#sitting on a swing right now at night with music blasting into my headphones would be great

[bird1e-painty]

the urge to just get away from home and just walk around, being alone at night

it’s very calming

would anyone come looking for me? would they notice?

[spidernuggets]

may I request form the Jason prompts thing? 4 and 7, maybe gender neutral or male reader comforts Jason after he gets a flashback or a nightmare or something along those lines?

Jason Todd x Reader

"Can you just- hold my hand.. please" "You. Me. Cuddle."

You probably shouldn't have had your headphones on at full blast this late at night. If you didn't, then you probably would've heard Jason's footsteps sounding heavier than usual. You probably would've noticed the darker bags under his eyes and the frown that looked like it had been permanently stitched to look that way on his face.

You were cooking a late... or early.. you weren't too sure, but you were cooking a good meal for Jason when he'd come home. You didn't think he'd come earlier than expected. So you didn't notice his presence or his depressed state.

All Jason wanted to do was rip his stupid armour off of him, get into something more comfortable, and go to bed. He didn't have it in him right now to give you your daily affection. But during times like this, where Jason is too mentally exhausted to express his love, you always understood. And Jason always appreciated you for it, especially how he constantly tells himself that it isn't fair to you and that you deserve better. But you always shushed him whenever he brought up the subject by giving him a big smooch.

He made a beeline to your shared room to finally change out of his armour. He was having another episode, and you'd always notice and give him space. But you didn't even know he was home. Jason didn't know you didn't know he was home.

You were vibing a little too much to the loud music you were listening to and accidently knocked over a small steel pot that was placed by the edge of the sink.

"Shit," you muttered, rushing over to the fallen pot, placing it in the sink and wiping off the residue on the floor. That's when you heard a loud sound of something falling over. Someone was in your room.

You quickly check your phone. Jason always messaged you when he was on his way home. And there were no recent messages sent by him. Your heart raced, scared an intruder had broken in and was in your room.

So you grabbed the bat that leaned against the corner of the kitchen, holding it up in the air, ready to swing at whoever had the dumb idea of breaking in. You were relieved that Jason taught you simple defence strategies.

When you shoulder your way through the door, you are ready to swing, but you immediately stop. Your eyes widen when you say a crying Jason Todd tucked away in the corner of your shared bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers, sitting up in a foetal position, muttering quiet pleads.

"No- no, no please. Let me- let me go, stop," you can barely hear what he's saying. His voice sounds hoarse and dry, and his chest is heaving. His breathing is heavy and unsteady.

When you softly call out his name, Jason slowly lofts his head up. But what he sees instead of you holding the bat, it's the Joker holding that damn crowbar.

"NO," he starts screaming, holding his arms out in defence, trying to back into the wall impossibly closer. "GET- GET THE FUCK AWAY," his voice cracks and he starts choking on his extremely dry throat. You know that with what he sees, you can't get yourself any closer. So you slowly put your hands up to surrender, making sure Jason sees, and you slowly walk out the door and gently shut it behind you.

You know that Jason needs his space to calm down. Every breakdown takes a different length of time when Jason would calm down. Sometimes, it would be 15 minutes. Other times, it would be a day or two. Either way, you patiently wait for him to come back to you.

You made yourself a good, hot cup of chai and sat on the couch, reading Jason's annotated 'Lord of the Flies'. You make wure not to where your headphones now, preparing your love and care for when Jason comes around.

You turn your head when you hear the bedroom door quietly open, followed by sniffles and the sounds of Jason's feet padding along the wooden floorboards. You send him a soft smile as he walks over to you. But he only stops at a distance.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He couldn't look at you in fear that you'd be looking at him in fear or.. or hate or anger. He couldn't bear seeing those kinds of looks in your eyes.

You sigh, and Jason thinks that you'd scream at him back or something. But the little voice in his head is yelling at you, saying that you should be screaming at him. Because you don't deserve to be with someone who can't control what he sees or when he has a meltdown.

But you stand up, closing the distance towards you, slowly and cautiously reaching your hands up towards his face, cradling his cheeks as you caress them with your thumbs.

"You wanna talk about what happened?" You ask. You wanted to laugh at the thought of if you asked that any softer, Jason wouldn't have heard you the first time. But right now, you're concerned about the state of him.

"I- I just.." He hiccups, and you whisper to him, telling him to take his time. "A kid died tonight. Bevause I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't able to save her. She was just a child, Y/n," he cries, fresh tears rolling down over the dried ones. "Bruce and Dick sent me home early because I almost killed the guy who killed her, and..." He stops, choking out a sob. You run your fingers through his hair, listening and patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Bruce said that..." He beginds to say, but his sentence dies out. He doesn't know if he can repeat what Vruce had told him.

"What? What did Bruce say?" You ask. You appreciated Bruce's dedication and commitment as Batman, and you respected his morals of not acting as jury, judge, and executiomer. But most times, Bruce makes a lot of decisions where he believes that he always makes the right decision, where he's a hypocrite towards his morals. Minus the executioner. He shows this off by making decisions on what he decided is best for his sons. And sometimes, Bruce makes the wrong decision.

"He said that if I killed the guy, I might as well be at the same level of sanity as the Joker," he says quietly, a whine coming out at the end followed by another sob.

Sorry, what?

Your soft expression turns into a sharp glare. Bruce said what? You always knew Bruce said shit he didn't mean just to get his point across, but this is crossing a line that you will not excuse.

"He said what?" You snarled. You wanted to slam Bruce's head through the wall.

Jason continues his explanation. "When I came home, I just wanted to go to bed. But- but I heard something fall. It was loud. It... It just sounded like the crowbar."

You instantly felt so much guilt. You weren't focused, and you knocked over the pot. You were part of the reason that Jason had a massive freak out.

You held his face once more, bringing his head closer to yours, leaning your forhead against his.

"I'm so sorry, my love. That was my fault," you admit. "I wasn't focused, I had my music on so loud, I accidently knocked over a pot- I'm so, so sorry."

Jason sniffles once more. "It's okay," he weakly says. "Just wanna sleep."

You nod, letting go of his face and following him into your room.

When he gets into bed, you notice how he lies himself at the edge of the bed. This tells you how he just needs your presence but minimum contact.

"You need a pillow in between?" You ask as you sat on the bed. In times similar to this, you'd put a pillow in between the two of you so no sudden contact would scare Jason.

"No.. no I.." He hesitates as you tilt your head in confusion. ""Can you just- hold my hand.. please" He asks, looking up at you.

You smile, lying yourself at a safe distance so you wouldn't roll over to Jason in your sleep. You tuck one arm under your head, your other hand reaching out to hold his. Jason moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. And for the first time for the night, he feels like he can breathe.

He closes his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon. And you stay up, watching over him til he falls asleep. And maybe you stayed awake a little longer to make sure he doesn't have a nightmare.

The next morning, you wake up significantly earlier than you normally would. You look to your side and see your hand still connected to Jason's. You slowly let go, pausing when Jason starts stirring, but you carefully get out of bed when he continues to sleep peacefully.

You took the opportunity to start making Jason's favourite breakfast. A quick fried egg and avocado toast. But before yoh can even take the pan out, you hear Jason's heavy footsteps come out of the bedroom.

"Hi, Jay. I'm just gonna make you some breakfast, yeah?" You say. When you turn around, you see that Jason is definitely in a happier mood than yesterday, and you smile widely.

But Jason shakes his head at your offer. He points to you, then himself, then throws his thumb behind him, pointing towards your bedroom.

"You. Me. Cuddle." He says, a small smile tugging at his lips, and this gets you giddy.

"What about breakfast? You didn't eat last night," you say concerned. But Jason just scoffs, walking towards you and throwing you over his shoulder, giving your butt a light slap before walking towards your room.

"Someone wole up in the right side of the bed," you laugh as Jason lays you down on the bed.

He walks around the bed, lying himself down too, opening his arms, waiting for you to come into his embrace, in which you happily throw yourself into.

Your arms are wrapped around his torso as his own are cradling your figure. His lips are resting against your forhead while your head is laod on his chest.

"Thank you," he mutters. "For last night."

"Of course, Jay," you reply. "I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what," you promise.

"And thanks for putting up with me," he says even quieter, feeling his lips mumble against your forhead.

Your brows knot together, your head lifting up to look at him. "Jason, I don't 'put up with you'," you say in disbelief. "I do this because I love you. Unconditionally. Why wouldn't I be there for my favourite person?" You say, pressing a kiss on his chin.

Jason smiles. Even if a part of him will always think you deserve better than him, he just lives in the moment and basks in your everlasting love.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too."

[baddestbittyontheblock]

ellie williams fic recs (2)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

my absolute favs: 🌱

꒷꒦  affinity - part 1 by @whore-era ellie williams x fem!reader | angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

-after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

꒷꒦  as sweet as the sound by @xo-cori ellie williams x fem!reader | smut (MDNI), fingersucking, ellie is a filthy bottom idc, they’re a lil high but who isn’t in this economy

-she’s undeniably talented, but your girlfriend is just a bit too self-critical of her work.

꒷꒦  "what would you do if i went to touch you now?" by @louswrld11 ellie williams x fem!reader | wlw relationship, moderndayau!, whiny ellie (dying), oral, fingering, ellie's a switch?? wow, face sitting (i literally screamed into my pillow), cuddling!!!, ellie begging??omg yes pls, reader being more of a dom, ellie being a bit of a brat. literally just lesbians i mean what more could you want.

-ellie hates it when you're not paying attention to her

꒷꒦  where it all begins by @ijtaimes ellie williams x reader | pinning , jealousy , awkward tension? , ellie being mean to a kid, ellie being awkward, banter (lots of it because i live laugh love banter!), mentions of c*m

-summer is back in full swing, which means you’re back to being a camp counselor for moody, grumpy and hormonal middle schoolers. this summer however, is different! camp harmony hills has been renovated and the group of kids this year seem slightly more pleasant. not to mention, you have not one but two girls crushing on you. whew! but…something still is different about this year…the rumors are back and things seem a little. odd.

꒷꒦  wedding blurb by @spaceshipellie top!ellie x femme!bottom!reader | tlou au, ellie and readers wedding, touching in public, bathroom sex, fingering + eating out (r receiving), MDNI

-“you wanna love me right now, you wanna get alone with me”

꒷꒦  ellie headcanons pt 4 by @inf3ct3dd loser!ellie x reader

-loves matching with you. keychains, shoes, outfits, literally anything. if you have dyed hair, she’d dye a piece of hers to match you.

꒷꒦  hot to go! by ^ ellie williams x reader

-you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

꒷꒦  ellie fic by @dinasfavslut ellie williams x fem!reader | 18+ mndi!, smoking, sexual thoughts, cussing, pet names, teasing, smut (oral, fingering, slight mention of strap, squirting)

-everyone is aware that ellie smokes; we have all seen it. of course, there are also the dealer ellie fics, picture ellie making the reader squirt for the first time while high!

꒷꒦  brothers bestfriend ellie; by @hhayden222 ellie williams x reader | {sfw}

꒷꒦  ellie drabble/blurb by @amourrs  ellie williams x fem!reader | smut 18+, ai audios

-one where you wear ellie’s flannel and neither of you actually end up leaving the house

꒷꒦  store owner! ellie by @dollyhao ellie williams x reader | smut, doggy, squirting, strap in use (r!recieving)

꒷꒦ sending nudes to a high ellie by ^ ellie williams x reader | high ellie, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

-“baby…” ellie says through the phone sounding desperate as ever. she missed her girl friend so bad. she went on a friends trip with jesse and dina. you couldn’t come because you had to work still.

꒷꒦ nothing's gonna hurt you baby... by @cottontears modern au established gf ellie williams x fem reader | slight angst, hurt reader, ellie comforts her, fluff ensues, shitty friends

-ellie comforts you and saves you from your shitty friends

꒷꒦ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒 + 𝐟𝐞𝐦!reader. by @iactuallykissedsharawheeler ellie williams x reader | weed mention

꒷꒦ gf!ellie headcannons by @phantombriide ellie williams x reader | mdni, loser gf!ellie, annoying gf!ellie, mentions of head/sex, mentions of making out, ellie's a clown and you're sick of it but love it so much, swearing and fluff

-gf!ellie who you've been friends with since junior year of high school.

꒷꒦ sweet blurb by ^ ellie williams x fem!reader

-ellie who loves coming home from patrol to a messy house. usually it's the other way around because no one wants to come home from work to a mess to clean up, but it's not like that at all.

꒷꒦ smut blurb by @wrtinginblood  ellie williams x fem!reader | pregnancy mention, nsfw

-ellie fucking you when you’re, like, newly pregnant and she’s sooo feral and excited for you to get all swollen with her baby

꒷꒦ texts with gf!ellie pt.3!! by @bellaramslover ellie williams x reader | mentions of smoking/drinking, implied sex, a little arguing

-Part 1 here!, Part 2 here!

꒷꒦ ellie fic by @d3arapril ellie williams x reader | 18+ minors dni, smut(obviously), dom!ellie, language, ellie has a dirty mouth, an ass slap.

-“cover her mouth and make her listen to how wet she is” aka jackson!ellie putting in WORK.

꒷꒦ sub service top ellie blurb by @seattlesellie ellie williams x reader | smut

꒷꒦ groupchat with ellie, dina and jesse part 2 by @elsweetheart ellie williams x fem!reader

-trying to organise going out to eat, and jesse can’t seem to catch a break.

꒷꒦ being a menace to dealer!ellie in the night part two by ^ ellie williams x reader

-you tried everything to get to sleep. you’d counted sheep, you had tried counting back from one thousand, you’d sat up and read a book— nothing was working.

꒷꒦ texts with ellie by @ellieslaces ellie williams x reader | fem!reader, suggestive conversations, harsh language, mentions of dark humor, use of pet names (babe, baby, sweet girl, etc), mentions of college!dealer!ellie

-a collection of messages between ellie and the reader! made by me. essentially this is my idea of what some daily conversations would be like with ellie if she were your girlfriend <3

꒷꒦ types of kisses with ellie by @elliesprettygirl ellie williams x reader | pure fluff

-how ellie would kiss you

꒷꒦ ellie playing the sims headcanons by ^ ellie x gf!reader | loser!ellie if you squint

-ellie being adorable

꒷꒦ ellie with a breeding kink by ^ ellie williams x reader

-"slow and steady"

꒷꒦ ellie williams and her clingy-ness by @lillysbigwilly ellie williams x reader

꒷꒦ my sweet girl by @evera-era ellie williams x afab!reader | friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!

꒷꒦ ellie blurb by ^ ellie williams x reader

-reader has a dream where ellie liked someone else or something (you know how a lot of couples go through this😭) and gets mad at her and Ellie is like “it was just a dream babe” and it’s all fluffy and cute

꒷꒦ f**k you by ^ ellie williams x afab!reader | hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim

-ellie couldn’t stand you. she found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. which was the biggest problem, ever.

꒷꒦ adventure time blurb by @savannahsdeath ellie williams x reader

-ellie and reader lying down on the bed while they’re watching adventure time, and all the time that princess bubblegum and marceline shows off, ellie is like “omg look at us!!”

꒷꒦ lover girl!ellie headcanons by @itsbecomeblue ellie williams x reader | nsfw with warning near the end, swearing, basically fluff, ellie and reader play soccer, puppy love, slightly loser!ellie, not explicit if reader is fem or masc

-highschool romance with ellie

꒷꒦ there's two ways to squirt by @bambiesfics ellie williams x reader | water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

-reader has a full bladder and is trapped in ellie william’s hatchback.

꒷꒦ once again, for the first time (1/3) 🌱 by @lovelettersfromluna ellie williams x reader | ANGST!!!, ellie is an oblivious idiot, quiet!reader, momentary alternative love interest, jealous!ellie, possessive!ellie

-being in love with your best friend has got to be one of the most emotionally exhausting things someone can experience, so it’s time you put your foot down and moved on….at least, try to move on

꒷꒦ silver springs (2/3) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | SMUT!!! 18+, mdni, alcohol and marijuana usage, jealous!ellie, slight asshole!ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing

-a step by step guide on how not to get over ellie fucking williams

꒷꒦ linger (3/3) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | smut!! mdni!! 18+, ellie and reader are both very sad and very stubborn, angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol usage, mention of marijuana, making out, pet names, oral (ellie receiving), tribbing

-back home for the holidays after hooking up with your best friend, who you also happen to be madly in love with...what could possibly go wrong.

꒷꒦ blossom (1/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!! smut!! angst!! (is it a fic of mine if there isn’t angst at this point), small town!ellie, it’s summer time ofc hehe, fingering (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), petnames, ellie hurt reader in the past but is extremely desperate for her now, lots of kissing

-ellie broke up with you in high school right before she left for college. At the time, it left you devastated….five years later, she’s back. And she’s back for you.

꒷꒦ 20 something (2/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | angst!! ellie is an idiot in this one, joel being a dad figure to reader, alcohol usage, reader gets a lil drunk, jealous!reader

-how you ain’t say you was movin’ forward? Honesty hurts when you’re gettin’ older, I gotta say I’ll miss the way you need me.

꒷꒦ the perfect girl (1/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!!, ANGST, eventual smut just not in this chapter, mentions of sex, mutual pining, ellie is sort of a dick but she isn’t necessarily mean (don’t worry you’ll see), lead singer!reader, use of alcohol and marijuana, rock star life style so lots of partying, reader is a badass

-the amount of tension between you and your guitarist is fucking ridiculous.

꒷꒦ sweet little lies (2/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!!! Eventual smut, ellie is selfish point blank period, reader is extremely sad, some making out but doesn't lead to much, ANGST!!!!

-being on tour with someone you’ve been ignoring for two months is hard…but doable

[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.

[bubblyhoney]

buncha kisses

warnings: mature language, Good music mention, slight suggestive content, lotta name calling!, basically just fluff

tags: sapnap x fem!reader (a continuation of [renamed from “a collection of moments at the beginning of your relationship”] win for me, basically, with college!au)

words: 1447

A/N: a very sweet anon requested a continuation of college!au with sappy and had some great ideas for me! i love when you guys interact and talk with me pls continue to do so! been receiving a lot of really encouraging attention from some of my favorite people (ahem, for example @strawberrymilkgeorge [among others] <3) so i just wanted to say thanks for that :)

-

It’s a sticky day in May.

It’s that kind of hot that irritates under the skin and works its way through the hair on your arms. Makes you want to either rip your skin off or sink into a pool full of ice.

May is a month that Florida doesn’t take very well; it’s either raining like it’s the Great Flood, or hot as a mosquito’s ball sack.

And to make matters worse, it’s the due date of a huge calculus project. Like— weighted heavier than the final kind of huge.

You’d gotten up three hours before your final at 9 just to cram. Your desk was littered with folders, chapter notes, and highlighters dull with use. A half-eaten bagel was off to the side, staling by the second.

That was before your AC broke. Yup. Broke. Ka-put. Just full on died—it was almost audible. Your roommate had stumbled into your room, face creased with sleep, and cursed for thirty seconds straight.

Completely understandable, actually.

But you didn’t have time to fret about the damn temperature. You just took your shirt off, kicked the box fan near your bed into the highest gear, and breathed hot anger down into your notes.

The only relief you would find would be lunch with Sapnap after your final. His apartment had air conditioning, and he was surprisingly deft with a knife and cutting board. Dude didn’t know how to figure the mechanics for emailing his film class project to you that one time last semester but could whip up a Greek salad and broiled chicken like no other. Your own little Gordon Ramsey.

He was yours now, officially. As of last month he was yours. A month full of drive-in movies, failed study dates, and an absurd amount of McFlurry’s.

And that’s what is waiting for you in Sapnap’s cup holder when you swing your way into his car with an exasperated look on your face. You just melt, eyes flicking up to his gratefully and silently taking it.

“How was the final?” He lays a hand on the gear shifter and nudges the AC up one more tick. The door closes behind you and you shuffle your legs apart, leg hair tingling in this heat.

“It was fucking brutal. I think I developed an ulcer just looking at the reference page,” you huff and he just shakes his head, laugh hot on his lips. “Absolutely not worth the studying—think I got a good grade, though.”

“Well, that’s cool. I’m proud of you.” The engine chugs to life when he shifts into drive and starts for the side street.

“Thanks.” Your cheeks blush ever so lightly but you pass it off to the heat. A moment passes. “So.” The straw makes a choking noise as it nudges at the bottom of an empty cup. Jesus, you finished that fast. “What’s on the menu for today?” Brandy’s Sunny Day lilts softly into the blasting air as you settle into a comfortable conversation, schoolwork at the back of your mind.

“Thinking of making banana chocolate chip muffins and pigging on those. Thoughts?” Flicking on his left turn signal with his left hand, the right slides onto your knee.

It’s never too hot for that.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, voice small in a sudden bout of shyness. He double-takes with a smile, squeezing once at your leg.

Pigging is a perfect term for what you two do the second those muffins are out of the oven; it is too easy to shove three of those in a matter of seconds. Bellies full and in a sugar coma, you two lay under the whirring of his living room’s fan and stare up at the ceiling.

“This feels so good,” he mumbles, eyes half-lidded. Reaching a hand out, he pats his way to your hand and takes it, immediately squeezing it. “Wish you were kissing me right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” You taunt and hike a leg up onto his hips, swinging onto his lap and leaning to get your lips near his.

And that’s that.

The night is perfect.

Sapnap ushered you into his car at midnight and within four minutes you were on a US freeway with your head out the window. Like a dog.

A lone bird flies past in the dark air and you watch it swing into a patch of trees. You just close your eyes and breathe.

The stress literally melts. Melts into a puddle and drips out of you, falling onto the black pavement whipping past at a moment’s notice. School is a bitch already, much less an American college education. Grades and tests and professors and GPA’s and all that.

You swear Logan Lerman’s character knew what he was talking about when he said “we were infinite” in The Perks of Being A Wallflower. That’s what this feels like: infinity. Going 70 in a car driven by your hunk of a boyfriend, feeling the wind in your hair and the taste of midnight in between your teeth.

The inside of the car feels sweet when you duck your head back in, smile wide and hair crazy and a content look in your eyes. Sapnap gives you a glance before looking back at the road nonchalantly and lifting to curl and twitch two fingers at you. You instinctively move forward, eyebrows drawn together in curiosity. Three fingers grip your jaw tight, and then his mouth is on yours as the chorus of The King swells through the speakers. You only get two seconds to hum in happiness and slide a hand up his chest before he’s pulling away and has those beautiful eyes back on the road.

“You’re mean to me,” you sigh, and settle back into your seat with a ‘hmph’. He just looks smug. Bastard.

The nights Sapnap plays video games with his friends are—hm. Definitely something. You like to let him have those nights with no distractions most of the time; and you’re categorized as a distraction by the amount of times he “lags” when giving you a kiss or getting you on his lap.

Tonight, he got off work early and on the drive home called and asked if you’d come over and sit with him while he Robloxes with his friends. (“It’s like you can’t go one day without your hands on me,” you’d teased, but he couldn’t say a thing in response. You were right, needless to say.) “You can bring your paints!” he’d even added, knowing you like to watercolor as a hobby. You weren’t necessarily Etsy-worthy but it was fun and a stress-reliever.

And so here you were. Legs crossed, sketch pad in your lap, watching your adult boyfriend yell so loud that his voice cracks and breaks with every change of tone. You really had to remember to apologize to his neighbors…

“Baby—,” Sapnap starts, swinging around in his chair to hit you with a look so pouty his lip was in danger of falling off. “My dear girlfriend. My lovely woman.” His question doesn’t even need to be asked— he wants you to go get him a drink.

“You’re a misogynist. I’m calling NOW on you.” But you’re already heaving yourself off of his mattress and heading into the hallway, faux-annoyed look on your face. It melts into a smile upon seeing that little canvas mounted on the wall next to the door to his bathroom. It was a haphazard portrait of his parent’s dog Bowser that you’d drawn the few days his step-mom forced him to bring you home over spring break.

When you return to his room a few minutes later with a Bang and a couple of snacks for yourself, Sapnap has his headphones off and is swinging his feet in his chair like a child waiting for their parents to pick them up from school. You approach him, apprehensive smile on your face, and hand his drink over.

“Thank you,” he drawls, mid-yawn, and sets it down on the desk. Snaking an arm around your waist, he drags you between his legs and stuffs his face into your shirt. He inhales deeply but pulls away after a pause, hands tight on your abdomen. You press a thumb into his cheek and rub fondly at his facial hair, watching the way his eyes close calmly and relax.

“You’re so cute it causes me physical pain,” is all you get out before leaning and pressing a kiss square on his pink lips. They move against yours like they were meant to, one hand sliding up the material of your shirt and onto your warm skin.

“You smell like Subway,” he murmurs, and then the moment’s over.

Typical.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

[thenineheadedkitsune]

✨ ask game ✨

Name a movie that makes you feel like a kid again.

The Lion King or the Lego Movie. There's so many parts I used to rewind just so I could stay upstairs away from everone else longer, so I have whole sections of the movie memorized.

Name something that takes you back to your childhood/your idea of childhood.

Swingsssss I love swings so much.

Name a song that you’d sing at the top of your lungs during a night drive.

It changes on how I feel, so right now it would be Sweater Weather, Darkest Desire, and Can't Be Erased.

Name your favourite flower.

Leopard Orchid.

Name something that makes you immediately relax.

Stolas' song You Will Be Ok. Literally I noticed that in the song there's parts where you are forced to steadily breathe if you're singing it. It's super cool.

Name a way you show your love.

Forgetting about what I need and focusing on what my partner needs.

Name a planet you would love to visit.

Saturn, it's fascinated me since my Uncle said it was full of poisonous gas when I was three.

Name a trait your imaginary friend would have.

Caring and understanding. Basically someone I could vent to and they'd listen to me and tell me how to solve the issue in a loving way.

Name a dream that you wish you could experience again.

My first dream that gave me inspiration to write my book series. It was a wonderful dream and I would love to experience it again.

Name your favourite sound.

Don't judge, the sound of a fan.

Name a scent you wish you could smell forever.

Lavender.

Name the most recent time you’ve felt truly happy.

Today when I was sitting in the grass with the person I love, they were so happy and it made me so happy and I wish I could see them like that all the time.

Name a small thing you do to make your day better.

Get lost in my stories.

Name a musician that soothes you.

Nightcove_thefox and Awolnation.

Name something that tastes like freedom.

Music.

Name an emotion that seems unreal.

True love.

Name one of those moments that feel out of this world.

Going to an amusement park its so much fun I wish I could do it more than I already do.

Name a mythical creature you would love to meet.

Either a Griffen or a Kitsune.

Name something that drives you.

My passion to help others believe that there is hope and that there is a way in their dark times.

Name something that you’re both proud and ashamed of.

Writting some stories that I probably shouldn't share with my parents *cough cough* Some of my best stories are the ones that people don't read; let's keep it that way Lol

Name a feature the ideal you would have if there were no such things as society’s expectations: scales, wings, fangs, a flower growing on top of your head - just go for it, love.

Wings. Literally just wings. How amazing and peaceful does it sound to have the skies all to yourself (with the few birds of course lol) and to be able to touch the clouds while blasting your favorite songs in your headphones. Literally no one to watch you lose yourself in the music or anything just absolute freedom.

Name a superpower you used to wish you had as a child.

Invisability. I think it would've helped me escape certain situations.

Name a superpower you wish you had now.

The power to have others feel how I truely feel so they don't think I'm faking my emotions.

Name a way your friends can make you feel better on bad days.

Either being complete goof balls or comforting me with hugs and cuddles and telling me that it will be ok.

Name something you long for.

True love and someone that will accept me for who I am and love me just as much as I love them.

Name the silliest thing that you’re afraid of (fish touching your skin, anything that feels slimy, bees or bugs getting too close…).

Needles. I know, it's stupid, but needles. You bring them near me and I will cry no joke.

Name something that makes you feel like yourself.

Music and art.

@irony-innit @neontrickster

[steepgan]

t. oikawa - the balcony

in which you befriend your neighbor during quarantine. gn reader.

To put it briefly, your neighbor across from you will not be quiet.

Everyone is cooped up in their respective apartments due to a pandemic, and this guy decides to have a party every goddamn day. You can hear his music when you’re in the shower, and sometimes you don’t want to listen to Firework by Katy Perry. Sometimes you want to listen to One Direction.

Your apartment is situated oddly. The neighbor you speak of is not across the hall from you (if he was, you might have already filed a complaint). Instead, your apartment is given a balcony that directly faces the neighbor in question’s balcony.

Below the balconies is a small street that has passerbyers and chatting people that are looking for a shortcut. You get the occasional street cat that yowls in the trash cans at night and fights with raccoons. They are far more pleasant company than your neighbor.

In other words, the loud neighbor lives in a different apartment complex from you.

Every day is a new horror. Once, there was nonstop playing of Lorde’s Melodrama album (to which you were so concerned to the point of finding your neighbor a therapist), and the next day, there were strange trumpet noises (where did this guy find a trumpet during Covid?)

After the third week of the neighbor’s incessant noise, you take it upon yourself to ask your neighbors if they, too, are perturbed by the loudness. To this day, they do not mind the noise.

You’ll get used to it, they say. We’re neighbors. Sometimes we make noises, too, [L/N].

The noises are seemingly getting louder and louder. You swear you hear a chainsaw at some point. Not even your poor headphones can cancel out the sound. You wonder how your neighbors are faring with this sort of noise. 

You hope that they are annoyed as you are this time. If they are, you can laugh at their face and ask who is getting used to the noise now. However, you suck up all your annoyance and pretend that you don’t mind the noise.

Then one day, you snap.

You open your balcony doors and march to the railing that is only a few feet away from your noisy neighbor’s balcony. You clear your throat and try to yell. 

“Dude!” you shout. “Hello? Mind turning it down a bit?”

There is no response.

“Hey, man!” you persist. “Turn it down! No one wants to listen to the Backstreet Boys at 6 A.M. in the morning!”

The neighbor who lives beside you opens his balcony door. He sleepily pokes his head through and says, “I, actually, find it quite ni—”

“Go back to bed, Jorge,” you snap. “No one cares.”

Jorge retreats back into his apartment.

Grumbling, you go into your apartment as well. If shouting will not catch the neighbor’s attention, you need to find something tangible. You need something that will physically grab your neighbor’s stupid attention away from the Backstreet Boys.

You pick up the nearest object that you could find and return to your balcony. Without further ado, you throw it over. You aim at your neighbor’s balcony window, hoping to alert the neighbor without completely shattering his apartment and getting sued.

As luck would have it, the infamous neighbor himself opens the balcony door just then. He is rubbing the back of his neck with his lazy brown locks of hair falling here and there, perfectly framing his face.

Unfortunately, you do not manage to get a good look at his actual feature, as the object you chose to throw at him hits him smack in the face. He is taken aback by the sudden force and staggers before falling backward.

You wince.

He groans.

You let out a meek voice. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

The man stands back up, and you flinch as if he rises from the dead. He holds the object in hand and stares at you. He seems a little groggy (rightfully so) as he asks, “did you just throw a purse at me?”

He speaks the truth. You chose to throw a purse at him.

Your neighbor looks more put together than you thought. He maintains a broad, athletic frame and stands at a decent height enough to impress. He leans against his balcony door, and the rising sun peeks over the apartment buildings, shining generously on his face.

The rays illuminated his cheekbones and rich, brown eyes. He tilts his head, his skin pulled smooth over his jaw down to his collarbone. He looks otherworldly. Ethereal, even. It must be golden hour, you quickly convince yourself. It’s just the golden hour.

“It was empty,” you say, not helping your case. You scramble closer to the railing. “Sorry! Super sorry. I just needed to get your attention.”

“You most certainly got it,” the neighbor says, amused. You hope he is not too annoyed. Most of your pent-up annoyance is melted away because you threw a bag at him. “Do you want this back or—”

“Of course I want it back,” you say. “I was just wondering if you could turn down the music a bit. You play it all the time, and it’s disturbing me.”

The neighbor gives you a blank stare. It’s as if he’s never been asked this before. He sheepishly admits, “I’ve never been asked this before.”

Bingo.

“Oh, well, do you mind being a little considerate?” you ask. “And give my bag back?”

“Sorry,” the neighbor says. “I’ll be sure to turn the volume down.”

He does not intend to throw the bag over the balcony as you foolishly did. Instead, he reaches out with the bag in his hand. Your bag dangles over the street, precariously close to falling down.

You stretch over the railing. Your fingers briefly brush your neighbor’s. Warmth crawls up your cheeks, but you blame it on the fact that you’ve kept human contact to a minimum ever since quarantine started.

He gives you the bag, and you hold it in your arms. You are tempted to crack a joke about Covid and ask if he washes his hands regularly, but your neighbor seems like the type of man who knows how to take care of himself properly.

“Say, do you have a party or something every day?” you ask. “You play it so loud, so I’m just wondering if you hold small kickbacks.”

“Every day?” the man goes. He shakes his head and laughs while crossing his arms. “Nah. I try to follow Covid procedures as well as I can. Oh, but, umm, I do have the occasional party to myself.”

“You throw parties by yourself?”

“Why do you look and sound so disappointed?”

True to his word, the neighbor keeps his music down for you to concentrate. You are extremely grateful, as you can now listen to your own television and study for your online classes.

Although you hear the faint drumming beat of music sometimes, you decide that it was far worse last time he blasted his music all over the place so you let it slide. There are a few neighbors who pass you in the hall and thank you as well. 

Unable to rest one night, you walk out onto your balcony for some fresh air. After this, you will finally go to bed at 4 A.M. in the morning. In the dim light of the lanterns, you can see a silhouette of a person on your neighbor’s balcony.

Oh, if it isn’t your good neighbor!

(Well, who else would be on your neighbor’s balcony?)

He is on his phone while leaning on the railing. The bright screen reflects on his face, showing his concentration. His athletic build is slightly hunched over his phone as he hums leisurely, scrolling innocently.

“So,” you say, “do you usually stay up until 4 A.M.?”

The man, slightly startled, looks up from his phone and sees you. He cracks a grin that’s more brilliant than the fact that his house plants are still alive despite you never seeing him water them. 

“Well, hello, there,” the neighbor says. “I actually get up at 4 A.M.”

You still. “You what.”

“I get up at 4 A.M.”

“No, I don’t think I heard you right. Mind repeating it again?”

“I get up at 4 A.M.,” the man repeats, and although he has said it three times already, your mind cannot process it. While you’re going to bed at 4 A.M., this guy was waking up at 4 A.M. How insane! “I’m an athlete, so I wake up and use an elliptical. Feeling sluggish isn’t good for me.”

It was then you catch his name: Toru Oikawa of Club Athletico San Juan. You can’t bother to be gobsmacked as you do not catch up with sports news, but you keep in touch with old friends who are still involved in sports. You believe that they’ve mentioned the San Juan club a few times.

“Jesus Christ,” you say.

“No, not Jesus,” Oikawa pipes up, “although I’ve been told about the similarities.”

“I’m [F/N] [L/N],” you offer. “It’s very nice to meet you, Toru Oikawa.”

“Likewise,” he says, “unless you're throwing a purse at me.”

“Again, I’m super sorry—”

You and he talk for some time about anything that comes to mind. You ask him to show you a few of his volleyball videos, as you want to see how he plays. You assume that because of social distancing, he’s been unable to practice.

He obtains your phone number and sends you a few videos with a snarky little comment at the bottom, which you choose to ignore. You watch his videos, and you realize that this Oikawa guy is actually really good.

It seems your friendship with him is on feebly, baby-doe legs. There are days where you do not talk to him at all, as you are more of a night owl and Oikawa is the physical embodiment of carpe diem. There are some days where you and he do not let a single hour slip by without texting each other (you must admit that Oikawa is very entertaining).

Your neighbors tease you, constantly reminding you of your previous hatred for Oikawa (back when you did not know what his name was). You tell them that it was perfectly sensible to be mad, especially since he had been so loud, but they wave you off with a smirk of their faces you’d gladly wipe off. You can tell that they think you like Toru Oikawa.

You tell them that the day Oikawa calls you enchanting and thinks of you as a goddess is the day you might consider him as something more than a neighbor friend.

A month and a half flies by, and you are dawdling on your balcony with Oikawa. He is sitting with his legs swinging back and forth through the rails of the railing. His volleyball hands grip the top of the railing as he chats with you aimlessly, the same smile that he typically wears is upon his face.

“You must have a lot of experience,” you note, watching Oikawa’s videos on your phone. “It’s super impressive.”

Oikawa laughs. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” you say incredulously. “I was watching one of your old high school videos, and I compared it to one of your more recent ones. Your growth is to die for. I super admire your skills, Toru.”

“My skills?”

I wish I could say more, you think. You believe your words are not enough to describe how you feel. Nothing is able to amount to the pride you feel towards your newfound friend, and it aches to keep your words to yourself. You can tell that he has suffered, and you can tell that he is suffering even now. You smile thinking about how far he has come, how far he has gone to be standing across from you with such a moonlit smile on his face.

You know how he fights, and you are so proud.

Of course, there is no non-cheesy way to say this, so you hope that Oikawa can read your eyes well enough. You hope that Oikawa knows that you are being more genuine now than ever, and you hope that he does not mistake your authenticity for pity.

“I think you are very great,” you say to him truthfully. 

Oikawa’s voice is shaky. “Thank you.”

It feels as if years are going by with you locked in your apartment. Oikawa becomes an integral part in your life and in your everyday habits. You text him nearly every day and find yourself rising early in the morning just to talk to him for a few minutes before collapsing back on your bed.

Your neighbors suggest that you and he have a forbidden lovers thing going on. You ask them where they got that from. They bring up the fact that you and he are from different apartment complexes that just-so-happen to be facing each other.

If your neighbors want their own drama, they might as well try throwing a purse at their neighbor’s window and hope the neighbors are as amicable and handsome as Toru Oikawa. You struck gold with him.

He is easy to get along with. He tells you a lot of stories in the middle of the night and whenever he can. Every experience he tells you about seems to be linked with another experience, which is linked to another and then another. The conversations are flowing out of him, and sometimes, the most you can do is keep giving him positive affirmations so he will keep talking to you.

You like it when he talks to you.

“No phone, Toru?” you note, seeing his empty hands. Oikawa usually has his phone when he talks to you on the balcony. It is strange to see him without it, but Oikawa is a strange guy, you figure. He’s a total dork.

Oikawa is in love with a sport. 

You have many athlete friends. Ordinarily, they complain about waking up early and never getting enough sleep—especially when balancing it with schoolwork. They enjoy their sport to a degree, but it pales in comparison to what Oikawa feels toward volleyball. 

To Oikawa, and to people like Oikawa, volleyball is a practice. They turn volleyball into a habit. It becomes a habit that they care for the sport, and most importantly, it becomes a habit that they, in turn, take care of themselves.

“Too much blue light,” Oikawa says, shaking his head. “I’m cutting down my phone time. It’ll be better for my eyes, too. You ought to do the same.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you joke. “I have to look at screens all day, even if my eyesight deteriorates in the long run.”

“What will you do if you end up blind?” Oikawa leans on the railing. It’s as if he is trying to get close to you. However, the distance between the balconies is six feet apart. Whether you and Oikawa like it or not, you and he are following safety procedures. “You won’t be able to look for aliens with me.”

You laugh. “I don’t believe in aliens.”

“Well, they don’t believe in you, either.”

You make a sad face.

Oikawa is taken aback. He starts speaking quickly. “They don’t have to believe in you. It’s their loss. I’ll believe in you instead. You don’t need the approval of aliens, and you don’t need their opinions. They’re not even on Earth! The Earth is grand enough with you on it, [F/N]. As long as one person—me, or yourself, even!—believes in you, you’ll achieve greater things than aliens.”

It is then you smile. Oikawa is so silly, you think to yourself. You doubt there is anything else in the world that can replicate the neighbor across from you. He is truly one of a kind. “Thanks, Toru. You’re such a loser.”

“Hey,” he says, “love me or hate me. Don’t do both. Make it make sense.”

With Oikawa cutting back his screen time, you do not receive as many volleyball videos or texts from him. You miss his texts, of course, but this only spurs you to catch him in the mornings or in the late evenings when he gets back from practice. Your whole sleep schedule now revolves around the man. He is your friend, after all.

You slightly envy the man, as he seems dead set on becoming better than the person he was yesterday. However, you and he carry different morals. You do not mind not knowing what to do at all; you live from one day to the next, happily taking whatever life gives you. You are content not knowing what the future holds because you know that it is scary, but nothing is fun without being scary.

You do not need to follow Oikawa’s beliefs. Everyone raises themselves differently than the next person, and that does not make them any less productive. As each experience goes by, people take a different lesson from it, learning and learning and learning. That is human thought.

Of course, you learn a thing or two from Oikawa. You learn that there is always someone better, and that should only move you forward. You come to realize that if life does not lead you along, life will drag you, and you are far too pretty to be dragged.

With this in mind, you finish your project in time.

More weeks fly by, and Oikawa greets you as you walk out on your balcony. He is dressed in his practice clothes, and you are dressed in pajamas. You wrap your coat around yourself tighter, as the colder seasons are approaching and you aren’t so keen on freezing to death.

Oikawa’s brown hair feathers the tips of his reddened ears and touches the nape of his neck. He gives you a small wave, and you groggily wave back in response. It is far too early to meet Oikawa, but it seems you and he have an unspoken meeting time at 4 A.M. You have set many alarms for this man, and you hope he appreciates your efforts.

He holds something in his hands. You ask him what it is for, and he calls it a phone. It is not a phone. It is two cups, and they are held together by string. Oikawa tells you that one of the cups belongs to him and the other you. He stretches over the balcony, and you do so as well.

Your fingers barely whisper over his as you grab the cup from him. Oikawa quickly pulls away, nearly making you drop the cup. You swear you felt as if you were on the verge of a heart attack. You angrily curse out Oikawa for scaring you like that, and he only laughs in return.

That is the second time you’ve touched Toru Oikawa.

What a douche.

“Let’s test out the phone,” Oikawa says, putting his mouth to the cup.

You settle your ear to the cup, awaiting Oikawa’s message to you from your balcony. You wait, you wait, and you wait. Your ear is warm with anticipation, and just as you are about to tear your ear away from the cup to yell at Oikawa for joking with you, you hear something.

It is soft and quiet. If not for the stillness of the morning, you would not have been able to hear it. The voice is very faint, and the voice is very, very him. 

“[F/N],” he says. He says your name like a prayer, like something he has kept lodged in his throat. He says it with apprehensiveness and doubt, as if he isn’t sure that it will reach you, as if he isn’t sure that it’ll work—but it does. But it does. 

You smile, and you hold the cup to your mouth. 

“Toru,” you say. You say his name again. “Toru.”

You flit your eyes up to see Oikawa, to see what he thinks of your personal message. In the dim light of the lanterns that hang on his apartment, you see that Oikawa is blushing. The red of his ears has spread across his cheeks. 

He realizes that you are looking at him, and he turns his cheek to the side—a poor attempt of hiding. It is really impossible to keep his expressions from you, as it is only him and you outside. Even your neighbors recognize that there is an hour designated for you and Oikawa.

You put the cup down. Excited, you ask him, “did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he says, regaining his composure. “Your breath stinks—”

You then throw the cup at his head. Oikawa falls back.

It is every day that you and he speak through the string-cup-phone-thing. You and he speak through it in the mornings when he wants to tell you a secret about his coworkers. Oikawa tells you that he has returned to work, as his team mates (including himself) have tested negative for Covid. You are entertained by his stories.

Oikawa has some of your habits, you realize. He must have picked them up from you during the duration of your friendship with him. When he eats candy, he saves his favorite color for last and eats his least favorite first. When he speaks, he crosses his arms—a habit that you have only because of your easy annoyance. He takes some of your jokes as well and repeats them to his coworkers (and you only know this because he tells you; at least he gives his credit to you).

He finds satisfaction in the littlest of things now. He will bring up how pretty the lights in the street below are, and when you are slightly pissed at anything, he will tell you how those aforementioned lights are nothing compared to you. He likes the smell of the bakery down the street, and he promises that he’ll take you there one day because it’s his favorite.

When he tells you a joke, he looks at your face to see if you are laughing. You think he likes your laugh. Or maybe he likes your time and appreciation. Whatever it is, Oikawa does not grow tired of seeing you laugh.

Toru Oikawa is as strange as you, you believe, and strange people stick together.

“Today,” Oikawa says through the string-cup-phone-thing, “I saw a skunk, and I thought of you.”

You blink. “I hate you.”

“Skunks are cute!” he insists through the cup. “I’m talking about its eyes. It had beautiful eyes. Take it as a compliment! The skunk’s beautiful eyes were so astounding that they seemed to—”

“Don’t try to redeem yourself.”

There are some days where Oikawa is too tired to talk to you, and although you are hurt by it, you realize that he needs time to himself. He sits on his bed, visible through the balcony window doors and buries his face in his hands. He looks defeated. All you can do is watch and pretend you do not see.

The thing about character is that one has to keep building it.

Oikawa constantly compares himself to others. At first it is not visible, but it becomes painstakingly obvious to those who are close to him. Oikawa brings up other volleyball players all the time, and he says that he wishes that he can serve like him or receive like her. You tell him that he can, and he laughs.

His envy is tiny, and you can see it in the way he praises this person’s sets and in that person’s passes. All you say in response is that they have to grow to get there, and that he, too, can grow.

So you wait by the string-cup-phone-thing. The cup hangs from you railing and dangles near your ear. It is too late in the day, but you force your eyes awake every time you feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

You will be here for Toru Oikawa. You will be here for him.

Oikawa steps outside today, and he sees you by the string-cup-phone-thing. You are curled up in a ball, dozing off near your respective cup. There is a lopsided grin on his face that appears whenever he sees you. He feels dizzy.

He sits down on the balcony, reaching for his cup that dangles from his railing. He starts talking. He tells you about his day, and he tells you about what he’s worried about. Although you are barely awake to hear it, Oikawa is glad that you are here anyway. You have this unspoken determination about you that makes Oikawa feel jumpy.

The months pass by, and you realize that you have a strong connection with Oikawa. Although having never spoken before quarantine and having never seen him closer than six feet away, you feel closer to him than ever. You do not need to be holding him; you do not need to be near him.

All you have to do is be there.

There are nights where it is you and him and silence. You and he seem to forget that the other is there with them, but if one were to leave, then you and he would feel as if something was wrong. The Earth will not be the same without the other, and you come to the profound realization that the universe is built upon one thing missing the other.

You are humming, and Oikawa is rolling around his volleyball. There is nothing but the sound of the concrete underneath the leather ball and your broken humming. You hum quietly, and it is breathy and choppy.

Then you hear something from your string-cup-phone-thing. You quickly snatch the cup and motion for Oikawa to repeat what he said.

It is quiet and apprehensive. “Do you want to spend Christmas with me?”

You drop the cup. It dangles. You stare at Oikawa, whose ball was rolling away toward the panel of the balcony window door. He is sheepishly carrying his cup and looking at you, expecting an answer.

“Just reject me already,” Oikawa says. So his invitation has more connotations that you realize. Your heart is like that of a jackrabbit. “Then you’ll never hear me bring this up again, if you don’t want me to.”

He stands there, his hair looking like shiny lucky pennies on sidewalks. His smile is as genuine as ever, and it tells you that even if you tell him no, he will still be there with you because that is what friends do. 

If Toru Oikawa were to look in a mirror, he will see a hero.

He is glowing, you think. You don’t know if anyone else can see it. You want everyone to look at Oikawa and see how beautiful he is glowing. He is like the moon. The noisy neighbor whom you once hated is now the person who is most cherished across from you. You believe you can find no one close to Oikawa.

You don’t think you can ever stop appreciating the pillar that is Toru Oikawa, and you don’t think you ever want to. You have a thousand things you want to say, and you do not know which one to say right now. You do not think that this is the right time, either.

Maybe you will say these things later, if you have time.

During the most unfortunate of times, human beings are desperate. Thus, you can say with your utmost confidence that you are here for Oikawa, and that is all. 

You grab the cup and scramble to your feet. It is then you lean over your railing and hold the cup to your mouth. You are happy. You are indescribably, ardently, and passionately happy. There is an answer that rips from your throat when you open your mouth. You say something along the lines of hoping that it better be the best Christmas you will ever have.

Oikawa laughs, and he says, “you’re a delight, [Y/N]. I think you’re like a goddess.”

“Delight is a lousy way to describe me,” you say. “Call me mesmerizing, jaw-dropping, and radiant.”

“How about enchanting?”

You think about it. “I think enchanting will do just fine.”

“Right then,” Oikawa says, “[F/N], you are absolutely enchanting.”

[moderndayshinigami]

Here's chapter 2

So. All Might," She smiled over the top of her coffee cup. They were perched atop a building, watching the traffic below them. He glanced over, taking a sip as she collected her thoughts.

"Hhmm. I'm trying to think of things I can ask you that I can't just google... Umm... Favorite color?"

"Yellow. You?" He smiled.

"Mm, blue. How does your hair stay up like that?" She queried

"I lather rinse and repeat every time," he joked. She punched him in the shoulder.

"Why are you such a freeaboo?"

"A what?"

"What's with the American antics?"

He took another sip of tea and shrugged, "i grew up with a American hero movies. Thought it would be great."

"And?" She prompted.

"And?" He asked.

"Is it great? Being a hero?"

"...The best," he beamed. They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the sunshine and street noise. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and plugged in headphones.

"Am I being boring? Is she gonna leave? Oh shit, I blew it." All Might thought, panicking.

"Here," she offered a tiny earbud to him, scooting closer. All Might blinked and accepted it, confused.

"I love music, can't go a day without it," she sighed, scrolling through miles of playlists. She found one she liked and hit play, an unfamiliar American song played gently in the background as they returned to people watching. It added a touch of romance to the scene, All Might thought, leaning closer. She smiled and kicked her feet as they dangled over the edge.

"I used to be afraid of heights," she said suddenly, peaking down between her feet, "well, of falling from those heights, I guess."

All Might looked down too, all he saw were people and cars, nothing to be afraid of. He did spot a purse snatcher though. He gently handed her the earbud, "I'll be right back, don't move," he said, settling his drink next to her. He dropped to the street and apprehended the hooligan with little effort. Handing him off to an officer on the next block, he jogged back to their perch. He looked up. Her feet bounced in a rhythm while she listened to her music and sipped her drink. He jumped up to retake his place. She handed him his drink and shuffled closer than before, so he leaned back on his hand, casually placed just behind her far side. She offered him the earbud again and he accepted.

"Shit," she spat a few moments later, jerking out of the calm they had created, "what time is it?"

"Umm, 3:30?" All Might asked, checking his phone. She stood, earbud falling from his ear as she gathered them both together.

"I gotta go. I'm supposed to do this panel for new creators. Um. Hang on, here" she offered him her phone, "put your number in, we can chat." He hesitated.

"I'm not supposed to give out my number... Fans and all that..." He mumbled, smile fading. She looked away and replaced her phone in her pocket.

"Oh. Sorry. Misread... The... Um situation," she cleared her throat, "anyway. I guess then I'll see you later. Some time. You can look up my channel, Valkyrie Cosplays. I usually read the comments so... Maybe we can... Yeah. Anyway. It was really nice to meet you, All Might," she babbled, shaking his hand before turning and running for the far edge of the building, leaping out into the air. A few seconds later, All Might saw her rise far above the buildings and shoot off into the distance.

"Good going, Toshinori. Can't give out your number? What an idiot," he mentally kicked himself for blowing it, "the first girl you talk to in months and you blow her off because of some silly rule." He shook his head and lept of toward the agency to file his reports for the day. He thought about music the rest of the night.

The next morning All Might turned on the radio during his morning workout. The trainer gave him a look, but said nothing as All Might added weights to the bar.

"Goooood mooorning, ladies and gents! I'm your morning host, Present Mic. And heeree we go, kicking off another ten songs in a row to get you through that early morning commute. But first, let's take a caller! Hey, you're on with the Mic! What's your name?"

"Hey. Can I request a song? Can we do this again by NightOwl? Going out to a certain big hero I worked with yesterday. If he's listening, I left you something where we had coffee. Thanks!" The caller said, hanging up.

"Well, looks like some hero's got a secret admirer! Good luck to him and to you, caller! Hey hero! Don't let that one get away! Here's Can we do this again by Night Owl kicking off our ten in a row and maybe somebody's love story," Mic said as the music began. All Might smiled as he lifted to the bouncy pop song. Maybe he hadn't completely blown it yesterday. He'd just have to go find out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ok, if he doesn't show up by 9, he didn't hear it and isn't coming," Valkyrie whispered to herself from her perch across the street. She was watching the building they had sat on the day previous hoping to catch a glimpse of the big blonde hero again. She had called the local radio station at 6, hoping to catch him working out.

"A guy like that had to workout, right?" She scowled. "Maybe not; maybe his quirk was just that good."

She sat on the roof, back against an air conditioning unit, waiting, headphones in her ears. At five to nine, she stood, dusting herself off, frowning.

"Damn. Guess he didn't hear it," she grumbled, stretching her arms above her head and packing away her music, "should I take it with me?.... No, just in case." She thought, turning back briefly.

She turned away, taking off from the to roof with a great flap of her wings. All Might watched her soar out of sight and smiled. He stood from his own hiding place down the block and lept over to their spot. He found a flash drive sitting on the wall, "For AM" written on the edge.

He flipped it over, finding a phone number written on it. He smiled, tucking the drive carefully into a pocket.

When he returned home that night he grabbed his laptop and crashed on his couch. He skimmed his official message boards and agency email before turning to yo_tube finding his new favorite channel.

" Hey, Feathered Friends! I'm still here in beautiful Tokyo for the Tokyo Blast fundraiser! I met sooo many cool creators here! Lots of new cosplay ideas too, so new videos should be rolling out when I get back home. I also met someone my Japanese fans probably know, All Might!" She held up a tabloid magazine featuring a photo of the two.

"He was super cool and awesomely nice! Maybe I'll do a fem-cosplay for next year's Blast. It would be awesome to represent such a cool hero. Leave your thoughts in the comments! Any other heros to meet or cosplay?" She looked at the magazine. "I have no idea what this says. Someone translate for me? Thanks so much! Here is the video of the Create and Craft for Noobs panel I was on today! Lots of great tips for beginners! Also, today's tweet along song, Can we do this again by NightOwl, check it out in the description below. I hope a certain hero is watching. He should totally message me on my social media. Byebye! Catch you on the fly!" She winked and gave a peace sign again before the video went to her panel video. He backed up and paused on her face, studying it. He pulled out the little flash drive looking it over again before plugging into his computer. He navigated into the drive's contents, finding a group of mp3s and a video file. He clicked the video.

"Um... Hey! I guess my plan worked, you found the flash drive! I couldn't stop thinking about you, so," she cleared her throat, looking away and blushing, "I made you a playlist." She was sitting in a hotel room, cross legged on the bed, dressed in shorts and a tank top, hair a little messy, like she had been asleep just before. He studied her face as she gathered her thoughts before speaking again, still looking away from the camera.

"All Might? It would be.... Um... Do you think we could.... I want to see you again. Maybe we could take some time to... I dunno, see the sights? Maybe just get another coffee and chat? You're easy to talk to. It's been awhile since I felt like I had someone to talk to like that..." She looked at the lens, giving a small smile. He felt a small flutter in his chest as she ran a hand over her hair, swinging her legs off the bed to take the camera over to the window of her room. She turned the lens to view the Tokyo sky line, just as the sun began to rise. He had watched that same sunrise on his morning run.

"It really is beautiful here. This city is amazing. I wish I could see more of it," she sighed off camera, her profile barely visible in the reflection on the window.

"I... Sorry, I'm rambling. Anyway, there is my cell phone number, so text me. If you want. I'll be here... waiting. I hope to hear from you. Um, bye? I guess for now." She turned the camera back toward her face, smiling before the video cut off. He replayed the video again, watching her closely. She seemed... Sad? No... Lonely. That was it. He played through a couple of songs. He recognized the one they'd listened to the day before, and the song from the radio, and a few more popular songs from the States. He pulled out his phone as he listened, pulling up the contact he had made for her earlier in the day. He opened his messaging app, pausing to think of something to write.

It's fine now, why? Because I am texting you!

He hit send before he could rethink the message. He stared at the phone, waiting. Nothing happened. He pulled out the flash drive and checked the number again. It was correct. He refreshed his messaging app. Still nothing. He laid his phone down on his leg and went back to yo_tube.

"Hey, feathered friends! Tokyo Blast is drawing to a close! Just one more day! I almost don't want to come home, I love this city! The food is soooo amazing, and you all know how I feel about seafood"

She made a sour face and laughed. "I might have to extend my trip by a day or two to see some sights! Would you guys mind too terribly? I promise lots of pictures and cool videos? If this video gets 10000 likes, I'll even eat one of those live octopuses" she shuddered and made another face.

He clicked the like button while she continued on

"So, I got someone to translate the magazine headlines for me. Apparently, All Might and I are secretly dating. To be honest with you guys, I would not mind that," she winked, "you know my type."

A few images of her pointing at muscular blonde men photoshopped onto the screen flashed by, obviously cropped from previous videos.

"But unfortunately, we are not an item. Even if it would be great, I have to come home to you all and make more videos! If we were dating, what would All Might and my ship name be? Anyway, my plan is to take a couple extra days after Tokyo Blast finishes up to sightsee and then I'll be flying home, so videos should be going up in a week or so with new props as well as a gift opening vid when everything ships home. I'll also live stream a couple sights as well as the octopus if you guys are feeling mean! Leave your thoughts in the comments! Here is a quick video of some of the awesome people I met today! Today's tweet along song is Zero to Hero from Hercules. Check it out in the description below. Byebye! Catch you on the fly!" She said, with the wink and peace sign. He sat back as her video from the convention played. He had seen the magazines during the day, but no press had bothered him about it. He scrolled down to the comments.

Take all the time you need! We love you!

Show us ur b00bz

Winged Victory!

Val Might

Eat the octopus, valkyrie! >:}

Vallmight

Wingd vic0ry

God leave All Might out of this your just lookign for subs

You 2 wuld b so cut 2gether! Val Might 4eva

He snorted at a couple, frowning at the more rude comments. All Might shifted checking his phone again. Still no response. Maybe he should just text her again with a 'hey, it's me'?

His phone buzzed with an incoming text. His hands spasmed and he flung it onto the chair across from the couch. He took a deep breath, gathering his wits before setting his laptop aside and grabbing his phone. He unlocked the screen.

Hey, AM! U up for a nite out? New club opening 2nite downtown

~Mic

He sighed harshly. It wasn't even her. He left the message unanswered and went back to his laptop. He clicked through her page, looking for popular uploads. He watched a couple of videos before he worked up the courage to search the name he wanted. He pulled up a new tab, typing in "Val Might" to the search bar. Several links popped up. Mostly news shots of them together after the robbery. There was one still frame of them sitting together on top of the building. They were dangerously close together, closer than he had remembered. He felt the flutter in his chest again. He went to images, most were the news shots, the dangerous picture featured prominently too. What he didn't expect was the fan art. The fan art made him blush. He closed the tab and went back to his fan site message boards, answering a couple questions and listening to his new playlist.

"Maybe she can make me a workout playlist," he mused out loud, bobbing his head to the rhythm. He closed his laptop, standing and stretching. He changed into workout clothes and went for his nightly run. He returned and showered, trying not to think of her sleep shorts and tank top as he did. Failing that, he cranked the water to cold half way through the shower. He toweled off, falling into bed with his phone, scrolling through her videos again. He found her liked videos, most of them being music. The most recent liked video was an old video, the face in the thumbnail all too familiar. He clicked it

I can't believe it! It's only been 10 minutes! He's already saved 100 people!

HAHAHA!

There he is!

It's fine now! Why? Because I am here!

He rolled on his side, stopping the video and staring into space. She went searching for him online the same way he had been. She found THAT video too. Why that one? He started to doze off, thinking about saving her from some faceless evil. The way she would look at him as he swept her up in his arms and kissed her. Her arms wrapping around his neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her against the wall and he--

Jerked himself awake from the dream, taking a deep inhale and releasing a shaky exhale. He looked at the time on his phone, 1 am. He also had a message.

[bennguintweets]

One Shot: Stupid Love

Requested by anon: “Can u do a short little thingy set when Tyler & Jamie were still playing and Jamie takes a really dirty hit while Tyler is on the bench just watching? Like Jamie is too injured to retaliate so Jordie and a few others come to his defense but maybe tell the story from Tyler's pov because he can hear the other player yelling homophobic slurs at Jamie while he's down? Bonus points if said player looks right at Tyler while insulting Jamie cause he "knows" about the 2 of them?”

Author’s Note: While I did use some factual information, the dialogue is completely fabricated by yours truly to fit the prompt. Please remember that and do not hold grudges against players who seemed cruel in this one shot. Someone had to be the bad guy, and this was just how it played out in my head. Also, big thank you to my good friend who improved the ish out of my grammar before I posted this, because it needed some serious work. Sorry it’s been a year to date since I wrote my last one shot. Life, man, it’s cray. Enjoy! 

~~~~~

Jamie heard a quick rap of knuckles on his hotel room door. It startled him, as he wasn’t expecting anyone, but by the rhythm of the knock, he already knew who was on the other side of it.

“Hey, Mom, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon. Okay, love you, too. Bye.” Jamie tapped his phone screen with his thumb to end the call before lightly jogging to the door.  He checked through the peephole just to confirm the identity of his visitor. He was, in fact, correct but frowned slightly by the disheveled appearance of his friend who was normally beaming at all times.

When Jamie opened the door, however, he received a completely different expression, as Tyler was giving Jamie his infamous smirk now.

“Hey, Segs?” He didn’t mean for it to come out like it was a question.

“Whatcha doing?” Tyler asked while brushing past Jamie to enter the room.

“Sure, come on in,” Jamie teased and rolled his eyes while letting the door shut on its own. “Just got off the phone with my mom.” By the time Jamie turned around to face Tyler, he was already cozied up in Jamie’s bed.

“Wow, you’re having a crazy night,” Tyler smirked, scrolling through his phone with his feet crossed at the foot of Jamie’s bed. Jamie observed Tyler closely. Even though he was still standing by the door, he could see that Tyler’s cheeks were flushed and his skin was paler than usual.

“She always calls to make sure the flight went smoothly. We never travelled much growing up. Didn’t need to really. So she gets nervous now that I fly all the time,” Jamie explained. His cheeks heated in embarrassment immediately after his ramble because Tyler didn’t acknowledge him. He likely thought Jamie was lame, or weird. Probably both, actually.

“But, the night is still young. Want to go somewhere?” Jamie asked in a hopeful voice, feeling the need to redeem himself.

“No, actually I, uh…kinda wanted to hang out here with you… if that’s okay?” Tyler asked shyly. Jamie had never seen Tyler like this before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“Oh, um, sure,” Jamie hummed, unable to keep the surprised tone out of his voice.

Tyler sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, this is… stupid. I can go. I’m sure you want your alone time. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Tyler sat up straight, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to push himself up. But before he could finish standing up, Jamie was over at his side with a hand on his bicep to stop him.

“Hey, no. I want you… to hang out. I just thought you were… never mind.” Jamie mentally kicked himself for not being able to formulate a sentence like a normal person, so he thought it would be best to stick with simplicity. “Sit,” he hummed and gently guided Tyler back down onto his bed.

“You sure?” Tyler asked, looking up at Jamie through his eyelashes. He looked like a kicked puppy that was hesitant to trust again. It took everything Jamie had not to wrap Tyler in a big hug to make it better, whatever it was.

It was hard for Jamie to explain his feelings for Tyler. Jamie’s never liked another guy before, but he’s also never had a girlfriend. He just figured he hadn’t met the right girl yet. But when Jamie had met Tyler, he’d started questioning things. He would never admit that to another soul, not even his brother, Jordie. It was just… Tyler was like a beam of light to Jamie. Whenever Jamie saw him, he suddenly felt so warm inside, and when Tyler smiled, Jamie swore he’d never seen anything so radiant in his entire life. He loved every minute they spent together, especially those accidentally-on-purpose moments where their arms or legs brushed against one another on the couch. Jamie lived for that, for all of that, and he loved it so much.

“Of course.” Jamie sat down next to him. They sat there in silence for what seemed like hours, staring at the muted TV with their elbows pressed up against one another. The Pens-Flyers game was on, but neither of them were really watching it. Jamie could see Tyler playing with the hem of his shirt out of the corner of his eye. Seeing Tyler in the dumps was throwing Jamie for a loop. He knew he should say something, anything.

“Hey, Jamie?” Tyler asked, his voice sounded soft and somewhat vulnerable. Jamie was relieved he didn’t have to be the one to break the silence.

“Yeah?”  

Tyler stayed silent, so Jamie turned his head to look him in the eyes. Only Tyler’s eyes were cast down towards his lap, eyebrows knitted together.

“Do you think I’m… trouble?”

“What? No. Why would-“

“Do you think I’m worth the hassle?”

“Hey, what are you even saying right now? Where is this coming from?” Jamie asked, quickly realizing that was a dumb question. They were in Boston, and it was the first time Tyler had been back since the trade. Of course Tyler would be distraught. Jamie had thought Tyler would meet up with his old teammates and go to dinner and drinks. He had friends on that team, right? Suddenly, it clicked in Jamie’s head. He couldn’t believe how oblivious and stupid he had been.

“Did someone say something to you?” Jamie asked. His mood was quickly changing from concern to protective. He could feel anger starting to bubble in his chest.

“No. The opposite.” Tyler frowned even deeper. “No one called me, Jamie. Not a single guy asked to hang out tonight. Not even, Marchy. I thought… I don’t know.” Tyler sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Maybe, they were told not to?” Jamie tried to be the voice of reason, but he knew the minute it came out of his mouth that it sounded ridiculous and Tyler didn’t buy it. Tyler brought his eyes up to meet Jamie’s. He hated that he could see the pain in them.

“Look, Tyler. Fuck what they think.” Jamie paused when he saw the shocked expression on Tyler’s face. Shit, Jamie even surprised himself with the sudden outburst. He wanted Tyler to know he was being genuine. That he cared. Jamie took a breath to finish what he was going to say in a much softer tone. “It’s their loss.”

“You mean that?” Tyler asked, his voice still quiet, vulnerable.

“Yes.” He was looking into Tyler’s eyes, so Tyler could see the genuineness in them. He figured Tyler would break eye contact when he was satisfied, but they were well past the three-second rule now. Jamie’s stomach started flipping nervously, so he decided to change the mood in the room.

“Now stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” Tyler said, giving Jamie his best mock-offended look.

“You are pouting, but you should be excited,” Jamie stated matter-of-factly.

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re hanging out with me.”

“Oh, is that so?” Tyler chuckled and raised an amused eyebrow.

“Yes, and take your shoes off. If you get my bed dirty, then you’re sleeping in it.” Jamie said before unmuting the TV. He could see Tyler smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. Finally.

~~~~~

Tyler was in his own world, blasting music in his ears through his headphones to drown out the thoughts and nerves he had about stepping onto his former home ice. The whole thing was weird to him, being in the opposing locker room in Boston, but also feeling at home with the people surrounding him despite only knowing them a couple months. He tried desperately to listen to the words of the song, but the harder he tried, the louder his thoughts became. He just wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d receive from the Bruins fans, coaches, and players, and that was the worst part. He wished it would be one of those feel-good moments with a standing ovation and a tribute video played on the jumbotron for the entirety of the arena to see his accomplishments during his time in Boston. However, he fully expected to be booed every time he stepped foot onto the ice because of the negativity surrounding his departure from the city.

“Fuck it,” Tyler thought to himself. “Who cares what they think?” He and Jamie’s talk last night served as a reminder that he was in fact in a much better place now. He really didn’t know what he would do without Jamie through all of this change and hardship. Jamie had been the first one to greet Tyler when he’d touched down in Dallas after the trade, had never judged him before getting to know him, and had made the new city feel like home quicker than Tyler could have ever imagined. Jamie understood Tyler like nobody else. He was a godsend.

“Shit,” Tyler hissed and yanked his ear buds out. He didn’t even realize he was biting his nails until he bit too far down on his thumb. He sucked on it to relieve himself of the stinging pain, but the taste of iron from the blood quickly became evident on his tongue. 

“Hey. You okay?” came a soft voice in the stall next to him. He knew Jamie was keeping a close eye on him since last night. He hadn’t told him about his little episode that had caused him to nervous-puke his brains out, but Jamie was a quiet observer. He figured Jamie knew he had had a rough night before going over to his room, which was probably why he had let Tyler sleep in his bed after passing out in the middle of the movie they’d watched. Tyler had been surprised to find Jamie asleep next to him when he woke up to his alarm the following morning, but they were a good distance apart in the king-sized bed, nothing weird about it. Unless Jamie could read Tyler’s mind and saw just how hard Tyler was crushing on him. Then, that would’ve made the situation much more awkward. But, Jamie didn’t need to know that. Not yet at least.

“Yeah m’fine,” Tyler sighed, wrapping some stick tape around his thumb to stop the bleeding. Jamie probably knew that was a lie, but he was also too nice to prod and call him out on it.  

“Just you and me out there, yeah?” Jamie said, giving an encouraging tap to Tyler’s thigh.

“Yeah.” Tyler nodded, and he believed it.

~~~~~

Tyler would be lying if he said he didn’t hear the crowd when he first stepped onto the ice for warm-ups. There were lots of boos, but he spotted a couple posters welcoming him back to Boston. It was just about how he expected the reception to go, and now that the first lap around the ice was over, he could put the anxiety behind him and focus on the game at hand.

Tyler was going through his usual warm up routine; he was a creature of habit like most NHL players. While stretching out his legs at the center red line that separated the two teams, Tyler saw a yellow and black jersey headed his way out of his peripheral.

“What’s up, Seggy? You miss me?”

“Can’t say I have, Marchy.” Tyler was smiling, but inside he kind of meant it. Nothing against Brad Marchand, but ever since he found Jamie, or Jamie found him, he hadn’t thought about his former teammates.  

“Don’t be like that, Segs. I know you do.” Marchand smirked and gave Tyler a tap on the shin pad with his stick. It wasn’t a hard tap, but it was a little more aggressive than Tyler had anticipated. Before Tyler could come back with another chirp, a flash of white and green stepped in between the two of them.

“Don’t touch him. He’s not your teammate anymore. If you want to talk to him, do it after the game.”

“Oh that’s how it is, huh, Benn?” Marchand gave Jamie a quick look up and down, as if he were sizing him up. Jamie almost laughed because of the approximate six inches he had on Marchand.

“Yeah, that’s how it is.”

“Segs, you just let this guy boss you around like that?” Marchand chuckled and made a gesture at Jamie with his hand, which Jamie didn’t particularly care for. He found himself chest to chest with Marchand within an instant.

“Why don’t you just go back to your side?”

“Yeah? Why don’t you fucking make me?” Marchand said with a little shove to Jamie’s chest. Players from both teams were at their sides in an instant pulling their respective teammate back before a pregame fight could transpire.

“Alright, guys, save it for the game.”

“Yeah,” Jamie muttered under his breath. “You can count on it.”

~~~~~

Tyler glided to the center dot to take the initial faceoff, and to his dismay, Patrice Bergeron was already waiting for him on the opposite side of the circle. The two hadn’t had a great relationship when they were teammates, and then when Tyler was traded, Bergeron added salt to the wound with an interview he gave saying Tyler needed to grow up. Tyler had a few words he wanted to say to him, but he decided to keep his eyes fixed on the ref who was doing his last minute checks before starting the game. Unfortunately, the silence was interrupted by that dreadful and all too familiar voice.

“How’s Dallas treating you?”

Tyler’s head snapped up, because what the hell? All of a sudden he was going to act like he was concerned? No, fuck that. He couldn’t wait to see Tyler go, and Tyler wasn’t about to act like they were buddies.

“Why do you care?” Tyler spat, shooting eye daggers Bergeron’s way. If only looks could kill.

“Well, it looks like you’ve found your fit. I mean you said it yourself, only steers and queers in Texas, right?” Bergeron chuckled.

Tyler felt his heart rate rise to a dangerous level. That bastard. Tyler knew he was going to come up with something snarky, but this? This was way worse.

Patrice had been onto Tyler and his private life ever since the end of Tyler’s rookie season. After they had won the Stanley Cup, Tyler went out by himself for some drinks, because what 19-year-old wouldn’t take advantage of the free underage drinking when it was handed right to him? Anyways, Tyler had drunk until he had felt the familiar buzz and was his usual flirtatious self. What Tyler hadn’t known, though, was that Bergeron was also at said bar. That is until he had made eye contact with him right in the middle of a friendly lap dance he‘d been giving to the random guy he’d been chatting up all night. It was an innocent joke, at least to the other guy, but Bergeron’s eyes had pierced through him as if he was letting Tyler know he could see past the act he was putting on.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He wanted to yell, and get in Bergeron’s face, but he knew he needed to keep his voice down. He didn’t want anyone else to hear the exchange.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Tyler swallowed back a nervous lump in his throat and looked away. He needed a distraction to calm his nerves down.

“Does your buddy, Benn, know? ‘Cos you two are awfully close.” The question hit Tyler like a truck. He didn’t realize Patrice had been keeping such close tabs on him. And for what? Blackmail? He knew Bergeron was just trying to get into his head, to throw him off his game, but the thought of Jamie finding out about Tyler’s sexuality nearly sent him into another panic attack. It would ruin their relationship, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. He just couldn’t.

“Shut the fuck up. You can shit talk me all you want, but you better leave Jamie’s name out of your mouth,” Tyler spat through gritted teeth.

“So he doesn’t know?” Patrice chuckled and shook his head. “That’s a shame, because if I were him, I’d want to know.”

“Are you gonna talk all night, or are you gonna play hockey?” Tyler knew that was a shitty comeback, but he didn’t know what else to say without outing himself.

Finally, the head official made his way over to the two of them, allowing Tyler to break his eye contact with Patrice and get ready for the faceoff.

“Alright, boys, here we go. Let’s play a clean game.”

Yeah, there’s no way in hell that’s happening, Tyler thought to himself. He quickly shook off Bergeron’s comments when the whistle blew and got ready to win the faceoff. When both sides were ready, the puck dropped, and the first period was underway.

~~~~~

The game was just as intense as a playoff game, which was unusual since it was only one month into the season and between two teams in opposite conferences. It immediately started off physical, mainly from Bergeron hitting Tyler any chance he got and Jamie hitting Bergeron in response. Once the physicality was consistent between two players on opposing teams, it was like a domino effect for the rest of the players. Then, once the grittiness was present, the need to win the game became so much more important.

Jamie opened the scoring just over three minutes into the first period, but the lead was short-lived when Torey Krug responded with a goal thirty seconds later. The rest of the first period and the entirety of the second were filled with tough, back and forth hockey, but the score remained tied at one going into the third.

Jamie and Tyler jumped over the boards simultaneously when it was their line’s time to play against the Bruins top line. Tyler was the first to the opposing player with the puck, catching the Bruin off guard by his speed. He managed to tie up the puck against the boards, struggling to gain possession. Val Nichushkin came to Tyler’s aid not too long after the puck battle began and was able to kick it free up the boards. After a lucky bounce, the puck found itself against Jamie’s stick with a wide-open net. Suddenly, Jamie felt like life was in slow motion. His eyes grew to the size of golf balls while he instinctively snapped the puck towards the net. Life quickly resumed back to normal pace as he watched the puck go wide of the net and ricochet off the boards.

The Stars’ top line continued to battle for the puck, but to no avail. The Bruin’s defense was able to gain control and break out into a rush out of their zone. Tyler, exhausted from the full shift, made his way to the bench for a change. Jamie, panting equally as hard, followed behind Tyler. But before he made it to the bench, he felt an unexpected, sharp jolt against his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.

“Gotta be aware, Benny. Especially of who you associate with. Don’t want people thinking the wrong thing. Unless you swing that way, too,” Bergeron muttered to a doubled over Jamie. Jamie was too injured to respond, and his head was spinning too much to even process what was said. All he could do was focus on the ice and try and catch his breath.

~~~~~

Tyler stepped onto the bench but quickly turned around to face the ice again when he heard a commotion from the crowd. He immediately caught Bergeron’s smug look that was directed right at Tyler and Jamie on all fours on the ice. Tyler knew. He instantly knew what Bergeron had done.

“What the fuck?!” Tyler screamed and swung his leg over the board with the full intention of beating the shit out of his ex-teammate. But before he could get his other leg over, he felt a hand wrapped around his arm to hold him back.

“Tyler, don’t! It’s not worth it; we need you.” Tyler knew Rous was right. If he hopped onto the ice just to fight Bergeron, he’d be kicked out of the game and maybe even suspended by the league, but he couldn’t calm down. He knew Bergeron attacked Jamie just to get to him. The more he thought about it, the more physically sick he felt.

“He… He just-” Tyler’s emotions prevented him from being able to finish his sentence, but seeing Jordie and his other teammates who were on the ice quickly spring to action to defend Jamie helped him stay on the bench and not do anything stupid.

When the refs started to put the fires out in the scrum, a Stars trainer was able to help Jamie off the ice and down the tunnel to the locker room. Tyler watched as he disappeared down the hallway, wanting to run after him and do what he could to help make him better. But, he was stuck on the bench with a game to somehow finish.

Tyler sat back down on the bench, stick gripped tightly beneath his gloves. He felt completely helpless, which made his jaw clench. Tyler knew the next time he stepped onto the ice he had to have his revenge. That was the only thing in his control right now. He was determined, more than ever, to make the Bruins regret it.

~~~~~

“Tyler, first of all congrats on the win. How does it feel to get the game winning goal, not only against your former team but in an intense game like that?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean it’s obviously nice to win against your old team. Especially in a heated game like that. When your captain takes a bad hit you want to win that much more.” Tyler hummed, trying to keep the anger he still had at bay.

“When Jamie exited the game after taking the butt end of Bergeron’s stick, what was the message to the rest of the team going into the final minutes of the game?”

“Finish the game. Jamie couldn’t be there to fight with us, so we knew we needed to fight for him. I thought we obviously responded well, and I’m glad we didn’t let them take the game after taking our captain from us.” Tyler ignored the bewildered expressions he got in response to his non-cookie cutter answer. He could care less if the Bruins saw this interview. Actually, he wanted them to see it.

“Tyler, last question. What did you think about Kari Lehtonen’s performance in the net tonight?”

“It was everything. He kept us in the game, and I wish we could have given him some more breathing room, but he stood on his head and didn’t allow anything past him.”

“Thanks, Tyler.”

“Thanks,” Tyler parroted before getting back to peeling his sweaty equipment off his body.

Instead of hitting the showers, Tyler slipped back into his warm-up clothes and made his way down the hall to the medical room. When he walked in, he saw Jamie sitting back against the examination bench with an ice pack wrapped around his ribs. Jamie turned his head when he felt another presence in the room, a smile spreading on his lips when he saw who it was. 

“Hell of a wrister, Segs,” Jamie croaked out. Hearing the pain still evident in Jamie’s voice made Tyler want to cry.

“You gonna be okay?” Tyler asked. He didn’t want to talk about himself. In fact, feeling like Jamie’s injury was his fault caused Tyler to be disgusted with himself.

“I’m fine, just some bruised ribs,” Jamie replied while looking down at his ice pack covered ribs.

“How long will you be out?” Tyler’s voice was quiet, scared to hear the answer.

“I don’t know. They said we’d monitor it tonight and make a decision tomorrow. I’m sure I won’t miss the game,” Tyler could tell Jamie was lying, positive Jamie was trying to protect him, to not let Tyler’s concern grow. He made a mental note to ask the doctor on his way out what timeframe for recovery he’d actually given Jamie.

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and nodded slowly. He was glad Jamie’s condition wasn’t worse, but he still couldn’t shake the ache in his own chest. Tyler couldn’t believe he was actually taking Bergeron’s words to heart right now, but he couldn’t disagree with it. He wanted to tell Jamie exactly why Bergeron hated him so much, and he wanted more than anything to tell Jamie how he really felt about him because Jamie did deserve to know.

“Tyler,” Jamie said softly, “what’s wrong?” Tyler mentally kicked himself for allowing his body language and facial expression to be read like a book.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” Tyler sighed and leaned against the doorway. He cast his eyes downwards so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Jamie’s concerned stare.

“It’s hockey, Tyler. It happens.”

“That wasn’t hockey. That was a cheap shot against the wrong person,” Tyler argued. “I don’t know why he didn’t just come after me. I’m sorry you had to pay the price for my battle.”

“Your battle is my battle, Segs.”

Tyler snapped his eyes up to look at Jamie, because that response? How could he not? God, why did Jamie have to be so noble? And so damn attractive while looking at Tyler with his body all banged up from protecting him. If this was a rom-com, they’d be making out by now. But it’s not, and Tyler needed to stop picturing it while making eye contact with Jamie.

“I’m your captain, dummy. It’s what I do,” Jamie chuckled and tossed a small wad of tape in Tyler’s direction, as if to say ‘lighten up.’

Tyler let out a sigh of relief, or was it disappointment? Either way, he forced a small smile and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Chubbs,” Tyler teased, gently tossing the tape ball back at him to avoid injuring Jamie more. “You ready to get on the bus?”

“I still need a minute. Save me a seat?”

“’Course,” Tyler answered, and Jamie smiled in return. Tyler turned out of the room, shaking his head as he walked back to the locker room to gather his things.

“Well, fuck,” Tyler thought to himself. “Stupid love.” 

[vminni]

Minho wasn’t completely consumed by vanity, but he had a nice face and he knew it. So who could blame him for taking selfies whenever he had the chance? At work, at school, at the studio. A face like his deserved to be photographed.

Today’s photoshoot was happening on the bus on the way back to campus after a lunch out with some friends. Minho’s hair was soft and his face free of makeup, silver crosses dangling from his ears.

He snapped a bunch of pictures, the boredom of the bus ride driving him more than anything. He spammed the group chat with every picture he took, not even bothering to check them as he sent them out into cyberspace. He knew he looked good.

It was a message from Chan that made him pause, curiosity peaked.

‘So glad you’re having a fun flirt-mance on the bus, but why do we have to be involved?’

Minho scrolled back up through the chat and noticed something that he hadn’t when he sent the pictures. There was a boy in the background of every single one. A cute boy with brown hair and a face mask, who was sitting a few seats back from Minho.

In the first picture he was just zoning out, eyes down and completely unaware of Minho’s snapshot.

The next picture he was looking up, eyes wide and startled as they locked on the camera.

In the third picture he looked slightly distressed and his head was turned a bit, as if he was in the process of looking around to see if there was someone else Minho could possibly be photographing.

He seemed resigned to his fate in the fourth picture and he threw up a peace sign, his mask tugged over his chin as he made a face for the camera.

A series of kissy faces, grins and stuck out tongues followed, and Minho found himself smiling at the stranger’s antics.

‘I honestly didn’t even realize,’ Minho typed back before lifting his phone to take one last photo.

This time, instead of focusing on himself, he checked the corner of the screen to see if the boy was paying attention.

He was and he threw up two finger hearts as Minho snapped the picture, grins on both their faces.

-

The bus stopped at the first campus stop and Jisung stood, wondering if he should say anything to the mysterious photographer as he passed.

He didn’t have much time to think, as the boy was only a few seats in front of him, so he figured he’d just wing it when he got there. He slowed as he reached the stranger’s seat and the boy looked up, offering him a lopsided smile as they locked eyes.

Jisung’s steps stuttered and he felt a blush rising to his cheeks, “Shit, you’re hot.”

The kid laughed and Jisung burst into flames, hurrying off the bus before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

He practically sprinted into his lecture, dropping down into his seat next to Seungmin with a groan.

“What’s up with you?” his friend inquired, taking in Jisung’s flustered state.

“There was a dude on the bus taking pictures of me and I was going to say something to him when I got off but he was super hot and that’s what I said and he laughed at me.”

Seungmin’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Taking pictures of you? Are you sure?”

Jisung nodded and sunk down further in his seat, “There was no one else behind me. It had to be me.”

“Which was was he holding his phone? Front or back facing you?”

“Front,” Jisung tugged his notebook and a pen out of his bag, glancing up when Seungmin scoffed at him.

“He was taking selfies, you idiot.”

Jisung blanched, “What?”

“You’re absolutely hopeless.”

“Oh god,” Jisung dropped his head to his desk and groaned. “Kill me.”

-

Minho hummed to himself as he got off the bus and made his way back to the dorms, a debate raging in his head.

Would it be weird to change his home screen to one of the selfies with the stranger in it?

The kid was clearly aware that he was in the photos, and he hadn’t said or done anything to indict he was upset about it.

But it didn’t change the fact that he was a complete stranger and it might be weird for Minho to be staring at a photo of him every day.

Upon entering his room, Minho was pleased to note that his roommate was there. He kicked off his shoes and dropped down on his stomach on Woojin’s bed, reaching over to tug the headphones out of his friend’s ears.

“Would it be weird to make this picture my phone background?” Minho shoved his phone in Woojin’s face, showing him the photo that featured the stranger’s finger hearts. “I don’t know this kid.”

Woojin offered it a brief glance, “Yeah, probably.”

Unsatisfied with that answer, Minho flipped over onto his stomach, phone held above his face. He stared at the photo, at the bright grin of the cute boy he kind of sort of wished he actually did know.

“I’m gonna do it.”

“Then why did you even bother asking me in the first place?”

Minho rolled off the bed and shrugged, stashing his phone in his pocket, “I was hoping you’d say it wasn’t weird.”

“Why were you taking photos of a dude you don’t know anyway?”

“I didn’t realize he was in the background, I wasn’t paying attention.” Minho crossed to his mirror and mussed his hair, appreciating the soft pretty boy staring back at him. “He talked to me when he got off the bus. He said I was hot.”

Woojin rolled his eyes at his friend’s primping, “That’s not new information.”

“I know,” Minho grinned, cheekily sticking his tongue out at his reflection. “But I still love to hear it. Especially from cute boys.”

He flopped down onto his own bed and pulled out his phone, legs dangling off the side as he pulled up his instagram profile.

Hesitating for only second, Minho uploaded the selfie with the stranger flashing a peace sign in the background.

He typed up a quick caption before posting, ‘If anyone knows this cutie, please hit me up with his @.’

Satisfied he’d have a name to match to the face within the hour, he balanced his phone on his lap and waited.

-

Felix was waiting outside when Jisung and Seungmin exited their lecture, bouncing on his toes and looking like he was about to burst.

“Someone’s excited about lunch,” Seungmin muttered as the pair approached their friend.

“Not lunch,” Felix’s stomach let out an audible grumble and he grinned sheepishly. “Okay, I am excited about lunch. But more about this.”

He held out his phone, where an Instagram profile was loaded.

“Hey, that’s me,” Jisung snatched the phone out of Felix’s hand, blinking in confusion. “How did you find this? Who posted it?”

“Minho,” Felix stated, as if it was all the explanation needed.

And it was.

“Oh,” Jisung’s mouth fell open in surprise, brain flooded with all the times Felix had returned to their apartment, gushing about the pretty senior he shared most of his dance classes with who was most definitely Jisung’s type and most definitely single. “That’s Minho?”

“Yup,” Felix popped the ‘p’ and gestured for Jisung to scroll down, his giddiness barely contained. “Look at the caption.”

Jisung did as he was instructed, flushing immediately when he read what Minho had written, “He thinks I’m cute?”

“I knew he would!” Felix was practically vibrating with excitement as he took his phone back from Jisung. “This is fantastic!”

“Why are you so excited about this? And can we talk about it as we move? I’m starving,” Seungmin interjected.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Felix started walking and the other two fell into step besides him. “I’ve been trying to get Jisung to meet Minho for weeks, I totally knew they were each other’s types. But Jisung wouldn’t do it. Now this happened! It’s fate!”

“Did you tell him who I was?” Jisung swung his bag of his back and dug around for his phone, a little nervous to look and see if he had any notifications.

“Hyunjin saw the post before I did. I’m pretty sure he commented your username.”

Sure enough, when Jisung powered his phone on, there were a stream of Instagram notifications waiting for him.

He saw that Minho had followed him, tagged him in a post and liked a bunch of his old photos. He also had a DM, but he was a bit scared to look at that right away.

First he pulled up the tagged photo. It was a selfie from the bus, with half of Minho’s face in the photo and Jisung sticking out his tongue in the background. The caption read, ‘I hope you don’t mind me posting pictures of you, you’re too adorable not to share with the world.’

Jisung doubled tapped the photo before he could talk himself out of it. He thought about commenting, but figured the like was enough to let Minho know he wasn’t mad. He followed the older boy and liked the other photo with himself in it, then moved on to check his messages.

The message from Minho contained only his phone number and a smiley face emoji.

-

Minho was leaving the studio for the night, hair damp from his shower and headphones blasting music in his ears, when his phone finally lit up with the text he’d been waiting for all day.

It was short, just a simple ‘hey, this is Jisung’ but it was enough to bring a smile to Minho’s lips. He sat down on the wall outside the dance building and knocked his heels off the bricks as he quickly typed out a response, ‘hi, Jisungie, sorry for taking photos of you earlier, I hope you don’t think I’m insanely creepy.’

‘It’s okay,’ Minho’s phone lit up almost immediately. ‘My friend told me you were probably taking selfies and didn’t even notice I was in the background. Sorry for ruining all your pictures.’

‘You didn’t ruin anything! They’re so much better with you in them,’ Minho attached all the photos from the bus to the message. ‘You’re such a cutie.’

No response came and Minho worried his bottom lip, scared he’d already driven the other boy away. Just as he was about to throw his phone in the trash and move across the world to Canada, a new message popped up.

‘How can you compliment me when you’re out here looking like that? You’re so gorgeous, it’s completely unfair.’

Minho giggled, his feet swinging happily as he lifted his phone with one hand and pressed his other hand to his cheek as he snapped a picture. He sent the photo to Jisung, ‘ Stoppppp, you’re making me blush.’

Jisung replied with a selfie of his own and Minho opened it eagerly, laughing when he saw how red the younger boy’s cheeks were, ‘I think I win when it comes to blushing.’

‘ Fine, you win, but only because you’re so adorable.’

-

Jisung smoothed his bangs with nervous fingers, glancing at the closed door to the dance building. Minho had asked for Jisung to meet him there when his class ended, so they could grab a coffee and actually get to know each other.

Seungmin told him it was a date, but Jisung wasn’t sure. No one had said anything about a date.

He’d dressed neatly just in case, pairing a tight pair of black jeans with a gray blazer over a white graphic t-shirt. He added a few accessory and a beret, but ditched the beret at the last minute because he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, just in case.

He messed with his hair again before shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as the doors open and a wave of chattering students spilled out and down the front steps.

“Sungie!”

Jisung glanced up at the call of his name and saw Minho skipping towards him, hair damp from the shower and duffle bag banging against his hip.

Jisung reached out without thinking, sliding the bag off Minho’s shoulder and on to his own as he offered the dancer a shy smile.

Minho lit up at the gesture, grinning brightly, “You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Jisung fell into step besides Minho, glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “So do you.”

“Thanks,” Minho smoothed his hands over his striped button down, smiling to himself at Jisung’s words.

Jisung hitched Minho’s bag higher on his shoulder and wondered what he should say now. He was normally pretty quick witted, but beautiful boys rendered him incapable of normal functioning.

Minho spared him by speaking up, “Felix talks about you all the time.”

“Oh, um, yeah, he, um, might have mentioned you occasionally too.”

Minho nudged Jisung with his elbow until the younger boy met his gaze, “He’s been telling me for weeks that his roommate is totally my type and I should totally meet him. I should have listened to him sooner.”

Jisung flushed and went back to looking at his feet, fingers clutching the strap of Minho’s bag, “He said the same thing to me about you. I didn’t really believe him though. Which is probably why he was so giddy when he saw your post.”

“He practically tackled me when I got to class today. He just kept screaming, ‘I knew you’d like Jisung!’ until Hyunjin told him to shut up. It was a lot.”

Minho’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, thumbing it open. Jisung didn’t mean to be nosy, but he just so happened to glance over as Minho closed out of whatever message he had been responding to.

“You made one of those pictures your home screen?”

It was incredible how quickly Minho’s face turned bright red. He winced, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand, “It’s weird, right? I’m sorry. I’ll change it.”

Jisung stopped walking so he could look Minho in the eye, which proved difficult as the older boy did everything in his power to avoid his gaze. “It’s fine,” Jisung promised. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Minho bit into his bottom lip, cheeks still a deep red despite Jisung’s assurance, “No, I know it’s weird. You don’t have to lie.”

Jisung dug his own phone out of his pocket and made quick work of setting one of Minho’s selfies as his own background. He held it out to the older boy once he was done, “There, now we match.”

A small smile tugged at Minho’s lips, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I like looking your face,” Jisung shrugged as he put his phone away. “Saves me the trouble of constantly going to my photos to swoon over you.”

Minho let out a soft laugh and Jisung could see that his embarrassment was beginning to ebb away. Feeling bold, he reached out and offered his hand to the older boy. Minho didn’t hesitate to take it, weaving their fingers together as they beamed at each other.

-

“So how was your date?” Woojin asked, glancing up from his laptop when Minho returned to their shared room.

“Check the group chat,” was all Minho said before collapsing on his bed, hugging his teddy bear to his chest and staring at the ceiling with starry eyes.

Woojin rolled his eyes and snatched up his phone, bracing himself when he saw the slew of messages Minho had filled the chat with. Seconds later he let out a disgusted groan.

“Did you seriously have to spam the group chat with ten million pictures of you and Jisung making out?”

[pattyg1992]

Ripped From Time

Thomas Sanders

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Chicago, Illinois

Tom walks silently, his hands clutching the straps of his backpack. He stares ahead. Groups of others walk in both directions, carrying books, bags, cellphones. The sounds of chatter, laughter, music blaring from headphones. The hum of traffic on the road to his left is constant. The honk of cars at the convoy of yellow buses pulling out of the school.

“Hey! Tom!”  

He comes to a stop and turns his head left, and sees a kid sticking his head out of the bus window. It’s already passing him, but the kid leans out further to keep in his sight. Tom just smiles and shakes his head.

“Remember, tomorrow after school! Navy Pier! Be there!”, the kid says before waving.

Tom nods his head and waves back before continuing forward. Before too long he sees the playground up ahead. A few guys have congregated there. Sitting on the swings, leaning against the equipment. They talk boisterously, a few of them are smoking. A familiar smell enters Tom’s nose. He stops breathing through his noise to keep out the smell.

He watches them until one of them catches his eye. Quickly looking away, he turns to his right, walking down a deserted alley. His nose now wrinkles at the smell of garbage coming from an old dumpster, but he keeps walking.  

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out. A text message from his mom.

Be on the lookout for your sister please! I won’t be home until later.

With a sigh he rolls his eyes and puts the phone away. A faint ringing begins in his ears. He shakes his head trying to get rid of it, but the ringing only starts to increase in volume. Suddenly he begins to feel light-headed and he leans against a brick wall for support. Nausea sets in. All sound goes away, the only thing he can hear is the ringing which is now deafening. Everything begins to spin and go blurry. Then everything goes dark and silent.

His eyes open, and he immediately shields them from a blinding white light from above. The dizziness remains but the ringing in his ears are fading. The beam of light fades off. The nausea and vertigo fades with it. He sits up and looks around. His surroundings are dark, but it appears to be some kind of room. As he gets up, he briefly pauses. He feels his shoulder and back and then turns around and crouches. Reaching out with his hands he pats the floor, registering the hard surface of stone.

“Where’s my bag?”, he asks.

From somewhere above a voice echoes, making him jump.

“ATTENTION NEW ARRIVAL! PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE EXIT! THE NEXT ARRIVAL WILL APPEAR IN ONE MINUTE!”

The voice begins to repeat itself as a white outline appears in the gloom in the shape of a door. Tom gets up and walks quickly toward it. The bright light returns, but he barely feels the nausea returns before the door slides open, and he steps out into a white corridor. The walls, ceiling, and floor give off a glow as if light is emanating from it. People began to exit other doors that line the hallway. Hundreds of them shuffle along following a yellow line that appears to move forward leading them along.

He begins to follow them looking back and forth. The hallway seems to go on forever. People move past, some of them mumbling looking confused. Others, quiet but fear in their eyes. Some are dressed in ordinary clothes, but many more appear dressed strange outfits and costumes.  

One woman is wearing a crinoline dress. Her hair tall and elegant. Her skin powdered white with red rouge on her cheeks. Another person, who he guessed was a man walked past in dark robes, his face hooded and hidden. A trio of women in flapper dresses blush and brush past a man with chestnut skin and long dark hair. His only clothing a loincloth.

Tom takes on a variety of men, women, and children of various ethnicities and outfits. He turns to a wizened old man in a feathered headdress. Before he can say anything the hallway ends. He steps through and gasps. He is standing at the top of amphitheater of indescribable size. It is entirely made of stone. Thousands of rows, descending, holds a great mass of humanity, and more appear from entrances surrounding them every second.  

He looks up at the night sky. It is clear with countless stars twinkling. However, there are two moons, and what appears to be a planet as close as any moon but green in color. The crowd begins to push him towards one of the rows of stone benches. He does not fight it but follows the flow and takes his place staring down to the bottom of the amphitheater. It’s almost too far down to see but he squints, just making out a raised platform with what appears to be people standing there.  

“Tom? I-is that you?”, says a voice to his immediate right. His head turns and stares into the eyes of a familiar face. His eyes widen, and for a second, he pulls away.

“Andy? What happened? You look so different?” says Tom.

“You look exactly the same. I thought you were dead. We all did.”

Tom stares at him for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up at Navy Pier that day. No one knew where you were. You just... went missing. It’s been ten years. But how do you look the same?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” A voice behind Tom makes them both look around. A guy dressed in skater attire gives them a superior look.

“Tell me what’s today’s date?”

“What?”, asks Tom.

“Come on, just humor me.”, says the guy.

“March 6, 2020, why?”

Tom turns to Andy who just shrugs.

“That can’t be right, it’s March 4, 2010.”, says Tom.

“Last time I checked it’s June 19, 1994.” says the guy,

He laughs at the disbelief on their faces and shakes his head.

“It didn’t take me long to figure it out. For one thing there are more than a few people dressed like they’re going to a period ball. Some look like they belong in a Shakespeare play. One dude was walking around in a toga in laurel wreaths like he’s a Roman. And I could have sworn I saw people from the lost colony of Roanoke.”

“That’s crazy. But I mean-”, Patrick looks at Andy, inspecting a few gray hairs.

“That would explain why you look 27 instead of 17.”

“I guess, unless we’re all just dead. Maybe this is limbo.”, says Andy looking around.

“No, that didn’t feel like dying to me. Too trippy. And I felt like throwing up. We’ve all been ripped from time!” says the guy.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

Toms turns back around and his jaw drops. What it appears to be a gigantic hologram floats in the center of the amphitheater. It depicts a man well groomed, in a white outfit. There are gasps around the room and more than a few hysterical screams and shouts of alarm.

“Please, remain calm. Everything will be fine. I know there are more than a few of you who can’t process what you’re seeing but I’ll explain everything.”

Tom looks around. Many of the screams have died down and there is a low buzz as the mass of people began murmuring among themselves. Several of them are speaking unfamiliar languages.

“To put it simply, we have taken you all from different times in history. All of human history going back two hundred thousand years.”

Tom’s heart begins to beat. He’s barely aware of the gasps of surprise and confusion. He turns back to the skater guy, who gives him a satisfied smirk before turning back to the hologram.

“I know this is confusing, but it was necessary. To preserve the species, we had to take all of you, in small groups, throughout time. You are all that’s left of humanity, and you’re going to help its continuation.  

A blast of noise forces Tom to cover his ears but he can make out some of the words among the crowd.

“Where are we?”

“Who are you?”

“Take me back home!”

“My family must be worried sick!”

The hologram of the man raises his hands and every single voice cuts off. Tom looks around and sees lips moving, he can feel the vibrations of shouts, but no sound can be heard. He turns to Andy who mouths, “How did they do that?”.

“I don’t know.” Tom responds back testing out his lack of voice.

“Everything will be fine, I promise you.”, the hologram says. “It will all make sense in time. Unfortunately, you’ll never return to your lives. We’ve selected all of you for a reason. To history you’ve all gone missing and vanished without explanation, but a new history is being written. Your descendants will see you as the pioneers of a new civilization. A new life awaits you.”

As he speaks hundreds of people in black uniforms appear among the crowd. Seemingly out of thin air. Tom jumps as one of them appears in front of him, gesturing for him to move. He tries to stay close to Andy as he is jostled and moved by the crowd. He breaks out into a sweat, visibly shaking, as he is ushered downstairs to the bottom of the amphitheater. He sees the mysterious figures on the raised stand below as he descends towards them.

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Best Mistake Pt. 3: Championships And Diamond Ponies

Never in a million years would you have thought that you'd become best friends with a man like Delsin Rowe. Not that it's a bad thing, but very different from most things you've done. Certainly you never imagined you'd be filling your bag with rolls of tape and cutting out stencils late at night, all in preparation for an illicit art piece with a certain Akomish friend. Maybe that's what drew you in. Delsin isn't like any other person you've met before, he’s different. He is lively, exciting, bold, outspoken, creative, he is everything captivating, and a total bad boy. However, you never dared to say any of these words directly to his face, you already know better. It would only increase his cockiness and you'd never hear the end of his gloats. Still, you knew you'd always have a retort ready and he'd always mock right back and that was basically all part of a daily routine for you and Delsin. The roots of your friendship.

All it took was a few stencil jobs, running (lots and lots of running), coffee shops, and an aerosol can to build a relationship as thick as thieves. A relationship strictly platonic of course, that's how you prefer to keep it. You’re currently having too much fun with you partner in crime and therefore want absolutely nothing to ruin it. Yet that never stops Delsin from being his usual charismatic self, which leaves you to question yourself if there is a possibility for something more. Only to be followed by you shrugging off the question and completely abandoning the thought...at least for the while.

And so here you are sitting on the floor by the feet of your bed, cutting out stencils for your first original piece in preparation for the next day. With headphones in your ears blasting off "I Wanna be yours", by Arctic Monkeys, you start to replay the memory of your first time creating a tag with Delsin in your head.

'Are you sure this is a safe spot?' you asked.

Delsin rose from the floor with two rolls of tape in his hands and delivered you a smirk, 'Pfft yeah, totally. Now c'mon stop being paranoid and help me tape this thing.'

You complied and picked up two spray cans and handed one to Delsin.

'Ooh i love the sound when you-,' you shook the spray can and let the sound of the metal ball clashing within the walls of the can finish your sentence.

You giggle to yourself. Never did you really get tired of that sound or the smell. Now it became a habit. It’s fun.

Your phone shuffles on to the next song and so you start to hum to "Arabella,". Man, the Arctic Monkeys have good music. The music is blasting so loud from your ear buds that you’re pretty sure if someone were to walk in your room right at that moment they would totally be able to hear your music clearly. However, unbeknownst to you, Delsin had climbed up your fire escape and had quietly crept into your room.

He stands still as he observes the area until he spots you sitting below the feet of your bed, peaceful and undisturbed. Boy, was that about to change. His left eyebrow quirks up in mischief as a sudden idea hits him. Very, very carefully he begins to climb onto your bed, slowly crawling towards the end until he is practically next to your unsuspecting form. Slowly, he lowers his head to your level. By now you’re suspecting movement behind you but are too late to react before he-

"BOOO!!!!"

"AHHHHH!!!! OH!! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" you say through gritted teeth in attempt to keep your voice low but at the moment you are more concerned with recovering from your mini heart attack.

You bring a hand to your chest and release a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Delsin on the other hand is literally rolling of laughter on your bed with a pillow clutched to his face to muffle his laughs. Unamused, you get up and begin to pelt him with your two spare pillows. Delsin is caught off guard but quickly retaliates and manages to drag you onto the bed and into a full on pillow fight.

You release a low shriek as you fall on your bed and start to thrash around, aimlessly swinging your two pillows. Amused by your tactic, Delsin laughs and mimics your comical yet potent strategy, using his spare hand as a personal guard for his face.

"Watch the face, watch the face!" he warns, " you hit the face, this friendship ends!"

"The only ship in pillow fights are championships!" you retort as you stand on your knees and ambush him with your pillows.

He lowers his arm shielding his face, "Oh so that's how it's gonna be?"

Big mistake.

Setting his guard down puts him at an extreme vulnerability, even if for a millisecond. That is all you need. You expertly cease the opportunity, hitting him with your left pillow and went in for a second hit but he deflects it with his arm and hits you with his pillow successfully knocking you off your knees.

"Okay...okay...okay," you say between breaths and laughter before collapsing onto one side of the bed with your legs dangling. "Tie?"

He releases a tired laugh and tosses his pillow onto your stomach before collapsing onto the opposite side of you, "Tie."

"How did you even get here?" you ask as you take the pillow from your stomach and put it under your neck.

"Reggie drove me," he simply replies.

You scoff, "I meant how did you get in my room?"

"Oh," he smirks. "It was a lot easier than you'd think."

"And the heart attack??"

"Okay that was just for fun and partially payback."

"For?...." you sit up from your current position and Delsin slowly rises after you.

"Foorrr stealing my beanie!" he swiftly steals the burgundy hat from your head, putting it back on his head and lays back down again.

"Aw," you frown, you had forgotten you even had it on you at the moment. It's a miracle it managed to stay on during the entire pillow fight. "Pfffftt I looked way better in it anyways."

"You'd look good in anything, babe," Delsin quickly counteracts.

"I'm not your babe," you say as you rise from your spot on the bed and carefully go back to your previous spot on the floor to continue the stencils, making sure your ever reddening cheeks are not in Delsin's line of sight .

"But you're a total babe."

You roll your eyes and scoff as you begin to cut out more stencils. "You know, you really shouldn't tempt me while I'm holding scissors. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty little face of yours."

He rolls over on the bed and rests his head on his right palm to face you, "So you think I'm pretty?"

You scoff again and resume cutting out stencils, "Is there a reason why you're here?"

"Oh feisty are we today?" he finally rises from the bed and walks around your room."Y’know I love how climbable your room is. Seriously, it's like it was meant specifically for me to sneak into," he says as he picks out a book from a shelf and begins to observe it.

Without breaking concentration from your current task, you reply, "Well I’m glad the alternative to my front door suits you so well. You know my dad would never let you walk in through the front entrance."

Surprised by your comment, Delsin narrows his eyes and places the book back on its previous spot on your shelf, "Wow, (Name) thanks. Knowing your dad hates me so much that he wouldn't let me through the front door if I tried really means a lot to me," he says sarcastically as he takes a seat on your bed.

You feel a little muddled by his tone. You can't quite place your finger on it but regardless you attempt to lighten the mood a little, "Well technically he doesn't hate you, he doesn't even know you exist."

"Speaking of which, you're doing a real good job keeping your family in dark about all this," he motions to the stencils. "How does it feel?"

With this question asked, you put down your scissors and sigh, "Necessary. My mom can be understanding but my dad- not so much. Who knows, maybe one day I won't have to hide who I really am," you roll your eyes and continue to cut out stencils again. "Then I'll ride my diamond pony off into the sunset. With double the horns for double the awesome."

"Wait, horses don't have horns, don't you mean like a unicorn?"

You bring your legs closer to your chest and rest your head on your knees as you pretend to cry and release a muffled, "Let me and my diamond pony beeee."

He lightly chuckles and folds his arms across his chest, "Well you don't have to hide who you around me. You know I don't."

"That's true," you pop your head out, "you haven't changed much since the day I first met you. Don't get me wrong though, it's not a bad thing"

"Hmph. That's funny because I don't wish I could say the same about you."

Perplexed and slightly offended you put your scissors down and turn your attention to Delsin, "What?"

"Well," he says as he moves to sit down on the floor next to you,"when I first met you, I obviously didn't know you as well as I do now. We actually became pretty great friends, therefore I'm glad I don't get to say that you haven't changed much since when we first met. You're more than just a pretty girl I met by the bay."

It's become a usual habit for Delsin to flirt with you. Yet it was moments like these, when he'd act and say things like that, that would leave you lingering with curiosity. Could there be something between you two or was Delsin just being Delsin?

Regardless, you decide to play along, "So you think I'm pretty?"

"Oh I think you're way more than pretty," he smirks.

You release a low chuckle in response to his compliment. Then suddenly a clever yet cunning idea strikes your mind. You turn your body to face him and inch closer and promptly his actions follow yours.

"Believe me, pretty would be a major understatement," he adds.

"Is that so?" you learn in a little closer.

"Definitely," he purrs.

"You know I'm kinda glad you snuck in through my window tonight," you lean in more, now only mere inches separating your faces.

"Why's that babe?" He leans in closer.

You lightly scoff at his remark. If only he knew.

"So....-," you trail off to make the pretense of you closing in the gap between you and Delsin.

"So you can help me finish the stencils!" you laugh as you swiftly stand up from your spot on the floor, leaving behind a very confused Delsin to fall onto your previously occupied seat.

Realizing what just happened, Delsin releases an evil chuckle and rubs his chin,"That was cruel, (Name), real cruel."

You stand triumphantly with your arms crossed and a pout on your lips, "Aw really?"

"Very," he says as he stands up and walks over to you. "But too can play it that game," he pokes you by your rib, earning a loud giggle and flinch from you.

"What, are you ticklish there?"

"What? No!" You protest.

Not buying your protest he pokes again and you release another giggle and quick jump. Amused, he starts to poke you continuously at your new found ticklish area.

"Del...sin....stop!" You plea between breathes and giggles.

Somehow in the midst of laughing and slapping Delsin's hands away, he manages to entangle his arms around your stomach getting an even better leverage in your apparent tickle fight. For a moment you had forgotten where you are and how loud you’re being. That is until you hear a knock at your bedroom door followed by your mother's voice.

"(Name)?" She says, causing both you and Delsin to cease your actions, his arms still around you.

"Is everything okay in there? I thought I heard-"

"Uh-erm yeah mom. I just- stepped on a... lego! Yeah, yeah, you know how annoying that can be," you say as you side glance at Delsin's face hovering over your shoulder, his lips pursed and face turned the other direction to avoid your glance.

"Legos? Do you still even have those-"

"Everything is fine mom, I'll be downstairs in a second okay?"

"Okay honey."

You wait until you hear your mother's footsteps descend the stairs before breaking free from Delsin's hold.

He mockingly pouts at your escape before asking, "Did you really used to have legos?"

"Yeah..."

"Cute," he chuckles. "So did I actually. But I kept getting mad when I accidentally stepped on them. Those things really hurt like a b-"

"(Y/N)!" Your mom calls from downstairs.

“I think she needs you for something,” he lightly giggles.

"Coming, mom!" you yell towards the door. “Wait here I’ll be back in a few,” you say to him as you exit your room.

Delsin nods resumes to observing your room. He really did take a mental note of how easy it was to access your fire escape and even wondered why the thought didn’t occur to him before. As he walks around your room he notices the many pictures you have up on a bulletin board of your friends and family.

“Okay...think she mentioned you before...and you I don’t know…,” he says as he ogles the photos.

“Ah, there’s the infamous cousin of hers,” he smiles as he recalls you telling him of how your favorite cousin was the one who drove you to the Akomish reservation on the day you and Delsin first met. “Gotta make sure to thank you when I see you… in person because now you’re a photo and… okay just shut up, Delsin.”

He continues to observe your room and starts to look for any pictures of the two of you. When he can’t seem to find any he begins to feel a little disappointed until he accidentally knocks over a book from your desk and from it slips out a small polaroid picture of the two of you.

He picks it up and he immediately remembers the day the picture was taken. You two had gone out to the park since it was predicted to have been a very sunny day. And it was until it started to unsurprisingly rain. You had left your umbrella at home and so Delsin decided to use his sweater to shield both of your already damp forms. His height made it easy for him to get coverage over the two of you and that’s when you pulled out your polaroid and took the picture.

“Cheese!” You said, catching Delsin off guard but he still managed to put on a ridiculously cheesy smile for the picture.

“Oh man, this one’s a keeper!” You said as you showed him the funny photo of the two of you. Drenched clothes, outstretch arms and big bright smiles.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask as you walk into the room, interrupting Delsin’s reverie.

“Hmph? Oh I-uh found this,” he hands the photo to you.

“Oh, I remember that day,” you say happily. “We got fucking drenched but your off guard smile is priceless,” you laugh.

Delsin merely laughs and smiles as you observe the photo. However, once you put it back in the book it was originally hidden in, his smile falters.

“Why don’t you have it up like the rest of your photos,” he asks.

“What and risk it being seen by my parents?” you say as if the answer is the most obvious thing.

“Okay,” he scoffs. “It’s kinda hard to not be offended by what you just said there. Is being friends with me that much of a burden to you?” He folds his arms across his chest.

“What? Of course not I just-”

“Listen I know you wanna keep the tag stuff a secret but why do you have to hide me from everyone?”

“I’m not! My cousin knows about you and some friends too,” you clarify. “They actually kinda wanna meet you, they say you seem really cool and fun.”

“Well I’m glad the cousin and your friends approve but would it really be that bad of a thing if your parents knew about me?"

You try to say something as you just stare at him but nothing comes out.

“What?” He steps closer. “You afraid they won’t approve of you hanging out with ‘some delinquent’?”

“Hey, that's not true, and you know i don't give a rat's ass about what my dad thinks," you say, almost bitterly.

“Then why hide me?”

“Why do you suddenly care?”

“Why do I care that my alleged best friend won't even admit to me being her best friend in front of anyone else but me?!"

If his outrage isn’t seen in his eyes then it sure as hell is heard in his voice.

You briefly glance at the door before calmly urging Delsin to keep his voice down.

“No, y’know what, how about I do you one better?” He says as he walks to your window.

“Delsin, wait!” you follow him and catch him as he still has one foot in your room and the other on the fire escape.

“Thanks for the clarity on our relationship,” he says before finally leaving through the fire escape.

Again you call out his name but he either doesn’t hear you or he simply chooses not to. However, after the fight you two just had you don’t blame him if he chose the latter.

You walk over to your stencils and slump down to the floor as his words and the look of hurt in his eyes just repeat over and over and over again in your head.

“Thanks for the clarity on our relationship.”

“Oh fuck,” you sigh and rub at your temples. “What did I just do?”

[treasure-my-aurora]

One More Night. Pt 6

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong / fem!Reader

Chapter: 6/14

Genre: Mutual pining, canon compliant, fluffy af, angsty af, suggestive, teasing and filled with that good shit that everyone loves

Words in this chapter: 5240

It was the 29th and four days had passed since we got back to Korea after the Europe tour. Three of those days were spent to properly come back on my feet and find my previous everyday schedule. I hadn’t heard from Hongjoong since I said goodbye to them outside their dorm, his fingers had brushed over my hair and he held me a little closer than the rest of the staff, revelled in the feeling of my body against his and I avoided his eyes, not trusting that we weren’t watched. I laid on my bed, restless as I didn’t have anything planned for the day, scrolling down the feed of the same four apps I frequently used, and I felt empty as the cold loneliness of my apartment seemed to swallow me whole. I looked up at the ceiling, and let my phone fall out of my hand against the bed. I couldn’t help but wonder what he did now? If he’d repeated the moment, we shared the last night in Moscow in his mind as many times as I had? But he was probably busy with music production. Their new comeback was in seven weeks and knowing him, four of those weeks would be spent in the studio, perfecting the songs and performance. I sighed and curled up in a fetal position, my hands were tucked into the arms of my sweatshirt and I closed my eyes, shuddered slightly from the cold. I didn’t know why I always seemed to freeze, my radiators were on full blast and I never had a window opened. I blamed it on the fact that I was raised in a big family in a small house, four siblings in one room, barely enough space for our two bunk beds while growing up and ever since I came to the capital, I’d been cold. Until I got my job and got to know Hongjoong, of course. Now I only froze when I was without him, usually when I was on my own in my apartment. I turned around in my bed, onto my stomach and giggled softly to myself when his old shirt came into view, bundled next to my pillows like he’d left it there intentionally to keep me company. I flushed slightly as the sudden domestic image entered my mind and I frowned, a bittersweet pain in the pit of my stomach over the dream that could never be. I rolled over again, my feet hit the floor and I paused, almost impressed with myself that I’d scored the landing but it didn’t last long as I accidently stepped on my laptop charger a bit further down and I cursed loudly as the sudden pain shot from my foot to my leg. A knock on my door stopped my hopping around and I winched, still in pain as I limped over, opened it and gave, not Hongjoong but his manager, a weird look. I wasn’t even aware that he knew where I lived but I guessed that my address must be somewhere on all the papers they had on me. “I was sent to pick you up. Are you presentable?” He asked, as if he wasn’t standing right in front of me and I scoffed, huffed my chest out and the manager looked at me like he wanted to slam me down in a wrestling match. I curled my lip at him, I knew how much he looked down on us styling noona’s. Especially me since I was one of the youngest on my team and also the one who quickly earned the most respect. I didn’t know if it was because he thought that we had a less important job than him or because he simply hated young successful women, but I didn’t like him, and he didn’t like me. “I’m ‘presentable’” I said, using citations and grabbed my keys, phone and wallet and he scoffed back at me, walked first down to the car that awaited us while I locked the door. Not having the courtesy of even waiting at the front entrance door, but sitting in the front passenger's seat already, talking on his phone while I jumped into the back with a sigh. I could only guess the horrors that awaited me at my office, not knowing if there was a problem with the wardrobe or if I would have to sit up all night because a piece of accessory had broken. “He’s in the studio” The manager said shortly, not even looking at me when he beeped his card on the swinging gate at the reception, which separated the lobby and waiting room with the rest of the company and took two steps at the time up the stairs to his office. I looked after him, an almost amused smile on my puzzled face as I shook my head and took the elevator to the third floor. I knocked on the door to the studio, more as a warning than an ask to come in, waited a few seconds and then opened the door. Hongjoong sat in the chair, right finger clicking, dragging music pieces back and forth in a program to create the sound he looked for. His chin rested in his left hand and he turned his head to see who just entered, still in the same slumped over position, an irritated wrinkle between his brows that quickly soften out when he saw that it was me and he broke out in a big smile, turned around completely and I couldn’t do anything but return his smile, my heart flipping and I felt how a flush covered my body when he looked at me with a warmth I couldn’t describe but wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. “Noona… “ He breathed and swallowed, “I’m happy you came” I blushed, my head in the gutter as usual and I couldn’t help but remember a flash of how he’d looked when he came undone before my eyes a few days ago. “Yeah… I missed you” I said, and he sighed, “You can call, you know if you miss me too… I don’t work all the time” He said, and I gave him a questionable look. I knew as well as him that he often was the last one to leave the company, just before the black sky would turn a mixed grey. “You can call too” I tried to defend myself and he combed back his hair, a bit embarrassed. “I know you’re busy…” He trailed off. “And I don’t want to bother you either” I said, and he smiled softly, “You could never bother me” I looked away, a smile on my lips as I realized that we were both idiots; my fingers nervously fiddled with my nails. There was a small pause between us, and I inhaled deeply, my smile faltered slightly, and I asked, “Was it something you wanted or?” “Oh” He scratched his neck awkwardly and gulped, avoided my gaze and sat up more properly in the chair, “I wanted to talk about what happened that last night on tour” I nod and it felt like my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach with worry, “I just wanted to tell you that nothing I did was because I had a drink prior to meeting you. There’s nothing I regret. You know that, I hope?” He asked and I nod again, and butterflies quickly replaced the dread in my stomach at his sweet words. “I don’t regret what we did either but…” I started and Hongjoong smiled at the confirmation that we felt the same, relief behind his eyes, but the smile quickly fell though, and he finished my sentence for me, “But that’s the line” “That’s the line” I repeated, and my heart ached to hold him, feel his body against mine after these long agonizing four days, “People have noticed the change of air around us… Eunji keeps asking me if I want to change my focus as if she’s hinting that I won’t have a choice to do so on my own soon and just yesterday, one of my colleagues asked me about our relationship because she had been at the dorm to pick up some clothes, and overheard Seonghwa complain to Yeosang that you and I quote ‘barely had time for them anymore because if you weren’t at the studio, you were lost in your mind thinking about me and that it was difficult to raise a family on his own’ … I mean that last one is probably him exaggerating it, but you get the point” I said and Hongjoong nodded, a sad expression on his face as his gaze was fastened diagonally down and he swayed anxiously from side to side in his chair. “What have you told them? He asked thoughtfully, a bothered wrinkle between his brows and I shrugged. “I tried to tell them as much of the truth as I could. We’re friends, good friends and that even though we feel attracted to each other, we know where the line is and what we would sacrifice if we crossed that line” He nodded again and I sighed, tired from this constant feeling of needing to hide. “Come” He said and patted on a chair next to him, “Let’s forget about them for a minute or two. What do you think about this?” He gave me the headphones, my fingers brushed against his and I listened to the music he created, my heart full of affection and his smile bright.

…….

It was the beginning of May and I was just about to go out and get dinner when my phone rang. I picked it up, not looking at the caller ID and Wooyoung’s frenzied voice rambled something incoherent. All I could hear was ‘Hongjoong’ and something that sounded like ‘come quick’ at the other end. “Slow down, Youngie. What are you talking about?” I said, my heart rushing as I started to jog down to where my car was parked just as Wooyoung took a deep breath at the other end, “Just hurry, we’re home” Before the call ended and I cursed, got into my car, out of breath from my anxious state already and drove as quickly as I dared to the boy’s dorm. I arrived 10 minutes later, parked and jumped out the car, feared the worst when I unlocked the entrance door with a shaky hand. Took the short stairs up in three steps and then unlocked their front door as well, slammed it behind me and rushed in. “What happened?” I yelled out, prepared to see a full wardrobe of ripped clothing, blood, someone passed out or something else horrible but all I could see was eight pairs of eyes, standing in the living room, dressed in gym clothes as if they’d just came back from dance practise. Wooyoung, San, Mingi and Yunho stood in a half circle around the rest of the members, Hongjoong on his knees, Seonghwa in front of him, holding him down with both hands on his shoulders, Jongho behind him in a similar position with Yeosang just next to him, kitchen scissors in one hand, paused in the middle of a movement, and Hongjoong’s mullet was placed between the two blades, execution style. “Noona… save me, please” Hongjoong begged, relief on his face and he looked at me like I was his knight in shining armour. He tried to wiggle out of their grip but Jongho just shook his head and pressed down on his shoulders harder, almost bending Hongjoong’s knees to a sitting position instead before he gave Yeosang a small nod, “Bye bye mullet” Yeosang sang happily and the snip that followed, echoed between us as a piece of hair dramatically fell to the floor like a leaf in autumn. “Wow, savage” Seonghwa said almost impressed and Yeosang winked at him with finger guns after the scissor was handled to Yunho, another snip followed and Hongjoong hung his head, a pout on his lips as his pride and joy was cut away. “This is what I rushed here for?” I couldn’t help but exclaim, a bit pissed off that it wasn’t anything more serious. “What do you mean? This is a religious experience” Wooyoung said, almost offended as he ritually snipped away another piece of hair before the scissors continued to travel. “We’ve been fighting him for almost an hour and hoped that your input would help him get over the fact that it’s time” Seonghwa said and Hongjoong looked up at him angrily before his eyes moved over to mine. “Why didn’t you tell me about the new concept?” He said a bit hurt and I frowned. “I only plan your wardrobe. I’ve gotten a colour scheme and a mood board and that’s it. We’ll get to know more, just as you at the meeting tomorrow. What do you know about it?” I asked confused as Jongho received the scissors to snip away the last piece while he answered my question. “We only know that hyung’s hair is going to get shorter and the styling noonas gave us the pleasure to cut off the main parts. “My hair” Hongjoong said unhappily and looked down where the traces of the mullet had collected at his feet, before his fingers reached back to touch his naked neck. I couldn’t help but giggle at his misery then, still a bit sour but happy that Wooyoung had called me after all and the members joined in stifled chuckles as they put the scissors away. Jongho leaned down, picked up a strand of hair and said with an impressively straight face, “We could probably sell this to a good price” Seonghwa shook his head, a disapproving look on his face, but a smile still played on his lips as he grabbed the vacuum cleaner. - “Good afternoon” The hair stylist and Hongjoong looked up at the same time, meeting my eyes in the mirror in front of them, both thinking I said it specifically for them and smiled at me before they greeted me as well. I sat down in the chair next to Hongjoong, turned it to look at him and he was just about to do the same when the hairstylist grabbed the side of his head and just avoided a dangerous accident as she shaved away any last traces of the long hair in his neck. The meeting that morning had gone well, and the company wasted no time to turn the members styles around as soon as they got an ok. The other ones were already done, and all anxiously waited for Hongjoong’s big reveal in the dance practise room a few doors down. The only reason why I’d been allowed in was simply to discuss styling and hair colouring with the one that was going to do it and I was lucky to work in a company that considered my approach as well, since I was deep down in the work of creating his wardrobe. “So… I talked to my colleagues” She started and parted his hair in the middle, softly pulling on either side of his fringe, “and since the concept is leaning towards a summer vibe… we figured red would be a good look… think auburn for ‘Illusion’ and then maybe a bit darker for ‘Wave” Hongjoong looked up in surprise, his eyes met the stylist before they flicked to mine through the mirror and I nodded, a bit impressed with the outside of the box thinking. It would definitely be the biggest change within the group. “I say go for it. I think I'd look good” I said but Hongjoong wasn’t convinced. “Just good?” He asked and I rolled my eyes. “No, not just good, you’re gonna look amazing, Joongie. Trust me on this one” I said, confidence in my voice and he sighed with a nod, almost as if he trusted my judgement more than he trusted his own. “Well…” He clicked his tongue, “I’ve never had a reason to doubt you before, let’s go” - The recording of Illusion would take two days and Eunji and I, together with our colleagues helped each other to load the truck with clothes and accessories to the film set. It was an hour drive to the location, and I was anxious to start working, excited for the new step in the development of the members story. We loaded off, paused for a quick lunch, still standing, one hand holding the food while the other was busy counting and checking the items to make sure that each piece went to each member. The group themselves arrived a few minutes later and I inhaled deeply when Hongjoong came into view, the auburn hair made him look incredible and he smiled greatly when he saw me, just as I paused to stare at him in the middle of a motion. He held out his arms to give me a hug, but I interrupted with a hushed “Not here” before I grabbed my rack of clothes, feeling my heart hammer hard in my chest. He followed me without a word to a more secluded area that had been fixed so that the members could dress in peace. “Hi” He said softly and immediately closed his arms around me, like he hadn’t seen me for days. “Hi” I said back and swallowed, his new appearance made him almost seem like a different person but he still smelled and felt the same and I closed my eyes as I buried my face into the crook of his neck, still expected the long hair that now were gone, to tickle me in the face. “How do I look?” He asked, still a bit unsure of this new style of his and I let him go slightly to properly look at him. My fingers reached out to pull on the short hair in the back of his neck before they travelled down, over his neck and I felt how he gulped under my fingertips as they travelled under his chin when I turned his head from side to side, coming dangerously close to his face. I nodded, pursed my lips and gave him a satisfied smile. “Let’s just say that, if we would be dating, I’d take off your clothes for a whole other reason than forcing you to put on new ones,” I said, thinking that I was real clever but Hongjoong was better, he always was. “You’d let me take you right here against the wall?” Voice husky and a smirk on his lips and my cocky smile faltered slightly as I looked up at him again, my heart flipped from the intensity in his voice, and he backed me up with three short steps as he talked, my back hit the concrete wall behind me with a small thump. He pressed himself against me and my breath hitched, both from the sudden impact and the lethal look in his eyes as he leaned forward, close enough to brush his nose against mine. I swallowed hard, eyes closed as I collected myself for a second, forced back a groan as my stomach did somersaults, and I gulped, heart raced. in my chest. “I’ll let you take me here against the wall” I whispered back and met his eyes again. Arousal pooled between my legs as he gasped, breathlessly, surprised that I not only nibbled at the bait he laid out but swallowed it whole. He softly twirled a lock of my hair around his finger and I braced myself, fully prepared to finally feel his soft lips press against mine. But the feeling never came as he took a step back from me instead with a chuckle and I fell forward slightly, my body unconsciously chased after his. “It’s unfortunate that I made a promise a few months ago then, babe” He said, sticking out his tongue at me and I shook my head, bit my lower lip and a smile tugged on them as he teased me with words that could’ve been my own. A smile that quickly faltered when my gaze flicked down as he unzipped his jeans. He smiled dangerously and my gaze lingered on his crotch for a few seconds before they went back up to his eyes, a twinkle in them that I hated to love. He knew that he was hard and his cock, big and proudly erect, pushed against the insides of his underwear. He licked his lower lip, bit softly on it to suppress a choked gasp as he looked at me and I looked back at him. Both hearts excitedly pounding and the need for each other made us yearn, writhe as we watched each other like two carnivores ready to attack. It shouldn’t affect me as much as it did, we’d been in this situation for far too many times by now. But I couldn’t help it. Hongjoong let his jeans pool at his ankles, the belt buckle hit the floor with a soft clang, and I flinched slightly at the sound as he challenged me with his gaze. Provoked the side of me that he’d wrapped around his little finger and I tensed my jaw as I swallowed and clenched around nothing, the burning wetness between my legs made me pout. But two people could play this game and I leaned back against the wall again, one hand stroked down my body while I placed my index finger on my tongue, simulating what I’d do if it would be his cock and Hongjoong’s head tilted to one side like a confused puppy, enticed, eyebrows raised with a curious smile tugging on his lips and his gaze on me was overshadowed with lust. I reached up to grasp my left boob, kneading it hard and gasped, the feeling of his hooded eyes spurred me on as I reached down to tease my clit over my clothes. “That promise is a real pity, right?” I said, my legs rubbing against each other as I teased him and his eyelids fell, lips parted and he swallowed hard as he submitted to his lust, his own hand sneaked down to the front of his underwear and he shuddered as he closed his hand over his twitching cock, eyes rolled back, his toned stomach clenched and my breath hitched as I quickly unzipped and plunged my hand into my pants as well, my eyes closed as my fingers found my clit. Hongjoong’s hand reached over to the nape of my neck, softly pulling on my hair and I groaned at the feeling, basically melted into his touch. I opened my eyes again as his hand moved over to cup my face, lovingly, with his thumb softly stroking my cheek and I swallowed hard, my chest swelled with affection for him and I couldn’t help but look down, to where his body flushed against mine and I could feel the erratic movements of his hand against my lover stomach as it moved quickly over his length. “Fuck, baby girl, you look so beautiful like this” He whispered into my ear and I shuddered as he leaned over and pressed a light kiss underneath my earlobe, the feeling of his soft lips against my skin for the first time made me fall into a frenzy and I whined as he pushed me up harder against the wall with his body weight, “You’re soaking wet aren’t you? God, I wish I could just move those panties aside and fuck you so hard you’d be stumbling out of here” He moaned against me and my head fell into the crook of his neck as I inhaled. The smell of him filled my senses and made my blood boil as I imagined him to do all the things he wanted, “You wish you I could so as well don’t you? Wish that I’d come inside that tight, pretty cunt of yours, huh?” I nodded, my mind so deep into a cloud of wanton need that I couldn’t think of the consequences and he moved his hand from my face, his fingers graced the front of my body and my breath hitched as he barely touched the lining of my panties when a voice from one of the styling noonas echoed through the corridor. “Are you guys ready? We need Hongjoong in make-up soon” I cursed and paused my movements, took a few deep breaths and said as calmly as I could. “Give us five” The steps faltered away again and Hongjoong bit his lower lip, looked at me with longing eyes and said, “Tell me what to do” I swallowed, a bit embarrassed, took his free hand in mine and held it to my throat, my heart skipped a beat when he looked at me with big eyes as if he didn’t understood what I wanted him to do at first. I closed his fingers around my windpipe, his thumb pressed on my main artery and he bit down on his tongue, a gasp escaped his lips. I wrapped one leg over his hip, pushed him close against me and earned a sharp inhale from him as he bucked his hips forward, and my heart flipped when I felt him, hard and twitching against my heat. “Choke me” - Saipan was hot and it felt like the tropical humidity had its aim set to kill me, I was wearing a tank top and shorts and still felt how they immediately stuck to my body the minute we got out of the air-conditioned airport. We’d arrived just that morning for the recording of ‘Wave’ and even though some of the staff took the opportunity to actually enjoy the sun, I couldn’t pause for even a second. I feared that my head would fill up with thoughts I shouldn't think about, things that were so far from work appropriate as they could come and Hongjoong shedding his clothes before I got the chance to escape the hotel room didn’t make things better. He caught me before I opened the door though and his hand felt so warm and inviting around my wrist that my heart skipped a beat. “Let me go, Joong” I said, and refused to look back at him as he closed his arms around my midriff instead, his naked chest pressed onto my back. I sighed deeply, repressed the need to lean back against him and inhaled sharply as he placed a butterfly soft kiss on my naked shoulder. “Stay, just for a minute before you have to go back to work” He begged, his hot breath ghosted against the nape of my neck and I shuddered as the feeling made my skin prickle. My heart ached at the emotion behind his voice and I sighed again and surrendered to my need for him, my arm fell back to my side as he gently spun me around. I wet my lips and took in the familiar sight of his body. He’d started to work out more these days, him and San spend most evenings in the company gym for an hour or two and I was over the moon when I heard the news, mainly over the fact that the two brothers seemed to finally have found some sort of a middle ground despite their mutual attraction to me. “Have I ever told you how much I can’t stop thinking about you?” He asked, the sincerity in his voice made my stomach turn and he twirled a lock of my hair around his index finger as the other hand rested gently on my hip. I rolled my eyes, like I couldn’t believe what he was saying, but I was swooning on the inside and he knew that just as well as I did, “Have I ever told you how lucky I am” He continued, and placed both hands on my hips now, swaying us softly to the beat of the tropical music playing through the open window from a radio in one of the other rooms outside, “I mean, I could’ve gotten any of the five others that got the job when you did and yet they choose you-” “Because you stepped in to defend me” I protested but Hongjoong only shook his head, “Because your passion to get the work done was greater than being polite and sit still at a boring meeting” I looked away, pouting as a shy feeling washed over me, but I couldn’t help but smile at the words and wanted to blame the weather for the sudden heat wave that rushed over my body. Hongjoong moved his hand to clasp it with mine, the other softly grazed my lower back and he looked down on our hands, intertwined our fingers and I swallowed, “To see you nearly every day, working alongside you, to see the excitement in your eyes when we talk about the things we create… to be your friend… “ He paused, as if he wanted me to add something else to the statement but I kept it unsaid between us, “To hold your hand as we walk through these moments together… that’s why I am so incredibly lucky” Affection radiated from his eyes and I realized right then and there, as church bells on top of the mountain sounded, that I loved him. I’d known for a month or so that I was in love, never really reflected about it much, but this feeling was new, as if the butterflies in my stomach suddenly stopped and a twisting knot had replaced it. My heart didn’t just flutter when I looked at him, it hurt, but it was an agonizing pain that I couldn’t help but embrace. Like it was like my feelings for him, magnified and I almost choked on my breath when I met his brown eyes, so lost in them that I had a hard time to breathe. I remembered back, months ago when I began falling for him, charmed by his charisma, his sweet words and the way he looked at me like I was meant for him, and only him. That it would break him if I’d ever look at someone else than him, and I knew that I couldn’t as well. Too in love with the way he watched me longingly from across the room when the make-up noonas fixed him up for the stage, too attached by the way his body felt against mine when I lifted up the blanket in the dead of the night and he crawled up against my chest, threw his arm around my waist and pressed me so close against his body that I feared for his anxiety filled mind. I loved him so much my heart ached, and it felt like it broke in two and was filled with warmth at the same time. My breath hitched and he placed a hand on my cheek, and I was just about to choke forth a small stop when he smiled, “Yes… I really want to kiss you right now, but I know what you said. I will keep your promise” He leaned in and pressed the kiss that was meant for my lips next to my ear instead and I felt my heart racing, like I’d just ran a marathon.

[melyaliz]

Night Person

Fandom: Yu-Gi-OH

Summary: All the best things happened to Amie at night. 

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x OC 

Notes: Ok so @speedypan reminded me of my TOTAL and UTTER love for Yugioh. Honestly, I have both my DC fanfic revival and now Yuigoh credited to her. Just wait, soon I’ll be bringing back Avatar and Naruto soon 😂😝

Like as we speak I am working on re-editing my old series and posting it on archive but I figured I could post some of my NEW stuff here? I promise I am still working on Nancy’s second part and @werewitchling’s Charlie request :P Life has just been rough and I guess Seto calms my nerves (weird) 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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Amie was a night person. She had her best ideas late at night, her breakthrough on projects, and adventures late at night.

Honestly, she hadn’t thought too much about it but her best moments happened at night too.

-Thursday 10:32pm-

Everyone was gone. Most of the lights were off. At least they were in the rest of Kaiba Corp  As for the animation lab, everything was still bright and cheery.

WHY?

Because Amie was still hard at work and she was NOT about to be stuck in some creepy Freddy Kroger style office. If she had to stay late to cover her idiot co-workers the world around her better be bright and cheery.

A large soda at her side and music blasting in her ears while she tried to get the Dark magician’s hat just right. It just wasn’t folding the way she… wait, was that a kid?

Glancing over their screen she blinked again before rubbing her eyes. Contacts starting to dry out. Honestly, she should just go home but she was sooo close. Maybe if she just…

There it was again.

Leaning out of her chair she studied the doorway. Ok, now she was getting slightly creeped out. This was some Chucky style shit. Glancing back down at her screen she clicked save several hundred times on her project. Never can be too safe. Then glancing up, her brown eyes locking onto a pair of dark blue ones.

“Uhhh Hello child of the corn.”

“What?”

“Nothing… are your parents around”

The boy laughed shoving his hands into his pockets. “Are you new?”

“Yes… oh fuck… I mean fudge… oh, fudge. Sorry... Mokuba right?”

“That’s me.” he shrugged waving his hand at her apologetic smile, “It’s kind of late why are you still here?”

“Because of the hat from hell.”

“What?”

“Why are you?” change the subject, no point in bitching about the design issues with the big boss’s kid brother. Would he be considered the Big kid? The small boss?

“Because my brother is a work-a-holic.”

“I feel it.”

Mokuba walked over to her screen glancing over at the screen studying her work, “looks good to me.”

Amie couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah but that hat.” clicking the space bar the small magician started to move making the hat flip in rather unrealistic movements causing Mokuba laugh.

“It looks like… it looks…”

“Oh yeah, I’m very aware...”

“Well can I hang out with you while you work on it?”

“Only if you tell me about your day, I like listening to things while I work.”

“Well you’re in luck, I happen to be a GREAT storyteller.”  

-Friday 11:53pm-

It was late and Amie was just finishing up. That total complete moron Jeff had ONCE again spectacularly destroyed the files they needed to get to Seto that Monday for the pitch.

And instead of staying and cleaning up his mess the wonderful oh so hard working moron ditched saying something about “having to go.” Amie was about 90% sure he was just going to see his girlfriend and probably get an early start on his weekend.

Something Amie had hoped to do. But no, instead she was trapped cleaning up his mess working well into the evening.

“Fuck that guy,” Amie grumbled to herself as she walked down the halls holding her 4th mug of coffee hoping that would jump-start the creative process for her. Although it was really just helping her brain come up with a million ways she hoped Jeff would suffer for his idiocracy. Maybe some burning diarrhea or maybe he would get a HUGE dent his beloved car?

“What are you still doing here… wait…”

Amie winced as she paused looking up from her thoughts to see the CEO himself Seto Kaiba. The only time Seto had bothered to pay attention to Amie the intern was when her brother had faked her submission to get her in. After that, he had never sent her a second glance.

Which was good because she was too young for this position and if anyone found out she was NOT a college student she could lose this opportunity of a lifetime.

“Yes Boss Dude?” she muttered glancing up at him from under the dark black bangs of her work wig.

“Don’t I go to school with you?” Seto asked taking a step closer, his piercing blue eyes studying her. Ok, it also didn’t help that Amie found the dueling champion super hot. Like not in a “we’re soulmates” kind of way but more of a “You’re eyes make me nervous” sort of way.

“If I say yes will you fire me?”

“Humm” he studied her for a moment, “Why are you here so late?”

“Just finishing up the prototypes for the pitch on Monday.”

“And your supervisor couldn't do that?”

“He had a hot date.”

“Then no.” with that he turned and walked off.

“Wait!” a weird rush of confidence came over it. Maybe it was the 4th cup of coffee or the fact it was almost midnight and she had been listening to Paramore on repeat for 3 hours. Regardless of the reason, her command made Seto pause glancing back over his shoulder, “If you fire me then I can go home and if the images aren’t perfect it won’t be on my conscience?”

At that moment a million puppies died as hell froze over because… Seto cracked a small smirk.

“Make it perfect and I’ll promote you.”

“Deal.”

-Tuesday 9:06pm-

Tap tap tap, Amie hummed along with the Supremes as she tapped her stylist on the table waiting for the computer to render. She was oh so close to being done. A stack of science books next to her because she also had a quiz tomorrow she may or may not have studied for.

“Jeff ditch you again?” A voice broke into her song as the rude voice pulled an earbud out.

Lucky for this intrusive voice Amie had a soft spot for him.

“At this point, I would be annoyed if he didn’t,” she said spinning around in her chair which caused her headphones to unplug the song blasting across the editing bay.

“What is this?” Mokuba asked raising an eyebrow. Amie let out a gasp.

“Mokuba! Don’t tell me you have never heard the Supremes!”

“Nope. It sounds kind of… Chick”

“It’s very chick. They are in love with love, listen.” clicking on You Can’t Hurry Love she started swinging around in her chair to the music.

“I guess it’s ok…”

“Chair dance! Grab a chair”

“Ooookk” Mokuba knew better than to argue with Amie once the clock passed 8:45. That was when she had her third cup of coffee and the weird ideas started.

Three songs later Mokuba and Amie were rolling in a very impressive choreographed routine across the isles of computers screaming “I Want You Back” By the Jackson 5 at the tops of their lungs.

“Good to see there is a lot of work going on in here.”

Amie laughed turning to see Seto leaning   the door frame, “Are you the only one who ever stays late?”

“I would say yes but you are here.”

“I’m here too!” Mokuba said scooting his chair next to Amie reminding her that he was, in fact, also there.

“Yeah, but you don’t work here, just make everything better.”

Mokuba laughed flipping his thick black hair, “I do don’t I.”

“Well, It’s time to go,” Seto said nodding toward this brother. Mokuba nodded getting up pushing his chair back to its rightful desk. “And Amie.”

Dear God, he knew her name… did the world just stop spinning or was that her heart? Amie wasn’t sure if it was that annoying crush on his pretty blue eyes or the fact that he was basically her boss and had the power to ruin her animator dreams.

“Go home, the project will be there tomorrow.”

Ok, the world really had stopped, had she somehow entered some paralleled universe? Had THE Seto Kaiba just told one of his employees to STOP working? “Uhhhh, Yes sir.”

Mentally she kicked herself as she slowly rolled back to her desk feeling her cheeks heat up. Mokuba watching her as she quickly saved the project before closing down her computer. Shit girl, could you get any weirder?

-Monday 10:17pm-

Nothing had changed yet everything had changed.

Amie had quit last week. Jeff had blamed her on the whole project crumbling and when she stood there in front of a angry Seto she broke. She didn’t deserve this. She worked harder than anyone else at this fucking editing lab and had covered that dick weed’s back so many times and he just threw her to the flipping wolves.

I mean SURE Seto Kaiba’s rage was probably the most frighting thing Amie had EVER seen in her life but even facing his dragon size temper she wouldn’t have thrown a teammate under the bus like that.

She didn’t deserve this.

Which is what she told Seto.

He had stood there wide-eyed in pure shock. No one had EVER quit Kaiba corp before. With the best pay and benefits, there was a reason people put up with the companies CEO.

But not her.

She had been done.

Until the famous CEO showed up at her apartment door telling her that he needed more people like her on his team. People who cared about their craft and did this because they loved it not because of the money or prestige of it all.  

So goodbye Jeff and hello personal editing lab.

This didn’t mean she still didn’t have late night because… well, nights seemed to be her magic time.

A cup of coffee slid into her peripheral. Glancing over Amie almost had a heart attack seeing Seto standing over her desk.

“You just jumped almost a mile.”

“Well, you just scared the hell out of me.”

“Mokuba will literally rip your headphones out of your ear and you will not flinch.”

“But I’m expecting him…” Amie bit her lip trying to find the right words as she took the coffee taking a sip her dark brown eyes not leaving Setos, “What’s up?”

“Just checking in,” he said taking a chair and sitting down next to her.

Well fuck, there was NO way she could work with those blue eyes watching her. And at this close range, he smelled good too. Of course, he would smell good, he’s a rich CEO he probably bathed in Versace. She, on the other hand, probably smelled like coffee and insecurity.

They both sat in silence for a moment then Amie turned to him, “Do you want me to like explain where I am or something?”

“If you want.”

“Helpful”

“Pardon?”

Shit, did she just say that out loud? Whoooops. Maybe she could quit again?

“Uhhh I mean… well at the moment I am coming up with color pallets for each character. Like what shades we want for them so that regardless of who is animating the character they will always look the same.”

Seto nodded as he watched her click through the files copy and pasting the code into a document before going back to the Coral Dragon she had been working on adjusting the shades trying to brighten up his wings just a little bit more.

“I would add more undertones of red”

You can’t say no to the boss, so she pulled up the color wheel moving it, “Like that,”

“Just a bit more… yeah there.”

“Ohhh I like that. Guess you’re the boss for a reason.” Amie could feel his eyes on her but for the first time, she didn’t feel so tense like maybe they had just had a breakthrough. Bonded? Maybe just a little.

Mokuba found his brother and Amie a few hours later still in Amie’s new office going over characters. Seto pointing out changes and Amie suggesting ways to make it work. Both of them seemed to relax and just working in harmony that Mokuba didn’t want to bother them.

It was nice to see his brother actually enjoying himself.

-Friday 11:11pm-

“No stop touching!” Amie snapped swatting away Seto’s hand as he tried to direct her on the computer. It was already very late and everyone else had left for the day but Amie had stayed trying to fix the editing issues they kept running into. Her pink hair pulled up in a messy bun several pencils lost inside the mess. Must like her mood at the moment.

“You are doing it wrong”

“No, you are just messing me up being this close”

“I don’t see how me being close would mess you up, just do your job.”

“It’s the blue eyes.”

“What?”

“They need to be at least 5 feet away from me,” Amie said turning to look at her boss who was only a few inches from her looking over her shoulder trying to direct her work on the new dueling virtual game. This seemed to be happening a lot more. Seto popping in and not leaving. Normally Amie didn’t hate it but today… today something was just bothering her about how close the CEO was to her.

Seto turned slightly as if he finally realized how close he was to her. Something she had been feeling all night.

“Then again they are pretty nice this close up.” Amie snickered coffee brain kicking in. Words she was thinking seeming like a good idea said aloud.

“Are… you flirting with me right now?”

“Wait you haven't been?” Amie laughed deciding to call him out, “You had your arm on my shoulder for like 20 minutes telling me how to do my job while we worked on the graphic for the points counter.”

This caused Seto to pull away. Amie felt her stomach clunch. Shit, shit she had just made things super awkward. Deciding to just play it cool she turned back to her screen, pushed some loose strands of her hair away from her face.

She continued her work trying to ignore the mess of butterflies in her stomach until they all lept and died at the feeling of a hand on hers. She turned, confused about to ask what Seto was doing only to have him kiss her.

Soft and sweet. A little clumsy as if he really didn’t know what he was doing but he was confident in it. She found it funny how confident he was really. It was one of the things she liked about him. How confident he was. That and how dorky he was. Her confident dork.

Leaning forward she kissed him back trying to fight back the smile that was on her lips.

They were never going to get this project done in time.

Yep, Amie was a night person. How could she not be when all the best things happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Who Wants to be tagged?~

[thesirenserenity]

I Like It

Fandom: Voltron

Pairing: Klance!

Summary: Keith is stuck at the ballroom dance social at Shiro's studio. Lance, a dance teacher there, is determined to get him on the dance floor. Keith, who is a hip-hop teacher and competition dancer, rises to the challenge and shows off for Lance. Awkward confessions and sudden kisses follow! A fluffy one-shot dance au, featuring Keith shaking his ass, a flustered Lance, mutual pining, and flirting.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kimchee2222​!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you love your present!! It was so fun to write dancing again! Thank you for making the request and causing plot bunnies to flow. 

A huge thank you to @thisismyfangirlface​ for Beta-ing for me! You always catch my awkward things and fix them!!

Check it out on ao3. Dance video links at the end. 

Keith glared at his book, his hair flopping down into his face with his huff. Though, to be fair, it wasn’t the book’s fault that he was stuck at Shiro’s ballroom dance studio, surrounded by tons of flamboyantly loud people and the overwhelmingly loud music that switched between genres. It honestly gave him whiplash to have his foot tapping to Latin music, then to a pop song, then to a soft waltz, then to swing music. He sunk further into the couch, wishing he wore his maroon hoodie so he could flip his hood up and nope away from all of this. But alas, he was still in his dance class attire: ripped black, stretchy skinny jeans, his worn black high tops, a black v-neck, and a red-checkered flannel. He was horribly out-dressed by all the instructors and students in dress pants or flowy skirts. He didn’t understand how people could dance in nice clothes, but he was just glad he didn’t wear sweatpants or anything embarrassing like that.

Because Keith’s bike was in the shop, Shiro had offered him a ride home from his Urban dance studio down the road. But the ride home had come with a stop at Altea Ballroom Dance Studio, where Shiro worked that evening, and now he was stuck here until Shiro was done.

From what he understood, Shiro had a lesson and then there was a dance social? He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a feeling it was along the lines of a ‘lots of people get together and ballroom dance’ type of thing. Shiro had also said that there would be food, and from the fragrant smells in the air, it was Mexican food. Maybe the theme was Latin night?

He tried to get sucked back into his book, but the loud noises of people filing into the studio was very distracting. He wanted to smack himself for forgetting his headphones on the kitchen counter, but honestly, the music probably would have been too loud for the little headphones to drown out. Note to Keith: buy better headphones when his first paycheck on his new raise comes in.

“Keith!”

His head snapped up as a small figure came barreling at him and rammed into him, making him lose his balance and topple over sideways on the couch.

He yelped in surprise and looked down to see his arms full of his little gremlin of a best friend. “Hello Pidgey,” he sighed.

Pidge pulled back from the tackle hug and grinned up at him. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight! Did Shiro finally convince you to come to a Social?”

Keith raised a snarky eyebrow, “Do you really think I would willingly come to anything dubbed ‘social?’”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “Yea, yea, you antisocial little fuck. Then how did he manage to drag you here?”

“Necessity. My class got out right before this and my bike is still in the shop, so Shiro picked me up.”

“Aww, big bro loves you!”

“Shut up, small bean,” Keith sassed, mimicking Matt’s nickname for Pidge.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t tease me,” he smirked.

“Fair.”

She stood up from their awkward tangle on the couch and Keith got a good look at her. He let out a low whistle, “Damn, Pidge, you clean up nice.”

Pidge nervously brushed the wrinkles from her olive green jumpsuit. The fabric hugged her legs down to her black keds, and the collared top was sleeveless. It was a far cry different from her usual cargo shorts and oversized sweatshirt.

“Thanks, you don’t think it’s too much?”

He shook his head and grinned, “It looks good! A lot better for you than Allura’s swishy dresses.”

She huffed, “Allura did manage to get some mascara on me, though.”

Keith chuckled, imagining Shiro’s girlfriend, and the co-owner of the studio, pinning down a squirming Pidge to get mascara on her. “I would have killed to see that.”

She turned her head to the side, mumbling, “Matt was dying of laughter.”

He laughed harder at that, “Damn, I bet. Though, honestly, I didn’t notice a difference. You just look like you actually slept last night.”

“Thank god,” Pidge grinned. “I thought I looked weird.”

“I mean,” Keith smirked, “you actually sleeping is weird.”

Pidge flipped him off, “For that, you have to save a dance for me tonight.” She turned, leaving before he could protest.

He still yelled after her retreating back, “Nope! Not dancing tonight!”

She ignored him, walking through the open door that lead to the giant dance floor. Looking through the glass walls, he saw that the floor was filling and the social was now in full swing.

He sighed in defeat and pulled his book back up to his face.

Pidge’s brother and Shiro’s best friend, Matt, did the bookkeeping for Altea Ballroom Dance Studio, and so Pidge got discounts on lessons. While it was a far different hobby from her robotics and computer programing (read: hacking), Keith still knew that Pidge loved the thrill of dancing. She occasionally did some hip-hop classes with him, but she loved how fast ballroom dancing allowed her to switch between genres. It kept her active mind engaged and she memorized the dance sequences as fast as she did binary code.

“Keith!” a familiar voice shouted, snapping his attention from his book once again.

He grinned at the familiar man coming towards him and stood, extending his hand. “Hi Hunk- oof!” Hunk snatched the outstretched hand and had surprised him with one-armed hug.

They pulled back and Keith couldn’t help but smile. Hunk’s cheerfulness was contagious, even if Keith had only hung out with him a few times. He was a friend of Pidge’s from her university and best friends with one of the instructors here.

“Hi man! I haven’t seen you since Shiro’s birthday get-together! How are you?”

Keith rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Pidge had invited him to hang out with their crew a few times, but Keith had been busy recently with the new classes he was teaching and choreographing for. “I’ve been good, just busy. I got a bit of a promotion at work.”

Hunk clapped him on the back, “Congrats man! That’s such good news! Are you going to dance tonight? I know it’s not much of your style, but tonight is Latin night, which is always fun!”

Keith shrugged, “I mean, it wasn’t my intention and I’m kinda just waiting for Shiro to be done because my bikes in the shop. But Pidge seemed pretty insistent that I dance with her at some point.”

“You so should! I’m sure she would love that. I’ve got to go find Lance, but we should hang out more! We always have a blast with you! Pidge loves having her crew together, and Lance always has fun. Mario Kart last time was a riot!”

Keith recalled the party at their house, where the four of the ‘kids,’ as Matt called Pidge’s trio and Keith, had played Mario Kart for ages. And how he and Lance had almost ended up brawling on the floor over a silly competition.

“Yea, it was… fun. We should do it again soon.”

Hunk turned, waving, and Keith flopped back down on the couch, picking his book up for the upteenth time. Good lord, he just wanted to read and avoid ballroom dancing as much as possible.

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently so, because he hadn’t even finished the page before matte black dance shoes, like the sixteen pairs Shiro has lying around the house, appeared in his view.

Keith sighed and followed the long legs up to a smirking face with gorgeous blue eyes. Not that Keith would ever admit that out loud.

He raised an eyebrow at the dance instructor, “Hello Lance.”

Lance grinned and popped out a hip, placing his hand on it. “Hello, Mullet. I didn’t think you were coming to say hi to me.”

Keith lifted up his book a little and plopped it back down in his lap. “I’m just reading here.”

“Nope!” Lance said, grabbing onto Keith’s wrist and yanking him to his feet. Keith stumbled, trying not to smack into the taller man and snatched his wrist away. Which Lance just grabbed onto again. “Shiro has been trying to get you to come to one of these for months, man. You can’t just sit there and read!”

Keith just rolled his eyes, “I’m only here because my bike is in the shop, like I told Hunk, who probably told you I was out here.”

“That he did, Mullet! And I say that you can’t just sit in a corner all night at a dance social!”

“I don’t know how to ballroom dance, nor do I intend to socialize,” Keith deadpanned.

“You’ve said hi to people, which is socializing, and I’ll teach you how to ballroom dance. It’s kinda my job.”

Keith pulled on his kidnapped wrist, “I really don’t need to learn and don’t want to be the new person on the dance floor.”

Lance didn’t let go of his wrist, “You aren’t the only new person!”

“But…”

Lance cut him off, leaning into his space, his eyes glinting with a challenge. “You scared, Keithy-boy?”

Fire rose in Keith, the familiar determination from when he hit the stage or stood in front of his class. “I’m never scared.”

“Then let’s go!” Lance surprised him by yanking him toward the door, his book forgotten on the couch.

Keith didn’t have a chance to pull back or adjust before he was swept onto the side of the dance floor, Lance spinning him around and catching him. He did everything not to stumble and looked up to see Lance’s smirking gaze inches from him, his hands burning on Keith’s back.

“Come on, pretty boy, I’ll teach you.”

Keith blinked in shock, flustered at the nickname and the close proximity. He could feel the flush creeping over his face, grateful for the dark room and flashing lights.

Lance didn’t pull away, but rather grabbed both Keith’s hands in his and pushed toward him. “Follow my feet.”

Keith looked down, recognizing the step as a Salsa, from his years of watching Shiro. While he knew what to do, he had never necessarily tried it with someone before. Though he may have been guilty of throwing similar footwork into some of his choreography.

Lance was counting for him, their linked hands still flowing with the rhythm. “Good, you picked that up fast. Feel the beat and don’t be afraid to put some hip into it.”

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s rotating hips and the room got hotter.

“It makes it easier for you to flow with the rhythm,” and Lance’s hands were on his hips, guiding them how to move.

His breath hitched in his throat. Lance was pulling him closer and he couldn’t handle it.

 Sure, Lance was attractive and charming, but Keith didn’t usually go for the loud and flirty type. When they first met, Lance had worked really hard to make Keith feel welcome in their group by egging him on into competitions and flirting with him, and Keith couldn’t help but notice his smooth, tanned skin, mile-long legs, and teasing grin. He still can’t help but notice.

 So yeah, Keith didn’t usually go for the loud flirty type, but with Lance crooning instructions next to his ear, his hands burning into Keith’s hips, his gay ass couldn’t help but sit up and stand at attention.

 A drawn out “gaaaaayyyyyy,” ripped Keith from his reverie and his head snapped towards Pidge, who was spinning by with Shiro.

“Shut up, gremlin,” he snapped back.

Lance chuckled, “Don’t worry about her, she is really happy you’re here.”

Keith was really blushing now and flopped his head forward onto Lance’s shoulder. “I know snark is her love language and all, but still.”

He could feel Lance’s body shaking as he laughed. “Come on, Mullet. Stop hiding in my shoulder and let me teach you how to dance, so you can shut her up with how amazing you are.”

Keith pulled back an eyebrow raised, his embarrassment fading with the challenge. “You do know that I dance, right?”

Lance pushed Keith back into the simple salsa step and guided him into a spin. Keith flowed with it and met Lance’s competitive glance when he pulled their bodies close and folded an arm around his back. Keith got caught up in the ballroom hold, his hand tightening around Lance’s fingers.

“Well, pretty boy, so I’ve been told. Though, for someone supposedly so good at dancing, you sure seem reluctant to get on the dance floor. So naturally,” a smirk graced his lips and he leaned his face towards Keith’s, “I’ve come to question your supposed dancing skills.”

Keith’s eyes squinted and he met Lance’s swinging hips with his own, noting a hitch in the man’s breath with satisfaction. “You should know enough about me to know that I rise to any challenge,” the innuendo heavy in his voice. A smirk spread across his lips when Lance’s eyes widened.

He really listened to the music then, his senses taking in the beat. Even though it wasn’t his typical genre, these fun pop-ish Latin tunes followed the same predictable form. The familiar bubble of determination and impulsivity that had given him the courage to throw himself on stage was rising in him. His senses tuned in, his natural musicality kicking in. He could turn any song into a dance, easily.

“Then let’s see it, Keithy-boy.”

Keith smirked, ready for the challenge and took a couple steps back. He tuned into bouncy Latin beat, taking a second to feel the rhythm coursing through his veins and caught the tag of the song.

 The bass dropped out just as he started moving, the solo counter melody playing under the Spanish lyrics. He latched onto the repeating rhythm, feeling the slow-quick-quick.

 Y dónde está mi gente?

 Keith took a step towards Lance and out, scooping his arms and pushing them to his left with a slide, popping his fingers down and up on the quick beats. Then he pushed back on the next beat, waving his arms and scooping his right foot, the flow contrasting his previous snappy beats.

 (Mais il faut bouger la tête)

 Planting again, he scooped his arms up and over and then brought them together on his right hip. He popped his elbow up, keeping his arms at an angle, and ran a wave along them. His lower body followed the wave, his right foot popping on the beat.

 Y dónde está mi gente?

 Snapping his head to look to the left, he pushed his right hand through his left, and rolled his hands down, leaning with it. He popped up on the next beat, looking up to see if Lance was still watching. He grinned when he saw the man’s shocked eyes were on him and continued.

 Say yeah, yeah, yeah

 He pushed down and pulled back on his next step forward, his left foot popping up behind him. Then he stepped back, his weight falling on the left foot, and jumped back twice.

 1, 2, 3, leggo'

 He scooped his right leg on the first beat, planting his foot on the ground. On the second beat he posed, pointing and shifting right. On the third beat, he pushed forward, pointing at Lance, a smirk and challenge on his face. Then he prepped on his left foot and kicked his right leg up. Landing on it, he body rolled through popping his hips back with a sexy snap and noting a shift in Lance’s expression. A good shift.  

 The bass kicked in as he shifted away. He caught the drum hits in the music, pointing with each hand, and then hit the two triangle dings with his right. He stepped forward and back, his body rolling and hip popping with each step, matching the Latin flair in the music. He pressed his right foot out on the next beat, his hands crossing down, and popped back immediately after, his arms up and feet together. Then, he pushed down, his body collapsing, and popped back up, his legs apart and arms ready. He caught the groves in the music, hips rolling to the right as he leaned, exaggerating the movement for his audience.

 On the next beat, he snapped back to the left, transferring his weight and pushing his arms out. His right foot stepped forward, his left stepping behind, his hands snatching up the bottom of his shirt, flicking it up to expose a strip of skin and back down with his head movement on each step. Catching the next groove, he poured a hip pop into his leg twist, bringing his hands up his body as he repeated it. Then, he jumped onto his right foot, his left popping up and arms passing a wave down to his fingers. He repeated on the other side, and then did it a third time, hitting a hitch half way through, and finished with a fast headshake. Then, he threw his arms in, releasing and stepping on his left foot.

 Recalling some of the fast Latin footwork he had seen Shiro do before and aiming to impress the dance teacher watching, he crossed his feet, twisting on his right heel and releasing his left foot out, his hands pulling across his body, like a samba. His left foot swung forward and crossed over his right leg, his right hand mimicking pulling it up. Then he stepped forward, his right foot sliding up under his left foot in a small kick, and then he pushed back, his arms thrown up in the air. He looked up at Lance for a moment, giving him an “I told you so” look and was rewarded with wide eyes and a visible blush.

 He flowed backwards, planted to the side, and then contracted his abs, crossing his arms in front of his body and releasing. His arms flowed down as he bodyrolled, keeping sultry eye contact with the boy who challenged him, taking two small steps forward. Jumping his feet out, he popped right, then left, pulled it back in a small body roll, and then threw his arms over his shoulder.

 Keith stepped on his left foot, then his right, his hand pulling along with him, and then sent an isolated body wave up through his body from his feet, his hands mimicking and stopping in front of his chest. Following the drum beats in the music, he quickly placed his right hand on his right shoulder, then his left on his left, used his right hand to grab his chin, tilt his head, shift his upper body to the right, grab in the air, and then drop into his legs on the last beat.

 He froze as the words kicked back in, hearing some cheering at him and looked up, seeing that he had gathered a bit of a crowd. Sending a smirking glance at Lance, he stepped and wiggled his hips to each side and then double to the left. Pivoting forward onto his right foot, he swung his arms forward and then twisted the momentum back and repeated on the other side, his body rolling with the motion, a move he stole from Allura’s zumba. On each of the next drum beats, he hit a harsh pose, his body flowing and freezing with the music.

 On the last one, he threw his body out, rolling through each limb. The next beat had him collapsing on himself, his right arm in a fist to the ground, his left crossed over, and head down. He froze for a second, and then rolled his head up, holding eye contact with Lance. Following the movement up, he stepped on each foot, mimicking the hip swing of Latin steps, and then pushed his left foot backwards, leaning forward on his right and extending his arms slowly in a wave.

 He snapped it in, kicking his feet out quickly on each “yeah.” Getting to the end of a phrase, he jumped on each number in the music, pumping his arms, and then ended with a sharp spin.

 The music continued to pound around him and he swept his arms into a bow, grinning up at the crowd of people encircling him. He could see the shocked look on Lance’s face and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. Keith felt pride that he could pull that flustered, blushy expression out of a hot man. Especially a hot man who danced and knew all the nuances of the Latin music that Keith had turned into his own bastardized version of hip-hop. He took a step toward Lance, ready to tease him.

 Then, the music cut off and a very familiar melody started to play.

 Yeah baby, I like it like that,

 “Come on Keith,” Shiro’s voice yelled across the room, “stop freestyling and show them what you really can do!”

 Keith threw his head back and laughed. Of course Shiro would put on the song that he had most recently choreographed.

 You gotta believe me when I tell you, I said I like it like that

 Well, it did show off his dancing and it had a Latin flair. Keith grinned at Lance, raising an eyebrow in his direction. He figured that the man could handle some more teasing and was determined to impress.

 His hips started moving with the beat, his eyes falling closed as he prepped himself to show off.

 You gotta believe me when I tell you, I said I like it like

 Now I like dollars, I like diamonds,  I like stunting, I like shining

 He started slowly, taking a step toward Lance on each beat, his hips rolling with the movement. His right fingers rubbed together, mimicking money on “dollars,” and continued upwards, a sultry look on his face. On the next two steps, he continued the walk forward, changing his sultry hip rolls to isolated pops, his arm flowing back down over his body.

 I like million dollar deals, where's my pen? Bitch I'm signin'

 The walk flowed into a jump, his right leg kicking and body popping, smacking at his left hand twice. His legs jumped out, planting, and he threw his weight to the right, hitting the mark. Then his right hand swooped out and he popped his upper body to the left, flowing it into two steps that way, his right hand in front of him and allowed his body to roll, his eyes on the man in front of him.  

 I like those Balenciagas, the ones that look like socks

 On the beat of the words, he pumped his arms by his hips, and then flowed into a slow body roll, his right leg flowing out with his right arm. The next hard beat had him pushing his ass the opposite direction, his body snapping together to follow it, and then popped his knees out on the following drum hits. His left leg kicked up on “socks” and he froze, motioning toward his feet and flicking his hands twice.

 I like going to the jeweler, I put rocks all in my watch

 Setting his foot down on the next beat, he body rolled up from his foot twice, his arms flowing up his body. He stepped out of it with his right foot, popped his knee out, pushed his arms the opposite way, and then stepped his left foot back, his right coming to cross over it, his hands flowing in front of his body to gesture to his wrist.

 I like texts from my exes when they want a second chance

 He hit the beat by bringing his arms toward his hip pop and began to step back on each beat, his arms hitting behind him and crossing in front of him. Following the rhythm, he stepped to the side and threw his arms out and back in quickly. Rolling down next, he stepped his foot out into a brief squat and shaking his hips to each side.

 I like proving niggas wrong, I do what they say I can't

 Then he went sexy, straightening up and swinging his hips to each side, his hands caressing down his chest and gaze directly at Lance. Keith grinned when Lance visibly swallowed. He spun backwards, breaking the eye contact, and then threw his arms up, hitting the beat by crossing them over his chest, stepping forward and leaning down.

 They call me Cardi Bardi, banging body

 He straightened up and punched toward his left hip, popping it on the beat, and followed that with a hip thrust. Swooping his left arm up, he leaned back on his left leg and clapped his hands together, twisting his hips.

 Spicy mami, hot tamale

 Following gravity, his right leg hit the floor, hips still twisting, and pumped his arm to the right twice. Stepping out of it to his right, he pulled his body up and gave a cute shake of his ass with tiny valley girl arms and a large grin.

 Hotter than a Somali, fur coat, Ferrari

 He then took four stiff steps forward, his right arm following the movement, and planted, hips thrusting upward twice to meet his hands. Stepping in, he snaked his arms together and turned to face the left, his arm swooping with the motion.

 Hop out the stu', jump in the coupe (the coupe), they trippin' on top of the roof

 Following the smooth motion, he stepped backwards once and then faced Lance again, his arms circling with his knees. He jumped and crossed his legs and unwound backwards, and then countered back the same way, his arms following the flowing movements. His feet came together as he planted, facing left again.

 Flexing on bitches as hard as I can, eating halal, driving the Lam'

 He then stepped out, his right arm coming up high to meet his left, and then flowing down his body, which rolled with the motion twice. He stepped together again and mimicked eating, and then stepped across, bobbing with his right arm out, pretending to drive.

 Told that bitch I'm sorry though, 'bout my coins like Mario (Mario)

 He continued the walk to the right and grooving with the beat, throwing his hand down and twisting on “though.” He continued to walk backwards, and then swooped his right leg back and turned, jumping.

 Yeah they call me Cardi B, I run this shit like cardio

 Taking quick steps forward, he swooped his arms forward together, and then did quick footwork, his chest popping out with his hands. Crossing his right foot over his left, he turned quickly, and then mimicked a slow run on “cardio,” his body rolling with each step.

 Oh, damn, Diamond district in the jag (I said I like it like that)

 As the bass dropped, his left leg stepped forward twice, his hips hitting each beat and arms popping. He slid around to face the other way, and then threw in a Cha-cha step, his hips snapping in the right way and arms following the familiar movement he observed from Shiro. He heard Lance’s squeak over the music and knew that he had done this successfully and impressed, and maybe even turned on, someone who did these steps for a living.

 Certified, know I'm gang, gang, gang, gang (I said I like it like–)

 He repeated this idea, stepping forward with his right foot twice, and then hit each “gang” with an isolated chest pop.

 Drop the top and blow the brains (I said I like it like that)

 He stepped through this movement, dragging his foot behind him and dramatically throwing his head back, hitting the last pop of his choreographed content. The crowd’s cheering drew him out of his solo dance for Lance, causing him to realize that the whole studio was watching him.

 He allowed his body to flow into his traditional ‘show-off’ tricks. Body-rolling back, he dipped low and placed his hand on the floor. His abs tightened, pulling his legs over his head and balanced in the one-handed handstand. He shifted his weight, legs separating and spinning his body around. His other hand came down to the floor, catching the spin and bringing it down to the traditional breakdance spin.

He could hear the cheers filling the studio at his fancy move. It egged him on, preening under the crowd’s attention and his desire to impress. If he was going to put himself out there, then he damn well better deliver!

He broke the spin, placing a foot on the floor and kicking back up into a handstand and allowing his body to arch over his hands slowly. He took a quick glance at the space he had in front of him, making eye contact with a visibly shocked Lance. A grin spread over his face and he plotted his next move in that split second. Pushing off the floor, he let his feet it the floor and took two steps back, planted, and switched his momentum. He jumped forward into a front handspring, hit the ground, and continued into a front flip. Time seemed to slow down as he flew through the air.

Then his feet hit the ground and he drew up to his full height, about two feet from Lance, a large grin on his face.

The whole studio erupted into cheers, drowning out the rest of the music. Keith held eye contact with Lance, smirking at the amazement on his face.

Then Pidge tackled him, and he stumbled to catch her and not fall on his ass. “That was amazing, Keith! Was that your new choreo for the advanced class you are teaching?”

“Teaching?!” Lance squeaked.

“You have to teach it to me! Plus, you need to brush me up on breakdancing tricks, it’s been so long!” Pidge continued.

Hunk barreled into them, lifting both him and Pidge into a hug. “That was so great Keith! You’re such a good dancer!”

Keith awkwardly patted his arm, trying to breathe. “Thanks man, glad you enjoyed it.”

Pidge’s muffled voice emerged from the middle. “Can’t breathe, Hunk!”

“Ope, sorry Pidge!” and both of them were back on the ground.

Keith glanced at Lance, who was still frozen in shock, before Allura was squeezing him into a hug. “It was so lovely to see you dance again, Keith! You really have improved since the last competition I went to watch with Shiro, and your choreography was amazing!”

“Competition?!” Lance squeaked again.

Shiro reached over his girlfriend and ruffled Keith’s already messy hair. “Fantastic job, Keith!”

He smiled up at his brother, “Thanks guys, glad you enjoyed it.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lance finally unfroze and barreled into the group. “Hold the phone. You compete? Teach? What studio?”

Shiro answered before Keith could. “He has been competing with the Blade of Marmora for a couple years, as well as teaching beginning and intermediate classes. He just got promoted to teaching their advanced classes last week.”

“The Blade of Marmora? Aren’t they the like the top Urban dance group in the state?” Lance asked, his voice rising.

Keith shrugged, “I mean, we’ve won our past few competitions, so I guess?”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

Keith tried to hide his smirk at how flustered Lance was. The rest of the group began to trickle away as a new song came on.

But Keith just took a step toward Lance, getting into his space again. “I told you I can dance.”

Lance waved a hand at him and sputtered. Keith internally chuckled; he liked that he could make a cute boy flustered.

A very cute, nice boy, who had purposefully egged him on to get him on the dance floor and loosen up. A very sweet boy, who was best friends with all his friends, who Shiro and Allura loved. A sexy, Cuban boy, who could move his hips like no other and had no hesitation to get close to him.

Keith smiled softly and held a hand out to Lance. “Teach me more ballroom?”

This seemed to help Lance snap back into his confident air, as he grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him in close. They fell into an easy salsa step, getting wrapped up into the music.

Just when Lance seemed to be comfortable enough, Keith internally smirked and leaned in to his ear. “So, I take it you liked my dancing, then?”

Lance groaned and flopped his head onto Keith’s shoulder. “I’m not even going to pretend that I didn’t think that was the hottest thing ever. I was not expecting you to be literally the best hip-hop dancer I’ve ever seen.”

Keith laughed out loud and took his hand from Lance’s shoulder to set it on his hair comfortingly. “Good to know that you find my dancing hot.”

Lance’s head jerked up and he glared down at Keith. “Don’t you tease me, I just bared my soul to you!”

Keith grinned up at him, letting their next step move him closer to lance. He slotted their bodies together, just as Lance did earlier. “I’m not teasing,” Keith said genuinely. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one who feels the chemistry here.”

“Oh god,” Lance stammered. “Do you always go straight for the jugular? Is this what dating you will be like?”

“Dating?!” It was Keith’s turn to be surprised and flustered.

Lance pulled away, keeping a firm grip on his hand, and dragged him out of the studio and out the back door into the clear night air.

He dropped Keith’s hand and looked up at the sky, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt out that. My mouth runs without thinking sometimes.”

Keith took a deep breath and stepped in front of him. “Dating?” He repeated, quieter.

“I…” Lance took a deep breath and squinted his eyes shut. “I think you’re super attractive and funny and like spending time with you and was thinking about asking you out,” he blurted out.

Keith’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Lance.

“I mean, I know we’ve only hung out a couple times,” he continued, rambling, “but I really like you?” Lance’s blue eyes turned down to him, a hesitant smile on his face.

Keith was blown away by how genuine Lance’s expression was. He was putting himself completely out there, baring his soul to him under the twinkling stars.

“Keith? Buddy?” Lance’s face grew worried. “A response would be nice, ya know, even if it is a re- oomf!”

Keith snatched the front of his shirt and crashed their lips together. He felt Lance freeze in shock, and then melt, his hands coming up to tangle into his hair and slot their lips together better. Keith’s grip relaxed and rested on Lance’s chest, his other hand coming up to encase his cheek.

They pulled apart after a moment and Keith wound an arm around Lance’s waist, his thumb brushing against his cheek. “Does that answer your question?” He asked, tenderly, smiling up at him.

Lance leaned forward and brushed their noses together, a sparkle in his eyes. “Holy shit, yes.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against Keith’s, “I was not expecting that response.”

Keith chuckled softly, his breath still mingling with Lance’s. “What were you expecting, then?”

“I don’t know, I was kind of bracing for a rejection. You’re like super hot and I know I’m annoying.”

Keith ran his hand into Lance’s hair, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “Oh, you’re a total asshole. But If we are dating, then you’re my asshole and I am one-hundred percent down for being annoyed by you every day.”

Lance’s grin was almost blinding, his eyes dancing brightly. “Can I get a repeat of your answer again?”

Keith laughed and leaned in, pulling Lance down to press his lips against his in a chaste kiss. “Of course, dork, you don’t need to ask.”

Lance wound an arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him against his body. “Good, because I am going to romance the shit outta you!”

Keith found that it was hard to kiss when you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mi Gente - J Balvin - Matt Steffiania Choreo

I Like It - Cardi B - Kyle Hanagami Choreo

[jizemderler]

You could shut up, Mr.Stark. -Peter Parker

A/N: Daaaang son I had so much fun writing this that I didn’t even look at the word count. AndI got several characters in this one. I’ll be updating a request soon. Enjoy!

You were both sitting at the table having lunch. Peter was right next to you, his hand on your thigh. Mj and Ned were in front of you having a heated discussion about something you couldn’t quite follow. “You’re so quiet.”,Peter interrupted your thoughts and you looked up to him. He was slightly smiling and leaned in to give you a peck on your lips. “Am I?”,you said and pushed your shoulders back to seem more present. “Everything alright?”,he asked again but before he could answer MJ interrupted you two.

“Y/N tell him that Cap is still one of the best. Even if he is on the other team. I mean he looks hot that’s a bonus.”, she said and they both looked at you.

“Why are there teams in the first place?”,you said and were annoyed by the fact that you let out the thought that was troubling you. “That - was not an answer to my question?”,she said in response and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah he is a good hero. He fights for his values which is to save anyone he can. And he is good looking.”, you said and she looked over to Ned and raised her brows triumphantly. You pushed your tablet away and sighed. You put your elbows on the table and your face into your palms.

“Hey. Is there anything you want to talk about?”, Peter asked finally and you sighed again. “I just can’t wrap my head around this.”,you said and let your fingers slide into your hair. “Around what?”, he asked and pulled his hand away. You sat back up and let your hands fall into your lap and looked him into his eyes. A beautiful dark brown, kind like his soul. His hair, consisting of brown locks. A streak always escaping the bunch on his head and falling into his beautiful face.

“You got hurt last time. And it bothers me that it didn’t happen while fighting against the bad guys to save someone. It just happened because two people have different opinions on how to be a hero.”, you finally told him and now it was his time to sigh. “We talked about this and I explained to you that…”,he started but you interrupten him. “I know!”,you sighed and stuck your hair behind your ear. “But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it. It seems like you don’t belong in their fight. You’re a senior now. A teenager about to graduate highschool. What if something happens on another fight? What if you get hurt really bad?”, you said and pulled away from him  unconsciously.

“Hey come on.”, he said panick rising in his eyes and took your hand into his. “I’ll heal. Even if I get hurt. I’ll survive. My body works different now.”, he said and gave you a shaky smile. “You’re not immortal, Peter.”, you said and pulled your hand back and picked up your backpack. “I’ll see you guys in class. I’ve got this thing…to do.”,you apologized and got up from your seat. “Y/N?”, Peter said but you ignored that. You gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “I need some time alone.”,you whispered only for him to hear before you left the cafeteria.

***

You were walking on the streets with your headphones plugged in blasting music. Your hands were in your pockets and you were silently humming the tune when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. “Hey!”,said the voice behind you and you knew who it was immediatly even though it was a little muffled. You looked over your shoulder while pulling one earphone out and sighed immediatly seeing a red and blue suit. “Really Peter?”,you sighed and he shushed you right away. “Shush. You can’t say that.”,he said while walking along with you and you rolled your eyes. “But I can go on a walk with Spiderman. The one and only.”, you said sarcastically and looked at him. His mask always irritated you. There was no melty brown to look at, only white. “The friendly neighbourhood Spiderman on a walk with a passant. It sounds good to me.”,he joked but you shook your head. “A passant? That’s what I am now?”,you said and he was about to protest when he got interrupted. “Hey! Spiderman! Can you really do a flip?”, some guy yelled from the other side of the street and a few other people started to cheer. You knew he wouldn’t decline because Peter was a kind soul. You kept walking while he entertaint the crowd because you didn’t want to slip into the attention. There would be videos taken for sure. It’s the 21st century.

He catched up to you in seconds and took your hand. “I really want to talk to you, Y/N. I don’t want this to come between us. You are really important to me. You need to know that.”,he said and you turned into a narrow alley to have more privacy. You leaned against the wall an took a deep breath while he stood in front of you. “I know that Peter. I care for you too but what you do right now just seems wrong to me. Very wrong. Do you even know the whole story?”,you asked and looked everywhere but his face. “Of course. Mr.Stark told me.”,he insisted and you sighed. “That’s one side. There are always two sides to a story Peter. Keep that in mind.”,you said and whished that he could take off his mask so you could look into his eyes to convince him. To read his emotions.

He opened his mouth to say something when his phone rang. He closed his mouth again and took his phone out of his pocket. “Hello? Yes. Now?…No, of course not. No, yeah sure. I’ll be there in five.”,he said totally startled and hung up. He looked at you after hanging up and you could see his apologetic look on his face even through the mask. “I have to go. I’m so sorry.”,he said and pulled his mask up to his nose and laid his palm against your cheek. He placed his lips on yours and gave you a sincere kiss before pulling apart. “But..”,you started but he cut you off. “I really need to go. Mr.Stark said it was urgent.”, he explained and shot his web at the roof of the building and held on to it ready to swing. “Yeah. Mr.Stark.”,you hissed under your breath and turned away from him. “Y/N please…”

“Just go Spiderman. Be the hero you chose to be.”,you said and plugged your headphones back in and walked out of the narrow alley on to the mainstreet without waiting for him to swing off. You walked towards your destination which was your home and soon enough you saw Spiderman swing above you to his own destination.

***

Peter didn’t show up for three days. No calls, no messages, nothing. You were really worried about him so you jumped over your own shadow and called him. When he didn’t pick up you left voice messages telling him that you were really worried. You even went to the stark tower but there was no one to be found. It was sunday night. You were sitting on your bed scrolling through the internet trying to find any headlines about the superheros. But all you could find was a pic from you and Peter as Spiderman in the alley kissing. You groaned and opened the article. “Spiderman has found Spiderwoman?”, read the headline and you rolled your eyes. “Dammit.”,you cursed under your breath finding more articles about you two. This was one of the things Tony helped to take down before anyone could really get a hint of it. But you couldn’t reach him either. Dead ends everywhere. You shut down your computer and placed it on the floor. You groaned again and put your face into your palms trying to think of a solution.

Right about then you heared a knock on your window and jumped up. Your heart was beating faster and you tried to see who it was from your bed before getting up. Was it a paparazzi already? As you recognized the red and blue suit you jumped up and opened your window. He literally fell into your arms and you pulled him into your room. His suit was shredded into pieces as was his mask. Dried blood was smeared all over his body and you could see bruises here and there where his suit wasn’t covering him anymore. You pulled him on to your bed and he let himself fall immediatly letting out a painfull groan.

“What - the - hell - happned?”,you hissed at him and were hovering over him to examine his wounds. “I’m fine. I’ll heal. I couldn’t show up like this at Aunt May’s. Give me five seconds.”,he said out of breath and you stood up straight and put your hands on your hips. “This was Tony wasn’t it?”,you said and you were getting more livid with every second. “No, Y/N! That’s not it!”,he said slightly panicking and wanted to sit up but the pain let him fall back down into the sheets groaning.

“Don’t fuck with me Parker!”,you growled and took your jacket and stormed out of your room. You just ignored his cries and slammed the door shut. Arriving at Tonys place you were absolutely furious. You stormed in as soon as the door opened and met Black Widow and Vision. “Don’t.”,you warned them,“Get out of my way.”,you added while walking past them. “Oh oh. Tony is in trouble.”,you heared Black Widow say and rushed in to the living room. “Tony!”,you yelled and looked for him.

“Tony!?”,you yelled louder, more angry this time and looked around. You saw a vase on the shelf and grabbed it.

“TONY!”, you exclaimed furiously and he appeared at the staircase. “What’s goi-…?” You didn’t even hear what he was saying. As soon as you saw him you threw the vase into his direction. Him being Iron Man he ducked down and the vase crashed against the wall behind him. He looked up with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar. “What the-…”,he started but you cut him off again.

“Are you even aware of the fact that Peter is still a fucking teenager, you selfish bastard?!”,you yelled at him and now you had an audience watching you. “I think it’s best to not intervene. My calculations show that it is not favorable to be on the bad side of Y/N.”,you could hear Vision say in the background. “You don’t say.”, Tony said rolling his eyes and he threw his hands into the air and came slowly down the stairs. “I know he got hurt bad this time. And I’m sorry. But no one said that it was easy to be an Avenger.”, he said and that made you even more livid.

“You didn’t even let him be in the Avengers! Which by the way is good because there are no Avengers! It’s just a name, an empty promise. You guys split up over a stupid desicion. And now your dragging Peter into this!”, you growled and he stood where he was his hands still up in the air. “I’m no superhero Stark, but if you hurt Peter one more time I’m coming for you.”,you said and rushed past him. “I’m sorry Y/N!”, he said and you stopped walking. You formed your hands into fists and tried to controll your anger. Tears were now building up in your eyes and you were shaking.

“He was perfectly fine as the friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”, you said and closed your eyes. “I can’t loose him. Please don’t make me loose him Tony.”,you said, your voice chocked up because of the tears running down your cheeks. “Y/N…”,you heared Tony say but you didn’t listen and walked away. “If one of you guys follow me I will call the cops  and you’ll have to deal with them.”,you threatened them before you left the tower. On your way home you were crying miserably. Peter had blown off your phone with messages and calls but you ignored all of them walking aimlessly through the streets of new york. You didn’t want to go home where you’d have to meet Peter. You needed to calm down first. You took a short cut you discovered a few weeks ago because it was getting colder with any minute. You wiped your tears away with your sleeve and snuffled because your nose was runny from all that crying. You didn’t recognize the footsteps behind you until they were right behind you. Suddenly an arm wrapped aggressivly around your throat and a second hand was pressed against your mouth. Adrenaline rushed through your veins and you tried to scream and threw punches and kicked aimlessly but the cloth in his hand muffled your voice and made you dizzy immediatly. Soon enough your knees gave in and your sight went dark.

***

“Y/N?”

Your head was pounding. You felt cold stones under your body. Wetness. Where were you?

“Y/N!”

You were freezing. Your whole body was stiff and when you attempted to move your head pain shot through your nerves. You shreeked in pain and felt dizzy again. What happened?

“Y/N?”,the voice was now right next to you. “Baby, wake up. Please.”

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t open your eyes. You had difficulties breathing. Suddenly you felt two arms wrap around you and lift you up bridal style. You groaned in pain and everything was dark again.

***

Peter bombarded you with calls and messages when you left but you didn’t answer any of them. An hour later Peter got a text and he thought it was from you until he unlocked his screen. An anonymus number.

“Shouldn’t have revealed her, Spider-boy.”

Peter shot up immediatly. He had many enemies and this was obviously a threat. He took out his phone and called Tony.

“Yes Spiderling, Y/N was here and scolded me into the ground.”,Tony said after picking up and Peter thought his heart stopped. “Was?!”,he yelled and jumped up from your bed, not feeling any pain anymore because of the adrenaline rush. “She’s in danger Tony. I have to find her!”, he said before hanging up and rushing out of the window into the night.

He found you by the tracking system in your phone. You were lying unconcoius on the floor in a narrow alley. He saw blood, your blood, splattered all over the floor. Bruises were covering your skin and there were lacerations on your face and limbs. You called out for her but she didn’t move. As you picked her up to bring her to Tony she groaned and her body got all baggy.

“Nonononono.”,he repeated under his breath and he was starting to panick.“ "It’s going to be alright Y/N. You’re fine. Just bare with me.”, he said more to himself while he swung over the roofs. Arriving at Tonys he rushed in there and yelled for anyone. “Mr.Stark? Vision? Natasha? Rhodey? Anyone! Please!”,Peter yelled and his vision got blurry while tears were building up in his eyes. While he walked into the living room Tony walked out and his eyes widened when he saw the two kids.

“What happened?”, he said and took you out of Peters arms and laid you down on to the couch. Peter was shaking and still in shock and couldn’t move, his eyes on you. “Hey!”,Tony said and snapped his fingers infront of his face. “I need you here Parker. Pull yourself together. What happened?”,Tony snapped him out of his state of trance and grabbed your wrist to check for your pulse. After that he leaned down to check for your breathing. “They snapped a pic of me kissing her as spiderman. I got a message after fighting with her. Someone threatened her. Someone I fucked with did this to her! I did this.”,Peter growled now and formed his hands into fists.

“I took those down. They think it was photoshop!”,Tony said and furrowed his brows. Meanwhile Peter was getting more furious with every secon. He would kill those who did this to you. He would rip them apart.

“Instant kill activated.”,Karens voice echoed through the room and Tony shot Peter a concerned glare.

“Okay lover boy. I need you to step back now. You’re drama won’t help her. Vision!”,Tony yelled and pushed Peter back with his hand pressed against his chest. Vision floated through the wall into the living room and and widend his eyes. “You need to steady her pulse. It’s really weak. She is barely breathing.”,Tony demanded and went to his medical aid drawer and took out stuff he needed. “She’ll need a strong pulse before I can take care of the wounds.”,he added while opening the box. “I want to help. Tell me what I can help with.”,Peter rambled with a dhaking voice and went to Tony. “You can sit down. That would help.”,Tony said and looked up to the boy he cared for as much as for the girl.

Peter groaned and went over to you and kneeled down next to you. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple and took your saggy hand into his and stroked it with his thumb. “Hey, sweetheart. Can you hear me? Please hold on. You’re going to be fine.”,Peter said and his voice sounded stronger than he felt while tears were running down his cheeks. “Mr.Parker I need you to step away.”,Visions voice cut through the air filled with tension and Peter looked up. “I’ll have to shock her. It would kill you.”,he explained and Peter let go of your hand hesitantly.

Vision leaned down and placed his hands over your chest where your heart was beating. Barely. He closed his eyes and suddenly Peter could see how the stone on his head started glowing. The next thing he saw was energy going threw Vision into Y/N and how you arched your back. You gasped and shut your eyes open and soon enough your bloodcurdling scream echoed through the whole tower. Suddenly the light was gone and your chest sank back into the couch and your head fell sidways. “What happened? Is she okay?”,Peter shot up and took your hand into his. “She is unconcious. Her heart is steady again. My analytics show that her breathing is normal too. She should survive.”,Vision explained and Peter sighed thankfully. “Hopefully.”,he added and Peter shot Vision a concerned look. “You need to work on your sarcasm Vision.”,Tony said and pushed Peter to the side. “I’ll handle this from here.”, he said and started taking care of her wounds.

Now this situation was difficult to deal with for Peter and Tony. Peter felt responsible for not following you and keeping you by his side. Tony on the other hand felt responsible as an adult. He was the one supposed to take care of you both. Peter might be a superhero but he was still fifteen, as Y/N made it very clear earlier. You were like a daughter to Tony and even though he didn’t let his emotions slip outside of his heart, he felt devasted. Both of them were in a competition like state when Natasha came in.

“Guys!”,she interrupted both men who were hivering over you to make you feel better. “Get out. She needs rest. Not people fixing her when they should fix themselves.”,she said with a raised brow and pointed at the door. “Let her sleep.”,she added and crossed her arms infront of her chest. “Yes Peter. You too. You can’t help her. She has to heal herself.”,Romanoff now said more gently and walked over to the chouch and sat down. “I’ll call you guys when she woke up.”

***

When you came to yourself your body felt like someone parked a car above you. Your limbs were heavy, your muscels sore and your throat was burning. You shut your eyes open very carefully and were surprised to find yourself in the Tower. Didn’t you leave after yelling at Tony? And suddenly the whole event rushed through your brain and you groaned in pain as you remembered the last bit with Vision. “Hey there fighter.”, you heared a woman say an looked into the direction where the voice was coming from. “Nat. What happened?”, you said and your voice was raspy and it hurt. “You fought like a superhero. I guess you’re stonger than us after all.”,she said with a tiny smile and stood up.

“I think I should bring the idiots in. They’re fighting for hours now.”, she said while leaving the room and you pulled yourself up with all the strength you had and sat up. You leaned your elbows on your knees and covered your face with your hands. You felt bandaids on your forehead and groaned. You took your hands off and steadied your feet on the floor and got ready to stand up. As you pulled yourself up Peter came rushing in and pulled you in a tight hug. “Sweetheart I am so sorry.”, he said and pulled away a little to put his lips gently on yours. You were still dizzy so you broke the kiss soon enough and looked into his eyes. You saw regret and pain flooding the melty brown of his eyes and your heart shrunk. You wished that he did not do anything stupid.

“Did he..”,you started and looked over Peters shoulder to Tony. “I kept him inside. No one was killed.”,Tony answered and you sighed in relief. You put your arms around Peter and let your head rest against his shoulder. “Thank you.”,you mouthed to Tony and he gave you a little smile and a nodd. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”,Peter said again and placed a kiss on your temple.

“I’m still angry with you two, you know that, right?”,you said into his shoulder and they both said “Yes.”, at the same time. “Good. I’m really tired right now but you’ll have to deal with me eventually.”,you added and Peter chuckled lightly. “I’ll get you home.”, he said and swept you off your feet to carry you bridal style. “I could get used to this.”,you said wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your heavy head against his chest. “Pff. I could fly you home.”,Tony said and you chuckled. “You could shut up, Mr.Stark.”,Peter said and left everyone in the tower with their mouths ajar.

A/N: Part 2?