#they are slowly changing his hair from black to brown........ why. genuinely skipped over him because i didn't think that was pavitr

[demigod-of-the-agni]

the fuck did they do to pavitr again

Edge of Spider-Verse (2024) Issue #4

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART TWELVE

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+! Explicit sexual content Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: ahh, sweet resolution. Writing this chapter made me euphorically happy. Thank you for reading! Extra thank you for liking, reblogging, or replying to this fic. I’m so happy people like it as much as I do. 

taglist: @valleyd0ll​ @satingrass-maidensfair​ @guitarfingers​ @thebohemianpenguin​ @peaceisouranthem​ @oblvions​ @hansonobsessed​ @myownparadise96​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​ @bigblack-catattack​

MASTERPOST

The final week before the play was an oddly enjoyable hell. Every second felt like it flew by and dragged on for eternity simultaneously. 

You had skipped class on Thursday, just to make sure you had every costume just the way you wanted it. Your very favorite one to work on had been Alice’s dress - you put more work into it than most of your classes for the past couple of weeks, but by the time it was done, it could have been in a storybook. 

As it hung from your closet door, you took a moment to be proud of yourself, admiring the lace and the neat trimmings. 

Kate showed up around 5, and somehow you knew she would, even though she never mentioned a thing when you told her you were staying home. 

“Hi, you,” she greeted, letting herself in as she slipped past you. “Did you get it all done?”

“Well, if I had another week, I’m sure I could find more that I could work on with them, but they’re pretty great,” you agreed. “You want a glass of wine?” 

She shook her head at you. “Actually, I’m taking you shopping tonight.”

“Shopping?” 

“Yeah, have you thought about what you’re going to wear to the play?” she inquired, sounding smug like she knew you really hadn’t.

You frowned at her, unsure. “I was thinking probably something simple.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, it should be something classy, pretty,” she said. 

“And warm,” you reminded, thinking of the snow outside. 

“Sure, sure, yeah. So, are you coming?”

You gave her a sweet smile. “Let me get my coat.”

+++

“I don’t think I can wear this,” you said through a grimace as you turned this way and then that in the mirror. Kate had let herself right into the dressing room with you, her long legs taking up more space than you could afford in such a small room. “My whole vagina would freeze.”

“It’s not that short,” she giggled.

“Yeah, but it’s just an open dress. My legs are exposed!” 

“True, maybe you could wear leggings under it,” she suggested. 

“If I were going to wear leggings, I’d want a longer dress I think. Maybe something mid-calf. Then I could wear booties.”

She looked like she was considering it for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that seems like it would be super cute. What about your hair?”

“How about we find the dress first and go from there,” you teased. 

Once you were dressed again and had everything hung back on the “reject” rack, you ventured out into the store again, weaving through mannequins and lines of garments. You went to grab a hanger when you snapped your hand back in pain. 

“Damn,” you hissed. She turned to give you a concerned look. “My fingers are so sore from sewing. I’m kind of thinking they might never recover.”

You were joking, but she gave you a sympathetic look anyway. “You know this play is just as much yours as it is his, right?” 

You huffed a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s so dramatic.”

“Well, pretty damn close,” she objected, pulling a dress from the rack in front of her and laying it over her forearm. “His ass would have been grass without you.”

“We can thank Rachel for that,” you quipped, chronically annoyed by the thought of her. 

She paused what she was doing and met your eyes. “Did you figure out why she quit?”

You gave her a confused frown. Now that you were thinking about it, Josh never did tell you why. You shook your head. “Why?”

“Well, it sounds like she kinda had a thing for Josh. Like a big thing. And that’s why she signed up to work with him in the first place.”

You nodded for her to continue, your stomach feeling tight. 

“And I guess it went okay for a little while - he seemed receptive to it apparently, but she found out he had a female roommate and saw you guys eating lunch together all of the time, you know?” Kate continued carefully. 

You hummed, trying to seem casual, but you felt a little like you’d just been sucker-punched. 

“How did you hear about this?” 

“Grapevine,” she replied with a smile. “What do you think of this one?” 

She was stroking her fingers down a long dress, black with flowers in muted colors. “That would go really well with my coat actually. We have to accept the reality that I’m going to have to wear a coat the whole time.”

She smiled at you in an oddly genuine way for her. “I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but you should go for it.”

You gave her a confused look. “I have to try it on first.”

She put a hand flat on your chest. “Not the dress, you goober. Josh.”

You stared blankly at the ground until you were sure of what you wanted to say. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t lose him as a friend - I’d be devastated.” 

“Why would you think you’d fuck it up? I don’t know that you could, to be honest.” You watched as she grabbed a pair of earrings, dangling off of their cardboard hanger. She started back off toward the dressing room, and you followed close behind.  

“We’ll have to wait and see what happens.”

+++

You helped Josh get all of the costumes to the school on Friday, hanging them up on racks backstage. You took the time to make them all tags, writing the kid’s names in fancy, flowing script. 

Josh was working on getting the first set perfectly into place, so everything was ready to go for showtime the next day. Despite how clearly nervous he was, you could hear him handing out compliments and words of encouragement to the stagehands - even his constructive advice was said in a way that felt like every person in that room was his best friend. 

He had left you mostly alone to get the wardrobe ready, but when he popped back into your area, he crouched down next to where you were sat on the floor. 

“I probably won’t be home until late again tonight,” he informed with a half-frown. “There’s a lot I still have to get into place.”

You gave him an understanding smile. “Don’t worry about me, worry about you. You need a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.”

“I know,” he replied, looking thankful. “Show me some of these costumes.”

You had been oddly flattered that he had trusted you enough to have them done - and done well - by the time of the play; he hadn’t asked to see them even once until right then. 

“You can look through them, but they won’t look right until they’re on a child.”

His face lit up like that was the best news of the day. “That’s perfect because the kids should be here for dress rehearsal in about ten minutes.”

You smiled at him as he stood and helped you up with two outstretched hands. 

He ran his hands over the rack, pausing on the one you knew he would. With a perplexed look, he pulled the door mouse costume and held it up. 

“This is-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I know, I really hope it’s okay, but I found a sheet in your room with some rough designs on it, and I really liked a lot of them,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“You were going through my stuff?” he asked with a grin.

You shook your head. “Just that. And it was when I went in to get Penny.”

His fingers slid down the tail of the costume, made from a string of peach-hued rope - just like his draft had called for. His brown eyes flicked up at you, looking like melted chocolate under the warm-colored lights. “I literally don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you for this.”

You could feel a blush rising on your cheeks, the sensation of flower petals brushing your stomach lining. “Let’s make it through the show without them falling to pieces first.” Your tone had been a teasing one, but he looked completely unaffected. 

The intensity of the moment was slowly creeping up on you - you weren’t sure if he was going to kiss you or cry. In the end, he did neither. 

“Do you want to stick around to see the kids in their outfits?” he offered, but you shook your head. 

“I’m actually really excited to see it all for the first time tomorrow,” you replied with a smile that was immediately matched by his. 

“Alright, I like that idea.” He paused a moment before speaking again. “Don’t wait up for me, okay?”

You chuckled at him, pulling your jacket on to leave. “No promises.”

+++

That evening you spent a long time in the bathtub with a bottle of wine. You had homework to do - and you tried for a couple of hours, but you just couldn’t be fucked with it, so you turned the water up as hot as it would go and rested your head on a rolled-up towel.

You felt silly about it now, but you were scared that once this was over, you would feel lost without the costumes to worry about. That moment never came for you - at least not with the costumes. 

You definitely couldn’t stop thinking about Josh.

There was this terrible feeling in the pit of your gut - a guilt, heavy like you swallowed a pile of gravel.

When you got out, you haphazardly dried off and left the wet towel on the bathroom floor. You got changed into a long-sleeved shirt and your pajama shorts and then grabbed what was left of your wine and made your way to Josh’s room. After you laid out on his bed, you rolled over onto your side and stared into the fish tank, pressing your fingers against the glass. 

Penny had been snoozing in her log decoration, but when she spotted you, she hurried out to greet your hand.

“I fucked up, Penny,” you whispered. You imagined she was making an angry face at you, but in reality, she was just floating there, probably wondering where her dinner was.

You glanced at the time on your phone. 

8:32 pm

You grabbed the little jar of flakes off of his bedside table and strained to drop a couple into the water. She gobbled them up excitedly, her safety-orange colored fins waving in the water. 

You had no idea when it happened, but you woke up to the dresser drawer by your head opening. You sat up, irregular heartbeat making you feel jittery.  

Josh turned to look at you, a warm smile on his lips, the sun illuminating his tan face. “Hey,” he greeted. 

“Oh my god, it’s light outside. What time is it?” you asked groggily.

“About 8:30. I got home at midnight and you were passed out in here, so I covered you up,” he informed, making your face run warm.

You pushed your messy hair away from your face. “I’m sorry, I was laying in here with Penny and I must have fallen asleep.” You glanced around in confusion. “I didn’t even feel you get out of bed.”

“Oh, I slept on the couch,” he replied, picking a pair of pants from his top drawer. 

You frowned, casting your eyes down to the bedsheets. He thought you didn’t want to sleep next to him, and instead of waking you up to move you, he slept out on the couch. The idea made you want to cry.

“Will you sit with me a moment?” you asked, patting the spot next to you. 

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I really want to, but I need to be over to the school in twenty minutes. I am planning on being back here around 4 to eat something quick and then get ready.”

“Okay.” You clambered out of bed as he pulled his shirt off and changed into a new one. “I think I’ll probably already be at Kate’s, but if you want to take my car you can.”

He shot you a smirk. “Really? You’re going to let me drive?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, putting on your best mom voice. “Yes, but only if you promise to be very safe.”

He put his hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I’ll see you after the show,” you said, maybe a little too sweetly, and brushed a curl out of his eyes. It was well worth it to see the tops of his cheeks turn pink. 

+++

As Kate took you both to the theater, you couldn’t kick the nervous butterflies. She looked beautiful - you’d never seen her in anything but mom jeans, but she was dressed in a plaid skirt, tights, and a black turtleneck sweater. She had insisted on doing your makeup - sitting you down at her vanity and pulling a barstool close enough she could reach you. You had known better than to complain about the amount of time she took - besides, you had gotten over to her house so early, you had nothing but time. When she was done, you barely recognized yourself. Somehow she had made your eyes look bigger, your lashes longer and darker, and your face sharper. You were used to wearing foundation and concealer, but your face felt almost a little heavy under all she’d put on you. 

She had laid out a few extra things for you - a pair of boots and a set of green gem earrings and you gave her a thankful smile as you donned them. The truly hard part was resisting hugging her very affectionate polar bear - which was actually a dog, she informed you. You had tried once, but she scolded you, reminding you that white fur didn’t look good on black fabric.

You had whispered a promise to him that you would be back soon to give him all the love he could handle.

When she pulled up to the school, she had you get out at the doors and grab the tickets while she went to park, and to your pleasant surprise, Jake was waiting for you. He helped you out of the car with an outstretched hand. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to wear, but it definitely wasn’t a button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone and nothing underneath. 

“You’re literally making me cold just looking at you,” you teased, wrapping your arms comfortingly around your frame. You had earned a grin from him.

“I’m wearing a coat,” he reasoned, holding up the hem of a light peacoat to prove his point.

You rolled your eyes at him. “C’mon, let’s get our tickets.”

He pulled two tickets out of said coat’s pocket and handed them to you. “You mean these?”

“Did you buy these?” you asked through a frown.

“One of them. I bought mine and Kate’s, and I think you can guess who got yours,” he responded with a genuine smile. 

You took one of the tickets wordlessly, but you couldn’t suppress a smile. 

As soon as Kate had joined you in the foyer, you took your seats. Despite it being only a college production, you were shocked at how many people had come to the opening night. There were only a handful of open spots left when they flashed the lights, and you could just imagine Josh giving the kids a pep talk backstage. 

The show started with a fun, bouncy opening music number and you leaned against Kate as you looked on at all the set pieces you’d both worked so hard on. You had thought your job was hard, but Kate had to round up a bunch of art students to help her work on the hundreds of different props.

Leave it to Josh to treat a children’s musical like a broadway show. 

The first half of the show went pretty much perfectly - everyone seemed to remember their lines, and if they didn’t, you didn’t notice. You couldn’t help but smile in pride as you watched all of your costumes appear on stage, one by one. 

During intermission, your head snapped over when you heard a soda tab opening and you shot Kate a disapproving look - you’re pretty sure you’d read a “no outside food and drink” sign at the front entrance. She gave you an unapologetic smile as she took a long sip and then handed the can over to Jake. He laughed under his breath.

The time went by too fast, and the closer it got to the closing act, the more anxious you got. The final scene was a triumphant number, exciting and big. You could tell that a lot of the audience was family members because when the curtain fell, they all began to stand. Hooting and hollering filled the huge room, and you almost cried when the curtain rose again to reveal some of the kids wearing smiles that spread all the way to their ears. It started with the minor characters - the cards, the flowers, and then the Cheshire Cat, the Hatter, the Caterpillar, the White Rabbit. Then finally, The Queen of Hearts, followed by a grinning Alice. 

They waved excitedly at the crowd, eating up the standing ovation like it was candy. You saw Kate with her hand pressed over her mouth and the biggest eyes you’d ever seen her wear - she was absolutely in love with them, as was the entire rest of the room. 

A moment or two later, Josh stepped out onto the stage. You recalled back when you had first met him and had told him you couldn’t imagine him in business casual because he was wearing a dark blue suit, a pair of black dress shoes, and a proud grin. As the kids made a spot for him in the line, he crouched down in between them and gave a couple of them a pat on the back. You saw him speak something at the girl playing Alice, and it must have been praise because she gave him a toothy smile in return. 

When the cast members had returned backstage, you had told Kate and Jake to leave when they were ready - you were going to wait for Josh. Both of them had given you knowing smiles that you brushed off easily enough, but they left all the same with a parting word of “text me” from Kate. 

You gave it enough time that most of the audience had left - all the kids joining their parents with promises of ice cream and treats - before you made your way backstage. 

After looking for him for a moment, you spotted Josh chatting with an older man excitedly by the back exit. When the older man (his professor, you assumed) laid eyes on you, he gestured toward you with a, “Please head home, we’ll see you tomorrow. You’ve done a great job.”

Josh turned to look at you and the smile melted from his lips as he nodded a haphazard acknowledgment to his professor. 

“Hey,” you greeted, only needing to speak above a whisper in the quiet area. Viewing him on stage was fine - it felt impersonal, but up close it felt like looking into the sun. “You look so handsome.”

His cheeks turned red under the tan skin as he rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through a weak laugh, and a moment later said, “The costumes were incredible.”

“Not bad for someone who didn’t know how to sew a month ago, right?” you teased. You stared into his eyes for a long moment before crossing the room and taking his hand. “Are you ready to go?” you asked, then teasingly added, “Provided my car is still intact.”

He chuckled at you before taking a long breath. “Yeah, let’s go home.” 

The car ride home was tense, but not uncomfortable. You could sense the electricity running through him as you chatted about the production - the pride radiating from him was palpable. 

When you pulled into the apartment parking lot, it had just begun snowing, and neither of you made any moves to exit the car once it was turned off. 

After a long moment of silence, you spoke again. “We have a lot to talk about.”

He gave you a nervous look, one eyebrow quirked. “We do?”

You breathed a laugh, half-turning towards him in your seat. After a moment of collecting your thoughts, you said, “I want you to lay it all out for me. I know we haven’t been talking about it because it’s scary but I need to know exactly how you feel about me.”

He stared into your eyes for a long time, seemingly trying to predict whether this was a good idea or not. Just for assurance, you laid your hand on top of his where it rested on his knee - his fidgeting fingers pausing under your touch. 

“You know, I think I felt it for you the moment I first met you,” he admitted, casting his eyes anywhere but on yours. “I was nervous up until semi-recently that I just felt that way because I was lonely, you know? When my ex and I parted ways last spring and my roommate dropped out and moved away, I felt like I lost everyone all at once.

“I stopped going to parties and seeing my friends until I had none left. And I didn’t want to see my family - I think I had become accustomed to being alone, but you moved in and you were so kind. I’m not sure exactly when it happened - probably kind of a little bit at a time - with every interaction, you know? But I feel it for you. For real.”

He met your eyes again with a surprised frown. You watched his other hand come up, his thumb swiping under your eye, leaving a cool spot behind. “I’m sorry, don’t cry.”

You laughed weakly. “I didn’t know I was. I’m going to ruin all the makeup Kate spent an hour working on.” Before he could speak again, you took the moment. You leaned in and tugged him closer to you by the lapels of his suit jacket, pressing your lips to his. He melted into it for only a moment before pulling away with a sad smile. 

“I don’t want you to do this just because you feel bad for me,” he explained, voice uncharacteristically flat. 

You gave him a frown, taking his chin between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. “I’m not,” you promised, but he looked unconvinced. So you tried again.

“Josh, I’m so sorry about the way I’ve treated you. I fucked up. You have got to be the absolute sweetest person I’ve ever met - definitely the sweetest man - and it was fucked of me to sleep with you and then make you feel like you were wrong for wanting affection.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“It’s never going to happen again. Because - if you’ll have me - I want to give you all the affection you can handle. No weed-induced hook up’s this time.”

He was silent for a long moment, and you huffed a laugh as you visualized his brain working. 

“Oh,” he breathed as a smile started to tilt his lips up at the corners. “Well. That’s not how I expected this to go. Are we gonna fuck here - in the car?”

An abrupt laugh ripped through your chest. “I would prefer if we didn’t, this is cloth upholstery. But we could go inside?”

He nodded at you, and opening the door and stepping out, he came around to your side and gave you his hand to make sure you didn’t fall in the new snowfall. 

Inside, he toed off his dress shoes, and you bent to undo the buckles on your boots, your fingers shaking slightly in anticipation. The second you were stood again, he had you pressed back against the door with just enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. 

When he leaned in and connected your mouths, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing into his hair. 

He kissed a trail down your jaw and to the base of your throat, the feeling of teeth dragging across your skin giving you goosebumps. He hummed into your neck as his hands snaked around your body, his fingers tugging up the hem of your dress.

You slipped your coat off with his help once he realized what you were trying to do. As soon as it fell to the floor, you were walking him back blindly through the apartment, neither of you caring when you bumped into this or that. He turned you around when you reached his bedroom, laying you out over the covers. 

You watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, then the cuffs of his dress shirt. 

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he mumbled, making you blush lightly as he gestured to your form. “Did you do this for me?”

Through a smile, you replied, “Of course.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he stated confidently as he worked to open his button-down shirt. You decided that you weren’t going to let him do that alone, so you sat up, replacing his fingers with yours. 

You huffed. “Don’t say that.” The second the fabric was undone, you pressed your lips to his warm stomach, feeling the skin twitch under the touch. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met - candy sweet.” It was his turn to flush pink across his face, but you weren’t done yet. “I find myself thinking about you constantly.” You nipped into the trail of hair below his navel as you tugged his shirt from his dress pants. He hummed low at the slight pain. “I actually got some condoms in case you wanted to use them. Probably not all of them tonight - it’s a big pack, but you know. Over the next couple of weeks.” Your tone was teasing, forcing a breathy laugh from him. 

“Where are they?” he asked, voice a little gravelly. 

“My bedside stand.” 

As he exited the room to retrieve them, you pushed yourself up onto the bed until your head hit his pillows. You could hear him rummaging in the next room until the noise stalled for a beat as you worked off your leggings. You listened to him pad back across the hall, wearing just a smile and his dress pants when he returned. 

He crawled up the bed over you, pressing his face into your cheek as his hand lifted the hem of your dress. 

“What’s this?” he asked into your ear, pressing something cold against your thigh. You knew what it was instantly, making you suck in a surprised breath. 

You laughed, but even to your ears, it sounded nervous. He held it up so you could see.

“That would be a vibrator.”

It wasn’t anything special - just a slim, blue plastic piece, but it was the only one you’d ever had, and it had been a very good friend to you. He hovered his lips over yours as he ran the toy up your leg until the tip of it brushed your panties. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, but he sounded smug like he already knew the answer. You squirmed in anticipation and nodded. 

When he brushed it across your mound, you jolted, your fingers pressing tightly into his shoulder. He applied a little pressure to it, pressing it into the folds over the fabric. The feeling made you whine in the back of your throat.

He sat up, slipping his legs under yours, pulling your ass into his lap. Your face felt hot, so you covered your eyes with your fingers, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth. This was a lot different than hooking up with him while high. 

He played the toy over your panties until you were wet enough to have left a damp spot in the fabric. Then he hooked his fingers under them and tugged them down enough to give him full access, though the position restricted him from removing them completely. 

When the plastic pressed against your bare skin, you had to suppress a moan. You couldn’t see, so you didn’t expect it when the toy flicked to life against you, and he ran it across you lightly, just teasing. 

You stared up at the ceiling through your fingers, your mouth agape as he brushed it over your clit in circles, making your hips buck into the touch.

“Fuck,” you breathed, taking one of your hands from your eyes and running your fingers through your hair. If you tugged on the locks lightly, no one had to know but you. 

A little rougher, he deliberately pressed just the tip of it into your clit, forcing a shocked whine from the back of your throat. You made the mistake of sitting up on your elbows to watch, but instead, all you could look at was the form of his hard cock straining against his tight pants. 

You couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried - you reached out and ran your fingers down the length of it. It twitched under your touch, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. You made a mental note to congratulate him on his dedication. Instead, he grabbed your wrist with a firm grip and laid you back down, all without taking his eyes off of his task. 

You could feel it starting to build in you as you rocked your hips into the feeling of the toy against your most sensitive part. You were positive that you looked absolutely pathetic, but when you met his eyes, he looked so entranced that it made you blush deeper - if that was even possible. 

Your fingers were flexing into his sheets as you came, a high whine ripping through your chest. When he pulled the toy away, a thread of your come was still connected to it, shimmering in the dim light of his lamp. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss against it, leaving his lips shiny. 

It took you a moment to collect yourself - your breathing was ragged and not at all appealing, if you had to guess. 

He gently placed your vibrator on his side table, and you watched as his fingers worked open the button on his pants, and then the zipper. When he pulled down the elastic band of his underwear, his cock popped out - rock hard. He pushed all the fabric down to his thighs and then tugged you further into his lap until your parts were flush together. 

“Did you want the condom?” you asked with a fucked-out smile. 

“Fuck it,” he replied with a grin as he rubbed his cock through your slit, making your over-sensitive skin pulse.  

You breathed a little “ah” sound as your whole lower half felt like it was hooked up to a live wire. “Are you telling me that you went all the way over there and forgot the condom?”

“First of all,” he started with a sinister laugh. “It’s just across the hall. Second of all, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

You had opened your mouth to respond but before you could, he pushed into you, his thumb holding his cock into place. 

“Fuck,” you rasped, throwing your head back into the pillow. You could feel how wet you were just by his movements. Your hands reached out until you could dig your fingernails into his forearms, his hands tight on your hips as he bottomed out in you. 

You looked up just in time to catch his tongue swipe out over his lips, his eyes half-lidded. 

He started rocking in and out of you like a tide drawn to the beach, sending little shockwaves through your core and up into your tight stomach.

To give your fingers something to do, they worked at the buttons on your dress. They only went down to the bottom of your ribcage, but it was far enough to expose your chest. He didn’t waste even a second before he moved one of his hands to your tit, squeezing it until it spilled out through his fingers. 

You were focused on that until he brushed something inside of you that made your jaw drop open. You went to moan but no sound would come out, so you sat up on your hands and pushed back against him, forcing him in deeper. His teeth were clenched as his hands found your hips again, holding you in the position you needed to be in to work yourself on him. He hummed, eyes fluttering as he met you halfway, thumbs pushed into the thin skin across your hip bones. You briefly wondered if he’d leave you little oval-shaped bruises.

He was staring into your eyes as best he could while his eyelids fluttered, so you knew when he was getting close to the edge. He pulled you up to him so you were riding his lap, his forehead against yours, the new angle putting his cock perfectly against your sweet spot as the length of him slid into you. 

You kissed him deeply as you worked yourself onto him, his breath hitching and his fingers lacing into your hair as he came. You were shockingly close behind, so when he drove you down on him harder to ride out his orgasm, you lost it too. 

You gasped into his mouth as it washed over you, leaving your senses as if you were swallowed by a wave. 

Neither of you moved for a few moments until you pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes. 

“You’re going to have come on your dress pants,” you whispered teasingly. He smirked back at you as he laid you out onto the bed. 

“Yeah, I’ll have to wash them before tomorrow night’s show,” he agreed, and the idea made your cheeks go pink. 

You were both silent as you cleaned up, and when you returned to him from the bathroom, he was already tucked under the covers in his bed. He smiled at you and held the comforter up for you as you crawled in next to him. You knew you were going to fall asleep almost instantly once you got completely situated, so it was lucky that he spoke before that happened. 

“I want you to come home with me for Christmas,” he stated, voice just above a whisper. 

You blinked over at him, a little stunned. 

“I don’t want you to be here alone - you deserve to be with a loving family,” he explained further when he saw the look on your face. 

You gave him a smile, feeling oddly sentimental post-orgasm. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes, so you buried your face in his neck. 

“I’d like that.”

[truckloadoffrogs]

SamBucky Daddy Kink

It’s after the mess at the airport, after Siberia, after Steve and him broke everyone out of the weird fucking prison in the ocean (?? what the fuck??), that they finally get to breathe in Wakanda. The King gave them guest rooms in the palace, not accepting no for an answer. He kindly gave them an apartment with three bedrooms and a spacious living room and kitchen, one bedroom for Bucky and the other for Steve when he wasn’t off in some other country glaring at politicians. Unfortunately, he gave Wilson the third bedroom.

There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with Wilson. He was just-- He just bothered Bucky. He got under his skin. Though he seemed to get genuine pleasure out of annoying the ever living fuck out of Bucky, it never seemed to be with malicious intent. He seemed to be testing Bucky, seeing how far he could go before Bucky would snap, but not because he was cruel. It almost seemed like Wilson was doing it for Bucky’s benefit, not his, like Wilson was showing Bucky that he was fine, he was safe, he wasn’t actually going to snap and go on another murderous rampage because Wilson watched Real Housewives every single day on their couch and refused to change the channel. 

Once Bucky got over that fact, he started to notice other things. Though Wilson didn’t stop teasing Bucky even when Bucky growled at him to quit it, he did stop when Bucky started to curl in on himself, when he got a little quiet and a little scared, waiting for the next baton hit or jab of electricity. Maybe it was Wilson’s own experience with trauma, or maybe it was his inherent goodness, but Bucky appreciated it. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

Wilson also seemed to care for Bucky in ways no one else did. With Steve off in who knows where, struggling to get them pardons, Bucky was adrift in a new country and a new century with new people around him. The other (ex) Avengers seemed wary of him, addressing him in overly polite tones when Bucky ventured outside of the apartment, seeming to wait for the day he reverts back to the Winter Soldier. But Wilson was different. 

He was always there for Bucky when he needed something, but he still teased Bucky and kept him human. He reminded Bucky to eat in the same breath as telling him his flesh arm was beginning to look a little chicken adjacent, he asked Bucky if he wanted to go on a run with him in the morning and get out of the house, and when Bucky mumbled the same “no, thanks” he always did, he grinned in relief and said that he was glad he would be able to run at his own pace for once, but still asked him the next morning and the next morning and the next morning. 

Soon Wilson became Sam, without Bucky even realizing it. Sam had wriggled and shoved his way into Bucky’s life so quickly and smoothly that Bucky had no way of stopping him. Bucky began to respond to Sam’s gentle prodding and encouragements with little smiles and an eye roll, instead of just an eye roll.

One day, when Sam and Bucky were sitting on the couch watching Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Sam asked Bucky what he would like for dinner and reminded him that he had an appointment with Shuri in the morning. 

Without even thinking, Bucky said, “God, Wilson, you’re such a Da—”.

Many things ran through Bucky’s head as he cut himself off. Shock. Alarm. Panic. Also, what the fuck???

Sam looked away from the television and glanced over at him. “What? I didn’t hear that last part.”

Bucky coughed. “I said 'God, Wilson’.”

Sam hummed, looking speculatively at Bucky. Bucky, still in a state of panic and shock, refused to look away from the screen, hoping and praying Sam would let it go and forget about it. 

Thankfully, some merciful god heard Bucky, and Sam turned back to face the television. 

Bucky let out a relieved breath. What the fuck was that? He almost called Sam Daddy. He’d never called anyone ‘Daddy’ before, not even when he was young and pretty in Brooklyn. He wasn’t some punk, especially now that he was over 250 pounds of muscle and literal metal. If anyone would be called Daddy it would be him. 

He had to admit though, Sam was a Daddy. He takes care of Bucky, he smiles indulgently at Bucky when he stumbles out of his room at the smell of Sam’s cooking in the morning, he bought Bucky’s favorite shampoo before Bucky even knew he was close to running out. He was warm and soft and big. Bucky wanted to curl up in Sam’s lap and feel his strong thighs under him and his gentle arms around him and-- Oh god. Oh no. This wasn’t good. 

If Steve were here he would laugh and laugh and laugh at Bucky’s misfortune. God. Bucky couldn’t believe he went and got a crush on Sam of all people. And not just a crush, oh no. Bucky’s life wasn’t that simple. Bucky wanted to call Sam Daddy. 

Bucky was now hyper-aware of Sam on the couch next to him, still watching the show on the television in front of them. There was maybe three feet between them, both Bucky and Sam leaning on opposite arm rests. Sam’s thick thighs were spread, with his feet flat on the ground, and his arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, big hand almost brushing Bucky’s shoulder. He even sits like a Daddy would, Bucky thought. He looked down at how he was sitting. He was in an almost completely opposite position. One of his legs was curled up under him and the other was up, with his chin resting on his knee and his arms wrapped around it. He looked small and submissive, and Sam looked dominant, like he could grab Bucky’s hair and shove his face down to his dick and make him--

Bucky shivered and uncurled from his position, stretching out his back. Sam looked over at his movement. 

“What did you say you wanted for dinner, Bucky? You didn’t say before,” Sam asked. 

“Uh-- Whatever you want. You pick.” 

Sam looked at Bucky for a beat, before saying, “Okay, baby.”

Bucky looked sharply over at Sam, but Sam wasn’t even looking at him anymore, and gave no sign that he knew what he just said. Though Bucky’s face was calm on the outside (he hoped), inside he was shrieking !!!!! BABY???!?!?!?!

They continued to watch until the end of the episode, Bucky sitting tensely on his side of the couch, and Sam spread out like a whole meal on the other side. When the end credits finished rolling, Bucky dragged a hand through his hair, wincing when it snagged on a tangle. 

“Ow. Shit,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky looked over at Sam to see him looking back worriedly. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just have to spray some detangler on my hair later.”

“Why don’t I just brush it now? You know it’s easier with another person.” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. “You’ve never wanted to brush my hair before.”

“Yeah? Well first time for everything, right?” Sam asked sweetly. He spread his legs impossibly wider and pointed to the ground between his feet. “Why don’t you get your comb and sit there, and I’ll brush it while we watch a movie?”

Bucky hesitated, before getting up and walking to his room. He had no idea what Sam was playing at, but he wasn’t going to skip out on someone brushing his hair. As he walked back into the living room with his comb in hand, he saw that Sam had moved to the middle of the couch and had turned on a Star Wars movie (Bucky still had no idea which one it was, the order still confused him). 

Bucky slowly walked up to Sam, and shifted back and forth on his feet. Sam smiled encouragingly, and widened his legs again. At his encouragement, Bucky nervously sat between his feet, his back up against the couch and his legs crossed. He reached behind him to hand Sam the comb, and then put his hands back in his lap. 

Sam reached over and started the movie, and then began combing through Bucky’s hair. He started at the ends, and the comb’s bristles gently caressed Bucky’s shoulders and upper back, making him shiver. As Sam slowly made his way up Bucky’s curls, Bucky relaxed more and more, his shoulders slumping and releasing tension he didn’t even know they had. Once Sam’s combing had reached the top of Bucky’s scalp, he was so relaxed he was almost swaying in place, his eyes heavy lidded and vision blurry. 

Gently, Sam pushed Bucky’s head to the side so that his temple was resting on Sam’s knee. 

“There you go, baby.”

Bucky was so out of it he didn’t even recognize what Sam said, he just shivered and slumped more so his cheek pressed against Sam’s thigh. 

Sam hummed appreciatively, and continued combing through Bucky’s curls, even though they were silkier than they had ever been. He continued combing Bucky’s hair until Bucky was fully asleep. 

When Bucky blinked his eyes open again, the television screen was black. He was still leaning on Sam’s thigh, and one of Sam’s hands was gently playing with the ends of his hair, while the other was holding a phone up to his ear.

“Everyone’s fine here, Steve, you don’t have to worry all the time,” Sam was saying, when Bucky finally focused on his voice and not on how comfortable he was on the floor between Sam’s feet. 

Bucky was embarrassed that he fell asleep while Sam was caressing him, like he was some kind of pet, so he started to sit up, but Sam pushed his head back. He continued playing with Bucky’s hair, occasionally threading his hand in at the roots and tugging gently, making tingles spread across Bucky’s scalp and down his neck. 

After a couple minutes, Sam said his goodbyes to Steve and took his hand away from Bucky’s head. Alarmingly, Bucky felt a whine bubble up in his throat, but he stopped it before it could pass his teeth. He still twitched a little though, making Sam glance down at Bucky. 

“Do you want me to keep petting you, Bucky?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbled quietly. 

Sam put his hand back in his hair, but instead of petting him, he pulled hard on Bucky’s hair, hard enough that Bucky’s head snapped back. Opening his eyes, Bucky saw Sam’s upside-down face leaning over him, brown eyes glittering. 

“That wasn’t very polite, baby. Where are your manners?”

“...please?” 

“Please what, baby?” 

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered. Was he really going to do this?

“Please, Daddy?” Bucky whispered, “Please keep petting me?”

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Sam smiled softly. “Of course I’ll keep petting you.”

He gently stroked a thumb down one of Bucky’s cheekbones before tipping his head forward again. Bucky leaned his cheek against Sam’s warm, strong thigh, and closed his eyes as Sam ran gentle, possessive fingers through his hair again. 

--

[syinisuga]

Begin Again [MinYoongi]

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Word count : 5.2K

Genre : Fluff and Angst

Description : Friends to lovers, Long Distance relationship, Lovers to (?)

Summary : when you thought the friendship you once had with him died away after one silly mistake, and you thought you would never have again what you lost;

But it blossoms back unexpectedly stronger and is slowly growing to be something more beautiful than you ever had

"I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn, and end;

But on a Wednesday in a cafe i watched it Begin Again"

--------------------✨📖✨---------------------

It was the start of a new year and you weren't particularly happy about being moved up a few classes into an entirely new class with relatively new students you haven't personally met yet. You were still grateful for your good results in the past year to have you land in such a good class. In all honesty though, you did miss your friends from your old class, all of them being scattered in the back classes however changed your mind about being thankful that you're at least in a better one. The first few days of getting used to the classes went by rather slowly as you were listening to the introductions of the other students and teachers half mindedly, till around your 4th day into the classes that is.

You were randomly seated in the Chemistry lab by the teacher as she familiarised herself with the rest of the class. Not paying much attention you were spacing out, resting your chin on your palm, tapping away at your cheek.

" Um, hey there"

The voice from the stool next to you spoke. You turned your head to the direction of the voice, being met with warm brown eyes looking right at you. He had soft black hair, eyes slightly puffy as if he hadn't slept well the night before, lips curled up in a slight smile as he looked at you.

"Oh, hello"

you answered, trying not to sound overly shocked at the first human interaction you've had in this new class.

"I'm yoongi, what's your name?"

"I'm y/n, nice to meet you Yoongi"

"So what are your interests? What do you like to do y/n? Any hobbies?"

It definitely took you by surprise when this boy you've never really met before was suddenly making an interest to get to know you more. Something about him felt raw and not shy but in a good way.

"Well i really love listening to music and i do indulge in art as well. Spend most of my time listening to songs while drawing. Draw the mood of the song you know?"

"Damn, haha you sound kinda like me. Not tryna be cheesy or anything but i love listening to music too, I'm shit at drawing tho, i can barely draw a stickman"

Both of you exchanged a little chuckle at his open confession about himself. And even though it had only been a few minutes of words between the two of you, you felt at that moment that he wasn't like the other boys who popped up to talk to you first. This one genuinely seemed interested in you just to make a new friend.

-----------------------🤝------------------------

"Yo y/n you wanna ditch PE and hang out in the library? The new Resident Evil movie came out we can watch"

"You know what, yeah let's yeet"

You don't know how it went from spending lunch times together, to skipping the most boring subjects to hang out and hide. It'd been a few months since you started your new friendship with Yoongi, and by now you were known as the inseparable duo, funny enough both of you became the class representatives. Somehow you two got closer and closer each day, the more you talked the more you felt like you've known each other for years, yet some part of you knew that there was more to Yoongi than he was showing to you.

On a particularly slow day at your classes, you and Yoongi had pre planned to sneak out to hang out at your usual spot in the library. Sitting at the back of the library the both of you laughed at a joke Yoongi made about how almost the whole school shipped the both of you.

"You know y/n, I envy you"

"Oh well, I know I'm fabulous" you playfully said as you flipped your hair back, earning a little grunt and a harmless eye roll from Yoongi.

"It's not that you loonatic, i envy you...cause you have such a nice relationship with your family"

His sudden statement caught you slightly off guard but you gave him a look, clearly eager to know the reason behind his words. Flashing half a smile towards you he starts his story.

"Growing up for me was, well, it was an experience. I grew up under the care of foster parents who constantly reminded me that my parents gave me away cause i was a burden, all my life that's what i was told. Never had a father figure or mother figure to help shape my emotions? Guess that's why I don't show it if I'm sad or depressed, which is actually most of the time"

he looks down at his hands and chuckles softly.

"But you know something y/n? Being with you makes me feel like I could be myself, like I don't have to be afraid of being judged. And that's why I wanted you to know the truth but i understand if you don't wanna get involved or-"

You cut him off by placing your hand on his, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Yoongi, i want you to know that I'll always be here for you and you can talk to me about this anytime okay? You're my best friend now! And I'm hoping I'm yours too?" You ask in a more playful tone making yoongi giggle.

"Of course you are"

"Good! Cause i come in a package deal of crackhead and supportive as well as a no return contract"

"Sounds perfect to me bestie"

-----------------------😚------------------------

Over 2 years had passed and the whole highschool down to the teachers were sure the two of you were in a relationship, as everyone saw the two of you being practically stuck together almost all the time. Yoongi and your friendship became stronger than ever since that day he decided to open up to you. It became a regular thing where you'd confide in each other for emotional comfort as well as motivation and support. Not missing the fact that your level of crackhead together had become an all time high.

Your finals and exams blasted through and you had spent all your study weeks with Yoongi in the library. As sketchy as it was you and your best friend actually did sincere studying. And as it would, your hard work together paid off earning the both of you high marks in your finals. The two of you didn't miss to make a trademark crackhead scene at the receiving of the scroll ceremony when you accidentally tripped on your shoelace and Yoongi cracked up laughing and clapping before helping you up. The two of you celebrate with drinks and a lot of food that night and Yoongi paid for everything to make it up to you for laughing when you fell.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror before heading out to your highschool's hall. It was your graduation party but more importantly to you it was Yoongi's birthday. Coincidentally the two events had fallen on the same day, and what better opportunity than to get dressed up to party at your graduation ceremony together. It had been a heck of a ride these last two years, and you were going to make sure this last school event would be memorable.

Upon arriving you scan around the hall of students in search of the familiar face.

"Looking for me?"

He makes his presence behind you known by clearing his throat. You turn around to give your usual playful comment back but the words were caught in your throat as your gaze landed on your best friend. He was dressed smart, in a suit that looked like it was custom made to fit him, his hair in a side part and bangs neatly framing his face. You were so used to seeing him in his casual hoodies and ripped jeans that seeing him in formal wear made you choke on your words.

Too focused on getting your senses back in check, you don't notice how Yoongi's train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks as he watched you turn around to face him. He never pictured his crackhead of a best friend in something other than t-shirts and track pants. Seeing you in a dress that hugged your figure in all the right places and taking in the sight of you, with your makeup and hair all done to suit the dress you were wearing nearly made him pass out from how he was holding his breath to admire you.

Clearing the silence between the two of you, Yoongi speaks up first.

"Well well, you don't completely look like the satanic spawn of hot cheetos and depression today. You actually look pretty good"

Smirking a little smile you bite back at his comment.

"Well same to you too Mr. I'm a millennial emo teen. You actually look, presentable today"

The two of you exchanged a playful giggle and assumed your seats at your class tables as the ceremony went on.

You don't see the small glances Yoongi takes in your direction, the thoughts gushing through his mind about how you looked at the moment and cursing himself for not realising your features sooner. He admired the way you had chosen to dress up today, seeing the way you had styled your hair so your curls would frame your face, the way you had done your makeup in a more natural looking way that he thought suited you perfectly. Yoongi didn't remember when the unlabeled feelings for you came but the longer he looked at you the more he was starting to put a name to the feelings he had. So much so that he had completely spaced out in his thoughts of you like that he didn't realise you were speaking to him.

" -don't you think so Yoongi?"

"I'm sorry what did you say? The umm, the music is so loud"

"I saaaaiiddd it's beginning to get a little dull at this graduation ceremony, we need a little surprise, don't you think?"

"Surprise?? What kind of surprise?"

Flashing a smile his way you get up and walk towards the front of the hall where the ceremony host was finishing up their ending speech. Whispering into the host's ear, he gives you the microphone and you confidently stride to the front. But you accidentally go too close to the speaker and it lets out an unpleasant squee, making you move back and away a little. You look up and around finding your best friend's eyes looking back at you giggling at the scene that just occured.

"Well that's one way to get everyone's attention" you chuckle earning muffled chuckles and words from the hall.

"So firstly congrats to everyone on graduating y'all did it. But that's not why I'm up here right now. Today is a special day for someone, and since it's the last day we'll all be gathering I wanted to make this memorable for him. So everyone I would like to wish out here, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIN YOONGI"

you started to sing happy birthday and the rest of the hall joined in singing with you.

In all this happening, Yoongi could only focus on you, the way you just boldly got up to sing out loud and wish him Happy Birthday in the most "you" way possible. So he didn't know if it was the moment or if it was his unlabeled feelings overflowing for you, that he got up and walked towards you as the song was ending. He couldn't tell what came over him at that moment but he knew for sure he wasn't going to stop what he was about to do next. Cupping your cheeks in his palms, he leaned in, pressing his soft lips to yours. Kissing you with deep feelings overtaking his mind. The moment his lips touched yours he knew what those unlabeled feelings were, it was Love.

You couldn't process fast enough that your best friend was striding towards you with a goal, a desire. And you surely didn't expect for him to suddenly kiss you. Registering the feeling of his lips on yours, your eyes closed on their own as if on automatic response. You sank into the feeling of his lips, and it was then you felt the spark that ignited your own unlabeled feelings for Yoongi. You had definitely asked yourself countless times before if what you were feeling for Yoongi was more than just friendship. On the countless nights he had cried on your shoulder or when you cried on his, on the many occasions where you were both always partners in crime, you would always glance at Yoongi and wonder what more could there be to the feelings between you.

As the both of you slowly pulled away from each other a roaring sound of cheers erupted as it seemed to be that the two of you were the last ones to know you two were actually in love with each other. Taking your hand in his, Yoongi and you ran out of the hall that night knowing well where the two of you stood from that moment on.

-----------------------❤️------------------------

"No babe I think you should definitely take the opportunity to study there, I know it's far but it'll be really good for you, plus it's something you really like! It'll take some time for you to get used to the new place but i know you'll fit right in. In fact i know your wack ass would stand out"

You giggled at his comment but you wholeheartedly took his motivation and advice. But the question and thoughts still lingered in your mind as you heard Yoongi chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"But Yoongi, this means we'd be in a long distance relationship, with you going off to study in the opposite direction and all. Even our breaks don't match Yoongi.. what'll we do" the worrying tone in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Yoongi as he answered you in a calm reassuring tone.

"It'll take some work, but i know we can get through this okay? We'll make it, we can make it. I love you" you smiled at Yoongi's voice uttering the sweet words of love as you felt yourself calm your thoughts.

"I love you too Yoongi. Well then, keep me company while i pack?"

"You bet"

It had been a few months since you started dating, and honestly it didn't feel any different from when the two of you were in your phase of friendship, everything was going relatively smooth apart from the little fights and misunderstandings you had now that you were a couple. Sometimes you sit to think to yourself if moving into a relationship with Yoongi was the best choice, it would feel as though sometimes he would act differently and not like he always would but you just shake of the thoughts. You just figured with all these future college studies and intakes coming about that he was just as stressed as you were. You assured yourself that the two of you would be alright and that you'll always have each other.

A few more months pass and the two of you have already started your college lives. Yoongi being in a campus almost 8 hours away from you with minimal transport for him to even go home let alone plan to meet you. It was going smoothly, settling into orientation and getting to know the layouts of the campus well, meeting new friends and truly taking in your next step in education. You and Yoongi would exchange day to day text messages about how orientation and the first days of classes went.

All well and good till Yoongi's texts became slower and less frequent, he would always say that he's busy with his friends there, or straight up not giving a response at all. You became more and more fearful at how this long distance thing was going to work out for the two of you.

28th Tuesday

[12:27am] hey Yoongi! I hope you had a great day, I miss you and hope you sleep well, love you!

[08:40am] Hey Babe, good morning! I'm in class now, wishing we could skip like old times haha, hope you have a great day! Text me soon

[6:48pm] Hey i just got back to my dorm after classes, it was super fun! How was your day??

[8:11pm] Yoongi?? Are you okay? Are you busy babe?

[8:24pm] I miss youuuuuuuu :(

[10:16pm] Yoongi :(

You tossed your phone to the side of your bed as you felt your tears well up, why was he suddenly avoiding you? Is he okay?? Did he get hurt? Your thoughts were spiraling, getting messier till you heard the familiar ping from your phone. You scurried to your phone to see Yoongi's name pop up on the screen. Your smile quickly faded, replaced by disappointment at his reply.

[10:43pm] Hey, was busy with friends today, going to bed now ttyl <3

You frowned and wouldn't let him go this time. The days of short texts to unreplied texts and this is how he replies now? In a fit of fury you call him.

"Hello?-"

"Yoongi what's wrong? You haven't been replying to my texts as usual are you okay??"

"Mmh I'm fine, just busy with classes and my new friends y/n"

"Well I can't accept that answer Yoongi, I'm busy with classes and friend's here too but I take the time so why can't you?"

"Hey it's not that big of a deal y/n, we're in new environments now and it'll take me some time to settle in"

"Yoongi surely you have at least 5 minutes a day to text me??"

"Yeah of course I do, I just texted you didn't i?"

"That short ass reply was what you call a text Yoongi? It really sounds like you're avoiding me"

"You know what y/n I don't have time for this right now I'm tired"

"No Yoongi, I haven't talked to you properly in days come on don't you miss me Yoongi?"

"To be honest I've been enjoying the new company here that's I haven't missed you much"

"What do you mean Yoongi? You don't think of me?"

"Not all the time no, i have other things to think about here y/n i have new responsibilities here I can't be thinking about you all the damn time, just be happy I texted you back"

"Are you threatening to not text me anymore Yoongi? Is that what you're saying? You don't wanna talk to me anymore?"

"Oh god for fucks sake y/n stop being so clingy alright? Just grow up a little!"

The sound of his voice in heightened frustration made you choke on your words, you silenced yourself as his words rang loud in your head.

"You know what y/n I don't think this will work out, I'm going to get even busier and this will just be in the way of it all"

"Yoongi…"

"I'm sorry y/n but clearly this distance is proving that we won't work out"

"Are you... breaking up with me Yoongi?.."

The pain in your voice and the soft shaky exhale doesn't go unnoticed by Yoongi. Yoongi takes a deep breath, realising he spoke too fast in frustration. As much as he did feel for you this distance was tearing you apart and Yoongi didn't want to believe it but it was the truth. He spoke softer this time giving his side of his explanation.

"Y/n, you've been nothing but amazing to me, but I realize that we were more compatible as friends, I mean think about it, we've had so many petty fights that we never had before we dated. Our growing college life will further hinder our relationship. I don't want to hurt you like this by not giving you the love and attention you deserve. I'll always love you y/n, just not as more than friends I suppose"

You couldn't believe what was happening right now, your world felt like it was crashing down on you hard and fast, you could feel the sharp stinging in your chest from how your heart was breaking the more reality hit you. Yoongi's words had reason to them, but you were still in a state of confusion. Why could you make time for Yoongi but he couldn't for you? Maybe it's because the two of you are pursuing different fields of studies? Maybe he really had better things to do? Yoongi didn't want to hurt your feelings by making you feel abandoned so he was in fact abandoning you? No? But he said he'll still love you?? Your head was spinning a bunch of thoughts ran through your head.

"Okay Yoongi...if that's what would be the best for us..then okay"

"Don't worry okay? We'll still text as usual, talk when we can okay? I won't let you go, you're still my best friend y/n"

You didn't know if his words would be comforting enough, but at that moment you took what you had and calmed your thoughts for now.

"Okay Yoongi.."

"Good, I have an early schedule tomorrow. I'll talk to you later okay? I'm going to bed now. Goodnight y/n"

"Good night Yoongi"

-----------------------💔------------------------

As it will, Yoongi and you slowly drifted apart. You would often see his social media updates about how he was actively participating in clubs, and how he had taken up new responsibilities, going to camps and hosting events at his institute and he definitely seemed to be doing well. You on the other hand fell more and more at war with your emotions, it didn't hinder your studies. Thankfully you could keep those two apart. But whenever it got a little too quiet you'd think of him, the days in highschool when you were inseparable. You missed his laugh, his endearing way of calling you the most heinous nicknames. You definitely missed his comforting arms, his words of encouragement when you were down, you wished nothing more that in this moment you were crying to him instead of because of him.

You couldn't believe that you were sitting here, broken and feeling alone by the guy that made his way into your life, and had now made his way out in the most painful way possible. You were left there clueless and confused. Did he do it for you? Was it the right thing? Did he really think of you? Why was this happening? What would have happened if you didn't date? Would things be different? Would your best friend have stayed? All these questions playing through your mind, countless nights you spent crying yourself to sleep. Thinking of how you felt almost betrayed, you cursed at yourself for sending texts to him that were only left on read or replied with a simple "I'm busy, text you later".

Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months as you hadn't spoken much to Yoongi. You became stone hearted from all that had happened and slowly you got back into yourself. You were more and more active in your college life and you were growing to be better at controlling your emotions. Sure some little things remind you of him now and then, but it was much easier by now to brush his thoughts off. As sadly as your situation was you learned to move with it and not let it consume you. Every now and then you'd see Yoongi piston updates on his progressively active life and you'd feel happy for him, you wondered if he ever felt the same for you when he saw your updates on how well you were doing.

----------------------🍃-------------------------

It had been a total of 4 years since everything happened, you were on a roll and you had graduated college. You had a few job applications pending and you were more stable with your life by now. All the questions you once had were stored in a box collection dust in the far corner of your mind.

It was a relaxing Saturday evening, you were in your apartment lounging on your bed. As you were chatting away with your friends a familiar ping aroused from your phone. The name that popped up on the screen made your heart heavy and you breathing shallow, a true ghost from your past…

"Yoongi 🥀"

Your screen read. Taking a deep breath you opened the chat.

[9:57pm] Hey y/n it's been a long time… are you free tonight? Can I call you?

You didn't know what exactly to think right now. Every cell in your brain telling you not to. That you shouldn't give into him again, and that you should just talk to him over text no matter what it was. But your heart was screaming for him, the familiar feeling of longing for him returning in a massive tsunami, washing over your thoughts. You took a deep breath to centre your thoughts and decided you'd listen to him and talk to him again.

[9:59pm] Hey Yoongi, yeah I'm free to talk.

As soon as the message was read by him, your phone rang. You took one more deep breath and answered the call.

"Hello y/n, how are you?"

You cursed in your head at how much you missed his voice, the way he spoke to you at this moment had a hint of the same longing you had for him.

"Hey..Yoongi, I'm good. How are you?"

"I've been good too.. congratulations on graduating"

"Thanks Yoongi, congratulations on graduating too.."

"Thanks…"

The silence that fell had you both reflecting on everything that happened and how fast it all went by. The box of questions in your mind burst out once again whereas Yoongi on the other hand was feeling guilt and hate towards himself for everything that he put you through. Little did you know that these last few months Yoongi was hit with the hard realisation that he had lost not only his best friend but the person he cared about the most. His family certainly did not improve and the one person who was there for him when he needed it, he had left broken hearted and abruptly once he found a new escape. Yoongi was slowly flooded with memories of you as he neared his own college graduation. He remembered your highschool graduation and how he felt for you there in that moment of time. He spent a few nights crying at the realisation that he had thought of what's best for you but didn't think of how you felt and how he had left things between the two of you.

"Why Yoongi…."

Was all you managed to say out loud before your emotions caved in. Understanding what you were asking he answered.

"I was so caught up in the new environment of growing up and moving on that I did what I thought was the best to not hurt you...but I didn't think far enough that doing so will indeed hurt you.. and I wasn't there for you like i was supposed to. It took a hard hit to my head to realise that I was wrong y/n… you were always there for me and stupidly I made this mistake… I thought i was thinking of the best for both of us, when in fact i was thinking of myself.. I was selfish and I realised that…so many things reminded me of you y/n, the clouds, the sun, the sight of roses, the smell of hot cheetos.."

You giggled a little at his last comment earning a little muffled one from Yoongi.

"I understand if you hate me for what I did to you y/n… and I don't know if it'll ever be the same between us again.. but I'm willing to try to bring back what we had... if you're willing to give me a chance…"

You exhaled softly before letting out everything that you've been feeling.

"I don't hate you Yoongi, I never could and I never will. You're everything to me Yoongi and I was just really hurt by what you did and how you ended things. So many thoughts went through my head and I won't even talk about how much you made me cry….you dipshit" the playful cursing nickname made Yoongi chuckle a little, slowly making him feel reassured at the directions of the conversation.

"I'm willing to give us a chance Yoongi..and you're right, I don't expect it to be the same as what we had, I just hate that I lost my best friend.."

"I know..i understand that..and I'm sorry..for everything"

"It's okay Yoongi, I'm sorry too… maybe I should've been more understanding…"

"Hey… do you.. wanna hang out Tomorrow night?"

"You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, i wanna see you and catch up with you"

"Sure Yoongi that'd be nice"

"Great!! I'll meet you at the café by our old highschool?"

"Sure Yoongi, sounds great"

"Right then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow Yoongi"

You could hear the smiles in each other's voices as you both bid goodnight and hung up the phone. You didn't know what it was exactly but you knew just from that phone call that everything was going to be alright. You felt like you breathed much easier now, your mind much lighter. Yoongi felt the same, he was smiling more now filled with the excitement of meeting you again tomorrow after years.

-----------------------✨------------------------

You made sure to check yourself out in the mirror a few more times before heading towards the café. You had chosen to wear a simple yet stylish outfit, your hair tied back in a low loose ponytail, your short hairs framing your face. You were nervous yet excited to be reunited with your best friend again. And as you approach the café, there he was. Standing outside the door of the café waiting for you. The now slightly more mature looking, dark fluffy haired man, wearing a long black coat was looking just as nervous and excited as he was looking down at his feet.

"I didn't know you needed glasses to see now"

your voice made him turn his head fast in your direction. The moment his gaze landed on you, it felt like highschool all over again. The way you looked standing there, just centimetres away from him. He took in your slightly matured face yet he told himself that you hadn't changed one bit.

"It's official, you're old Yoongi"

He chuckled and playfully scoffed at your comment.

"Well at least i don't dress like the satanic spawn of depression and hot cheetos"

"Sure thing Mr. I'm still a millennial emo teen"

The two of you laughed, and the world seemed to slow down. The feeling that nothing ever really changed between the two of you was knowing, however this time something felt entirely different. Both of you could feel it for sure. It was the feeling of a bond stronger than both friendship and love. You didn't know what the feeling was exactly, all that you knew was that you're never losing each other again. All this while you've been sitting there watching the feelings you had burn and crash in the worst way possible, but today right here at this café, right in front of your eyes you watched everything Begin Again.

[mintchanniemint]

pairing: [still friends] bassist!chan x (fem)reader wordcount:  ~3.3k taglist: @100797-bc - @chansrms

[08:45 a.m]

"...So, since everyone seems ready and excited for this new project that involves more departments of our university, I think it's time to start! Be careful, everyone! And make sure to share all your thoughts with each other!" 

A wave of "yes, Prof." slowly lit up in the huge auditorium as every student sounded both tired and bored. You had to admit you strangely didn't really hate this project, you probably had to do worse things, like that time you ended up doing a cooking project and nearly poisoned that girl from the History Department. Whenever you reminded yourself of that little incident, you always made sure not to see her, not even accidentally in the college restrooms. But this time, the project not only sounded a bit safer, but you even ended up in a group with a certain someone. And that was the only reason why that morning you didn't fall asleep while the professor was giving you the guidelines and instructions for your tasks.  The project was related to the school systems around the world, and how they differed from each other, analysed under specific views. You were assigned a not-really-exciting topic, which was School Uniforms.  Now, you had to admit you felt quite lucky the university you were attending didn't force its students to have a uniform to wear, but just the thought of having to learn how to tie a tie made you fall asleep on the spot. 

"Hey."

Your train of thoughts got brutally interrupted by a way too familiar voice as you finally looked around, a bit confused, noticing that the hall was nearly empty. You looked in the direction of the voice that got your attention, to see a way too sleep deprived Bang Chan in front of you.  You couldn't help but giggle a bit, he sat down on the seat right in front of yours, crossing his arms on the chair and plopping his chin on them.  He looked at you for a couple of seconds, in silence, before slowly closing his eyes. 

"You really look like a cat, sometimes." You whispered with a smile, your hand automatically reaching his soft curls, playing with a brown strand of hair with two fingers. 

Wait… brown? 

"Chan, when did you dye your hair?" The alarm in your voice nearly made you sound a bit too concerned and he quickly looked at you, his eyes half open. 

"A couple of kids told me that I had to have a nice hair color for the project-" He then closed his eyes again, his head pushing a bit against your hand, as if asking you to keep playing with his hair. 

"They were so serious about it, but my red hair dye is not so cheap to be covered by some brown color so I just used some hair color spray." 

You looked at him, biting your lip trying your best not to burst out laughing. 

"Yes, that's such a Chan thing for you to do…" You mumbled to yourself, your voice clearly highlighting a smile on your lips. He hummed in response, probably asking you what you meant by that.  You shook your head and stood up, getting your bag from the seat next to yours. 

"C'mon, bass boy, we need to go and try the uniforms!" You said, trying to sound as exciting as possible, hoping to somehow give some life to that sleepyhead in front of you. 

"There's a reason why I always skip morning lectures." He mumbled, yawning and keeping his back on his shoulder. He followed you as you walked through the hallways of your department, not too familiar to him. 

"They said this is the class, right?" 

"Were you listening while that professor was assigning the classrooms to each group?" 

"Nah… not really." 

"Me neither." 

The both of you just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, as if mentally screaming and asking what to do if you got the wrong class.  Luckily enough, though, the door before you suddenly opened, revealing a black haired guy wearing round glasses, and a taller girl right behind him. They both looked at you, then the girl checked a pile of papers in her hands, nodding, and suddenly they smiled at you. 

"Welcome! We were waiting for you!"  The guy exclaimed, taking a couple of steps back and letting you and Chan enter the classroom.  It was empty, some desks were occupied by big boxes with black, confusing scribblings scribblings on them. 

"Those are the uniforms we are going to try, hopefully the sizes are gonna be fine! We thank you for submitting your essays and researching about school uniforms from various countries. Even though yours…" The guy mumbled, checking some of the papers the girl gave him, as he looked at Chan.  "... was submitted two minutes before the deadline. But we appreciate the effort! You also followed our little advice about your hair! " The girl interrupted her friend, trying not to make him say anything way too harsh. She smiled at Chan, getting his usual cold stare in response, which left her a bit confused. 

"Uh… yeah he really cares about this stuff, guys! Chan is just… not really good at expressing himself with words, yeah!"  You swiftly entered the little conversation too, probably making it worse since as a consequence you only got an embarrassing silence and four pairs of eyes looking at you. 

"Can we please see the uniforms now?"  You quickly whispered, nearly tripping over your own words as you felt your own mind screaming for five whole seconds. 

"Sure! Some students have already tried the uniforms they mentioned in their own essays and they're getting ready to take photos! We're really ambitious for this project!" 

"And we're sure that the magazine of this project will turn out amazing with our photos! Seungmin is gonna make you shine like models." 

They looked like those cartoon characters that completed each other's sentences, you couldn't help but find them a bit funny, though. Seeing them being so enthusiastic about this project made you feel a bit guilty too, since ten minutes earlier you were literally planning an escape with your fake-brown haired friend in case you didn’t get the right classroom.

You smiled at the two students in front of you and grabbed Chan by his arm, guiding him to a box on which you recognized your names were scribbled on with a black marker.  Other students, definitely more responsible than you and Chan fused together, told you about the stuff you had to do. It was quite simple: go to the improvised changing rooms, wear the uniform, take pictures. Write about your general thoughts and impressions of the project at the end of the day.  You just hoped Chan grasped all that, as he looked like he probably would have fallen asleep in the changing room. It didn't matter that much, you would have definitely helped him anyway. 

You two were given three uniforms, and since there would have been lunch break in a couple of hours, the students of your group were asked to wear one of those uniforms.  You didn't really understand why, but thinking about how other students had probably ended up in groups where they were supposed to cook, you felt quite lucky and didn't want to complain at all. 

Chan was given his first uniform to try, and he walked to the changing rooms to try it on quickly.  The photographer was taking quite some time taking those photos, and you didn't have to try the uniforms yet, since many other students were already waiting in line for the shoot. You just stood there, leaning on the wall, waiting for the moment Chan would have finally left that improvised changing room.  Suddenly, the black curtain moved and a not so amused Chan made his amazing appearance: he was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, a tie on his right hand.  He looked at you as he walked closer to you, and left the green and red tie on your hand. 

"I don't know how to do this."  He mumbled, as he finished buttoning his shirt up.  You looked at the piece of cloth in your hands and took a deep breath. 

"I don't know either but… Let's try, I guess?"  You mumbled in response as you brought the tie around his neck, trying your best to seem like you knew what you were doing.  Because of the little task you were asked to do, you had to get closer to Chan.  You could feel his calm, relaxed breath gently hitting your face as your eyes were completely focused on that tie. Suddenly you felt his hand resting on your waist when you finally figured out how to make that tie look presentable for the shoot. You felt quite proud of the result and, not minding too much about Chan's hand on your waist, you dragged him to the photoshoot corner. 

A cherry-red haired guy was there, a black bag right next to him, by his feet, as he was giving instructions about posing to a girl right in front of him. He then got his camera and, making sure everything was perfect, a loud "click" was heard. 

"Let's take a couple more. So we can, eventually, choose the best one!"  He smiled, getting a thumbs up by the girl who was temporarily his model.  Seungmin, hoping you got his name right, seemed quite professional, and it took you literally seconds to guess he was from the Arts Department. You felt quite out of place for a good minute, everyone around you seemed like they were genuinely interested in that project and then there was you, who didn't stay home just because that grumpy, quiet cat-owner sent that essay last minute and automatically made you want to go just to spend the day with him. 

Wow, that's embarrassing… And quite lame.

You shook your head, trying to let that thought drift off, when you suddenly heard someone call your name, announcing that you were able to try some of the uniforms you were assigned. You had to leave Chan's side, and you had to admit it felt way warmer when you had his arm around your waist. 

"It's my turn! Gotta go." 

"Make sure to button up the shirt properly." 

"Oh shut up."  You stuck your tongue out at him and you walked away, not before getting a gentle, quick squeeze on your waist by Chan, though. 

Okay, let's be honest. Both of us are embarrassing and lame… 

You mentally rolled your eyes at your own thoughts and quickly walked across the room to get your uniform, and headed towards the changing room.  You didn't have any problems trying the clothes on, the trousers felt quite comfortable and you also liked how pretty the colors were. You looked at your reflection on the mirror, which was probably lent by the drama club, and quietly wondered which country's school that was supposed to be. You didn't really remember, even though you were literally the one who wrote about it in that essay, but you just shrugged it off and left the changing room, your eyes quickly landing on the little photoshoot corner. 

It was Chan's turn, and that girl wasn't lying at all when she said that Seungmin was going to make everyone feel like a model. You nearly got caught staring at him and quickly walked closer to the queue of people standing, waiting for their turn to take photos.  Seungmin seemed not to let your friend go, he probably found a good subject to photograph. He took photos of him in at least four different poses when he usually asks for two poses per student. 

Chan left the spot with a small nod and walked away, leaving a satisfied Seungmin checking all the photos taken with his camera. Your friend quickly found you and walked closer to you, his eyes scanning the uniform you were wearing. 

"Looks nice."  He mumbled, one hand in the pocket of his trousers, the other one reaching a strand of hair that escaped from your ponytail. 

"Oh well, thank you school president."  You teased him with a smirk, before distractedly playing with his tie. 

As it was finally your turn to take the photos, you couldn't help but feel Chan's gaze constantly on you. Seungmin made you feel at ease in a matter of seconds and you had to admit the shots were really pretty. He clearly was working so hard to make everyone shine in those uniforms.  You thanked him with a smile and, followed by Chan, walked closer to those boxes containing other school uniforms.  You had to try three other pieces before the big clock on the wall finally signed that it was lunch break.  You were relieved half of the day had finally passed, but then you remembered you had to stay in that uniform you had just put on for the following two hours. 

"The last time I wore a uniform for school was ages ago!" 

"Wouldn't it be ten minutes ago?" 

"Chan, c’mon."  You sighed, exasperated, as you got your lunchbox from your bag and walked to the cafeteria with your friend.  You noticed the uniform he was wearing only when the two of you sat down at a table and looked at each other for a fraction of seconds. 

He was wearing a black turtleneck and a white shirt on it, his trousers were dark and looked more comfortable than the ones he had to wear for the second shoot. 

"What." 

Uh oh… caught staring… 

"Oh, nothing! It's just… well, at least you don't have to wear a tie, hm?"  You cleared your throat and looked around, your mind in complete alarm mode. 

What an idiot. 

Chan, in response, nodded and opened his lunchbox. Meaning that his whole interest was now on the food in front of him.  You sighed in relief, you both loved and hated how naive that guy was. Definitely a double-edged sword. You shook your head at those thoughts and quickly opened your lunchbox, enjoying your meal and Chan's company for lunch. 

"You know…"  You said, between some bites. "Don't we look like high school students?"  Your lips quickly curved into a silly smirk. 

Chan looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  "Isn't that part of the project-" 

"No, Chan, I mean! Doesn't… this! Make you wonder what high school life would have been like if we were, you know, classmates-”

"Not really." 

"Absolutely no fun."  You pouted, your little rainbow-colored dream was completely destroyed before it could have even reached its completion because of Chan's straightforwardness. 

The two of you chatted a bit after finishing your lunch and, since you had quite some time before returning to your team's classroom, you decided to go for a walk in the huge hallways of the university.  You didn't feel as uncomfortable as you thought you would a few hours earlier; the uniform you were wearing was quite nice and warm too, and you were glad Chan had brought a scarf that morning, since you forgot yours at home because you were in a hurry.  Even though he probably didn't even agree on that, you were wearing his scarf as you were walking down the hallways.  Many students greeted you and way too many people were literally staring at Chan. You raised your eyebrows at the guy next to you, wondering exactly what they were so fascinated about. 

Just wait till he opens your mouth, everyone. 

You lightly giggled at your own thought, finding your mind funnier than usual when suddenly you walked past a group of students that stopped you.  Specifically, that stopped Chan.  You were a few steps back, looking at them quietly as some of them, definitely freshmen, gave Chan a few little pieces of paper.  As the group of younger students walked away, Chan looked at you, his eyes literally filled with question marks. 

"Wow Chan, you show up for morning lectures once and the whole Literature department falls for you."  You commented with a dry laugh as you walked closer to him, checking the little notes in his hand. He shrugged and put them in the pocket of his trousers, leaving you speechless for a second. 

" Wait, you're not throwing them away?"

"No, what if they actually need some tutoring." 

"Chan are you serious-" 

He looked at you for a second, his fake brown hair slightly touching his eyes.  You sighed and shook your head, looking away for a second, when suddenly a huge thought hit you like a train. 

What was that? You really couldn't tell, but something was burning. You felt annoyed.  By what?  You really didn't know how to explain it.  What was that for?  You had to calm down, those were just random phone numbers on a piece of paper, it wasn’t like that guy was going to contact them anyway.  … right? 

Breathe. Take a deep breath, you really need it before you do something dumb. Don't be dumb, don't be dumb, he's just a friend after all, he can do whatever he wants. Do not do anything dumb.

"Are you okay?"  His usual, dull voice interrupted your thoughts for a second, making you notice you were actually holding quite tight on the scarf that was gently keeping you warm. 

Your eyes finally met him, and you stayed silent. Complete silence. For at least five seconds. Your mind was running, gosh it was sprinting. From one thought to the other.  And that weird burning was growing, and growing, and growing inside you.  Your eyes were analyzing every single detail of his face. His brown eyes, that weird dye that was covering his usual beautiful dark red hair, his plump, full lips, that black turtleneck. And again, his eyes, his lips, his hair, his turtleneck, the ears that were usually adorned with beautiful earrings that were now completely bare.  

And again, his eyes, lips, the turtleneck, his hair… 

When suddenly, your hands moved before your mind could even realize that. You grabbed him by his arm. That was completely normal, you literally had always done that. But that time, that time you were dragging him to a small, quiet corner, far from those annoying and busy hallways. You were now in a small hallway, near two broken vending machines and an emergency exit. 

"What is wrong with you?"  He mumbled, his voice clearly expressing his confusion. You said nothing, you just pinned him against the wall, his hands quickly finding their way on your waist, and you looked at him straight in the eyes. 

Your hand reached the collar of his black turtleneck, pulling it down with not much delicacy and your lips softly met his warm, sweet skin. He squeezed your waist as you angrily, but lightly, bit his neck, making sure to leave at least a small mark. You took a step back and looked at it for a second before fixing quickly both his turtleneck and shirt. Your eyes slowly met his, and moved to look at his cheeks, who were tinted in a light, pastel red color. 

"Please don't contact any of them."  You whispered, unexpectedly out of breath due to the adrenaline rush.  You didn't let him say nor do anything, you just took a few more steps back before walking away in a rush, headed to the classroom. 

Now. 

… 

What the hell did I just do?!

[heli0s-writes]

The Thief

Summary: Where do all of Bucky’s shirts keep disappearing to?  Pairing: Reader x Bucky A/N: 2.1k word count. Silliness, fluff. Posters from the fic LOL

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

Bucky is missing another shirt on Saturday morning. He rifles through his closet, slapping the hangers to the left and down the pole where they clack against each other fearfully. Last week, this happened too. His favorite red Henley with the threadbare hem and black buttons— all day he had searched for it until—

Oh.

With a slightly exasperated groan and a backwards tilt of his head, he closes the closet door. Quietly, he slips out of his room and down the silent hallway until the chatter of voices from the kitchen meets his ears.

Wilson stands at the stove top, flipping pancakes the size of plates— heavy, thick, wheat ones, overloaded with blueberries. Steve is to his side, pouring milk and stealing fruit when Sam isn’t looking. Natasha is perched on the counter, sipping black coffee.

And then, his eyes skip over to the dining table where a pair of delicate feet are propped up on the glass, toes tapping off-beat to a tuneless song.

You.

No matter how many times Tony and Steve tell you to stop putting your feet on the table, you still do— almost out of spite and with glee. You match Steve in stubbornness and Sam in annoying-ness. You’re just a step behind Natasha when it comes to acting, too. The combination could be lethal if you weren’t such a lawless brat, squandering your talents on petty revenge.

You’re leaned back in the chair, comic book in hand with a silly lopsided smile and your hair tied in the messiest of buns. Strands loop out from the elastic, flop against your ear pathetically. There is a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of your mouth, and when you lick your dry lips, you lick it away too.

“Hey, when are those pannies ready?” You ask over the line of the glossed book.

“Don’t call them panties! And don’t rush perfection!” Sam hollers back.

“Okay…” You try again, “When are those pancakies ready?”

“Pan-cakes.” Steve sends over his shoulder, “Pancakes. One word, two syllables, no ‘y’ at the end.”

“Uh. It’s I and E, sir.” And when Steve sighs in displeasure, you tug the collar of the shirt over the bridge of your nose and hide your snickering inside. You pop a finger in your mouth and flip the page, leaving a wet round print on the edge. Tony is going to kill you when he finds out that you are desecrating his rare collection with spit.

With a snort and shake of his head, Bucky runs his hand through his bangs and walks up next to the table. “Huh.” He mumbles, finger rubbing the sleeve spilling from your shoulder, threatening to flood all the way down to your elbow. The specked brown fabric, slightly pilled is familiar beneath the pads of his thumb.

The very one he was searching for this morning. That timeworn thing, half falling apart because it’s been so many times washed.

“This looks familiar.”

“This?” You ask, eyes wide, “Is it— is it yours? Aw jeez, Barnes. I found it in the laundry room. It just looked so comfy.” One foot scratches the other and the shirt rides up your legs and folds against your stomach. Your rub the fabric against your collarbone, shifting it side to side, and the middle falls in-between your breasts, outlining the shape of you.

He has to bite down on his cheek to stop his next expression, but hums a noise of surprise anyway, “Wonder how it got in there.”

You shrug and blush, give him a fake demure smile before scooting your chair back and heading over to grab food. He follows lazily behind, watches the hem swing at the top of your thighs, a tiny inch of your athletic shorts peeks out underneath. You’re ridiculous, he thinks.

“Yummy yummy yummy, get into into my tummy.” You pull three pancakes onto your plate and Steve glares at the way you use your fingers even though there is a fork in your other hand.

“Your germs are gonna go into my tummy.”

Shocked, you press three bent fingertips to your sternum, “Captain, sir! It’s called a stomach! Two syllables. No Y!”

Steve follows your hand with a wry smile, then the slightest tilt of his head happens as he narrows his eyes on your chest.

“Captain Rogers, are you checking out my tit-tats?”

With a stutter, Steve flushes and turns around, busies himself with getting his own pancakes. Everyone else follows suit and soon enough the dining table is seated with all five, pouring syrup and cutting fluffy stacks into smaller pieces.

To his right, Bucky watches you roll up a pancake like a log and dunk it into a lake of syrup you’ve squirted on your plate. With your mouth full, you take your fork and steal a triangle from him. Syrup dribbles onto your— his shirt.

“We literally have the same food.” he complains.

“But… yours is better; Wilson put more love into yours. I think he put fingernails in mine.”

Across the table, Natasha smirks, “Arsenic, maybe.”

“Actually,” Sam corrects, “It’s rat poison.”

Behind another log dripping with syrup and melted butter, you grin and waggle your eyebrows at Sam, tongue slipping out beneath the roll to lap the dripping syrup away. Bucky kicks you under the table, a quiet reminder to stop being so obnoxious.

Instead of heeding his advice, you shove the rest of the sticky tube into your mouth and choke a little.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, turning away from where you are pounding on the table and coughing. “You dead?”

“Rest in damn pieces.” Sam adds.

Steve continues to stare suspiciously as you press your cheek to the glass surface and catch your breath.

You’re going to drive him crazy, he thinks.

He hides the smile behind a cut of pancake and a swig of coffee. A few more bites and he loads his plate into the dishwasher, returning to his room to take a shower, even thanking Sam for breakfast without an insult. Wilson looks after him curiously but takes the compliment where he can get it.

On his way back to his room, Bucky stops by the familiar door decorated with a single poster you printed off in the lab—a kitschy and poorly edited photograph of Sam with a rainbow-colored clown wig over his head, not even fully covering his hair. Underneath his torso are the words Sam Wilson Local Dumbass.

You had made it after a mission where Sam’s wing clipped your shoulder and your gun went off into a gas tank, blowing out half the floor. It’s been almost half a year and you still haven’t taken the poster down—vowing not to change it until the year passes. Petty revenge, Bucky scoffs to himself.

Bucky pushes past the door and yanks open your closet, staring at the piles of shirts and shorts, mountains of pants and dresses you’ve never worn. On top of each heap are a million pairs of panties, like you just grab your laundry basket and throw it in. You probably do. The doors are always shut probably because you have the object permanence of an infant and if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, too.

He laughs when he sees the assorted hangers on the pole, varying sizes and some bent completely out of shape. There are precisely four, neatly aligned next to each other, out of place with the rest of the disordered space.

His hand reaches up to tug on the familiar red Henley he found last week over your torso as you sat watching a movie with Natasha. You had tied an elastic band to the bottom of it, the tiniest sliver of your hip showing beneath.

Next to the red is a gray long-sleeve. Next to that is a cream-colored shirt he hardly wears but you mentioned one night that you liked seeing him in lighter colors. Ironic that you’d steal it from him, then.

At the end of the row, folded neatly over the bar of a plastic green hanger, is a single pair of his black boxers and he nearly hisses when he yanks it off in mortification.

“What?” Your voice calls from the doorway, ���They’re clean.”

“Jesus! Why do you have these?”

A wide grin stretches over your mouth, “I wear ‘em to sleep sometimes. Mostly when you’re not here.”

“Darlin’, you got your own clothes.” Bucky smiles, wishing he could genuinely find your antics annoying and not so damn cute. Walking forward, his fingers reach under your shirt where the smooth plane of your stomach starts, other hand moving over your head to push the door close. “It’s hard to keep a secret when you’re so obvious about it.”

You whine, bratty again, and he shuts up the noise with a press of his mouth over yours, “It was only fun for like, two months.” You mutter into his mouth, “But really, Buck. Everyone here is so oblivious that we could probably fuck on the conference table and they wouldn’t notice.”

A strangled breath falls out of his mouth, “We- we haven’t—f—” He can’t even bring himself to say it, because unfortunately, he is so stupidly shy when it comes to you. “D-don’t say f...” His face burns red and he attempts to look at anything else but your devious smile as you tap a finger over the band of his sweatpants.

“Fuck?” You laugh, “Fucky-fuck-fuck, Bucky-Buck-Buck.”

Then, quick as a whip, you leap up and lock your ankles around his waist, knees splayed out to his sides. Automatically, his hands catch underneath your bottom. Three months of secretly dating and all he’s done is kiss you senseless in utility closets. And now you’re saying… Jesus.

You’re going to kill him, he thinks.

Leaning back, you almost pitch out of his hold but then you stop yourself and slowly shrug the shirt—his shirt from your torso. “You wanna, right? Three months, Bucko. You’re playing a slow burn game that I am not good at.” You grin and drop the shirt onto the floor, the sight of your bare skin turning his entire body hot. “Bucky…!” You whine loudly, bouncing in his arms, “Come on!”

He groans at the way you shift against his groin and thinks fuck it. If you kill him, it’ll be a good thing. Rest in damn good pieces. Bucky sighs and tilts forward, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. “Baby, you’re so—”

The door slams open and you yelp, falling out of Bucky’s hands and onto the floor on your back. “What the fuck!”

Steve is pointing, wide triumphant grin across his face, “I knew it! I knew that shirt looked familiar!” Bucky pitches forward, covers your bare chest with his body and nearly crushes you underneath.

“You fucking perv, Steve! Stop trying to look at my tit-tats!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve cries, turning around. Bucky kicks the door shut with his foot as you continue to curse out Steve on the other side of the door. With an amused sigh at the way your nose scrunches up as you hurl insults, he presses his nose to your collarbone again, licks away the stain of syrup you’d dropped earlier on yourself.

--

He wakes up in your empty bed around noon, groggy and a little confused as to why you’re suddenly gone. Disappointment and fear sparks in his chest at the thought of his lonely state. Was it bad? Maybe this is how you’re breaking up with him. Fuck—was it that bad?

Bucky slowly gets up, slips on his sweatpants from the earlier morning and scoops his clothes into his arms, mind set on clearing out his belongings from your room if the relationship is truly over, not even bothering to put a shirt on.

The hallway isn’t empty this time—down the walkway you are crouched with something in your hand in front of Natasha’s room, but you pay him no mind. Bucky tucks his clothing under his arm, turning around to close your door before his eyes catch sight of what’s been newly taped to it.

An enormous poster decorates the plain paint. Steve’s face is blown up and touches each corner. Over his eyes you’ve photoshopped two enormous breasts and under his chin are the words: Steve Rogers, Local Pervert.

Bucky sputters before a loud howling laughter tears itself from his throat as he pitches over to hold himself up on the door frame. It’s obscene—the petty revenge, it’s your worst one yet. He’s really going to fall in love with you, he thinks.

Down the hallway, you look over and grin at him, taping yet another poster to someone else’s door. Over your torso, again, as always, is his shirt.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 1

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

genre: angst, thriller, romance

pairing: han jisung ( stray kids) x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mild language, mature themes + violence

description: when your best friend Felix sets you up on a blind date with adorable medical student Han Jisung, you find yourself falling for his sweet words and dark eyes, and the even darker secrets he hides behind his charming, angelic smile.

watch the trailer here!

1 | blind date

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, but today it was nearly deserted: just you, two students studying in a booth across the room, and an old man reading what seemed to be a newspaper upside-down in the corner. A lone waitress was stacking clean milkshake glasses behind the counter.

It was raining hard outside, the drops sounding like impatient fingers tapping at the window beside you. As you peered through the glass, you caught a glimpse of a boy on a rusty bike, waiting to cross the street. Yang Jeongin, you recognized -- the delivery boy. A silver Walkman was tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, his lips mouthing the words to a song, a halo of dripping blonde hair sticking out from underneath his hood. He was smiling, despite the fact that it was pouring buckets, and he’d likely been up doing deliveries since 6 in the morning. Yang Jeongin was always smiling.

The light flashed red, traffic halted, and the delivery boy sped away. 

Turning your attention back to the empty seat in front of you, you sighed.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

Your mind was running over all the ways you were going to give Felix hell when you saw him in class tomorrow; how you were going to explain to him that you’d been stood up on the blind date he’d arranged for you. 

“You know what they call me? The Matchmaker of Miroh Heights. Has a nice ring to it, huh?”

You’d groaned as your best friend wiggled his eyebrows. Felix loved playing wingman. As the school photographer and a talented journalism major, he was the one who came up with the “Cutest Couples” section in the campus newspaper -- photoshoots and candid shots of pairings, most of which he’d set up. Still, you’d never thought that his...work...would extend to you.

It had been a while since you’d entertained the notion of love. You’d had your fair share of unrequited crushes and relationships that had not-so-pleasant endings, so the moment you’d enrolled into college and the workload had swept up your entire schedule, you’d left love on the backburner. You kept telling yourself that the right person would come at the right time -- but Felix seemed to have other ideas.

“Let’s see...Hyojong? Ah, no, I forgot -- he’s taken by that pretty senior. Lucky bastard.” He huffed. “Or...Seungcheol? Nah, doesn’t seem your type. Ah!” He snapped his fingers, making you jump. “I know!”

“Felix, for the last damn time -- I don’t need a boyfriend right now.”

“Just one date? Please?” The blond boy hung up the last photo, a mischievous glint in his eyes visible even in the dark room. “I know a great guy -- health sciences major and everything. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I’m a psychology major, ‘Lix. I don’t know -- you know I’m no good at blind dates--” you caught sight of his puppy-dog expression, and sighed in defeat. “Fine! Fine. What’s his name, then?”

The school journalist flashed an impish grin. “Han Jisung.”

Han Jisung.

He was the reason why you were here, sat in a near-empty diner on a rainy Sunday afternoon, waiting for a date to show up while a pile of psychology coursework waited for you back at home. 

Maybe he couldn’t make it, you told yourself -- it was pouring buckets outside. Maybe it was better to swallow your hopes and head back. Biting your lip, you pulled out your phone, tapping on Jisung’s contact (courtesy of Felix) and typing. 

New Message

Hey, I’m y/n! I’m really sorry, but I had to leave.

Your finger hovered over the Send button, hesitating. What if he was on his way? Or got caught in traffic? Still, it had been over thirty minutes…

You were so caught up in your dilemma that you barely registered the sound of the diner door swinging open, and the sound of wet footsteps squeaking until they stopped at your booth.

“Hello!”

You nearly threw your phone into the face of the boy who had spoken, his hand shooting out to catch it before it fell to the floor. Drenched from head to toe from the rain -- cheeks flushed and breathing hard as if he’d been running, dark hair falling in his wide eyes, lips spread in a breathless smile -- was your date. 

His other hand was hidden behind his back as he handed your phone back to you, cool fingers grazing yours as your eyes met. 

Well, shit.

He was absolutely, devastatingly, adorable.

“O-oh, hi!” You stammered. “You’re…”

“Jisung,” he finished for you. “Han Jisung.” He glanced at the empty seat in front of you. “May I…”

“Yeah, of course!” Your heart rate was steadily increasing, and you wanted to slap yourself. It’s just a blind date, y/n, stop getting your hopes up--

Your gaze fell on the hand he was still hiding behind his back as he slid into the booth. Noticing your stare, Jisung slowly and sheepishly pulled out a small bouquet of roses.They were an unusual colour -- a faint, peachy pink rather than the conventional ruby red. 

They were also falling apart, clusters of wrinkled petals dripping and blown askew from the wind and rain, no doubt. 

“They’re for you. I mean, I completely understand if you don’t want them, it’s just--I passed a florist’s on the way here, but it started raining, and--”

“I love them,” you blurted, and, seeing Jisung raise an eyebrow, you giggled. “I really do.” 

You gingerly took the misshapen bouquet from his hands, bringing the flowers to your face and breathing in softly. They smelled pleasantly of petrichor, and something else faint yet sweet.

Jisung watched you, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re -- really pretty.”

You felt the blood rush to your face, your tongue tying into knots and betraying you oncemore. “O-oh,” you squeaked, “th-thank you?”

He chuckled as the waitress came to take your orders for drinks and food.

As she left, Jisung’s gaze wandered around the vintage movie posters, records, and other retro paraphernalia that decorated the diner’s interior. “This place is something else.” 

“Right? Every time I come here, I think I’ve stepped into a movie. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Dirty Dancing--” you blushed. “Sorry. I probably sound like a nerd.” 

Jisung turned back to you. “Don’t apologize. What’s your favourite kind of movie? Rom-coms?”

“Psychological thrillers, actually,” you admitted shyly. Good gosh, that intense stare in Han Jisung’s eyes was making your heart do somersaults in your chest. “But romcoms are not far behind.”

He hummed in approval, an odd glint in his eyes. “So you’re into psychology?”

“Well, I’m majoring in psychology, so I kind of have to be -- although it’s been pretty hard on me as of late.” You sighed, suddenly remembering the mountain of final assignments weighing on your shoulders.

Jisung leaned in closer, resting his chin on his hands. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just--my final project.They’re testing our ability to communicate with and analyze a patient,” you explained. “Kind of like a therapist simulation. We’re supposed to find someone and, like, apply psychological concepts by giving them mock counselling over the course of a few months. And by the end of it, we have to write a conclusive report on their mental state. I can’t find anyone who’s willing to be my patient, which honestly makes sense -- it’s such an invasive topic.”

Jisung was silent for a long moment, dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he sat up a little straighter, cocking his head to the side. “I could be your patient.”

You blinked, mouth falling open. “Wha--are you sure? I mean, you really don’t have to--and it might take up a lot of your time--”

“I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you,” he replied, eyes glinting, and your heart skipped a beat. 

“R-really?” You could already feel an incredulous, relieved smile spreading on your blushing face.

Jisung chuckled. “Just to see you smile like that, trust me -- I’d do anything.”

You were infinitely grateful that at that moment, the waitress arrived with your food. You weren’t sure your face could get any redder. You knew you were a hopeless romantic at heart, and had told yourself time and time again not to be swayed by sweet talk, but this was...different. There was something genuinely sweet in Jisung’s words -- he said them so honestly, with an almost childlike simplicity. 

You sipped your drink in a feeble attempt to regain composure. “My turn to ask the questions. What’s your favourite food?”

“Cheesecake,” Jisung replied instinctively. You watched him bite into his burger and giggled at the way his round eyes widened even more before he practically inhaled the rest.

“Favourite season?”

“Winter.”

“Least favourite colour?”

Jisung froze, a weighted silence falling over the table. He swallowed, hard, before replying quietly, “Red.”

When you peered at his face, you felt an icy chill trickle down your spine. His warm brown eyes had darkened and grown impossibly wide, and the colour had drained from his cheeks. Had you said something wrong? You looked down at your clothes -- a soft, oversized beige cardigan and light blue jeans.

“W-well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing red, then, huh?”

“No.” Jisung shook his head slowly, and his shaky gaze met yours. You felt your mouth go dry at how lost his eyes seemed -- bottomless pools of pitch black. “No, I’m sure you would still look pretty in red.”

As if on cue, your cheeks turned a bright cherry hue.

Deciding to change the topic, you cleared your throat. “What about dogs? Do you like dogs?”

Almost as quickly as it had come, the dark look vanished from his face. “I love dogs!”

By the time the waitress brought the bill, Jisung had you in stitches over a joke he’d made, and you’d long forgotten about the whole ordeal.

The rain had stopped when you two stepped outside. Behind the knitted clouds, the sun was setting, its rays of light seeping through the stormy sky like veins in marble. Jisung’s features were painted a soft gold, warm eyes sparkling as he turned around to face you. His hair was a strange colour, you noted -- under the dim lights of the diner, it had appeared a light brown, but now that you were in the sunlight, it looked more blond. It had also been dripping wet, soaked from sweat or rain or both after running all the way to you, but it had dried off now, the ends curling in his eyes.

Maybe you’d had one dose of sugar too many in your drink, because you suddenly found yourself wanting to touch it. So you did just that, fingers reaching for the soft, fluffy golden locks and ruffling them playfully. Jisung’s eyes held yours the entire time, his gaze questioning. 

You huffed. “You’re cute, okay?”

He broke into a smile that made your heart flutter. “Okay.” 

Cheeks blazing at your own sudden boldness, you quickly pulled your hand away, fingers lightly grazing the side of his cheek before you stepped back. “I--I’m gonna get going now. Thanks for a great time!”

“Of course. See you next time?” Jisung winked, handing you the bouquet of peach roses.

“S-see you!” With that, you turned and practically ran across the street, heart still threatening to leap out of your chest as you fought the butterflies in your stomach and the smile sneaking onto your face.

Behind you, Jisung’s face darkened, smile slipping from his lips as you disappeared from his sight.

[hisakata-resutomoshibi]

Not to bother you, but I've been wondering what would happen next in that Inner Demon! Kuro au. It randomly popped into my head and now im curious lol. I'm not asking for another chapter if you dont want to write it, I just wanna know what u think would happen next! Your ideas are amazing and I love hearing from you! 🧡

Ah, you’re so sweet! Don’t take this too seriously as I haven’t planned any of it and barely edited it LOL but here you go my dear~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright, and what am I supposed to make of that?"

It was hours later, or perhaps just minutes, and Mahiru found himself staring up at the slightly damp, bug riddled ceiling of the cave. He seemed to have fallen to the ground after Kuro had released his grip; maybe he had taken too much blood? The thought froze his muscles in visceral terror and his mind in a bid to remain sane immediately rejected the idea. Either way, he did distinctly remember hearing Kuro say that he belonged to Mahiru now, or something to that effect, and really, who wanted to have a psycho like this?

"What does what means?"

 Kuro's eyes popped in to view over Mahiru's face and he flinched back, bashing his head further on the cold stone. Frowning in irritation, at the pain in his skull, the situation in general, he sighed. "What do you mean you're mine?"

 The bright red that had flooded through Kuro's irises hadn't faded, in fact it seemed to have almost solidified against the former blue, looking like a small pool of swirling metallic paint splashed across the sky. As he watched, entranced, Kuro grinned.

 "Pretty, right?" He blinked slowly, demonstratively. "The red is a nice touch, a very easy way to identify contracts."

 "Contracts?" Mahiru repeated curiously. "What- no, I mean, how did your eyes change color?"

 "This is your blood, Mahiru." Kuro said matter-of-factly. "I didn't expect it to be so beautiful, to be honest. Most blood mixes in like mud. Such a disappointing shade of brown. But this!" Kuro paused, fluttering a hand in front of his face.

"This is gorgeous. We must be compatible."

 "Compatible..." Mahiru echoed, laughing weakly. "Great."

 "You wanted to go home. I'll take you there."

 "Hold on just a second." He pushed out a hand into the scant air between them and Kuro obligingly sat back, his head cocked in innocent puzzlement. "How do you know where I live?"

 "I know everything that is YOU, now."

 "Again, what exactly does that mean?"

 Kuro smiled wickedly, leaning forward suddenly, a blur of vitality in the dank air of the cave. "Take it literally. Anything that means something to you, makes up a part of your identity, it's mine now. And in exchange-" He gestured down at himself, "you get this, anything you could possibly want."

 Startled into silence, Mahiru felt his tongue form the sardonic comment before he could think better of it. "You're quite confident." As soon as the words were out he regretted them, praying that the offense they caused wouldn't be enough to get him ripped into little pieces, but Kuro only laughed, lighter and softer than anything Mahiru had heard before.

 "Of course I'm confident. Do you still not know who I am, Mahiru?" His lips curled up mischievously and he ran a graceful, delicate finger, along Mahiru's jaw. "You're a bit thick, aren't you? Ah well, no matter! You're mine as well now, no turning back." Before Mahiru had the chance to feel offended, he continued. "I knew you were special the second I saw you."

 The conversation was running in circles and it was only a matter of time before Mahiru got motion sickness trying to follow it, so, trying to decide the simplest course of action, he chose, simply, to ignore it. Obviously Kuro was not who he had originally thought, the eyes, the horns, the preternatural speed, no, there was no way to fake that, he was something else entirely, but the question was, what? Mahiru glanced over to find Kuro staring at him raptly and he couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "Where am I supposed to hide you?"

"Is this just something that people like you can do?" Mahiru asked flatly, staring down at the tiny kitten at his feet. It turned it's wide, luminescent eyes (red like his blood, he thought) up to him and blinked. "I don't know what that means."

 "You really are a demanding little one." Kuro muttered as he phased back into existence, occupying the space the cat had previously. "Of course not all of us can, it is something unique to I and a few others." He paused, seeming to think carefully before speaking. "Eight total."

 There are seven others that can turn into animals?"

 Kuro nodded slowly, almost regretfully. "Yes. Seven. But you don't need to worry about them."

 "I'm not particularly worried." Mahiru sighed. "More like amazed." He watched for a moment as Kuro crept around his room, so cat like in his movements Mahiru almost laughed, and began to poke at several of the books piled haphazardly on his desk. "I do have a question."

 As though he had been in anticipation, Kuro spun on his heel, books and exploration forgotten and a lopsided smile in place. "Yes?"

 "Well, er-" Mahiru hesitated, biting his lip. "Not to be offensive or anything but, you're acting very... different now."

 "Oh?"

 "Uh, yeah..."

 "How so?"

 "Well." Mahiru glanced over, quickly looking away again when he met Kuro's amused gaze. "Well, to be blunt, you're not acting like a total nut job anymore."

 "A nut job." Kuro paused, digesting the phrase for a moment. "I do not know that one either." Four rapid steps had him directly in front of Mahiru again and he grinned. "There's so much you must tell me! But before that, what is the question?"

 "Why?" Mahiu blurted. "Why are you suddenly..." He trailed off and, at a loss for definition, gestured vaguely at Kuro. "Like this?"

 Shrugging casually, Kuro raised a brow. "One would act differently after becoming someone else, no?"

 Putting a finger to his brow in fatigued annoyance, Mahiru groaned. "No w I just know you're fucking with me."

 "Not yet, I assure you." Kuro said brightly, his grin widening impossibly when Mahiru blanched. "What can I say to make you understand?" He crossed his arms, gaze traveling lazily around the room. When his eyes lit upon the chair near the door and he paused. "I took from you and so you must take from me." He glanced over, his eyes shining through the shifting blacks and whites of his hair. "Give and take, tit for tat, you are a part of me and so I must honor that change. Act according to the new blood."

 Mahiru frowned, attempting to construct something realistic or even vaguely understandable from what Kuro had just said. "So, you're different because of me?"

 "Precisely. Perhaps if you were less stubborn I would not be quite so composed?" Kuro laughed, just a shadow of the maniacal, wild abandon from previously and shrugged. "It's an interesting change." He raised his eyes to the ceiling, as though looking up into the sky. "Not unwelcome. Certainly different from what I am used to."

 "What you're used to?" Mahiru prompted him after a moment.

 "Things at the court can be unbalanced." Kuro said slowly. "And so for the most part we are... unpredictable."

 Forgoing asking who exactly "we" was because he was fairly certain he didn't want to know anyway, Mahiru frowned darkly, remembering the shattered stalls and engulfing flames he had so barely escaped earlier."You seemed like a psycho."

 Kuro laughed happily. "That sounds like a compliment!"

 "It's not." Mahiru said flatly. "Psycho is bad." He too glanced around the small room quickly, taking in the limited space and lack of guest furniture. "So now what? I accept that you are some kind of- of- mythical creature. But I do not accept that I am stuck with you."

 "Whether you accept or not is of no consequence." Kuro sang, reaching out and plucking a sweater from where it lay draped over the foot of the bed. "We have a contract." He began to twist it back and forth, inspecting it from every angle, eyes wide in puzzlement.

 "About that. I didn't agree to any contract. So I don't really think it's legally binding." Mahiru crossed his arms, attempting his best impersonation of authority.

 Kuro shrugged, pulling the sweater over his head, horns turning to a bright translucent fog for a moment to allow for the collar to pass over them, and smiled, something quick and genuine, and Mahiru felt his heart skip a beat. "Unfortunate for you then that the fae do not care for legality."

It was an hour later, Mahiru standing in front of the cupboard contemplating it's bare shelving, that he finally admitted to himself that he was not the best at entertaining visitors. Not even a spare loaf of bread. He slammed the door shut in frustration and glanced into the living room, finding Kuri still curled up on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. Mahiru had turned it on in desperation about forty minutes ago and Kuro had not moved since. It was currently airing some strange episodic gum commercial but judging by Kuro's expression you would have thought it was a documentary of the end of the world.

 "How do they do this?" Kuro asked suddenly and Mahiru turned fully, watching as he pointed to the screen upon which was a helicopter view of the city.

 "Do what?"

 "Record this? Is that what you called it? It's so detailed!"

 Mahiru wandered closer, unable to ignore the impulse and peered over Kuro's shoulder. "You said you were some magical being but you've never seen a TV? Where have you been all this time?"

 "In the woods, mostly." Kuro answered casually. "It seems I should have ventured farther into town sooner!"

 Briefly imagining the utter devastation Kuro would have wrought unchecked had he indeed entered the heart of the town Mahiru held back a shiver and shook his head. "No. No way. You are way too much trouble."

 "It is not I that wishes for such destruction." Kuro said, flicking his sharp gaze up to Mahiru. "I only embody what you desire."

 "You keep saying that." Mahiru muttered, looking away in discomfort. "Listen. Do you need food? Or..." He trailed off in embarrassment, completely gobsmacked that the next words were about to leave his mouth. "Or are you actually a vampire?"

 "Vampire." Kuro rolled the word around for a moment and shrugged. "Call me what you will. You humans have always had such curious need to name everything. Regardless, it will not change that I simply am."

 Mahiru sighed. He really was getting so tired of all this mystical bullshit. "So then, did you want to get dinner?"

 Kuro froze, his shoulders going taut beneath the blanket he had huddled up in. "Dinner?" His eyes were darting from side to side as though in worry, though there was nothing but an innocuous soap opera preview on.

 "Yeah? You know, we go somewhere and get food? I honestly hate the idea of bringing you in public, but I don't have anything here." Mahiru admitted, frowning. "You have to behave."

 "Ah, I see." Kuro turned, fixing Mahiru with a strange look. "You need to eat then?"

 "I take it, based on this conversation that you don't actually require food." Mahiru muttered sarcastically. "But yes, I'm hungry."

 "Very well. Let's go." Kuro stood in one quick move, the blanket falling from his shoulders and to the couch and Mahiru flinched back a step, having completely forgotten just how tall Kuro really was. At his jerking retreat, Kuro raised a brow and a mocking smile flew across his face. "Do you truly find me so frightening?"

 An immediate affirmation withered on Mahiru's tongue as he studied Kuro's expression. It was neutral and empty but somewhere, deep beneath the veneer of indifference, he thought he could see a wiggling of disappointment. He didn't know what possessed him to do what he did, or even why he would care to do so in the first place but he found himself snorting and reaching out to wrap his hand around Kuro's wrist, tugging him roughly around the back of the couch and towards the kitchen. "Of course not, idiot. What's scary about you?"

[starlordsandrockets]

Gold Dust Woman: Ch. II

semi-warning: soon to be smut

summary: (Star-Lord x reader) While on the Milano you meet the interesting company Peter surrounds himself with.

Ch. I | Ch. II | Ch. III | Ch. IV | Ch. V | Ch. VI  GDW masterlist

GDW: the compendium

Entering the large ship you touched the cool metal, it tickled your warm skin. Peter lead you, hand in hand, to the center of the ship. The room was cluttered with spare parts and tools. The atmosphere amazed you and Peter watched you spin around, taking the space in completely. You never had the chance to own your own ship. You planet hopped, finding your next destination from kind strangers who let you stow away in their small ships or pods. But you had never been in a ship this big, “Speechless, I see,” Peter spoke, letting go of your hand to retrieve some frozen food they kept in the compacted freezer. He placed the bag on his face with a groan.

You turned your head, following the sound that passed through his lips. The noise was so raw it embarrassed you, but you still approached him as he leaned against the large, cluttered table. His elbows rested behind him on the metal surface, propping himself up as his hips swung loosely, placing his weight on the table and off of his tired feet. You studied his face as his eyes were closed, almost fully covered by the frozen food package, and almost making you smile. You studied the stranger before you silently. Peter looked to be in his early thirties, his dirty blond hair was the perfect length, along with his beard. His closed, blue eyes charmed you along with his sense of humor. You could not help but be enchanted by this man, who moments before, was hired to attack you, let alone possibly kill you. He was in it for the money and by the sight of his ship, you could tell he was a man driven by personal gain, “Quill,” your voice was soft, not wanting to startle him. Your fingers peeled the cold package off his sensitive skin, “Do you know nothing about after battle care,” you interrogated, “Where’s your first aid,”

Peter raised two fingers, pointing to the nearest compartment, “Maybe not after ‘battle’ care,” he spoke slyly, putting emphasis on the word ‘battle’ that passed through his smirking lips. His claim made you pause, your back facing him, Peter Quill was going to be the death of you. After a moment, you turned back towards him, taking in his smiling face and slightly swinging hips, making you swallow. Placing the metal kit down on the table beside his right arm, you stood before him, the tips of your round-toed boots touching his dark, sharp toed ones. You looked into his eyes, both of you knowing you would have to get closer to inspect his wounds. Placing your hand lightly under his jawline, you tilted his head up from where it fell from when he looked at you. Your eyes studied his throat as he swallowed hard, his eyes inspecting your gaze that fell on his neck, “My cut’s up here, sweetheart,” his voice was raspy as you watched his adam’s apple bounce with each word. His claim made your gaze immediately meet his eyes. His blue eyes studied your (y/e/c) ones as his bloody lips formed a pleased smirk.

Your heartbeat rose to your ears as you dug through the metal box, pulling out cotton and a glass bottle of hydrogen peroxide. You dampened the soft cotton, applying it roughly to his cut lip.

“Ow,” he almost yelled at you for getting your revenge, “Alright, alright,” he spoke quickly, almost pleading you to relieve him of his punishment.

“No more talking,” you spoke softly as you removed the cotton, blood turning the pure cotton a subtle, raw pink, “for my sake,” you rose on the tips of your toes, getting a closer look at Peter’s cut. Tilting his jaw, catching his rough skin in the soft natural light that found its way in through the ships many windows. Your eyes searched for a reflection of any glass that could possibly be in his lip. Not catching any reflection, you retired your hand that sat on his jawline. Taking the same steps with his bloody nose, your touch was much more gentle now that Peter was keeping his mouth shut, “You’re prettier when you don’t talk,” you joke as you closed the metal box.

“Really,” Peter smiled, “because, I think you’re prettier when you talk,” he joked, his claim laced with a genuine tone, catching your (y/e/c) eyes.

You took a step forward, beginning to cross the room to return the first aid kit, when the echo of footsteps bounced off the Milano’s metal walls, “You didn’t tell me other people were on the Milano,” you yelled, your words whispered, “What the hell Quill,”

Peter threw up his hands, his brow furrowed, “It’s not like you asked me, and why does it matter,” you sat down the metal box, heading towards the door, “Hey, hey,” Peter spoke, his voice sounded concerned, “Y/N,” his strong hold wrapped around your wrist as his hushed words were interrupted by a loud claim.

“Damn Quill, I’m sick of you bringing girls back here,” quickly, your eyes searched for where the voice came from. Your gaze fell to a racoon that sat no taller than your knees, “never mind that, what happened to your face,” he laughed.

“Rocket that is not nice,” a woman’s soft voice echoed from the hallway. She entered the room quickly, eyes alert, “Peter, are you in pain,” the woman asked as you focused on her black eyes before your gaze traveled to her anteni.

“Oh, yes Mantis,” Peter played along, trying to appease the two interesting characters that now occupied the room, “Y/N helped though, so,” he watched as Mantis approached him, her hands extended, “I’m fine, really,” but Mantis’s hands sat flush against Peter’s face, “okay,” Peter almost sighed as you watched the show unfold. You were at a loss for words, amused yet equally confused at the company Peter kept aboard his ship.

Mantis’s anteni began to glow a soft hum of white, somehow sending warmth throughout your body, the sight was almost calming, “You do not feel pain,” she spoke, her broken english hinted confusion, “you feel, desire,” the previous calmness you felt now slipped through your fingers and was replaced by your accelerating heartbeat, “for her,” Mantis’s words were deadened by Peter’s large hand that found its way over her mouth.

Your eyes found Peter’s as he studied your blushed skin. His hold on Mantis’s mouth weakened as he searched for any words that could make the situation at ease. Instead, he watched as Mantis approached you, hands cautiously outstretched.

“May I,” her words were soft as she studied your face. She looked at your untamed (y/h/c) hair that added to your hell and back exterior. You were mysterious, yet still approachable, your large eyes almost doe like. Your brown smokey eyes were someone smudge from the countless times you rubbed your eyes, the planet’s air drying them, “You are beautiful,” Mantis spoke as her hand rested on your arm softly.

Her white glow illuminated your face as you watched her eyes flutter shut, “Thank you,” your voice strained, your mind overstimulated.

Mantis quickly removed her hand, eyes connecting once again at your steady gaze, “I am sorry,” she whispered, “You feel discomfort, overwhelmed,” she stumbled as she attempted to take small steps away from you, the floor was cluttered with unnecessary scrap, “I hope that you stay,” she smiles, her claim attracting the eyes of everyone who stood in the large room.

The woman’s face was soft and kind, a bright smile occupied her lips, “Thank you,” the same words once again passing through your bruised lips, “Mantis,” you added, with a small smile. Your hands crossed over your chest, resting on your biceps. 

With a nod Mantis turned, taking Rocket’s small hand, “Come on, I think we should leave them alone now,” she spoke as Rocket almost hissed at being dragged off, his constant bickering echoed through the room until you and Peter were once again left alone.

Your eyes slowly found Peter’s feet as your hands danced along the fabric of your jacket. Slowly, your gaze traveled up Peter’s body, taking him all in. With a swing of his arms, he removed his worn, red jacket. A long sleeve, cool-grey shirt hugged his toned torso making your heart flutter. Finally, you met his smiling blue eyes.

“Look,” his words quiet at first, were replaced with a laugh, “I’m sorry about that,” Peter studied you as you stood across the room. You were beautiful, but not a cliche beautiful like in fairy tales. The way you held yourself gave you a layer of mystery and allusiveness that Peter hungered to pervade. He wanted to get to know you. Although the two of you only met, he felt as if it would torment him to watch you leave his side, “I hope that didn’t turn you off,” he spoke after a few minutes of silence.

His comment made your shoulders stiffen. After Mantis’s bold claim of attraction, you began overanalyzing Peter’s words. You knew nothing about empaths, but you were feeling exactly what Mantis described. Your heart skipped a beat wondering if Peter actually felt desire for you.

“No, no, not like that,” Peter spoke, quickly approaching your side, “I mean, what Mantis said,” his eyes caught a flicker of embarrassment in your eyes, “not, not that,” Peter stumbled over his words as his fingers ran through his hair. His blond locks were no longer damp, but still smelled of cheap beer, “I also want you to stay,” the words flowed through his parted lips as he looked into your eyes.

You smiled as he stumbled over his words, inches away from you. Your heart pleaded for you to close the few inches that stood between you, the scent of beer and cologne drawing you in like a moth to a flame, “Quill,” you whispered.

Peter swallowed. Hearing his name leave your lips made his breath catch in his throat, “Please,” his voice practically begged, catching himself off guard.

You studied Peter, he almost seemed closer now, and your fingertips longed to once again be pressed against his rough skin. You have never been bold, but there was something about Peter that changed that, and so you reached towards him. Your fingertips grazed the soft fabric of his shirt, “I’ll stay, but only for awhile,” your quiet words brought a smile to his face.

Peter’s hand rested on yours as your fingertips danced against his chest. Withdrawing your touch, he took your hand and led you down the long hallway that Rocket and Mantis walked down minutes before. You made your way down the long hall that was lined with doors, some open while others closed. Reaching a dead end, Peter typed a code into the door’s key pad. Your eyes met those of a captivating, green woman who stood in the doorway to your right. She studied you as you stood behind Peter, as if you were his shadow. Unaware of your actions, you squeezed Peter’s hand as the woman continued to study the two of you as Peter began to pull you into his room.

Feeling your hold tighten on his hand, Peter turned his head, unable to meet your eyes. Your (y/e/c) eyes were focused on Gamora’s as her gaze rose, meeting Peter’s blue eyes, “Gamora,” her name left Peter’s lips, feeling as if all the air escaped from his lungs, “This is Y/N,” he swallowed as he watched the girl that turned him down over and over continued to break his heart. Gamora’s stare cut Y/N like tiny daggers, somehow making Peter’s heart hurt even more.

“Bold move, Quill,” Gamora smiled at him, eyes fixated on your crumbling posture. You felt yourself retreat into your oversized jean jacket, almost as if you were her prey trying to camouflage yourself, “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” lowering her gaze, the dark eyes of the vixen released you from her hold. Turning, she entered her room as the door closed behind her.

“I can’t shake the feeling that my company isn’t wanted,” you spoke quietly, meeting Peter’s eyes, “Maybe it’s best if,” your words were cut off by Peter’s tightening hold on your hand, mirroring your previous actions.

“I want you here,” Peter spoke with a smile, “and I’m the leader,” his warm smile grew into a cocky grin, “so everyone has to do what I say,”

Your eyes closed into a sliver as a smile played on your lips, “Everyone,” you joked as he pulled you into his room, the automatic door slid closed quickly.

“Especially you,” Peter spoke, barely audible as he approached you. His large hands wrapped around the fabric of your jacket collar. Sliding the fabric off your neck, a hiss of pain passed through your lips. You were suddenly reminded of the burn that was left on your skin. The golden chain was replaced with its crimson imprint on your sensitive skin, “Hey,” his words were soft as his hands roughly removed your jean exterior, “what’s wrong,” his eyes found your fingertips that touched your burning skin, “Lemme take a look,” he calmed you as you lowered your hand while your gaze lifted, meeting his eyes.

Peter’s hands found their way to your stiffened shoulders, turning your back towards him. Brushing your slightly matted hair over your shoulder, he exposed the heated skin of your neck, “shit,” you whispered as his slightly calloused fingers touched the burning surface. Although you were in pain, you could not help but melt under Peter’s cautious touch. Feeling his breath on the back of your neck you shudder.

“You were so set on fixing me up,” Peter smiled as his eyes trailed along the imprint of your gold chain, “You’re damn stubborn,” his eyes found your old Led Zeppelin shirt. It looked as if it was being held together by a few threads. Holes from many battles peppered the once thick fabric. The holes exposed your soft skin underneath. Skin that Peter wished to study, “and really pretty,” he spoke, a breath hitched in his throat. Acknowledging his daring claim, he raised his gaze to find you sneaking a glance at him over your shoulder.

Your ears were blocked by the sound of your rapid heartbeat as you met Peter’s eyes, his compliment catching your heart off guard. You parted your lips, longing to find something to say to him, but he left you speechless. Peter slowly closed even more space between the two of you, making you turn your head away out of embarrassment.

You felt Peter’s breath on your neck, its heat burning your already irritated skin. A groan passed through your lips, embarrassing you even further. You heard Peter laugh as his lips tickled the skin of your neck, peppering it with gentle kisses, “Why won’t you stay,” Peter muttered in between kisses. His lips met your skin more harshly and feverish as you felt a breath catch in your throat, making you whimper, “Come on,” he almost commanded as his hand found its way to the front of your neck, “tell me sweetheart,”

The truth is you were scared. You could count on one hand how many times men like Peter took advantage of your trusting, submissive nature. But for the first time, you did not feel the need to fight back. Peter’s kisses did not feel lustful but caring, making you crave them more than you were willing to admit. Cursing under your breath, you realized that you wanted him to care for you.

[moonydaydreams]

𝐣𝐮𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Fandom: It Lives In the Woods

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor (past)

Words: 7.363 (holy cow)

Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, angst 101 and swearing for dummies

Author’s note: This is my first Choices story and, holy cannoli, this is longer than I intended to be. But nonetheless, this an AU of what could have been had neither Noah or MC sacrificed themselves to take Jane’s place (THIS IS, IN ANOTHER WORD, A FORM OF DENIAL, Y'ALL. CAUSE THAT ENDING WRECKED ME) and Noah fled from Westchester. I’m sorry if the characters seem OOC or the story feels meh. So if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

———————————————————————————–

In a city where the subway stations smell like after-shave and peanut butter and jelly breath smelling college students at nine in the morning, and half of the street names that he still can’t recall to this day, a young man in a beanie, who couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one enters a small 24/7 convenience store with his hands thrust deep inside his coat pockets.

A burly, beer-swilling, 6 feet of a man behind the cashier, elbow-deep in the football magazine in his last season’s Real Madrid jersey, glances up from his reading upon his arrival. His eyebrows narrow.

“Never seen you visiting this late,” Romero comments dryly over the trip-hop music that is playing over the speakers and flicked his eyes back to the magazine. “Did you accidentally shoot your dealer or some shit?“

Romero’s attempt on making small talks with him, albeit as condescending as it sounds, does not fall on deaf ears. But it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and broke, he simply doesn’t have the will to entertain him.

“Shut up. I’m hungry,” replies the young man, stopping by the instant food section. His eyes finding the many varieties of flavors and brands and feels his stomach sick at the amount of artificial food he’s been consuming over the years. It’s like being eight all over again.

“Well, knock yourself out. We just stocked up those crazy spicy Korean ramen you kids can’t seem to stop feeding.” Romero’s face breaks into a mocking grin. “Can’t wait to see you all die from cancer.”

“Instant noodles don’t directly cause cancer on its own, actually.”

Romero burst into laughter. “And how the fuck does a two-bit junkie like you know that, Malcolm?”

The boy’s face involuntarily twitches.

And it isn’t because of how alien the sound when someone addresses him with his fake name or how Romero somehow thinks he has his character all figured out. The thing about living in incognito for years, he’s already become accustomed to those; to prejudices and living up to the persona that people design for him just to inflate their egos and ward them off of his tail in the process. No one wants to affiliate themselves with “the junkie” or “the hot-headed mechanic with suicidal tendencies” and he is more than fine with his solitary.

No. It is the nature of the question that throws him off guard and how his mind all too soon, against his better wishes, refers to her.

Suddenly, he is Noah again. Thirteen years ago at the age of eight, looking out of the window with Jane as they watched a girl about their age in a short tutu dress and combat boots climbing up the oak tree in their backyard to save a distressed kitten.

Their parents saw this, did a double-take, went hysterical and called her parents. He later learned her name was Liz and that she’d just moved into the neighborhood a week ago.

Then he sees Liz again, now a few months after their first encounter, running off to the forest with Jane’s arm linked with hers. He remembers her messy braided hair and freckles multiplied by the sun as they led Noah and the rest of their friends to abandoned ruins they’d somehow stumbled on a week ago. 

His memory of her somehow jumps forward. Now, he sees her in a different light, a different vignette. It is from three years ago this time and she was no longer the Liz all knees, elbows and mud on her shoes young girl from his childhood. She was Liz, on the edge of seventeen, her hair nine shades lighter than when she was a kid (she also had bangs now) with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other, but still the same dark-eyed sprite that made his cold, dead heart skip a beat whenever she looked at his way and smiled that smile of hers; the kind that radiated her cheeks and lit up her eyes. 

The same light that he watched slowly waning from her eyes when she discovered his ulterior plan. 

His heart feels like shattering into smithereens all over again. He doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing on the noodle packet too tight until he hears the contents shatter in his hand. 

“A friend told me,” Noah finds himself saying even before his brain can halt it. Staring blankly at the packet, his mouth dropping into a frown.

He can feel Romero’s gaze on him, curious and confused. Shifting between the packet in his hand and his glazed-over expression. Noah, realizing he’s just projected his emotion right out in the open, huffs and throws the squeezed noodle packet into his shopping basket. 

Romero clears his throat. “Sounds like quite a friend.”

Noah pretends as if the jig isn’t exactly up and decides to actively ignore the older man. He gets the rest of his needs, holding the last of his composure against slipping and brings his groceries to the cashier, looking down at his feet whenever Romero glances at him in genuine concern.

“Catch ya later, Malcolm,” Romero says as he hands Noah the change. “And, uh… stay safe, you hear me?”

Noah, in return, only nods his thanks, probably a little too curt according to the polite society and leaves.

Outside, thunder begins to roll overhead. Noah eyes the sky nervously. It’s going to rain soon. And hard judging from the way the clouds are moving across the black midnight sky.

Noah rifles for his cigarette pack from his pockets, lights one and begins making his way back to his hellhole of an apartment. Treading slowly through the deserted streets, steering clear from alley-ways and suspicious characters until he can see the window of his apartment.

Then, Noah’s feet skid to a hard stop.

His jaw drops, his cigarette falling unheeded to the ground.

Sitting on the front steps of his apartment building is Liz, swathed in an oversized overcoat, her head leaning onto the railings, she seems to be sleeping.

What in the sweet fuck?

For a good minute, Noah stands stock-still. He simply gazes at his former best friend, nonplussed and borderline panicking. A migraine begins to form in his head. He gazes over his shoulder, watching and waiting for anyone to jump at him from the alley or anything, because there is no way in hell this is not a trap. This can’t be. 

He waits and waits, but no one comes out. Confused, Noah looks at her again, his expression inscrutable. If this is not a trap, then this must be a cruel dream the universe pulls on him for all the wrongdoings he has committed in his life. That, or Noah must have tragically died on his way back home and ascended to heaven. 

But then, if this is heaven, why is he here?

Eventually, Noah kneels before her. He reaches his hand out to her, hesitating mid-move and touches her shoulder.

“Liz?” he gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, wake up.”

She does. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, bleary and brown, and meets his gaze for the first time in three years. Noah feels like his breath stuck in his throat.

“Noah?” Liz blinks sleepily, twice, then yawns into the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “A quarter past two.”

Liz’s brows furrow. “Huh. What were you doing out so late?”

“Had to do a supply run.” Noah gestures to the shopping bag in his hand. Then, “Liz, what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Liz doesn’t answer his question, merely wraps her arms around herself, attempting to keep warm and sighs tiredly.

“Noah, can we go inside?” she pleas, instead. Desperation fuelling her voice. “I’m tired and cold and I…” she trails off.

Consideration flashes in Noah’s eyes for a moment. The logical part of his head insists for him to take her to the nearest train station and send her off back to Westchester. It’s the right thing to do. Considering that he’s been laying low for years now, the last thing he needs to add to his ongoing headache is for the police to suspect that she’s an accomplice.

But he’s never been the wiser one.

So, he takes her gloved hand and helps her to stand and, after giving one last look at their surroundings, of course, ushers her inside the apartment building. 

Neither says anything as they make their way to the staircase, as they venture through the grimy hallway where the dim and shadowed lights overhead following their every step like vultures and past the occupied doors where a loud, sexual moan comes from behind one of them.

She doesn’t make any comment about the awful state of the place he lives in, while he simply doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed because everything happens so sudden, Noah himself is still second-guessing if any of this is real. 

Finally, they stop by his door. Noah produces the key from his wallet when he hesitates, remembering the state of the room the last time he left it.

“A bit of warning, though…” He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “it’s pretty messy inside.”

“It’s fine.”

Noah turns the key and eases the door open.

The rain has started to pour. Noah turns the side lamp on and takes off his coat, his groceries on top of the kitchen counter. He watches as Liz, as if in a daze, tosses her coat and gloves to his bed and walks towards the direction of the window. A hand against the windowpane, the flare of the street lamp outside illuminating her features in the dimness, she silently watches as the rain falls on the pavement. Lost somewhere in the tangled cobwebs of her thoughts.

And it occurs to Noah that she is no longer Liz, on the edge of seventeen with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other. She is Liz, older, with circles under her eyes, the world on her shoulders and a few pounds lighter than he remembers, but still the same dark-eyed sprite and with the pale shades of haired girl that he yearns to wrap his arms around and tells her how sorry he is for all those years ago, for leaving without saying a proper goodbye and how all these years it is her that keeps him going through every day and drives him insane at the same time. 

But he can only remain in his place and forces to quell his desire to do the aforementioned. Because Noah’s pretty sure that privilege is long gone the moment his betrayal came to light. Even to be standing in the very room with her is a crime, yet here they are.

Here she is.

“Liz?“ 

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh,” his gaze finds the ramen packets, suddenly feeling inspired. “Have you eaten anything?”

She is silent for a while. “No.”

“I’m making ramen, you want some?” 

“Okay.” 

With that, Noah rolls up his sleeves, takes two eggs and a few vegetables from the fridge and begins to work. He ditches the salty packet of MSG and makes his own broth while at the same time, mincing the garlic and green onion and grating the ginger. By the time he sautées the aromatics, Liz makes a beeline from the window and hops onto the counter, watching him distractedly as he continues cooking. 

She stays silent and so does he. Despite the lack of words, everything feels strangely… domestic? Under different circumstances, Noah can easily get used to this; him cooking for her, with her becoming his taste tester whenever he’s experimenting with new recipes he finds on the internet and simply impresses her on a daily basis. Yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

Ten minutes passed, Noah then moves the ‘upgraded ramen’ to the bowls and serves one to her. The taste will probably pale in comparison to the one that her mom used to make, yet it earns him her first smile of the night, albeit small and closed-mouthed, it’s still a smile nonetheless. 

He grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and moves onto the couch with her. They finish their meal within minutes, still in silence. For a moment, the only sound that encompasses the room is the rain and his next-door neighbor who has the TV going in full-blast. That asshole.

Noah reaches out for a cigarette pack from the coffee table, dexterously flicks his wrist so a single one pops halfway out of the carton. He casts her a sidelong glance.

“Do you mind if I…?” he trails off, gesturing to the cigarette. 

Liz’s stare zeroes on the cancer stick, scowling, as if she doesn’t approve of this vice of his, but shrugs nonetheless. 

“So, how, uh…” Noah clears his throat, gathering his courage. How does he do this? How do you break the ice with your former best friend who you happen to have a crush on for more than a decade and almost murdered because your dead twin sister compelled you to do so without being awkward? 

“How are you, by the way?“ he manages to ask behind a plume of smoke. 

“I’m doing okay,” she says but in a tone when someone is obviously not okay.

“Just okay?”

“I…” she hesitates. “Yeah, just okay.” Liz lies and manages a weak smile. Noah decides not to press for more information. “Though I’ve been busy these days. I’m trying to finish my dissertation sometime around next year.”

"Already?” And she nods. Noah whistles, obviously impressed. "I’m guessing you did take the English major?”

Liz’s eyes widened slightly. “You remember." 

"Yeah.” Noah looks down. Of course he remembers, not when it’s impossible to forget the very idea of Liz Mortimer. “And your old man doesn’t try to fight you for this?”

“Nope. After Ja–” she clamps her mouth shut. “I graduated, let’s just say he had a hard time saying no to me.” She chuckles, but just for a good three seconds and Noah doesn’t have to ask why to know the reason behind her father’s sudden change of heart.

“How about you?” she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, how are you?” She amends.

Heaven knows I’m always miserable, Liz. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m okay, too, I guess." 

"Just okay?” Liz parrots his own words at him and he smiles, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. They may still be painfully awkward to one another, but it feels so good to be talking with her again.

“Nothing new under the sun for me, but I’m thriving. And, um, how’s the others?” a.k.a the bunch of group of friends I hurt.

“They’re alright. Lily started her own video game called Pixie Moon, which I have no doubt will take the world by storm the way Candy Crush did; Ava is writing a book about witch trials; Stace is studying journalism and basically kicking ass; Dan is pursuing psychology; His majesty King Kang himself is playing for the Bighorns; and Lucas, as you can expect, is off to save our earth.”

Noah swallows the information one by one. His face an inscrutable blank. All of his friends somehow have found a place on this earth, they all have moved on except for him, again, who’s still scratching around in the same old hole; his future derived, his past an endless pitfall.

“And Connor?” he asks quietly, when in truth he doesn’t give two-shits about the man. But he knows she does, and Noah loves her too much to let his jealousy dictate his behavior. 

Suddenly, her face falls. Teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip. “He's… fine. He’s probably at home now as we speak.“

“And now you’re a long way from home.”

“So are you.”

Noah shakes his head. “Westchester stopped being my home the moment I turned eight.” He sighs forlornly, looks the other way, hands fidgeting. Force of habit. “Liz, as much as I’m glad to see you, but why did you come here?”

“How long have you been staying here?” Liz evades his question as if he never asked it in the first place.

Noah raises an eyebrow, exhales, but decides to play along. “Since August. So that’s two months. Probably, the longest I have ever stayed in one place.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, there was Utah and Kansas. Then Minnesota for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t stand the cold and the rest is history,” he keeps his answer as vague as possible, not when he still has no idea the nature of her visit. “Look, why are you here?”

But still, the girl dodges his question. “Why do you–”

Until his patience can’t simply take it anymore. 

Noah is all but scoots over to her position until their knees are touching, the cigarette forgotten on the ashtray, and grips her arms firmly. His eyebrows knitted as he takes in her stunned face. 

“Liz.” There is a twinge of anger, confusion and desperation in the way he says her name this time. “Why are you here? You know you can’t be here. Goddamn it! If the fucking cops find out that you’re here…” Once he realizes what he is doing, he withdraws his hands as if she’s fire and now he’s burning.

“They won’t. I can assure you that." 

"You don’t know that.”

“I know what I’m doing, Noah. Trust me, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew it’s not safe,” Liz replies, her tone doesn’t leave any room for doubts and he knows there is no way to talk his way around it. Not to mention, he trusts her, if there is anyone who can sneak behind authority and get away with it, it has to be her.

Noah shrugs, agreeable, but he isn’t going to let her off so easily. 

“How did you find me, anyway?” he questions, reaching for his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag just to spite his throat. He has a feeling he might be smoking his misery away all night by the time she’s left.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs and absentmindedly leans her back against the couch, one arm wraps around her midsection. “It wasn’t easy, actually. But I made some new friends in Pine Springs and one of them is acquainted with the newly-minted Police Chief. Pulled a few strings and here we are.” 

“Pine Springs? What the heck were you doing there?”

“It's… a long story. But there were people there needing my help, and in exchange, they helped me track you down. An eye for an eye.”

Lightning suddenly jags across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room, pulling him out of his musings. She jumps at the sound, startled, and instinctively reaches for his hand. Noah freezes at the contact, forgetting how her skin feels like on his or a decent human contact in general. It’s been so long. And somehow he loses the ability to speak, to think.

He definitely doesn’t think when Noah moves his hand under hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Noah feels her head moving, her eyes darting from their joined hands and to his face that turns into a parade of expressions– misery, regret and melancholy. The holy trinity of feelings he’s been bearing for the past three years– for the past thirteen years of his life, actually– and feels her hand squeezing back his. 

“Christ, I can’t believe you went all through that shit just to find me,” he croaks, all but on the verge of tears. “And I left you just like that even without saying sorry.”

“Noah…”

“No, let me say it, Liz. I need to say it.” His hands are trembling, his composure this close from crumbling. “What I did was unforgivable. And I know there is nothing in this world that could help me undo the damage I’ve done to you and how I’ll spend the rest of my day regretting it, but regardless, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his whole body is shaking by now. 

“I’m so sorry for the nightmare I put you through. I was so blinded by my own volition and revenge for Jane’s death that I hurt you, all of you in the process without giving a single rat’s ass about it.” Noah pauses, wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m a monster, Liz. A selfish, heartless, miserable monster. God, I should have died that night.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She plucks the cigarette from his other hand, discards it on her empty bowl and places her other hand on his shoulder. “Noah, look at me,” she says again, her voice like a caress. He looks up. “Don’t say that. You are not a monster. You’re just a byproduct of the pain from losing your sister, loneliness and bad parenting. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you human.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t lure his friends into abandoned ruins in the middle of a fucking forest where his sister died and put their lives hang in the balance.”

“No, they wouldn’t, but if there is anything Dan taught me is that people react to loss in different ways.”

Noah groans and pushing himself to his feet. “No, don’t try to find a way to justify this. Didn’t you forget, I could have killed you that night. You! The- the only one who gives a fuck whether I’m breathing or not.” The only one who matters. “If you hadn’t stopped her… God, I don’t even want to go there.“

She gets up from the couch as well. “I’m not justifying anything. Yes, what you did to us was… It was harrowing, it was despicable but I also knew the extent of your agony that drove you to do it. I understand… and like what I said that night in the cave; it’s not your fault. Not exclusively, at least. And I forgive you for it.”

“Liz–”

“No, listen to me, we all made mistake–”

He snorts. “Not on a grand scale like this, I bet.”

“Maybe not. But the fact that you give a shit and beat yourself up for years for what you did, that already speaks a lot,” she says. “You’ve tormented yourself enough. It’s not going to do you anything good. It’s not going to erase anything. What you need to do now is to close that book. Get a new one, write a new story, move on. I have forgiven you, I’m sure the others have forgotten about what happened until someone mentions it, it’s your turn now.”

Her words hit him like a piledriver and for the first time in probably like forever, he does feel slightly better. Even if only an infinitesimal amount and even he may won’t be forgiving himself anytime soon, but still, hearing those words coming from her mouth mean the whole world to him. 

“Why did you really come here, Liz?” The question is a tad out of place, but it feels like their previous conversations were made entirely to build up for this. 

Her frown melts away, replaced with somewhere between doubt and conflict. He holds her gaze for a minute, undeterred, then she turns her back on him to face the window once more. The suspense gnaws at him, yet still, he bides his time. 

“I have something to tell you,” she finally says, keeping her voice low.

“What is it?” He replies rather impatiently. When she seems to be hesitating, he adds, “And don’t beat around the bush, Liz.”

A deep breath, foot taps, a hand clutching at the hem of a buttoned-up dress and another deep breath. 

“Connor proposed to me.”

A beat. Then,

“Oh,” and it’s barely audible. And Noah feels like his heart has been torn from his chest, thrown into the ground, drags it through the mud then stomps on it for good measure. And that he feels worse and emptier than he was before she came here. “Congratulations.”

The words that come out of his mouth could have been his, because he can barely hear his own voice in this white noise. He always knew Connor and her were smitten with each other the moment she stepped into the hardware store for the first time, but Noah doesn’t expect it all would extend to marriage.

She looks over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Noah blinks at her, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I…” her voice wavers. When she turns to face him again, she is pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scrunched up. “Ah, fuck this is never going to be easy. Long story short, I freaked out, made a scene at a restaurant, ended our three-year on-and-off relationship and went here.”

“Wait, what?”

Liz shrugs, guiltily, all Atlas-and-the-weight-of-the-world.

“Yeah,” she, much to his surprise (and concern), chokes a laughter, manic and loud. “Yeah, I did it. I fucked up the longest relationship I’ve ever had and broke my best friend’s brother’s heart because I wasn’t ready, because I’m an idiot.” When she does look at him, her eyes are bright. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

For a brief, candid moment, Noah’s brows furrow as his mind goes to one of his former friends. Is it Dan? Ava? Or could it be Lucas? Because the last time he saw them together, they were pretty inseparable– although their relationship is strictly platonic as far as he’s concerned. Has that dynamic changed after he left? 

Then Noah realizes her eyes are still on him– and quite expectantly, that is, and that’s not… no, that can’t be right, can it? 

His demeanor shifts drastically as he stands there, stunned silence. Disarmed by her confession. 

He tries to speak, but his jaw won’t shut back to its place; his brains short-circuiting.

“Yes, I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, Noah Marshall,” Liz mutters when he remains silent. He can tell this is something she’s been holding in for a long time. “Even though we hadn’t spoken to each other for years after Jane, there hadn’t been a day that I didn’t think of you. When we finally reconnected three years ago, I wanted to say all these things to you, but..” she smiles wistfully. “Well, shit happened.”

“Why?” Of all the people you could have fallen in love with, why me? What he means to ask.

“Because you understand me like no one else; because you climbed up to my window to bring me your homemade grilled cheese sandwich when I was grounded when we were 8; because you actually listened and showed me that my vulnerability doesn’t always have to be my weakness; because I love the way you wear your beanie like 24/7 and the way you shake my hair whenever I say something stupidly amusing to you. Because it’s you!”

“No.” It’s a denial, it’s an attempt to ward her off from someone like him. It’s a lie. “No, no, no, no, no, Liz, you can’t fall in love with someone who’s-who’s mentally unstable or tried to kill you in the past, that’s like…” he gesticulates wildly. “Crazy! You are crazy!”

“I’m sorry, are you any better?”

“Of course not! But to forgive me is one thing, Liz, to love me, that’s a whole different level of insanity.” Noah begins to pace agitatedly around the room back and forth. “Fuck. I can’t hear this. Not from you.”

“Why not?” He sees the hurt expression on her face. Then interrupts just as soon as he opens his mouth. “Noah, I’m not asking for your answer this instance–heck, I’m not even asking you to reciprocate my feelings, but please don’t invalidate my emotions. Not when I waited for years to say it to you.”

“But this fucking complicates everything!” Noah points out.  

“Maybe. Maybe not, but you don’t know that,” she says resolutely, echoing his words from before. 

Noah doesn’t say anything in return.

She steps closer and slowly raises her palm to cup his cheek, an attempt to calm the storm within him. His hand grasps her wrist before she can make contact. 

“Noah–" 

His breathing quickens. Noah swallows and shakes his head.

“Liz, we can’t do this. No matter…” he sighs, his eyes boring into hers. Here he is, again, dangling on the edge of damnation, of what’s right and wrong. It’s wrong, yet he knows that she knows, from the heat and electricity that dance between them, from the pressure of his fingers that tell different stories, that he, too, wants the same thing.

“No matter what, Noah?” She murmurs, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. She really wants him to say it, does she?

He extricates her hand from him, taking steps back, putting as much distance he can from her. “Forget it.”

“Look, Noah, if you feel what I think you’re feeling, then what is it that you’re afraid of?" 

Noah whirls around to face her again. "Everything! Can’t you see that if we do this, the world will turn against us?" 

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions?”

“I wasn’t worrying about me.”

"Well, I don’t give a fuck what others or this thrice-damned world thinks!” she exclaims mulishly. “After all we’ve been through, is it so wrong to be selfish, to follow your own heart just once– just once? Is it– don’t you care about what you want?”

“I want-” Noah stops. His hands tugging at his red beanie cap. “Never mind what I want.”

Her voice is quieter now. “What do you want, Noah?”

For an interminable moment, heavy with the promise of both release and regret, he only stares at her. Contemplating his options.

Perhaps loving her shouldn’t be the sin he thought it was, especially when she wants the same thing in return. Although he’s more than aware that he’s the last person in this world who deserves her affection, but deep down, Noah knows that he’ll never forgive himself if he didn’t run the risk now and spent the rest of his life wondering what it felt like instead.

“You.” Always you.

She holds his gaze. “Then have me.”

And as if an unknown force was taking over his body, Noah crosses the distance between them, his free hands cradling her face, drawing her close and kisses her.

It’s like a dam breaking, everything floods out. They do not kiss gently, desperation orchestrating their every move that the world around him grows distant and dim.  Twelve years of pining for each other, of secretive glances, of murder attempt and mutual misery and it all leads them to this. His thumb skimming the curve of her throat and feels her pulse leaps. He stops. Worrying if he’s crossed the line.

But Liz grabs the front of his clothes, pulling him even closer– as if they aren’t close enough– and kisses him back with a matching fervor. Her body pressed against his, warm and unfamiliarly familiar, and Noah swears his heart skips when she emits a quiet desperate noise that he happily swallows. 

Suddenly, Noah pulls back. “Liz, I’m sorr–” he says breathlessly.

“No, don’t you dare apologize,” she says firmly, her lips still tinged pink from their kiss. “I… I started this.” Her tongue darted out over her lips. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.” Noah’s hands dropped to her waist, his cheeks burned. He’s inexperienced, yes, and it shows, yes, but this is Liz. The last thing she does is to laugh at his face about it. “You?”

“You have no idea.”

His cheeks grow redder. “I’m, uh… now what?" 

"I think,” she leans in, tiptoeing, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and playfully says, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Noah grins, more relaxed now knowing he has her consent. “I think I can provide that.”

He let her set the pace this time. Kissing him softly and sweetly, but as equally mind-blowing as the first time before the next thing he knows, they are kissing senselessly once more; the next thing he knows, she swipes her tongue on his lower lip. Drawing a surprised groan from him. His lips instinctively open up to her ministrations and he is rendered weak when Noah feels her warm tongue delves into his mouth. He tries to follow her example, but can hardly navigate through his own mind every time.

He can feel her fingers toying and tugging his beanie off, her nails grazing his scalp and his desire rocketed. And this time, Noah isn’t afraid to act, as his hands on her waist slowly glide upward; from her hips to her ribs, stopping just under her breasts which results in Liz’s breath to hitch in his mouth. His mouth travels down her jaw, the length of her neck, her collarbone. 

When he finds himself on the bed, on his back, and Noah has absolutely zero clue how or when he got that way. 

He sits up. Without thinking, grabs her hips to pull her onto his lap, hands rough, settling her against him as he tips her head upward and continues his onslaught on her neck. Her hands on his shoulders, coming up to the strands of his hair. Encouraging him, guiding him lower and lower until his mouth reaches her clothed breast. 

“Oh my god.” Liz’s eyes closed in pure bliss, caught up in the sensation, and ground her hips against him and, fucking hell, the friction feels so good and erotic and sets his entire being alight that Noah isn’t fast enough to stop the low, rumbling moan that comes from his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Noah swears and rolls his hips in response. At this rate, even if he wants to, he can’t hide the evidence of his physical desire, growing hard against her, making her produce these small high-pitched gasps every time his bulge brushes her just right, her pupils blown to hell and fucking fuck.

He is dry humping Liz. Liz. His sister’s best friend. His Achilles’ fricking heel. Good fuck, if Jane was still alive, what would she say about this?

“Noah?” She whispers.

He doesn’t realize he’s been lost in his own thoughts. “Sorry.” Noah mentally clears his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you back there.”

She stares at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Did I go too far?" 

"What? No, no, you are incredible. Don’t worry.” To prove his point, he gives her thigh a distracting squeeze. “Liz, what if I say I want more? What if I say that I want you?”

Liz is quiet for a while. “Are you sure?" 

"Yeah. I know the last time we met I said I wasn’t ready for dating and stuff, but it’s you. And if you’re up for it, I’m game, but if you–” Liz chuckles at his stammering. Whispering “You’re fucking adorable” as Noah groans and hides his face on the crook of her neck. “Liz, you’re fucking driving me out of my mind here.”

“Well, I’m game.” Liz leans in and kisses his temple. Noah can practically hear her smile from here. “You know, for someone who seemed adamant on pushing me away, you’re awfully eager.”

He grins, running his finger down her spine until every hair in her body stood up. “Keep teasing me, and you’ll regret it, Mortimer.”

“Bite me, Marshall.”

Noah does bite, literally, on that delicious spot under her ear before flipping her onto her back on the bed, making her giggle like a drunken schoolgirl; making her dress hike up to her thigh, just enough for him to see her underwear. He settles himself atop her, right between her legs. His hips and an unmistakable hardness press firmly against her soft thighs. 

This is it, then. The wheels are in motion now and Noah can scarcely believe this is happening.

She props up on her elbows and begins undoing the buttons of her dress with great speed, eyes never leaving his until she pulls him for another searing kiss. Then Liz raises her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rolls her hips once more.

She moans softly, as Noah’s mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, nipping and sucking as he goes, until it finds its way to her nipple. He bucks up into her, growling, as he takes her other nipple in his mouth. His shaky hand makes to drop her legs away from his waist, yanks the hem of her dress upward and dips between her legs, slipping past the waistband of her underwear to touch her that she jolts, gasping and moaning loudly altogether. 

Liz writhes, her hands clutching onto his sweatshirt like a lifeline, head tilted back as her hips involuntarily move against his hand, desperate for relief. Noah inserts two fingers, watching with heated gaze for her reaction as he pumps in and out, long and slow, short and fast. Pushes deeper, crooks his fingers a little. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles until her moan grows increasingly loud and she comes hard, shattering into Noah’s fingers. 

When it’s over, Liz is a panting, limp noodle.  She lays there, properly spent, smiling contently at the ceiling with heavy, bedroom eyes. Noah hovers above her, kissing her nose with a newfound satisfaction as he watches her trying to even her erratic breaths.

“Whoa.” She breathes out. “I guess I should have known those hands weren’t made only for kitchen knives.” And lazily wraps her arms around his neck. “Jesus, I’m wasted.”

His teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his hand teasing her nipple again. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” Fingers trailing down to her warm, still over-sensitive slit again that Liz shudders like a flower. “Not even close.”

“I can’t–” And Noah freezes, thinking if he’s gone too far. “No more foreplay. Fuck me, Noah. Now. Please, I want you.”

In an uncontrolled frenzy, Noah pulls away from her, removes his sweatshirt while Liz assists with the buttons of his shirt. He works on his belt, freeing his member from the tight confines of his jeans and pulls her panties over her knees. Not bothering with the rest of her dress.

They kiss again as he repositions himself above her. Liz’s hand reaches down to grab him, guides the head toward her entrance, her legs once again settling around his waist. 

In his head, Noah mentally prepares himself, counts to five, then slides his girth into her. The two groan in unison at the joining.

“Jesus fuck.” Noah’s head flops forward, jaw clenching. He is inside her, and it feels a dizzying kind of spectacular. “Fuck, Liz, you feel so good.”

Below him, a crackling gasp escapes her lips, her mouth drops into a perfect circle as her head falls back to the bed and looking oh so beautiful. Noah begins to rock his hips into her, the strands of his brown hair brushing against her damp forehead, the parts of his brain that enable him to think slowly shut down. His hand wanders to touch every part of her body.

Everything is on fire. Everything feels so fucking good.

“Look at me.” She does, through lidded eyes, lashes heavy with arousal. “Say my name.” Noah never really thought he would be this vocal in bed, but there’s just something about Liz that brings this side of him. “Say it, Liz.”

“Noah,” Liz moans his name, clinging to him like mad, nails raking his back. “Noah, shit. Faster.”

Noah wordlessly obliges, liking the way she thrashes underneath him. Her breaths coming faster, higher so he moves even faster, pounding into her with reckless abandon just to show her how much strength he has. He finds himself growling rather animalistic against her skin, biting her shoulder. Feeling himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He isn’t going to last any longer.

He puts a hand between them to rub her clit and Liz’s eyes roll back.

“Ooohh, god. N-noah!” she cries out, her words quickly morphed into a desperate wail. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, please!”

Liz is a blubbering mess, screaming against the pillow. It is too much. The combination of his cock fucking her mercilessly and the friction his fingers provided on her sensitive spot is enough to make the girl convulse pathetically on the bed. 

When she comes, he follows not long after. Going rigid and groaning gutturally in her ear, emptying himself inside her.

When the ripples have passed, Noah collapses on top of her. Both panting and sweating from… whatever is it that just happened between them. Liz cradles him against her breasts, peppering tired kisses to his hair that is now sticking out wildly in every direction, locking him in her embrace, their left hands intertwining.

They stay like that for a few minutes, in a very much comfortable silence since she first set her foot here before Noah rolls to the side on the bed.

“Holy shit, we just had sex,” he says when he’s regained the power to speak again.

Liz chuckles and turns to face his side, sticking one of her legs between his while he pulls the covers over their forms. “Yep. Though, honestly, I never would have thought we’d end up having sex when I came here tonight.”

“Liz, I didn’t even know you’d be coming over. I can safely say tonight has been one hell of a surprise after another.”

She doesn’t say anything. At least not for a while.

“I hope you know I meant every word that I say to you,” she says kindly. “You’re not the villain in the story, but neither you are the hero. You are human, with your flaws and all, and I love you despite all of it.”

“Except you. You are an angel, Liz.”

“Noah, I basically turned down Connor’s marriage proposal, broke up with him and went straight into your arms in a matter of days.” She sighs guiltily. “No, we all just wear our demons differently.”

“Maybe. But you said it yourself, we are all just humans with our flaws and all. But you,” Noah turns and cups her cheeks in his hands. “you will always be an angel in my book. You saved me, Liz. When the whole world raised their torches and forks on me, you freaking saved me where you could have fed me to the mob. You’re the reason why I’m still here today and I love you for it, you hear me?” He pulls her into his arms when a tear starts to fall from her eye. 

“I’m so in love with you, Elizabeth Mortimer. Always have and always will.” He kisses her cheek. “You’re the kindest, most beautiful, the brightest human being I’ve ever known. I’m the luckiest person to have you be in love with me and if you’re up for it, I want to build a world around you.” He adds, “Instant noodles included.”

Liz laughs, still teary-eyed, shoves him playfully on the shoulder, feigning a glare. “You jerk. Always have the flair to ruin a moment.”

Noah chuckles. “Technically, you love instant noodles, so it’s only right, don’t you think?” She shoves him again. “And I’m your jerk now.”

“My jerk.” Yet she says it the same way someone says ‘my love’. “I love you too, Noah Marshall. And I want to build that world together with you.”

Noah smiles. Because he loves her and because for the first time in forever, his life makes fucking sense.  

Yes, he doesn’t know whether their relationship will last or will it crash and burn in the future, but at this exact moment, he’s happy and it seems that she does too. And that is all that matters now.

And if there is one thing that he’s sure of is that he knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go. Not in a million years.

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Unexpected Karaoke

Part 2.

~~~

Emily laughed again, a bit louder than last time, when everyone began clapping once again. She covered her face in embarrassment but grinned wide. “Ok, alright. That’s it, I’m done. That was your last one,” she said still smiling as she stepped away from the mic amid the multitude of protests and complaints. “One more,” Harry called.

“What?” Emily asked.

“One more,” Harry repeated. “Just one more.”

Emily huffed a little annoyed. “I’ve already given you two ‘one more’s’,” she complained. “I was supposed to inspire someone else to come up too, not take the stage for myself.”

“Please,” Harry asked softly. Emily’s heart skipped hearing the pleading sincerity in his voice and seeing it in his eyes. Even Jessie was surprised at how genuinely insistent he sounded. The rest of the room started pleading as well, some even chanting ‘one more’ over and over. She puffed her cheeks and let out a long sigh before turning in her heels to return to the mic. “I’m too much of a pushover. That’s my problem,” she said playfully as the room clapped encouragingly. “Alright, last time GP,” she said as the little drone began playing happily again.

*Used to keep it cool*

*Used to be a fool*

*All about the bounce in my step*

*Watch it on the news*

*Whatcha gonna do?*

*I could hit refresh and forget*

*Used to keep it cool*

*Should I keep it light?*

*Stay out of the fight?*

*No one's gonna listen to me*

*If I write a song*

*Preaching what is wrong*

*Will they let me sing on TV?*

*Should I keep it light?*

*Is that right?*

Having completely given up, Emily puts her everything into this song, even creating minor illusions on the walls to enhance the atmosphere. Going along with the song, she makes it look like the room has suddenly levitated high into the air above the city while everyone stayed in their seats and treats everyone to a sensory trip.

*Way up, way up we go*

*Been up and down that road*

*Way up, way up, oh no*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*Watch me stand in the line*

*You're only serving lies*

*You've got something to hide*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

Dropping the previous illusion, Emily brings everyone back to the room before giving the appearance the ceiling is on fire for a moment before ‘putting it out’ with a wave of her hand.

*Yeah, used to let it go*

*Walk into the show*

*Gawking at the tricks up your sleeve*

*Too good to be true*

*Fool, I'm in a room*

*Full of entertainers and thieves*

*Used to let it go*

*Woah, oh no*

The illusions cycle around again similar to the last set though rather than above the city, Emily makes it look as though they’re high in the atmosphere even going as far as to levitate everyone and thing in the room.

*Way up, way up we go*

*Been up and down that road*

*Way up, way up, oh no*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*Watch me stand in the line*

*You're only serving lies*

*You've got something to hide*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*Should I hang my head low?*

*Should I bite my tongue?*

*Or should I march with every stranger from Twitter to get shit done?*

*Used to hang my head low*

*Now I hear it loud*

*Every stranger from Twitter is gonna burn this down*

Lowering her voice, she gets close to the mic, voice trying to hide the anticipation of the final leg of the song, a mischievous smile on her face all the while. Harry and Jessie leaned over the table in excitement to see what it is she would do, everyone else in the room doing similar things though due to the lower volume.

*Way up, way up we go*

*Been up and down that road*

*Way up, way up, oh no*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

*Watch me stand in the line (whoa oh)*

*You're only serving lies (yeah)*

*You've got something to hide*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

The crowd, having been infected by her charisma, begin clapping in time to the beat of the song. After creating what looked like a fire ball in her hand, she snaps her fingers setting the whole room on fire including herself, her outfit changing from her green blouse and brown pants to a sleek black dress as she closed out the song.

*(Woah oh, yeah)*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

Raising her arms with dramatic flair two large wings appear behind her wreathed in flame, even her eyes and hair seemed to glow from the display.

*We burn it down, we burn it down*

*We gon' burn the whole house down*

As quickly as it appeared, the illusions of her fire, dress and wings disappear leaving her and the room as they were before. Stunned silence followed and Emily just grinned. “How’s that for a finale?” She asked. After a brief pause a crescendo of applause filled the room lead by Harry and Jessie. Emily bowed and left the mic returning to the table Harry and Jessie were now standing at. “That was awesome!” Jessie exclaimed brandishing a bright smile. “How did you.....?”

“I made a field on the entire inside of the room and bent light to create the illusions,” Emily explained. Jessie mouthed the word ‘woah’ continuing to stare wide eyed at her. She smiled over at Harry and before he could say anything the young woman and her friends from before swarmed her with praises. “That was amazing!” One of the swooned. “Yeah, you were so good!” Fawned another. “Can’t you sing one more?” Pleaded the last one. “I.... uh.....” Emily stuttered in surprise unsure of how to answer. Jessie cut in and pulled her away by an arm putting her between her and Harry in order to put some protective distance between her and her now very enthusiastic groupies. “No, no, she’s done. Didn’t you hear?”

“Ugh, Jessie Wells,” scowled one. “Why do you always get to do everything cool?”

“Just lucky I guess,” she said smugly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a date to get back to,” Jessie said pulling Emily toward the door with Harry following close behind. Before she left, the young woman managed to grab Emily’s other arm and stopped her. “Make sure you come back and sing for us again, ok?” she said hugging her arm making Emily really very uncomfortable especially with the eyes she was making at her. “I.... uh..... I can’t make any..... p-promises...” she stuttered slipping her arm free and pushing toward the door. Once they left and were a fair distance away Emily was finally able to breathe and took the opportunity to smack Harry’s arm. “Hey, ow!” He said in surprise rubbing his arm. “That’s for getting the whole place going, twice!” Emily scolded. Harry smiled innocently and shrugged. “You were really good!” He defended. Emily glared at him, slight smirk at the corner of her mouth as she tried not to laugh.

“Why don’t we head back to the lab?” Jessie asked trying to change the subject. “It’s getting kinda late and I’m sure she’ll be expected back soon.” Emily continued to glare at Harry, who had begun to get nervous, still trying not to laugh as Jessie slowly pushed her forward. “Yeah, suppose I should get back,” she agreed letting the smirk slip allowing Harry to relax a little. “You live another day, Harrison,” she teased. Harry chuckled following them with a relaxed pace, Emily and Jessie carrying on conversation all the way back to the lab. “I really appreciate you guys showing me around,” Emily said as they walked the empty halls. “I had a lot of fun.”

“I’m glad,” Harry said with a smile.

“We should do this again,” Jessie added. “Maybe we’ll run into your groupies again.” Emily cringed a little pushing her a bit. “No, I think I’m done with singing for a while. In public anyway,” Emily dismissed. “What about present company?” Jessie asked. She paused and pondered the question. “I dunno, might put me into an endless loop of ‘one more’” she teased. Harry sighed with a smile looking down at the floor. “Alright, lets get you back home before you beat me up some more,” Harry chuckled leading the way to the breach room. Emily and Jessie giggled following behind him and they made small talk all the way down. “Give me a minute and I’ll have you back safe and sound,” Harry said approaching the command terminal when they reached the room.

“Do you really have to go?” Jessie asked. “You really do make a great addition here.”

“I’ve been established on that Earth,” Emily replied. “I’m pretty attached and rooted there. Plus, someone has to play parent.” Jessie chuckled but sighed sadly. “You sure there isn’t anything, or anyone, that could convince you otherwise?” She asked hopefully. Harry coughed over hearing their conversation and tried to look busy to throw off suspicion. “Well, I do have a reason or two to come back again,” Emily said with a smirk. “Even if it is just for a short visit.”

“Yeah well, who knows,” Jessie shrugged. “Maybe one day you will stay.”

“Maybe, you never know,” Emily smiled.

“And, there we go,” Harry said clearing his throat as a breach opened. Emily and Jessie turned to see a swirling portal bloom before them, Earth 1 on the other side waiting to welcome Emily back. He stood up at the top of the stairs while Emily gave Jessie a hug goodbye. “Time for me to go,” she said sadly. “Yeah, even though you should reeeally stay,” Jessie tried pleading again but Emily just smiled. “Oh! Wait, before I go....” Emily said running to the stairs. “Harry, I have something for you!” Harry blinked surprised at her. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she smiled before pulling out a small device. “I brought you your own communication relay. And some replacement parts in case anything happens.” Harry smiled wide and laughed. “Ah, so you did!”

Emily nodded with a smile. “Now you don’t have to steal Jessie’s.”

“Yes, finally!” Jessie cheered from below. Emily glanced back with a smile before returning her attention to Harry. “I have a few frequencies already programmed in,” she explained. “Jessie is first and foremost. Then your Lab, then Earth 1’s lab, then Cisco....”

“Are you programmed in there somewhere?” Harry asked hopefully. Emily smiled raising an eyebrow. “After Cisco is me. You can get ahold of me even if I’m off world.”

“I can?” He asked

“You can,” she confirmed. “Just, try not to make midnight or later calls a regular or frequent thing? A girl needs her sleep.” Harry paused before laughing again. “That’s no fun,” he half whined. “But sure, I’ll try to do that only 5 times a week.” Emily pursed her lips crossing her arms and tapped a foot. “Kidding,” Harry recovered. “Not that often anyway.”

“Mhmm...” Emily muttered before turning around. Harry smiled innocently as she headed back down and gave Jessie one last hug goodbye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he behaves,” Jessie said with a wink. Emily smiled and waved goodbye to Harry, turning on her heels she walked into the breach and back home.

The breach room on Earth 1 was dark when she arrived as it was quite late and everyone had long since left for home. Sighing deeply Emily made her way up to her accommodations, becoming aware of how tired she was as she got closer to her bed. Perhaps she would just sleep in her cloths tonight, it seemed like much too much work to change. As she rounded the corner with her room in sight she got a surprise call on her relay. Opening her holo-headset she was surprised to see Harry. “Harry, hey! What a surprise,” she said rubbing her eye.

He chuckled. “Hi, yeah, it’s me. Just wanted to.... test it out. You know, make sure it worked.”

“You doubt my engineering skills?”

“I— wha— no, I—“ he stuttered making Emily giggle. “I’m just teasing....” she said tiredly. “Was this a bad time?” He asked after a pause noting her sleepy voice. “No no, you’re fine,” she dismissed. “I just..... didn’t realized how ragged you ran me today. Haven’t gotten to bed yet.”

“Ah, I see. Ok....” he trailed off. Emily giggled tiredly. “Harry.... you still there....?” she asked after a long pause. “.....Yeah?” His voice cracked. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Ok.... well I have..... to get some sleep.....” she said in drawn out sleepy sections before yawning. “The team will be here in a few hours after all....”

“Ah...r-right....” Harry paused. “Goodnight then.”

“Goodniiiiiight Harry....” Emily trailed tiredly before flopping down on her bed. She fell asleep shortly after her head hit the mattress leaving her relay open, Harry stayed connected for a few minutes listening to her soft breathing. He hadn’t realized how long those few minutes were until Jessie walked by his door. “Hey, why are you still up?” She asked squinting from the light of the relay.

“Oh, uh, just.... testing the relay,” he stuttered. “Just making sure it works. That’s all.”

“C’mon dad, Estrata made it. You know it works.” Jessie said with a slight yawn.

“No, I did not,” Harry protested. “It’s new technology, something I didn’t make myself so I needed to test it.” Jessie just smirked mischievously at him. “You just wanted her to be your first call, didn’t you?”

“I— wha— no! That’s silly,” Harry tried denying. “Shouldn’t you be in bed??” Jessie rolled her eyes. “Sure dad, whatever you say. Goodnight, don’t stay up too late,” she said continuing on to her room. Harry sat in the dark trying to calm the embarrassment that was slowly trying to write itself over his face from having been caught. It honestly surprised him with how bothered being “caught” made him, had he really become that fond of her? He pondered the revelation and got butterflies, a smile appearing on his face. It had been a while since he felt remotely like this and it scared him. She had warned she could be ripped away at any moment through no intent of her own, if he did indeed feel the way he thought he did he wasn’t sure he could handle another loss like that. Still, he didn’t particularly dislike the feeling. He would have to take things slow and see, and under no circumstance let Jessie know. *She will never leave me alone about this,* he thought to himself. Pausing one last time he finally closed the connection and stood. “Maybe I’ll call her tomorrow,” he mused to himself shuffling to his room. “This will be interesting.....”

————————••••••••————————

~Fin~

Hope you enjoyed! Lemme know what you think! 🥔🎨

[joonsdragoneyes]

Wizard’s Cottage

Genre: Fluff, fantasy, some angst

Warnings: Small mentions of past violence, mentions of and minor descriptions of injury, mentions of food and eating, some angst

Word count: 1.2k

You’ve been staying at this lovely cottage in the woods for a a few months. You didn’t remember how it happened. You just remember waking up in a comfy bed, in a room that wasn’t yours. Since then you’ve been fed and taken care of. You’ve grown close to the owner of the cabin during that time, a sweet wizard by the name of Namjoon. By now you considered him a friend, and you were able to somewhat walk again, which means you’ll be able to go home soon. So why did you feel so sad.

The aged stairs creaked from under you, your hip aching with each step. Your thigh was sweaty and itchy under the tight bandages, the limb trembling weakly as you hobbled down. The smell of herbs filled your senses as you grew closer to the lower floor, your stomach growling. 

Namjoon turned to face you as you finally reached the bottom, a smile spreading across his face. He was already fully dressed, his hair slightly damp- you assumed due to it still being wet outside from last nights rain. As you drew closer to his tall form, you noticed how much he smelled like the outdoors.

“You’re up! You seem to walking well.”

“Ah, it still hurts, but I manage.” You groaned a bit, plopping down into one of the surprisingly soft wooden seats. A couple of baskets full of various plants rested on the counter tops, drops of water slowly sliding off onto a small striped towel. 

“What’re you making? It smells really good.” Your stomach growled once again, and you could feel yourself beginning to salivate. You woke up later than you usually would, and for the the first time in a while your appetite was as big as normal. 

“It’s a surprise.” He spoke, his voice soft. “It’s almost done, though. I can hear your stomach from here.” You heard him chuckle, your face starting to burn. You hated how his jokes made your ears burn, your heart skipping in your chest when he said something he noticed about you. He remembered so much about you, and you felt comfortable when he took care of you.

The soft clink of a cup was heard next to you, the smell of peppermint and lavender emanating from it. “This should help with some of the pain.” Flustered, you mumbled out something along the lines of a ‘thank you’, his smile still present as you took a long sip. Your felt your body warm immediately as you leaned against the back of the chair.

“This is really good.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” He sat across from you, setting the plate down in front of you. The heat of the freshly cooked food hit you immediately, you practically able to taste it just from the smell. “Oh, it looks so good.” You drooled, taking a bite. The flavor exploded in your mouth, the peppers and onions crunchy compared to the rice and zucchini. “Ah, that’s so good~” 

He laughed as you took another large bite, a loud sound, but one that brought you joy. “You almost swore, I figured that was a good thing.” He joked, his eyes bright as he grinned. “Would you like some more?”

“Yes.” You lifted up to meet his gaze. “Ah, you’re not eating.”

An eyebrow lifted a little, the cape around his shoulders flopping over the side of the chair as he leaned forward to stand. “I already did before you got up. Did you want to eat together?” 

A cough escaped, your ears burning slightly at the offer. “Ah, uh-” You shuffled, your hip aching slightly at the movement. “No, not if you already ate.”

He frowned, his lips forming into a pout. The sight made your heart flutter once again. He had a habit of doing that.

“Later then.” He stepped away from the chair. “I’ll make lunch and we can eat together. That sounds fun.”

You watched him set another full plate down, you beginning to eat immediately. A date. You were going on a date.

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at him as he sat down once again. “You’ve already done so much to take care of me.” His eyes widened at your words, his head coming to rest on the palm of his hand. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Isn’t that something that friends do?”

Something about his question sounded genuine, as if he really didn’t know what to do. You didn’t remember much about how you got here, hurt, or much of anything about him. His deep brown eyes felt so familiar by now though, and the sun pooling into them was a sight to behold. So it surprised you that he didn’t know. Had he lived alone before this?

“It is. But, do you really want to?”

He nodded excitedly. “Yes, of course! Taking care of you was no issue, and it’d be nice to spend time with you. We’re friends after all. It’d be so fun to talk like we used to.”

He was right. You had been in so much of a hurry to heal and go home that recently you had stopped talking to him. Your late night conversations and the time you spent laughing and talking about your lives- it all just stopped. Honestly, you missed him. It would be nice to be around him again.

“It would.” You smiled. “Hey, Joon?”

“Yes?” His eyes focused on you, the brown melting into yellow at the light flooding in through the windows. His eyes alone seemed to be magic, as if they held centuries of stories within them. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Thank you. I’ll remember this when I go home.” Your voice had lowered, his expression unreadable as his eyes darkened. His full lips pressed together, his brows furrowing together for a split second before he leaned back against the chair. “Right...home.” His eyes were dull, almost black now, the sky outside seeming to darken along with him. 

“Are you okay?” You leaned forward. The wind outside picked up, whining through the open windows. “Yes, I’m fine. How are your bandages?” He suddenly changed the subject, slipping around the table to bend down. 

The whining of the wind outside continued, rain starting to pour as it grew darker and darker. You watched the man carefully remove your bandages. You had stopped bleeding a while ago, scabs now present where your leg was once open. Your leg, knees and hips were still badly bruised, but you seemed to be healing well. “Looks like you won’t need these anymore.”

“Joonie, do you want me to go home?”

He paused, standing up as he went to dispose of the old bandages. The rain outside only grew stronger.

Did you want to go home?

“It’s nice to have a friend around.” His steps could be heard in the otherwise quiet room, the smell of the rain snaking in through the windows. “But you have a home. Your family must miss you.”

“To be honest, I don’t know where my home is. I feel like I’ve always only known here, with you. I...don’t know if I want to go.”

The room grew deathly quiet, the rain and wind seeming to calm down as quickly as it started. Your breathing was slow, your mind racing as you tried to think of something to say. 

His arms suddenly caged around you, his hands soft against your skin. His form was strong and hot against your own, as if he could crush you in an instant, but simply chose not to as he pulled you close. He had never hugged you before. Even touching you to take care of you seemed to worry him greatly, yet this gentle and surprisingly intimate gesture was welcomed. 

“Keeping you is selfish.”

Your arms wrapped around him in return, your hands cautiously running through his soft, shiny hair. “I only know here.”

Your heart was racing, the feeling of a soft kiss on your cheek making you warmer than he was. “Then you’ll stay. I can be your home until you can find yours.”

[harrysbbby]

European Adventure Part 5 - Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: im backkkkk! im so sorry for the delay but i went to a music festival and got absolutely wrecked and now college has gone back so uploads wont be as frequent but i hope you all enjoy this part!

You and Peter strolled along the streets of Prague, a brisk breeze and shared nervousness causing both your teeth to chatter slightly amidst your fumbling awkwardness. You both searched for the words to begin the conversation but failed, continuing to walk in silence. Your bag was slung over your shoulder, holding the very valuable piece of evidence you were going to present to Peter to either confirm or deny your suspicions.

You made your way over a bridge, arms swinging by your sides. With one swift movement the back of your hands brushed. You both quickly pulled them into yourselves, looking at one another and smiling gawkily. Peter chuckled,

“Sucks that the trip got cancelled.” He said, you nodded.

“Yeah really sucks...” there was a lapse of silence before you spoke again, “especially because you didn’t get to complete your plane, hey?” With this sentence your heart gave a pang, but you masked it but looking at the ground.

“Wait- what plan?” Peter’s voice went up at octave as he asked, genuinely confused. His heart lurched as the first thing his mind went to was the elementals and-

“You know with MJ?” you said, raising your eyebrows as if your answer was obvious. He screwed his face in confusion, so you continued, “you know, Paris, the necklace…” you trailed off. Your voice trembled slightly with the hurt you were feeling knowing that the plan was not intended for you, but also because of your inclination that Peter is Spider-Man.

“What?” he queried. He looked at you astonished- mainly because he had not thought about this plan since the bus to Prague. That when he knew Brad had that photo of him he was petrified he was going to show MJ the photo. But ever since you helped him, without judging, without knowing the full situation- hell, you even distracted the whole class, so he could jump out the emergency exited- he started to see you differently. (Especially after accidentally seeing your texts with your sister, thanks to Edith).

You were just the girl in a couple of his classes, the one he had hung out with on the trip, the one who gave him advice on how to get MJ, the one who had made his heart flutter when you asked to do something together and then made his heart sink when he had to bail for saving-the-world-duties. That’s why he had agreed to hang out with you- to spend more time with you, develop his feelings, and maybe tell you he was over MJ.

“Oh that plan,” he clarified, “oh yeah…” he said quietly before perking up again, “actually, NO!”

His sudden rise in volume made you jump slightly. You turned to him and he did the same, stopping in the middle of the bridge.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, “I mean, I have a new plan actually. And I wanted to speak to you about it- “

“I wanted to talk to you about something too.” He was taken aback by your words but nodded, indicating for you to continue.

You took a deep breath before letting the words you had been dwelling over for day leave your lips:

“Is your new plan to do with Spider-Man?”

His face whitened. His eyes widened. You saw his breathing begin to sharpen. His brows pulled together as he tilted his head to side.

Peter was freaking out- how did you figure it out? He knows he hasn’t been the most discrete he could have been about it, but he didn’t actually think you’d put the dots together. He ever had the stealth suit made so that this exact thing would not occur.

His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he racked his brain for the right words to say, highly aware that the longer it took to do this, the less he was helping his case.

“What!” his voice squeaked as he narrowed his eyes at you, “No! What!” Me, Spider-Man? I’m not- no way! What, um, what gave you that impression?” he stumbled over his words, crossing his arms in an attempt to act nonchalantly.

You pursed your lips together, finding his words unconvincing.

“Well Peter, I mean there was the white string coming out of you in Venice. The ride to Prague where you literally jumped out of a moving bus! The fact you ditched the Opera and then showed up where the monsters were- you knew my name!”

“Have you been watching me, Y/N?” he asked coyly, raising and eyebrow. You were caught off guard- maybe you had been watching him, you did in fact like him, so it was hard to not watch him- but you played it off by scoffing.

“No!” you said (unpersuasively), “and stop trying to change the subject.” You said sternly, pointing your finger at him. He uncrossed his arms and let his shoulders relax, looking at your sincerely.

“I’m not Spider-Man,” and you could’ve almost believed him, “besides that guy last night was Night Monkey.”

“Then why does Night Monkey have the same webs as Spider-Man?” you said, digging your hand into your bag and fishing out the silver contraption. You handed it to Peter, and he took it curiously, seemingly dropping his façade.

He looked at perplexedly, “What is this?”

“I have no idea, it just came off your web last night-“

“Hey, I said it wasn’t me!” he said almost sharply.

“Then where were you last night?” you countered.

“I was sick…” he said slowly. You rolled your eyes slightly.

“You were the last one to come back!”

“I got lost,” he tried to convince you again, but his attempts fell short.;

“Peter-“ you said, beginning to become extremely irritated, but your frustrations were cut short when a beaming light emitted from the silver object. Peter dropped it as it cast a scene in between the two of you.

The monster was swirling around above you before it disappeared.

“What did you do?” you asked.

“I barely touched it,” Peter grumbled, bending down to inspect the device. “What..” he whispered to himself lightly grazing his fingers along the metal and over the- his?- webs. “Does this mean-“

“is all fake?” you said finishing his sentence. You both looked at each other perplexed. Peter picked up the device holding it between the two of you.

“But we were there, everything was real- the destruction, the fire-“

“Wait, we? Peter you just said-“ he ignored you as he continued to ponder.

“Who would do something like that?” his question was answered as quickly as it was asked. The device began to project again, but this time, swirling around the monster was a trail of puffy green smoke…

“Mysterio.” You said, looking back at Peter. He was already looking at you, eyes opened as wide as they could, a look of sheer terror on his face.

“Y/N” he started, “I am Spider-Man” – your heart skipped at the confession- “And I messed up really bad.” He said, cringing at the end of his sentence.

“Wait, you are Spider-Man?” you clarified. He nodded, his face still fear-stricken. “You’re being serious with me right now?!” you screeched.

“Yes, I am. I’m Spider-Man and I need your help.”

“Oh my god, Peter! You’re SPIDER-MA…” you were cut off by his hand covering your mouth.

“Don’t shout it out for everyone to hear! Come on, I’ll explain everything on the way back to the hotel.” He said, taking your hand in his and leading you back along the bridge. Your heart was already beating fast from the confirmation of your reservations but skipped a beat at the feeling of his skin against yours.

On the way back to the hotel Peter explained what had been going on- how Mysterio had showed up and claimed to be a soldier from another Earth. How Mr Stark (who it took you a moment to realise meant Tony Stark aka Iron Man, once you realised Peter had the Stark “Internship.”) gave him the glasses aka Edith and how Mysterio must have been using the same technology to create the illusions.

“I can’t believe I gave Beck those glasses. I cannot believe I was so stupid,” Peter sighed, shutting the curtains in his room. “He’s probably spying on me right now,” he said moving towards his laptop, “or send drone to come and kill me.”

“You had access to killer drones?” you asked dubiously.

“Yeah” he said, almost too indifferently, “but I didn’t really want them especially after I nearly killed Brad.” He slammed the compute shit and walked over towards you, picking up his phone on the way.

“You nearly killed Brad!” you whisper yelled, looking at him scoldingly.

“It was an accident! Besides you helped me!”

You looked at him in bewilderment, “I didn’t help you kill anyone!”

“Oh no, like, you helped me stop the drone that was going to kill him. You know, ‘baby mountain goats’” he said with what you could only assume was a terrible attempt at impersonating your voice.

“Oh,” you said, nodding your head slightly, still confused as to how that situation got to the point that Brad nearly died.

“Anyway,” Peter said shaking his head, changing the subject, “I have to call Mr Fury and tell him that Beck’s a fraud, but I think he tapped my phone…” he said trailing off, looking up at you for support.

“What are you going to do?” you asked softly. You could see the cogs turning within his rich brown eyes.

“Uh, well I need my suit,” he said, grabbing the large black bag from the corner arm chair. “And I have to go to Berlin and talk to Mr Fury in person.”

In one swift movement he unzipped the bag and emptied its contents on to the bed, before moving his arms to the bottom of his torso and lifting his shirt over his head.

He turned to look at you in embarrassment, eye wide open. Your eyes however were drifting lower and lower from his eyes down to his toned chest…

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um,” he started, still looking at you but at a loss for words.

“Oh! Sorry,” you said blushingly before turning around. You hair created a curtain around your head, but you found yourself twisting slowly on the spot to have another look-

“No! That’s so wrong and pervy” you thought, but still found yourself trying to catch a glimpse of his abs through the gaps of your hair. You saw movement from the corner of your eye and turned to see the hotel room door open. There stood Ned, a look of mild stress on his face.

Peter turned around and saw his best friend and sighed, “Oh, Ned, perfect.”

“Costume looks great!” he spoke quickly, eyes darting between you and Peter. You narrowed your eyes at him, “for the costume party…” his voice trailed off as Peter shook his head.

“She knows, I told her.” He clarified, and you see Ned visibly relax against the door frame.

“That’s cool,” he nodded.

“Technically, I think I figured it out,” you said somewhat cheekily. You turned to Peter with your brows raised when a voice carried from behind you.

“See, another person figured it out Peter. You have got to get better at this.” MJ was now stood behind Ned, arms crossed across her chest. Peter frowned at her, but you could only see his eyes squint because of the suit.

“MJ knows too?” you asked.

“Yeah, I figured out a long time ago,” she replied, “like, a really long time ago. You know, you really should have a better hold on your identity by now…”

“We can work on better hiding my identity when I get back,” Peter interrupted, waving a hand dismissively at her.

“Okay,” she said looking disinterested, “I’ll pencil you in.” she deadpanned. Peter grunted, clearly frustrated with his friends antics before continuing.

“Mysterio is a fraud,” he explained to them. Ned looked confused.

“But he saved me and Betty’s lives. Y/N was there too.”

“It was fake,” you stated, “he’s using illusion tech.”

“He’s using these hologram projectors to create the whole thing.” Peter continued. Ned’s eyes widen whilst Michelle’s continued to be impartial.  

“Wow that’s…crazy.” He said anxiously.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking at Peter. Both Ned and MJ noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another. MJ’s lips fell into a smirk whilst Ned said,

“Were you guys working the case or something?” he laughed light. You nodded,

“Kind of, although, it has been mostly me,” you whispered the last part, bring the back of your hand to the side of your lips. Ned’s brows creased.

“Look Ned,” Peter said stepping forward, “I need you to call May and ask her to call Mr Harrington and say that I’m going to be staying with family in Berlin until this all blows over.” He spoke quickly, you having to blink a couple times to keep up and comprehend what he was saying.

Without hesitation Ned affirmed, “yep, got it.”

“Wow,” you said in astonishment, “you came up with that so fast. You lied so easily,” looking between the two of them in surprise. Ned chuckled humbly.

“Get used to it,” MJ said, picking at one of her nails, clearly not as invested in this as the rest of you were.

“I gotta go,” Peter said, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder as he moved passed you. As he opened the curtains you saw a glint of light reflective off some silver.

“Wait,” you stopped him, grabbing the projector and chucking it at him. “You’re going to need this.” He caught it in one hand with ease.

“Don’t tell anyone about this okay?” he said, “anyone who knows about this in danger.” You nodded. He pulled his mask down over his eyes and with a THWIP had swung out the window.

You let out a sigh and let your shoulder relax. Ned’s voice cause you to turn to him.

“So, you know too?” he said. “That’s cool, we have a bit of a squad going here,” he laughed comically, referring his hand over his should to MJ who was still stood by the door. “But you know I’ve known first and the longest… but it’s not a competition,” he assured.

You laughed slightly at him, “Okay, Ned.” You said turning back around to look out the window thinking- What the hell have I gotten myself into now?

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[pietrotheavenger]

learn to love

chapter 5 - ‘til i forget about you

summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.

warnings: swearing & alcohol

pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader, wanda x vision

a/n: this chapter is 4k words long you’re very welcome

series masterlist

steve didn’t wake y/n up. she looked so comfortable, tucked deep into his covers. her face was smashed against the pillow, her breaths leaving her parted lips in soft sighs. she hadn’t slept much the night before, anyways. it was better to leave her sleeping.

he freshened up before returning downstairs to his family. “where’s your girl?” sophia suggestively asked, wiggling her eyebrows. she was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

“sleeping,” he replied. “don’t you have some homework to do or something?”

“oh, fuck off,” she scoffed.

“language.”

he entered the kitchen, scratching his jaw. “hey, ma,” he greeted.

“steven, be a dear and set the table?” she set down a stack of plates on the island.

“sure,” he picked the plates up. “by the way, y/n fell asleep upstairs and i didn’t wake her up because i want her to get some rest. i don’t know if she’ll come down for lunch.”

“that’s fine. you’re so sweet for letting her sleep in. i’ve always said that you’re the sweetest rogers,” she beamed, pinching his cheek.

“thanks, ma,” he responded, sheepishly.

he headed to the breakfast nook where a bowl of salad awaited the family. “here?” he asked.

“well, if she’s not coming down, then yes.”

he began setting the table for the six of them. “so, what do you think of her?”

“she seems nice. i think she’s a good fit for you.”

“good fit?”

“yeah, i mean you can’t keep your hands off of her. and i feel like she keeps you on your toes.”

“she definitely keeps me on my toes,” he chuckled.

“and you need that. you would get bored if she didn’t.”

“you’re right.” steve continued setting the table in silence.

“does she make you happy?”

he pondered the question for a moment, pausing at his work. “yes,” he answered, genuinely. after a few minutes of silence, simon seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“what’s up, genitals and gentlemen?” he said, enthusiastically.

sophia cackled from the couch, but their mother gasped, “simon andrew rogers!”

“hey, i did not use any swear words,” he pointed out.

“that’s still vulgar.”

“it’s funny, though,” steve giggled.

“you kids drive me crazy,” she sighed as steve and simon high fived.

lunch was pleasant aside from steve being grilled on y/n. it was nice for the family to be back together like nothing had changed. “why don’t we talk about sawyer’s girlfriend?” he tried to steer them away from the topic of him and y/n.

“no!” sawyer yelled.

“we know enough about gina,” his mother waved them off. “however, y/n…” she trailed off.

“well, her favorite color is yellow, she likes sunflowers and strawberries, she can’t hold her liquor, and she’s really good at cooking but hates doing it,” he blurted out any information about her that he could think of. “okay? is that enough information for you guys? can i get back to my salad?” he looked at all of them carefully.

“y/n can’t hang,” sophia snickered.

“neither can you,” he retorted.

“no fair!”

“listen here, you gremlin-”

“enough!” joe yelled. “we’re having a nice family lunch, okay?”

“okay,” steve and sophia grumbled.

the rest of the lunch continued smoothly. once it was over, everyone retreated to their corners of the house. rosie followed steve up the stairs. he let her into the room before closing the door. y/n was splayed out on the bed. she slept on her stomach, with one leg drawn up and the other straight out. the sheets were tangled with her limbs. he slowly unwound it from her and properly covered her. rosie jumped up onto the bed and laid down at the end, her head in her paws. “sweet girl,” steve cooed, scratching behind her ears.

he had drawn the curtains over his windows, earlier, but the sheerness still brought in some soft light. he examined the books on his shelves before pulling out one well worn copy of his favorite book, anna karenina. he hadn’t taken it with him when he moved out because he didn’t want to lose it. he owned at least a dozen other copies of the book, anyways. he opened the book up to the inscription inside the cover.

steve,

happiest birthday ever to america’s golden boy! picked up this book because the pretty girl at the bookstore recommended it. she had a lip ring. she told me i lived many lifetimes of despair with you if this was the book that i settled on for you. i suppose i may have lived many terrible lifetimes, but as long as i lived them with you, it doesn’t matter.

with you ‘til the end of the line,

bucky

he sighed, running his fingers over the fading ink. he leafed through the pages as he sat down with his back against the bookshelf. he had highlighted all the quotes in the book that he liked. he stopped at a random page and read the quote that he had highlighted on that page.

“he stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

y/n made a noise and he looked up. she was stillfast asleep. he continued reading along that page, and continued on with that chapter, and accidentally continued on with the book. he heard y/n stir. his eyes flickered to her and then to the clock. 5:57, it read. they were meant to go to dinner with the barnes’ and the maximoff’s at 7:30.

her eyes fluttered open and met his. “hi,” he whispered. she sleepily hummed back. he closed the book and set it back onto the shelf. he got up and sat down on the edge of the bed. he brushed her hair away from her face and let his hand stay on her face. “i’m sorry about earlier,” he mumbled, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone.

“s’all good,” she replied. she raised her arms above her head and stretched, emitting soft moan. “neither of us were at our best.”

“we’re going out to dinner in an hour. i’ll let you get ready.”

“dinner? what time is it?”

“almost 6.”

“oh, fuck,” she threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. she began rifling through her bag, pulling out clothes and toiletries. “where’s the bathroom?” she demanded.

“first door on the right.”

when she flew out of the room, he began getting ready, too. he took his time as he showered in another bathroom and returned to the room, a towel slung low on his hips. y/n was back and sitting on the bed, brushing makeup onto her cheeks. if she noticed him, she didn’t do anything to suggest that she did until he closed the door.

“stevie, could you-” she began turning to him but froze. “you’re naked!” she hissed.

“yes, i am,” he chuckled. she threw a pillow at him. “hey!” he cried.

“get your dick out of my face! and when you’re done with that, do you mind looking for my white heels in my suitcase?”

“anything for you, darling,” he rolled his eyes. he tugged on a pair of boxers under the towel before letting it fall to the ground. she tried not to drool at the rippling of his back muscles as he went through his suitcase to find a shirt. he settled on a silky burnt orange shirt. he buttoned it up and grabbed a pair of black slacks and pulled them right up. as he was doing up the belt, there was a knock at the door.

“it’s me!” simon called.

“you good?” steve mouthed to her. she nodded. “come in!”

simon opened the door. he was dressed in a forest green button up and dark brown dress pants. “mom said you guys have twenty minutes before we have to go. we’re taking two cars, by the way,” he told the pair.

“i’ll take y/n and sawyer,” steve offered.

“sounds good. maybe dad will let me drive his car,” simon grinned mischievously.

“in your dreams, buddy!” steve laughed.

“hey, it’s gonna happen, one day!” he began closing the door, but before he closed it all the way he said very quickly, “you look really pretty, y/n.”

“thank you,” she giggled. she finished swiping on her red lip color, and a moment later, she zipped up her makeup bag. “okay, i think i’m done with that,” she said to herself. she stood up and examined herself in the full length mirror. she wore a black maxi dress that had a plunging neckline and small yellow flowers printed all over. there was a slit up the left leg that ended near the top of her thigh. she layered the same three gold necklaces she always did.

“shoes?” she turned around where steve stood, holding her white heels out for her. “thank you,” she smiled. she slipped her feet into them, sprayed perfume, and picked up her brown purse. she pet rosie as she asked, “how do i look?”

“not bad, y/l/n,” he cheekily responded. “how do i look?” he spun around for her.

“your collars all fucked up.” she made grabby hands at him and he crossed the distance between them to stand in front of her as she smoothed out the collar. “better,” she said, quietly. “ready?”

“ready,” he nodded. he opened the door and offered her an arm. “shall we?”

“let’s just fucking get this over with.”

the drive to the barnes’ house was nice and calm in steve’s jeep. only god knew the havoc that simon was wrecking in the other car. sawyer was the shyest of the rogers but y/n managed to pull some light conversation from him. when they arrived to their destination, steve leaned in and whispered to her as they walked up the steps to the house, “he likes you.”

“of course he does,” she whispered back. he rolled his eyes.

they were the first ones to show up. mrs. barnes greeted them at the door. “steve! it’s been too long!” she exclaimed.

“hi, winnie,” he smiled as he hugged her tight. when he pulled away, he gestured to y/n. “this is my girlfriend.”

“oh, it’s lovely to meet you, sweetie,” winnie gushed as she pulled y/n in for a hug.

“it’s great meeting you, too, mrs. barnes,” she laughed.

“call me winnie!”

the trio was brought into the house where they met mr. barnes, better known as george, and their daughter, rebeccah. she had gorgeous chocolate brown hair and the greenest eyes.

“where’s bucky?” steve asked, looking around.

“right behind you, punk.”

the whole group turned around and y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the attractive man standing in front of them. he had the same glossy hair as his sister and piercing blue eyes. stubble dotted along his jaw, which looked like it could pierce through a sheet of metal.

steve crashed into bucky, hugging him as hard as he could. bucky was everything for steve. they had been best friends since they learned what friends were. “i missed you,” bucky’s voice was muffled by his shoulder. “you’ve bulked up, huh?” he commented. when they pulled away, he squeezed steve’s bicep.

“you know, i’ve been hitting the gym,” the blonde man flexed. he made eye contact with y/n and beckoned her over. he introduced her to bucky.

“it’s a pleasure meeting you. especially since steve has so selfishly kept you all to himself. but, i can see why,” bucky flirted.

steve put his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “alright, buck-” he began, but the man in question waved him off.

“i’m not gonna steal your girl off of you,” he laughed. “yet,” he added.

“y/n, how do you like your wine?” rebecca asked, interrupting steve who had just opened his mouth to reply to bucky’s pass.

“white,” y/n and steve both said at the same time.

“i can handle myself, rogers,” she poked him in the stomach.

he bit back a snarky remark and instead smiled warmly at her, “i know, darling.” she sensed the slight bitterness in his tone and made a face at him. he mocked her expression.

“you’re truly a match made in heaven,” bucky chuckled.

“he truly is something else,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“oh, tell me about it,” bucky sighed. “he thinks he can fight his way into and out of anything.”

“oh my god, right?! he’s the biggest dumbass i’ve ever met in my life! one time we went out clubbing and i forgot to bring cash. he almost started fighting the bouncer so i could get in. for what reason? there was an atm around the corner.”

“alright, honey,” steve laughed nervously, “that’s enough of that.”

“sounds like the time that i forgot to bring money to a high school basketball game and i couldn’t get in. he almost started fighting the security. back then, he was a shrimp. he would’ve gotten pounded into dust if our other friend hadn’t had some extra cash.”

“maybe that says something about me choosing forgetful friends?” steve interjected. just then, the rest of his family arrived, causing some commotion.

“i have drinks!” rebecca exclaimed, balancing two wine glasses and two glasses of whiskey in her hands.

“thank you,” he said, under his breath.

“i like this bucky,” y/n quietly told him as rebecca passed out the drinks.

“a little too much, if you ask me.”

she didn’t have time to ask him what he meant by that because rebecca spoke up, “so, stevie, where have you been hiding y/n from us?”

“i didn’t want to tell anyone about her because, you know, we haven’t been together for that long. i didn’t want to speak too soon,” he looked down at her. she returned his gaze but looked away because his eyes were burning into hers. she rested her head on his chest and smiled. he kissed the top of her head.

“you’re so cute together,” rebecca gushed.

“steve, y/n! come here!” mrs. rogers called from the kitchen.

he moved his arm around her shoulders and took her hand, instead. he pulled her towards his mom and y/n waved to the siblings they were leaving behind. she drained her wine just as they stopped at the kitchen island. he stood behind her, his hands on either side of her on the counter. her back was pressed into him. she put her hand down onto the counter, unknowingly placing her hand over his.

“let me help you with that,” someone said, taking her glass and refilling it. she looked over and had to keep herself from drooling. what was it with everyone in boston being unnecessarily attractive? he had curly bleached blond hair, greenish blue eyes, and a devilish smile. his biceps rippled under the fabric of his blue shirt. he caught her staring and smirked at her. “i’m pietro,” he said.

“piet! how’re you doing?” steve embraced him.

“great. we’ve been missing you,” he replied. she wanted to shove him into the hall closet and rip his clothes off.

“well, duty calls,” steve laughed. “this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

pietro pulled her in for a hug. she got a whiff of his cologne, which was heavenly to say the least. she closed her eyes and savored the hug. “okay,” steve said, tugging on her arm.

“steady, rogers,” pietro teased. “it’s so great to meet you, y/n,” he smiled. he had a slight accent to his words. she couldn’t put her finger quite on it. “come, let me show you my family,” he grasped her elbow and guided her away. she looked over her shoulder to steve, who was looking dejected. sorry, she mouthed. pietro then continued to introduce his parents, erik and magda, his twin sister, wanda, and his little sister, anya. wanda came with her fiancé, vision. he was a weird, british man. somewhere along the way, she also met mr. barnes better known as george. they all mingled and she finished off her second glass of wine before dinner started. steve came to find her and whisk her to the dining room. she was starting to feel the alcohol so she was giggling at him and poking him.

“alright, babe, stop,” he batted her hands away.

“hi simon!” she beamed as she collapsed into the chair next to them. “ooh, champagne!” she squealed reaching for the flute on the table. she began sipping on it.

steve took the seat next to her, placing his hand on her thigh. “sweetheart, why don’t you drink some water?”

“i’m fine, peach!” she kissed the tip of his nose. he felt his cheeks redden.

dinner went by without any major hiccups. at one point, simon and y/n were whispering to each other and she almost fell out of her chair due to laughter. simon had also been drinking so steve had to babysit both of them. he tried to keep them from drinking but there was no point in beating a dead horse. pietro sat in front of her and watched everything unfold with a smug expression.

after dinner, he pulled away to a secluded corner. they could see everyone, but no one could hear them. “can you cool it with the drinking? do you want to blow this?” he hissed.

“alright i’m sorry. i’m good. i’m sober,” her face changed into one of adorable seriousness.

“i know you may find pietro and bucky attractive but for the rest of the trip you’re kinda my girlfriend-” he tried to explain but she interrupted him.

“god the things i would let pietro to do to me,” she swayed, grabbing onto his arm for balance.

“that doesn’t matter. you sound ridiculous.”

“steve, relax. it’s not that deep.”

“don’t fucking tell me to relax. you’re the one who’s gonna fuck it all up for us!”

“well it’s not my fault that you can’t get a girlfriend and you’re afraid of facing the truth!”

“oh shit, my mom saw us,” he grumbled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the bathroom.

“steve! what’re we doing in here?” she struggled for second, but once he had locked the door, he let go of her.

“it’ll look like we’re up to something. set everyone off our trail,” he murmured, pressing his ear to the door to listen.

“whatever,” she rolled her eyes. she opened up her purse and pulled out her lipstick.

“i need a vacation when we get back,” he grumbled. he opened up his phone and saw a text from natasha.

how’s everything going with my favorite couple?

he snapped a picture in the mirror. he stood in the background with his hand in his pocket while she leaned in close to the mirror, touching up her makeup. he had to admit, they looked good together. he typed out a text to accompany it and hit send.

“can you kiss me so it looked like we were making out?” he tapped his cheek and turned his head for easy access. she grabbed his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. he stumbled backwards into the door when she let go. “what the fuck? y/n the contract!”

“fuck the contract!” she messed his hair up before throwing up the door open. he saw his reflection in the mirror before he was dragged out. he looked like a hot mess.

when they exited, anya caught sight of them, her big hazel eyes widening. she nudged bucky who looked to them then promptly choked on his whiskey. “steve,” he coughed then gestured to his mouth.

steve wiped his lips, knowingly leaving a corner. he carded his fingers through his hair as y/n dropped his hand and went to talk with mrs. barnes. mrs. rogers came rushing towards him like a train.

“have some shame, steven grant,” she scolded. she rubbed the lipstick off of his face while shaking his head.

“sorry,” he said, giving her a charming smile. he knew it was the smile that she could never stay mad at.

“you can’t help yourself, can you?” she shook her head.

“c’mon, ma. we’re just young and dumb.”

“and in love, clearly,” she grumbled.

he swallowed hard at her words. “alright, i think we’re gonna go home in a few. i told you she can’t hold her liquor,” he changed the subject.

“okay. don’t do anything stupid.”

“no promises,” he kissed her cheek. he mingled for a short while more before heading back to the house, a drunk y/n and simon in tow. he made both of them sit in the back.

“stevie, i’m cold. can you put the heat on?” she whined.

“yeah, stevie,” simon echoed.

“of course, honey,” he said through gritted teeth.

simon poked his head into the front and said, “pass me the-pass me the-pass me the-pass me the aux cord, man.”

the older brother did as he was told. simon fumbled with the cord for several moments before successfully connecting his phone. suddenly, at full volume, ‘til i forget about you by big time rush started blaring through the car speakers. steve flinched hard.

“fuuuuuuuck! i love this song!” she threw her hands up in the air.

“i get a call on random afternoon. i pick it up and i see that it’s you. like my heart, you were breaking the news. you say, ‘it’s over, it’s over, it’s over.’” the pair sang at the top of their lungs. steve knew that y/n had done choir all years of high school. he was surprised at how off-key she was singing.

“can i turn it down?” steve asked.

“NO!”

when they pulled up to the house, they both refused to get out of the car. he physically dragged them out. he threw y/n over his shoulder and pinched simon’s ear as he pulled them up the stairs to the front door. she giggled uncontrollably. she tried holding her head up but she physically couldn’t. simon yelped, trying and failing to slap his brother’s hand away. rosie greeted them at the door, enthusiastically wagging her tail.

“get to your room before i beat your ass,” steve threatened simon. he took her to the kitchen and set her down on the island. she kicked her feet back and forth as he got her a glass of water.

“i’m hungry,” she stated.

“you just ate,” he deadpanned.

“i want toast,” she said, laying on her back.

“butter?”

“always.”

when the toast popped out of the toaster, he brought it to the island. he began buttering it but paused when she wrapped her arms around his neck. she hugged him tight and didn’t let go. so, he continued buttering the toast behind her back. he took a bite before saying, “here, babe,” and handing her the slice. he began buttering the other slice. he stood with his legs far apart, and her legs in the middle of his.

“i’m having a great time. i’m glad you invited me,” she told him.

he couldn’t hide his smile. “i’m glad you’re having a great time.”

“being your girlfriend isn’t half bad if i get to get drunk and eat bread,” she remarked.

“yeah?” he tilted his head to the side as he bit into the other slice of toast. his heart fluttered at her calling herself his girlfriend, even if it was fake. it was the first time he’d heard her say it. “let’s see if you think that in that morning, when you’re hungover.” be smoothed her hair out of her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “let’s go to sleep.”

“carry me, steve,” she demanded.

“oh no, it seems that i’ve spoiled you, already,” he groaned, picking her up bridal style. she snuggled into his chest.

“i must be carried everywhere from now on,” she yawned.

by the time he had made it up the stairs, she had fallen asleep. he slipped her into bed. “you need to change, darling,” he whispered. she sleepily raised my arms. “i’m not doing it,” he added.

she pulled the dress off of her, struggling to get it over her head. “help,” her voice was muffled by the fabric.

he tugged the dress the rest of the way over. “where’s your pajamas?” he questioned.

“let me sleep,” she mumbled, receding into the covers.

he grabbed one of his shirts from his drawer and forced her to sit up one last time as he slipped it over her head. “you’re not getting makeup on my bedding,” he tapped her shoulder.

“suck my dick,” she responded.

he sighed in defeat. he dug around and found makeup wipes at the top of her suitcase. he pulled one out and began lightly wiping her face. he was afraid of putting too much pressure and hurting her. finally, it was his turn to undress and slip under the covers and into a deep sleep.

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @xxashy999xx ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @renanyx ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @dreamsfollowed99 ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ;

learn to love tags:

@youunravelme ; @cailin-lefantasy ; @thatoneslytherinbeater ; @clockworkherondale ; @clean-and-claire ; @tits-out-for-cevans ; @evverything-plus-anything ;

[randombtsprincessa]

Backstage Passes

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Seokjin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 6k-ish

Genre: Smut

Summary: Your meeting with the lead singer of Bulletproof ends with a night of frolicking!

Warning: Kim Seokjin (I know what I’m about guys), Reckless behaviour on Subway platforms, Heavy debts and study loads, Inebriation, Dirty Talk, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Jin’s usual narcissism, protected sex, A very *big* male member, Sexual themes, Surprise orgasms, just Jin being a lil’ shit.

A/N: I would like to thank @floralseokjin for Jin’s dick ;)

You were late.

Normally the hustle on the steps of the subway wouldn’t bother you as much, but today was one of those days. What with the bills pouring in and the stress of your degree bearing in, you had decided to sleep in for one day. That one day, your professor decided to hold a thesis meeting.

In short, you were now rushing through pressing crowds to hopefully catch a train that would get you to the campus in time.

You knew you shouldn’t have moved out from the apartment you shared with another student on campus, but you couldn’t stand the pounding of her headboard against your shared wall any longer. The awkward silences the next morning which let you both know that you could hear her vile screams every other night just weren’t worth it.

Finally emerging on the very edge of the platform, you leant in recklessly, looking both ways for whatever train went the direction you wanted it to.

“Hey, do you have a death wish?”

You turned to see a man right behind you, one hand reaching forward as if he was going to pull you back.

You shifted back into the safety of the yellow strip.

“I’m sorry?”

The man grimaced, or so you assumed from what you could see of his face that was revealed over the thick black face mask and even thicker scarf wrapped around his head. Eyes darting down to the yellow strip and then your feet, he waved a hand at the nonexistent distance between them.

“You could’ve gotten hurt falling in, died maybe. What else am I supposed to think?”

You clicked your tongue at the thoughtful stranger.

“I’m just in a hurry.” You tried hard not to sound snappish. After all, he wasn’t wrong; you were just not in the greatest mood.

“In a hurry to die?”

“I don’t want to die; I’m just late for a meeting.”

It didn’t strike you that maybe you could’ve just thanked him and moved places, somewhere farther away where he wouldn’t catch you doing it again. But the man was conversational and you were on a roll.

“I decide to sleep in for one day and my douche of a professor called in a meeting which he should’ve called a month ago. It’s really not my best day.”

The man, dark inquisitive eyes glinting under the stark lights allowed you to regale him with the woes of your life before you stopped, realizing that not only were you pouring out your life to a complete stranger, there were also other people around listening, some looking irritated at your chatter and others blatantly staring at you in interest.

Heat rising in your cheeks despite the high collar of your coat, you turned away from the prying eyes, his and others.

“Sorry,” you grunted.

You had only decided to pull your phone and headphone out to drown your embarrassment in music when you felt a hand on your elbow.

You turned in alarm to see it was the stranger again, hand curved around your elbow to tug you gently back, almost into him.

“I would just feel a lot better if you weren’t across that line.” He said and you wondered if it was sarcasm or genuine concern in his voice.

You blinked slowly up at him before nodding, trying not to acknowledge the slight tug in the gut you’d felt in your stomach due to his proximity.

You’re just lonely. You haven’t had someone show you this much sympathy in a while, especially a stranger. Get a grip.

Finally – finally when the train arrived, you were the first to board it, thankfully noting that not a lot of people were getting on the commercial way of getting to the university grounds. Aside from the ones already there, you’d have a chance of hopefully crashing at your friend’s place.

You glanced up when you spotted a familiar black clad figure sit beside you, worryingly looking at the ‘thoughtful’ stranger.

“Are you following me?” you blurted out.

You didn’t have to wait for the man to turn to know he had raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you ask?” he asked.

The question threw you. You might have expected an offended rebuttal; you didn’t know why he had gone with simpler words, posing a more complex question.

“I…well,”

“Don’t worry I’m not, I have to get to the university grounds as well. I have something to do.” He said.

“Oh,” you looked down to your hands, feeling silly. “Sorry,”

“It’s fine.”

You turned your head but found yourself looking to the reflection of the man sitting beside you time to time. He had removed the mask and scarf a little time into the journey and you had to say you gaped.

He was pretty.

He wasn’t just handsome in the conventional way, with the sweep of his elegant nose and plump pillow lips, he was gorgeous. A mass of black hair fell around his face, his fingers brushing the bangs back.

“So, what year are you in?” he questioned, almost as if he could feel your intense examination of his features.

“Oh, I,” you paused as he turned to you with a smile.

“We might as well pass the time somehow.” He explained gently.

It was probably not smart, the way you spilled further.

You weren’t a normally chatty person, but the way the man kept his eyes on you, waiting for you to go on further was a spur. You spilled everything.

As long as he didn’t know your name, you were fine right…?

At the university stop, as you filed out, the beautiful stranger behind you, muttering about how he had to go but he hoped he might run into you again, you realized that you hadn’t gotten his name in return.

Maybe that was for the best, you parting ways in mystery just the way you met.

You stared in non comprehension at your best friend, squealing as she jumped about her room.

You had learnt a long time ago to allow Siyeon her frivolities; her rich background making it easy for her to stay bubbly and stable while you sunk lower each day.

“Stop,” you finally sighed. “What are you on about?”

Siyeon stopped talking, her keen eyes flickering to you in concern. “What’s wrong with you? You look dead on your feet.”

You glanced away, mumbling something about deadlines before looking up at her again.

“What are you so excited about?”

“Didn’t you hear me scream? Bulletproof is visiting the campus today! They’re going to perform at Hoseok’s café.”

You nodded listlessly, interest fading soon.

Bulletproof was one of Siyeon’s guilty pleasures. She’d found their debut song on Sound Cloud, claiming it was her Nirvana and she’d religiously followed the underground band since. You’d seen her sporting their songs and flaunting their deeper lyrics on her notebooks but you had never actively pursued her mania with them.

After all, she was bound to move on sooner or later.

You wondered if their tour on your campus meant the beginning of another one of Siyeon’s obsessions while the one with Bulletproof subsided, now that she could see them in person.

“…Hoseok sent me exclusive tickets, two of them! So naturally, I told them I would bring you…”

You jerked your head up from your textbook.

“You did what?” you grunted in irritation.

Siyeon sighed.

“Y/N, we both know you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for way too long, you need to get out.”

“I can’t get out. I don’t have the money to afford both an outing and my electricity bill.” You reminded her. You were being crushed under debt and while you appreciated the offer, you’d rather not.

“Well, you don’t have to pay for this one, I already did it.” Siyeon said, flopping down next to you on her plush bed.

“Siyeon, you didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled.

“Hey, if I want to take my best friend to a band show, I can, okay? Stop whining and pick something out from my closet.” She was already up before she finished her sentence, throwing open her closet doors to display her vibrant selection of clothing.

Smiling a little at her over enthusiasm as she reminded you that you had exactly two hours to get ready, you closed your textbook.

Maybe one night out wouldn’t be so bad.

The café; normally decked out in shades of comfortable browns and creams had undergone a stunning change.

Deep reds, bold patterns and black draped over the surfaces, a small platform set up near the back beside the counter.

“They are the band colors and sigils,” Siyeon let you know as you trudged past the decorations, earlier than other patrons and made your way to where Hoseok, your friend and owner of the café was lifting beer bottle crates to the back of the counter.

“Girls,” he mumbled, counting heads of the bottles, “you’re early.”

“I know! I wanted to get the best places!” Siyeon gushed while you stifled a yawn. You were so going to bed as soon as this was over.

“Siyeon, it’s a ticket based show. You’d get the first stand anyway.” Hoseok reminded her but there was nothing that could’ve made your friend dim. She was giggly and skipped where she stood.

You studied your friend; maybe the band really was good.

You helped Hoseok carry out a few errands in the café until the time of the show, when he waved you away just as Siyeon arrived, her hand clawing at yours to drag you to the very front of the stage.

Not a lot of people had shown up, considering it was a concert show but the café was fuller than you had ever seen it.

Your sides pressed against the people who were clamoring to get to the stage as well, who probably listened to the band. Siyeon won the battle though as you both emerged, triumphant just as the curtain fluttered, signaling movement backstage.

“It’d be so cool to meet them after this. I got the special VIP passes from Hoseok.” Siyeon muttered into your ear.

You grinned at your friend as lights fell and Siyeon fell silent beside you, finally finding some peace.

It was a band of six members; you counted, watching them take their respective positions and instruments. What you found strange was that each of them had a hood of some thick material on.

You watched as the tallest man raised his hands to the microphone while Hoseok pulled out a megaphone from the counter, announcing the band.

“That’s the key, their bulletproof hoods. It means they are faceless guardians of their fans.”

“Deep,” you returned, clapping politely as the café broke into applause, signaling the band to reach up and pull off their hoods in synchrony, the last member, at the microphone doing it slower and more dramatic that the others.

Your clapping stopped immediately.

It was your stranger!

The tallest man standing right at the front of your best friend’s favorite band was the kind man who had decided to pull you away from a reckless position and listened to your ranting when he had zero obligations to.

You slowly lowered your hands and your head, trying to duck back into the crowds. Siyeon’s hand immediately gripped onto you.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting her to get suspicious as your stranger spoke up.

“Hey Armors! How are we tonight?” he crowed, amid hoots and screams of replies. The man at the drums, with muscles bulging through his sleeveless vest raised his stick to show a cut and the crowds went silent as the opening strums of a guitar, played by a smaller man flowed through the café.

By the time the second song finished, you had to admit to yourself, they were very good.

The angst in their voice, bled into the surroundings while the passion of the more upbeat songs even lifted you enough to bounce just a bit.

Siyeon cast you a sly grin. “Knew you’d like them, you just had to listen.” She said.

You ignored her, choosing to focus on the lead singer of the band, your stranger.

His hair was even messier now, probably artistic disruption, and his face mask and scarf was completely gone, leaving him in a tight black full sleeve with small rips revealing hints of creamy skin.

His eyes were closed as he hit a high pitch with enviable ease and spun the microphone in his hand, the words of the hypnotic effect of vice passing through your ears like cotton candy from his silver voice.

You were hypnotized alright and you had no confusion as to what vice it was for.

The man tapped his foot at the start of the drum sequence, the plush lips turning up in a broad smile as he looked to the audience and met your eyes.

You stilled immediately, finding yourself stuck to the ground as his eyes widened in recognition before crinkling as his smile intensified.

He waved. He actually waved; a small flutter of his fingers around the stand, easily mistakable for a simple gesture but you knew it was meant for you.

You smiled back politely, nodding as he resumed singing, but his eyes drew to yours more often now.

You had no reason to, but you absolutely blushed and you more than liked it.

The concert reached its end well past midnight, with Siyeon convincing you to spend the night at hers when she spoke up.

“So, I noticed you and Kim Seokjin having a moment during the show.” She said.

You slowed in your steps. “Seokjin,” you questioned.

She nodded. “The lead singer, he was eyeing you up and I saw you smile up at him.” she said.

I shrugged, filing away the name, “It was just some meaningless interaction, nothing more.” You told her as she led you to the office at the back of the café, repurposed to serve as a backstage for Bulletproof.

She knocked on the door and Hoseok opened it. “You are the only ones,” he advised, pulling the door open wider to let you and Siyeon in, “Don’t annoy them too much Siyeon.” He warned, earning an indignant smack from her which he dodged.

“Guys, this is Siyeon and Y/N.” he pointed you out. “Siyeon’s the one begging for your show here, huge fan. Y/N’s our best friend.” He said walking to the six boys who nodded to you.

“Hey, I’m Jimin, the prettiest of the group.” The shorter boy with the acoustic guitar spoke up, earning eye rolls from the rest.

“Yeah, right,” the taller one beside him said.

You watched as Siyeon went up to each member, quickly getting surrounded by the members as your own eyes went to the far corner, finding dark eyes already on you.

A shock of thrill went through you as Kim Seokjin peeled himself from the wall and joined you in your corner.

“Y/N,” Seokjin greeted you with a nod.

“Mr. Kim Seokjin,” you replied, feeling a smile bloom across your face as his own broke out.

“Found out about me, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Siyeon is a huge fan,” you explained and he nodded again, both of you watching your friend mingle easily with his members.

“What about you?” he asked curiously.

You shrugged.

“I’ve heard a few of your songs but my life hasn’t been exactly affording me to pursue any hobbies or obsessions.” You reminded him.

Seokjin smirked a little at that.

“Are we worthy of being your obsession, Miss Y/N?” he whispered.

You blinked, turning to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you?

“Well, you were pretty…good up there.” You said, trying not to acknowledge the heat flaring in your neck.

“Hmm,” Seokjin looked like he was going to say something else when a hoot went through the group near you.

“Y/N! The boys are taking us for drinks!” Siyeon called and her eyes squinted when she saw you standing with Seokjin before her pursed lips quivered; the tell-tales of a grin threatening on her face.

She’s probably planning your wedding already; your mind told you and looked shyly up at Seokjin.

“Oyo, Jin! You in?” The man who had sassed Jimin earlier called.

You felt Seokjin nudge you a little as he raised a hand to mime ‘ok’ with his fingers.

The small bar the band took you, Siyeon and Hoseok to, was small and quaint, just like them, the tall one who you found out was Taehyung, explaining to you that this was the place where they had started performing from.

It had a special place in their hearts.

Your friends had quickly blended in with the setting of the hyped band, ordering their drinks as stories were swapped and they divulged about how Namjoon, the lyricist was friends with Hoseok from their school days.

Seokjin stuck close to you, keeping the story of your meeting him under careful wraps. You had to thank him for that later, there was no way Siyeon would let you live peacefully if she found out the circumstances of your and Seokjin’s first meet.

“I can feel you trying to back out. Are you ok?” He asked suddenly, making you jump a little.

You smiled as you turned to him. “I’m fine, Seokjin. I just had a long day today.” Your words were heavy with implication and despite himself Seokjin grinned mischievously. “I hope you’re not going to be leaning over any subway platforms?” he lowered his voice a little.

You shivered a little from the sudden change in the timbre of his voice.

“I’m not. Siyeon is making me stay with her so for the time being, I’m safe from the threat of accidental deaths.” You told him.

Seokjin nodded, backing away a little as you and him turned away from the conversation completely, the bubble you were in with him seeming way more inviting.

“I was surprised you were in the crowds today. I didn’t think you were a fan when you didn’t scream so I was even more surprised to see you visited us backstage.” He said.

You nodded to Siyeon’s bobbing head. “She’s the reason I was there at all. She literally adores you lot. Plus she doesn’t like me being alone so she keeps dragging me everywhere.” You shook your head fondly.

“I’m glad. I’m happy that you kept her company.” He said, eyes intense again as he stared at you.

You bite your lip, eyeing him right back.

“I’m glad as well; you’re one intriguing man, Seokjin.”

“Jin,” he corrected gently, raising a finger to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear, “How is that?”

You leant in dangerously close, his eyes sparking just a little at your proximity. “You listen. Your songs are a reflection of what you’ve all heard in your lives and it’s so precious that you consider yourselves guardians. Not a lot of musicians do that.” You whispered.

Jin turned his head, taking a swig from the beer bottle and your eyes were drawn to the way his lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle, pressing and pulling against each other.

You clenched your fist tight. What else could he do with that mouth?

Jin glanced at you with a smile as if he knew exactly what were you thinking.

“I’d be happy to show you.”

You froze, had you fucking spoken out loud?

You spluttered around the pathetic excuse you were about to offer when he turned to you fully, a hand pressing to the other side so that he was basically caging you in. His head dipped so he could look you fully in the eyes, tongue sneaking out to lick at the plush petals of his lips.

“Y/N,” he spoke, low and urgent, “I don’t usually do this, but…do you want to get out of here? Go back to my place, maybe? I promise to get you back tomorrow.” He said.

You gaped up at him, the bold proposal processing slowly in your mind.

Did he actually just? Yes, he did. You glanced at Siyeon and Hoseok, both too engrossed in their conversation to glance at you.

“You want me to spend the night with you?” you checked in stupidly and Jin grinned cheekily.

“You can do more than that, if you want, but yes.” He teased.

Maybe it was the lowered inhibitions from the intake of the alcohol but you found yourself nodding your head eagerly.

You were surprised by a lot that night.

You were surprised when Siyeon happily let you leave with Seokjin; a man you’d only met that day, only hours before to her knowledge.

You were surprised when Jin chivalrously held open the door of the cab he’d ordered, hand remaining near your thigh for the ride over to his place but never quite touching you under the potential eye of the driver.

What you weren’t surprised by was the fact that even as he led you up his apartment complex, decent but not too large, you’d pressed up against him almost immediately, feeling his warmth through the slits in his clothes, shameless as you ran a palm down the expanse of his chest.

Jin grabbed your wandering hand as it drifted near his abdomen.

“Patience, there are cameras in this.” He warned, darting a cautioning eye towards the dratted red dot and you pouted up at it, Jin almost cooing at the puffy cheeks on you, your lips pursing adorably.

It was pretty obvious what was on your mind and he had full intentions of giving it to you. Despite his cool front, you could tell even he was getting impatient, the way his thumb drummed against the metal walls and his eyes fixed on the digital display of floors, a small crease in between his eyebrows.

“Almost there,” Jin intoned but you had no idea if he was talking to you or just mentally bracing himself when the door opened at last.

The hand Jin had placed against the elevator wall immediately found your back, quickly ushering you out into the hallway and against a wall beside the first door on the right.

You had barely any time to let out a gasp before his mouth was on yours, sloppy and a little off aim as he fumbled through his pockets, trying to kiss you through the search for his house keys.

“Aha,” he said, pulling out a single silver key on a black leather keychain emblazoned with the Band insignia. Sliding an arm around your waist, his other hand slipped the key into the slot, turning it as he opened the door, letting you go in first while he turned a light switch on beside you on the wall.

Jin seemed to press pause as you looked around the living room, viewing his space. It was fairly large but his furniture seemed to be cramped beside all the musical instruments he’d stocked up on.

Various guitars lay near the TV stand, sheet music piled on the coffee table and a rather large keyboard took up most of the sofa.

“Not all of the mess is mine,” Jin chuckled nervously behind you. “The guys find it comfier to just crash here when we work so all their stuff just stays here.”

If you had to be guessing you’d probably bet he was sobering up. Almost all your drunken brazenness had faded off anyway and you wondered if he would regret bringing you here and showing you this.

“I like it.” you told him firmly, turning to face him.

Jin’s face seemed extra youthful in the dim lighting as he stared at you, looking for any signs of deception but smiled broadly when he found none. His eyes quickly went to the sofa as he reached for you, large hands gripping the plush curves of your hips, pulling you tighter to him.

“I would entertain you here but um…bedroom?” he asked, an upward quirk to his lips.

You followed his glance to the preoccupied sofa and grinned, unable to help reaching up and placing a soft kiss to his lips. “Bedroom,” you agreed.

Jin swung your hands between you, leading you to one of the doors in the back. You clearly heard him mutter. “Gonna ask the guys to clean this shit up tomorrow.”

Jin’s bedroom was better.

A soft lamp was on in the corner and there were no instruments here. The dressers were dustless, the closet door shut and the bed looked clean.

“Much better,” he sighed before pulling you further in, his lips finding yours again.

You kissed him back for a few minutes, pulling away when he pushed away. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No,” you said, grabbing his face to tug him in again.

“Thirsty?” he pulled away again.

Shaking your head, he allowed you to kiss his again, pushing him towards his bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

You grunted in annoyance when he pulled away het again.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” he asked and you frowned up at him.

“I would never have come with you if I didn’t want to, now shut up and kiss me.” You gritted your teeth.

“Yes ma’am,” Jin smirked before finally putting his mouth on you, full lips tugging at yours as he sat down, your head hovering over his.

Your hands wandered over his shirt, the tight fabric making it easier for you to trace over his prominent muscles. Jin pulled you onto his lap, his back flexing with the movement as you strategically placed yourself over the slight bulge in his black jeans. Even with the barest of erections you could tell he was big.

You sunk the blunt edge of your teeth into the pillow of his lower lip, even as his hand slid over your ass. He gasped, hand rearing back to place a quick smack to your covered cheek.

“Freaky, are we?” he mumbled, spinning you to lie on the bed, standing up. He walked over to the dresser, bringing back something silvery which he dropped on the bed, pulling off his shirt.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, raking your eyes ravenously down his figure.

He wasn’t disgustingly muscled, the airbrushed ones you saw on gym banners always a turn off. Instead he was smoother, the planes of his body proportionate and begging for a rake of nails.

His stomach seemed to clench as he brought his arms down to slip off the long sleeves, eyes on you.

“Like what you see?” he grinned.

You returned the broad smirk. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I just wouldn’t want to disappoint you to run to the subway again.”

You groaned. “I told you, I was just running late.”

You were sure to be going on a rant again but Seokjin cut you off as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, leaving his pants on as his larger body covered yours.

“You ramble on a lot you know,” he murmured against your lips.

“Then shut me up,” you suggested with a pointed glance downwards and Jin’s eyebrows went up.

“Definitely freaky,” he commended, straightening up and undoing his belt, slipping it out of the loops and dropping it on the floor behind him with a dull clunk.

His fingers made quick work of his button and zipper, letting you barely peak at the band of his underwear.

“Get naked,” he said simply, rolling to the side as he began to shimmy out of the tight pants. You’d have found it funny, the way he sighed and let out tiny grunts as he worked the pants off if you weren’t so focused on getting out of your own clothes.

By the time you were done sliding the silk skirt Siyeon had put on you off your legs, Jin had successfully taken everything off – albeit nearly falling on his face once or twice (thrice), thanks to his pants.

You had been right, he was big, thrillingly so. His large palm wrapped around it gently, tugging and rotating his wrist near the head, a pearl of precum visible as you crawled closer to him.

“Still want me to shut you up?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, chancing a look up at him to see his hooded expression, thick brows furrowed as he carded a hand carefully through your hair with his free hand, turning it at the base so he was clutching a bunch of it. He pulled you to him, an authoritative tug at the base of your head, brandishing his cock near your lips.

You mouthed against the length of sheathed heat, feeling him pulse at the feel of your soft mouth near his head. You avoided the small drip, choosing to press kisses to the skin near the base, flicking a teasing tongue under the shaft. Jin jolted over you, not expecting the sudden move and he smiled dopily at you.

“Don’t fucking tease.” He growled; his face angelic and you obeyed, finally taking over and taking matters into your own hands, literally.

Your hand glided over his skin, the softer friction of your skin making him let out a relieved sigh.

“Lean back,” you ordered, lowering your mouth so you could take the head in your mouth just a few inches in, his glans heavy against your tongue. Jin obeyed, with a whine, strong hands supporting his weight as he stayed balanced on his knees, small jerks of his hips trying to push his length further in your mouth.

He finally succumbed, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to press you further down till you could feel him slipping into the back of your throat. You gagged, saliva pooling from your mouth onto him, dripping down his member before he was letting you go, letting you pull up for air.

A string of drool broke off when you sat back up, prompting you to wipe it off.

You grinned proudly, watching Jin’s expression fade from scrunched to stony again as he pushed you back till your head was on his pillows.

You parted your legs immediately, closing your eyes to calm yourself. It had been a while since you had done this with anyone. What with your studies and your work barely letting you breathe, you had no time for dating or hook ups. You had to thank Siyeon for more than just a night out.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You heard Jin ask quietly.

Your eyes opened, smiling when Jin hefted your leg over his waist, condom on now, bending over you with narrowed eyes. Humor glinted deep within his dark irises.

“Nope, I’m just, trying to remember what to do. It’s been a while.” You joked.

Jin opened his mouth, most likely to comment on your statement but stopped when he realized you were being honest.

“Wait, seriously? It’s been a while? Because basing on how you just blew me, I’d say otherwise.” He said.

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at how he was trying to make you feel better. It was sweet…hilarious but sweet.

“I’m fine, just get in me.” You urged, your hands grabbing his shoulder to pull him further.

“Ok, ok,” he amended, a light smirk visible in the corners of his mouth as he slid home.

Your eyes widened even as he let out a loud grunt, face scrunching again. He was…so big.

“I’ll agree that it’s been a while. You’re so damn tight…and so wet,” Jin placed his hands on either side of your face, eyes closed as he stilled deep within you.

“You’re just inhumanly big.” You retorted but he only took it as a compliment, eyes flickering open as he laughed down at you.

“I am, aren’t I?” He pulled his hips back till only the head remained inside you, pushing back even slower. “Am I the biggest you’ve had?”

His pace didn’t help you at all; your back arching. Jin was hitting all your spots, his slowness ensuring that you knew he was there but that you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by pleasure just yet.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I was. You look like you’re going to come already and I haven’t done much at all.” Another drag of his hips…

Jin placed a hand on your naked breast, kneading it as goose bumps rose up on your skin, the barest brush of pleasurable sparks lighting you up.

“I didn’t eat you out, didn’t finger you open, no prep at all but you won’t need any of that will you? My cock is enough, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you whined, hands fisting in your hair as he pulled out once again, this time completely, leaving you bereft and empty.

A keening wail was bubbling at the tip of your tongue, outrage at being left alone boiling in your veins when you felt the edges of his hair tickle the inside of your thigh.

Your eyes flew open, your elbows pushing you up to see Jin’s eyes fixed on you, his plush lips wrapped around your clit, his smirk visible even as he sucked languidly on your engorged nub.

You wanted to scream, especially when Jin winked, offering you a hand to hold near your stomach and the other cupping the underside of your breast, thumb flicking over your peaking nipple in time with his tongue.

Just as suddenly as if had begun, it was over, Jin surfacing in your hazy vision, your juices glistening on his lips.

“Sorry, I was just curious and you didn’t disappoint.” He lowered to kiss you again, his tongue pushing into dance with your. Your legs were feeling too heavy or you would’ve wrapped them around him.

Thankfully, he had the same idea as he reached down for your calf, hiking a leg up around his hip as entered you again, this time with a rough, brutal thrust.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m done with teasing. I wanna feel you creaming on me.” He growled, veins bulging in his neck as he braced a hand near your head while the other wrapped around your cheek, keeping you face to face with him.

Your whines grew louder with each thrust, the bed frame creaking under you with the movement of his bulk.

Jin took full advantage of your opened mouth, a thick thumb slipping past the seal to press down on your tongue, your mouth clamping down on it reflexively.

“Suck on it, baby,” he encouraged and you obeyed, eyeing him as innocently as you could. His eyes examined your expression with something akin to torment.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling the digit out to travel his hand down the length of your body, locating your clit easily as he thumbed the button. That definitely made you scream, a short cry of his name echoing around his room as you felt the ball of pleasure implode in you, shattering your very core. “Don’t look at me like that, Y/N, you’ll make me,”

Jin never got to finish his sentence, his voice stuttering out as he felt you convulse around you so violently that the tight seal around his cocked milked him even before he could stop himself.

He let out a similar yell, head falling back as he tried to cope with the power of the sudden orgasms you both went through.

Lips found his in a sloppy kiss, his head following it down to the pillow you were on; tongues lazy now that you were both boneless.

Jin rolled off of you, his miraculously still hard cock slipping out of you, the condom drenched in your cum.

“Wow that was a new one. I’ve never come without knowing I was going to. Fuck,” Jin dragged a large palm down his face, chortling tiredly.

You stared up at the ceiling, your ragged breaths so loud that Jin actually turned to you in concern. “Y/N…Y/N? Hello, still there?” He brushed back your hair, looking into your listless eyes as you slowly returned to earth, letting him turn your face to his.

“Yeah, yes, I’m just…wow.” You muttered.

Jin laughed openly now, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bet you won’t be thinking of jumping off subway platforms now that you know me.”

“Oh my god, Seokjin!” You groaned in answer.

[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

You continued your routine as usual throughout the next few months. The café was still just as crowded as it had always been in the morning, so you opted to visit during the evening. You and Chan had become well-acquainted before you switched the timing of your coffee breaks.

It was late autumn, - possibly early winter - and you hugged your black trench coat close to your body, nuzzling your nose into your oversized brown scarf. The café was relatively calm at this time. You deduced it was because of the absence of a certain blonde haired gentleman. Part of you missed his unapologetically flirty attitude that you’d come to enjoy, but your priorities chose a calming atmosphere over a cute, dimply smile.

Midterms were coming up and your book bag was ripping at the seams from the weight of your textbooks. You figured you would do what you always did this time of year and sip on some coffee while you studied. When you walked through the door, you were greeted by the Park family, and - though you didn’t expect it - Chan.

“Hey there, Y/n! Are you here for some coffee?” Mrs. Park asked. You nodded and held up your book bag.

“I’m in for a long night.” You laughed at the end of your reply, but you were anything but happy to be studying tonight. Mrs. Park frowned.

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was going to ask if you’d like to join Junyoung and I. It’s his birthday today.” You looked at her son. He smiled sheepishly.

“Happy birthday! I almost forgot- I got this for you.” You dug through your book bag and handed him a small, wrapped gift. He took it and inspected the outside. “Open it!” You exclaimed. He smiled excitedly and did as you asked.

His eyes widened a little as he looked at the tiny Rilakkuma figurine. It was something you had held onto for a few months after seeing it in the store. It screamed his name. The boy was constantly decorating his bags, clothes, and laptop with the character. He shot you a genuine smile and gave you a hug.

“Thank you so much, Y/n! It’s perfect!” He admired it again and ran upstairs to put it away.

“Are you sure you can’t join us?” Mrs. Park pleaded. You smiled, but shook your head.

“I’m sorry, midterms are coming up.” You explained. She nodded in understanding and waved as Junyoung rushed down the stairs. You all said your goodbyes, Mr. Park went upstairs to his office, and you took your seat at the bar.

“It’s been a while.” You heard a familiar Australian accent. You looked up at Chan and smiled.

“Yeah, it has. How’ve you been?” You inquired. He shrugged his shoulders. You placed your book bag on the counter next to you.

“Same old, same old.” He paused. “Missing you, of course.” One side of his lips pulled up into a smirk as he laughed at his own joke.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shooed him away.

“The usual?” He asked. He had a towel in his hand as he dried a light brown coffee mug. You couldn’t help but notice how attractive the man looked in his black dress shirt with its two top buttons undone. A thick silver chain hung from his neck and a gleam of white light poked through between a gap in the fabric.

You shook your head. “Surprise me.” With that, he smiled brightly.

“Alright. I will.” He shot you that smirk of his again and got to work. You loved the smell of the café; It was always so sweet and warm. You also had become accustomed to the faint scent of Chan’s cologne. Those two scents mixed together made your heart flutter, and was why you had changed your seating choice from the corner table to the center of the bar. You hated to admit it, but it was true. “Are you going to study at home?”

You looked up with thought. “I’m not sure. The heater isn’t working, so I’ve been avoiding staying there.” You replied. Chan’s face fell.

“That’s not good. You should get it looked at.” He had genuine concern is his voice, and you saw no indication that he was trying to mock you. You nodded.

“Of course.”

“You could study here. I’m closing.” He said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Your offer is suddenly less tempting with that information.” You retorted. He feigned offense, placing his large hand on his chest. You noticed his thick silver rings.

“Well, fine then.” He said, turning back to the coffee machine.

“I’m kidding, you big baby. I think I’ll stay. I’d rather work here, where it’s warm.” You said. You could faintly see the edges of his mouth curl up at your words.

You immersed yourself into your work, flipping through pages in your biology textbook as you scribbled notes onto some college ruled paper. You would occasionally feel a pair of brown eyes on you, but you didn’t dare look up. Little did you know, Chan was staring intently at your face. At your lips, in particular. He especially liked it when you bit your bottom lip in thought.

It took him an astonishingly long time, but he finally placed a cup of hot coffee in front of you. The aroma flooded your senses and you perked up instantly.

“What is it?” You inquired.

“Your coffee.” He said. You shot him a look.

“You don’t say?” He laughed at your remark and urged you to take a sip.

“Try it.” He said.

“What’s in it?”

“Coffee, water...”

“If I drink it, will you stop?” Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the mug.

“Maybe.” You rolled your eyes, lifting the cup to your lips. “Blow on it first.” You looked up at him over the rim of the mug.

“Uh- Why?”

“I don’t want you to burn your lips.” He replied.

“Don’t you mean, ‘burn your tongue?’” You asked.

“No.” He waited, but you didn’t move. “I mean, if you want, I can blow on it for you.” He offered, smiling. You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, but suddenly tensed up when his face came close to yours. He blew softly on the surface of the steaming coffee, eyes slowly finding yours. You looked down.

“I’ve got it, thanks Dad.” You said, moving away. He laughed at your reaction.

“No problem, Babygirl™.” Sorry. You choked on your coffee and Chan lost it. He began laughing uncontrollably, holding onto his abdomen. You would have rolled your eyes at another one of his flirty lines, but you were caught so off-guard that you just sat there with coffee dribbling down your chin. After a moment, you wailed.

“It got in my nose!”

After a few colourful words from you and mischievous giggles from him, you were back to work. At that moment, someone new walked into the café. The bell hanging above the door chimed and both you and Chan turned your attention to the entrance.

“Welcome, sir. What can I get you?” Chan walked to the side of the counter closer to the door. The man looked at Chan, then you.

“Americano. Make it quick.” He said.

Now, what happened next really ticked you off.

The bar of the café was very large, and there were at least five extra seats on either side of you, away from your bags and yourself, not to mention the twenty or so empty tables behind you. This man, however, seemed to have never touched on the topic of personal space. He slid into the chair to your left, staring at your textbooks as if to say, “Move them.”

You internally cursed at him and slid everything you had to the right. Chan was busy making the americano the man had asked for, the sound of a coffee grinder echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“College?” The man beside you asked. You didn’t look at him, nor did you answer. You scribbled more notes in your notebook and took a sip of your coffee. He huffed.

“Don’t you know that pretty girls should smile a bit more?” He craned his head to look at your face. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but have we met?” You raised an eyebrow. He smiled. His teeth were riddled with cavities.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

In my nightmares, is more like it. You thought.

You began packing up your bags in an attempt to be rid of this man and his foul stench, but when his hand found its way to your waist, you nearly jumped out of your skin. You wondered if Chan knew what was happening. You looked up at him to see another wet mug in his hands. He was working, not paying you two any attention. He walked behind you to scrub on the tables before closing for the night.

You pushed the man’s hand away and shoved more items into your bag. He scooted his stool closer, this time, his arm snaking around your waist. He whispered in your ear.

“Why don’t you be a good girl?” He seethed. Your eyes widened and you wondered how far this man was willing to go. There’s was no alcohol on his breath. You had hoped there was, to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was fully aware of what he was doing, and that made it even worse.

While you were caught up in your thoughts, you felt a strong hand pull the man’s off of your waist.

“She’s clearly not interested, mate.” Chan said. At that moment, you had never been so happy to have him there.

“What do you know? It’s none of your business, mate.” The man challenged him, smirking as he ripped his hand away from Chan.

The blonde boy whose eyes were usually so playful and happy were now stoic and cold.

“Get out.” Chan said. The man beside you didn’t budge.

“No. You don’t own the place.” The man’s knees brushed against your outer thigh, and you shivered, not daring to move.

“Get. Out.” Chan repeated himself, so much more malice in his tone than before. You shifted your weight on the stool, afraid of what might happen next.

~

Posted a few hours early because I couldn’t wait lol. How’s that for a cliffhanger? Sorry not sorry for that Babygirl reference lol. Smash that like button if you enjoyed~ Have a nice day!

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