowl and his skin was cold to the touch, clammy, not the flushed heat it should have been from sex. "Nik, 'm gonna call the infirmary."

"Nyet!" Nik near shouted into the toilet bowl, reaching out to grab Price just behind the knee before he could walk away. "Nyet, John... It will pass."

"Don't be a muppet. They'll give you a look over and make sure you don't need A&E." Price grabbed one of his travel mugs and filled it with water from the tap. Nik took it from him in a shaking hand and managed several gulps before slumping back against the wall, throwing the toilet seat down as he went. His chin fell to his chest, one forearm slanted across a raised knee.

"This... This is self-inflicted," Nik said. "I am already embarrassed enough."

Price squinted, sitting slowly on the toilet lid, nudging the flush down with his elbow. "Start talkin'. This ain't like you. And if I don't think you're bein' honest, I'm callin' Janie."

"She is the doctor who signed you off for your ACL surgery."

"The very same."

"I would be in trouble."

"Yeah, loads. Stop delaying."

Nik sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes before his palm flattened to his chest. Price could see the flush of shame up his neck, the way his eyes stayed fixed on the floor rather than look up as he spoke. "I have an allergy to sildenafil."

Price wracked his brains and then huffed an incredulous laugh. "Viagra, Nik, I..."

When Nik turned his face away, swallowing, Price wanted to kick himself with steel toe-capped size twelves for being an arsehole of a partner.

"Ay, ay, don't... I'm sorry, that was... I was just... Why the fuck are you takin' viagra?"

Nik's jaw twitched from where his teeth were clenched, and he wiped one big hand down his face. The shame rolling off of him was palpable. "I am having... problems."

"Are they... Are we talkin' life-threatening problems?"

"Nyet. I simply cannot... it will not... you know," Nik waved his hand vaguely, "I... I was screened for some things. They said perhaps it is nerve damage from some shrapnel in my back, or perhaps it is all in my head, but I am... too ashamed to pursue more."

Price slipped from the toilet to sit at Nik's side against the wall, gently sliding his hand into the one dangling over his knee. Nik always spoke openly about sex, about their relationship, chuckling when Price squirmed and blushed like a prude. To watch him fumble and close up made Price's heart ache. "Why'd ya not tell me?"

Nik huffed dismissively, still looking away. "Da, how to say to your handsome, vigorous partner that you are unable to satisfy him in bed? That your body is... useless. That you are less than a man."

"Oh yeah, so the obvious solution is to take viagra, which you are violently allergic to. Absolute banger of a solution, Nik. Top marks," Price squeezed his hand, "and all this B.S. about bein' less than a man? Wind it in. It's bollocks."

"Zatknis, John..."

"Yer a smart man, Nik. But sometimes yer a..."

"...Muppet."

"Yeah, one of those," Price growled. "Yer seein' Janie in the mornin'. Not just for the allergy, for the lot."

"John, I cannot, it--"

"It could be a lot of things. Some of them more dangerous than others. Mine was stress."

Nik looked up quickly. "You have...?"

"Oh yeah. Mine stopped workin' fer about seven months five years ago. Coincided with a few large scale international fuck ups, a crammed schedule, an injury and some physio. Couldn't get it up fer the hottest piece of arse on Grindr, even if ya paid me."

"I did not know..."

"Course you didn't, we weren't exactly bumpin' uglies back then, were we?"

Nik smiled. "You have such a way with words..."

"Mhm." Price stroked his thumb over the back of Nik's hand, studying his face carefully. "You solid? No tight throat? You can breathe? There's an epipen in the first aid kit in the hallway."

"I am fine. This... It was similar when I tested it, but without the--" he gestured at the toilet, "my breathing is fine. I would... like to go to bed."

"Course." Price climbed to his feet, grunting at the clashing sensation of clicking knees and a numb arse, before helping Nik do the same. "Brush yer bloody teeth so I can kiss you."

Nik huffed softly. "Da."

When they climbed back into bed, Price kissed Nik gently, and then gathered him to his chest. Nik rested his ear over Price's heart and Price stroked his fingers through his hair. There was no fuckin' way he was sleeping that night. He'd stay awake and watch Nik sleep, listening to his slow breathing, checking the pulse at his neck. In the morning, he would let Janie eviscerate him for being so laissez faire with his health.

Then, and only then, they were gonna have a long chat about honesty, openness and trust. Cause knowing that Nik would rather poison himself than 'fail' Price in any way - regardless of how legitimate Nik felt that belief was - left Price with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Outsider pt 1 (5/19)

Outsider Series

Chapter 5 Shades of Color

A fretful night sleep followed, still Awenha awoke, ate, and then headed to Tiakan’s lab. Hours passed by her undetected in the efforts she was attempting. She was finally managing to stay focused. Whether it was because it grounded her or that an innocent man needed help, she was going to complete their part in it. The desperate need to right it felt important to Awenha. It wasn’t just his life, but her life as well.

Tiakan had left a few hours ago to go to sleep, but sensing she would rather say he did not push her to leave. Awenha would not have gone anyway. When she was tired enough she slept in the cradle. The proto-type cot lay underneath the floating image of the man’s brain. The flashes of color lighting up parts of his temporal lobe became a hypnotizing lull that carried her into a dreamless sleep.

A few hours passed when she awoke, refreshed her tussled hair and puffy tired face then proceeded to go back to work. Awenha sat at her father’s workstation surrounded by the neatly disorganized mess. Determined tired eyes studied the scans.

The flashbacks of what occurred in her lab were less. She wondered if it was because her mind was so preoccupied. But none the less she accepted the silence as a merciful side-effect of over working.

Awenha’s eyes glanced to the side to a black and white image. Caught off guard by the fresh young face of a man standing with Steve Rogers she picked up the pad. A genuine smile that crawled all the up to his eyes, maybe he was blushing, she thought. But she would never know as the hue of his skin was lost to the shades of gray.

 “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.” She said in an even hushed tone.

Her thoughts wandered to his past concerns during the time the photo was taken. Little worry seemed to linger in his expression. The haunted confused appearance of him that she knew all too well was in stark contrast to what she stared at.

She put the pad to the side and picked up a crown of wires made of vibranium laced hardware, and integrated capable programming. She gazed speculatively at the device ensuring the connections were sound. With this she could really know, Awenha’s thoughts turned back to Sergeant Barnes. The man would be separated from the monster HYDRA created. Then she would know him as he knew himself. The thought of stepping into his mind both thrilled and alarmed her with the possibility of meeting the true Sergeant Barnes.

He stayed with her, though the flashbacks hit softer, his murky bottomless presence was there even if she did not want it. She thought that maybe a piece of his soul broke off and now traveled within her smearing his hurt and fear along the way.

She clipped and soldered the last of the wires to the cap that Tiakan had constructed. Their calculations were precise to the last decimal, Awenha booted up the device without a hitch in its operation. The device would enable an interface with the thoughts and memories of Sergeant Barnes. The screen flickered on the screen to her side when then the diagnostic window appeared. Awenha smiled big and sighed loud as she finally succeeded.

“Do you need a test subject?” A slender woman with a brightly patterned shirt and pants walked into her lab. Princess Shuri smiled haughtily as she flung her head back. “But only once! I would hate to have my brilliance tapered.”

The young woman laughed aloud that rolled into a giggle as she plopped down in the chair across from Awenha. Shuri’s long fingers could not help but to touch everything. The engineer in her directed the natural yearn to learn from her environment. But sometimes, her ego would kick in chiding her that she should already know.

“Walk me through this again cousin.” She said as she held the device in her hands and then placed it as a crown on top of her head.

“We are looking for ear marks in memory. Entering a memory can help detect the frequency of damage.” Awenha pressed the soft padding of the device along Shuri’s forehead as she continued.

“Memory is fluid really, held together thoughtfully instead of mechanically. We find the end of the length of damage; theoretically, we should be able to pinpoint the origin of the thought reform.”

Awenha then placed the second device upon her own head while pressing the padded nodes into her own forehead.

“The area should be then easily repaired with your tech. You just needed this scalpel rather than a can opener.” Awenha’s voice halted when she saw Shuri’s confused gaze.

“Can opener?”

Awenha looked back at her cousin. She had forgotten that Shuri had not been out in the world as she had. What need would Wakanda have for canned foods?

“Nevermind.” Awenha pressed a few more commands. “Ready? I have no idea how this will be. Prepare yourself.”

Shuri’s eyebrows rose high and an unsure expression spread across her face.

“Close your eyes, cousin. Three, two, one.”

Awenha was plunged into a shimmering slip of consciousness surrounded her. The sense of feeling was beyond the body but wholly contained within her mind. At first she resisted the feeling of falling but quickly surrendered to the destination.

It was easier to maneuver and more intuitive than she initially thought their device could provide. Her thoughts guided her into Shuri’s presenting memory. The landscape was that of the mountains behind the palace of the King. A little girl came running from Awenha’s left side. Her bouncing braids and flowing flora printed dress fell behind her as jumped into her father’s arms.

  “I concentrated on my favorite day.” Adult Shuri stood beside Awenha. Her appearance was different than in the world they realistically were sitting in. Shuri’s dark brown skin shimmered and blurred at the lines of her body, her braids shorter and fashioned into a twisted crown upon her head. The clothes stood in sharp contrast in bright yellow, neon blue, and pink to the mellow memory before the two of them.

Shuri looked over to Awenha. Surprised Shuri simply stared. Awenha too had taken on a different visual persona. Her tawny skin shimmered like brown velvet and blurred but her hair moved as though a current of water was running around it. The metallic blue and silver dress was not intricate but simple black leather panels at the neck and collar with just a flickering light that looked to be woven into the fabric.

“You look like the spirit of hardware.” Shuri smiled while lightly touching her sleeve.

The interaction created a kick back that was unexpected. Shuri paused and appeared stuck in the action while Awenha was completely able to regard her. A surge of emotion swept through Awenha. Happiness, joy, insecurities and pride raced through her. She recognized it as Shuri, not a program or some mistake in feedback but who Shuri was at her essence. Awenha felt goodness in her and hope. Awenha stepped away and the contact between them discontinued. But the feeling of Shuri remained.

“Did you feel that?” Shuri looked around before returning her shocked expression back to Awenha. “I..I saw..I saw you.”

Worried, Awenha looked down and away from Shuri.

“The white man…he- Awenha look at me.”

Dark, sad eyes rested upon Shuri.

“I saw him strike you Awenha. I felt your fear, sorrow - all the bad.” She waved her hands in front of her as if to encircle the empty air in front of her.

Awenha nodded.

“And he-“

“Yes.” She sighed. “To all of it, Shuri.”

Awenha stared at Shuri for a moment, willing an excuse to come to her mind that would explain what the young woman had seen. For a split second she thought to lie. But as she looked at Shuri’s shocked appearance shift into a less discernable expression the thought died in her.

“That memory was not for you. I am sorry you witnessed any of it. It was an unexpected by-product of cross integration. I can tone that down on my end.” She continued.

Shuri watched Awenha for a moment before she spoke. “I’m not sorry.”

She turned her head toward Shuri. Feelings of understanding remain in place instead of the embarrassment that threatened to take over. Awenha nodded.

“I think this can work for him Shuri. I simply prompt his memory to the moment of augmentation. Then on your side of things you eliminate it with your biomemetic algorithm.”

“A restart.” Shuri concluded.

Status quo is decided here. The right to rule is upheld no matter the fate of the defeated. Six tribes gathered upon damp river rocks to await their future king. Warrior Falls had seen many men come to prove their worth for the title. Today held significant and maintained a tradition of besting ones competition for leadership and country.

Awenha stood between Tiakan and Drea as the three of them chanted in honor of the Prince. Their bodies moved, and dipped as the beat rose and fell like the tide being held back above them.  Descending from the sky the eyes of the crowd followed the ship land, and then opened as Prince T’Challa stepped into the pool for battle.

After being stripped of the power of the heart-shaped herb it was asked of the prominent members of each tribe to challenge. Each called out their tribe’s battle cry before declining their right. Awenha glanced up at Tiakan, his face was proud, though ready to serve. She wandered if his heart was beating as fast as her. Finally, the shaman called out to the members of Royal Blood for challenge.

Awenha caught the shift in Drea’s restless stance at the pronouncement. They were Golden Tribe, the family that supported the king but not allowed to challenge. Awenha caught the eyes of the other tribes cutting glances in their direction before looking to Princess Shuri. Whom, to Awenha’s amusement, had her hand raised to answer the shaman. Scandalized gasping and shocked grumbles echoed through the mass of people. Awenha turned to her mother, Drea smiled brightly down at the young woman.

The event ended with a challenge from M’Baku the elusive and often ridiculed leader of the Jabari Tribe. Afterward, the only person to be seen speaking with the Jabari was Tiakan, to Drea’s discouragement.  But Awenha knew there was no use in educating her father in the delicate relationships and preconceptions people held. She admired his refusal to bend to normalcy. Their new King T’Challa was celebrated, as Drea managed to drag Tiakan to the Gold Tribes’ celebration.  

A large festival in the streets could be heard from the medical lab. People cheered, the occasional pop of fireworks echoed, and those brave enough to with stand heights rode hover wings above the city skyline.

Awenha monitored the vital statistics of Sergeant Barnes. The partial stasis within the pod gave her a steady heartbeat, blood pressure, and brain activity to follow. His signs were as stable as they ever would be for what she was about to attempt.

She held the now fully rendered head piece in her hand and looked up to see its companion resting upon the crown of his head. Awenha nibbled her bottom lip, her fingers hung over the activation bead nervously.

A thick swallow followed when she considered what she was about to uncover. What memories sustained this man? Were there beautiful moments he clung to in dark times? And would she see the bright and busted bits to finally know him. Awenha would be lying to herself to deny the wide and steadfast curiosity within.

Sometimes she could not even think about the number of times he rolled over in her mind. The obsession for insightful revelations kept her motivated until this moment. She sat near him mulling over the consequences of her actions while delaying the second that would throw her into his mind.

Exhausted with the tedious thoughts she reassessed her objective. Get the markers to coordinate the region of his brain to ear-mark for application of treatment. He was their patient, she reminded the growing anxiety, and it was her job to help Sergeant Barnes or else risk him never knowing himself again.

Awenha sat back in the chair then closed her eyes. She took a deep breath held it in then released it. She activated the kimoyo beads that encircled her left wrist. Once more she was thrust into the dazzling lights of consciousness, the sensation of falling from the light and into blinding white blankness overcame her sense of equilibrium for a moment.

Tall, sharp mountains covered in snow appeared, Awenha’s eyes glanced around and noticed the snow lay everywhere on hills and trees alike. Fog of winter or coldness hung in the air, though she could not feel the iciness, she was certain it was freezing here. She looked down, the snow was up to her shins as she continued to explore the immediate area.

After what felt like an hour of observing the mountains and rushing freezing river Awenha called out into the emptiness. There was a great possibility of interacting with his avatar. However, she was unsure Sergeant Barnes would recognize her in regards to any affiliation to his memories.

“Hello.” A voice came from directly behind her.

Awenha turned around and took at the man who stood but a few feet away. Blue eyes stared down at her as he too was taking her in. His hair was shorter clipped to his head and parted down the right side. Perhaps a shadow of a beard but his face bore no signs of sadness or conflict. A sudden handsome smile brightly lit his expression. Awenha felt taken back for a moment but allowed the feeling of security override her instinct to flinch.

“Sergeant Barnes.” She asked. He nodded while shifting his weight to the right and tilting his head as his eyes roamed her figure.

“That’s me. Who are you, pretty girl?” His voice was low perhaps even sensual as he spoke.

Awenha did not see any expression of recognition in him. This might not work, she thought, this version of the sergeant is incomplete. This avatar is the person before Hydra. After her first experiment with Shuri and their interactions, there was a possibility to hasten the dialogue along.

“My name is Awenha.”

His bright smile turned into an expression of joy.

“And that’s a beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” He drawled. His eyes focused on her lasciviously.

“Sergeant Barnes, might I shake your hand?” she asked as her hand waited in the air between them.

He reached for her hand as he was about to speak. But on contact he was frozen in his position. Awenha connected with his thoughts, memories, and intentions. As with her cousin, Awenha sensed that James Buchanan Barnes was not the person who had attacked her, not really. She could see who he was in a stunning array of color from the mind. Each hue rushed through her thoughts as if the colors were assigned an emotion, a memory, or his core beliefs and reactions.

A man split into fragments and put together in to two pieces remained. A compartmentalized mind was the only thing that held his psyche together. But the flecks of black hell he experienced and hurt other people with was the rarest part of him. HYDRA traumatized words into him and connected them to his function and controlled his actions. Her mind collected and tagged the memories that had the greatest influence over Sergeant Barnes when triggered.

Awenha held onto his hand and waited until the concentrated essence of who he was washed over her. Colors never experienced blazed a path of goodness, honesty, and wholesome loyalty through her mind as she felt him. He was like any other man. He was flawed and imperfect but not without a will of his own to overcome his insecurities of fear, obsession, and selfishness. His true nature became a moral touchstone, an insight to his qualities that were timeless and unchanging.

She released him and took a step back. Alarmed she watched as his avatar shifted in and out of clarity. Sergeant Barnes’ image settled upon a representation that was more recognizable to her. His brown hair was long to his shoulders, his beard was fuller and his left arm was gone but his eyes were soft and forgiving.

He looked at her. “I remember you.”

Awenha searched his eyes; she saw nothing but peace in them. It was an experience far removed from the last time she was standing in front of him.

His lips parted achingly his eyes pooled with tears.

“I—I would have never done that to you. I’m not that kind of man.” His voice cracking as he looked at the snow.

“I know that now.” She whispered honestly.

“I’ve hurt so many people.”

“You were not in control.” She pointed out.

“It was still my body.”

“You can be freed of this hell.” Awenha wanted to change his focus. Her dark eyes shifted to the mountains surrounding them looking for another chain of thought. The restlessness in his voice and the new found clarity of what transpired between them could damage any progress she made.

“Thank you, Awenha. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Will you stay?”

Her focus returned to him. He was watching her. But she felt more shocked in knowing that he said her name.

“Shuri is the genius. I am merely a tool in her arsenal. ” She paused as her eyes returned back to his.

“Maybe when I wake up...do you think you will want to talk to me?” He asked hesitantly.

“Why would you want to speak to me?” Her eyes focused on his.

“I haven’t had much calm in my life. You’re kind-“

The vulnerability in his demeanor rattled her.  Awenha took a step closer to him, her eyes never wavering from his. He appeared kind and approachable. And she got the distinct feeling her presence was significant to him. Perhaps not in the way of a guardian or friend, but as pensive eyes peered into her Awenha stood motionless under his gaze.

 “I will.” She spoke quietly. "Sergeant Barnes, have the sweetest of dreams.”

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Just Doin’ My Job, Darlin’

Summary: Your job as a Ravager gets you into trouble with the intergalactic hero known as Captain Marvel.

Pairing: Reader x Carol Danvers

Warnings: some blood, light violence

Words: 3,547

"Uh... hey," you practically stuttered out, startled to find someone behind you.

You were a ravager, and you were damn good at your job. That meant knowing your surroundings, especially when you were on a job. Yet, somehow, she'd managed to sneak up on you. If you hadn't been quick enough to shove the ring deep into your pocket, you'd have been caught red-handed.

You were damn good at your job, and you composed yourself in seconds. The ring slipped out from where it was clutched between your fingers and you withdrew your hands from within your pockets. You plastered a confident smile on your face as you crossed your arms across your chest.

"Hey there," the blonde offered, an equally confident smile on her face. "What's up?"

"Nothin'," you shrugged, uncrossing your arms and looping your thumbs through the belt loops on your pants. "Taking a walk. Beautiful night, isn't it, Beautiful?"

The blonde's eyes sparkled in amusement. She took a few steps closer. Confidence still coursing through your veins, you let her. You didn't make any move to back down. She noticed that. When she stopped, she was only a few feet away from you. Another step and she could have reached out and touched you.

The blonde's lips crept into a cocky expression. "Beautiful night indeed."

You didn't dare make it obvious how you were checking out the area for the second time. When you'd entered, you'd made note of every entrance and exit to the area. The blonde was blocking the one that lay directly ahead, but not the one behind you. That was free for you to turn and run to. You just needed to wait. If you went now, she'd be right behind you and able to catch up to you in mere seconds.

"Headed somewhere? I could walk you?" She offered. "You know, Fennal isn't always safe at night."

"I'm just going up the street. I'm good thanks."

You could feel the ring pressed against your leg in your pocket. You knew she knew you were up to no good. You also knew that she knew you knew she knew. Neither of you would say that aloud, though. It was a bit of a game, at this point. She wanted that little piece of jewelry in your pocket. You wanted it too. No, you wanted the pay you were promised for stealing it.

"You sure? I'm probably headed in the same direction."

"I doubt it," you laughed.

The blonde smirked a little. You kept your eyes with hers, unable to ignore just how beautiful her light brown irises really were. But you wouldn't tell her that. You wouldn't tell her jack shit. You were waiting for her to get distracted for one brief moment so that you could turn and sprint down that alley. It seemed your wishes were heard.

"Hey, Carol!" A voice called.

The blonde, Carol, let her gaze flicker toward the voice for a mere millisecond and you took the opportunity to turn and dart as fast as you could down the alley behind you. Your ears strained to hear over the sound of your own shoes hitting the gravel beneath your feet. Unmistakably, though, you heard the set of footsteps chasing after you. You pushed even harder.

You ducked through a backyard, pushing out of your way a jacket that was hanging on a clothesline. At the other side of the yard, you hopped over the fence and landed smoothly on the ground on the other side. But now, you didn't hear Carol's steps. You didn't risk slowing down. You kept onward in the direction of your pod.

As you ran, you became aware of your shadow growing in front of you. It was surrounded by a glowing orange light. Even as your lungs struggled to get enough oxygen, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When your shadow began to spin around your body until it was behind you, you realized why. You could have huffed aloud at the complete unfairness of the situation.

Carol was fifteen feet off the ground, surrounded by a bright orange glow. She still had that same smirk on her face as she looked down on you. You were hesitating in your step, now, not sure you could outrun her. You knew one thing, though. Despite these powers the blonde had, you weren't about to give up. You turned on your heel.

You watched your own shadow to keep track of Carol. She was following you. Your shadow shrunk and indicated she was getting closer. When your shadow began to shrink faster, you made a sharp turn to the left. The shadow grew a little as she fell behind a few feet, not prepared for the sudden change in direction. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, but you weren't a stranger to chases. You'd had more than a few run-ins with guards from many planets throughout the galaxy.

You smirked at the sight in front of you. One of the planet's natives had just inserted the keys into a hover bike but hadn't yet gotten on. You struggled to go faster than you thought you could. You pushed him to the ground, hopped on, and immediately pushed the bike as fast as it would go. You had to grip the handles tight as your inertia tried to hold you back.

The bike seemed to rival Carol's speed. The size of your shadow in front of you stayed constant and you managed to take a quick glance behind you. Carol was high in the air, hands down by her hips, moving more quickly than a person should be able to in order to keep up with the bike you were on. Then your pod came into view and you let a small smirk come over your face. You turned to the bike made to move past the ship, then jumped off.

Pain raced through your body. You ignored it, rolling a couple times to take the impact, racing up the ramp as quick as you possibly could, and slamming your hand down on the red button to shut the hatch. Carol wasn't thirty feet away. You took the last of your energy to roll onto your back.

"Athena, max speed!" You shouted.

The AI heard. She ignored every protocol about seatbelts and closed doors as the captain's voice override her programming. The pod had a max speed of 50,000 kilometers per hour. It was nothing compared to the main ship, but it was sure faster than Carol. The ship's acceleration got the best of her, and soon enough you were barreling through space and leaving her far behind.

As it had sped up faster than physics should have allowed, though, your body had slammed into the wall behind you. You groaned as you rolled away from it, every bone, organ, and tissue in your body aching from the speed. Your organs seemed to have caught up to the ship, finally. You resisted the urge to puke as you pulled yourself to your feet, rubbing a sore shoulder and swiping your fingers over the blood dripping down your forehead.

"Thanks, Athena. Take us home."

"Roger that, Boss."

You let yourself drop into your chair. You took the black mask off from where it had rested over the top half of your face, rubbing the pad of your index finger over the spot where it had pushed into the bridge of your nose, grumbling in frustration. You could feel the indent in your skin.

"ETA?"

"Twenty-seven minutes."

Those twenty-seven minutes seemed to take forever. The pod was small. There wasn't anywhere you could lay your head back. There wasn't a damn bathroom, a fact you couldn't seem to get your mind off. When the pod had secured itself to the mothership, you practically sprinted out and to the nearest toilet.

Your red jacket was undone as you stepped onto the bridge of The Athena. It was the middle of the night based on your home planet, the time that you and your crew followed to at least keep a semblance of a schedule. Because of the time, though, most of the crew had retreated to their quarters for the night and were fast asleep.  

"Hey, Cap."

The greeting caught your attention. You turned toward the voice, smiling when you met the gaze of your first mate. He wasn't much younger than you were. He was from a planet called Dervius, having retreated from the planet to live a life with the Ravagers after living a life of poverty there for ten years, having been cast out by his family at only eight. It was your third day as the leader of your clan when you picked him up and took him in, giving him a spot in your crew. That was already five years ago and the Dervion had worked his way all the way up to first mate.

"Vyn," you greeted.

"How'd it go?"

You pulled the sparkling ring from your pocket. Vyn grinned at the sight of it. He pulled a device out of his pocket, tapping on the screen a few times and then humming quietly as he scrolled. He let out a soft exclamation of victory as he found what he had been searching for.

"Three hundred thousand. Damn, Cap. That thing can't be worth 100k."

"Well, we charge for the stealing part too, Vyn."

Vyn shrugged. "Fair enough. Why don't you go catch some shuteye? We should be back to the buyer in a few hours. Who's doing the delivery?"

"I will," you said, sticking the ring back into your pocket.

Vyn chuckled. "You know, Cap, that most clan leaders aren't so hands on with the dirty work."

"I'm not most clan leaders, Vyn," you winked. "I'm heading down to my quarters. Call for me when we get there."

︽✵︽

You straightened out your red jacket as you stepped out of your pod. You nodded at the landing strip attendant as you ventured onto the familiar planet. You whistled merrily on your way, flashing wide smiles at whoever you happened to make eye contact with. You glanced at your phone as it directed you where to go. You could have caught a ride, but you were up for a bit of a walk.

It was a half hour walk to the place you were looking for. You stepped in quietly. It was a bar, and not exactly a very nice looking one. You wouldn't be surprised if half the people in there were criminals. In fact, you wouldn't be surprised if you weren't the only Ravager in there. When you entered you pulled the mask over your face again, clipping the flames of the Ravagers over your chest.

You stepped up to the bar and ordered a drink. You took it when it came and slid into one of the booths. You'd arrived early, and knew it'd be a while before the client arrived. You scanned the area as you waited, sipping quietly as you watched the planet natives, finding entertainment in two particularly large guys fighting over who had made the illegal move in a game of darts.

"Captain Red?"

Of course, that wasn't your real name. You'd never give your real name to a client. You only nodded, gesturing to the seat across from you. He sat down and fumbled with his hands a little, clearly nervous. It wasn't an uncommon reaction. He was meeting with a thief for hire and paying a good sum of money for stolen goods.

"I have the money."

"Straight to business, I see," you hummed, sipping from your glass. "That's alright with me."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out the ring. His eyes immediately locked to it. He reached out and you pulled away, keeping the piece out of his reach. You raised a single eyebrow as his eyes moved back up to yours. You clicked your tongue as a small smile of amusement played over your lips.

"Units first."

He nodded. He pulled out a device from his pocket, pressing some buttons on it. Yours, which sat out on the table in front of you, beeped. You glanced at it to find the transfer complete. Then you nodded, placing the ring flat in your palm, and holding it out in front of you.

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir."

He grabbed the ring, nodded, and scampered out without another word. You chuckled lightly to yourself, draining what was left in your glass. You pulled the mask off again and took the pin off your chest. Everyone else in the room was too drunk to notice the change. You stepped up to the bar once more.

"I'll take another."

The bartender nodded. He filled your glass as you put a finger to the comm in your ear and let Vyn know you were going to stick around for a little fun, should anyone want to join. But the Ravagers had made their own fun the previous night and were far too hungover to think of joining you in the bar. You rolled her eyes as you lowered your hand.

"Prettiest girl in the bar, aren't ya?" A voice slurred to your left.

You turned just in time to see the man flashed you a wide grin. You nodded and tilted your head a little. "I'd expect."

"So why don't ya come sit a little closer?"

You laughed. "I'm alright just where I am."

He sneered. "Listen here-"

But a shadow appeared between you and he, cast upon the bar top. It distracted the both of you. You turned to see who had stepped up to the two of you, and your jaw could have hit the ground. But your face stayed blank as the blonde's gaze met you for just a brief second before turning back to the man who had been hitting on you. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Everything alright here?"

"'Course."

"I'd hope," she hummed. "Because I seem to remember you and I having a nice, long talk about good manners."

"We did," he coughed. He stood up, nodding at you and retreating back across the room to where his friends were all jesting and shouting, spilling their drinks on the tabletops, the floor, and themselves.

You turned your attention back to the woman who had stepped up next to you. She was taking the seat beside yours, ordering a drink for herself and another for you. You smirked a little when she turned to you. Despite your lack of a mask and the absence of the flames upon your chest, she recognized you immediately.

"Long time no see," she offered.

You chuckled. "Very. What's a Fenarian guard like you hangin' out in a place like this for, Carol?"

"Caught my name, I see," she said, accepting the drink that was slid toward her. "But the guard thing isn't quite accurate."

"Oh, no?"

That didn't get a reply. You sipped your drink, watching her the entire time. She only shrugged her shoulders, drinking from her own glass. It stayed like that for a long while. Your egos were both too big to dare be the one to break the silence that had fallen upon you. So, you drank in silence. In fact, you'd both drained your glasses before Carol finally took it upon herself to be the one to speak the first words.

"You know my name, and I don't know yours."

"That's intentional," you told her. "But if you must call me something, I usually just go by Captain. Cap works."

"That's a title, not a name."

"A fact I am well aware of, Carol."

When she didn't reply, you smirked a little. You weren't shy about the way you were eyeing her up and down. She was, to be frank, one of the most attractive women you'd ever met. She was smirking too, once your eyes had finally made their way back up to hers. You only offered a small tilt of your head in acknowledgement.

Carol stood. She placed a few coins down on the bar, enough to cover her own tab, yours, and a little more. She offered you a hand. You were confident, cocky even. You weren't one bit afraid of this woman. You put your hand into hers and let her pull you to your feet. She led you away from your stool, out the door, and into the bright sunlight of the planet. Then she kept going, moving away from the bar and leading you down the streets. At some point your fingers had intertwined with hers and now you were walking hand in hand down the streets.

"You know I didn't need anyone to save me from that guy, right?"

"A thanks might have sufficed," she replied.

"It might have," you agreed.

Finally, you both arrived back at the landing strips. She led you right back to your own pod. You hadn't yet paid the fee for having kept it parked there for the last hour and a half but, judging from the look on Carol's face, you weren't going anywhere just yet. This time it was you leading as you pulled her on board, closing the hatch behind you. Once it was closed you moved.

Your hands moved and took Carol's waist, pulling her close to you. Her body was flush against yours, her hands in your hair, as she kissed you back. She let out a soft noise as you pushed her against the wall behind her. You smirked against her lips. It was a long moment before Carol pushed you away breathlessly. But you weren't done.

Your lips moved down to her neck, bringing the skin between your lips as you sucked roughly at it. It was a full moan that tumbled from her lips this time. You wanted to laugh in victory, but instead you released the skin, running your tongue softly over the mark you'd left on her. You moved back up to her lips and pecked them once, pulling back to glance into those light brown irises.

"That all you got then, Y/N?"

"I thought you didn't know my name."

Carol rolled her eyes. "Sorry, love. I could call you Captain if you wanted."

You put a hand against her cheek. "That would be extraordinarily hot."

Carol laughed. She put her lips against yours again, kissing you once more. She spun the both of you so that you traded places. This time it was your back against the wall. You leaned into it without much fight, letting her take her turn controlling the pace of the kiss. When you finally separated, she rest her forehead against yours.

"I love you."

You laughed. "We just met."

"Oh, fuck off," she laughed too.

You brought her hand into yours, thumb gliding across the ring you'd put on her finger five years ago. Her eyes darted to the identical one on yours. Her smirk faded into a smile and she brought you hand up to her lips, kissing your knuckles softly. You leaned a little further into her touch, pecking her lips once more.

"I love you, too," you muttered against her.

She laughed. She put two fingers beneath your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet hers. You loved those eyes with that cunning sparkle in light brown irises that you'd fallen so hard for all those years ago. Just as she was about to kiss you once again, there was a banging on the outside of the pod. You huffed in frustration.

You didn't even bother going out. You quickly transferred the fee you owed electronically. The banging stopped, and so you assumed everything had gone through without a problem. You shoved the small device back into your pocket and then turned your attention back to Carol. She was watching you with amusement sparking in her eyes.

"You're cute when you're angry," she commented.

"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes. "We should get out of here before someone, you know, chases me off the planet."

Carol laughed, she put her arms around your waist. "I'm Captain Marvel. I can't let some thief get away with stealing valuables. Maybe they shouldn't have run."

"Just doin' my job, darlin'," you chuckled, arms resting on her shoulders and hands linking loosely behind her neck.

She hummed softly at that, kissing you again. It had been five years and her touch still made you melt. You were sure another five years could pass and that still wouldn't have changed. Your eyes fluttered shut and your lips moved with hers and the world could have disappeared around you and you wouldn't have noticed. But it didn't. There was banging on the door again.

"I need this spot!" The attendant shouted from the other side of the door.

You huffed. You forced yourself to peel away from Carol's body. You took a seat in front of the controls, and Carol took the one next to you. You started everything up, checking that they'd recharged the battery while you'd been there. Once you were sure of everything, you lay a hand on Carol's thigh and glanced out the front window.

"Take us away, Athena," you said.

"Roger that, Captain Danvers." 

[ohheyitsokay]

strike

part 3 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2k

warnings: extremely mild mentions of sex, unwanted advances that don’t get far (not by Frankie)

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball au - trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, we learn that a ‘strike’ is when a batter misses the ball when he swings, even though he shouldn’t have. And some strikes don’t just happen during baseball.

>>

“Jimbo, I'm here!” You called as you kicked the door closed behind you, arms heavy with grocery bags. Your grandfather would be in the living room, no doubt impatiently waiting for you to unload so you could watch the baseball game together. It was a few states away, which meant the two of you could enjoy evening on the couch with affordable snacks and air conditioning. Games in person were more exciting, but climbing all those stairs wasn’t great for his knees, and it was nice to chat with him without the roar of the crowds.

There was a faint squeak to his favorite rocker, and you unloaded half the bags onto the coffee table – his favorite treats – before tossing the rest haphazardly into their places in his little kitchen. You raced the commercials, listening to the final advertisements with one ear as you hurried to get yourself settled, even though he was always happy to chat with you during the game. For these times with him, you hated to miss even a moment. The chair to the left of his was yours, newer and softer and it would have been the perfect evening, eating and catching up with your favorite man.

Except this was the first real opportunity for him to grill you about your unexpected lunch with his heroes. 

There had been laughter in his voice when you had tried to call him afterwards, and he had told you he would wait to hear the story. To him, even over the phone you couldn’t hide how flustered you were, just moments after Francesco’s eyes had been in yours. All things considered, he had been more than patient, so as you fidgeted and you kept your eyes on the screen, you told him what had happened as casually as you could.

It was the top of the first inning – the very beginning of the game, and his boys were mostly crowded into the dugout. Their fingers were grabbing fistfuls of sunflower seeds or pulling on batting gloves or hanging on the wire, watching as Will walked up to bat. There was a fun country song playing, and it was surreal, thinking it had just been a few days since he had tossed a chunk of fried food into the air and his brother had caught it in his mouth. James thoroughly enjoyed you story, laughing and for once not lecturing you about leaving them alone to live their lives. He seemed approving, proud of you for taking a change, and proud that the boys from his favorite team did his favorite granddaughter well. You answered this questions and indulged his excitement over the little things, trying not to reveal too much of your own daydream fodder. Thinking of Francisco’s eyes as he laughed at the Miller boys, you grabbed a pillow to give your hands something to hold onto, to ground yourself.

The camera panned over to Tom adjusting his cap and without thinking you winced. When you realized that James had caught the movement, you winced again.

You had to explain, then, the biggest detail that you had glossed over – the only one that would disappoint your grandfather. The outfielder had looked at you with confidence and hunger in his eyes. His fingers on your hand left cool, invisible lines, slimy like residue of the stadium cup holders.

James listened with sad eyes, before he was reaching over, gently squeezing your hand, and asking about Will’s family in town to find out if he knew a relative. It was kindness - changing the topic, rewarming the memory as he coaxed out more details of their interactions with you and each other, making you blush and laugh and smile.

The discomfort that had been lodged in your heart regarding the athlete  lessened as you remembered that they were all human. It had been clear the other players respected him, maybe even looked up to him, and that had to be good for something. Even though it had just been a lunch, a single moment in time, the assessments of a group of open hearted baseball players already held weight on your opinion.

As you began to tell James about a joke Santiagio had told, you noticed that Tom’s turn had come and gone, and he had struck out.

-

Every professional sports group had a second team, full of people who pushed papers and cleaned locker rooms and handled press conferences. One of these people was a woman who was in charge of sorting through and organizing special fan appearances.

Flipping through applications and mail, she would have hardly noticed the broad shoulders and hazel eyes of the man who entered, had he not kissed her breathless the night before.

For all they were on and off and she knew he was a player in all senses of the word, she couldn’t help but stand, and let his hands find her hips as he pressed into her.

“Hi, Tom,” she whispered, already dazed and adoring as his beard scraped at her neck, warm and insistent.

“Hey, babe,” he returned, absentmindedly, squeezing her hips before pulling away. There was something about his eyes, the way he held his head, like his shoulders were comfortable bearing the weight of others, like he’d prefer it that way, that made him seem like a natural born leader.

She knew him better. He had the crowds and the rookies and the managers and even his brothers on the team wrapped around his fingers - the perfect mentorship allusion, but she knew. There was another side to him, a darker side, filled to the brim with pride and arrogance and power. Of all the men who flashed smiles as they shook hands and carried kids on their shoulders for photos – he was the one who preened the most. There was a hunger in his eyes, even greater than when he’d love her, when a chance came for him to do an extra interview, put some senior input in, or take a newbie to his first after party.

Still, she loved him. Too much, maybe, but her mind whispered not enough, and she hungrily took what ever he would give her. There were always flowers and jewelry and coveted high-status sex in his apologies, anyway, and she knew he’d always come back to her, eventually. She knew better than to guess.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, star stuck in spite of it all, but knowing there must be something. His “cousin” had stocks in the team, or a certain string needed to be pulled. There was always something. 

When he asked for the number of a girl from a few weeks ago, there was an all-too-familiar twist in her gut.

“Tom, you know that information is confidential,” she whined, masking her fear, turning back towards her desk. It was infuriating how disarming, intoxicating, and how solid he felt behind her, how smooth his words felt on the shell of her ear.

“It’s for Benny, babe, he’s got it bad for her,” it was a lie, but she didn’t know it, and the knot in her stomach loosened a little. His hand slipped under her blouse and it came undone, submitting entirely to the façade.

“Let me help the little guy out.” For all his charisma, she wanted desperately to believe he was sincere, so she did. Her hands started steady as she opened a thick binder and began flipping through the glossy dividers. She moved as slow as she could, hopelessly savoring his touch, knowing when it was gone, the unpleasant feelings would be just as strong.

But it didn’t take long to find you number and hand it over, and exchange more heated kisses and half promises before he slipped out.

The woman settled in her chair again, fingers tracing the letters of your name, the knot reforming below her breastbone. She reached for her phone, telling herself it was a courtesy, to give you a heads up.

-

When a player was about to steal second base, you always wondered if Santiago Garcia could tell, without even looking. If he could feel it in his bones, or if the hairs on the back his neck rose, against his sweat.

If he could, that was exactly how you would feel now, walking into the bar to see only Tom Davis waiting for you. The building was dim, strategically chosen by Will, allegedly, so they could drink in peace. As before however, there was no hiding the silhouette of a man like him, not when he was oozing confidence like sap from a tree.  

When he had called you, it had been so shocking you had agreed without thinking. It was surreal, but like following a trail of candy through a forest, not at all like the knights in shining armor of before.

He swung his arm around, cocky smile across his face, and you shook his hand.

There could not have been a more awkward boundary made, but he laughed it off as you considered turning tail and running. It was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help how guarded you felt alone with him, so you turned to the polished woof of the bar and ordered a lemonade. It would buy you time, anyway, to reassess. 

You had always thought of baseball players as beer guys, but he had a short glass of something gold and expensive, as if he were trying to prove a point. Slipping onto the stool next to him, you set your bag in between you like a wall. He was broad and he pulled close, making you almost press against his side, giving you the opportunity to realize his skin almost cold. Slow sips reminded you that there was no basis for your feelings, and you were the one being strange. 

It wasn’t bad, talking to him. You chided yourself internally, thinking you made unfair assumptions. Really, he was a nice guy. He talked highly of his friends, even defending their lateness, taking the blame for the mix-up. It felt like one of those interviews your grandfather would watch sometimes, the way he could go on about himself and somehow tell you nothing at all. Fighting your instincts to give short, guarded answers, you found yourself sharing about your life more than you expected. Not a lot, but not nothing either.

It was awkward and nice, not unlike a first date and when his large hand covered yours, it didn’t feel half as slimy as before.

A spider’s web was feather-light, so subtle it was almost impossible to feel until it was too late.

His eyes were sharp and deep and certain as he shifted closer, and you felt dazed, despite all the alcohol you hadn’t consumed.

When he leaned in, though, a thought struck you. With his deep hazel eyes, the perfect beard, and tanned skin, he looked like a prince. Not our prince, though, it was just someone else’s fairytale.

Clarity and your own confidence warmed you like a jacket one rainy day, and you touched Tom’s cheek, holding his face at enough of a distance. You shed the web before it stuck and something flickered in his eyes – doubt, maybe, or something like fear, as you spoke the most prominent thought on your mind. 

“What about Molly?”

-

When he heard you, again speaking words that weren't meant for his ears, warm pride shot through his chest.

That’s my girl.

Of course you weren’t, but it felt like you were.

You turned to him like you knew he was there, hand leaving Tom’s stunned face to wave at the grinning catcher.

Frankie had been at war with himself across the bar as he looked towards the two of you, heart wrenching. He had seen from the far side the room first how close you were to the other man. It was unreasonably terrifying to see that you weren't immune, to see you consider his friend. Then he saw how non responsive you’d become to Redfly, how politely you regarded him as he lathered on the charm. By the time he reached the two of you, he found you fully awake, handling it yourself.

When the woman had called you, her voice had betrayed something. It was formal conversation, just admitting she had shared your contact information, and disclosing that it was Tom, and he’d made it clear you guys were friends. Her tone, however, told you she was territorial and jealous, but also desperate, longing. It felt right to get out of the way – that’s what you and she wanted and you sort of thought that’s actually what he wanted, too. He was moving away from you, still processing, trying to play off the moment, and even more than pity, you felt a touch sad for them.

Still, you were impressed you were able to manage yourself. It was the same confidence that had filled you when you stood up for James, a confidence that came from a feeling that whispered something good was coming, something well worth the boldness.

When you felt a warm presence at your side, you felt even more sure. It felt wonderful, the way Francisco was looking at you. It was too early to read into it, but you were sure you wanted him to look at you like that again - like you were capable of telling mountains to move.

You smiled up at him, relieved, and he couldn’t help but beam back, wanting to hug you. He wasn’t feeling quite brave enough yet, but there was a resolve settling in his heart. There was no way he was going to leave your side tonight. 

The other guys came quickly. Each of them was excited to see you again, and you pretended not to notice them shooting confused glances at Redfly when he slipped outside to spit on the ground and stare at the sky. 

It didn’t take long for him to rejoin you, anyway, and his shoulders seemed lighter, his eyes just a little more thoughtful. 

The group as a whole accepted you into their fold like they needed you, like each one of them had missed you when you were gone, like you missed them, like you belonged there from the start.

You had no idea how long the daydream would last, but in that moment it didn’t feel like it mattered at all. Collecting stories for James even faded as a priority as you just enjoyed the feeling of the glass in your hands, the laughter in the air, and teasing the men like they were just boys. Even after the last half hour, it was easy to trust Will’s sincere tone, and Ben’s eager blue eyes. The others were grounded at your side, steady and comforting - you felt yourself open like a flower to the sun. 

There was something about the shape of the catcher at your side, safe and warm, like his presence was reaching for yours, aching with yours. Through the stories and the jokes you relished it, and his eyes made it clear that you weren’t alone. And even though the universe made it abundantly clear that you had no idea what would happen next, you didn’t feel any need to hurry. Fate seemed to know what she was doing.

In the darkness of the bar, only Santiago’s eyes saw Frankie’s hand find the small of your back.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #7

She slid silently through the compound, her black clothes blending with the shadows as she made her way to the main building. When she reached the side door, she quickly pulled the glove off her left hand and brushed her fingertips across the electronic keypad. Her eyes fluttered as millions of numbers flooded her mind. Twelve seconds later, she entered a six-digit code using her gloved right hand. The door swung open, and she stepped inside, carefully wiping away the fingerprints as she crossed the threshold.

That was easy.

She repeated the process at three more doors as she made her way up to the third floor, her heart catching each time the sound of footsteps sent her darting into open office spaces or behind potted plants.

After what felt like an eternity, she reached the correct corridor.

They do not pay me enough for this.

She counted doors as she walked: ehu, riau, silu... she paused in front of a plain wooded door with a traditional lock.

Slipping a set of lock picks from her pocket, she knelt and felt the lock with her bare fingers. Then she twisted the tools until the lock clicked open.

Entering the office, she took stock of the bookshelves along walls and the large window before stepping forward and taking a seat at the desk. She pulled off her black beanie and removed the sharpie holding her bun in place. Long blonde strands fell around her face as she pushed up her left sleeve before resting her fingers against the sleeping computer.

The flood of information was overwhelming, but she was used to it. Mentally scanning through dozens of files, she searched for the information she’d been sent to receive. She pulled the cap off the sharpie with her teeth and began scribbling on her forearm. She was nearly done when the handle of the door—which she’d foolishly left unlocked—began to turn. She ran the side of her fist against the computer screen, clumsily smudging her fingerprints as she looked around desperately for a place to hide.

She was halfway towards the heavy window curtains when a deep voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Well, well, well. This is most fortuitous.”

The lock clicked into place.

She lunged for the window, but a gloved hand caught her arm and swung her around.

“It will be much easier to learn directly from you what Supervillain is planning....”

Villain’s voice trailed off as he took in her mask and black clothing.

“You don’t work for Supervillain.”

She pried her arm free and skirted back a few steps, heart pounding. She’d never met or fought Villain before, but knew what he was, and his powers were more dangerous to her than most.

“No.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, little hero.” He narrowed his eyes, “What language is that?”

Hero hastily pulled down her sleeve to cover the writing. She had to get out of here. Now. But Villain was standing between her and the door. Like her, he was clad in all black, and it seemed like he wasn’t supposed to be here either.

“Listen,” she began to edge to the side. “your battle is with Supervillain, not me, so I’ll just be going.”

He mirrored her movement and pulled off his gloves. “I don’t think so.”

She swallowed.

“It seems like you already retrieved the information I need, and it will be much quicker get it from you than try to locate it on Supervillain’s server.” He took a step forward. She took a step back and switched the marker to her bare left hand.

Her back hit the window, and then he was right there.

Much much much too close.

She steeled herself and met his gaze.

“Go right ahead.”

His eyes widened as she offered him her right arm.

He pushed up her sleeve, eyes flickering across her face, expecting some sort of trap.

Tightening her grip around the sharpie, Hero let her powers flow through her.

Villain’s long fingers closed around her wrist as her mind went black.

She stood impassively, letting the blackness wash through her mind, erasing all conscious thought. His brows narrowed in concentration, and her knuckles turned white around the marker. His fingers tightened briefly before he released her and stepped back.

“You’re a mind reader as well?” He asked, pulling his thin gloves back on.

“Um what?”

“Only other mind readers are immune to my powers.”

Not only.

And she wasn’t immune to his power exactly. She’d just focused on the information stored in the sharpie, which, coincidentally, was the color black.

She shrugged. “I guess I’m just special.”

“Special enough you managed to break into Supervillain’s lair and hack his computer?”

“Something like tha—“ but he jumped forward and pressed a gloved hand over her mouth.

Shouts and hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Villain leaned in close, breath brushing her ear. “If Supervillain catches us, we’re worse than dead.”

“Truce?”

He nodded then promptly shoved her to the side. Pulling on a length of wire spooled in a cylinder at his belt, he hooked it onto the window frame.

He bent to flip the lock.

“Wait!”

Hero stretched her hand out and touched the electronic locking mechanism.

“It’s alarmed.”

Villain looked at her curiously. “Can you disarm it?”

“Not from here.”

“I guess we’ll just have to be quick then.” He gestured to the desk. “You might want your hat though.”

She rushed to grab it, shoving the ends her hair into her jacket and pulling the beanie on to cover the rest.

Peeking through the glass at the ground below, Hero swallowed. There was a reason she didn’t have flight powers.

The handle on the door rattled, and Villain pushed open the window. Blazing alarms split the air as Villain put a foot on the windowsill.

“If I take you with me, I want all the information you have on him.”

The door burst open.

“Deal.”

She didn’t have time to think about the looming drop before he pulled her against his chest and they fell through the air, bullets whizzing above them. They hit the ground with a jolt, and Villain grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet and away from the guards streaming towards them. They made it to the perimeter fence, and he boosted her over before easily swinging himself up. He led Hero into the trees, where a motorcycle sat concealed behind some bushes.

“The flash drive,” he gasped, bent over, hands on his knees.

“What?” she wheezed back, clutching her side.

He straightened. “Before we go any further, I want the flash drive you copied.”

“I don’t have a flash drive.”

His eyes darkened, and she rushed on, “But I do have the information on what Supervillain is planning.”

“So you read the files, know all the details.”

“I, well... not exactly... with my powers...”

She pushed up her sleeve.

“Look, this is what I have. But can we please have this conversation somewhere else.” She glanced back nervously at the fence and the flashlights that were growing closer.

Villain grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards him, green eyes gleaming in the light from the compound.

“First, you’re going to tell me: what exactly is your power?”

She sighed.

“You ever heard of osmosis?”

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 4 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Chapter summary: Cute work things (sorry im very hungover and i can't remember what i actually wrote)

Warnings: maybe a bit of second-hand embarrassment, masturbation

W/C: 1.5K

Part 1 Part 5

Monday night, Frankie arrived before you. The day cook, a grizzled old woman named Annette, gave him a toothy grin.

“Evenin’ hotshot,” she said. “You here to make all my dreams come true?”

“Only for a night, darlin’,” Frankie said.

“All you men are the same,” Annette laughed and handed Frankie the spatula. She gave him a to-do list, which was significantly shorter than the one on Friday night had been, bid him goodnight and hightailed it out of there, saying something about dinner with her husband.

Frankie watched the window out of the corner of his eye, waiting for you to arrive. There weren’t many orders up, so he could manage the task of cooking and having his head whip up every time he heard the tinkle of the chimes above the door.

It was almost forty-five minutes after he arrived before you came in, red faced and breathing heavily.

“I’m-I’m so sorry, Riss,” you panted. Marissa shrugged and patted you on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, sweet, I had some good company,” she winked at Frankie. “Have a good night, guys, don’t get into too much trouble!”

Frankie watched as you leant over the counter and caught your breath. “Do you want some water?”

You nodded wordlessly, straightening up. Frankie handed you a glass, a shock of electricity surging through him as your fingers briefly touched.

Fuck. He had it bad.

“I had to run here,” you said when you had your breath back. Frankie nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I found a kitten behind a dumpster, all wet and shivering and crying, so I had to take her to the vet.”

“What kind of kitten?” Frankie asked, having a soft spot for cats. He had had one, until he and Portia broke up and she took the cat with her. He didn’t hold it against her: Anthony the Great was technically hers.

“A black one. I’m not good with breeds,” you said.

The conversation was broken up by a pair of old men calling out your name. Your genuine smile was back as you greeted them. Frankie adjusted his cap and smiled to himself.

Occasionally he would glance up at you while he worked, catching the occasional glimpse of your side profile or the back of your head. You seemed a little lighter today, like you weren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was nearing 1 in the morning before he decided to attempt a conversation with you.

“So, how was your weekend?” He kept his tone light, nonchalant. You shrugged, pouring him a cup of coffee.

“It was okay, nothing special.” You stirred in the sugar as you spoke, avoiding his gaze. “My boyfriend has his stupid friends over so I spent most of my Sunday cleaning up after them.” Frankie deflated just a bit. Of course you had a boyfriend. Of course. Someone as beautiful as you . . . he’d be more surprised if you were single.

“But uh, I saw Manny on Sunday,” you continued, oblivious to Frankie’s disappointment. “You remember Manny, right? He was the night cook before you, you met him I think.”

“Yeah, I did. Nice guy.”

“Uh, yeah, so I saw Manny for lunch on Sunday and he suggested making a night shift lunch group.” You wiped down menus, deftly avoiding Frankie’s gaze. “And um, well, if you wanted to come this coming Sunday, that’d be cool.”

“You’re inviting me to lunch?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah,” you said, finally looking up at him. You flushed slightly. “If you’re interested, that is. You don’t have to, obviously, but Manny and I thought it would be nice. We could all get to know each other outside of this place. Make friends, you know?”

Frankie smiled, happy at least with the prospect of a friendship with you. “That sounds great. What time?”

“Midday, if you want you can give me your number later and I’ll text you the place?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Oh, and it’s just us three. So don’t invite the weekend crew, or your wife or anything.”

“I’m not married, so no problem there,” Frankie grinned at you. You nodded quickly, turning away before you could see the smile you were trying so desperately to fight off.

~*~

You didn’t know why it excited you so much that Frankie had said yes to Sunday lunch. Maybe it was because he wasn’t married, not that it made a difference.

Still, it gave you a slight thrill that Frankie had said yes.

You worked with a renewed vigor for the rest of the night. You weren’t sure any amount of rude customers or spilled drinks or broken plates that could bring you down. At one point you found yourself humming along to the radio, some song you hadn’t heard in years by an artist you couldn’t place. You knew it would bug you until you figured it out

“You like Prince?” Frankie asked, making you blush furiously at being caught with your guard down.

“I-uh-I-yeah. Yeah a bit,” you said, “actually, I haven’t listened to him in years. But I like a few of his songs.”

Frankie grinned and began to sing along in a terrible falsetto, making you snort with laughter. You danced along, allowing yourself this moment of freeing yourself of any embarrassment. After all, if Frankie was willing to put on the falsetto, it wouldn’t kill you to dance. The entire thing was ridiculous, but you were having a better time than you had had in months.

Frankie ended the song with a kick and a flourish, taking off his cap to bow dramatically.

“Have you ever thought of auditioning for one of those talent shows?” You grinned at him, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Actually, I’ve won several of them,” Frankie winked, “I just work jobs like this when I’m not on sold out world tours.” You laughed again at his joke, almost shocked at how easy it was to laugh with someone. How freeing it was to dance like a fool and not feel embarrassed or like you were in on the joke and not the butt of it.

The rest of the shift passed quickly, the night peppered with jokes between you and Frankie. At the end of the night, instead of rushing out the door as soon as your relief was there, you waited around a few minutes.

Your phone was mercifully free of messages from Kurt, pushing your mood even higher.

Frankie met you outside by the back door, and looked shocked to see you still there. You held up your phone as a way of explanation. “I still gotta get your number.” You handed your phone to Frankie, already open to the new contact screen. Frankie punched it in quickly and handed it back to you.

“What’s with the emojis?” you asked, squinting at them.

“It’s my nickname, Catfish. My buddies and I all had callsigns in the military and that was mine. Except for Benny. He was just Benny.”

“Catfish,” you repeated. “Well, I’ll see you tonight, Catfish.”

“Yeah, see you tonight.”

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You were too busy thinking. About him. Frankie. His dark, warm eyes that when you looked into them you felt like you could melt. The way his soft looking curls stuck out under his ever present cap. His smile that felt like safety. His hooked nose that led to lips you could only imagine kissing. His hands. You felt yourself warm as you imagined what you wanted his hands to do to you. You let yourself imagine what the rest of his body might look like.

Before you could overthink it and stop yourself, your fingers slipped between your folds and began to rub. You were wetter than you could remember yourself being. You moaned softly as you thought about him doing things to you that you didn’t even realise you wanted. Within minutes you were to your climax, legs stiffening and back arching. Sweat dotted your brow and your heart slammed into your ribcage. You hadn’t orgasmed in almost a year, always too exhausted to masturbate, and it wasn’t like Kurt gave a shit about you finishing when he fucked you.

The thought of Kurt immediately turned you sour. The burning feeling of betrayal knotted itself in your stomach. Kurt didn’t even let you have a vibrator. He had huffed and become scornful when you tentatively brought up the subject a few years back. He didn’t want anyone or anything but him to make you cum. It was a man's job to keep his woman satisfied, even if he struggled with the whole keeping you satisfied part.. You knew Kurt would practically have an aneurysm if he knew you were touching yourself to the thought of another man. But the thought of Frankie touching you gave you a thrill you hadn’t felt in years. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel truly guilty for it. Surely that was some kind of sign.

Eventually, you fell asleep a few hours before your alarm was supposed to go off. Normally, you dreamt of being in your own private space station, as far away from the apartment as possible. That night, you dreamt of Frankie.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 let me know if you'd like to be added <3

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | Interactions With Paparazzi [Request]

Seokjin:

Jin was rubbing your hand trying to reassure you that this was going to be fine and everyone was going to love you. BigHit had announced that they had an announcement to make regarding one of their employees and it was Jin. Well, Jin and you. Your relationship was finally going to be made known to the public after four years of dating, you were having mixed feelings about it. You couldn't decide if it was a good idea to do this or not, you thought people were going to hate you for hiding it for so long or maybe they would just hate you anyway.

"It's just a small interview, then it's all over and we can leave." He reassured you kissing your cheek and then looking over at his manager who was still talking to the interviewer about what they could and couldn't ask you,

"What if they hate us together?" Jin looked at you and could see you were seriously worried about it. You were overthinking every small detail you could think of and he didn't want you to have to carry that on your shoulders.

"They won't but even if they do, I love you and nothing that anyone can say will change that." You smiled feeling a little better now that he was reassuring you it was okay and the interviewer walked over sitting on the table in front of you while his camera crew got ready.

"So you and Y/n have been together for how long?" The interviewer questioned, all of the questions were going to be directed at Jin since he was the famous one in your relationship which gave you a sense of relieve.

"Four years, five in December." He answered the interviewer turned to look at you with a giant smile on his face.

"How were you feeling after your first date with him? What was it like?" You smiled at the memory you had of your first date and you looked at Jin to make sure it was okay to talk about and he nodded,

"Our first date was a mess," You laughed as you remembered it more and more, Jin had made you promise that it wasn't your first ''official'' date since it was such a disaster but you still counted it as such.

"We went out for a walk around the Han River and he was so nervous that he actually ended up falling over one of the metal railings and into the river." Jin groaned hiding his face in his hands while you continued to tell the story,

"I went to help him out and he ended up pulling me in with him and we were freezing since it was the middle of Winter." The interviewer was laughing along with you while Jin cringed in the corner.

"I don't even think the boys know about this, he made me promise that it wasn't our official first date." You all finished laughing and Jin was still cringing at the memories he'd thought he'd erased from his memory and the interviewer moved on to more questions.

"So what was your official date then?" You looked at Jin who went on to explain that after the disaster of the first one he took you out to a restaurant, nowhere near water, then he took you out to see a show together and go to do a little sightseeing.

"We ended up getting stuck out in Busan though because the car I was renting broke down so we spent the night walking along the roads trying to find somewhere to stay and we found a cute b&b." You smiled at the fond memories that you had with Jin and the interviewer continued to question you both while you were only half paying attention to everything happening.

Yoongi:

"Yoongi I don't know if this is such a good idea, anyone could be watching the house." You said as Yoongi packed up his bag ready to head to the studio. He'd stayed over the night before, something you both promised never to do because it could lead to things like this happening and you would be in the position you're in now.

"I'm sure no one saw me coming," He chuckled walking over to you, you were trying to look through the blinds for anyone that was watching the house but Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist and was resting his head on your shoulder.

"No one's there." The car that was picking him up pulled into the driveway and you sighed not wanting him to leave just yet.

"I'll come back later and we can do this again." He told you once he saw the sad expression on your face,

"Yoongi you can stay over again what if-" You didn't get to finish your sentence because he started kissing you to shut you up. He was sick of hiding from everyone he wanted everyone to know that you were the one he loved and if getting caught was the way to do it then he was going to deal with the consequences.

"We've been together for two years, I'm sure if they were going to find me they would have by now." You agreed with him on the part but it still didn't stop you from worrying, you didn't want to be the reason that he got in trouble at work and you didn't want to upset Army in any way either.

"Here." You handed him a spare key to the apartment and he stared down at the small key with a frown on his face,

"Front door key, for when you're working late and I won't be awake when you come around." He smiled at the gesture and handed you a key,

"To the dorms." You handed the key back to him but he insisted you keep it, placing it in the palm of your hand and nodding that he wanted you to have it. He wanted you to feel like you were always welcome at the dorms because you were, everyone loved you and you loved them.

"I'll see you tonight, I love you." He kissed your temple and opened the front door, as soon as the door opened you were greeted by yelling and flashing cameras. People all over your front garden asking so many different questions you couldn't quite catch what they were trying to say or ask you. You were starting to get nervous because no only were you on the photos but so was your house number and your address, was it going to be that easy for everyone to find you now?

"Y-Yoongi?" He looked back at you and then over at the cameras he put his bags down on the floor going back to your doorstep and reaching for you, kissing you passionately in front of everyone not caring about hiding it anymore. The camera shutter noise slowed to a stop and he pulled away looking at them all,

"Any more questions?" They all stayed silent awkwardly looking away from what had just unfolded in front of them and Yoongi walked over to the car that was waiting shouting that he would see you later and he'd have someone come to the apartment and make sure no one was going to be on the property anymore.

"Bye! I love you!" He screamed trying to add to the effect that he was in a serious and committed relationship with you, you, on the other hand, were getting more and more nervous the longer people stared at you.

"I love you too." Once the car was gone you slammed and locked the front door too scared to do anything until Yoongi came back from work, but he was texting you the whole day keeping you updated on when a guard would come to check on you.

(*CHOKES*) 

Hoseok:

Much like Hoseok, you were known to be the friendliest person that Army knew. They would always come up to you if you were alone in the shopping mall but if you were with friends or family they would keep their distance not wanting to interrupt your time with them.

"Not to alarm you," You frowned looking up to see someone you didn't know standing there, she was wearing a BTS shirt so you knew she was Army, she had a worried expression on her face.

"There's a photographer and he's been trailing you for twenty minutes." You glanced over your shoulder to see a man following you and taking photographs. It was nothing new since they normally followed you and Hoseok together but you had no idea why he was following you alone.

"Why are they following me? He's not here, he's not even in Korea right now." You groaned walking closer to the Army who introduced herself and you began walking around the shop getting to know her and waiting for the man to leave but as more time went on more photographers joined him.

"Maybe there's something they know that I don't." You laughed, another girl walked over to you and asked what was happening when she saw you and another Army together.

"Paparazzi." You told her as she looked over at them,

"Do you deal with them a lot?" You shook your head biting down on your lip,

"They only normally come to us when Hobi is here, I'll message him." As you were typing a message to him the cameras began flashing and you frowned looking up to see them all aiming their cameras at you carefully and making sure to get you on screen.

"Back exit." The girls said in unison pulling you out of the shop and into the streets,

"I know a small cafe down the road, we can sit at the back?" You nodded in agreement and followed along with them in a rush to get away from photographers.

You'd been sitting in the cafe with both of the girls for an hour when Hoseok finally replied to your frantic texts asking him for advice on what to do,

"Hobi said they're trying to see what I'm like without him, what I do when he's not here and I should just go about business as usual." You laughed putting your phone on the table and ordering another coffee and something for the girls to have while they were sitting with you.

"Business as usual? As though you aren't being watched on your every move?" You giggled at them and shook your head glancing over at the window to see a couple of photographers still standing outside and waiting to get a glimpse of you again.

"They'll get over it soon and leave." You laughed getting up and going to the counter to order you all something to eat since you were going to be there for a while.

Namjoon:

"Namjoon! We could get seen!" You giggled as he pulled you over to the Louvre, he'd brought you along to France for the weekend since he had some time off. He wanted to spend it all with you and so he flew you out to the most romantic place he could think of, you thought you were going to be cramped up inside a hotel the whole time but were surprised when he told you he had the whole weekend planned out. Today you were dressed in baseball caps and hoodies trying to seem like normal tourists and not Kim Namjoon and his partner, he was taking you around to different tourist spots and getting photographs for your family and friends as well as your Instagram.

"It'll be fun." He chuckled holding your hand and buying you both tickets and heading inside of the giant glass building with your hand interlocked with his,

"No hats inside sir." The man at the door said in a thick French accent as he stared at you and Namjoon, you were sure it would be fine since you were indoors anyway and if anyone inside spotted you it was no big deal. You both took your hats off and walked inside you were over the moon by everything around you, it was hard to believe that you were standing in the middle of the Louvre building with the love of your life. You;'d expressed to Namjoon about your affection for the Louvre and just France, in general, it had always been your most loved place in the world, beside Namjoon's arms of course. But France was your dream holiday destination and thanks to Namjoon you were finally getting to live it out.

"Joonie this is insane." You whispered as you walked around viewing everything inside, translating some of the plaques for Namjoon since his French wasn't as good as his English and then going over to more things and being amazed by everything you saw.

(X)

Once you both came out of the Louvre you were greeted by flashing lights like the ones Namjoon got whenever he went to the airport.

"Someone must have told them we were here." He told you taking your hand and running through the crowds of photographers who were all yelling different questions at you both to see what was happening. You were glad you'd worn converse shoes instead of anything else, the comfiest shoes to run in. You'd dealt with all of this before when your relationship was first revealed to the public but Namjoon knew how you got around big crowds and he didn't want you to have to go through all of it again,

"This way." You laughed pulling him down a small alleyway and holding him against a wall, no one bothered looking down there when they ran past and you giggled up at Namjoon who was sweating and panting more than he ever did on stage.

"This wasn't on the plan for today." He chuckled looking down at you as you stared up at him, he ran his hand along your cheek and smiled as you blushed at the small action,

"Cute." He whispered to you before leaning down and connecting your lips together, you blushed and wrapped your arms around his neck standing on your tiptoes so you could kiss him back properly. A camera flash went off and the sound alerted you that you weren't alone anymore,

"Run?" You questioned looking at him and down the other side of the alleyway, it was a clear shot and if you ran fast enough you could make it to a taxi bay and getaway.

"Run." He confirmed squeezing your hand and pulling you along with him laughing as the cameras continued to get photos of you both being so happy together.

Jimin:

Jimin had been texting you all morning warning you that there would be photographers at the airport and to be ready when you got there for them. Your relationship had been out in the open from the moment it started three years ago so you were used to the cameras by now but he still liked to let you be prepared first. You had a cap and mask ready to cover your face after the long flight you'd just had and you were ready to go home to your shared apartment with Jimin and sleep all day.

"Are you waiting inside or outside?" You questioned him over the phone and a pair of hands on your waist made you scream,

"Jimin!" You whined turning around and hugging him tightly, no photographers were allowed inside and you debated staying there with him for an hour before going out into the freezing cold Korean air and flashing lights for a while.

"We have to leave at some point." You nodded in agreement but dragged him over to the shops that were inside,

"Stay here I saw something I really want to get first." Jimin groaned reminding you of your evergrowing collection of items that you got whenever you left or landed in Korea. It had been growing since your first trip out and he was running out of room in the apartment you shared to store everything.

You came back out clutching a bag in your hands and smiling, hiding it so he couldn't take a look inside.

"Let me see." You pulled it in front of you jogging ahead of him so he couldn't grab it from your hands but he caught up to you leading to a chase out of the airport and in front of the cameras.

"No." You giggled as he took the bag from your hands and looked inside revealing the stuffed BT21 teddies that were inside. It was all of the newest line of stuffed animals that they had released and you hadn't gotten them until now. You giggled at him as he stared at you with a playful glare knowing you had nowhere to put them when you got home and they would probably take pride spot on the double bed in your room. Looking around for the black SUV that would always come to pick you both up you frowned now spotting it,

"Probably had to move around before he got a ticket," Jimin said as you both continued to act as normal as possible in front of the cameras, it was silent except for a couple of them asking for you to turn and look at them and another bunch asking how your flight was. Once the car pulled up you both began walking towards it and a photographer knocked over your bag,

"Sorry!" She began ranting but you assured her it was okay and bent down to pick everything back up and put them inside, people capturing the moment that you were being nice to them and then getting into the car. Stories ran about how kind you were to the photographer who had walked into you and Jimin was smiling at how nice the articles were about you, it had always been that way though. There was never a bad article about you anywhere.

Taehyung:

Taehyung and you sat across from each other in the cafe and you stared down at the food you had ordered suddenly feeling uneasy.

"You okay?" You nodded trying not to think about it too much, Taehyung was used to this kind of life but you weren't. You weren't used to being followed around by people with cameras all of the time and they were currently stationed outside of the cafe trying to get photos.

"What is it?" He asked he knew how to read you like a book so he knew there was something wrong the moment that you looked at him or rather didn't look at him. You were never a good liar so to avoid it you would stare down at the floor or your hands to stop him from getting the truth from you but he caught onto that trick soon.

"The cameras...They don't make you uncomfortable?" He shook his head and then realised how you must have been feeling. Your relationship hadn't been out in the open for long and you were nervous that you would do something to make them angry,

"I can ask them for privacy if you want?" You shook your head knowing it would probably make them angry and make you seem like the bad guy.

"No, it's fine." You lied trying to seem a little better than you were but he knew you weren't okay and so he moved to sit beside you instead of across from you. Slightly blocking the views so the cameras wouldn't reach your face as much and you smiled at him thanking him and reaching for a chip from your plate.

"Where do you want to go after this?" You asked looking at him and smiling, he'd been wanting to do some shopping before he went away on tour but he could tell how uncomfortable you were being out in front of the cameras,

"We'll go home and watch some movies," He suggested moving some hair from your face but you shook your head telling him you would be fine as long as he didn't leave you alone anywhere,

"We should try that couples painting class tomorrow though, I saw it on the cafe board." You said as you remembered seeing it on the board on the way in. You were so lost in conversation with Taehyung you'd forgotten about the cameras that were all taking photos of you both laughing and joking together, photos of you kissing his cheek and him staring lovingly into your eyes acting like a really sweet couple from one of the dramas you watch all the time.

"I heard there's a new book shop down the road, we should check that out too." He told you remembering that he'd promised to pick up something new for Namjoon to read while he was out and about.

"Sure," You told him as you got up from the small sofa you were sitting on in the cafe, you both began walking towards the exit when you got nervous again. He linked your hands together and gave you a squeeze, promising you it would be fine and that he was there if you got too nervous for it.

"Y/n! Tae! What are your plans for the day!?" They all started to yell at you and Taehyung could tell you were getting more and more anxious so he turned to face them and began to ask for a little more privacy with you, telling them that he just wanted to be alone for you a while not mentioning that it was you that was uncomfortable and they all agreed to back off and leave you both alone.

Jungkook:

The paparazzi knew how shy you got whenever they would follow you around with Jungkook, you would constantly hold onto Jungkook for support and whenever they directed questions at you you would turn into a blushing mess hiding further into your hoodies or into Jungkook's arms so they tried to make it as easy for you as possible.

"You going to be okay?" Jungkook questioned, you were sitting in the black SUV outside the airport. You were going home for the holidays and everyone had caught wind that he would be dropping you off at the airport so they wanted to get some photos.

"Yeah." You lied looking out of the window, they were all standing on the other side of the road like they did whenever the boys and other idols were travelling. It was making you anxious thinking about going out there but you were trying to remember what Hoseok had told you he thought about when he was walking through them all.

"I'll be there the whole time." You nodded and he took your hand in his opening the door and letting you get out first and then getting out behind you. Reminding you that everything was fine and you were going to be okay.  You just had to smile and be kind, you were kind anyway so you just had to put it on display for everyone to see, Hoseok had been giving you tips on handling the paparazzi and you were going to put them to good use.

"Have a nice flight Y/n." Some of the photographers said as you walked past them all they were still taking your photos but they were respecting that you needed a little distance because you weren't used to it, you were smiling at them as you walked hand in hand with Jungkook dragging your suitcase behind you as you did so you didn't have a mask on like you normally did when you did this.

"Happy Holidays." Another greeted and you bowed to them all smiling brightly whenever they would talk to you,

"Happy Holidays to you all too." You said before going into the airport and slowing your walk down to a stroll, Jungkook smiled at you and told you how awesome he thought it was that you decided to try and talk to them. You had been trying to get a little comfier with it since it was how your life was going to be whenever you were around Jungkook.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @btsiguess-kpop 

[valkyrieskwad]

here ya go, have some like, awkward college baby gays.

__

when sam planned out her apology, the last person she expected to answer kara's door was lena. as in, lena from the halloween party who she had sex with. but, there she is. wearing nothing but kara's flannel, looking pretty and fucking soft. this is the first time sam's seen her up close in good lighting, not drunk off her ass, and all she can focus on are her eyes. they're different colors.

"hello?" lena says after a second.

right. "is kara here?" sam asks. it's too aggressive, but she feels a little off-kilter looking at lena. she's here to apologize, though, she reminds herself. "can you tell her i'm not here to fight, and i know she hears me."

"she's actually not here," lena says, stepping out of the way to pull the door open wider. "but you're welcome to come in and wait for her. it's good to see you. you look really good."

"you remember me?" sam asks, like a fucking idiot. lena laughs a little. "right," she gushes, scratching at the back of her neck. she steps inside the room and lets lena shut the door behind her. it feels easier talking when she's not making eye contact. "i didn’t mean it that way. it's just that you're—"

"don't say something dumb," lena cuts her off. "i like you, don't ruin it."

sam fights the urge to repeat you like me incredulously. instead, she walks over to take a seat on kara's bed and tries not to think too much about sitting on kara's bed. where kara probably had sex with lena. maybe even right before this. of course, she's still managing to think about it. "so, you and kara. you a thing or something?"

lena shrugs, leans her hip against the standard edition dorm room desk. "or something."

there's a really awkward pause. then, "cool," is what sam finally says.

lena smiles, eyes glistening in a way that makes sam feel transparent. she clears her throat. "i’d love to be, but i’m pretty sure she's holding out for a thing with you, and i somehow got caught in the middle of this."

"what?" sam coughs. the only thing between kara and her is animosity; maybe even hate. she doesn't even think about kara outside of that. in fact, she spends most of her day Not Thinking About Kara. "did she say that?"

it comes out more curious than she intends it, which lena definitely notices. "more or less."

sam can't tell if lena's fucking with her, but the room feels too hot now. "in those words? like, she likes me?"

that one even comes out hopeful. lena's picking up every little nuance; sam can see it on her face. "you can discuss it when she gets back."

"no, i -" she shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, not sure if her heart or brain or soccer season can handle it. "i'm just here to apologize for being the reason we lost today. i can admit when i fucked up."

"you should have passed the ball," lena points out. "she had a clear shot."

"i know." there's another long pause, sam tapping the tips of her fingers together, lena looking content to watch her fidget. sam's the one to break the silence. "i don't like her, you know? we aren't - it's not like that. she doesn't like me. it's just a rivalry."

"she called me sam while we were having sex last week. she told me about you two, what happened first year."

sam's cheeks heat up so fast she doesn't even bother trying to hide she's blushing. she's lost count of the number of times she's gotten off to remembering kara's voice in her ear. she hates herself for it. "we had sex orientation weekend, and then the next day at soccer practice she barely looked at me. she just kept trying to show me up. so i kept trying to show her up, and now we're here."

lena actually laughs, then rolls her eyes like sam is being ridiculous. "that happened three years ago, and you still haven't talked about it?"

"what's there to talk about?"

"i don't know, her moaning your name during sex, maybe."

"whatever," sam mumbles.

"whatever," lena mocks. "i'm pretty sure she's only interested in me because she saw us together."

"don't tell me you actually believe that," sam frowns. "even if she is interested in me, there's no way she's not interested in you."

"maybe," lena says. then the door lock clicks and the handle turns, and suddenly there's kara. too soon and too unexpectedly, with her joggers and her loose t-shirt and the dumb way she staggers when she walks inside a door. she's carrying two bags from the downstairs mini mart and a subway sandwich. hair tied up in a messy ponytail. lips too fucking pink.

sam freezes. she forgot what exactly she came here to do.

"she came to apologize," lena tells kara, and sam realizes, awkwardly, they've just been staring at each other. kara's eyes are so blue, it's not fucking fair. sam feels more undressed now than she did the last time she was on kara's bed. "and, don't get me wrong, i don't think that's a bad place to start, but i told her you two should probably talk about more than just tonight or losing the game. especially since, you know, you can't keep her name out of your mouth."

"lee," kara says, calm, like she's fond enough of lena she's skipped shocked or upset and landed head-first on acceptance. "you didn't."

"i did, and she blushed, now discuss," lena gestures. "this is almost making up for my favorite show being on hiatus."

"we're not entertainment," kara pouts.

"not with that attitude," lena smiles. "but i believe in you. you can do it."

"i'm just here to - i'm sorry," sam says, then she stands up, keeping her eyes on the floor.

she's fucking glad for it, too, because she's pretty sure her string snaps when kara sighs. "sit back down, please. she's right, you know? even though we should talk about which information is not okay to disclose." lena whispers sorry. sam sits back down. she looks up just in time to watch kara glide the couple steps between them and plop down on the bed next to her, so close their thighs knock together. sam tries not to think about it. "i guess lena let the cat out of the bag, so no need to tiptoe around it."

"you still like me, so what?" sam says. she feels defensive.

kara carves right through it, though; first by blinking at her silently, then by opening one of the mini mart bags and offering sam a pint of mango talenti. "i do," kara says, slowly. she glances up at lena like she's checking if that's okay. lena's still smiling so sam supposes it is. it feels like she's in the twilight zone. she just wanted to apologize, but instead, she's doing whatever the fuck this is. she takes the ice cream and twists the cap off. kara relaxes a little. "that isn't to say we should do something about it, just that i don't actually dislike you."

sam wants to do something about it. it's her first thought. she won't say that. "what do you want me to say?"

kara looks at lena again. lena rolls her eyes. "you can say you like her, too. you can say you don't. you can say you want to be friends. anything, really. just don't lie, or worse - say nothing."

"i don't dislike you, either," sam says, fast enough she can't stop herself.

then she ducks her head and eats four scoops of the ice cream while kara stares at her profile. "cool," kara says, and then there's nothing else for a long while again. finally, after what feels like forever, kara huffs and asks, "you want to watch iron chef?"

"what?" sam asks, looking up, halfway to a brain freeze.

"lena and i have been marathoning it," kara explains. "it's what we do after, um. hanging out."

"i know you have sex," sam says flatly.

"is that okay?" kara asks.

it catches sam off guard. her opinion shouldn't matter, so she says as much. "does it matter what i think?"

"it does to me," kara says, then, "since we're being honest."

"i don't mind," sam says. it's not a lie, but it's also not a full truth. she's not jealous of lena; she likes lena. she's mostly just jealous that lena gets to have a piece of kara and she doesn't. "it's not like i can compete with lena."

that one catches kara off guard. she just stares at sam for a while. sam goes back to her ice cream. "you can, but you don't have to," kara says after a bit. "feel free to interpret that whichever way you want."

"i don't know what that means," sam mumbles.

"it means i can stay or i can leave," lena explains. "either way, you two are hanging out tonight. this isn't a competition."

oh, sam thinks. "oh," she says. "you can stay if you're good with that."

so lena stays.

they turn on iron chef then, kara squeezed between sam and lena, their backs against the wall on the twin-sized dorm bed. it feels fucking ridiculous, but sam settles into it, pressed against kara's shoulder. lena's asleep with her head on kara's lap by the time they announce the culinary curveball. sam can't stop watching kara's hand, tracing lena's ear, fingers snaking through her hair.

"does she always fall asleep?" she asks.

"like clockwork," kara says, "but she's not satisfied if we don't watch, then i get so caught up in it i can't sleep."

"that's cute."

"she is."

"i know," sam says, then immediately wants to take it back. "sorry, i didn't mean - i just. i really don't mind you dating, i swear."

"that's good," kara smiles, then moves her free hand from resting on her own thigh to resting on sam's. she doesn't even take her eyes off the laptop screen in front of them. sam feels like she's having a fucking heart attack. "this show is always so intense."

"you're touching me," sam says. she can't pretend it's not happening. "are you making a move?"

thankfully, kara just squeezes her thigh instead of moving her hand away. sam's not quite ready for her to go yet, but she can't sit here with them not addressing it. "should i not?"

it's not even a challenge; it's an honest question. sam wants to give an honest answer, but deflecting feels better. "is she okay with it?"

"yeah, she's fine," kara responds, thumbing over lena's ear as she says it. "pretty sure she has everything she wants right here."

"well, in that case," sam says, losing her thought briefly when kara squeezes her thigh again. "i guess it's fine."

"cool," kara says, so they watch the rest of the episode like that.

when the countdown starts to play another, everything feels tense. they're both tired from the game today, they should sleep, but they can't all fit on this bed. sam will have to go, probably. she's not ready to go. "hey," she starts, settling her hand on top of kara's.

"we can watch another," kara says right away. lena's out hard at this point, face smashed against kara's belly, snoring lightly. sam wants to be that comfortable, but she's jittery just touching kara's hand. "unless you want to go."

"not yet," sam admits.

kara flips her hand over, letting sam thumb over her palm, play with her fingers as the next episode starts up. "good," she says. "i'm not ready for you to go yet."

[passivenovember]

If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields.

Billy's job at Willowbrook Elementary is the only reason he puts up with this weather at all.

His hatred for winter, a season which hardly existed when he taught in the Valley, morphs and becomes something violent on the first Monday after Christmas break.

He wakes up feeling like his toes have gone missing, frozen black and blue with the cold, and after his phone tells him it's below zero outside, with wind-chill, his heart stops beating.

Hawkins is -10 degrees, to be precise.

And it leaves him feeling like that's gotta be illegal, or. He could for sure call all the scientists on Earth and have a law passed that clarifies: those born and raised in a Southern climate get a free pass on days when Hell is actively freezing over.

But it's not snowing today. And all the ice on the street has been scraped into terrible, disgusting drifts that block his driveway, and Hopper would immediately call bullshit. All, gonna have to suck it up if you wanna live here, buttercup.

So Billy decides to be an adult, or whatever. He spends another five minutes on his phone definitely not stalking his ex Instagram before rolling out of bed to get dressed.

And, like.

Even his underwear drawer is stiff from the cold so Billy decides to bundle the fuck up--a trick he learned from Max last fall, during the coldest year Indiana had ever seen. He manages to stack five layers in total; one pretty pink thermal set just brushing his his skin and a button down shirt to stave off the goosebumps. A sweater and jeans for professionalism. One Grateful Dead hoodie, because it makes him feel like he's not a total sell out, and a thick winter coat, sent special from the snow capped mountains of California this Christmas.

It still smells like his mom's pikake lei perfume.

Billy tries not to think about that, of home, on a day when he'd give his left nut for a ray of sunshine.

Instead, he spends ten minutes filling his thermos with coffee. Boiling the rice milk more than once so it'll stay warm on the ride across town. He sticks his pinky under the lip after his third go, and fuck that shit is so hot it will burn his mouth tomorrow, before checking the weather app again for closures.

Hoping against hope that something has changed in the last five minutes.

Of course, nothing has.

The superintendent believes that everyone in Hawkins is somehow used to temperatures that makes their eyelids freeze shut in the thirty second walk to the car in the morning. Billy jams a knit cap on his head and seriously considers calling in.

A last ditch effort to quell the rising fury in his veins, that like.

He's gonna have to scrape his windows, and freeze his dick off, and deal with the neighbor.

The one who looks like he doesn't mind the cold so much because he carries the sun with him, fucking asshole.

People shouldn't be wandering the streets when their eyelids could freeze shut, right?

Billy checks his phone one more time, frowning at a text from Joyce to pick up some coffee on your way in, and tosses his bag over his shoulder before he can change his mind.

--

It's so much worse than expected.

Billy's lungs seize up on his second intake of fresh air because no one should be huffing sulfur or gaseous ice or whatever the fuck this shit is first thing in the morning. On a Monday. The first one after Christmas break, and.

"God damn, holy shit, holy shit,"  Billy bounces the whole way to the Camaro, breath coming in short, comical bursts of steam that make his nose run. He swipes dramatically at his face, struggling to get his keys into the lock while balancing his thermos on one arm and his messenger bag on the other.

Billy's in the middle of forcing the door open, its hinges are frozen solid with ice goddammit, when Steve fucking Harrington appears like a cloud on the wind.

"Howdy neighbor," Steve says. Like they're cowboys in a shitty film from the 1970s. The wind kicks a lock of brown hair into Harrington's face and he shivers. "Wow, it's really blowing out here, huh?"

Midwesterner's love doing that.

Pointing out the obvious.

Billy grumbles a response, flinging his car door open and jamming the keys into the ignition.

Steve's saying something.

Talking like always, about his cat or maybe the beer they keep saying they'll have together, and generally Billy puts up with it but not today. He isn't going to freeze to death for a pair of legs.

The Camaro roars to life, clearly pissed at having to work on such a disgusting day, and. Alright. Letting your car "warm up," is something so Midwestern Billy can't even talk about it.

It takes him all of two minutes to scrape his windows, electing to carve holes in each wall of ice rather than clear the whole thing. The metal handle of the scraper Max got him feels like the ninth circle of hell against the peachy skin of his fingers.

He should've bought some mittens.

Joyce is always saying he needs mittens, he should've asked for some--

Billy tosses the scraper into his back seat and climbs in, slamming the door shut behind him and cranking the heat up to high. Steve's watching from next to the fence in a fucking pea coat, and a scarf with care bears on it and.

Nothing else.

Fucking asshole.

Steve waves at him, like; hey I'm talking to you. Frantically, like the mouse Mr. Bane caught last week is important.

But Billy's too busy trying to back out of the driveway with five layers of shit restricting his movement. He cranks the music up and cautiously pulls onto the street. Nice and smooth like he's seen Steve do effortlessly, even with three inches of ice on the ground. Fucking asshole.

Billy makes it halfway before he hits something.

The wind kicks hair into his face as he assesses the damage.

"You should've scraped your driveway last night." Steve says helpfully.

He's got a cigarette hanging from his lips, stark in contrast to the weird home made scarf he's got folded around his neck. Billy tries not to think about Steve's lips as he makes his way to the back of the Camaro to see that, yup.

Of course.

His baby is stuck in the snow. Billy kicks the tire. Like that'll fix anything.

"That's not gonna fix anything." Steve says, leaning against the fence.

"Jesus, fuck. I know, Steve." Billy scrubs a hand across his face, gesturing to the Care Bear scarf. "Why the hell are you wearing that thing, you look like a fruit."

"I am a fruit."

"Well you look like the whole goddamn bowl, pretty boy." Billy digs around for a cigarette. "My kindergarteners don't even fuck with the Care Bears enough to own scarves." Billy squints, assessing Steve from head to toe, delighting in the awkward squirm of his limbs. He clicks his tongue, disappointed. "Couldn't look any fruiter if you tried."

Steve shrugs his shoulders, like. Don't yell at me, this isn't my fault.

And okay.

He's cute.

Billy gets struck by that every time he sees the guy, all over again, like. His profile is perfect. Sharp nose, pretty eyes. Thick lips.

Steve holds out a cigarette.

Billy takes it.

"One of my residents made it for me. He's learning how to flat pattern." Harrington says shyly. "Well, he made it for his grand daughter, but. It turned out worse than he expected so I offered to take it."

Billy squints. "The fuck does that mean?"

"Just means I was trying to be nice--"

"No, the." Billy grins in spite of himself. "The flat patterning, what's that?"

Steve shrugs again. "I'm not sure, I think it's like. A sewing term. Or something." A pretty blush the color of Steve's scarf spreads across the bridge of his nose. It looks like strawberry ice cream and Billy.

Has to look away.

"My mom sews," Billy says gruffy. "I've never heard her say that."

"Well, maybe she drapes?"

Billy squints again. "What?"

"Draping. That's another thing people do--"

Billy stamps the cigarette out and kicks his tire again. Steve jolts, like. Billy tried to kick him or something, which just makes the situation worse.

"God, they should've cancelled classes." Billy states. Well, screams, to no one in particular. "Who wants to go to work in the snow, who fucking. Likes this white bullshit?"

Steve leans against the fence and looks thoughtful. "I love the snow."

"You're not helping."

"You asked."

"No, I didn't." Billy shoots back. He digs his cellphone out and shakes his head. "Why are you still here, Harrington? Don't you have old people to take care of?"

Steve chuckles again. Light, like Christmas bells. "Don't you have screaming brats to teach?"

"My car's kinda stuck in the snow, you fucking dick." Billy's so focused on trying to order a lyft that he doesn't waste time on pleasantries. He expects that to be the end of it, when the wind picks up and he swears again, but. Steve just moves closer.

"Let me drive you." Steve says.

And.

The moment sort of hangs there.

In the two years that Billy's lived next to the guy, they've never hung out. Never house sat for each other, never spoken outside the occasional could you make sure your idiot friends don't block my driveway, and empty promises to grab a beer sometime.

So the offer catches him off guard.

Billy glances up from his phone, confused, to find Steve looking everywhere but at him. Harrington's shifting his weight, like. He's fucking nervous, or something.

Or maybe hoping Billy will say no because he's just being polite.

Billy glares.

Of course he's just being neighborly. Charitable. That's what Midwestern assholes do.

Billy waves his phone in the air, like, "I'm ordering a lyft." And it comes out sharper. More aggressive than he means it too, but Steve doesn't seem to notice.

"Just ride with me, it's on the way."

Billy points at the screen. "Jason will be here in ten minutes."

"What's Jason got that I don't have?" Harington quips, and.

Billy just wants shit to go back to normal. He shakes his head again, "Nah, 's okay, pretty boy. Thanks anyway." Before turning back to his phone like he's got important shit to worry about.

Steve stands.

Stares.

Waits, for longer than is necessary, before clearing his throat. "Okay, well. Happy first day back." He says.

And if Billy didn’t know any better he'd say Steve sounds almost.

Disappointed.

--

When Billy gets off of work that night the snow is gone from his driveway.

--

Billy still has bad days.

They always start before dawn. With the claws of his nightmare leaving scratches down the lining of his throat. It's like Billy's carrying an anchor around his neck, or his veins are filled with playdough the color of the sun on those afternoons. He feels lazy and sluggish and like if someone looks at him for too long he'll break. Snap and crackle, like an open flame against fresh skin.

Billy still has bad days but they don't come unless he's been slipping for a while. Like forgetting to take his medication, or not writing his letter every night before bed.

The one to Neil, that his therapist says will help him work through the last of the road blocks that stand in the way of, "ultimate healing."

Billy used to think it was horseshit.

But Neil. Everything that happened, everything that still happens--when Billy goes home for Christmas, or when Susan calls and he can hear the slur of hate on the other end of the line--is standing in the way of something.

There are so many letters.

So much he wants to say.

Written on anything Billy can find, like. Napkins and the backs of take out menus--old drawings that the kids send home with him after Art class on Fridays.

The pages are kept in a binder.

His therapist says it's important to decorate the binder with, like. Stuff that makes him feel good. Words and phrases, stickers, pictures of the people he loves and drawings of all his favorite things. The folder is supposed to act as a visual reminder of the blanket of love that surrounds him, or something.

Melvalds only had brown folders when he went to pick his up, so.

The folder is brown. Disgusting.

And so far the only decorations he's been able to stomach are one of those fancy stickers from Redbubble that depicts his favorite episode of Daria, and a picture of him and Maxine with underwear on their heads.

Billy thinks it could be sad to some people.

That a poor, little abused boy only has two things in life that protect him from the shadow which falls with the setting sun, but it's the truth. Life is hard and fucked up. Billy has trouble letting people close, letting people in, so he sticks with the basics. The tried and true.

Maxine and his gravity bong.

Billy Hargrove is a simple man.

--

So it's two weeks after Steve shovels his driveway and Billy tells his therapist, like. "This fucking guy just. Did something nice for me."

And she clearly wonders what's wrong with him. "Did you say thank you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," Billy tries not to get defensive about shit these days, because. It's only a hop-skip-and a jump from defensiveness to downright aggression and Megan, his well meaning shrink, doesn't deserve that even on her most annoying days.

His leg bounces under the table, thwacking against its mahogany edge loud enough that Megan can hear it over the fucking phone, so she says, "Billy. Stop."

Because they have a deal about nervous ticks.

Billy is supposed to say his safe word when he starts to feel anxious, but.

He fucking hates that shit. Hates being babied. Hates feeling like he's a goddamn basket case that needs to be rooted in reality when his trauma rears its ugly head. Billy smiles, the whole thing falling flat against his face. "I'm stopping."

Megan sighs. "Why haven't you thanked Steve for his act of kindness?"

"Because, like." Billy's shaking his leg again. Softer this time; it's a secret. "How do I know he isn't trying to, fucking. Get information out of me. Or out me to the community, or. Make fun of the way I'm a grown man who can't shovel his own driveway after a snowstorm--"

"I think you're internalizing your fears, Billy."

"Yeah, no shit." He snaps. Billy feels bad for half a second but then she's giggling, like she always does, which makes him feel less like the big bad wolf and more like one of the three little pigs. The guy with the straw, maybe?

Billy sighs, scrubbing at his face. "What does that even mean?"

Megan makes a noise on the other end of the line, like. In the six months that Billy's been in therapy he should've learned this by now.

Dude's got a short attention span, sue him.

And, sure enough. "Twice a week we meet over the phone and you don't know that internalizing your fears means you're trying to write the ending to a story you haven't even read yet?"

"Like, uh," Billy says intelligently. "What's that shit you're always saying? About seeing a book on the shelf and--"

"Guessing the ending. Yup, that's right." Megan sounds pleased. Billy ignores the bloom of happiness in his chest, because like. He doesn't really deserve it. She doesn't give him time to dwell, though. "Steve did something nice for you. Maybe he has suspicious intent--"

Billy sucks in a breath, like.

Dramatic. Loud enough that Megan snorts and says, "Hold on, you're jumping to conclusions again."

Billy really fucking.

Hates how perceptive she can be.

Megan keeps talking and Billy listens, because he pays her after all. "If you're really worried that his intentions are cloudy, do something nice for him in return."

"Something nice," Billy repeats. Like he's never heard of such a concept. "Something nice, like. Buy him flowers?"

Megan snorts. "Do you want to buy him flowers?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"Because you--" His therapist sighs. Billy embraces the feeling it gives him, yanking her chain a little bit. "Listen. I don't know this Steve person, and I've never heard you talk about him beyond this beer you're supposed to have together, like. Never. But has he ever given you a reason to think he's out to hurt you?"

Billy thinks back over two years and a million one-dimensional interactions.

Steve never loses his temper.

Not when Billy calls to have the cars that block his driveway towed, not when Billy bitches about the daisy bushes shedding into his yard in the fall, and Steve always picks up Mr. Bane's cat shit from Billy's front porch when the Gremlin actually goes outside.

Always with a smile and a sweet little, I think Mr. B likes you.

And, like.

It was pretty nice of Steve to offer Billy a ride that morning.

And shovel his driveway after work, just because he knew Billy probably wouldn't do it.

The whole thing, it. Fills Billy with something he can't quite express, a warmth he only ever feels when Max calls a dozen times to remind him to eat dinner when he sends a few intense messages.

Megan takes his silence, as always, like a breakthrough.

"So," She says, clearly satisfied. "Same time next week?"

--

Billy spends three days waiting for Steve to make it easy for him.

Because Harrington's a home owner, and there's always something, right? A problem he needs help with, like. A leaky pipe that needs fixed, a cup of sugar for a recipe that he didn't account for, ghosts in the attic. Typical HOA bullshit.

Billy stares out his window at the lovely split level next door and decides he'll take anything, do anything, to get this fucking anchor of guilt off his back for the whole driveway situation. The opportunity never presents itself.

The ducks never fall in a row.

Steve just leaves the house every morning, same time as Billy, same as always, with a gentle Howdy neighbor. And a smile tugging at his pretty pink lips, hair perfect and windswept because he's a fucking asshole and it only takes two days.

Forty-eight hours before Billy's hatching a plan to pay Harrington back and inventing problems to solve, like some sort of demonic Bob the Builder.

He calls Max on Thursday and comes up with a list. Something tangible, like breaking Steve's garage window with a ski ball. Or trapping Mr. Bane in a sweater and pretending like he's gone missing so Steve will have to round up a search party, but.

Billy knows Megan would call that instigating, antagonizing, and causing trouble, which Billy's trying not to do anymore.

So he brings up flowers again, because.

Fuck it--maybe he's wanted to see Steve behind a bouquet of Lilies of the Valley for months now.

And Max goes all soft.

And quiet, too, before whispering, "I'm really proud of you, you know? For getting better."

Then suddenly Billy can't breathe because there's a lump in his throat.

Because he is trying to get better. To live honestly, to lead with love--whatever hippie-dippie bullshit Megan is always spoon feeding him, so.

With Max's blessing, Billy's about to, like. Knock on Steve's door with a plate of pot brownies and a shitty thanks for being a decent human card when Mr. Bane leaves a dead bird on Billy's porch, the third one in a month, and Billy hatches an idea.

--

Steve's front door is yellow.

Like. Sunshine yellow. Valley girl yellow.

Which Billy used to think was charming but now thinks is kind of annoying, when coupled with Steve's perpetually sunny disposition. And okay. Maybe it sort of pokes and prods at that piece of him that's always missing home.

Maybe it makes him a little bit sad, like. He'll never really feel at peace anywhere else.

But before Billy can dwell on it, or raise his fist to knock on the door, Steve's opening it and preparing to step through. He's using his foot to stop Mr. Bane from running out into the yard so he doesn't see Billy right away, which.

Also means he's going somewhere.

Which inherently means Billy's caught him at a bad time. Billy holds the paper bag closer to his chest and feels the words bubbling up before he can practice his breathing, or. Stop them. Because this is his third biggest fear after arguments and spiders.

"I've caught you at a bad time, I'm sorry, I'll just come back la--"

Steve breaks out into a grin so big. So bright, that it rivals anything Billy's ever seen before.

"Howdy, neighbor!" Steve says.

And Billy shifts nervously from one foot to the other, like. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's not a--"

"Because I can come back later." Billy nods, already turning on his heel to escape, and like. Fly into the sun. "Or not at all. I can just mail it to you, that's. Yeah, I'll just stick it in the post or something."

Steve grabs his elbow.

Billy looks at the hand on his elbow, and down at Steve’s feet. There aren’t any shoes or anything, so.

Billy's overreacting.

Fuck. He swallows, raising his eyes with caution to see Steve smiling again. Even wider than before, if that's possible.

Harrington licks his lips. "Whatcha got there?" He says, nodding to the bag, and Steve.

He's wearing glasses today.

Billy feels like someone hit him on the back of the head with a ski ball. Steve looks so soft, in white stripped overalls and a green sweater, that Billy doesn't know whether to fluff him like a pillow or fucking.

Punch him in the face.

Billy holds out the paper bag. "It's for you."

Steve looks at him strangely but he's still smiling, which.

Is good.

Billy thinks it's good but then he knows its good when Steve giggles. "I gathered that. What is it?"

"It's a, uh. You know." Billy tries. "You know one of those things? Where it's, like, a thing but you aren't supposed to know what it is?"

Steve blinks at him, cheeks turning pink like they always do. "A surprise?"

"That's the one." Billy snaps his fingers, like. Ah-ha. Except it isn't a surprise, it's just. "It's a way to say thanks. For the whole," Billy concludes, gesturing vaguely to their front lawns, to. "The driveway."

Steve blushes even harder. "You didn't have to get me a present--"

"It's not a present."

"That was just me trying to be nice." Steve leans against the door jam, eyes searching. "It doesn't call for a--"

"It's not a present." Billy says again. Steve doesn't look like he believes him, so Billy, like. Shoves the paper bag to his chest. "Look, open it now or don't. Fucking, throw it away for all I care, it's fine."

Billy turns on his heel because fuck this.

Fuck trying to pay back nice with nice and fuck Steve for starting this whole debacle to begin with. Billy makes it down one step and then Steve is laughing so hard he can't stand up straight.

Which just makes Billy feel worse, because.

"You're laughing." Billy gapes. "I bring you a present to say thanks for not being an asshole, and you're laughing."

Steve doesn't answer, he just.

Keeps on laughing, and okay.

This is Billy's third greatest fear. After abandonment and fighting. Fists covered in blood--his or someone else's, it doesn't matter. He frowns, turning to leave again when Steve straightens and coughs once into the palm of his hand.

"Thought it wasn't a present," Steve quips, and he's looking at Billy with, like. Sparkly eyes. He shrugs. "I'm not sure what it means."

Billy doesn't get it. "It doesn't have to mean anything--"

"No, like." Steve peers into the bag again, clearly holding back tears. "Why did you get me a bag of dead mice?"

"You can get them at the pet store." Billy says, because. You can, alright? He fiddles with the sleeves of his winter coat. "They're for Mr. Bane."

Steve just stares at him, eyes twinkling like two polished diamonds in his head.

And he's not saying anything, or. Laughing anymore, he's just. Watching Billy fall to pieces on his walkway as he tries to defend himself.

Billy focuses on the clouds that inch across the sky. "Mr. Bane, he's. He's always catching shit, like. Dead shit and leaving it on my porch. I just thought if he wants to eat dead things I can just. Buy him a pack or whatever. Like a normal person."

Steve grins. "You know they do that because they think you can't feed yourself."

Billy wrinkles his nose. "Well I fucking appreciate it, but I don't want to eat dead mice and birds and shit."

Steve chuckles once before staring again.

Like he's memorizing Billy's face, or like. They're having a competition that Billy doesn't know about.

Billy gestures to the bag again. "Would you just accept it, Steve? Please?"

Harrington looks down at the mice in his hands and nods slowly, like the decision is really requiring some thought.

Billy feels stupid.

This was so fucking stupid--

"Sure, Billy." Harrington says. Soft, and. Sweet. "No one's ever given me such a thoughtful gift before, so. Thank you."

And Billy feels like the tin man getting oil on his joints after a year of rusting in the forest, when Steve accepts his weird ass gesture. He nods, mouth lapsing into a thin, unamused line. "Okay, then. See ya 'round," Billy says.

And then he's turning, and.

Leaving.

Before Steve can say anything else.

The clouds inch like caterpillars across the bright winter sky and Steve's walkway seems so much longer on the journey home.

[jenomark]

Part 1

➔Pairing: Idol!Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Renjun, Jeno ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: The taking of Haechan’s virginity + vaginal penetration + emphasis on the use of no condom. ➔Word count: 4,640

➔Summary: He’s an idol, a friend, and now you’re taking his virginity. Beginning your friends-with-benefits relationship with Haechan wasn’t the best idea, but you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

↠  Part 2 

“I’ve got swag.”

   As soon as those words left Haechan’s mouth, you could see the regret spreading across his face. He was trying to appear confident in your presence, like he was just one smirk away from becoming the bad boy of your dreams. Indeed, his face did say Devil, but the way he held his body slightly slumped over in embarrassment spoke volumes about the boy he was inside. Twenty never seemed so scary.

“Is that what you call it?” you asked. You smiled to ease any awkwardness. 

  Haechan poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He looked away from you then, his eyes scanning up and down the street. Five minutes ago, he was meant to be on his way back to the dorms in a car with his manager. Somehow, all of that charm was put to good use and he asked to stay behind to wait with you while your car came; it worked. 

“It’s cold tonight.” he said. He stuck his hands in his jean jacket and hugged them around his front. 

“It’s January.” you said, your voice sarcastic.

   He looked back at you, his face hiding none of his feelings. Confusion. Somehow, an understanding of the person before him. You watched his breath spill out in wisps of smoke, the cold air circling up towards the night sky and disappearing. You were leaning against the wall, just inches apart, but you wanted to take a step forward and warm his lips against yours. It was all you could think about since you first met him.

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he said. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  Haechan laughed. The sound of it must have carried all across the city, winding through the streets and getting trapped in the bare bones of trees. Oh, how you’ve thought about how his mouth would feel pressed against your body as he laughed, the vibrations travelling up your stomach and over your breasts. 

“No,” you said, finally. “ I think you’re very intelligent. You’re probably the most clever man I’ve ever met. You know what you want. Sometimes, you’re too scared to ask for it, but, when you do ask for it, Haechan, it will be beautiful.”

“Do you know what I want?” he asked.

   If his question caught you off-guard, you didn’t show it. Haechan was good at calling you out, just like were at keeping him in check. You watched your car roll up and come to a stop, black and ominous on the curb. You closed the gap between you and Haechan, your face just a whisper away from his. He couldn’t stop looking at your lips, his eyes tracing over every line. You poked your tongue out just a little before you spoke.

“Yes,” you said. “But the question is, are you brave enough?”

 You moved past him, bumping your shoulder against his. You did not look behind you. You could feel his eyes on you, the heat warming you on the cold night. You could have offered him a ride home, opened your car door and let him into your life publicly, but that would get too many people talking. You were always less about talk and more about action. 

  Starting a friends-with-benefits relationship with Haechan wasn’t for the faint of heart. Going into it, you knew it was trouble. You also knew it would take up a lot of your time, cause your friends to notice, and create a dependent attachment with each other. The promise of it ending badly wasn’t a matter of if but when. When the kiss of death came, life as you knew it would change. As much as you geared yourself up for it, you’d never be ready.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” he said. “I’m starting to think you want to spend time with me.”

  You were sitting in the company cafe, your table far from prying eyes. Your head was buried in your phone when he walked in, but you didn’t need to hear his loud voice to know he was there. The air changed whenever he was near. Your body felt warmer, your hair standing on end, like it was confused with the temperature. Hot and cold is the way you liked your relationship with him. With Renjun and Jeno, he seemed more relaxed in his environment. None of them saw you, at first, which was alright with you, because you could watch him a little longer. On his own, without you, Haechan did act like a fool, and you liked it. He didn’t act more mature, didn’t stop himself from looking too ugly when he played around. When Renjun joked, Haechan laughed freely at the ceiling, his hand clutching his stomach like his intestines might fall out if he laughed hard enough. He pulled his cap off, ran his fingers through his hair, and replaced it. He kept checking his phone while waiting for his coffee, his eyes scanning the screen.

Haechan: I’ve been thinking about what you said.

  You looked down at your own phone. Saved under Devil, his text came up with a Ping!, your phone's volume all the way up. Several people turned in your direction. You made eye contact with them all before settling on Haechan who was making his way towards you. 

“I’ll see you later,” Haechan called to Renjun and Jeno. “Tell everyone I’ll be late.”

  He sat down across from you, took his cap off once more and ran his fingers through his hair again. You noticed that his hair was a few shades darker than the last time you saw him. He saw you looking and leered in a way that suggested he knew how attracted you were to him. 

“You didn’t give me time to text you back.” you said.

“I’m here in the flesh, “ he said. “Answer me now.”

“But you didn’t ask me anything.”

  Haechan placed his cap back on his head. He took his phone and started writing out a text message to you. You watched his fingers working, their slight crookedness mesmerizing. Everything he did was beautiful. Every move he made kept people wondering what he would do next. You were caught up in it, too, the hype. You found yourself giving him more attention than he deserved, more than you knew was good for you.

“There,” he said, his voice coming out childishly. “Question has been asked.”

   You looked at your screen glow. You could read the last few words before your screen shut off. You locked eyes with him. In that moment, all smugness was gone. Haechan looked terrified and worried that you would say no. You made a show of looking down and reading the whole message in front of him. Underneath the table, you took your foot and slowly worked it up his leg. 

Haechan: Will you take my virginity? 

  Reading the text made Haechan’s fear strike you like a hot chord through your stomach.  You placed your phone face down on the table and locked eyes with him again. Before his phone lit up with a message that felt like it had never been typed with your hands, you silently prayed to yourself. Haechan looked down at his phone, at the answer he had waited months for.

You: Yes.

  You find yourself waiting on a street corner in the rain for him. He’s late because he has schedules, and you’re on time because you faked being sick. When he gets there, he apologizes profusely, ducking underneath your umbrella like getting wet with the rain will burn his skin. Everything feels weird, like you’re in a movie where neither of the lead actors know what the hell they are doing, so they try to remember the lines they know they should not have forgotten. 

“You could have waited inside,” he said, taking the umbrella from your hands so that he could hold it higher. “Where it’s warm and dry.”

“I didn’t think you would find my apartment all on your own.” you said.

“Wow,” he said. “You really do think I’m a fool.”

   You lived in an apartment above a tiny seamstress shop. The rent was decently priced because she stored half of her belongings in the space.  If you didn’t complain, you could stay there as long as you wanted without burning through your paychecks on rent. The storefront sat nestled between other businesses, the door to your place narrow and unassuming. Too many take-out delivery men scrambled to find you, their faces growing hot with anger every time you weren’t there to meet them at the pavement. You had, in fact, learned your lesson. Haechan folded the umbrella before he stepped in through the door, shaking out the droplets back onto the street.

“I’m so cold.” he said. He pulled his sleeves down over his knuckles. The adorableness of it made your heart do a twirl. 

  You shut the door behind you and stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to your place. You removed your soaked shoes and he followed, his body shrinking down an inch once he took off his boots. You took his jacket from him and hung it on a hook after taking care of yours. Haechan shook out his wet hair, splatters of water making dots on your dry clothes.

“I’m going to kill you.” you said.

“Honey, “ he pouted. “Not until after we’ve had our first date.”

  You began to wonder if sex was too formal, which felt like a silly thing to do. Not dating didn’t feel normal, yet, being with him in such a confined space felt as normal as could be. You were comfortable with his humor, his cockiness dripping down the walls, flooding every room in your life. 

“You’re impossible.” you said.

  You went upstairs, your wet toes squishing against the carpet. Before you opened the door to your living area, you wondered what he might think. You didn’t live in a nice dorm like he did. Before figuring out where you would play out your relationship, you both briefly entertained the idea of having sex in his bed. According to Haechan, it was more comfortable, smelled nicer, and his bathroom was just a few feet away should you want to engage in shower sex. Compared to your small place, his dorm might have felt like a palace. You had told him it was too risky. “Oh?” he had said. “You have a problem with Johnny watching us?”

“What do you think?” you asked.

  Though you didn’t want to know, you knew you had to ask. As a friend, you appreciated his approval, and friends is what you were. Haechan looked around at your shoe box of a home, at the normal bits of your life scattered here and there, and the random boxes that belonged to the lady you rented from, and he whistled. He saw your kitchen counter scattered with your laptop and files, the pieces of junk that were stacked mile high.

“I like it, “ he said. “It’s sweet, like you.”

“Sweet.” you repeated.

  You moved further into the apartment, removing old mugs and placing them in the sink. Haechan hovered in the doorway, his awkwardness thick and uncomfortable. You let the last dish fall into the sink with a clatter that disturbed the weird silence growing between you. You approached him and touched the bottom of his hoodie. From the rain, the edges were soaked. Without saying anything, you peeled it up his body. Halfway through, Haechan moved as if he remembered he could, lifting his arms so that you yank the hoodie over his head. Underneath, he was wearing a white t-shirt that looked gossamer thin.

“Feel better?” you asked.

 Haechan grunted in response. You took another step forward until your face was close to his. You touched your fingers against his fingers. In surprise, he pulled them away. You didn’t think he would be very confident about his prowess, but you never expected him to be so shy. In a way, it was a let down. You wanted Haechan to push you back by your shoulders, put his hand on the back of your neck and pull you to his lips like he couldn’t survive another moment if he couldn’t taste you. The reality of Haechan was much different. 

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“Don’t apologize,” you said. “It’s okay. Things take time.”

  You couldn’t wait an eternity for him to make the first move. You turned around, your hair whipping him in the face, strands of it wet with his spit. You didn’t look back as you removed your shirt and tossed it aside. You walked towards your bedroom and turned back once you crossed over the threshold. Haechan was holding your shirt in his hands having caught it, his fingers rubbing the fabric. You ushered him forward with a crook of your finger. He shuffled on his feet, dropping the shirt as he came. The moment his body crossed the threshold to be with yours, you balled his shirt in your fist, pulled him into you, and kissed him on the lips. Kissing him made you feel high. Your body felt relaxed and at peace. His hand pressed against the small of your back, his tongue colliding with yours, the hotness of his breath turning you on. You brought your fingers into his hair and tugged on it so that he would reveal his neck to you. You kissed his moles, your teeth nipping at his throat and causing him to moan. 

“Whoa.” he said softly. 

  He had kissed before, but never like that. He had told you his first kiss happened because of the pressure from others. The moment his lips met hers, it felt like it was over. You were not that girl from his childhood. Haechan kissing you was like a flower opening up to bloom. He wanted to peck you at first, his lips tight, his eyes closed even tighter. You let him take his time and explore your mouth. Gradually, his hands moved over your body with the rhythm of his tongue. Before you knew it, he had turned you both around and pushed you against your bedroom wall.

“Easy.” you said, placing your hand against his chest.

  You could feel his erection poking you. He placed his hands on either side of you against the wall and tried to calm his body down. His kisses became eager, and it was hard for him to catch his breath. If he had it his way, he would have dropped his pants right there and fucked you against the wall.

“I’m taking off your bra.” he said.

 Haechan went behind your back to feel for the clasp but there was none. You raised your eyebrows at him, at the desperate look on his face as he searched around for what he thought should be there. He believed he was doing something wrong by not being able to find it. For once, you’re the one that felt smug. You pushed out your chest so he would get the hint. He looked down and saw a little clasp sitting between your breasts, its face shining with betrayal.

“Go ahead.” you whispered.

  His fingers touched the coolness of the clasp before unfastening it. Your bra bounced back to your sides, your breasts falling out of their cups. You angled your shoulders and let your bra slip down to the floor. Haechan looked at your breasts, your pert nipples standing almost as erect as his cock. When he didn’t immediately touch you, you took his hand and placed them over the softness of your breasts. You kissed him impatiently on his mouth, your body rubbing against his hard cock to tease him. His hands still on your breasts, you pulled your leggings off your body, your panties rolling down with them. 

“You can touch me,” you said. “Mr. Swag.”

   Joking around with him lightened the mood a little. Haechan laughed, his comfort level rising with each chuckle. Though he didn’t touch you further, he felt confident enough to remove his own clothes. In the light, you could see his body perfectly. His collarbones and neck were on full display. You could see the beginnings of a hickey covering the mole on his neck. You would have to be more careful next time. His nipples were small, his skin glowing. When he breathed in, you could see his rib cage, each delicate rung begging to meet your tongue. A light smattering of hair ran from his belly button down to his cock. His pubes were newly trimmed with the hand of someone very nervous. You wanted a good look at his cock, but he was covering himself with his hands. You kept your eyes traveling down his toned thighs, his knobby knees, and the white socks covering his ankles. 

“It feels like you’re judging me,” he said. “Is it bad? Do I look good to you?”

“Bad?” you asked. “You could never look bad. I am missing part of the picture., though”

  Haechan looked down at his hands and slowly removed them like he was unveiling a gift. When you saw his cock, you smiled. Hard, he was bigger than you thought he would be. Just from the look of his body, you knew he would come quickly the moment he felt any intense friction. Haechan held so much pent up energy in his body that no amount of jerking off in the dorm shower could release. You knew making him come was in his best interest, but you really wanted him to hold off for as long as possible. 

“Beautiful.” you said.

“I think I’m supposed to say that about you,” he said. “I think-”

  Your fingers were lightly stroking his happy trail as he spoke, or rather, became quiet. He closed his eyes as your hands tickled up his body until they found his nipples. You bent down and licked his small, dark bud, your tongue wetting him so much he was glistening. Your hands were on his ass, a handful of him being kneaded by your fingers. Once you started touching him, it was you who looked desperate. Unexpectedly, Haechan tucked his hand underneath your chin and brought your face up to look at him. The kiss he gave you was needy, his breathing so heavy you were worried he would come from the sheer excitement of it all.

“On the bed or standing up?” you asked. “Where do you want me?”

 It was a simple question, but he couldn’t answer it. If you had your phones in front of you, no doubt Haechan would fire off witty remarks about how he’d have you everywhere. The person before you now was incapable of making a decision, so you made it for him. You spun him around, walking him back into your bed until his knees hit the mattress and his body fell down into a sitting position. He looked up at you with wonder, his mouth parted slightly. You leaned down until your nipple touched his cupid's bow. Haechan opened his top lip wider and took you into his mouth, his eyes darkening as he watched your satisfied expression. 

“You have a grip on me that no one else ever has,” you told him. “You little fuck.”

  Using his chest, you pushed him back down onto your bed. He wasn’t done sucking on your nipples and doing so made him angry. He tried getting up to finish the job, but you pushed him back down again. His cockiness had returned, his smile baring teeth. Laying down, his cock sprang up and against his stomach. You could see the wetness highlighting his skin. Haechan brought his hands behind his head. You got onto the bed and straddled his thighs. When you took his cock in your hands, his body shivered, but he tried to play it off.

“There is nothing I want more than your cock in my mouth right now.” you said.

“Please.” he said. 

“Are you begging?”

“No,” he said. “I would never beg. I’m giving you the option, since I know you want it. I know you want me badly. You’ve dreamed about this, about me. I see the way you look at me when I’m in the practice room, when I lift up my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. I know you think about me every day.“

“You know too much for your own good.” 

“I know,” he said, using that childish voice that always got under your skin. You stroked his cock and watched as he tried controlling his response. 

“As I was saying,” you began. “I would love nothing more than to suck your cock, but we can’t do that, because you’ll come too soon.”

Haechan placed a hand over his chest. “You hurt my pride. I’m a man.”

“Exactly,” you said. “And there is nothing wrong with you coming, but I want the first time you come to be inside of me.”

  Hearing those words made Haechan lean his head all the way back in utter bliss. His hands scrambled for you, his fingertips scratching down your stomach. You could feel him wanting to whine, to buck his hips up for more, to have your mouth around his cock any way he could. He was used to getting his way with others, but with you, it would be damn near impossible. You moved up his body a little, his cock still in your hands. You hovered over him, waiting to make eye contact. Until then, you would wait to fill yourself with him. When he didn’t give in right away, you stroked his cheek with your other hand so he would be forced. When his eyes finally met yours, the look he gave you was very fitting to his nickname: Devil. Before your arrangement, he had asked about contraceptives and how he wasn’t ready for pregnancy scares. You told him about your birth control and asked him if he wanted to wear condoms. Haechan declined. As you sunk down onto his cock, the raw feeling of him made you more excited.

“I’m going to move slow,” you said.  “Okay?”

  Haechan didn’t answer. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of being inside of you. He looked down at his cock having disappeared between your legs. When you started riding him as slowly as possible, he couldn’t keep his eyes from watching himself move in and out, in and out. He was moaning, the sounds coming from his mouth high-pitched and frequent enough to make his throat feel sore the next day. You rested your hands against his chest and moved up and down his cock so that he would get the full visual of how wet his shaft was after leaving your pussy.

“You feel good.” you told him. 

  It wasn’t a lie. Having him between your legs made you feel like you were in control, and you loved that feeling. Haechan looked at you like you were bringing every new sensation to him, a new world, and new emotions. Your body felt different than his own hand. The way you smelled, how you sounded as you rode him, and everything in between made his first time more special. Granted, you were faking a lot of it for his pleasure, but he didn’t need to know that. You focused on how he was feeling, knowing that at any moment he was going to explode. He was hanging on longer than you thought he would, which made you happy because it was possible that he would be ready for another round soon after.

“Haechan,” you moaned. “Haechan. Haechan. Haechan.”

  You touched yourself. You flicked your hair over your shoulder. You pretended like his cock was giving you the best sex you ever had, and it worked in your favor.  When you thought he would come, his body seizing, his face pulling ugly expressions, Haechan started moving your body off of him. You expected him to lay back and let you fuck him as you wished. You expected him to be thankful to you for giving him his first orgasm with another person, but you did not expect him to steal the lead. Haechan flipped you over until you were on your back, his cock having slipped out of you. For a moment, you laid on the bed in shock, and he moved over you in that same shock, his eyes unfocused. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked down at your body against the sheets. Your body felt empty without him, your pussy throbbing.

“Say my name again.” he grunted.

“Haechan.”

“No,” he said. “My real name.”

  Haechan was on top of you, holding his body up so that you could see all of the muscles he never talked about. He was strong and young, and he was ready to fuck. 

“Donghyuck,” you said. “Donghyuck. Donghyuck. Donghyuck.”

 Haechan lifted your legs up until they were resting on either side of his shoulders. He squatted down low, his own legs bent, his ass hanging off the edge of the bed. You could see a bead of sweat working its way down his chest. He lifted your hips up a little before penetrating you again, his cock thrusting deeper and deeper. He didn’t last long in that position, and you didn’t orgasm, but you were so impressed that it didn’t matter. You watched him coming, his eyes closed, his body stiff and his hands grabbing onto yours, and you were spellbound by him. You wanted all of his cum inside of you, every last drop. You wanted it to fill you up until it dripped out of you, and then you wanted him to stuff his cock inside of you again, until you were the one begging him to say your name.

  You jerked Haechan off while his balls were in your mouth. Stroking his length with your palm made the most joyous sounds come from his pretty lips. You sucked on his balls, your tongue soaking them. One of his hands was holding the back of your head, the other was rubbing his wet fingers against his nipples. You had his cock in your mouth a million times since the day you took his virginity, but it was always a delight seeing how wild he went when you surprised him with a slip of the tongue. You let his balls drop out of your mouth before licking a circle around his asshole. Haechan jumped a little, his head lifting up to glare at you.

“You have to warn me when you do that!” he said.

“I thought you liked it?”

“I do,” he said. “I just need to be prepared for it. P-R-E-P-A-R-E-D. Prepared.”

  You shimmied your way back up between his legs so that you could suck on his cock instead. He was so handsome looking down at you, his starry eyes focused on the way you took his head past your lips. 

“You’re so sexy.” he said.

“I know.” you said. You took his cock out of your mouth and licked the underside, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Ayyyy,” he said. “Don’t get too cocky.”

  You took him deeper into your mouth, in an attempt to make him come faster. He always lost himself when his cock hit the back of your throat. Each time you were together, it was your inside joke to see who would come the fastest. Most times, you easily won, but Haechan always put up a good fight.

“Baby, the things you do to me.” he whimpered.

 The things you do. The things you had done. For weeks you’ve been fucking him, and it’s only getting started.

[tony-is-my-daddy]

Hi guys! So this is my 1000th post on this blog. I cannot express how thankful I am to all of you who have followed me and still read and see and like all of my stupid posts. I see all of your likes and reblogs and tags and comments, it fills my heart with such great happiness, you all are awesome! I'm so glad I get to be in this amazing fandom, it kinda feels like a second family at this point.

Anyway, tumblr freaked out when I wanted to post the whole thing in one, so I will separate it into two parts. Enjoy part one.

Dream a little dream of me

Peter loved his job more than anything. Being a kindergarten teacher was great, he loved being around kids and he knew the feeling was mutual, most of his kids said he was their favorite teacher. He had so many of their drawings and crafts, he kept them in a special folder in his desk at home. It warmed his heart and made a huge smile stretch over his face when he saw another drawing made for him. He loved all of his students equally. Okay, that's what he told everyone, because he wasn't supposed to say the truth. He couldn't tell people he had a favorite, that was rude and Peter wasn't gonna disappoint his kids. But truth be told, the little girl with the chestnut hair and the sparkly brown eyes and pretty smile was his favorite one of them all.

Morgan Stark, the daughter of a single mother, famous CEO's of Stark Industries and ex-lovers, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. Morgan had only been Peter's student for a month and she already managed to get into Peter's heart with her charm and her smile. During those first four weeks of the school year, he hadn't had a chance to meet the girl's father. Obviously, he knew who it was. Everyone did. But Peter was so excited to see the man because honestly, Tony Stark had been his biggest celebrity crush for as long as he could remember. The thirty-five years old genius was not just smart and rich, he was also very handsome.

So it was understandable if he forgot how to breathe for a second when he was just reading something while the kids played around, waiting for their parents, and Morgan suddenly yelled out in that angeling voice of hers, "Daddy!"

Peter's head snapped up. He looked at the man at the door as he leaned down and picked up the small girl, kissing her forehead before he sat her on his hip. Peter's jaw dropped and he just stared. Tony was... wow. He was so hot, even more so up close than he did in all those pictures and interviews Peter had seen him in.

"Daddy, look, there's Mr. Parker. He's the nicest teacher ever!" Peter had no idea how to react. He moved to stand up, but then sat back down again, thinking it would be too much. But when the older man approaced him, he stood up anyway.

"So you're the teacher this little one has been telling me about lately. Hello, I'm Tony Stark," the man said with a smile - wow, so that's where Morgan got her smile from - and reached out a hand for Peter. It took a moment for him to process what was going on, but then he shook Tony's hand with an awkward laugh.

"I know, sir. I'm Peter. Parker."

Tony smiled and let the handshake last for a second or two longer than a normal handshake would, but Peter didn't mind.

"Go collect your stuff, babygirl," Tony said and set Morgan down to run back to her classmates and collect her backpack. Then, his attention turned back to Peter, he was now smirking. "Well, Mr. Parker, my daughter seems to love you very much."

"Oh yes, I love her too, you know. She's such a sweet little girl. She became my favorite student recently." He added that last thing quietly so that the rest of the class didn't hear it.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, of course! She's very nice and smart, she probably got that from her dad."

Peter only realized what slipped from his mouth when he saw Tony's lips stretch into a grin. "You think I'm smart, Mr. Parker?"

"Obviously, you're a literal genius, sir. The smartest person of our generation."

"That's very flattering, Mr. Parker. Thank you."

"Please, call me Peter, sir."

"Then you should call me Tony."

Was this flirting? No, there was no way. Right? Tony Stark could've got anyone, lingerie models would hang off his shoulders if he just asked them to do so, so many people wanted to get him and out of them all, why oh why would he choose Peter Parker?

"O-okay. Tony," Peter said, his voice a bit shaky, unsure. Just then, Morgan appeared next to her father, clutching the straps of her Iron Man backpack with her little hands.

"Can we go now," she asked.

"Of course munchkin. Give daddy that backpack, there you go. Say goodbye to Mr. Parker."

"Bye Mr. Parker," she waved as they walked towards the door hand in hand.

"Bye Morgan," he waved as well with a smile. That little girl was so adorable.

The next day, Peter was not expecting Tony again to come collect Morgan, but it looked like neither did Morgan.

They were outside on the playground when Tony walked through the gates and Morgan frowned at her from the sandbox. "Daddy? Why are you here? Where's mommy?"

"Mommy's busy, Morguna. But I'm here, aren't you happy?"

"I am!"

Tony laughed, oh, what a sound. "Alright then, little bug, go get your backpack."

"Yes daddy!"

She was up soon, running through the playground to go back in the building, both Tony and Peter yelling after her to slow down. They looked at each other and laughed.

"We meet again," Tony said, taking a few steps closer towards Peter.

"Looks like it," he said, still smiling.

"How was she today?"

"Oh amazing, just like always. There was a little misunderstanding when Lori over there tried to take one of her toys, but we worked that out eventually."

"Great to hear that," Tony said. He took another step forward. They were now a bit closer than Peter should've been with one of his students' father. "I've wanted to ask, by the way, how old are you, Peter?"

It caught him off-guard a little, usually his kids' parents didn't ask how old he was. They asked about how their children behaved, obviously, but never about Peter. Why would he care about Peter?

"Oh I'm twenty-five, sir. Tony, sorry. Um... why are you asking?"

"I was just curious." Another step forward. Peter's heart was now starting to beat a little faster. "Are you, by any chance, interested in men? Because... I'd like to grab a coffee with you sometime, of course, only if you'd like that."

Well, if the age question caught him off-guard then imagine Peter after that. His eyes widened and he crossed his arms so he could pinch the skin on his upper arm unnoticeably, just to see if he was really not dreaming. But no, Tony Stark still stood in front of him, expecting an answer from him.

Peter swallowed, suddenly noticing how dry his mouth was, before he cleared his throat to speak up. "Like- like on a date?"

"Yes, pretty much. I don't really know if there's a rule against that but... I'd like to take you out sometime. If you want to, that is."

"Well, yeah, yes, sure," he said after a little hesitation. What the hell was he hestitating for? This was Tony fucking Stark himself! "When?"

"Well, here's my number," the billionaire said as he fished his phone out from his pocket, and so did Peter. His hand was shaking a little from how excited he was, which he hoped Tony didn't see. They looked at each other, Tony smirking a little when he asked if he can say it. Peter nodded and the older man told him his number and Peter wrote it in his contact list, naming him Tony Stark with all caps because how crazy was that?!

"Daddy, look, I drew something for mommy!" Morgan's voice startled them again and Peter put his phone away quickly.

"Very beautiful baby, she'll love it."

"I didn't draw anything for you," she said with a little pout.

"That's okay, my love, you'll draw something tomorrow," Tony said with a fond smile as he took ahold of Morgan's little hand.

"But mommy said he'd come for me tomorrow."

"Oh honey, I think mommy will be busy tomorrow as well." Tony glanced at Peter and winked before they turned around and walked through the gates, getting into a black car right outside. As they drove off, Peter's finger started to itch for his phone right away.

He didn't see Tony for a few days after that, even though he said he'd come for Morgan the day he gave him his number. Peter started to worry, thinking it was his fault, that he scared him off. It's been four days, including the weekend, and the older man didn't even try to call him.

Fuck, he didn't even get Peter's number! What if he was waiting for a text? Oh God, Peter was so dumb!

He then and there stopped planning tomorrow's classes and he grabbed his phone, opening the chat with Tony. His thumb danced over the screen for a few minutes, trying to decide what to write, trying to think of something nice and sweet, maybe a bit cheeky to make Tony smile. He wrote and deleted. Wrote and then deleted. Until he decided to just stick with the essentials, and he wrote a //very original// text.

Peter: Hi, it's Peter.

Peter: Parker.

He waited for a few minutes, anxiously staring at his screen for a while before he put it down and decided to make himself a tea to distract himself. He walked into his kitchen, filling the kettle with hot water and putting it on the stove to boil. And while his hands were occupied, his mind could do nothing but wander back to that man. He thought back to that day when he asked him out, when he stepped closer and closer to Peter, close enough to touch but he never did. He was too scared he'd come off as weird or eager if he touched him. After all, what kind of teacher touches his students' parents a day after meeting for the first time?

The water boiled soon and Peter poured some in his huge, colorful mug, placing the tea filter in it, a teaspoon of sugar and then he was back in his living room, grabbing his phone from his desk before he sat down on the couch. He checked if he got any messages. And in that very minute, his phone buzzed, making Peter jump and his phone almost fell out of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tony: Well hello Peter, you almost made me think you changed your mind about that date

Peter: No, of course not! I'd still very much like to go out with you

Oh wow, that seemed eager as hell. It dawned on Peter that maybe he should've waited at least a couple minutes before texting back, he now probably seemed so pathetic, like he waited for ten minutes staring at his phone and waiting for Tony to write back. He didn't have too much time to worry about that, because another text from Tony came through.

Tony: That's very good to hear, darling. So when are you free?

It was just as quick as Peter's response. Maybe Tony didn't care about how fast Peter texted back to him, maybe he just wanted to talk...

Peter: I'm free this weekend, Saturday if that's ok with you

Tony: That would be good for me too. Around 9 maybe?

Peter: Sounds perfect

Perfect? Why did he say perfect? "That's good," "that'll be nice," "okay," something simpler like that didn't go through your mind, Parker?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Tony: Then I'll see you in four days, Peter x

Peter: See you x

They really did that. They really just sent each other x's. Peter squealed a little as he put his phone down, jumping on his seat in excitement. He took a sip of the hot tea that's been resting on his coffee table since he made it, and turned on the TV. A silly romcom was playing, The ugly truth. Peter had seen it before, he liked it, mostly because he found Gerard Butler hot. What? He had a thing for older men.

So he settled down on the comfy couch, a blanket over him and the hot tea warming his icy fingertips as he watched the movie. And while he did, he still thought about Tony, and mentally, he was choosing an outfit for the occasion.

Two days later, on a rainy Wednesday when all of the kids were in the room, playing by themselves during the afternoon, Morgan walked up to Peter as he was talking to another student. She pulled him away and then showed him a drawing of hers.

"Wow, Morgan, that's so pretty! Who are these people," he asked, pointing at the stick figures on the paper.

"That's mommy, that's me, and that's you and daddy."

Peter's eyes widened. "Why me and daddy?"

"Because," she started fiddling with her hands dancing from side to side, "I told daddy I like you very much and he said he likes you too and he said he will take you on a date but I can't tell anyone but I wanted to tell you so please don't tell daddy I told you but he wants to take you on a date."

Peter chuckled, ruffling her brown hair. She looked so much like Tony. "It's okay, little one, I'm sure daddy won't be mad you told me. But don't tell anyone else if he doesn't want you to, okay?"

"Otay!"

"Will you go back to playing now?"

"Yes but I want you to have the drawing."

"I'll keep the drawing," he said with a warm smile and Morgan giggled happily before skipping away, back to her friends. Peter looked at the drawing for quite a while as he walked back to his desk, sitting on top of it. It was like any drawing done by a small child, but this was... somehow different. His kids often drew him and then gave the drawing to him, but this wasn't like that. Morgan drew her father, her mother, herself and Peter. She drew her family... and Peter.

"Hey," he heard a voice next to him and he looked up from the drawing in his hand. It was Tony. "I came for Morgan."

He came in so quietly, not even Morgan was aware that her dad walked into the room. She was playing along with her friends, her back turned to Tony and Peter.

"Hi," Peter greeted when he looked back at Tony.

"What are you looking at?"

"It's a- uh... Morgan drew this for me today." He put the drawing down on the desk facing downwards so that Tony didn't see it. "So you're taking dad duty today?"

"Sort of. Can I see the drawing?"

"Sort of? So you're just picking her up and then dropping her at her mom's house?"

"No, I'm taking her for dinner as well, but full dad duty is when she sleeps at mine. So the drawing-"

"How often does she sleep at yours?"

"Every second week, except for when I have busieness trips."

"I didn't see you last month at all, though."

"No, we left out a month, I had lots of things to do. I've missed her so much."

"I bet you did. I'd miss her too if I didn't get to see her for a month."

"So... can I see the drawing," he asked again.

"Morgan, look who it is!"

"Daddyyy!"

Tony tried to look at Peter angrily, but a smile spread over his face. "Cheeky," he said before turning around and crouching down in front of his daughter. "What's up Morguna? Are you ready for a fun afternoon?"

"Yeees!"

"Grab your jacket and your backpack and we can go." As Morgan ran away, he straightened up again and looked at Peter. "And you... I'll pick you up at 8:30 on Saturday, send me your address."

"Gladly," Peter chuckled.

After the Starks left, Peter turned the drawing up again and stared at it for a couple more minutes until another parent arrived to pick up their kid. He had no idea how to feel about being a part of their family just yet... but he very much liked the idea of Tony Stark.

A few days later, Peter was up at 7am, trying to choose between three outfits for his date that morning. The night before, he went through two facemasks, a hairwash and shaving as well (no, he wasn't about to get to business on the first date, but better be safe than sorry), so for the morning, all he had to do was get dressed and do his hair.

He may or may not had a little breakdown while trying to decide which outfit he wanted to wear, but that's normal, and at the end, he chose a V-neck burgundi shirt with jeans and a jacket. He styled his hair perfectly (thank the hair gods for that, he had never managed to do that before), and panicked when his doorbell buzzed.

"Parker, who is this?"

"Tony."

"You said you'd text before you left and called when you got here!"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Oh my God, be glad I'm ready anyways, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

Tony laughed. "Alright, Cinderella, come down and show me yourself."

Peter smiled and grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before heading out.

"Wow," Tony mumbled when they finally met in front of the building. "Didn't think you could look better."

Peter blushed. "Thank you." The man in front of him was wearing a button up and black jeans, a jacket casually thrown over his shoulders. He looked so effortlessly good, the kind that would get up from bed and just look sexy as ever. "You look great, too."

"Why thank you, angel. Shall we go?"

"Oh yes, of course! Where are we going?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere further away but I saw a very cute café not far away, we could walk there," Tony said as he took ahold of Peter's hand and wrapped it around his arm to lead him. Wow, no one has ever done that to Peter before.

"That's my favorite place!"

"I assumed," Tony commented with a triumphant smirk.

"Since when do you teach kindergarteners?"

"I started about three years ago, I graduated early."

"And why this career?"

Peter chuckled. He often got that question. "I think it's one of the most important jobs, to raise the next generation well. If you don't do it right then humanity will just get more and more screwed up."

"Fair point."

Peter then turned the question around. "And why guns?"

Tony sighed. "It was my dad's legacy. He wanted me to carry on with it, so I did, and I didn't see anything wrong with it until..."

He knew Tony was talking about the time he got kidnapped by the Ten Rings and became Iron Man. That was when Peter really started looking up to the man, he thought it was a very heroic move and he wasn't sure if he'd have had the balls to give up his job to be a superhero and fight people.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's okay, I just don't talk about this on the first date," he dodged with a joke. Peter laughed and happily changed the subject before it got too much for Tony.

After the short walk, they entered the café and ordered two coffees and pastries for each of them. As they had their breakfasts (at least that's what it was for Peter), they talked about movies, and turns out they were both huge fans of retro sci-fis and action movies. Peter also mentioned that he liked romcoms and after a while, Tony admitted that he "kinda likes them" as well. It was sweet to see this man, a billionaire genius superhero, open up and show Peter his soft side.

But the softest side of Tony came through when Peter asked about Morgan.

"Me and my back then secretary, Pepper had this crazy night. We were both drunk and somehow she just got pregnant. At first we really panicked, but now, we wouldn't have in otherwise. This little sunshine is really the highlight of our lives, she's so chatty and so cute. And I hate watching Disney movies every single night when she's over, but that would be the smallest sacrifice if it meant I could have her over all the time." He showed Peter hundreds of images of her on his phone and Peter's heart melted more and more from every picture. The drawing that the little girl gave him on Wednesday popped into his mind again and now he saw it from a slightly different perspective...

They didn't even notice how quick the time went as they talked, it was like they'd only just met up in front of Peter's building, but when he caught a glimpse of Tony's Rolex, he saw that they've been there for over two hours. He mentioned it to Tony, who laughed and offered Peter a walk home, which he gladly accepted. The older man didn't let him pay the bill either, even though Peter said multiple times that he doesn't expect Tony to buy everything for him. He just insisted.

"I had a lot of fun today, Peter," Tony said as they were heading back to Peter's apartment, this time with not only their arms wrapped around the other's, but holding hands. It felt so natural to hold the man's hand, it made Peter feel somehow... safe.

"So did I. Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"Oh yeah, I'd like that a lot. Maybe a proper dinner next time?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Will you let me pay for at least half of the bill?"

"You're going out with a billionaire and you seriously want to pay the bill?"

"Yes! I'm not going out with you for your money, Tony. I want you to know that. So next time, you'll let me pay."

"If that's what you really want then okay."

When they got back to Peter's apartment, Tony took the younger man's chin between his fingers and tilted it to the side so he could kiss his cheek. Peter blushed deeply and smiled awkwardly. "Thank you so much for today, Peter. I'll see you later."

"Thank you as well. See you."

He watched Tony get in his car before he opened the door, getting in as he heard the engine start. He waved through the window at Tony as he drove away before twirling around twice. Something so unlike life just happened to him and if he was dreaming, he'd give everything for it to never end.

@staticwhispersinthedark wanted to be tagged so here you go!

[missmarvelobsession]

I wanna talk about Wanda Maximoff x Long Sleeves for a minute. This whole thing breaks my heart because it's really sad because the MCU doesn't do anything on accident it's all thought out even wardrobe so it just makes it even sadder for me.

We shall start with my first point,

Wanda Maximoff didn't always wear long sleeves!

Even in Sokovia, she has a shawl, not a long sleeved jacket or anything.

Even her first Scarlet Witch outfit was no longer than three quarter length sleeves.

Then she looses her brother, and we all know how that goes 🥺

So she goes back with The Avengers and everyone is pretty much in agreement that she loses it for several weeks if not months over the loss of her brother, locked in her room crying and blaming herself for it. Of course we never see any of that, she has pulled herself together for the next movie.

We open on Lagos, where the team is very suddenly thrust into a situation that is more involved than anticipated and Wanda wasn't ready. They trained for it, as Steve mentioned, but she puts off vibes that she wasn't expecting to do this today and is caught off guard. She pulls it together and manages to do what she needs to, until... oops.

That wasn't her fault, but oops all the same.

So back at the compound we get our first round of Long Sleeve Wanda, tormenting herself for the mistake.

Steve manages to cheer her up a bit just in time to go get yelled at, and then she gets put on secret house arrest by Tony, and Vision keeps her company. She is upset at first when she finds out but I feel like she calmed down by the time we see Clint come to break her out.

Speaking of that, we are graced with this little display where we get our first glance at what I already suspected when I saw the shirt with the thumb slot in the earlier scene, and my second point.

Wanda Maximoff has severe anxiety.

And of course she does!

As someone who has CRIPPLING ANXIETY, when I am fending off an attack there is nothing quite like disappearing into my hoodie/jacket/cardigan. I actually started wearing cardigans because of her, and that is my clothing item of choice now. I always try to pick an outfit that a long cardigan could go with, there's so much fabric you can pull around yourself.

Kudos to Lizzie for bringing it to the big screen, I could feel the anxiety coming off the screen. My heart goes out to Wanda ❤

I feel like it may have slipped by people and been disregarded because she seems to bounce back from these anxious moments so quickly, for example promptly after this we are shown a scene where she tells Cap that she felt like it was time to get off her ass, directly quoting what Clint said to her in this scene. It's not how she really feels but it's something that he would like to hear. I do this all day working retail, if you seem like you are okay no one will ask you about it, and you can move on. But if people start to ask about it then you break down and that's not a good look for an Avenger (hence Tony in Iron Man 2)

This brings me to my third and final point.

Vision doesn't make it better, and he doesn't have to!

Her relationship with Vision doesn't magically make her anxiety go away, AND IT SHOULDN'T!!!

Even in Edinburgh she's got shirts that cover her hands and shoves her hands in her pockets from nerves, and that's OKAY!!!

It isn't his job to make her anxiety go away, its to help her to understand how beautiful she is even with her flaws!!!

He is OBSESSED with her hands and I LOVE THAT!!! Her powers come from her hands and she has insecurities about that but he focuses positive actions on them!!!

They give each other a safe space to GROW and LEARN what it means to be different and SUPPORT EACH OTHER!!!

Scarlet Vision is an example of a healthy supportive relationship ❤🥺👍

Also they are pure fluff and sweetness but still ❤

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[fallinnflower]

worth it

hoshi x reader (university!au, strangers to lovers, fluff)

The first time you met Soonyoung was during the co-curricular fair during your first year of college. Soonyoung sat at a fold out table in the quad with three of his friends, music playing from a Bluetooth speaker and a big poster taped to the front of the table which simply read ‘DANCE CLUB,’ surrounded by hand-drawn emoticons. You thought it was a cute booth, and you thought he was a cute boy, but you nearly jumped out of your skin when he called out to get your attention. 

You weren’t sure what clubs you were going to join, but you didn’t think you’d make for a good dancer — you’d only ever danced by yourself in your room, and one time at a school dance. But there was Soonyoung, calling out at ‘the girl in the blue cap,’ which you suddenly realized was you, imploring you to join. You attempted to conceal yourself in your jacket as you shook your head, mumbling an apology and waving as you wove your way deeper into the crowd, cheeks blazing. 

You didn’t look back. 

The next time you interacted with Soonyoung (beyond him smiling at you when you crossed paths, which you figured he did to everyone because he was just that friendly) was in a marketing class the two of you had together. You didn’t sit anywhere near Soonyoung, and for the first quarter of the semester nothing of consequence happened between you two. 

Then there was the midterm assignment. Randomized partners, open-ended topic, all culminating in a twenty-five minute presentation given by the both of you. 

You hated the waiting most of all. Sitting, listening to your professor call out what seemed to be everyone else’s name but your own, biting down on the inside of your cheek the longer you had to wait. 

“Soonyoung and Y/N.” Your head snaps up, and suddenly Soonyoung is waving excitedly at you, motioning to the seat beside him with a big grin. With your heart beating a mile a minute you pack up your things and slip down the row to sit beside Soonyoung. 

“Hi!” He greets. You manage a quiet reply, not sure why you feel so bashful in his bright presence. “Do you have any ideas for the project?” 

“Um, well...” You pause, flipping a few pages back in your notebook. “We could always talk about social media’s impact on marketing… I know it’s simple, but maybe we could pick a specific platform and get some data about how marketing has developed there. Maybe Instagram?” You chance a look at Soonyoung out of the corner of your eye to find him still beaming at you, peering down into your notebook. His face is closer to yours than you expected, and his cheeks are bunched up in such an endearing way that you just want to pinch them. And just like that, as if you weren’t blushing enough as it is, you feel your cheeks heat up tenfold. 

Suddenly, everyone starts packing up, and you close your notebook in a hurried manner,

“So, um, I’m free every afternoon—”

“How about tomorrow then? At 7 in the library?” You nod, caught off guard at how enthusiastic Soonyoung seems to be about this project. He’s never been active in class, and, to be honest, you were expecting him to drag his feet a bit more. 

It’s 7:15, and you can’t keep yourself from biting at your lip, a mix of agitated and concerned that keeps you bouncing your knee as the minutes tick by. You’re close to just sending Soonyoung an email and ditching, but suddenly you catch sight of him jogging frantically between the shelves of books. You stand and wave to catch his attention, and he grins when he notices you, brushing his hair back from his face. 

Upon closer inspection, you realize that his hair is damp, sticking up in a multitude of different directions. 

“Hi, sorry,” he pants, somehow still looking chipper. “I let dance practice run late and I didn’t wanna come here all sweaty. But, I brought snacks to make up for it!” He drops a bag of gummy bears on the table between the two of you, eyes sparkling. You sink back into your seat, averting your gaze as a sense of guilt washes over you.

“The library has a no food policy,” you mumble, and all it takes is a glance to see that Soonyoung’s smile has dropped a bit. 

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and all you can hear is the rhythmic clicking of other students' keyboards, until suddenly there’s a crinkling sound and the bag is once again in your vision. 

“That’s fine, you just take them then! As an apology for me being late.”

When you look up, considering denying his offering, you can’t help but pause. His smile is as gummy as the candy he’s offering, his cheeks looking just as squishy and his eyes glittering with anticipation. You feel your heart skip a beat as you accept, slipping the bag into your backpack. 

“Thanks, Soonyoung,” you whisper, and he laughs. 

“You can call me Hoshi, if you want. All my friends do.” This, too, gives you pause, but you shake it off and return his smile — albeit shyly. 

“Okay, Hoshi.” You turn back to your laptop, missing the way his ears turn red, and pull up the Google Doc and Slideshow you had made for the project. 

“I went ahead and shared the project materials with you, did you get them?” 

It’s then that you realize Hoshi isn’t the best with technology. He looks a little bit like a confused grandfather as he leans in towards his screen, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly ajar. 

“Everything okay?” You ask, and he lets out a little whine. 

“It won’t let me type anything.” You tilt your head, equally confused. You had given him editing access, hadn’t you? 

“Let me see.” Hoshi not only turns his laptop to you, but moves to the seat beside you to see what you do. You let out a little laugh as soon as you realize what it is. 

“Ah, you weren’t in editing mode.” You switch his system over, and Hoshi leans back in his seat with an embarrassed pout on his lips. To put it mildly, it’s adorable, and you’re not sure how you’re going to deal with looks like that if he’s always this bad with his laptop. 

Despite that little obstacle, Hoshi is relatively prepared. He’d found a couple of sources that he had to dig around in his bookmarks to get to again, and he seemed genuinely interested in working hard. The two of you laid out the basics of your project, throwing little notes into the doc and talking through your points. 

“I can make some infographics for the project,” you offer. “I can probably have them ready by this weekend.”

“Should we meet up on Sunday then?” He asks. “We can go to a coffee shop! My treat!” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupts, dark eyes sincere as one of his hands comes to rest reassuringly over your own. “You’ve been really helpful, and I’m not very good with technology so you’re going to end up doing a lot more than you should have to, so I want to make it up to you.” 

Well, you don’t know how you’re supposed to say no to that when he’s smiling so cutely at you and his hand is on yours — so you don’t. You just nod and agree, before you both pack up your things. Hoshi carries your bag for you until the two of you part ways at the quad, him heading down to the house he rents with a few of his friends and you back to the dorms. 

Later that night, as you’re checking your emails one last time before bed, you’re surprised to find a notification that Hoshi had made a relatively recent change to your Doc. You click to open it and can’t help but giggle at what you find. 

I forgot to give you my number at the library!! (***)-***-***!!! ヽ(´▽`)/

You can’t help but think the emoticon looks just a little bit like him, and you fall asleep with a smile still lingering on your face. Kwon Soonyoung, you think, what a guy. 

Hoshi texts you throughout the week — at first, just to ask questions about various little tech issues and what you think of the sources he’s found; you simply laugh when he asks you what font you like for the slideshow, but your best friend (who’s peeking over your shoulder) has a slightly different reaction. 

“Oh my god,” she says. “He’s just coming up with random shit now!”

“Huh?”

“He’s just finding reasons to text you,” she continues, exasperated. “Like, fonts, seriously? He just wants to talk to you!” You shake your head, texting Hoshi that you don’t have a preference. 

“No, he’s just bad with computers, that’s all. Besides, we barely know each other.” Your friend huffs. 

“You’re oblivious.”

But as time goes by, you can’t really deny that he seems to be texting you about almost nothing. But you also can’t deny that you’re enjoying talking to him, with his excessive emoticons and use of exclamation points. Even when he’s distracting you from class, his messages leave a smile on your face. 

And Hoshi is the King of Distractions. In fact, the next time you have class together, Hoshi repeatedly catches your eyes just to point at his phone to get you to check yours. You wonder how he’s been doing so well in class if he’s always like this, and so you mime back that he should take notes. 

He pouts. It’s unfairly cute. He points at the phone again and you finally give in, rolling your eyes before tapping the screen. 

Hi

You give him the most withering look of disbelief you can manage, and he only beams back at you like it’s the best thing he’s ever done in his life. You roll your eyes, but as you turn away you happen to glance at your phone again just in time to see his message before your screen fades to black. 

:D

Dork, you type back with a smile on your face. He’s just too cute to ignore. When you happen to glance up from your phone again, Hoshi is pouting more prominently than you’ve ever seen before. You try not to think it’s cute, try to keep from smiling, but you just can’t help it. It seems you just can’t help anything when it comes to him, at this rate. 

Sunday comes and you’re less prepared than you’d like to admit. After sleeping through your alarm, you’d barely managed to remember to grab your laptop and charger to show Hoshi the infographics you were meeting to talk about before running out the door with your moisturizer barely slapped on. To say you were self-conscious entering the cafe, slightly winded and with stray hairs falling into your face from where you had it pulled back, would be an understatement. 

You’re quick to find Hoshi, who is staring at you with his lips slightly parted, expression unreadable. The apologies burst from your mouth like a flood, barely pausing for a breath as you explain your morning situation. 

“But don’t worry,” you say, plopping down onto the seat and smiling brightly at him as your laptop boots up. “The infographics are done!” Hoshi stares at you for a moment, that same expression from before still on his face before he shakes his head slightly and replaces it with a familiar smile. 

“I’m sure they’re awesome,” he says, pushing his chair back. “Want anything? My treat.” It takes you a moment to decide on a pastry to go with your coffee, but his smile never once fades — he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit impatient, even as he goes to stand in line. At some point, he turns his head to try and catch your eye, and when he does he scrunches up his nose and smiles; you giggle and do your best to mimic his expression, and when you do he’s quick to turn away, but not before you see his cheeks turning pink. You wonder if he’s feeling alright.

He returns a moment later with both your coffees and two chocolate croissants on a plate. You push your laptop so he can see it and begin operating the mouse with one hand, taking your croissant in the other. 

As is your usual tendency, you fall so far into explaining your work that you forget anything else — which is why you’re shocked to see Hoshi staring so intently at you and not the screen when you finally finish your spiel with a hopeful, “So?” He blinks rapidly, turning a little red again, before nodding enthusiastically at you. 

“They look great!” He chirps, then takes a long drink of his coffee. You sigh in relief and do the same, turning your laptop back to yourself. 

“Um, Y/N?” You hear him ask, and you lift your gaze from your screen.

“Hm?” Hoshi looks very determined, and although you don’t understand why, you realize it’s a very good look on him, one that leaves you feeling flustered.

“You have some chocolate on your face.” You immediately feel yourself turn red, and begin looking to see where the napkins are.

“Where?” 

You feel a light touch on your chin, and Hoshi is suddenly leaning across the table towards you. His eyes are focused intently on your lips and it only makes you more self-conscious; your breath stalls in your chest.

“There,” he intones, his voice low as his thumb gently glides along the corner of your mouth. His gaze flicks up to meet yours, and you feel your heart skip a beat as a smile spreads across his face, “Perfect.” 

Maybe his touch lingers, or maybe you’re just imagining things, but either way Hoshi sits back in his seat and goes back to munching on his croissant with no more than a light laugh, leaving you light-headed. You duck your head slightly, staring at your keyboard as you feel your face continue to burn, and wonder if you might still be asleep and dreaming.

If you are, you consider, you don’t really want to wake up. 

Your best friend hits you with a pillow when you tell her about your café meeting with Hoshi.

“Hey!” You snap, swatting the pillow away from your face. “What was that for?” Your friend lets out a long-suffering groan and falls dramatically back onto your bed.

“I’ve failed you!” She wails, clutching the pillow to her chest. “A hot boy flirts with you and you don’t even notice!”

“I don’t know,” you say, plucking at a loose thread on your blanket. “Maybe it was nothing. It’s Hoshi, be realistic.” At the sudden quietness of your tone your friend lifts her head and fixes you with a glare.

“What exactly are you trying to say, Y/N?” You shift awkwardly beneath her gaze.

“Just… just that Hoshi is kinda out of my league, okay?” You’re not usually the type to think about leagues, but Hoshi has always seemed sort of untouchable to you, a polar opposite. He shines as bright as his nickname would imply and you tend to prefer not being noticed because it makes you anxious. The thought of Hoshi liking you feels a bit like Aphrodite liking Hephaestus, and you just can’t shake that little cloud of self-consciousness away.

“Y/N,” your friend says sternly, sitting up and forcing you to meet her eyes. “There is no reason for Kwon Soonyoung not to like you, and there is no reason you should reject him if you like him, too.” You press your lips into a thin line, frustrated that she’s making sense. Sometimes you really just want to be irrational and take the risk.

And you have a feeling that having your heart broken by Kwon Soonyoung is one hell of a risk to run.

The project goes much more smoothly than you previously expected, especially considering Hoshi’s schedule is as crazy as it is. You know that his club has an event coming up, so you try your best to keep the workload light on his end — not because you think he can’t handle it, but because he definitely seems to be pushing himself to the limit. His normally bright eyes seem duller when you catch him off guard, and the bags under his eyes are significantly heavier than before. Luckily, you’re both almost done with the whole thing after that long session in the cafe. 

That doesn’t stop Hoshi from asking you about it after class one day. You barely notice him bounding up to you until he taps you on your shoulder, his face lit up in that familiar grin. 

“Hey,” he chirps. “When should we meet to finish the project?” You can’t help but smile at him, and you lightly wave it off.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I can finish it up.” Suddenly, Hoshi stops in his tracks, gently pulling at your sleeve so that you do the same. His face is now set in a pout, which is undeniably cute but you swear you won’t fall for it this time.

“That’s not very fair,” he grumbles. You avert your gaze, nervously playing with some of your hair,

“Well, I mean, it’s just that you’re so busy—”

“And you aren’t?” He interrupts, and you look up at him. 

“I don’t run a club with a showcase coming up,” you argue, and Hoshi huffs, entirely unconvinced. After a moment, however, his expression suddenly shifts to a smile.

“How about this,” he begins. “You come to the showcase, and then afterwards we can finish the project together!” 

“Won’t you be tired?” He shakes his head immediately, the sparkle back in his eyes.

“I’d never be too tired for you.” 

You nod without even thinking, and Hoshi is excitedly bounding off before you can even consider what his words might mean.

After telling your roommate about Hoshi’s ‘compromise,’ she screams at you for a few minutes about how oblivious you are before telling you she’s going to pick out your outfit for the showcase whether you want her to or not. By the time the showcase has actually rolled around, you realize you actually do want her to figure out your outfit because suddenly you feel like you have nothing to wear.

However, she dresses you pretty simply. She shoves you into a cold shoulder style sweater you rarely ever wear and what she knows are your favorite jeans. She points to various shades of eyeshadow and has you apply it and your lip tint yourself, and as you stand in front of the mirror looking basically the same as always, you can’t help but look at her in confusion.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask, and she playfully shoves your shoulder.

“He already likes you, idiot. How you dress doesn’t really matter, I just knew you were gonna overthink it so I chose for you.” You stick your tongue out at her, annoyed at how well she knows you but grateful, nonetheless, that she’s helped you out so much. She even agrees to go to the showcase with you for moral support, since she knows you aren’t really into crowds.

The downside is that she isn’t above elbowing her way through the crowd to make sure you’re directly in front of the stage, where you and Hoshi will have a very clear view of one another. She stands beside you, squished so close that your arms brush together, and as the stage goes dark and the crowd falls silent you find yourself grabbing at her hand out of nervousness. She laughs at your antics but gives your fingers a reassuring squeeze.

A spotlight falls upon the stage, where Hoshi and the other three boys in his unit are lying on the floor in a pile, somehow still managing to look elegant. You bite down hard onto your lip the moment the music starts, and even though Hoshi isn’t the first to move you can’t seem to take your eyes off of him. This is Hoshi, you realize, so much fiercer than the tired, goofy boy you see in class. Someone has done his makeup, the eyeshadow smoked out into a dramatic wing that contrasts his pristine white clothing. 

And then suddenly you realize they’re singing. All four of them, and you swear Soonyoung’s gaze catches yours right as he begins the first chorus and you’re ready to die, you are, holy shit—

Your mind falls completely blank from then on, and you only come to again when the lights fall and the crowd erupts into applause. Your best friend yanks her hand out of your grasp to clap along with them, and you do so as well, blinking rapidly to clear your mind. She gives you a teasing look and you don’t bother to sass her; you don’t have the brain power to say anything at all.

A few more members of the dance club perform, but Hoshi doesn’t come on stage again until the fourth song. This time, he and the three other boys are dressed in all black, and you realize with sudden and extreme force that Soonyoung’s shirt is mesh. You think of all the times you’ve seen him in baggy sweaters and t-shirts, looking comfortable and cozy and overall like a great cuddler — you hadn’t ever considered he would have abs, even though you probably should have given his dancing regimen. You can feel your best friend’s elbow nudging your side, but you’re too laser-focused on Soonyoung to give her even a sliver of your attention. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been mad that a person looks sexy before. First time for everything.

When the performance ends, you’re shocked to find Hoshi’s gaze locked with yours. A shiver runs down your spine at the intensity of his gaze, and although you know you’re blushing you can’t bring yourself to look away until the lights fall once more, plunging you into darkness. You can hardly hear the applause over the thundering of your heart in your ears, and as people begin gathering their belongings and moving to the back of the auditorium space, your best friend takes hold of your arm excitedly.

“Okay, we have to go backstage!” 

That snaps you out of it.

“What? No!” You shake your head wildly, but your best friend merely continues to smile. “Most of the crew has no clue who we are, we can’t just walk backstage—”

“Well we can’t just leave after all that,” she retorts, smirking devilishly. You cover your cheeks with your hands, hoping to quell the raging blush.

“I hate you,” you grumble, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why can’t we just wait here, or—?”

“Y/N!” Your eyes snap open, and you find that your best friend is now gazing past you, towards the doors you know lead backstage. 

“Oh my God,” you breathe, barely audible, but your anxious response goes ignored as your best friend waves to Hoshi excitedly.

“Hey Hoshi! Great job tonight, is Minghao back there still?” She’s standing before he even answers her question, and you’re pretty sure she would’ve walked away regardless of if Minghao was around or not. You curse yourself for forgetting that the two are lab partners. As she walks away, you take a deep, calming breath, and fix a smile to your face. When you turn, Soonyoung is already standing in front of you, dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats with just his familiar smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greets, beaming. You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Hi.” Why does your voice sound so small? “You did great, but I’m sure you know that already.” He laughs, eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I do, but it’s still nice to hear you say it,” he replies, looking extremely pleased as you feel the blush rising high on your cheeks once again. You find yourself rendered speechless, thinking of the intensity of his eyes when they met yours on stage. Thankfully, he’s the first to break the silence, smiling fondly down at you in your seat.

“I was gonna go for bubble tea. Do you wanna come with? My treat.” Looking up into his bright, smiling eyes, you wonder how you could ever say no.

“Sure, let me just text my roommate and let her know.”

The bubble tea place Hoshi takes you to is only a few minutes’ walk from campus, and the majority of that journey is passed in amicable silence. You keep sneaking glances at Hoshi, although each time you do it makes you flustered and you ought to be avoiding that kind of situation. True to his word, when you get to the shop he pays for both of your orders before you can say a thing. As you leave the shop, preferring to walk back towards campus while the weather is nice, you find yourself breaking the silence,

“If you keep treating me like this, I’ll never be able to repay you.” You look up at him with a pout, but he just responds with his usual good humor, gently nudging you with his elbow.

“Who said anything about repaying me?” He asks. “You deserve to be treated to things, anyways.” You let out a sigh as he sips on his drink, running a hand through your hair.

“But I feel bad. I’ve hardly done anything for you since we met.” Hoshi hums, glancing at you thoughtfully for a moment before replying.

“You could repay me by going on a date with me,” he says, so casually that you nearly choke on a tapioca pearl. Thankfully, you manage to wash it down with a sip of tea, though looking into Soonyoung’s serious, star-filled gaze makes you feel just as breathless as any coughing fit would have. 

“I—” He waits patiently on your response, standing before you on the sidewalk, the gentle breeze ruffling his hair. “Wouldn’t you still be paying, then?” 

For a moment, in the silence that falls after your response, you worry that you’ve ruined it all. And then, true to his nature, he breaks into laughter, running a hand through his hair. As his face tilts slightly towards the streetlight, you realize he’s blushing — just as nervous as you are — and can’t help but smile.

“Ah, that’s a good point,” he says, sighing. He fixes you with a playful grin, “But maybe I should just keep you in debt to me.” You laugh and playfully prod his shoulder, stepping closer to him.

“Or,” you reply, slowly looking up to meet his gaze, hoping your confidence holds. “Maybe, once we ace this project, I could take you on a date.” Somehow, his eyes seem to sparkle even brighter once he hears your response, and the smile that splits across his face is blinding.

“Deal,” he says, softly, gaze falling to your lips. 

As you find the burst of confidence to close the gap between the two of you, you find yourself wondering if you’ll be able to wait until the project is finished to treat Soonyoung to that date. When he smiles against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and inadvertently pressing his cup of tea into your side, causing you to shiver and melt further into his embrace, you realize that the answer to that is no. 

And you couldn’t be happier.

[eternalstann]

Celebrity

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: swearing?? Flufff

Summary: You and Tom just so happen to each other’s celebrity crushes 🥰

"Y/N, Y/N!" The photographers called out as you walked along the red carpet. You loved your job but the photographers and paparazzi were endlessly annoying. It was your third VMA's. You'd been a very successful singer for a while now, but this year you'd done your first big movie. You'd gotten nominated for 4 awards. You gave one last smile before walking into the building. Your manager walking to your side immediately.

"You're performing at 10:15 so enjoy the show while you can- I'll come get you around 9:30. You're sitting in the front row. We wanted to push the fact that you're focusing on acting right now so we sat you next to other actors." He glanced at his phone, "Brie Larson on your left and - Tom Holland on your right." You tried to hold in your excitement at the names he said. You were a huge fan of Marvel movies, so to sit next to Captain Marvel and Spiderman?! You were ecstatic. "Thank you Donovan" you spoke, kissing him on the cheek before walking off to mingle.

You snuck behind your friend Shawn Mendes when you saw him slapping up Drake. "Omg my two favorite Canadians!" You joked, hugging Shawn and then Drake. "Y/N, you look incredible" Shawn spoke, gripping your waist and taking in your appearance. "Like a snack" Drake added, snatching you from Shawn and twirling you around. "Thank you guys! And a snack?! Y'all look like full course meals and dessert" They both laughed at your comment. "So what's the moves for tonight mamacita?" Drake asked and you smirked, "You already know, everyone back at my place for the after party" you exclaimed, already excited. "Aye!" They both cheered in unison. It was very well known you threw the best parties in Hollywood as of late. "Text me and let me know if you need anything love" Shawn hugged you again, and told him you would before walking to your seat.

You felt eyes on your back, but when you turned around there was no one there.

Little did you know your seat neighbor Tom Holland had watched your whole interaction. He was chatting with Jake Gyllenhaal, Jacob and his brother Harry when he saw you. "Holy shit, that's Y/N" Jacob whispered, pointing over at you. "Every song she makes is an absolute banger! Tom go introduce us" Harry joined in. "No fucking way she's literally talking to Drake, I can't go over there" Toms heart ached watching you giggle with the two men. He'd literally never spoken to you, but he'd developed quite the crush on you. He watched all your interviews, and loved your music. You made him feel like he was in elementary school again. "Just go!" Jake exclaimed, shoving him in your direction.

Tom stumbled before catching his stride and following behind you. He didn't know if he should jog to catch up with you, or do an awkward speed walk, so he just kept his normal pace. He mentally kicked himself when he didn't make it to you before you got to your seat. He tried to causally walk past you as you sat down, but did a double take and tripped over his own feet when he saw his face on the chair beside you. Tom literally wished the floor would swallow him up so he could disappear forever when he hit the ground in front of you.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" You ask the man laying at your feet, and you could hardly contain your excitement when you realized it was none other than Tom fucking Holland. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine" he insisted, pushing himself up with the help of your extended arm. Once he's off the ground and in his chair you introduce yourself. "Hey, I'm Y/N" you beam at him, turning your body to face him. "I know who you are, I think everyone does" he laughs, reaching out his hand for you to shake. You ignore his cue, pulling him in for a hug. "You smell really nice" he murmurs and it was your turn to laugh. "Thank you; it's so nice to meet you!" You tell him and he shakes his head. "Me?! It's nice to meet you! I'm a huge fan" he expresses and your heart races, he's a fan?

The next twenty minutes turn into a compliment competition; the two of you just spewing nice things to each other and laughing. You even joke through the start of the show, Brie shushing the two of you which only makes you laugh harder. "What are you doing tonight?" You ask him while a presenter was rambling on about something. "Nothing, why?" He quips back and he can feel himself start to sweat, were you going to ask him out?

"and the winner of the best collaboration award.....Y/N and Drake for Rewind!"

You were caught completely off guard, you and Tom both look at each other in shock. "That's you, get up there!" He exclaims, a wide smile on his face. He stands with you and walks you to the stage, he hands you off to Drake at the steps and you thank him. You reach the microphone and stand in front of the huge crowd, Drake next to you and begin to talk. "Wow, um, I really wasn't expecting this-" you cringe in your head, everyone says that- "but thank you all so much! We truly have the best fans in the world. Your support is unmatched and I love you all so much!" You cheer raising up your moon man and stepping aside to let Drake talk. You weren't even really listening to what he was saying, all you could focus on was Tom standing there staring at you with a face full of admiration. You didn't want to be corny but you were positive you were in love with him. And he looked really good. Like you wanted to tie him up keep him all to yourself good.

Next thing you know your being escorted off the stage and you hug your manager backstage. "Congratulations" he tells you and thank him, before turning to make your way back to your seat. "Girl where are you going? It's 9:26, you need to start getting ready" you sigh, you loved performing but you wanted to go back with Tom. You scroll through your Instagram while getting your hair done and see Brie Larsons story, you click on it. You smile at the selfie the two of you took. What you weren't expecting though was to see a video of you and Tom laughing together with the caption "get a room🤣🥴". You immediately go to your own profile and begin to go through your tagged pictures. A lot of you in your dress on the red carpet, screen caps of you and drake accepting the award and then boom; you and Tom. You click on reposts and screenshots of the video and read some of the captions.

'Yessss Y/N get that superhero dick!'

'Omg they look so good together- we have no choice but to stan'

'Ew bye he better stay away from the queen'

'and I oop-'

'Tom shooting his shot 👀'

'Thank you Brie Larson this is the content we deserve'

“She always fuck with white boys smh”

And so it begins you you think to yourself. You realize you never even followed Tom, on your real account at least. Only your account you use to lurk, so you press the button the blue button. Tom doesn't leave your mind the rest of the time you spend getting ready. You don't think about anything besides Tom until the time you start performing. And even then, you can't help but look for him in the crowd.

Your performance goes almost perfectly, you have the best adrenaline rush afterwards. But once again you're sat back in the hair and makeup chair. You're not gonna lie you probably needed it after how much you were sweating on stage. They bring out your dress, but it's a different one. A short backless white dress, much different from your earlier gown. "Donovan what is this?" You ask your manager. "Your dress for the party. We have to go make sure everything is all set- and yes I know you wanna go see your little boo thing Tom but we don't have time!" He replies, motioning for you to put on the dress. You groan and slip it on before following him out to the car waiting outside.

You get back to your house, doing a quick walk through to make sure everything is in place. Taste testing the food and liquor. You knew tonight was going to be crazy. Everyone would be amped up from the awards and live performances, you were starting to get excited. You were proud of your party throwing skills- until you realized you never got the chance to invite Tom. "Shit!" You shout, actually face palming. You pull out your phone and try to figure out the best way to get a hold of him. You text Zendaya- she would definitely have his number. Seven minutes go by with no response, the party starts in less than an hour. "Fuck it.." you mutter, opening Instagram and typing out a DM to Tom,

'Hey Tom, I'm throwing a party tonight and I would love for you to come. You can bring whoever you want. Hope to see you there!'

So basic, but it'd have to do. You didn't wanna look too thirsty or something. You sent the address in a separate message. You didn't even notice your leg bouncing up on down in anticipation, waiting for him to respond. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your door opening and closing, then voices. It was Shawn, Drake and some of their friends. "Hey guys" you chirp and they come over to greet you.  "Do either of you guys know Tom Holland?" You ask and they raise they're eyebrows. "No 'how are you?' Or anything first?" Drake would laugh you would just rolled your eyes, "I'm serious!"

"Spider-Man? No I don't know him, but we follow each other on Instagram" Shawn spoke. “Ughh you guys are no help-“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone dinging. It was Tom! You take a deep breath before opening the message.

“Oh I’ll absolutely be there, see you soon love. Thanks for the invite xx”

You could feel yourself swooning and let out a little squeal. “He’s coming!” You inform your guests before the doorbell rang again. You go to open it and this time there’s a multitude of people waiting to come in - not to mention the linebof black cars and limos in the round-about dropping off even more guests. Bella & Gigi Hadid, Niall Horan, Halsey, ASAP Rocky & Big Sean, Normani and more. You hug everyone who comes in, joking with Sean about his song playing through the speakers. You drink and talk with everyone, but you can’t help but keep glancing at the door. You were really waiting for one person. After half an hour you finally settle in, maybe he wasn’t coming.

You’re sitting on the couch, on Bella’s lap pretending to listen to Lewis Capaldi talk about how nervous he is for his U.S tour. Your attention is drawn to the door though when you hear a familiar laugh. “Tom!” You exclaim, unable to hide your excitement immediately going over to him. He hugs you and you wish he’d never let go. He does though before introducing you to his guests. “This is my brother Harry, and this is my friend Jacob” he informs you and you smile at both of them before embracing them as well. “It’s so great to meet you! Make yourselves at home, can I get you some drinks?” You inquire, gesturing towards the kitchen. “They got it” he spoke whisking you away.

“Listen, Y/N, I know you hear this all the time but I think you’re an amazing woman and I’d love to take you out sometime”

“I’d love that Tom!”

________________

PT 2 HERE!

lmaooo what a shitty ending, but I feel like this has potential to be a series but idk. I like Y/N and I like kind of shy Tom 🤧

Love you all, feel free to hmu ❤️

[random-imagines-blog]

Empty Handed {Cole Sprouse x Reader One Shot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3631 Summary: While you’re feeling a bit lost, you run into Cole. Old memories are brought up and things move forward.

You always seemed to be lost in your own head these days. As much as you wanted to just shut down your social media pages, you just couldn’t. The negativity on there was astounding, and the little bit of positivity you saw from your friends postings, where they were happy and beautiful and successful, wasn’t really seeming worth it anymore. It had been a struggle to leave your phone at home and go out and try to enjoy doing something, but you somehow managed it, leaving it on the charger. Though this meant that you couldn’t obsess over the comments left under your pictures, it also meant that you had no distractions from the thoughts in your head. No music to accompany you on your late evening stroll, no review sites for you to find somewhere good to pick up dinner - only your instincts and the mind-numbing repetitiveness of your own in-securities. Your feet seized the control, and led you on your way tonight, rather than an app that tracked your steps or showed you the least busy streets.

The blue hour came, the time when everything looked a bit cold and bleak. When the sky was truly a brilliant blue, before the black settled in. The street lights and the neon signs on the windows of shop-fronts, restaurants and clubs stood out more now than they did during the day. How many times have you stopped to admire this time of night? Never once because you were locked in the asylum that was called Your Phone.

You looked into the windows to keep yourself company, looking at couples eating in the fancy restaurants, the stores shutting down for the night. The blaring music of a gay dance club hit your ears and you were almost tempted to go in - just because the sound was so nice, not because you were looking for anyone. But you kept walking and found it strange how much you were enjoying the night. You could feel the air in your lungs more than you had before, you could appreciate the atmosphere. On the corner of the street ahead was a diner, the lights looking inviting. It wasn’t the destination that you had in mind, but once you caught sight of it, it was the destination that you were going to.

It seemed like it was just emptying out. There were a couple of booths still cluttered with dirty dishes, and the waitresses and waiters working hard on getting them clean before another rush. By the looks of the place, and the 24/7 sign on the door, they were awaiting the drunk club crowd. But there was still quite a while to go before that would happen, so you felt comfortable walking inside.

“Be with you in a sec, hun,” A pretty waitress said with a wink. You smiled back and picked out a booth in her section, close by to where she was cleaning. When she came by, you ordered your favorite hot drink and then decided that a late night sandwich was in order, and got one of those as well. It was a rather nice place, not kitschy like other diners out there. You’d have to remember it when you decided to be social once more. You were slowly getting back to that point - building up trust is hard,  especially when people are cruel.

“We gotta stop meeting up like this,” A familiar voice said. You didn’t have to look up to see who it was, you’d heard the voice plenty of times coming from your TV screen. But you looked up anyways, tucking your hair behind your ear for a better view. Cole Sprouse, with his dyed hair pushed behind a baseball cap, since his most popular character was well known for a beanie. The actor got into the booth across from you, picked up the small specials menu that was on each table and perused it.

“Are you stalking me?” You asked, looking around to see if anyone else noticed who was in here. If they saw him as anyone other than a young man come in to be a customer, they must not have cared. The waitress came back around with your drink, started off by offering Cole a drink and then took his order. Work as usual, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Normally I’m one having to ask that question,” Cole said with a grin. “I saw you from the window while I was walking by. And I realized that it’s been a little while.”

“Well, thanks for remembering me,” You laughed, but then quieted down a little. “Do I put out those desperate and lonely vibes so much that you noticed them from outside?”

“Not at all,” He shook his head. “Okay, maybe a little bit of the lonely vibes. I saw you order and figured you were here alone.”

“So you were watching me?”

“It’s a nice change to watch someone for once, rather than have everyone watch me,” He winked cryptically. You were reminded of the first time that you two had met, and how he had been this charming even then.

“Riverdale, right,” You nodded. “KJ Apa coming by anytime soon? You gotta introduce me, I only really watch the show for him.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Cole laughed sarcastically. The waitress came back around with his coffee and he started to pour the sugar in. “Just like how you auditioned for Suite Life because of Dylan?”

“Obviously.”

-

This was not how you wanted to spend a Saturday morning. Sure, being on the set of a Disney show was a little bit cool, but auditioning was something that you hated. The whole process of it was annoying - but it was something that you were good at, apparently. You were in the top five for a guest spot on The Suite Life on Deck. You were here to do your last audition with the actual Sprouse twins. You had to keep your impulse of squealing under control. That was another reason why you didn’t want to be here - you had a major crush on Cole Sprouse and knew you were going to fudge up the audition with him being there. It was going to be a major embarrassment - so much so that you didn’t even tell your friends you were going to be here. You tried to back out of it because you would rather them not know you exist rather than humiliate yourself, but your parents had marched you through those doors this morning and were standing guard to make sure you didn’t make a run for it.

In the middle of your audition, you did it. You messed up. You ended up combining two of your lines in a way that didn’t make sense, and you found it impossible to make eye contact with either twin. The cast director called for a cut, thanked you for your time, then announced a fifteen minute break for everyone. Feeling overwhelmingly warm, you retired over to the catering area, at the very least taking advantage of the free snacks and beverages that were put out.

“You seem like you don’t want to be here,” A voice said from behind you. Thinking that it was a set of the crew come to yell at you for stealing snacks, you shoved a couple more cookies into your pocket before turning around, getting ready to apologize. But it wasn’t a crew member - it was Cole Sprouse. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand to make sure there were no crumbs there, first and foremost.

“It’s not that,” You told them. “Well, it’s partly that, but you and your brother just make me.. I don’t know, nervous.”

“No offense but it’s going to be hard to become an actor if you get nervous around celebrities,” He grinned and walked up beside you, picking up a couple of cookies for himself.

“Good thing I don’t really want to become an actor then,” You laughed hollowly. “It’s my parents dream, not mine. And I just kind of wanted to meet Dylan.”

“Oh,” Cole said, frowning. Perhaps he wasn’t impressed by you trying to play it cool? God, you were such an awkward dork. “Well here, don’t leave empty handed anyway.”

He passed you a small stack of papers. You furrowed your eyebrows and slowly took them, reading over the front. It was the script that you had just read from, and Cole had not only signed it but put his email address on the cover in sharpie. “I was going to tell you to email me so I can give you some tips but...”

“Oh, I see.” You licked your lips, feeling like an even bigger dork now. “If I decide to get into acting, I’ll do that.”

“Cool,” The blonde boy said with a grin and a nod.

-

You did email him after that, and he did email you back. You carried on a secret correspondence for a couple of years, getting a message about once a month. You never told any of your friends about it though, even as they gushed on about how cute Cole and Dylan were. You didn’t tell them that you auditioned for the show either. They would have gotten mad at you for messing up your audition.

“I’ve heard the rumors about you and Betty,” You said, raising an eyebrow. You made a fist as if you were holding an invisible microphone and held it to his face. “Come on, the world wants to know!”

Cole cracked up at that, chuckling then leaned into it. “You all should know better than to listen to stupid celebrity gossip.”

“You’ve heard it here first folks,” You brought the microphone back to yourself. “Cole Sprouse is still on the market.”

“You’ve got your own audience now?” Cole asked, resting his elbow on the table then leaned his head against his hand, looking bored and oh so perfectly disheveled.

“Eh - the government spies on everyone, I might as well make it entertaining,” You shrugged. “You look a little down, though. Why are you out tonight?”

“Just felt a bit cooped up lately,” He said, yawning. He raised his coffee to his lips and took a big slurp of it, making you smile at the sound. “Sick of everyone I know.”

“Wow, thanks.” You snorted. He laughed back at your sound, setting the cup back down. The two of you were just full of unappealing noises tonight.

“Not you, obviously. Never you.”

“Well - actually thanks. I guess I needed that.” You looked out the window, seeing a couple of people pass by. You could hear them laughing at talking at the same time, just enjoying themselves. Nothing at all like you and the miserable actor sitting in this restaurant. “Do you want to come over or something tonight?”

The question came out of you before you really realized that it was what you were thinking. Being out in public like this probably wasn’t ideal for him. Another reason you dropped out of the acting life.

“Are you throwing a party or something?” He asked.

“God no. You know I hate parties.”

-

Everybody was going to be there, so of course, you had to be there. That was the reasoning that your dorm-mate at NYU claimed as she she helped you to do your hair and pick out an outfit. You would much rather have stayed in and studied, but then again, you didn’t have all that many friends here and this was a good opportunity to make more. So you agreed.

It was just like parties always seemed in the movies - full of trust fund kids, alcohol and sex. You weren’t all that interested in any of the three, but your roommate put a bottle of beer in your hand and disappeared to go off with her own friends, leaving you on your own. You didn’t even know exactly where you were, or how to get back to your dorm from here, but hey - the University experience right? You left the kitchen area of the fraternity house and ventured into the living room to see - even more sex. The couch was being treated as a bed, and you felt bad for whoever was going to have to clean this up.

You kept walking until you found the door to the outside. It was lively out here, but at least you felt like you could breathe without the air being filled with alcohol and weed fumes.

“Where’s the table of snacks when you need it?” A voice said. You couldn’t tell if it was talking to you or to someone else, so you stood still, watching the action of idiots pushing each other into the pool. “That is you, y/n right? Or this is really embarrassing.”

Since your name was brought up, you looked at where the voice was coming from and saw Cole there. You still emailed about once a month, and you both knew that each other went here but it never went further than that. This is the first time that you laid eyes on him as an actual person since that audition years ago.

“Whoa, hey!” You said, a little surprised. “Yeah, I could use a handful of cookies right now, that’s for sure.”

“We should go try and raid the kitchen, you in?” He asked, giving you a devilish grin. He almost reminded you of Peter Pan with that particular look.

“Anything is better than this,” You said, setting the unopened beer onto the closest table. You weren’t much of a drinker, and you wanted to be able to coordinate your way back to your dorm after this, so the beer wasn’t appealing tonight.

You two got split up in the kitchen though, due to the crowds. Cole had some friends who managed to pull him away from you without the chance to say goodbye. Instead you just waved awkwardly and tried to find your dorm-mate to tell her that you were leaving. You found her, and had a hard time convincing her to come back with you. “I only just got here, come on,” She whined.

“You can come back after! I just need you to show me the way.” You pouted, and she finally agreed, linking her arm with you and taking you out front.

“Hey, are you taking off?” Cole caught up with you once you were close to the street. Your roommate stopped in her tracks, unable to believe what she was seeing.

“Yeah, I’m not that into parties,” You shrugged.

“Don’t leave empty handed,” He said, tossing you a box of cookies that he had found in the kitchen.

-

Cole agreed to come to your place when you finished your drinks and your food. You took half of your sandwich to go, and carried the styrofoam packet in your hand as you two walked down the street. It was dark now, the street lights all turned on, lighting up the city almost as much as it was during the day. The two of you remained quiet as you walked, your steps aligning almost perfectly, keeping the same rhythm.

“This is me,” You said, stopping at your place. You unlocked all the doors then let him in, turning on the lights as you went. You were glad that you kept the place tidy, or else you really might have regretted this.

“I like it,” Cole said, looking around your place without the slightest bit of shame. He went through the knick-knacks, the bookshelf, even peeked into your fridge.

“Help yourself to a drink or something. Or I can put the coffee on,” You offered.

“I’ll just have some water,” He said, grabbing the water filter out of the fridge and poured himself some into a glass. You sat down on your couch as he did that, and started up Netflix. You didn’t know if you were going to watch something or not, but you enjoyed having background noise.

“Any preference?” You called out.

“Anything that has nothing to do with me,” He said from the kitchen. You laughed and went through the action section, deciding on one of the many Fast and the Furious movies. At the very least, the driving scenes were good times for conversation.

Cole eventually joined you on the couch, plopping himself down with a bag of baby carrots and his water. He really had gone through your fridge and helped himself, but you didn’t mind. Being a single person living in an apartment, sometimes food went to waste because you couldn’t eat it fast enough.

“If you keep that up, I might just have to kiss you,” Cole said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You tilted your head in confusion. That was very out of the blue. “You keep staring at my lips,” He stated.

“Actually, I was noticing you helping yourself to my vegetables, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” You grabbed a pillow and wrapped your arms around it as a sort of safety measure. Was he going to kiss you? Did he say that because he wanted to?

“You’re more than welcome to come back to mine and eat whatever you want,” Cole said, apparently not sensing your mood since he kept it casual. You looked over at him and watched as he threw a carrot into the air, then caught it between his teeth. You separated yourself from the pillow for fifteen seconds to give him applause. “We live pretty close to each other.”

“Does that mean I’ll be having to deal with you more often?” You joked, hoping it wasn’t too mean. He shrugged, and threw up another carrot - this one he missed and it ended up hitting his chin then sliding down his shirt.

“Yeah, probably,” He said, making the idiotic move of putting his hand down the neckline of his shirt to try to dig it out. You rolled your eyes before just making the move to lift his shirt up at the bottom to see it was stuck on his belly button. “This is why you almost made valedictorian.”

“Yeah, understanding gravity definitely had a hand in that,” You giggled. “So what was it that you were saying about kissing?”

“I don’t know, sounds like something a cool character would say.”

“So not one of yours then?” You teased, since he didn’t seem to mind it. He got a good laugh out of that, scooping the carrot off of his belly and popped it into his mouth. “Since when do you try to be like made up characters? You’ve been pretty good at sticking to who you are.”

“I guess,” He said, looking back towards the television so you could take in the full sight of his profile. “Did you really never realize that I had a crush on you for years? I take back the valedictorian comment.”

“Oh ha ha, we’re such jokers,” You said sarcastically. That one was a bit too personal for your tastes.

“No, really. You think I just gave my email out to everyone who auditioned?”

“I thought I was just so bad that you really felt the need to give me tips,” You pointed out.

“I only said that because I thought you liked Dylan.”

“I’ve literally never spoken to your brother,” You said, continuing to look at him. You were waiting for a telltale grin or smirk. “I only said that because some teen magazine told me to make guys jealous by liking their friend or brother or something.”

“And then I snuck out of the party with my friends to get a box of cookies for you at a party...” Cole reminded.

“You bought those? I thought you stole them from the kitchen...”

“You really are clueless.”

The two of you remained silent for a while. You clutched the pillow close to your chest, Cole stared forward, absent-mindedly shoveling carrots into his mouth, and the movie went on with it’s girls in bikinis, fast cars and horrible one-liners.

“So you’re just going to leave me here empty-handed?” You asked after a couple more minutes of that. Cole looked like he was deep in thought about something, and had suddenly remembered that you really were there. He turned to look at you, and you felt like he really was looking. Your messy hair, your casual street clothes, your lack of make up. But you didn’t feel ashamed about any of that, since there wasn’t any judgment in his gaze.

“Do I ever?” He asked finally.

“No, you’ve been pretty consistent,” You said, licking your lips in anticipation. His hand found its way to your cheek, where you could feel how cold it was from what he had been eating. It sent a little shiver down your spine but it was a good feeling. You liked it. He didn’t move the pillow away from you in an effort to get closer, he respected your space, which was also a nice change from the grabby guys you have dated before.

The first kiss between you and Cole, the first of many, was very sweet, and very soft. It was quick, but it lingered, his lower lip just slightly touching your upper as you both inhaled.

“By tradition, one of us should be leaving now,” He breathed out.

“Don’t you dare, Sprouse.”