#will be honest. Do not remember why i deleted this? sad but oh well its back now

[peri-shambles]

rewatched blink so this gets to be reposted

[h4nabi-archived]

Pity Party

a/n: This was a request from @lexy586​. I’m sooo sorry its late and for accidentally deleting the ask. But from what i remember, the sender wanted a fic about the reader being in either the baku or deku squad and the start to forget about them and then their birthday shows up. I changed it a little but not much so i hope you like it :))

∾ Bakusquad x Reader (platonic), Izuku Midoriya x Reader (platonic)

∾ little angst, fluff

∾ warnings: none

∾ 1497 words

8:30 PM

That's the time you had told everyone to show up to your dorm for your birthday.

But instead, you were lying face down on your bed in an empty room.

No one had shown up.

You didn't know why it got like this. One day, you were hanging out with the "bakusquad" and the next, you were just a thing of the past: no texts, no get-togethers, nothing. You were left all alone.

This wasn't something you weren't used to, though. If anything, by this point, it shouldn't even be a surprise to you.

Friend group after friend group, you were always left behind. Sometimes they'd have the decency to tell you straight up that you just "didn't fit in." But most of the time, it was a gradual process. and this was no different.

You could tell that everyone slowly forgot about you. It all started about a month ago when everyone was talking about a new movie they had seen. This was new news to you. Usually, Kaminari or Sero would text the group chat about any popular new film they wanted to see. But not this time.

"Oh, sorry, Y/N. I just assumed you would be busy that day. Next time I'll ask, promise," Sero said with a genuine smile.

At the time, it didn't particularly bother you. Hero training and all had been keeping you busy lately, so the mixup was excusable.

But these "mixups" became more frequent. "schedule conflicts" also became common when you tried to invite anyone out. Whether it was studying for a test or a sudden case of the cold, everyone seemed to have something better to be doing than hanging out with you.

You started to feel isolated at lunch, as well. Eventually, you had to move to Midoryia's table because it was all getting to be too much. No one batted an eye when you left. No one texted you to see if you were okay—nothing but radio silence.

It hurt being alone again. It hurt worse, knowing that you actually thought this time would be different at one point. After you had transferred to UA your second year, you didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms. But to your surprise, you were.

Kirishima had been the first to reach out to you. He was friendly, going out of his way to even ask if you wanted to sit with him and his friends at lunch. That's when you met everyone else. You instantly clicked with everyone. It took some time for Bakugou to warm up to the new addition, but indeed everyone seemed to enjoy your company.

You were invited everywhere with them: study dates, sneaky late night outings, movie marathons, everything. It felt good having such a close friend group, and you truly felt like it could work out.

Looking back, you could tell that you didn't really belong. The five of them had an already established bond, and you just couldn't compete. You stuck out like a sore thumb. Everyone else was so much cooler and stronger than you, advancing with their quirks and overall popularity, while you were always left in the dust.

Maybe you were naive, missing all the signs that screamed that you didn't belong. Or perhaps you did see them but decided to ignore them. Who knows.

Going to the messenger app on your phone, you immediately went to your shared group chat. You knew you would see a response from anyone, but still, a small part of you had hope. But that hope was crushed when you looked and saw nothing—just the dozen other messages you had sent with no response.

you looked at the time on your phone. 12:45 AM, the numbers seemed to mock you as you stared down at them. Your vision became blurry as you threw your phone down on the floor. Then a tear fell. Then another. and another. all until you were sobbing in your pillow.

You cried and cried until you couldn't anymore. You started to get a migraine from all the crying. You felt crazy. It was your birthday. You were supposed to be happy—another year of life. And yet here you were in your dark dorm room, with tears staining your face. You felt pitiful.

You closed your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep. And just as you were about to, a text notification sounded.

You didn't want to look. You wanted just to sleep and get this day over with. But soon enough, you were reaching to grab your phone off the floor.

You unlocked your phone and looked at the text.

From: Deku

Hey!

From: Deku

Happy Birthday Y/N!!!

You wiped your eyes and smiled at the texts.

You and Midoriya had grown closer since you moved to his table. You guys were the closest friends, but it was nice having at least one person still by your side.

From: You

thanks Midoriya :)))

Just as you were about to lock your phone, the texting indicator popped up on your screen. You waited for a response when suddenly the indicator disappeared. It didn't show up again, so with a huff, you locked your phone and threw it back on the floor.

You were alone again. You weren't sad anymore, which was good, but you were left with a sinking feeling in your heart in return. You turned on your side and faced the wall. You tried to make yourself comfortable so you could fall back asleep, but nothing seemed to work. The sleepy feeling has been whisked away, and now you were left staring at your blank wall.

You sighed and got out of your bed. Quickly slipping on a random hoodie and your slippers, you quietly made your way out of your room. Maybe a late-night snack was what you needed.

As you arrived at your destination, something made you stop in your tracks.

At one of the many dining tables sat Midoriya. His back was facing you so you couldn't see his face, but his slouched posture made him look tired. It made sense seeing as it was currently 1 AM. Next to him was a small slice of cake. Just looking at the desert made your eyes sting. Quickly you focused back on the boy and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you said as you sat in the seat beside him. Izuku, stunned by your sudden appearance, jumped and almost fell out of his chair. After making sure he was alright, a small giggle escaped your lips.

"H-hey Y/N. What are you doing here?" He looked like he had seen a ghost by how shocked he was. His hands quickly grabbed the cake and moved it in an attempt to hide it.

The whole scene was very suspicious. Raising an eyebrow, you looked from the cake up to the freckled boy. from where he sat, the moonlight shone on him almost entirely. You could see the deep red blush that fused his cheeks and the way his eyes looked everywhere but you. It was cute if you were being honest.

“I should be asking you the same question,” you moved to point at the cake, “What’s that?”

"This? Oh, um, nothing. Just late-night cravings."

“Cravings? Really?”

"Yes." He was obviously lying. It was painted right on his face. Sensing your disbelief, Midoriya looked down and pushed the treat in front of you. He looked down at his lap and spilled the beans. "Actually, it's for you. You know, for your birthday."

You looked at the slice. It was a plain vanilla cake with white frosting. Your age in pretty, pink frosting was the only decoration. Even in its simplicity, the cake looked delicious. Your eyes started to sting, and before you knew it, you were crying again.

Midoriya immediately looked up when he heard you sniffle. What he didn't expect to see was the wide grin on your face. You reached over and pulled the boy into a tight hug, knocking the wind out of his lungs in the process. His arms made their way around you and gave you a small part in your back.

pulling away, you turned and looked at the cake again. "Thank you, Midoriya. I'm really thankful."

"It's the least I can do. We are friends, after all."

You guys were friends. Midoriya had always been nice to you. Checking on you when you first moved to his table suddenly, helping you with homework you’d usually ask bakugou to help you with, making you feel included in his group, and the list goes on and on. You weren’t alone. You had friends who cared.

Midoriya pulled out two plastic forks and handed it on to you. After you two said your thanks, you dig into the cake.

It might not have been what you initially planned, but you wouldn't have chosen to spend your birthday any other way than this.

[cherryobx]

I'm all yours//Rafe Cameron x reader

request: "Hii!! I love your writing! What if Rafe and Y/N have a fling, but he doesn’t make a move or show his motives, so she starts distancing herself from him. Later he finds out that she’s been going out with another guy (totally up to you to decide whether it’s obx character or fictional) and decides to have a conversation with her about what they are (he’s a liiitle too jealous and it makes her mad, but they work it out after a small fight). That’s it!! Hope you like it, have a great day🥰"

summary: Rafe realizes something when he hears that you're seeing someone

warnings: language, mentions of sex (but no smut!), FWB, angst

WC: 1.7k

(not my gif, creds to the owner!)

He was never there when you woke up. It was like a tradition at this point. He always left without you noticing. Of course, some mornings you wished that he’d stay a little longer and just hold you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But that was Rafe Cameron we’re talking about. It was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation. Although you wished it was something more. You’d never tell it to Rafe though. He’d just make fun of you for wanting something that was so out of your reach, something almost impossible.

After stretching a bit on your bed, you sat up and tried to rub the tiredness away from your eyes. Your eyes drifted to the alarm clock beside your bed. 7:32. Why had you woken up so early? You blamed it on the coldness of your bed and the sheets. After all it was just you in it.

You stood up, put on an oversized t-shirt and started picking up your clothes that had been scattered all over your bedroom the night before. You tossed them onto the bathroom floor and made a mental note to put them in the washing machine later.

Feeling your stomach grumble with hunger you walked into the kitchen and put two slices of bread into the toaster. You opened the fridge and took out the butter. Lately you had been obsessed with toast with butter. It was heavenly on mornings like these.

As soon as the toast was done, you spread some butter on them. You didn’t care enough to put them on a plate. Or you were just lazy. One of those reasons. As you were eating your toast, you scrolled on your phone, seeing all the pictures and videos from last night’s party. You had decided not to go and just stay home and watch a movie all by yourself. You actually treasured those moments. Rafe came over in the middle of the night and of course he was pretty hammered. You still slept with him though. How could you deny yourself such pleasure?

When you were finished eating, you sat on the living room couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. You felt pathetic, sad even. You were sorry for yourself. You had let Rafe crawl into your life, into your head, and now you couldn’t get him out. He was always on your mind.

“This has to stop,” you mumbled to yourself, as you took out your phone and texted the guy you had turned down a few days ago. He had asked you out but you declined because it felt wrong to go out with a guy that wasn’t Rafe. But now you realized that the smartest thing right now would be trying to forget about Rafe. He didn’t see you as nothing more than a friend, a hook-up.

He replied almost immediately which was a bit weird because it was 8 in the morning but you didn’t give it much thought. You agreed to go on a date with him in the evening.

As you were getting ready to go on the date, you got a text from Rafe, asking if he could come over tonight. You didn’t reply. It’s for the better, you thought.

The guy, Luke, picked you up at 7 p.m sharp and took you to out to eat. It was pretty romantic you were not going to lie.

“You’ve been living in Kildare your entire life? How have I not seen you before?” you asked before taking a bite of your food.

“It may be because I don’t really go to parties.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“You don’t? Then what do you do here? There’s really nothing to do here except parties and golf, if you ask me.”

“Well, mostly I just hang out with my friends, play golf, go fishing. You know, the usual stuff.”

“I’d get bored with that fast,” you laughed.

“Then what do you do here?” he asked.

“Umm, I go to parties, obviously, I’m not lame,” you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes. “But sometimes I surf.”

“You do? Isn’t that like a pogue thing?”

“So, sport is now a pogue thing? Yeah, I don’t label things like that. The whole pogue vs kook things is just pointless in my opinion.”

“If you say so.” He took a sip of his drink.

After dinner, you walked down to the beach and just took a stroll there. It was a beautiful sunset and you even took some pictures with him to remember that night.

“I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for not turning me down like I did you.” He had just brought you home and walked up to your front door.

“No problem. Who am I to say no to such a pretty girl.” The compliment made you blush.

“Also, thank you for paying tonight. I promise I’ll pay next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“Yes. I mean if you want to.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s settled.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before entering your home and closing the door behind you. You were actually happy with how this whole thing turned out. You hadn’t thought about Rafe even once this whole evening.

When you stopped answering to Rafe’s texts and calls, he became confused. What was going on? Had he done something to upset you?

After a few weeks in the dark, he heard at one party that you were seeing someone. He felt this kind of tightness in his chest. It was a mix of emotions. Almost like anger but not really. He couldn’t put a finger on it why he felt like this. It was not like you were his girlfriend or anything. Although he liked the sound of that. Y/N, his girlfriend.

He left the party and came over to your place. He banged his fist on the door repeatedly. Je might’ve even woken up your neighbours with all the noise he was making.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing here in the middle of the night?” you asked, as you opened the door. You were wearing an old t-shirt and shorts. You looked adorable to him.

“Can we talk?”

“At 2 in the morning? No fucking way.” You started to close the door but he shoved his foot between the door and its frame.

“Y/N, please. I need to speak with you.”

“Then come back at a reasonable hour,” you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“This is a reasonable hour. Just let me in.”

You let out a sight but then opened the door for him. You walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water because your throat was feeling a bit dry. He followed you close behind.

“If you’re here for sex then you might as well just leave right now. I’m not in the mood.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m here just to talk to you?”

“You want an honest answer to that?” you asked, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Not really.”

You took a sip from your glass and then placed it on the kitchen counter. “If you’re really here to talk then talk. I want to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want you going out with that Luke you’ve been seeing.”

“How the fuck is that your business? I can go out with whoever I want. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I know what’s best for you.”

You bitterly laughed. “Oh, you do now? Rafe, you don’t know shit.”

“He’s not a good guy for you.”

“And you know that how? He treats me better than you ever have. And that’s a fact. Keep your nose out of my business and go find some other girl to fuck. This,” you waved your finger between you two, “is over. I don’t want to see you anymore. Like ever again. So you might as well delete my number.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” The frustration within you was too much to handle as tears started to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

“Because I love you, for fucks sake,” he admitted, yelling.

You were staring at him in shock. You were speechless and didn’t know what to say. Was this like some sort of cruel prank he was playing on you? Or was he serious? Could it be? It was hard to believe. Why would he admit it now, after all this time?

“I didn’t realize it at first. I was so caught up in myself and my problems. But when I heard you were seeing someone, I freaked out. I didn’t like the feeling it gave me. I didn’t like the thought of you with someone else other than me. It didn’t seem right.”

He slowly walked closer to your, now sobbing, frame. He placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other under you chin. He lifted it so you’d look him in the eye.

“If there’s a slight chance that you’re feeling like I do, please tell me. If not, I’ll leave right now and you’ll never have to even see me again.”

“I do,” you whispered, not being able to actually talk. Your emotions were overwhelming you as you broke down. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hand up and down on your back in a soothing manner.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m here with you.”

You stood there for what felt like eternity, crying between his arms. When you had calmed down you pulled away a bit so you could look at him.

“You’re such an asshole. You know that, right?”

He nodded. He knew.

“But. I love you too. Always have been. I tried so hard to forget you. That’s why I started going out with Luke. So I could forget you for a couple of hours. And it worked. But as soon as I got home it was like he never existed. I thought about you. Only you.”

“Well, now I’m all yours.”

“That’s good to hear because I’m yours as well.”

***

FEEDBACK IS VERY APPRECIATED!

taglist: @www-imbored-com @delightfullynlove @tomhardybby @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @ilovejjmaybank @allycat449-blog @teenwaywardasgardian @copper-boom @canibeoneofthepogues @ifilwtmfc @bedazzledbanks @jeyramarie @themaddies-obx @pink-meringues @freddymaybank @moniamaybank​ @outerbankspreferences​ @j-j-may-bank @drewstarkeysbitchh

[sunqyu]

~ Treasure realizing they love you and the first time they say it pt 1.

Request 1: “ hmm im all in cute feelings, so FIRST I LOVE YOUS with treasure reaction thingy, would be super sweet 🙊💗🌼🌼 “ - anon

Request 2: “ i love your writing! treasure realizing theyre in love with their s/o🥺 “ - anon

These requests are both so adorable and fitting so I decided to combine them. Hope you enjoooy. Also, buckle up ‘cause ITS A LONG ONE AGAIN. Got carried away as usual so it’ll be in two parts. K BYE <3 - Nova

Hyunsuk

realizing it

it doesn’t take much to make Hyunsuk like you

but to actually fall in love with you

that’s a different story

he’s alone at the studio, trying to get his verse right

every time he fixes something he didn’t like, he notices something else

he’s sat at his desk, elbows next to the keyboard

head hanging down with his fingers tangled in his hair

a sharp inhale

a shaky exhale

then his phone lights up, a message from you, asking if he’s home yet and how his day went

2.30am, he reads

he starts typing, frantically, on and on as the chaos in his head makes it’s way onto his phonescreen

only for him to stop and delete it all because he knows what he really wants to send you

but it’s too late and he doesn’t want to be a burden, you need your sleep too

when he looks up and sees his own reflection in the, now dimly lit, screen of his computer

another sharp inhale

‘Not so great to be honest, can I come to your place?’ sent.

on the way to your house he’s still thinking about turning back

but all those thoughts are long gone the moment you open the door

your eyes beaming at him, messy bun wiggling side to side and you’re wrapped up in a blanket

his heart melts as he feels the tightness in his temples and neck from the stress subside

‘Hi- I missed you.’

you probably didn’t notice but he almost said something else

he snickers to himself, that would’ve been a bit early

saying it

definitely the type to say it without realizing what he’s saying

you two are getting groceries

which, even though it’s not a special thing, is always so much fun

this time you ended up playing hide and seek

it wasn’t really discussed, you just lost Hyunsuk at one point and decided to turn it into a game instead of calling him

which means it’s your turn now

it had been over 20 minutes and he was getting worried

very impressed with your skills

but worried

in the end he decided to call you

to his surprise he hears your ringtone behind him

he turns around

the ringtone is still behind him

he turns around

what the-

he turns around but really fast this time

his eyes meet yours a second before you start dying from laughter

‘How long where you doing that for-?’ he laughed in self-pity and disbelieve

when he finds out you never left he sighs

‘Ugh- I love you.’ he mutters inbetween chuckling

for a second he freezes, a thousand things running through his mind

but y’know what? fuck it.

‘Yea- it’s true. I love you.’

Jihoon

realizing it

also seems like someone who does not fall in love quickly

mostly because he’s not looking for it, he doesn’t feel the need to be in love to be happy

but once he does

oh boy

so when you came in his life he wasn’t thinking about a potential relationship

or wondering if you two would be compatible

he simply enjoyed your presence and you two got closer as friends

because of this the moment he realizes he has feelings for you will be overwhelming for him

wasn’t ready

you weren’t even doing anything different than usual

just eating in the yg cafetaria, both rambling about things

subjects that made people walking by look up because they didn’t get the full story

out of nowhere he fell hard

the mechanism that’s supposed to be his brain malfunctioning

croissant in mid-air

it all just made sense

the reason why he could never be sad around you

the reason that made your eyes twinkle more than anyone elses

the reason you saying his name sounds different than when anyone else says it

the reason he’s now sitting with his mouth wide open staring at you without really looking at you

‘Y-yea, I was listening. Ofcourse I was.’

saying it

probably says it on a special occasion

not planned or anything

it just seemed fitting in that moment

he realized before you two were even dating so it’s not like there’s any doubt left

still, expressing it feels like a very big step

it was quite a warm autumn evening

you were sitting on the floor at the salon table

filled with food from different places

‘I’m so proud of us.’ he beamed

you had just finished a very important essay which is going to be a great advantage when looking for an internship

he had just ended filming their third music video

‘I wish I could show you, you’re gonna love it.’ he mumbled before grabbing another bite

it looked like a feast but takeout-style

you continue eating, enjoying each others company

all the windows were open because of the nice weather

a soft breeze would ruffle the curtains

the subtle sound mixing well with the music

Jihoon had looked for just the right playlist for almost half an hour

and it couldn’t have been more perfect

the warm light of the candles was accompanied by a desklight

you got it out of your room because the ceiling light wasn’t cozy but the candles weren’t enough to see each other’s face (or the food)

the topic slowly drifts to more nostalgic memories

dates to the beach, your weekend in Japan, meeting his friends

‘You know what’s funny? out of all of those memories the one that is most special to me was a really simple one.’ something in his expression changed and you sat calmly, waiting for him to continue

‘It was a few days before I asked you out on our first date. We were at yg, eating something.’ he grabbed another bite of food, chuckling at your impatient response

‘I don’t know what it was but out of nowhere I realized I was in love with you.’ the words came out while he looked at his plate, looking up only a second before he continued

‘I still do. I love you-, even more each day.’

Yoshi

realizing it

there’s not really a specific moment where it hit him

his love for you grew gradually

which is exactly how he liked it

from the moment he met you he was never nervous around you

he never felt like he wasn’t good enough or like he had to try harder

everything made sense from day one

there would be moments where is heart could burst from it

like the time you tried to fix his broken jeans with a youtube tutorial

or when you first fell asleep on his chest

the worst was when he couldn’t see you for a few days

as if the love in him grew and grew but he couldn’t give it to you

he just felt like he was going to explode sometimes

the other boys would notice very easily

‘I know it’s only a few days, you guys are right.’

his mind didn’t listen to his own words

‘I’m fine- I promise.’

but if it’s a few more hours he might not be

he would go to bed quite early these days

after he noticed that trying to distract himself wasn’t working

he’d scroll through photo’s you took together

and photo’s he took of you

he’d sent you another text, hoping your phone was off so he wouldn’t wake you up

a strange mix of happiness and sadness

luckily once he realizes his sadness is temporary and it only shows how special you are to him he’ll be able to focus on the happiness

thinking about all the memories you’ve made and will make in the future as he slowly drifts to sleep

saying it

finally

finally he was going to see you again

it was only like three days but boy was he DEPRIVED

he was the first done packing

the first in the car

the first to run into the dorm and put his bag away

aaaand the first to run out the door again

you two had been texting all day about movies to watch and all the stories he wanted to tell

his knee bumped up and down in the bus

he couldn’t remember the last time he was this hyped

only three more stops

he gazed out the window chuckling at himself

who would’ve thought someone could make him feel like this?

his hand clutched on to the souvenir he got you

two more stops

an old couple got in

yoshi always had a weakness for happy old couple

but now especially

he smiled politely at them

admiring how in love they looked

that would be you in the future, he thought to himself

one more stop

his smile was still on his face

recognizing restaurants you two went to

clothing stores where you complimented his style

and then

the bus stop

it’s the one where you two met

he still can’t believe he managed to strike up a conversation with you that day

but it must’ve been meant to be

he looked around frantically as soon as his foot hit the sidewalk

the sound of your shoes on the floor came closer

he turned to face the sound and before he could even see your face he was holding you in his arms again

tightly as if to tell the world you were his

a deep sigh left his mouth before he mumbled into your hair

‘I love you- I missed you so much. I’m so happy to see you.’

Junkyu

realizing it

‘stop being weird-’ ‘says who?’

you and Junkyu were laying on his bed

both with your limbs spread out, staring at the ceiling

you weren’t sure how long you’d been there

he hummed along to the song you just put on

before being interrupted by the sound of his own stomach

‘Oh wow- sounds like it’s time for lunch.’ 

you nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone

he started thinking about what to get, watching you tap away on your phone

your hair was laying in a circle around your head

a shadow from the ceilinglight behind your phone over your eyes

he noticed how you pupils dilated as they adjusted to the light everytime your moved your phone a bit

your eyes are cool af, woah

he turned to his side, still looking at your features while you scrolled on your phone

the song changed and this time it was you humming along

your voice is so nice, he thought to himself

his dreamy moment was interrupted by you looking at him

oh right- food

‘Uh- I want uh-..’

to his surprise you tell him you already ordered

‘What- what about me?’

you listed the things you ordered for him, saying how you definitely knew what he wanted by now

he was shocked

if you aren’t the SWEETEST MOST THOUGHTFUL HUMAN BEING

then he wouldn’t know who is

his dreamy moment continued, even though you were staring right back this time, confused

he never felt like this before

like he wants to fast-forward and sit in a rocking chair with you, grumbling about youth

wait

fuck

this is love isn’t it?

saying it

he promised

he promised he wasn’t going to fall asleep during the movie

but look at him now

soft deep breathing, lips slightly parted as he was laying against you

even though you didn’t want to wake him up you had already seen this movie with friends and the remote was all the way on the table

you reached forward in slow motion

slowly

sloooooowly

Junkyu moved, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder before mumbling under his breath and laying still again

that was close

the journey continues

slooooooooooowly

you were only 10cm away from reaching the remote

‘N-no hh.. stay h- ple ase.’

a dilemma

lean forward a bit more or sit back and just let the man sleep?

bit more

sloooooooooooooooowly

your fingertips grazed the remote and it wobble side to side

‘Babe?-’ that definitely sounded more awake then earlier

but when you look at him you see he’s definitely not fully awake yet

‘Come back to beeed-’ he whined

bed? boy, we’re on the couch

you didn’t mention it and instead quickly grabbed the remote before you sat back down a little faster

‘Th-nk yo-’ he held you tighter

‘Love you-’

wait what?

Mashiho

realizing it

seems like a hopeless romantic to me

so might realize quite fast

this man has been fantasizing and imagining his future love life for so long

not to the point where he’s yanking flowers apart to find out if you love him or not

but he sees the beauty in so many things

enjoys the warmth of the sun on his skin

likes to watch people going about their day and thinking what their life is like

leaves sweet notes on receipts for hardworking employees to find when they come clean his table

little things but a lot of things

he has an eye for beauty and knows exactly how to use it for his own happiness

so he quickly noticed how happy you made him

it was again, the little things

but so so many

how your pinky finger was always a little higher than the rest when your hands were relaxed

how the cute baby hairs on the back of your neck would always leave your ponytail within minutes of putting your hair up

how your foot would bounce up and down when you sat with your legs crossed, even if there was no music

how every time you called him cute he had to keep himself from calling you cute because he knew you’d hide your face in your hands right after

the way you sat against the mirror when you came to watch him practice

sleeves of his sweater to long for your arms as you clapped after each song

loving you wasn’t something that happens at one point

it’s built within him since the moment you met

it just grows and grows as you take care of it with your cuteness and love

saying it

so much snow

everywhere

the snowflakes were most visible under the light of the streetlanterns

appearing and disappearing as they went back into the dark nightsky

the crisp sound from under your shoes was relaxing

you and Mashiho had a snowballfight after finishing about 20 snowangels each

it had gotten dark before you knew it so now you were walking home

his arm around your shoulder, rubbing softly to keep you warm

you felt the cold water through your gloves but sharing bodyheat was all you needed

both of you had soft smiles on your faces, walking in content silence

and you were also just EXHAUSTED so the quiet evening was a nice change

in some of the houses you walked by you could already see christmaslights and trees

he noticed you looking

‘Lets get our own decorations soon.’ 

you nodded happily, leaning against him a little more

this was going to be your first christmas together

you never expected to celebrate it with someone this year

the idea of setting up a tree together and the coziness it would bring made him feel warm inside

you discussed fun things you could do for christmas

ways to surprise the boys or what you wanted to eat

he listened to you talk about memories and future plans

when he noticed how clearly he was already involved in those future plans he couldn’t help himself

‘Hey-’ he gave your shoulder a squeeze to make you look at him

‘I love you, so so much-‘

Jaehyuk

realising it

it was the first time you were going to meet the rest of Jaehyuk’s group

a little nervous but mostly excited you walked to the front door

he told you to text him when you got there so he could see you before the rest did

a few second after you saw he read your message the door opens

you get a kiss on the lips, a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead all after each other

he wanted to show you love but also wanted to mentally prepare you for what was about to him

don’t get him wrong, he loves the other members with all his heart but he could imagine them being a little.... overwhelming.

before he could even ask you if you were nervous the yells from the living room began

curious heads peeking out from behind his back, 11 hands reaching out to you as they all wanted to introduce themselves first

you could make out some teasing to Jae followed by someone’s voice trying to keep the peace

he looked at you with slight worry in his face, only to be greeted by a cheerful smile

before he knew it you were bashing out jokes left and right

even standing up for him a few times in the funniest ways

he couldn’t be happier

so many people he loved in one room

one in particular though

he took a moment to sit back against the couch and look around in awe

so happy

after a few hours and some good food it was time for you to go home

he watched you end your conversation with Asahi

who, to his surprise, seemed like he didn’t want the conversation to end

you waved goodbye to everyone and got loads of no’s and why’s in return

‘It’s late guys, she still has to go home.’

saying it

you still heard the whining when you and Jae reached the front door

you talked a few more minutes about how much you enjoyed yourself and the funny and awkward moments you two noticed

‘Apparently you don’t only make me happy but my friends too.’

you beamed at the compliment

even though you enjoyed the night as well, the validation that they did too meant a lot to you

‘So I’ve been approved?’ ‘Clearly.’

he insisted on walking you home 

you discussed the evening even more

he explained more about their personalities and memories he has with them which now made so much sense to you

your fingers were intertwined, arms swinging back and forth playfully

for some reason he felt a lump in his throat

but he couldn’t quite figure out why

it even distracted him from your conversation a few times

which is very unlike him so you noticed quickly

when you stopped walking to ask him what was wrong

looking him in the eye to show you you were not taking nothing for an answer

the determined look in your eyes made him realize what it was

what he had been holding back

but he didn’t say it

not yet

after a few minutes you reached your frontdoor

‘Thank you for the great evening, I’m sure they’ll want you back as soon as possible.’

he leaned in for a goodnight’s kiss, holding you close a little tighter than usual

for a second he pulled back

‘I love you-’

before connecting your lips again

[miyaniacs]

Exchange - Miya Atsumu & Osamu  SMAU

ROUTE: OSAMU

not a random girl

smau masterlist  / masterlist / previous

a/n: welcome to the emotional rollercoaster and the pep talk I always give myself ✌🏼

Starring at your messages you reread your last conversation with him, tears streaming down your face.

 How could you be so blind? So stupid? How could you actually believe he’d choose you over her?

The whole week there was neither a call or message from him. He wasn’t at one of his classes too.

Your friends asked if you knew where he was, but as petty as you are - you just shrugged. You didn’t dare to tell them what you saw, you didn’t want it to be true. Because... there is no way he‘d switch you for some random girl. Osamu isn’t that type of man, he wasn’t a player. 

So you kept up a smile on your face - it’s Osamu, you kept on reminding yourself, he would never just forget you.

The smile was up for about three days, until Atsumu grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the campus after your classes.

“Atsumu? - What are you doing?” You ask him confused. The two of you haven’t talked that much the past days, it still hurt him, knowing that you’ll never be his. But now? After he saw her again - he knew the tables have turned and now he has to put his emotions aside and focus on being your friend.

Atsumu didn’t answer you, instead he kept on dragging you away, away from other people until he stopped at a bench, away from all the others.

He sits down and pats the spot next to him, signaling you to sit down.

He stayed silent. Was he really going to be the one again to break your heart?

“So... you see... uhm-“ he stutters. How should he tell you?

“Yes?” You ask him, actually confused of what is up with him.

“There’s this girl..”

Oh.

“I saw them.” You tell him, the memories from that day coming back all at once.

“Oh. Uhm... “ he again, doesn’t know what to say.

“Who is she? Please Atsumu be honest now.” You say and look directly at him.

“Her name is Emma. We know her since we’ve been children. The three of us have been inseparable. We did everything together, shared all of our secrets, had sleepovers almost every day you name it. But her and Osamu... they always had a special connection. So at some point - they realized that it was love and they got into a relationship with their ... what did she call him ... oh - their other half. For real we all thought they’d marry right after Highschool...” he mumbles the last part and stares at the ground. You don’t say anything, your throat being so tight it already hurts to breath.

“But then... out of nowhere she and her family moved away. Osamu was heartbroken - I’ve never seen him that sad before. Even though they tried to make it work... but eventually they realized there was no way they can still be in that relationship and be happy. They needed each other yes. But they really needed each other ... like ... in a physical way, I swear there was no second they haven’t had their hands on each other. It was disgusting honestly. And I was so jealous, jealous of him finding the one.”, he sighs, “ They we’re sure it was meant to be. To be honest we all knew it was. So they made a promise. And that promise helped Osamu through that time. They promised to wait until they meet again.“

“And what happens then?” You choke out.

Atsumu looks at you, hesitating to answer you.

“Atsumu. Please.” You whisper.

“Originally they planned to get back together and continue what they had...” he mumbles.

The hope you had, is now completely gone.

You saw the way he looked at her.

Non of his feelings flew away over time.

Not in the slightest.

Getting up you started walking, Atsumu hurried behind you, trying to catch up. “No.” You whisper as he catches up with you.

“But Y/n.” He begs, yet you shake your head. You just wanted to be alone now.

That night you cried yourself to sleep again, ignoring all the knocks on your door and calls and messages from your favorite chaotic trio you, also known as your roommates.

Then after two weeks of having no contact to Osamu, he messaged you.

Only nine words.

Nine words were needed to fully destroy your heart.

She wasn't a random girl and you’re now fully aware of it. 

“I am so sorry, but I still love her.”

So why are so stupid? You could have imagine something like that happening. It was only a matter of time until he realized just how fucked up you really been and how much better he can do. You really hoped that with his help, you can get over everything that happened and to be able to trust again. yet you’ve made the same mistake as always. You linked your own happiness and well-being to a guy.

Leaving your phone in your room, you walk downstairs, your blanket. Still wrapped around you. Your vision is blurry - it’s a wonder how you’ve managed to walk down the stairs without slipping.

The second Bokuto hears you walking down the stairs he jumps up and hurries over to you. Kuroo is already in the kitchen preparing a tea and Kenma is lining up all the snacks they’ve brought just for this moment.

As soon as you reach the end of the stairs, two strong arms pick you up bridal style and carry you over to the sofa. With you still in his arms, Bokuto sits down and nuzzles his face in you hair. Kenma sits down and places his hand on your knee: “Y/N... you’re ready now?” He asks softly and looks at you with his big eyes.

“The tea IS ready” Kuroo says and holds a big cup in front of your face.

“I don’t want any...” you mumble.

“Yes you do! This is a special tea I remember my mum making me whenever I felt sad.” He huffs and with a sigh, you take the cup out of his hands. Carefully you take a small sip of the still hot tea. You can’t make out the ingredients, yet you’re immediately filled with a warm feeling that feel like home.

“Thank you Kuroo...” you mumble and a small smile form on your lips. Kuroo simply pats your head and sits down on a cushion in front of the three of you.

They all look at you with expecting eyes.

You open your mouth and close it again. Taking a sip of the tea you try to speak up again, but you just can’t find the right words. Everything you think of feels wrong. It feels so wrong to sit here again and cry over the almost same guy again.

It was stupid of you to assume that after you’ve chosen him, he’d also choose you. And now you’re crying again? Because in your head it was save to say that he’d only choose you too. So you’re really sitting here crying over something you kind of just made up in your mind? No. Your friends always give you support and you keep on coming back crying over a man. Hell when have you become that kind of girl? The twins really fucked you up. You were independent. You haven’t linked your happiness to having a boyfriend. Open your eyes Y/n. You’re surrounded by three amazing friends, who immediately drop everything they’re doing when you need them. Who are down to fight their own friends, just because they made you cry. You managed to go to this college and full fill your dream.

Isn’t this enough?

Isn’t this enough to be happy?

You open your arms and pull Kenna and Bokuto in a hug, while Kuroo smiles and gets up, wrapping his arms around you three.

“I love you all so soo much. I’m sorry for not really being a good friend, while you been the best friends someone could wish for.” Small tears roll down your cheeks and you feel Kuroo’s soft lips kissing your forehead.

“That’s what friends are for.” Bokuto says.

“I promise you’ll be the only guys I focus on from now on.” You laugh.

“ I’m glade Y/n... but can you all let go of me now?” Kenna asks and desperately tries to wiggle out of yours and Kuroo’s grip.

“Kenna! Stop ruining the moment!!!” Kuroo exclaims and only tightens his grip.

You laugh happily and feel your heart lightening.

Yes. This is enough to be happy.

-Meanwhile at Osamu’s shop-

“Emma?” Osamu asks annoyed.

“Yes Osaaa~” Emma looks at him innocently.

“Why do you have my phone?”

“Oh sorry, my internet wasn’t working working and I needed to look something up.” She says and quickly deletes the last messaged sent to Y/n.

“Ahh... you know I have WiFi here?” He says and rolls his eyes.

taglist (open):  @kathya420 ,  @cuddlesslut , @tchalameme , @haikyuuopalite , @socks-for-a-slytherin , @monni-dionne​ , @kuroos-moon , @captainofmanyfandoms @a-tol-baby , @ensworks  @chaelysian @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy, @shhhlikeme, @bringmelily , @ynjimenez, @thecaptainship @90s-belladonna @laceymorganwrites @kristelmiyathot  @lovedanii @nekoma-hoe , @suna-allie, @imuziawi, @oikawatooruisking, @chisaikuki  , @akakuzumo @writingfreakk @its-me-nico @apollochjld , @isthistherealifeoristhisafantasy, @gaychemicalwater  @achly @maii-flowers ,  @nicolemelton @stfucanunot @chromaticstudio  @stardustanni   @alienvarmint @saucysamu @anime-simp @thirsthourdemon  @shoyosun @peachymelbs @katsukisbabymomma @riniii @wheelzzzies

[marvelyningreen]

Aftershocks - Night 3

Night 1 | Night 2 | Night 3 | (deleted scene)

[Summary: Peter Maximoff is an unflappable sorta guy. He’d never let anything get to him before, and this recent misadventure will be no different. ...Right?

Warnings: mild language, references to injury and mind control, general trauma-related angst

Notes: Peter Maximoff x reader, of the established relationship variety. A ‘what if Fietro really was Peter?’ scenario. Same continuity/reader character from Linger and Late-bloomer.

Tag list: @cowboyenorgy ]

On the third night after your return from Westview, you finally go back to the groundskeeper’s cottage. You figure that it’s time to try getting back to normal, and Peter agrees. If you need anything, neither of you will be far from the other X-Men, or from each other, right? And to be honest, you’re looking forward to sleeping in your own bed again.

That, and Peter’s been running hot and cold on you again today.

In the morning, he’d been all sweet and attentive still. You’d felt a little guilty about sleeping in his bed while he’d slept on the couch, but he brushed off your attempts to apologize. He was fine, he’d insisted, and you were the one who was injured.

He’d asked you to stay put and then disappeared, returning a few minutes later to bring you breakfast in bed. And, apparently in the spirit of going full Jane Austen on you, he’d asked Hank to make a house-call.

After re-examining your injured knee, Hank determined that you hadn’t made it any worse, but you hadn’t done it any favors, either. Exasperated, he asked if you’d please just use the crutches for a few days, and between his insistence and Peter’s puppy-dog eyes, you’d agreed to.

Peter had to dash off again after breakfast to help the professor with the twins. Only, this time, you didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

You ended up wandering aimlessly around the mansion for a while, wondering what on earth to do with yourself. There’s not much groundskeeping to do in the winter to begin with, so you’d started doubling as a substitute teacher when other faculty members were away on missions.

Unfortunately for you, all the full-time teachers were present. You wouldn’t have anything to do even if Professor Xavier hadn’t given you mandatory time off. As you were pondering this, you turned the corner to see Wanda standing alone in the hall, gazing out the window.

She didn’t seem notice you. For a moment, you considered turning and walking the other way. Maybe she didn’t want to be bothered right now. Maybe she wanted to be alone. But then again…

“Hi,” you said, before you could chicken out.

Wanda stared at you for a second before seeming to remember.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “You’re Peter’s…?”

“Right.” And you reintroduced yourself, just to be on the safe side. You smiled, and Wanda smiled thinly back, and there were a few seconds of silence. Oh boy. Awkwardness settled in. “So… how are you holding up?”

You asked it as though you were talking to a friend, and it only seemed to highlight the fact that Wanda hardly knew who you were. You’d actually spoken to Vision more than you had to her when you were in Westview, but… Well, that was neither here nor there.

“Alright, I think,” Wanda said. “Everyone here has been very kind.”

You nodded. “They’re a welcoming bunch.”

“But out there…” Wanda turned her gaze back to the window. “They tell me people hate your kind, fear you.”

“Some do,” you admitted. “But many don’t. It’s been getting better for mutants for quite a while now, and it’s going to keep getting better.”

“And you believe that?”

There was something harsh and cold in Wanda’s tone. You’re reminded of how much she’d lost, and how alone she’d been – how alone she still was.

“I do,” you said quietly.

Silence again. It was hard for you to get a read on Wanda. If she was giving some sort of clear signal that she wanted you to leave her alone – but she wasn’t. Before things could get awkward again, you blurted out:

“How do you feel about krofne?”

Wanda laughed, as though the question caught her off-guard, and tilted her head. “It’s been a long time since I had krofne. I like them, though.”

That was a relief. You don’t know a whole lot of recipes from the Balkans, so you would’ve been out of ideas if that didn’t exist in Wanda’s reality.

“I’ll have to make some later this week. You see that little groundskeeper’s cottage over there?” You pointed it out to her. “That’s where I live. It’d be great if you and your kids could stop by sometime.”

For a second, Wanda’s smile faltered, and you wondered if you’d overstepped yourself.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you added hurriedly, “Or if you’d rather wait a while until you’re settled in. It’s just… I mean, I know the circumstances are completely different, but I was pretty alone when I first came here, too. I’d like to try and be your friend. Or if that’s too much, I could settle for being a tolerable acquaintance or something.”

“No, it’s alright. You just… reminded me of someone for a moment,” Wanda’s smile was still a little sad, but it seemed to come easier that time. “I’d love to bring the boys over to visit. Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

Some furtive whispering caught your attention, and you and Wanda both looked towards the source of the sound.

Ororo with a group of younger students following her like ducklings was a pretty familiar sight. She easily stepped in to the role of cool big sister for the students. She smiled at you, nudging the three girls in your direction.

“Go ahead and ask,” she said.

One of the little girls stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” she said, “The older kids said you would help us with our homework.”

She glanced back at Ororo, who gave her an approving nod.

You grinned apologetically at Wanda. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around.”

She’d smoothed the sadness out of her expression as she bid you farewell and went back to gazing out the window.

“Alright,” you said, turning your attention to the girls, “Let’s find someplace to sit down, okay? Then you can tell me what you’re working on.”

Kurt ends up walking you back to the cottage late in the afternoon. The sun sets so early in the winter, and you want to get home before it’s completely dark out. That, and you’ve given up on seeing Peter again today.

Once he’s certain that you’ll be alright on your own, Kurt takes his leave. You notice that, instead of heading straight back to the mansion, he takes the garden path. You guess that he’s heading for the little Mary garden to say a prayer or two for Vision. Kurt’s a kind soul. Even only knowing Wanda for two days, he already sees her as family.

You go about the cottage, turning on lights and looking into every room. You’re not sure why. It’s not like anything would’ve changed in the few days you’d been gone. Maybe it’s just reassuring to see it all again: the bright little kitchen, the living room with its tiny hearth and comfy loveseat (not enough room for a full sofa), your own room with all the shelves piled high with books…

And the plants on your windowsills aren’t dried out, like you’d expected. You wonder who’d been kind enough to water them for you, and resolve to ask around tomorrow.

Without giving your mind a chance to wander, you give yourself something to do. Strawberry-rhubarb pie. That’s what Peter had mentioned.

It just so happens that you do have a few jars of pie-filling left from that summer’s canning. All you’ll have to do is make up a crust and bake it. Simple enough. You put on some music and get to work.

But it’s not enough to keep your thoughts in check. When cutting a vent into the top crust, you shape it like the outline of a hummingbird. Maybe it’ll make Peter smile. You hope it will, at least.

He seems alright more often than not, but you still don’t know what’s wrong or how to help him, and the professor’s counting on you to do just that. And so, apparently, is Mr. Lehnsherr.

You’re surprised he’d stayed for the party last night. Then again, he usually ends up staying at the mansion a few days longer than he’d planned to. You can’t say for certain, but you figure Peter’s got something to do with it.

And it was Peter that Mr. Lehnsherr wanted to talk about when he approached you at the party.

He thanked you for going after him when he was taken, saying that it was a brave thing to do. You’re certain that Mr. Lehnsherr would’ve done the same, if he’d been there at the time, and you said as much. He laughed, saying that was beside the point. His gaze had drifted back to Peter.

“That boy needs someone to look after him sometimes. I suppose I’m glad that he’s found someone who will. And as for you…” His words trailed off, like he’d changed his mind on what he wanted to say. He smiled faintly and patted your shoulder. “Take care, alright?”

And with that, he’d drifted back to his conversation with Wanda, leaving you a little mystified.

Look after Peter. That’s pretty much exactly what the professor had said to you, too. But how? By making him pie? Let’s be honest – if a problem can’t be fixed with baked goods, then you’re at a loss.

You try to reassure yourself with the idea that the professor had left the situation up to you, personally. If it was anything truly dire, you knew that he’d step in to take care of it.

But then again, the professor is the sort that focuses on the bigger picture. Sometimes he loses sight of the immediate circumstances. Which is why it’d been delegated to you, which brings you right back where you started.

While you’ve been thinking yourself in circles, the pie has finished baking. You take it out of the oven to cool. The hummingbird shape has survived the baking process, so that’s good. The pie failed as a distraction, though.

All you’ve been able to think about is Peter. You love him, and something’s wrong, and you don’t know what it is, so you don’t know how to help. It’s going to drive you crazy at this rate.

Even the music you’re listening to is one of the mixtapes Peter made for you. You start getting bummed out halfway through “Rainbow in the Dark,” and you only make it through the first chorus of “Kiss Me Deadly” before turning it off entirely.

You retreat to the living room, sitting down and gazing through the window, across the grounds to the lights of the mansion. It’d started snowing that evening. You’d always liked snow. It makes everything seem cozy. It makes the silence of the night feel soft and homey, rather than empty.

Oh, what the hell. You give up on trying not to think about Peter.

When you first came to work at the school, you mostly kept to yourself. That was back when you thought that lackluster telekinesis was the extent of your abilities, before you learned you were a reality warper. You’d felt shy and inadequate in the presence of all these incredibly powerful mutants.

You’d later learned that almost everyone at the school thought you weren’t a mutant at all. They assumed that Professor Xavier had hired a regular human as some sort of PR stunt. And since you barely spoke to anyone, they weren’t disabused of the notion for a long time.

And then Peter showed up.

It wasn’t like the other faculty stopping by to introduce themselves – kind and friendly, but mostly there out of obligation. Peter showed up unannounced, and he was…

Well, he was a flirt. And you were certain he was only there for the pie. Still, you would’ve found it difficult not to be charmed by him.

He was cheerful and blunt, somehow both self-assured and self-deprecating. His sense of humor was as quick as his tongue. There was no such thing as an awkward silence when talking to Peter Maximoff. Not to mention the fact that he was exceptionally cute.

He asked if you’d be okay with him coming by again, and of course you said yes. He was at the cottage often after that – trying out your cooking and offering suggestions of music you should check out. You quickly realized that you weren’t nervous about his visits. You actually looked forward to them.

That was when the little groundskeeper’s cottage at Xavier’s school finally started to feel like home. And even if correlation doesn’t equal causation, you always felt that Peter was the reason for it.

You oughta do something nice for him. More than just the pie, that is. He could devour that thing in seconds if he wanted to. You should take him out on a date. Peter always loves a concert. You’ll have to ask around, see what local bands are playing in the coming week.

But that isn’t exactly something you can do at the moment. It’s the middle of the night. Right now, you really oughta get some sleep. After stowing the pie in the refrigerator and making a half-hearted attempt to clean up the kitchen, you turn off the lights and head off to bed.

You’d forgotten how nice it feels to sleep in your own bed after being away from it for days. You close your eyes, listening to the breeze winding around the cottage. This is alright. You’re alright. The mansion isn’t far. You’re not alone.

You’re… not alone.

Was that the door? That sound wasn’t the wind.

You’d long since given Peter permission to show up in the cottage unannounced. You’d even given him his own key.

So really, you shouldn’t be surprised, but you still jump when you roll over and see Peter standing in the doorway. You nearly knock the lamp off the table as you fumble to turn it on.

There’s something off about Peter, beyond the fact that he’s suddenly appeared in your room in the middle of the night – and, admittedly, that’s a first.

His smile is as hesitant as it’s been since he got back from Westview, but no more so. There’s unmelted snow on his shoulders, and –

Wait. Snow? Why would there be snow on his jacket? He’s too fast for that, unless…

You scramble out of bed, hurrying to him. “Peter? What’s going on? How long were you outside?”

“Oh, I’m… I’m not really sure, actually,” he says. “I figured you were sleeping, and I wasn’t sure if I should wake you up, so…”

As he speaks, you reach out to touch his face, his hands. They’re like ice.

“My God, you’re half frozen,” you say.

Ignoring his half-hearted assertions that he’s fine, really, you pull Peter into the living room. Telekinetically, you maneuver a couple logs onto the still-glowing embers in the fireplace, and while that’s happening, you tend to Peter.

He lets you take his jacket, and you sit him down on the loveseat, bundling him up in your warmest, fluffiest fleece blanket. Maybe you’re overdoing it just a little. But Peter’s almost never cold, and he certainly never stands still long enough to get covered in snow. You don’t want him getting sick on top of everything he’s already been through.

Satisfied that the fire’s been sufficiently stoked, you sit down next to Peter, taking his hands in yours to rub some warmth into them.

That sort of dazed expression has left his face, and now he just looks amused. Maybe he’s feeling better now that he had a chance to warm up. Or maybe seeing you go from zero to caretaker-mode in two seconds is funny to him. And if that’s it… well, fair enough.

Peter gives your hands a squeeze. “Listen, if you’re gonna make me into a burrito, the least you could do is join me in here. Shared body heat, and all that. I’ll warm up faster.”

He grins and bobs his eyebrows at you, lifting one edge of the blanket invitingly.

“Well, when you’re right, you’re right,” you say wryly.

You skootch under the blanket, leaning up to kiss Peter’s cheek before snuggling up next to him. He’s still radiating cold. You take his hands again.

“Care to explain yourself?” you say.

“I mean…” He shrugs. “I wanted to check on you. Your leg’s still hurt, y’know? And you’re all alone out here, and…”

Peter trails off. That surface-level explanation isn’t fooling you anymore, and he knows it. He sighs, breaking eye contact.

“I didn’t wanna be alone,” he says, softly. “Westview, it… it messed me up, and I’m not over it yet. I feel like I should be okay by now, but I’m not. I’m sorry, but I just-”

“Peter, don’t apologize,” you say. “It’s okay. Nobody expects you to completely bounce back from something like that in two days.”

“I expect me to.”

There’s that wry, self-deprecating grin again. It claws at your heart just a little. Peter genuinely is a pretty unflappable guy, all things considered. But sometimes you get the feeling that it’s because he feels like he has to be. Not that he’s putting it on, exactly, more that he’s hiding behind it.

“People here have gone through so much worse,” Peter shakes his head. “My dad, Jean, Wanda…”

“That doesn’t negate what happened to you,” you say, “And I care about what you went through. I care about you.”

Peter purses his lips and blinks rapidly as he nods, and says nothing.

Over the past few years, you’ve gotten close to Peter – closer than you’ve ever been with anyone else. You realize just now that you don’t think you’ve ever seen him cry.

“Listen, you don’t have to,” you say, “But do you want to talk about it?”

Peter takes a deep breath, like he’s steadying himself. But instead of saying anything, he leans over to bury his face in your shoulder. You immediately wrap your arms tight around him.

“I remember all of it,” he says at length, his voice quiet and shaky. “I just… It was horrible. I was scared. I was so scared.”

This doesn’t surprise you, but it stuns you. Peter gives the impression of being an open book, but he isn’t – not really. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so vulnerable. You keep silent and gently rub his back, giving him space to speak when he’s ready.

“The whole time, I was still in there, watching everything she made me do, hearing everything she made me say. I tr-” Peter breaks off, and swallows hard before going on. “I tried to get her out of my head, but I couldn’t.”

Now that he’s started speaking, Peter can’t seem to stop. Still clinging to you, still hiding his face against your shoulder, the words keep pouring out of him.

“God, you… you don’t know what it was like, having somebody take over and use you like a puppet. I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t run. I was trapped. I-I was completely helpless. She made me lie to Wanda, pretend to be her dead brother, say these awful things. She could’ve made me hurt the kids, or Monica, or you – and I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

“Peter…” you say, not quite knowing what you can say in this moment.

But Peter shakes his head, leaning more heavily against you.

“You don’t understand. You don’t understand – she was going to. When you came back for me at the end, when you tried to stop me, I… Now every time I look at you, I keep thinking about how close I was to hurting you. If Monica hadn’t broken that necklace, I would’ve-”

He stops abruptly, and his body is suddenly wracked with silent sobs. You hold him all the more tightly as his hands grip onto your shirt like he’s holding on for dear life.

“I’ve got you. I’m here,” you say. “I’m here.”

So this is what he’d been hiding – what he’d been pretending to have forgotten.

For a second, a spark of rage flares up in your chest, and you think that Wanda let the witch off too easy for what she’d done. But the feeling quickly smothers itself. Revenge won’t undo what’s already been done, and it certainly won’t help Peter now.

You can’t fix what’s hurting him like you could a cut or a bruise. All you can do is stay and love the hell out of him while he heals.

Slowly, his shuddering breaths grow steadier. You hold him until him he moves to sit back. He lets his hands fall in your lap. He doesn’t look up.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbles.

You shake your head, taking his hands.

“You’re allowed to cut yourself some slack, you know,” you say. “I know - that’s absolutely not your M.O. And your way can help; if you act like everything’s okay, sometimes you feel more like everything’s okay. But it can also help to be blunt about things. What you went through was traumatic, Peter. You’re allowed to say that. You’re allowed to feel it.”

He says nothing. His gaze is still fixed downwards.

“Peter, look at me,” you say gently. “Please?”

He lifts his head, and the sight of his tear-streaked face almost breaks your heart. You pull your sleeve down over your hand and use it to blot away the tears. Peter’s mouth trembles for a moment and his eyes close, but he doesn’t break down again. He just leans into your touch.

“I’ll be right back,” you say softly, kissing him on the cheek.

You hurry into the kitchen and return with a glass of water and a cool washcloth. Sitting back down, you first hand Peter the glass.

“Here,” you say, “You’ll feel better if you drink some water, trust me.”

He follows your advice, and after he’s taken a few sips and sets the glass aside, you hand him the washcloth. He scrubs his face, and then the back of his neck, and then looks a little confused as to where he’s supposed to put the washcloth. With a flick of your hand, it floats off to the kitchen sink.

You study Peter’s face for a moment. He seems to have worked the distress out of his system, or at least the first wave of it. Now he just looks exhausted. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“Okay, that was… That was a lot,” he says.

Understatement of the century. It’s incredibly jarring to see the cheerful, unshakeable Peter Maximoff break down completely like that. But more than that, it worries you that he was trying to keep this buried.

“Now I get why the professor was so adamant about you taking some time off,” you say.

Peter shoots you a half-hearted grin. “Yeah… I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda trying to prove him wrong. But he was right, as usual.”

“It’s okay to give yourself time to work through this,” you say. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to go around telling everyone what you’re feeling, but… you can always tell me.”

Peter slouches down in his seat a little, leaning close to nestle his head against your shoulder.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he says at length.

“Hate to break it to you, but that ship has sailed,” you say, fondly. “If you’re not okay, you can tell me. And if there’s something you’re not ready to talk about, you can tell me that, too. I’ll be here for you when you are.”

“Can you do me a favor?” he asks, sounding a bit hesitant. “Could you, like… check in with me now and then? Because if it’s up to me to start that kinda conversation, I get the feeling that I just… won’t. At least not right away. It’s a bad habit I gotta unlearn.”

“You can count on me,” you say.

“Well, I knew that already. But, y’know, thanks.”

You sit in silence for a moment, and you’re starting to wonder if Peter’s fallen asleep when he speaks up again.

“I don’t think I ever actually thanked you,” he says, “For coming to my rescue, I mean. Everything that you went through trying to bring me home-”

You squeeze his hand, interrupting him before he can start spiraling.

“Peter, don’t start beating yourself up over this. I love you, alright? I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if I had to. I mean, hopefully I won’t ever have to, but still,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, but still. In this case, a thank-you isn’t the kinda thing you wanna leave unsaid.” Peter sighs, then laughs a little. “My dad’s right about you, y’know.”

“Wait, what did he say about me?” You shouldn’t be surprised by it, but you’re slightly alarmed by the idea of Mr. Lehnsherr discussing you with Peter.

“He said, ‘Peter, when you find someone who cares about you that much, don’t ever take it for granted,’” he says, in a fair imitation of Mr. Lehnsherr. “‘Very little is certain in this world. See that you take care of that one.’”

“He didn’t say that,” you say, falling back on denial in the face of such a compliment.

“He did,” says Peter. “And he also said that you make the best apple strudel he’s ever tasted, so there’s that.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Still… it’s kinda nice to think that Mr. Lehnsherr approves of you. He is Peter’s dad, after all.

At hearing you laugh, Peter smiles a little, and then moves to sit up straight again, running his hands through his hair.

“I should… I should head out,” he begins.

“Why?” you interrupt. “It’s late already. Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t think I’m gonna fit on this thing,” he says, gesturing at the loveseat, “And there’s no way I’m taking your bed.”

“Do you kick in your sleep?”

Peter tilts his head, not quite following. “No…?”

“Then the solution is simple,” you say. “We can share my bed.”

There’ll be enough room. It’s actually kinda funny that most rooms in the mansion only have twin-sized beds, but they managed to squeeze a queen-sized mattress into the cottage’s tiny bedroom.

“Are you sure?” says Peter. “I mean, I can get back to my room in seconds, y’know, and with your knee still hurt, I don’t wanna put you out…”

You smiling faintly at him. Still trying not to worry you, is he?

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you say, “But I recall you saying that you don’t want to be alone right now.”

Peter laughs and looks at the floor. “I don’t. Is it… is it really okay for me to stay?”

“I want you to stay,” you reassure him. “Come on.”

You push aside the blanket, and Peter helps you to your feet. You keep hold of his hand and start to lead him back to your room. But after a few steps, Peter stops abruptly, tugging at your hand.

“Wait a minute,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

Peter goes to where you’d hung up his jacket and starts rummaging through the pockets.

“Would you believe this thing was in my pocket the whole time I was in Westview?” he asks absently. “I’d been carrying it around for a week already, and… Well, you know me. Timing was never one of my strengths.”

Peter turns back, flashing you that self-deprecating grin of his – and gets down on one knee.

“Peter…?”

It feels like all the air has been forced out of your lungs. For a second, you have the strangest certainty that you must be misinterpreting the situation, until you see the ring box in his hand.

He shakes his head, looking up at you earnestly.

“Listen, I know I’m a mess right now,” he says, “And if you want me to ask again at a better time, someplace a little more romantic, then I will – but I want to say this now. I have to, because… because nothing in life is certain, except for the fact that I love you.”

Peter takes your hand, pressing it to his lips, murmuring your name. You’re dimly aware that everything that isn’t nailed down has started to float into the air, but none of that matters. As far as you’re concerned, the only thing that exists in this moment is Peter – his hand holding yours, his smile, his big dark eyes gazing up at you.

“In the darkest, loneliest, bleakest moments of my life, you were the hope inside me that wouldn’t quit. And you can’t shrug it off or say I’m biased, because it isn’t just me,” he says. “You have brightened this place for so many people. For the students, for Kurt, for Hank, even for the professor, even for my dad, and you’re already trying to do the same for Wanda, too.”

If not for the roof above you and the anchoring warmth of Peter’s hand holding yours, you feel that you could float off over the moon. You could turn the winter to spring if he asked you to.

“You asked me to stay. I’ll stay forever, if you’ll have me,” he says. “Will you marry me?”

You want to say something eloquent. You want to tell him so many things – how much his unshakeable faith in you means to you, how you’d cross a hundred realities and face twice as many witches to make sure that he’s home and safe and happy, how much you love him – but you can’t find the words.

There’ll be time for all that later. Peter’s gazing up at you, and though there’s urgency in his expression, there’s not even the tiniest shred of doubt.

There are so many things you want to say, but all you can manage is, “Yes.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and an ecstatic smile tugs at his mouth.

“Yes…?” he repeats.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yes.”

If Peter beams any harder, he’ll literally start glowing. He slips the ring onto your finger, and it fits perfectly. Knowing him, he probably used his speed to find out your ring size without you ever knowing, the sneak.

He looks back up at you. Though it’s still obvious that he’d been crying not long before, his smile perfectly, genuinely happy. It’s the smile you first fell in love with, the one you haven’t seen since before he was taken, and –

And suddenly your lips tremble. Tears start welling up in your eyes. You press your hand to your mouth, blinking hard.

Peter stands hurriedly.

“Don’t cry!” he says, “Please? Because if you start crying, I’m not gonna be able to hold it together over here.”

“I’m trying!” you blurt out, laughing in spite of yourself. “I’m just really happy, okay?”

Peter pulls you close and kisses you. You wish that you’d never have to let go. And when the kiss ends, Peter keeps his arms around you.

You take a moment to look more closely at the ring. It’s a simple gold band with a single stone – an opal. Flecks of pale, fiery colors flicker within it as you shift it in the light.

“I know it’s not a diamond,” Peter says. “I kinda thought this suited you better. Diamonds seems so… ordinary, I guess, but you’re our Wild Card. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you something else. I just-”

“Peter,” you interrupt. You lace your fingers through his, smiling up at him. “It’s perfect.”

He smiles, and then a curious expression takes over. He tilts his head slightly, sniffing at the air. “Did you make a pie?”

You laugh. “Strawberry rhubarb, as requested. Do you want a piece?”

“Y’know, for once in my life?” Peter raises his eyebrows, incredulous with himself. “I don’t think I could eat a thing. I know I’m repeating myself here, but tonight’s been… a lot.”

“It’ll make a good breakfast, then,” you say. “Come on. We could both use a good night’s sleep.”

Nevermind that it was already past one in the morning. Telekinetically turning off the lights as you go, you lead Peter back to the bedroom.

It feels so… natural. It feels ordinary in the best way possible. After the chaos, the worry, the breakdown – something so domestic feels strangely cathartic. Just you and your fiancé, getting ready for bed, thinking about what you’re gonna have for breakfast the next morning.

There are plenty of uphill battles to face tomorrow, and in the days to come. But for now, a few moments of peace are more than welcome. And Peter is still Peter. He’s making himself right at home. In a blink, he’s down to his t-shirt and boxers, and settling himself in on the far side of the bed.

“Oh… Oh man, this is nice,” he says. He lays his head back on the pillow and somehow seems to sink further into the mattress, then immediately raises his head again. “You’re still sure you’re okay with me staying?”

You snort. “I just agreed to marry you. Yes, you can stay.”

“Well, it never hurts to be sure.”

And with that, he snuggles back under the comforter. Ridiculous and sweet as ever – and you wouldn’t want him any other way. You’re still worried about him, but it’s not the same sort of worry. You’ll always be worried about his safety and health and wellbeing, but you can trust that he won’t shut you out again, and that’s reassuring.

Turning off the last light, you climb into bed as well. For a moment, you both stay on your separate sides. Then Peter skootches closer, and then a little closer, and then closer again until he’s nestled against your side.

There’s a few seconds of silence before you both break down into giggles.

“Listen, I never shared a bed with somebody before,” Peter says.

“Me neither,” you admit.

“It’s nice, though.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

Peter wraps one arm comfortably around your waist.

“Can we maybe keep talking for a while?” he says. “Not, like, about anything specific. I just don’t wanna start overthinking again.”

He lets out a self-conscious laugh, and you lace your fingers through his. Hmm… Well, there is something you’ve been wondering about.

“I gotta ask,” you say, “Did anybody know that you were going to propose? Besides the professor, I mean.”

“In my defense,” says Peter, “I didn’t actually tell him. He just did that thing, you know? You’ve got something on your mind, and then you look up and you make eye contact with the professor, and then it’s straight panic because you know that he knows. But, uh, aside from him it was just my mom and my dad.”

Suddenly, that strange little exchange you’d had with Mr. Lehnsherr last night makes a lot more sense.

“He’s gonna be your father-in-law, y’know,” Peter says. You swear you can hear the teasing grin in his voice. “You can’t keep calling him ‘Mr. Lehnsherr’ now.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll start calling him-” And you find yourself unable to spit out the name ‘Erik.’ You pull the comforter up around your chin, muttering, “I’ll work my way up to it.”

Peter laughs. Then, apropos of nothing:

“Hey, when’s the last time you went on vacation?” he asks.

Confused, you turn your head to look at him. They’ve adjusted to the dim light enough for you to see Peter’s expression is earnest.

“Oh man, I don’t know,” you say, casting your mind back. “I know I took a couple long weekends, but I… I actually don’t think I’ve taken a real vacation since I started working here.”

“I thought so,” says Peter. “We should go somewhere together.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m not saying we should elope or anything,” he clarifies. “I’m getting kinda traditional in my old age.”

“You aren’t even thirty-five,” you counter drily.

“Be that as it may, I’m only saying that I kinda like the idea of having a real, actual wedding,” he says, smiling when you nod in agreement, “And also that we should go someplace tropical for a couple weeks. Like, not right away. After your knee heals up some more, and after Wanda and the twins get settled in. What do you think?”

The thought of relaxing on some warm sunny beach, or watching the stars over the ocean, just the two of you – it’s incredibly tempting.

“The professor did give us time off,” you say hesitantly, “But…”

“They can find somebody else to shovel snow and substitute teach for a little while. Didn’t you ever rebel as a teenager?” he asks, mock-accusingly. “Like, even once?”

“Uh…” You struggle to think back. Did you ever?

“Wow.” Peter grins, leaning in to kiss you cajolingly. “Come on – run away with me!”

“You’re a bad influence,” you tease.

Peter tilts his head. “Is that a yes…?”

“Hmm… a couple weeks in a tropical paradise with you,” you say. When it comes down to it, this is hardly a difficult decision. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good,” he says. “We’ll make plans over breakfast.”

In the dim light, you smile at him, murmuring an I-love-you. He kisses you again, and rests his head on the pillow beside yours. He breathes in deep and, with a contented sigh, closes his eyes. The little groundskeeper’s cottage has never felt more like home than it does in this moment.

Very little in life is certain; you know that. The shadow of Westview hasn’t left Peter entirely, and it may be a long time until he’s no longer troubled by it. But you’re certain that you love him, and that he loves you. Your hand folds around his.

“Hey, Peter?” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Just checking in, like I promised. How are you doing?”

Peter smiles as he presses his lips against your forehead. “Y’know what? I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight.”

[maddiethebull]

Mammon (Obey Me!) - Prompt #26 - “Hold me, call me darling, kiss my cheeks, do whatever.”

This fic was requested by @maywish27 Thank you for making a request <3

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

Most of us know the feeling, the gut wrenching, heart dropping feeling of getting your heart broken. If it happens enough, it seems to just deter you from falling in love. You may date, but you keep your distance, you make sure not to let yourself get too close because the thought of feeling that way again is just too terrifying. You had dealt with this feeling for a long time, never seeking to change it because after a while you just began avoiding dating and romance altogether. That was, until it was thrown right in your face without hopes of you escaping, love and affection and- and, well, Mammon.

It began normally, at first, you guys were simple acquaintances and he’d occasionally try to rope you into his money making schemes, but before you knew it, you were looking forward to hearing his ridiculous plans about making money, and that turned into wanting to see him smile, turning into making him smile whenever you could, turning into lingering looks at his lips or in his eyes. It went fast; but just like a tree getting bigger, you barely noticed it happening, and at the same time, it was completely inevitable. You had fallen in love. Maybe it was the way he smiled so gently as he said your name that night you two talked in the garden, maybe it was just the look in his eyes whenever he laughed; you weren’t sure why or how, but you were pulled into a deep ravine that you couldn’t get out of now. It terrified you. It was the best and worst feeling you’d ever experienced. 

Although, unbeknownst to you, you weren’t the sole victim of cupid’s arrows, Mammon had fallen head over heels faster than he could comprehend. Now the two of you were in a game of cat and mouse, him chasing, looking for an opportunity to talk to you and you running like the wind to huddle yourself back up in a place where he couldn’t get to you. It was childish and stupid, but feelings have a way of making people do such things. 

Where did this end up? Well, so far, nothing has changed in the story. Mammon was currently on his way to a modeling gig while wracking his brain for answers. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ ‘Am I not good enough?’ ‘I miss their smile…’ The Devildom didn’t have much of a sun, but still, he felt a strange burning feeling as if there was bright light shining right into his eyes. He checked his D.D.D. for the billionth time that day, only a couple texts from the brothers; Beel asked for some food, Satan asked for some spellbook, and Lucifer scolded him for not locking the door on his way out. ‘Hmph, can that guy ever say anything good about me?’ Mammon stopped in his tracks, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He put his D.D.D. back into his pocket and leaned on a brick wall to take a breath. There wasn’t a single message from you. Looking up at the dim sky, he put his hands to his face, ran them through his stark white hair and let his arms drop beside him. He let his legs fold and sat with his back against the wall, ‘just for a minute’ he thought ‘I’ll just stay here for a minute.’ He could feel the tears forming in his eyes, but he did nothing to stop them, it was pointless because he didn’t care if he cried about it, he didn’t care if anyone saw him crying about it. You barely spoke to him, you only saw each other at meals, you stopped hanging around with him after R.A.D., you just up and vanished. It broke his heart and it all felt so unfixable. He sighed a heavy sigh, stood up, and went back on his way to the studio. 

You were in your room, staring at your own D.D.D., foolishly hoping for a text from Mammon. You didn’t know how to handle these feelings, but after a while of keeping your distance from him, it felt worse to be away from him than to be scared of loving him. You didn’t know how to fix this. You tried smiling at him more, you tried saying good morning and goodnight again, but maybe you’d ruined what you two had. He only smiled back and repeated the good mornings and goodnights, nothing more. Perhaps he didn’t want to talk to you? ‘No, that’s not right’ you thought as you remembered his pining for your attention, the way he looked when you said you couldn’t hang out. Maybe you really had ruined it. 

Your D.D.D. buzzed and you hurriedly picked it up checking if it was Mammon and... it wasn’t. It was only Lucifer reminding you about your study session together. Disgruntled and confused, you sighed and pried your frame from the bed before making your way to his study. 

*FLASH* 

The camera focused on the demon’s face. His golden eyes reflected the light in the studio. 

“Perfect, bro!” said a faceless cameraman that Mammon had never met before. 

He forced a smile, “Great.” 

He continued to model for a product he would never use as he wore a pink suit that he found rather garish with his hair done up with sticky hair products that he found uncomfortable. Even with everything going on, the only thought on his mind was you. How you’d laugh with him about all of that and it would show up on a magazine you’d buy just to remember the jokes between the two of you. An almost inconceivable wince crossed his handsome features as *flash* more pictures were taken.

At break time he rushed to his phone and checked if there were any new messages. There weren’t. He bit his lip, contemplating what to do. He eventually opened the messages between you and him and began typing and deleting and typing and deleting. He couldn’t figure out what to say to you or if you’d even want him to say anything. He never managed to write a full sentence before he was called back onto the set. At the end of the shoot, he took the suit off and fixed his hair, he walked out of the vibrantly colored studio feeling like a paintbrush filling in everything with grey. 

Mammon made his way to the busy streets and it seemed like every face he took the time to look at looked like yours, that demon’s eye color, the long eyelashes on the other, the hair color on the demon selling food, the smile on another selling flowers. He was insufferably in love and it was showing. 

You knocked on the door, being let in by Lucifer. 

With a frown and dejected tone you greeted him, “Hey.” 

“Hello, MC, is something the matter?” he asked, immediately noticing that something was obviously wrong. 

You groaned and flopped your books onto the table, 

“Of course there is! You’re just not the one I wanted to notice.”

His red eyes rolled as he retorted, “Who was supposed to notice?”

You sat down and put your head in your hands, murmuring, “Mammon.”

At this point Lucifer’s eyes were going to roll out of his head, “Ugh, what did he do this time?”

You grunted and replied, “Nothing… I did the something this time.” You frowned and fretted, “What's wrong with me?”

He sat down next to you, speaking in sincerity, “MC, from my perspective, there is nothing wrong with you.”

Without a reply from you, he spoke again, “just tell him what the matter is.”

Picking your head up from the table, you gave Lucifer the look of a sad puppy and then flopped your head right back down. He then tapped the top of your head, alerting you that you came here to study and you were going to do it. Reluctantly, you followed along as he scaled through a book you simply couldn’t focus on, I mean, how could you?

*GASP* 

“Oh my gosh! It’s you! Hey look it’s Mammon! From the magazines!!!” 

He was turning a corner as he slowly made his way back home and was confronted by a group of squealing fans, to be quite honest it gave him a boost. He beamed a smile and replied to the group doting over him, 

“That’s me, right before your eyes! THE great Mammon!”

Just as he said that, remembrance of you rushed its way through his thoughts, he knew you’d make fun of him for saying that. He knew that it would make you laugh… In fact, he had only seriously called himself that once, the first time, any time after that was just him giving in to a desire to see that great big smile form on your face and hear the laugh that escaped from it.  

After some autographs and photos, the squealing fans had left and Mammon was faced with a choice, should he go home or not? A look at his phone with no message from you made up his mind; he didn’t want to go home if it meant he couldn’t hear that laugh, gosh, did he have enough of this feeling. He decidedly took out his D.D.D. and sent a text to you that he’d been waiting to send for a long time. He made his way through the tall buildings and the business people filling a bustling city and landed on a calm beach as the faint sun in the devildom tucked itself away. He could feel that distance, he knew the reality but somehow he chose not to believe it. He chose to look at you as if it were the day you’d met, as if he was always going to look at you and light up like a billion stars in the night sky. So, he walked and walked and walked; he walked until his legs gave out on that beach beside the city. He sat down, looking out to the lights beyond the lake, it was so quiet, he only had his thoughts to keep him company as chilly air brushed past him and him alone. He flopped down, letting the sand run through his hair, run through his hands. A faint golden light bounced off his features. It seemed to hold an air of sadness, much like a painting that could never be completed. In feeble attempts to clear his mind, you’d appear in his mind’s eye, when he closed his eyes he could see you, when he took deep breaths, he heard the sound of your voice. 

“UGH!” You slammed the book closed, FINALLY you were done studying. Lucifer picked his own books up to put away right before he paused,

“MC, I-” his hand tensed around the book he held and he cleared his throat. 

“Hm?”

“Nothing, I was just going to say that- that I’m sure Mammon would understand how you feel if you just talk to him. I’m not one for discussing emotional matters, you know that, but it does not mean I am emotionless; I know more than you might think about the subject, such as I know that this situation won’t be resolved unless someone says something.”

You looked thoughtfully at the books in your own hands, 

“I’m just scared. Scared it won’t turn out like I want it to and scared that both of us might get hurt.”

Lucifer made his way to his desk, “If he hurts you then I’ll torture him.”

“Lucifer!”

He chuckled, “What? I was only kidding, sort of.” He sighed, “MC, if you don’t do anything then you’ll never know what would’ve happened. To put it lightly, I’ve had experiences where I’ve been a coward and I still hold regret for it. It is rather hard to tell someone how you feel, but it is my belief that a lot of the time, it’s worth the risk of getting hurt.”

Just then your D.D.D. buzzed, it was Mammon asking if you two could talk. You stood up from your chair, “Thank you for the advice, Lucifer,” you said as you decidedly made your way out of the room to go and find Mammon.

You left Lucifer sitting alone in his office chair, wishing that perhaps he could have been more confident in the moment, but nonetheless glad that you once again had that beautiful smile on your face.

Meanwhile at the lakeside, 

“Hah. What am I doing here?” he asked himself as he splayed out on the sand, staring into a sky that had gone dark while he waited for a reply from you. How could you still be everywhere when you were gone? Why did he have to feel like this? He didn’t have any answers, maybe he didn’t want them; it would be too complicated, too painful. He let out a disgruntled sigh and stood up while brushing the sand from his clothes. 

“Just five more minutes,” he whispered in desperate hope that you would show up. He stretched his gaze up to the sky once more, “five more minutes.”

“Mammon?” 

He whipped his head around to find you walking his way. He was dead silent, staring with wide eyes as you approached, a worried expression on your face. 

Once you got close enough, you asked, 

“You said you needed to talk to me?”

It felt uncomfortable being here, having this tangible hesitation hanging in the brisk air. It felt uncomfortable to see that look on his face, seeing every emotion he felt in that moment; you so badly wanted to yell out, saying ‘I’m sorry!’ saying, ‘I wish I weren’t so scared!’ but those vulnerable words were left as thoughts as timid words took over. 

“What was it you wanted to say?”

He bit his lip, formulating a response, “Honestly? Anything. I just wanted- I needed to talk to you and hear your voice.”

After a moment’s pause, you asked him, 

“Mammon, are you okay?”

His face contorted into a cheap half smile as an empty laugh rolled off his lips with a response, 

“No.” 

“No?” you asked.

He didn’t accord any response and the two of you stood, stuck in your own thoughts and feelings.

You got closer, 

“Mammon, I- I’m sorry… I don’t want you to not be okay.” You crossed your arms to fight the chill that the gentle wind held. Mammon looked at you, 

“Are you cold?” 

You sighed, “I’m fine… I-”

“Here,” he said, cutting you off as he removed his coat to give to you. You took it from him as he seemed to refuse looking into your eyes. 

Closer, again, you spoke,

“Please, just tell why you said you’re not okay.”

With the moonlight giving his figure a soft glow, he looked down. His brow furrowed and he was running his hands through his hair. He stumbled through a couple half sentences without looking at you until out came a sigh mixed with a laugh as if to say ‘fuck it.’ He looked at you. Pure emotion made a home in his eyes as he stared into your own and spoke in a soft voice,

“I’m in love with you.” 

It was in a matter of fact tone said with no hesitation, said with nothing else but a breeze that threatened to steal his quiet words away,

“And I- I just have to tell you that. At least once, I need you to hear it.”

There was a long pause, he wasn’t looking for an answer, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to hear one. You opened your mouth but you froze, you didn’t know how to reply, it made you so nervous that any words you tried to form just wouldn’t. The only noise was the gentle collision of calm waves against the rocks. 

“Mammon, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hold me,” with a delicate upturn of his lips, as if he was telling himself he knew this would happen all along, he said “call me names, kiss my cheeks, do whatever, do something, do anything.” Desperation wracked his words, as heavy teardrops fell from his eyes like boulders from a cliff, blurring the image of you while a skin deep smile failed to cover how hurt he was truly feeling. 

“I don’t want to be ‘just friends’ anymore, I can’t.”

You couldn’t get any more words out of your mouth before your throat was seized by choking sobs. Hearing him say that, it flipped a switch inside you. You took his face in your hands and pushed your lips against his, the teardrops tasting salty as you said what you wanted to say, what you needed to say, without using any words. Screaming ‘I love you’ with every silent moment passing, with every tear that rolled down your face. You flew your white flag to the war inside yourself and chose to lose yourself into the kiss as he cupped his hands around your cheeks and pulled you closer and closer under the night sky. 

And so, that’s how it ended up. A childish impulse driven away by a different, brighter, childish impulse and a nighttime breeze skipping across the sand. 

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

Oof there's a long story behind this one, took some inspiration from real life and also a little bit of inspiration from an episode of the office. Bonus points for anyone who knows what episode lmao. 

Hope you enjoyed reading! It's written a little differently than my other stories but i like the way it came out :)

[jenomark]

Part 3

➔Pairing: Idol!Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Johnny ➔Genre: Smut (but with a plot!) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration ➔Word count: 6,500

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

↞ Part 1 ↞ Part 2 

  You needed a soft place to land when you fell. He pretended like he wasn’t the right kind of landing, his Gemini lips razor sharp, the words pouring from his mouth meant to bewitch you. Though he’d never admit it, the boy was a soft caramel candy that melted between your lips, his chocolate center all over your tongue. Emotional unavailability turned into him showing up when you were sad, when you could feel nothing at all. He walked aimlessly until he found himself at your door. He always answered your calls. All the promises and needs in the world began to feel like commitment, his belongings placed strategically all over your apartment, the roof of his mouth hiding the dreaded B word. Boyfriend. Best friend.  In the darkness, he would feel you, notice you, make you real again. He would unwrap you like a piece of candy, moving you around in his fingers until he wanted a taste. In the light, you were free falling.

11:46 a.m.

You:  What do you mean Johnny is on his way?

11:52 a.m.

You: He’s here! What should I do? I’m not ready for this.

11:53 a.m.

You:  I am going to kill you, Donghyuck.

                          24 Hours before Haechan sent the texts

  Haechan let himself into your apartment. He never walked up your stairs unannounced. He told you he respected the line between privacy and whatever you were doing together, but you thought he was just too scared to see you in your natural habitat. Standing outside in the daylight made him nervous, and hiding behind doors had become so natural with his profession. You didn’t mind, even if it brought up a ton of questions you weren’t ready to answer. Secretly, you liked going to the top of your stairs and seeing him standing there, only his eyes visible underneath his Balenciaga hat. There were days he barely made it up the stairs before you jumped on him, your mouth and hands full of longing. 

“You’re late.” you said.

“Wrong,” he said. “It’s exactly ten in the morning. If I’m late, it’s because your clocks are wrong.”

  He trudged up the steps with his face looking down. In one of his hands was a gift bag, and in the the other, flowers so vibrantly red that you could see them in the darkness of the stairwell. When he reached the top of the steps, he pulled his mask down and pecked you on the lips. Watching him walk through your apartment felt natural. He knew exactly where to put the flowers. He padded around in your slippers, his movements so comfortable you would think he was shifting his mail from the table. He sat in his favorite chair facing you, his hands rummaging around in the bag he brought. There was something about his ease of existing that made you remember how you felt about him. He wasn’t quiet in the slightest. He yelled in your space, his lungs expanding to fill the room with a confident breath. You wheezed.  More and more, you were realizing he was everything you wanted to be, everything you wanted to be with. He won.

“You look handsome.” you said.

  Haechan’s hair was faded, and it matched his skin tone even better than his natural hair color did. Dark hair, you had come to realize, made him look more like a child. The Haechan before you was a man, the veins in his arm ropy and thick, like he had worked every day for the last ten years. You had looked at him many times before, but each time was more eye-opening than the last. You began to notice the little scars on his face without the shift of light. You could draw every mole on his body without a map, knew the faces he made when he was annoyed with menial things, and it was getting easier to spot all of the signs that you were falling for. 

“I know.” he said without his usual lack of enthusiasm. 

 Out from the bag came a box. You didn’t have to hear him say it to know what it was. He smiled when he pulled it out, ripping off the plastic like he was tearing into a present he had always wanted. Haechan got up from his chair to present you with his gift: a brand new phone to replace the one he had broken. You were a little taken aback, your eyes darting over the face of the box, and your hands not knowing what to do with themselves. 

“You know,” you said. “Most girls would expect jewelry.”

  He wasn’t listening. He unearthed the phone from its box and held it in his hands. You felt the weight of your own slightly damaged phone in your pocket. He once called you stubborn because you refused to upgrade to a better model, but you were never one to burn money on things you didn’t need. Your phone still worked. Besides, the ridiculous attachment you had to it was difficult to explain. 

“What do you think?” he asked, holding out the phone for you to inspect. “Do you like it?”

  Haechan had peeled away the plastic to reveal the phones shiny facade. It was the same model as his, but he held it differently in the palm of his hand. You could tell that he wanted you to be pleased by his act of generosity. You made eye contact with him and smiled. You didn’t want a new phone, and he knew that.

“It’s nice,” you said. “You didn’t have to buy me a new phone. I thought you were joking when you said that.”

  Again, Haechan wasn’t listening to you. He looked down at the phone and turned it on. He sat back down in the chair to fidget with it, his fingers smudging the screen. You sat on the edge of the couch and tucked your hands between your legs. 

“We can get everything properly set up tomorrow,” he said. “Until then, you’ll have to use your old phone.”

“Why tomorrow?” you asked. “Why not today?”

“I have a date today,” he said.  He checked the expensive watch on his wrist. “I really shouldn’t be here right now. “

“Oh,” you said. “A date?”

  Your voice sounded too high, too sad. You cleared your throat. You opened your mouth to say something else, but the message was marked for deletion. You blinked a few times, the make-up you wore last night making your eyes stick together. You felt like a robot waiting for someone to program the right things for you to say. Speak now. Tell him you’re not bothered. You stood up, wishing desperately that you could retract the emotion from your voice. You took the phone from his hands and thanked him quietly, dragging the bag out from between his legs. You felt awkward and silly for ever thinking that you could be more than just friends. You moved around the room, cleaning up things that were already clean. You needed to keep busy, needed to keep your mind distracted. You could feel Haechan watching you spiral, but you didn’t dare turn to look at him. You wanted to keep just a little bit more of your dignity. 

“Johnny set me up with another idol,” he said.  “ I’m sorry. I didn’t know about it until I came home last night. I was going to tell you, but I wanted to tell you in person.”

“No,” you said, still moving. “It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me anything, Donghyuck. You have your life, and I have mine. We’re adults.”

  Haechan stood up. His slippered feet were loud on your floor. Each step he took felt like a stab to your heart. You didn’t stop moving. You pushed a chair in. You shifted an empty box onto another table. You caressed a plant in passing, its leaves already dead. You wiped invisible dust from a table top. You stared at the clock on your wall a little too long, as if you too were expecting suitors to come knocking on your door. He was right. Your clock was running too fast. Haechan followed you as you moved, the sound of him making you nervous. He was trying to get your attention, but you were avoiding him. There was a speck of dirt across the room that you needed to attend to. You were going to rid it from this earth until he moved in front of you, blocking your path.

“Talk to me,” he said. “I want to be honest with you.”

“What should I say?”

  You dropped your arms to your side. You stared at him directly, your eyes so wide, your back ramrod straight. You wanted to give the appearance of confidence but you feared that you just looked unhinged. You took a deep breath and waited for him to talk, but he didn’t.

Even though you knew it was a mistake, you continued, “ I’m happy for you. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”

“It’s just a date,” he said. “I’m not getting married.”

“That’s good to hear,” you said. “Who knows? Maybe you will marry her and you’ll live happily ever after.” 

 The sarcasm was too thick to strain from your voice. You could feel the conversation turning sour, in real time. You looked at him and he looked at you, his beautiful face full of sun. You turned around and closed the blinds, in a huff. You didn’t want the outside world to see what kind of person you could become when you were backed into a corner. In your short time being with him, you both managed to keep the real world out of your relationship. You never fought with him. If you bickered, the make-up sex saved you from destruction. You never found an issue with anything he did.  For you, everything he did was a preface to the love story you sometimes fantasize about having with him. He was always the one person in your life whose relationship to you was well defined.  You were the one in the wrong. Even though you knew it well, you couldn’t stop your emotions from wreaking havoc on what you had built in your little apartment. Haechan didn’t just take the steps up to you all on his own. You were the one who met him halfway, and you walked the rest of the way up together.

“What’s wrong? You look sad, ” he asked. “Talk to me.”

 You tried moving past him, but he held you by your arms. You couldn’t look him in the eyes without crying, so he took your chin and forced you to. You didn’t know how to tell him that the thought of him being with someone else made you feel sick. It didn’t seem right to ask him not to go on the date. 

“Nothing is wrong,” you said. “Everything is okay, on my end.” 

  Haechan dropped your head. You could see the annoyance on his face. Though he tried to be patient, he was physically tired.  He looked away from you and looked at the blinds you had closed. You took a step back from him. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was sadness you read on his face, too.

“Are we friends?” he asked.

You were surprised by the question. “Of course we’re friends. Donghyuck, I’ve never wanted to be someone's friend as badly as I wanted to be yours. ”

 He looked back at you. He was searching your eyes for the truth, the real truth. He never quite trusted you with his thoughts, his fears, or his concerns. You hoped for profound conversations with him, but he was a wall full of locks.  Reading him was even more difficult than you thought it’d be. The sadness you thought you saw looked a little like humiliation when you opened the box to look inside. Were you the one who had read too much into the relationship? Did he show up at all hours of the night only because he felt sorry for you?

“Go on the date,” you said. “Live your life.” 

“Is that what you want?”

No. “ I want you to be happy.” 

  Haechan laughed. There was no joy in his laugh, only sorrow. “You frustrate me,” he said. He walked forward, and you walked backward until your back was up against the blinds. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“I want you to go on the date.” you said. 

  Your automatic responses returned. You sounded dead inside, a hollow, metal body without any feeling. The moment he interlocked your fingers with his and looked down at the way your hands fit together, you could feel yourself becoming real. You had feelings, a heart, and thoughts in the shape of him. He touched his free hand to your cheek, warming your skin with his. He removed his hat and moved forward enough so that you could kiss his forehead. 

“If that’s what you want,” he said softly.

  Haechan picked you up and set you delicately on top of the table in front of the window. Your ass barely balanced on its edge, but with your legs wrapped around his waist, you kept yourself steady. As he kissed you, your head hit the window. You pulled the shirt tucked into his pants, but you didn’t let go of his hand. He lifted your arms together and pushed them against the blinds. You could hear them snapping in half, but you didn’t care. You could feel his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his devotion to you covering all your wounds, like a band-aid. 

“Not here,” you whispered.

  He lifted you up into his arms and tried carrying you to the bedroom, but you didn’t make it. You both capsized, sinking down onto the floor amidst boxes that didn’t belong to you, and a heart that didn’t, too. You looked up at him and brushed his hair from his face. He smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes.

  When you felt him move inside of you for what you promised yourself should be the last time, you lost yourself in the heat. You pushed him off of your body until he was on his back. You held his arms down so he couldn’t touch you, and you rode him until you were sure you had fucked him out of your system.

  You tormented yourself with thoughts of him meeting a woman without a face. Underneath the pixelations, she must have been pretty, but it didn’t matter. Around 3 p.m, you imagined him picking her up for the date. He would avoid the public's attention and roll up in a managers car, his window rolled down a little so she would know it was him. Maybe she was a singer, and when she got in the car, she sang him a song that made him fall in love with her. Those thoughts chased you through your day, even after you tried sleeping them away. Your hands felt full of his body, long after he left. Around 5 p.m,  you touched yourself, imagining it was his hand drawing up your inner thigh.

 When Haechan left, he looked back at you from the bottom of the stairs. You leaned against the wall and let your hair fall in front of your face. He left the new phone with you. As always, he was going to leave his jacket on the hook. You were angry with him for not actualizing how his date would affect you. You couldn’t continue to fuck someone else’s man, even if it was after something as harmless as a first date. You would give him space to figure out what he wanted.

“I’ll see you,” he said. 

  You knew he meant later, or tomorrow. He didn’t find much of a problem with dating someone casually and then coming over to your apartment to fuck you. You excused him because of his age, but you didn’t think it was that valid of an excuse. After you fucked, you asked him politely to get dressed and leave. Haechan dressed silently, looking at you the whole time he was buckling his belt. If you returned his gaze, you knew you’d never let him walk out of your life.

“Yeah.” you said.

“Is that all you’re going to say to me?” he asked.

  Haechan placed the hat back on his head. You fought the urge to bowling ball yourself down your stairs and knock that hat right from his head. You didn’t own him. You didn’t want to own him. You didn’t want to be upset, and you didn’t want to keep so damn silent about how you really felt. Deep down, you convinced yourself that maybe it was for the best. Your relationship might never have worked if you brought it beyond sex, and if it did, you weren’t sure the rest of the world would accept you. It was natural for Haechan to date another idol, to avoid the press for as long as possible before making an announcement on some shitty tabloid website. It was natural for you to shut people out, holding yourself up in your apartment and only caring about work and the five hundred boxes that crowded your space.

“We’ll talk later.” you said.

 You decided to smile, to hide behind the pain that both of you could see standing at the top of the stairs, your heart bleeding down into your shoe. He turned his back on you and walked out of your door, slamming it shut behind him. 

  Since he left, you’d been moping around. You cried a few times, throwing the tissues onto the floor once you were done with them. You kept the blind shuts and watched movies all day, your legs folded haphazardly underneath you. Around half past seven at night, your phone pinged. You reached for it underneath all the tissues. The cracks in the phone let the light shine dully, but it was so bright in the dark apartment that it hurt your eyes. 

“What do you want?” you asked out loud.

  You saw Haechan’s text on your lock screen, a picture of him smiling behind it. Ignoring it would have been the wise choice, but you were too nosy for that. You took your phone and slid the lock open, your eyes squinting to read the texts. 

Haechan: Hope you’re doing well, y/n! I’m having coffee in this cold weather. It doesn’t taste too great. Dress warmly and stay healthy. Remember to take care of yourself.  I love you.

  When you noticed it was an automated text, you dropped your phone on the couch. As a joke, Haechan had set you up with an account weeks ago. “This way, “ he said. “Even when I’m not with you, I’m with you.” The texts he sent sometimes made you laugh. You could always tell when he wrote something with you in mind. Thousands of girls saw it every day, but the message was always meant just for you. You picked up your phone again and looked at the message. As you did, a selfie came through. In it, he was barely smiling, and his finger was poking his cheek. Looking closely at the background, you could see that he was at home. You had never been at his dorms, but he had sent you many graphic pictures from his bed. 

 You sat up and looked around your apartment. He was home. You stood up, your legs asleep, the pins and needles stabbing all the way down to your feet. You started at a run, but the pain was so great that you stumbled into a few boxes, knocking them over with a loud crash. You couldn’t move fast enough. You ran down your steps, stuffed your angry feet into your shoes, grabbed his jacket from the hook and wrapped it around your body. Flinging open your front door, you were immediately met with wind and rain. You went out anyway, holding your face away from the spray. You called an Uber and waited too long, your body shivering. When the car came, you didn’t make pleasantries with the driver. You tapped your hands on your knees the whole time and looked out of the window, asking yourself a million times what you were doing.

“Here!” you shouted when the Uber driver didn’t stop immediately.

“Let me pull over.” he said gruffly, his hand turning the wheel. 

 You waited impatiently, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone was walking down the street. In his neighborhood, it was easy to get caught, which is why you always avoided his dorm. Walking into the members on accident was extra dynamite in your path. You wouldn’t know how to explain why you were standing outside of their building in Haechan’s jacket, and with a scared shitless expression on your face.

“Please hurry,” you whispered, biting your knuckles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  You didn’t want to be too late. The whole ride over, you imagined how there was a possibility that he didn’t go home alone. You were the only person he had ever slept with. You didn’t know if he would take everything he learned from you and pass it onto someone else. You didn’t know if that was what he wanted.

  When the car pulled into the spot, you flung yourself out of it with only a thank you as a parting gift. You stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the building, breaking eye contact only as a couple passed you on the pavement. It had started snowing, the flakes falling from the sky so beautifully before they melted on the ground. You looked down at them landing on Haechan’s jacket, its beauty perfectly captured before it sunk down into the fabric. You looked back up at the building and thought about turning back when your phone pinged.

Haechan: Are you dressed warmly?

  At first, you thought it was another automated message. It wasn’t. You rubbed your thumb over his name, your fingernail getting stuck in the crack. You loved the phone so much, because every bit of him was all over it. You could transfer photos and keep them in clouds and drives, but his fingers were all over the buttons, and the memories of your smile were trapped behind the screen.  You ran your finger over the crack again, before replying:

You: I am. 

Haechan: Liar

  You looked down at your phone. Reading the word Liar made you feel emotional. You wiped a tear that had fallen on your cheek, with the back of your hand. You kept remembering how,  in the beginning,  you asked him if he was brave enough. You believed that you were the one prepared for him, but you weren’t. You were the coward. 

You: I’m very warm. You didn’t like the coffee?

Haechan: No

You: What was wrong with it?

Haechan: It wasn’t made by you

You: Oh.

Haechan: Are you going to tell me the truth now?”

You: About what?

  Your heart was hammering in your chest. You lifted your head up to the sky and felt the snow softening on your face. When you looked back down at your phone, he had already written back: 

Haechan: About being dressed warmly. I’ve worn that jacket, and it’s always made me cold.

 You smiled, because he was right. It took you too long to grasp what he had said. When you did, you looked up and there he was. Haechan put his phone back into his jacket and looked you up and down. The way you both stood mimicked the night you decided you couldn’t wait to have him any longer. This time, it was him who closed the gap between you. There were no thoughts, no words, no long, drawn out sighs. Haechan took a step toward you and pulled you against his chest. 

“Don’t worry, “ he said. “They won’t be back until midnight. We’re alone. ” 

  You clung to his arm in the elevator, your cheek taking a rest on his shoulder. The ride up to his dorms was mostly silent. Haechan hummed a song and you just listened, the warmth of the building making you feel sleepy. There was so much you wanted to confess, but it didn’t feel like the right time to talk. When the elevator stopped at his floor, he took your hands and moved you forward. 

“Are you ready to see where I live?” he asked. “Where I think about you every single night?”

 Your heart had been beating against your rib cage the entire time, and it wasn’t getting any quieter. You kept waiting for a manager to meet you at the door, for one of his members to catch you in the act of holding hands. When Haechan swung his front door open, you had to stop yourself from closing your eyes to shield yourself from any impending doom. 

“Ta-da.” he said, his voice sounding so small. 

  Haechan was right. You were alone. The living space was empty and dark, the only light coming from a source over the stove. You took a step inside and removed your shoes. He offered you his slippers which were too big for you, but you liked having a part of him in the way he had you.

“What do you think?” he asked.

  There was no girl waiting on the couch, her small face confused by your presence. There wasn’t anyone coming to pull the rug from underneath your feet. Haechan led you further inside, his hands never releasing yours. You didn’t want to pry too much into their private lives, so you swept your eyes over a few things before searching his face. He looked content with having you there, albeit, a little bit nervous. 

“I like it,” you said. “It’s much nicer than my place.”

“Obviously,” he said. 

  You nudged him, playfully. Haechan pulled you in the direction of a door. You could feel a sickness growing in your stomach. You didn’t think you were ready to see his bedroom, the life he led beyond your world. Though you worked for the same man, your lives couldn’t be any more different. Haechan put his hand on his doorknob. At the same time, you felt something tug harder on your insides.

“Wait,” you said, pulling his arm. “Are you sure you want me to see this? There is no going back, if we do.”

“It’s just my bedroom,” he said. “You don’t have to be so scared. You let me in. Now, let me. “

You nodded. “Okay.” 

  Haechan opened the door to reveal a bedroom that could have existed anywhere. His blankets and sheets were blue and plain. His white furniture was from IKEA, a wireless charger and a packet of make-up wipes resting on top. There was a speaker, a computer, and a bathroom off to the side. You kept expecting some kind of secret to jump out at you from behind the curtain, but when you looked at the window, you only saw your reflection staring back at you.

“Come in, “ he said. “ It’s really okay, I promise.”

 You walked further inside. Haechan shut and locked the door behind him. You stood awkwardly, your eyes taking in the symmetry of the room. You knew Johnny was his roommate and could figure out which things belonged to him. You didn’t love being among Johnny’s personal things when he didn’t know. You thought you could smell his cologne haunting you, but then you turned around to see a table with expensive bottles on top. Relax.

“It’s nice, “ you said. “This isn’t how I imagined it. I thought it would be messier.”

“Me?” he asked. “Messy?  You know me. I’m not messy.”

“Do I know you?” you asked.

  It was meant to be taken lightly, but Haechan’s face looked sad. You felt bad for saying it. You were going to apologize but then he took off his jacket and threw it in a corner of the room. You looked to where it fell, the lump it had become looking even more somber. When you turned back to him, he was pulling his shirt from his torso. You watched him strip until he was fully naked and standing at the end of his bed, his body for you to witness.

“This is me,” he said. “Your tongue knows me. Your hands, they’ve touched me in more places than this body. You find your way back to me when you’re sad. We try to fight it, but we’re not strong. You and I, we’re gutless. But I have a heart. I thought I could make it go away easily, but that isn’t true. You said I was intelligent once, and that isn’t true either. If I were intelligent, I would have told you a long time ago how I felt. I would have been brave. I accepted that date from Johnny because I was scared. “

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking your head. 

“It does to me,” he said. “I wanted you to fight for me. If I couldn’t do it, I wanted it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you. When I finally got you, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want it to ever end, but I knew we couldn’t keep going like that. “

  You stood in his room, and you removed your clothes, too. Piece by piece, they fell at your feet, each wrapping plunging to the floor. Being naked was easy, with him. You had sex so many times that you’d lost count. Being exposed to him felt different. You could feel that there was nothing left blocking the path between you. 

“So, we stop,” you said, stripping the last piece of clothing. “ Donghyuck, let's please stop. I’m tired.”

  He breached the space, his mouth on yours, his tongue melting like snowflakes on yours. You wrapped your arms around his middle and kept your body pressed tightly to his. He fell backwards onto his bed, with you on top of him. His hands were tangled in your hair before wandering all down your back. The noises coming from his throat as he kissed you were desperate. You moved your kisses down his body, from the tip of his chin, down his throat, over his chest, and on the sides of his hips. He was quiet and still, his fists clenching and unclenching. 

“I love you.” he whispered.

  You looked up. You kissed his mouth and asked him to say it again. Each time he did, you swallowed the words to keep them safe. Haechan gripped your waist and flipped you over until you were on your back. You hit the bed hard, your head bouncing back up. You had bitten your lip and tasted metallic on your tongue, but the pain made you laugh. You felt so happy, even when he looked distressed. Haechan held you close like he had damaged you, his head obscured by your neck.

“It’s okay, “ you whispered. “That’s not the first time you made me bleed.”

  As if remembering how roughly he had fucked you before, Haechan’s lust woke up from a deep sleep. He used his arms to raise himself above you. He looked like he was lost in a daze of happiness, his hair already a mess, his eyes already gleaming. Though it wasn’t the first time you had sex that day, it was the first time you felt fully in one piece. There would be time for more honest talks, but right then, it was time to make love to him.  You touched his chest before moving your hand down his belly to play with the fine hair there. His strength was minimal, so his arms shook as he held himself in that position. You wrapped your hands around his cock, the softness of it welcoming you home. 

“Baby, the things you do to me.” he whimpered, his words from before summoning so many feelings within you.

  You let him take the lead. He had learned enough from you, heard enough from you. He let you get him hard before taking over, his cock primed for your body. He kissed you again, his lips so soft and wet. You pulled him down so that you could hug him as he entered you, his body filling you up with so much love. Knowing that it wasn’t going to be the last time made it feel better than you could have imagined. Getting to be with him in a place so personal as the bed he slept in every day, progressed your relationship further than you ever would have thought.

  When all was finished, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You didn’t want to remember that it wasn’t over yet, that you were still a secret tucked safely underneath his bed sheets. You held onto him for a little bit longer before you had to let go.

“What happens now?” you asked, getting dressed.

  Haechan smiled. He was sheepish, his body folding like an accordion, back and neck bent, his throat so full of the most magical music. He put on his clothes inside out and brushed the hair nervously from his forehead. 

“We do what normal couples do,” he said. “We keep moving forward.”

“But we’re not a normal couple.” you said.

  You were fully dressed and ready to go. When he was finished, he brought you out into the living room so that you could put on your shoes. While you did that, he went back into his bedroom to erase every trace of you. You didn’t know if his members would be able to hear your moans as soon as they stepped foot in the dorm, your voice clinging like static electricity onto the curtains. To you, the smell of fresh sex stuck to everything. It wasn’t difficult to take one look at Haechan’s bedroom and know that love lived there. 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes. “ 

  Before he opened the front door, he kissed you one last time. You wanted him to sleep over at your place, but he had a schedule tomorrow. When one issue was moved from the path, a few more tumbled down. 

“But I will talk to you when I can,” he said. “And I will send you pictures of me so you don’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” you said. 

  You held him as you walked all the way to the elevator. He tried tickling you by slipping his fingers underneath your jacket, but you squirmed away. When you brought yourself back to him, you were both laughing and playing around. When the elevator signaled that it was getting ready to open, you parted naturally, but your hands were still moving towards each other like magnets.  When the elevator doors opened, Johnny stood there with headphones in his ears and his eyes looking from Haechan, to you. 

“Hello.” Johnny greeted you, pulling the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck.

  You nodded in greeting, your brain trying to remember how you must have looked to him. You were dressed. Check. Your hair was not a mess. Check. Both of your shoes were on the right feet. Check. You were too scared to look at Haechan. You didn’t want your look to betray anything you did in his bedroom. Johnny was very intelligent, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to make him suspicious. A second passed while you were thinking all of this. You thought you were out of the clear before Haechan stepped away from you, widening the already wide gap between you. You looked over at him at the same time as Johnny. The guilt on Haechan’s face was printed in red all across his cheeks. 

“You’re back early.” Haechan said.

Johnny smiled. “Yeah. Were you not expecting me back?”

  When Johnny looked at you, you knew it was over. You expected him to question both of you on the spot, but he just raised his eyebrows at Haechan and walked past him. When the door to the dorm shut behind Johnny, Haechan breathed a sigh of relief, but you weren’t so relaxed.

“He knows.” you said.

“Johnny?” Haechan asked. “He doesn’t know anything. I think he’s oblivious.”

  You really tried to hold onto that belief for as long as you possibly could. For a moment, as night turned to day, you pretended like you had fooled everyone. 

                                                Present Day

11:54 a.m.

You: Donghyuck!!

  Your phone slipped out of your hands and onto the floor as a fist hammered at your front door. You didn’t care about having another crack in your screen. After all, what was one more crack in your mess of a life? Quietly, you walked down your stairs. You waited at the bottom and hoped that he would stop knocking, that Johnny would disappear altogether.

“I can hear you breathing.” Johnny said through the door.

  You smoothed out the clothes you wore last night. When you got home, you fell into bed emotionally exhausted, without bothering to change. You liked to think you fell asleep with a smile on your face, but you were worried sick about how much Johnny knew. Waking up to Haechan’s texts was a nasty but unsurprising shock. 

“Sorry.” you muttered.

  You opened up the front door and gave Johnny your best “I’m innocent!” smile. He wasn’t wearing the clothes from the night before. In fact, he looked almost too perfect: his clothes pressed and his hair and make-up done. 

“Hi,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“I’m kind of busy right now,” you said. “Maybe come back later?”

“I think you’ll want to let me in for this.” he said.

  Johnny took his phone out of his pocket. You looked at the way his fingers worked to pull up a screen. You held onto the door to brace yourself, which was smart of you do. Johnny lifted up his phone to show you a picture of Haechan holding you outside of the 127 dorm, his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“Someone saw you and Haechan last night,“ he said. “ They pulled out their phone, took pictures, and then sold those pictures. The owner of those pictures now wants you to make an announcement through them, or they’re threatening to release a bunch of them today. So, can I come in now?”

  You took Johnny’s phone out of his hand and thumbed through a gallery of pictures taken outside of the building and what looked like pictures of the security footage from inside of the elevator. You handed the phone back to Johnny. You tried to work through the tornado of feelings swirling inside of you, but all that could come out of your mouth was a resounding “ Fuck.” 

[bisexualdaemon]

Taking Me Back

a/n: In which a drunk boy confesses his sins

Oh, hello! Yes, I’m coming to you live to say that this was supposed to be a blurb but turned out to be a 3.5k oneshot that will most likely actually have a second part because recovery is a thing that doesn’t get enough attention. I had this idea driving back home from out of town and listening to “Taking Me Back” by LANY. Highly suggest a listen. I was originally just going to write straight angst, but the more I wrote Shawn the softer I got...so without further ado, here it is. 

warnings: 3.5k of angsty sad boy...you might hate me later idk

Soft pellets of rain splash against the floor-to-ceiling windows as his warm hands trace slow, circular patterns on the bare skin of your back. It’s soothing, incongruent to the feeling of his fingers bruising your hips as you rode him a few hours ago. The sheet sits low, draped across both your hips. He leans down to kiss your shoulder blade, sending a chill all the way down your spine. Peppered kisses warm your blood, making a home between your thighs again.

“If you don’t intend to finish what you’re starting, then stop right now,” you say only half sternly, your cheek smushed to the back of your hand resting against the mattress.

“Honey, have I ever been a quitter?” he smirks, disappearing beneath the sheet.

You let out a loud squeak when his massive hands flip your hips over, pressing your back into the sheets again. He spreads your knees wide to make room for him between your legs and your squeak turns into a deep moan. Your fingers fist into his floppy curls and tug, bringing his eyes to yours, mouth open and chest heaving.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes. He says it again above you, inside you, over and over until your toes curl and you scream it back to him.

You woke up to heavy sheets of rain pounding against the windows. His fingers, his heavy body, his warmth weren’t there. He hadn’t been there for months. Restless sleep and a cold bed had been your companions since then. That day you woke up to 400 text messages and one TMZ report.

Bleary eyed with shaking fingers, you had clicked on the link. Seen the photos. His fingers interwoven with hers. His eyes on the camera. That knowing smirk. He’d wanted them to see. Wanted you to see. He had left for meetings in LA just two days before, a kiss on the forehead and a promise to call.

You’d lost count of how many texts from him you’d deleted without reading. Changed his name to LYING BASTARD after he’d left messages you didn’t listen to. What possible reason could he have given? There couldn’t be an explanation for this. Just because you’d never gone public with your relationship, just because you hadn’t wanted to open up your life to public scrutiny and fandom opinion, didn’t mean that it had meant nothing to you. The handful of your friends who had known were tight-lipped, dead silent to anyone who would have paid them money for information. What you had had with Shawn had been private and you both liked it that way...hadn’t he? Apparently not. It hadn’t been hard for him to throw it away with one clasped hand and a conveniently placed cactus.

The dreams still came almost every night, haunting you with happiness. Looking over at the clock, you groaned. 2:30 AM it blinked green against the darkness. You shifted and stared at the ceiling, counting thunderclaps, begging sleep to take you again. Take you back to a different time, a different dream. Your eyes began to drift.

Boom, boom.

Thunder rang louder than before. The storm was moving closer. But when had the lightning struck?

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

It wasn’t thunder. You wrenched the comforter off of you and scrambled to your feet. Someone was banging on the door. What had been a low and rumbling pattern of knocks at first was now frantic pounding. What in the world? Reaching for a thin cotton robe, you rushed to the front door.

“I’m coming!” you shouted, darting across the living room, “who is–”

You stopped short.

“Baby, please,” he sobbed. Shawn. Surprise mixed with hot rage and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The concoction was numbing, like liquid lidocaine traveling in your bloodstream from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. You didn’t remember getting to the door or gripping the knob, but it swung open anyway.

Shawn Mendes fell into your apartment face first. He tripped over the threshold and into your stiff arms. He must have been leaning on the door frame.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d answer,” he slurred, smelling somewhere between a wet dog and straight tequila. You caught at his shoulders and pushed him up against the entryway wall.

“Shawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” you practically spat at him. Venum pooled in your mouth. It was acrid, all-consuming. It took a minute for the red rage clouding your vision to recede, allowing his face to come into sharp relief.

His cheeks were blotchy, stained with tears. His eyes glassy and unfocused. He was drunk. Drunker than you’d ever seen him. He was also soaking wet. His waterlogged clothes dripped fat drops that splashed on your hardwood floor forming a puddle under his expensive shoes.

“Did you walk here?”

He nodded his head. Well, it was more of a lull to the side if you were being honest.

“How?”

“With my feet,” he slurred again. He lurched off the wall and tried to take a step forward. Instead he pitched forward, wrapping his arms around you and soaking your robe through to the tank top underneath.

“I see you haven’t lost the sarcasm,” the poison you had tasted earlier was quickly replaced with concern. You slithered out from his embrace and let him lean against your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll get you a towel.”

You deposited him on your sofa and he immediately slumped sideways, laying his cheek against the cool leather. Grabbing some fresh towels from the hall closet, you took a second and leaned against the wall before going back to the living room, hidden from Shawn’s line of sight. Not that he’d see me anyway he’s so smashed. What is he doing here? Why here? Why me? Where is his precious famous girlfriend? Why isn’t she picking his drunk ass up off the couch?

The anger flared again but it had lost its bite. He was obviously in some kind of pain, but you weren’t going to get anything out of him like this. You sighed heavily, heading to the kitchen for water and some ibuprofen before returning to the couch.

“Shawn?” You crouched down next to him, reaching out to push a curl back off of his face. He was snoring, a bit of drool coming from the corner of his perfect lips. He was so peaceful.

Snap out of it.

“Shawn, you have to get out of these wet clothes.”

He stirred, opening just one eye to look at you. It took him a minute to reorient.

“How long was I asleep?” He swiped at his mouth and sat up slowly.

“About three minutes. Now get up and strip.” You stood above him expectantly, fighting the urge to tap your toe at him. He fumbled with the buttons on his dark blue silk Oxford shirt. The fabric stuck to every defined muscle in his torso, every cut of his biceps. You counted to thirty before he got one undone.

“You’re going to get hypothermia if you keep that up,” you thrust the towel at him, “how about you dry your hair instead and let me handle the hard stuff?”

He mussed his hair with the towel while you crouched down in front of him, making quick work of his buttons. When the shirt finally hung open, you pushed it back and off his shoulders, revealing what seemed like miles of lightly tanned skin. Dammit. How can he still be so fucking beautiful? You had tried to hate him, tried to block him from your memory, but he always came back. The memories and the feelings and the pain always came back.

You tossed his soaked shirt across the room near the door to the washer. His body sagged forward. His curls were dry, big and frizzed from root to tip, but at least he wasn’t catching a chill. He needed to get horizontal quickly or he was probably going to toss his cookies right here on your white leather couch.

“Shawn,” you tapped at his face to refocus him again, “drink this and take these.” You held out the water and ibuprofen. He took them with no argument. Definitely too drunk. Sober, he would have spouted some bullshit about over-the-counter drugs being bad for your health or toxic for your muscles or something he’d heard From Jocelyne or Cez. You were thankful that you didn’t have to listen to that nonsense tonight. He would thank you in the morning when the headache was dull instead of blinding.

“Now, stand up and strip off the rest of it,” you ordered.

“Naked, eh?” His eyebrow raised at the same time as the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes.

“Throw it over there with your shirt. I think I still have a pair of your boxers hanging around somewhere,” you grumbled, turning your back on him and marching toward the bedroom. The truth was that you knew you had a pair of his boxers because you’d washed them recently after wearing them to bed when you missed him. The dreams always felt more vivid on those nights but you wore them anyway. For the same reason I just invited his drunk ass inside tonight. Because I’m a fucking masochist. You grabbed the boxers, navy and white stripes with little anchors on them, and returned to your living room.

He stood in the center of the room, between the couch and his wet laundry, in nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. His skin was dry finally, flushed where he’d scrubbed at it, glowing in the low city lights trickling through the windows. He was a little dazed and a lot sleepy, inspecting his hands and fingers where they had pruned in the rain. It was like one of your dreams, a memory of what had been. Everything had been such a mess for the months he’d been gone. A gaping hole in your chest had opened and as much as you’d tried to mend, to get over him, he’d left a wound that wouldn’t heal. When he burst through the door, beneath all the anger, it felt like breathing for the first time. Feeling for the first time. He belonged here and you belonged with him.

Then why did he leave?

“Shawn,” his head snapped up, eyes wide, “why are you here?” He grimaced, hearing the pain in your voice. He seemed to be sobering, the bright rosy color in his cheeks was returning to a muted pink. Reaching up to scrub at his damp curls, he cleared his throat.

“I….” his voice was hoarse, “I’m not sure.” You walked over to his pile of wet clothes and tossed them in the washer, keeping silent while he watched you, waiting for a reaction. Or an explosion. The only sounds in the room were the machine filling with water and your padded footsteps back to a safe distance from him. The rain had stopped.

“Well, you’re naked in my living room so you better start fucking figuring it out!” You threw the anchor printed boxers squarely at his chest as the rage came simmering back.

“I missed you, okay?!” He threw his arms wide, sputtering, “I, I was out drinking with the boys and got too drunk and was thinking about how happy I used to be and that happiness was all because of you…” He was looking at you but looking through you at the same time, like he could see all of those memories you’d been dreaming of, like maybe he’d dreamt them too. You shook your head. It didn’t make any sense. He was happy with her. He left you for her. He’s supposed to be with her.

“Don’t lie, I saw the fucking photos, Shawn. Don’t act like I don’t know that smile as well I know my own. You looked pretty fucking pleased with yourself,” you hissed. Images flashed across the back of your eyelids like a slide projector with every swift blink away from his face: her long dark hair fluttering behind her as they walked back to his hotel; his curls fluffed out in weird directions like her fingers had run through them in the car; that fucking bag strapped to his back like the perfect boyfriend. It was the last photo that always sent a wave of nausea, the one of him hanging over the balcony half naked. Whether they’d fucked or not was a moot point, that’s what they wanted people to think. What he wanted me to think.

“You could have picked up the goddamn phone and broken up with me like a civilized person,” you scolded, still unable to look at him.

“IT WASN’T REAL!” He bent over with the force of his confession.

Your head shot up. What?

“What??” A weightless feeling came over you. Looking down, you had to check that your feet were still on the ground. It didn’t make sense. You must have heard him wrong.

“I-I don’t understand,” you stuttered, “I saw it, all of it.”

“Didn’t you read my texts?” He sounded like he was under three feet of water. Your ears were ringing. “I called so many times...I just thought you needed time to get over me not telling you before the pictures leaked but you never called back. None of your friends would answer my messages...” You covered your ears and closed your eyes to block out the sensory overload even though he was still talking. No, no, no. He got caught cheating and he’s trying to backtrack.

But you had heard the rumors, the gossip rags had all printed it. The doubt, the convenience of the timing...but you’d blocked it out because it was too easy to believe and too painful to hope.

Two hands gripped your upper arms and your eyes flew open.

He was right in front of you. Less than three inches. His eyes were so dark, still dilated from the alcohol coursing through his system. He’d put on the boxers you’d thrown at him and ditched the towel. It was everything you had to not pitch forward into his warm chest.

“It was Andrew’s idea.” He hooked a finger underneath your chin and made sure you were looking at him. “There was a meeting, her people, my people, they ambushed me. Said it would be a good idea to promote the single, push my image, deal with the old rumors. I told him I didn’t give a fuck about that old shit but they just kept coming and coming and coming, something about helping her with her album and placating executives who kept asking questions, so I said yes but I fucking told them I had to have notice before they dropped the pictures so I could tell you…” He swiped his thumbs across your cheeks, smearing the wet tears that had fallen while he talked.

“They didn’t wait,” he sighed, “Andrew sold them without telling me. I tried to tell you. All those calls, all those texts, I promise I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”

“But I fucking was, Shawn,” you stepped back and took a deep breath. “You had opportunities to call right after the meeting, before they took the pictures, but you waited. Why? Why did you wait for other people to break my fucking heart?”

“I was an idiot!” he raked his fingers through his knotted, dried curls. “I thought somehow that if I was able to control everything that no one could get hurt. I would tell you, we would keep doing us and I would have things I had to do in front of cameras but it wouldn’t mean anything. We would work on a plan to go public together after it was done. A few months at the most.”

“A few months?! What were we gonna do for months in hiding?! How many times were you going to hurt me, fulfilling some bullshit contractual obligation that you didn’t even discuss with me first?” You stumbled back to your room and he followed. You had to sit down or you were going to be sick. He followed behind, his giant feet sticking to the hardwoods with every step.

At first, the truth had felt like another dream, had made you weightless, but the more you thought about it, maybe this was worse. The idea of seeing him holding someone else’s hand for cameras while he came home to you at night was like a slap in the face.

“I wasn’t going to let them release the pictures before I talked to you first, before I knew it was okay,” he knelt down in front of you, taking your hands between his, “I never wanted to hurt you. Andrew did it anyway. When you wouldn’t return my calls, I just went along with it, all of it, like a zombie shell.” He looked past you, seeing the months you’d been apart. He was haunted too.

“The fans started to notice. Half of them thought it was fake from the beginning, but after awhile they all saw the dark circles, the exhaustion of keeping up the facade. I started losing weight. It was all there for the world to see. I thought about you everyday. I think about you everyday.” He pressed his forehead into your entwined hands. His shoulders shook. It took you a minute to realize that he was crying.

You took your hands from him, dragging your fingers through his curls, full and frizzed out from root to tip. You let him cry for the both of you, for the lost time, for the unfairness of the business he loved so much, for the deception, for all of it. Slowly, his breath evened against the skin of your exposed legs. He needed to sleep. So did you.

“Shawn…” you started, pulling his head up between your hands.

“I fired Andrew.”

You stilled completely, “you what?”

“I fired Andrew.” He said it a second time but it still wasn’t computing. Andrew was family. Andrew was untouchable. Andrew was the one person in Shawn’s life not related by blood that you thought might make it into the family burial plot.

“But, why?” you said, unable to think of anything else eloquent or comforting.

“The last eight months have been some of the worst in my career, in my life,” he took a moment, closing his eyes, calculating what he was about to say. “Last week, I went to him and said I wanted to end the sham relationship, to take control of my life back. He said it wasn’t possible, that we only had a few more months left. But he’d said that before. We only had a few months left before he extended the deal to cover an album release, the holidays, promotional singles...

“I talked to a lawyer. I had to pay a considerable amount of money to get out of all of it, but I’m done. Done with the PR bullshit, done with AGA. The label is still supporting me while I look for new management, but I’m taking a break. I’ve been writing at home, making voice memos, but I gotta figure out what my life looks like when I’m in control because I haven’t been in control for years. Maybe not ever.”

He took a breath and released it, his shoulders visibly relaxing. That was it, the whole truth. Everything made a lot more sense. It didn’t hurt any less, but the broken pain in his eyes when he’d fallen in the door an hour ago was clear. He was independent for the first time in his adult life...and he was terrified.

He yawned. His body was more leaning than kneeling at this point, and your legs were going numb. You moved to stand and he looked up at you, wondering what to do now that he’d cut his heart out and laid it at your feet.

“Come on,” you gestured to the bed, “get on your side.”

You took off your robe and crawled underneath the covers, still rumpled from your earlier dream. There was about three feet between you and Shawn in the king-size bed and you could tell he was trying to keep his distance, turning his back to you and isolating himself to one side. It was a struggle to keep from snorting. You scooted over and curled your arms around his chest. He was massive, but not so massive that you couldn’t be his big spoon.

The night had been such a rollercoaster, so much emotion from the earlier dream to everything that had happened since he pounded on the door, drunk and soaked through. There was so much you wanted to ask, so much you needed to yell at him for, but now that it was quiet, not that he was pressed against you in an embrace like he’d never left, those things felt so far away. You were going to have to think hard when the sun came up. What if I wake up and this was all a dream? You squeezed him one more time to make sure he was still there, tangling your legs with his under the sheets.

“This isn’t forgiveness,” you whispered, relishing the heat that radiated from his back into your chest. He hummed an assent, knowing there was still so much to say and so much to atone for. But for now, just right now, you both slept.

It was the best night of sleep you’d had in months.

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272​  @siennarossi​ @trustfundshawn​ @alone-in-madness​ @harryandmolly​ @thatindiannerdygirl​ @mendesromano​ @fromthicctosticc​ @esoltis280​ @softmendesss​ @sinplisticshawn​ @nedthegay​ @september-lace​ @itrocksmysocks​ @disaster-rose​ @mendesoft​ @luvluvxx​ @i-play-video-games​ @ihearthemcallingforyou​ @gentleshawn​ @kitykatnumber​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl​ @ijustreallylikeshawnokay​ @shhhawnmendes​ @shawnsblue​ @imaginashawnns​ @night-girls-world​ @cherrysruin​ @mariahocker​ @jessybellsworld​ @myangelarcade​ @valedictorian65​

let me know if you want to be added/taken off...I know shawnblr is a different world since the last time I posted anything ❤️

[brucewaynehastoomanykids]

Ideal Night

Request from @ravenfan1242 : "I would love a story where Superboy moves into the tower and Damian is struggling with his feelings for Raven. Con who flirts with everyone thinks Raven is absolutely beautiful but she has such an opposite (he might say frigid) personality. Until she helps him with something deep he struggles with and all of a sudden Damian has competition. And hilarity and make rivalry ensues. But Raven also has strong, hidden feelings for Damian."

_____________________________________

"Chin up, princess, or the crown slips." A voice purred above me.

I mentally groaned as I closed my book and looked up at the boy hovering over me. "You really are just so infuriating, Connor." I say plainly.

Connor only smirked. "Missing something?" He said, pointing next to me.

I looked down to see that my phone had been snatched from my side. I was surprised I hadn't noticed its absence, but then again, it's not like I was very attached to it, and I was a little too invested in my book.

I thought back to what Damian had told me just a few days ago after I had accidentally dumped into him in the hallway leading to my room: he had told me that, when I wanted to be, I wasn't very observant of my surroundings. I had thought he was just being bitter that I had bumped into him, but now I suppose he was right.

Oh, there I go again, thinking about Damian. I think I'm only now starting to fully come to the realization that I have feelings for him. Of course, I can't act on them, Damian obviously seems to feel the complete opposite with his judgemental remarks and slight glares in my direction. Though it will admit, there is something a little off with his inner emotions, like he's struggling to realize something. I try not to pry too much into people's emotions without their permission, but with him, it's sometimes unavoidable. His emotions and thoughts are simply too loud to ignore at times.

But even so, if I could act on my emotions, how would I even do it? I've never felt something like this before, and if I'm being honest, it's a little frightening, because part of me doesn't know how to handle it... which leads me to the question of should I even act on my emotions if that's the case? What if I do and I lose control? Ugh, enough of that now. Just see what Connor wants.

"Can you please explain to me why my phone is gone?" I asked with a cocked brow.

Connor let a small, devious smirk form across his lips as he held said cellular device up and waved it slightly. He leaned his body over the couch, wrapping his arms around me and holding my phone to my face.

"I was just gonna be like 'hey, can I take a picture of you,'" he unlocked my phone to a rather embarrassing photo of me from the day prior. I had fallen asleep reading, my head rested on my palm, mouth slightly ajar as my book seemed to slowly fall from my lap, "But I couldn't wake that cute little face of yours."

I raised an eyebrow once more. "And you couldn't have just taken this photo on your own phone because...?"

"I need a favor and I knew you wouldn't do it unless I blackmailed you." He pulled the phone away and set it in his pocket. "See, I got that picture set to post to social media with just the touch of a button. But if you do me a solid, beautiful, I'll give you both your phone and delete the picture."

Curse Garfield and Jaime for showing him how modern technology works. I couldn't just let this side, I should try to get out of this.

"Or I could just grab my phone from you and delete it myself."

"Ahh, see," he wiggled a finger in my face, "I knew you'd try something like that. Which is why I also have this on my own phone. The same phone that I actually don't have in the Tower at the moment for this particular reason."

I rolled my eyes. I was getting tired of his games. "If I do whatever you want will you please just leave me alone?" This earned me a goofy closed smile and a nod. I sighed. "Well, what is it?"

It was then Connor's face changed from its usual playful expression to a serious one. "I've been living with this nice couple, Jon and Martha Kent, for a while now..." he looked down at the ground, seeming a bit embarrassed of what he was about to say, "I wanted to let them know how thankful I was for them letting me in like I was their own son, so, I planned a dinner... and I, um..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "I kinda told them you were my date."

I sighed, holding the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Sure, I was shocked, but I also remembered who I was talking to, so it wasn't as large as a surprise.

"Why in the world would you tell them that?" I scolded.

"Because I think it should be true." Connor purred.

I rolled my eyes. "Pass. Post the photo if you'd like, and take my phone." I began to pick up my book and continue to read before a hand took it from me, I sent a glare in Connor's direction.

"Oh, come on, Rae, just pretend to be my date if you have to, please!" He pleaded.

I let out a sigh in defeat, seeing that it was obvious I wasn't going to get out of this any time soon. "Fine."

Connor's usual childish grin returned as he began to happily walk away, returning my book to me. "Great! Be ready by 6, babe!"

I cringed at the name, but I couldn't help but admit this dinner is a very kind and humble gesture to his semi-adoptive parents. I had never thought to see Connor this way, honestly. It was a nice side of him to see.

I grabbed my discarded book and began to resume my place in it when I heard the doors to the main area open again. This time, it was Damian, who had seemingly just finished his usual training session, judging by the sweat on his face and the water bottle in hand.

"Superboy seems to be somehow more unbearable than usual today," Damian commented once he had noticed my presence, "as I was leaving the training area, he had this stupid smile on his face as if he had just won all the wealth in the world."

Damian came and sat next to me as I chuckled slightly, setting my book aside, "Well, that's probably because of this stupid favor I'm forced to make for him."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Favor?" His voice laced slightly with anger. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind the sudden temper, but I decided to ignore it.

"To make a semi-long story short, Connor wanted to have dinner with Jon and Martha Kent as a thank you for their kindness towards him this past year, and..." I let out a long sigh, "and I am his date."

Damian's eyes widened for a moment before returning to normal. I could feel his aura shift from it's usual state to something more mellow and... sad? Surely he wasn't actually upset by this, I must be going insane.

"I see," He said plainly, "I hope you enjoy yourself, then." His response came out slow and calculated, and it didn't match the emotion his inner self was feeling. Maybe he had forgotten I was an empath. Either way, my abilities have often made him out to be a bad liar, even though I rarely call him out on it to save the drama. I was about to ask him what was wrong when he walked away without a second glance, his body tense, and his head lowered.

~

The evening came and went. Jonathan and Martha Kent were two of the kindest souls I have ever laid eyes on, I couldn't help but smile in their presence. Though, it was strange to pretend to be interested in Connor, especially when the question 'is this your girlfriend' came up. But, I will admit, I enjoyed myself. I never thought I'd see the day I actually enjoy Connor's company as much as I had tonight, but I suppose even the impossible can happen.

We flew home in silence for a moment before Connor began to speak.

"So... that wasn't too bad, right?" He asked shyly.

I smiled. "No, no it wasn't, I really enjoyed myself."

He let out a breath. "Good, good. Remind me when we land I'll give..."

I looked next to me to see Connor was no longer flying beside me. He had stopped to look at the night sky. Dozens of stars danced and winced at the world below. This high above ground, you could see all the colors the stars had to share. Some green, some blue, white, yellow, and so on. It truly made the night sky a beautiful sight.

Connor let out another sigh. "This is just perfect, y'know? Is this Heaven? 'Cause it feels like Heaven."

I giggled playfully. "I suppose with me here it would make it more like Hell."

He let out a laugh. "Oh, so the 'daughter of darkness' does have a sense of humor. I'm shocked."

I rolled my eyes. "And it is a real shame nobody asked for that opinion." This earned us a shared laugh.

"Listen, Rae..." Connor's voice suddenly became serious, "before we actually head back, there's something I need to tell you..."

I turned my body to face him, giving him a worried expression. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, nothing wrong per se, it's just... the real reason I made you come to this dinner was for you to see that I, um... well I actually have a bit of a crush on ya, babe. I-I mean, I know I flirt around and stuff but there's just somethin' about you..."

I huffed a smile, attempting to lighten his nervousness. "Crushing hard I see..."

"You have no idea... it's just weird, you see. 'Cause, and I mean no offense, honestly, but you're not usually my type to go for a serious relationship. Our personalities are obviously a little more than opposite, but that somehow makes my feelings stronger, I guess..."

I let out a laugh, "Trust me, I'm shy and antisocial at first, but I feel as though I do the stupidest things when I'm around someone I'm comfortable with, I just try to contain it as best as possible for... reasons..."

"In any case..." he grabbed my hand, "I just want it to be you and me against the world, babe. So, do you... maybe, wanna grab a coffee sometime? Y'know... have a real date?"

I let out a sigh, releasing his hand and flowing away from him slightly. "I would, but there are other factors in the way. The first one being... well, there's no easy way to say this without hurting your feelings... I have feelings for someone else."

"But let me ask you this beautiful: do you think you have a chance with me?" Connor looked at me with determined eyes.

"Honestly, Connor, with how you've been acting lately... I do see a relationship with you working... sure you can be annoying and flirty but looking past that side of you, you're very caring and sweet." I smiled.

"Well, then my advice to you is this, Rae: if you love two people at the same time, choose the second because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

I let out a small groan, putting my head between my hands. "That's the thing, Connor. While I am starting to develop some sort of feelings towards you... I don't necessarily love you. And this person... I definitely love..." I turned to face Connor once more, "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression on that regard... but that's not the only factor. The factor of all factors... the reason I can't pursue a relationship with either of you, is who I am. My powers, while can be a blessing and a curse, are too powerful to not be handled with delicately. They are fueled by my emotions... and if I happen to feel too much--"

"Boom..." Connor finished sadly, "Look, I understand, Rae. It's just... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself? Is this something that you want to do? Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

Connor reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone, and deleted the picture before returning it to me.

"Just... think about it, alright?" Connor said, beginning to fly away from me. "I'll meet you back at the tower..."

I watched as his figure disappeared from my eyesight before heading off myself. I felt guilty. I hurt Connor, I know I did, and I couldn't help but feel bad about it. He didn't deserve it... he just wants love, too... though, I couldn't help but wonder if he were right about me having to make the sacrifice for Damian. Though, I decided I shouldn't think about it now, and began focusing on making my way home.

~

When I had arrived back at the tower, it was late at night. Damian seemed to had just returned from his usual nightly patrol around Jump City. He was still in uniform, mask, and everything. He sat on the couch as if he were waiting on my arrival like an angered parent who just caught their child sneaking back into the house. Though, essentially, that was what I was doing. Still, it didn't explain his angered expression.

"What's the matter with you?" I asked quietly, afraid to wake anyone nearby.

"You and Kent seemed to be rather close this evening. Anything you care to share?" He raised an eyebrow through his mask.

"The better question is why the hell where are you stalking us? Wait, how did you even stalk us? Connor would've heard your heartbeat." I furrowed my eyes at him.

He matched my expression. "I kept my distance for that same reason."

His response only really ticked me off more, but I decided it would be better to keep my cool and answer his question. "No, Damian, I have nothing to share with you."

Silence filled the room for a moment before Damian seemed to finally snap.

"Why the hell would you go through with his nonsense, Raven?!" He yelled, standing from his seat and turning his whole body in my direction.

I remained blank-faced, nonetheless. "It's not like he would leave me alone until I agreed anyway, after all, it's people like him that deserve a high five with a chair... but maybe I just wanted to go with him, since when is that such a crime?"

"It is when you don't even like him!"

"Could you refrain from yelling, people are trying to sleep, you know."

"I'm not yelling, I'm discussing with you!"

"Yeah, with a loud voice. That means your yelling... oh, for the love of--just tell me what your problem is, Damian?" I said, putting a hand on my hip.

He lowered his tone. "Nothing's wrong."

"Obviously there is or else you wouldn't have followed us, and you wouldn't be freaking out the way you are."

He let out a loud groan, grabbing strains of hair between his fingers. He paced the room like this for a moment before dramatically bringing his hands down and yelling, "I really like you!" His eyes widened in what seemed to be shocked at himself and his own words then, "Um... I didn't mean to blurt it out like that."

I looked at him with my own sense of shock. "There's no way that's true, Damian." I awkwardly let out a laugh.

Damian sighed and walked up to me, his eyes softened. "No, no, it's true. I've loved you ever since I got to know you, I just hadn't fully realized or accepted it until recently--and even if you don't feel the same, I'm willing to accept that, too. But the truth is, I think about you all the time, and I have these feelings that I still don't quite understand about you, it's freaking annoying, to say the least."

I smirked. "Well, I'd hate to be such an annoyance to you, Damian."

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be sarcastic about it."

I shrugged. "It's recently kind of my thing."

He closed his eyes tight and sighed out a loud 'anyways' before opening his eyes back to their soft state. "I'm obviously not the person you want in your life... but you should know I'll still kill him if he hurts you."

"Yes, you are!" I assured him quickly before he could walk off. "When I was with Connor earlier, I admit, I had a good time, and I got the privilege to see a side of him I never see... but when he admitted his own feelings to me, I turned him down because I simply don't love him, but I do love you."

Damian smiled. It was then I realized how much his aura made sense. He was conflicted over his feelings, and now that he's not? It glows and shines again like nothing ever happened.

He closed his eyes and leaned. I panicked and backed away from him. "Which leads me to the next reason I turned him down... and will more likely be the reason I turn you down: my powers, my abilities... they're uncontrollable if I feel too much. I've been forced to live a life of mellowness all my life, and to suddenly change that now for love? An emotion I still don't quite understand? It's too risky... and I'd never forgive myself if I accidentally hurt you or anyone else with my own emotions."

"Raven," Damain came at me with a soft, reassuring tone, "you tell me you don't understand the feeling, but neither do I. We both need to figure things out for ourselves and who better to do it with than with ourselves. I don't know much about love, or romance, but I do know, from both watching Grayson and my own mother flaunt over my father, that it does demand sacrifices and risks."

It was then I had remembered what Connor told me before he left: "... are you doing this for the protection of me and this mystery guy, or for yourself?"

Both, I decided. I don't want either of them to get hurt because of me, but it's my own fears that cause this want to protect them. Fears of what could happen to me, and my team.

"Is this something that you want to do?"

No, absolutely not. I want to love, I want to feel love and to be in love.

"Because the way I see it, if you really love this guy, you'll make the sacrifice for him."

And so I will, Connor. Thank you.

I looked at Damian once more with a small smile creeping on my face. "Alright, Damian. Let's take a risk."

Damian smiled a rare, almost goofy smile. "Well, if that's the case, I should court you formally:" he cleared his throat, "Do you want to--I mean if you're not busy... go get lunch tomorrow? Or even just coffee this morning, if you want, or--"

I placed a hand over his mouth. "There's no need for courting, but your answer is still a yes," I removed my hand, "and I have a feeling we should kiss now."

And, of course, that's exactly what we did. A few household items began to float above their original place, but we didn't care. In the end, it was an ideal night.

_____________________________________

So I know that this was more Conrae than it was Damirae but whateves I really liked writing this one.

Also sorry for the late updates. For some reason, my Wattpad decided it just wasn't gonna let me write for a few days and I felt like it wasn't fair to post on here and not there. Anyways, just got it working again so we'll see how long this lasts I guess.🤷🏻‍♀️

[buckleyy--diazz]

Untitled Shawn Mendes/Reader [Angst with a happy ending]

It's been a while since I posted anything so here we go! Originally posted on 'babyboyshawny', I deleted blah blah blah you know the drill!

Please enjoy x

°•°•°•°

There's a knock on your door and the last thing you want is to see someone. Your eyes are puffy and red from crying, your hair is starting to feel greasy and you've been wearing the same old sweatpants and bathrobe for the past three days. All you did is watching crappy movies and eat junk food. The break up was your idea but it doesn't mean you're dealing well with it. Not being able to see or talk to Shawn is torture and you miss him so much. You know you took the right decision, you didn't want to be someone’s dirty little secret. His management team wanted him to look available and had asked him to hide your relationship from the public. 

At first you were okay with the idea and understanding but as the months passed it was getting harder to see a new rumor about Shawn being linked to every new popstar every damn week, not being able to see him whenever you want and when you finally had some time together it was always hidden somewhere. It was impossible to go on date, walking down the street holding hands. You talked to Shawn about it and he promised it wouldn't be for long, that he would convince his manager to let you two date publicly but he never did and you finally got enough. You finally found the courage to cut things off with Shawn. 

The person at the door knocks again, you sigh loudly and go to open the door. There is a delivery boy standing in the hallway, holding a big bouquet of all your favorite flowers, when he moves the flowers to give them to you, the judgement in his eyes when he sees in what state you’re in doesn't go unnoticed. 

“Yes?”

“Hi, these are flowers from-”

“I'm pretty sure I know who they're from,” you interrupt the poor boy, but right at this moment you can't even care if you are being rude. You take the little card on top of the bouquet of flowers and read it.

‘I'm sorry, I love you. S.’ 

Can't even sign his name. You feel more and more angered, if Shawn thinks he can win you back with some flowers he's deeply mistaken. 

“I don't want them,” you say and the delivery boy looks confused, it clearly never happened to him before, someone refusing flowers. Everybody loves flowers. 

“But-”

“No but, give them to my neighbor or the first person you'll see in the street, I don't care. I just don't want them.”

The boy is standing there, awkwardly holding the flowers, still hoping you will take them and make his job easier but you give him a little apologetic smile and close the door. As soon as the door is closed you feel yourself starting to shake and your eyes fill with tears. You realise you are still holding the little card and you can't help but reread the words on them. You read them until the letters don't make sense anymore and everything is blurry because of the tears.You let yourself fall against the door and slide to the floor. With your head between your knees you try to catch your breath and stop crying. You tear the card into little pieces and let them fall on the floor. You have no idea how long you stay on the floor, long enough to feel your ass become numb and your neck hurting from the position its in. Getting back up on your feet, you clean up the mess you made and go back to the living room. You fall on the couch and bury yourself under your blanket, falling asleep in a matter of seconds. 

*

Of course the universe seems to be against you because you see Shawn everywhere, every magazine you look at, every time your turn on the tv, every time you open the radio his songs are playing... You have to concentrate very hard to no break down in public every time something reminds you of Shawn. The worst thing is that you have no one to talk to. Shawn had to keep your relationship from the public, but you had to keep it a secret from your friends and family. You told one friend, your best friend since kindergarten. You wish you could talk to her now but she is on her honeymoon, a month in Greece, and who takes a month long honeymoon? Well, your best friend apparently, and for a moment you hate her for having everything you want. It doesn't last, it's not her fault after all. 

You just sit in your car, when you hear your phone vibrating in the front pocket of your purse. You answer without looking at the call id and your breath catch in your throat when you hear Shawn's voice.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, like he doesn't want to scare you, “how are you?”

“Shawn, you can't call me,” you say, ignoring his question. He must know how you feel. 

“I miss you,” he whispers and once again your eyes filled with tears, and it's not the time, you have to get to work and you don't have time to touch up your makeup. 

“Shawn, please stop.”

You reach for the glove compartment and takes the small tissue box out of it. Taking one, you try to pat your eyes dry without smudging your eyeliner.

“I miss you,” he repeats, “I need to see you.”

Breath in, hold, breath out, breath in, hold, breath out, breath in, hold, breath out. 

“No, we can't see each other,” you finally reply. You can't see him because you know the second you lay your eyes on him you will cave in and it took you long enough to end your relationship, there is no way you will go back to him. Not so fast.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, because there is no point in lying, you haven't stopped loving him. 

“Then why did you broke up with me?”

The question angers you because you know he knows the reasons.

“You know exactly why Shawn and until things change, we can't be together. Please just, just don't call me anymore.” 

Not letting him time to say anything else, to say it will change, that he will talk to his team, you hang up and put the phone back in your purse. You look at yourself in the mirror on the back of the sun visor to make sure you still look presentable, and it's a miracle your mascara and eyeliner didn't run down your cheeks. You close the visor and start the car. It will be a long day. 

*

Surprisingly Shawn listened to you and stopped calling. He still send a text message from time to time, asking you how you are doing, telling you he's nervous about an upcoming appearance on a morning TV show or when he sees something that reminds him of you. You never reply, you want to, so bad, but you know you can't let him win you back with pretty words and empty promises. When you were together he promised many times that soon you’d be able to live your relationship openly but it never happens. You still wonder if he really talked to his team if he just said that to appease you, to make you stay. 

Day turns into weeks and weeks into months and you still feel sad sometimes, you're getting better. It's easier to smile and laugh. Shawn stopped texting you a while ago and it hurts at first because you felt like he had finally gave up on winning you back. You know your thoughts are contradictory but deep down you loved when he messaged you random things but it also helped you when he stopped. You realise it's when you started feeling better.  

When you open your tv and see Shawn, which happen all the time since he's back on tour, you don't feel like your heart is breaking, you don't shake and cry anymore. You still love him, with all your heart but you let go of your anger and prefer to remember all the good times you had together. 

*

You wake up from the incessant vibration of your phone on the nightstand. You rub your eyes with the back of your hands and take your phone. It's only 7 a.m. and you have nine missed text from your best friend. Your guts twist, she never message you like that unless there is an emergency and as you swipe your finger across the screen to unlock your phone, you fear for the worst. You open the messages and all you see is eight messages in caps lock and your friend seems very excited about something. It must be important because she never do this.

[6:40] OH. MY. GOD.

[6:43] YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE THIS

[6:47] COME ON WAKE UP!!

[6:47] WAKE UP!

[6:48] WAKE UP!

[6:49] WAKE UP!

[6:53] YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!!!

[6:57] WATCH THIS!!! 

The last message is a YouTube link. You click on it, not too sure about what you're about to look at. The YouTube app open and it's a fan video from Shawn's last show. For a second you almost close it, not sure you want to see whatever happens in this video but you trust your friend and she wouldn't send something that could upset you.

Shawn looks gorgeous, as always, he's wearing his usual tight black jeans and a deep red shirt, his messy curls falling on his forehead and you swallow the thick balls of emotions forming in your throat. You miss playing with his hair while he laid his head on your thighs. He's talking to the crowd and you realise you haven't heard a word he said when you hear the girl holding the phone scream an excited “oh my god”. You start the video again and this time you pay attention to what Shawn is saying instead of just looking at him. 

“The next song is a new one, I wrote it for someone really dear to my heart. Last year I met an incredible woman who made me extremely happy, but I have been an idiot and I let her go. I don't know if she will see this, I hope she does, because I love her with all my heart and I don't want anything to keep us apart. I love you and this song is for you, this is ‘Because I had you’.”

Shawn takes his guitar from behind his back and you start crying at the moment you hear the first notes and the lyrics.

“I think it's time that I be honest Should've told you not to go Thought I knew just what I wanted I didn't know myself at all…”

The video ends and you don't know what to do, you're frozen in place, in the middle of your bed. You can't believe what just happened. Shawn really did that, you don't know if his management team let him do it or if it was his way of telling them to fuck off but either way Shawn did it. He did what you wanted him to do for months. You have to call him, you need to talk to him. He said he hoped you would see this and he said he still loved you. 

You put your phone back on the nightstand, deciding to get dressed before you call Shawn. It will give you the time to get your ideas in order. You're standing in front of your closet, searching for your favorite sweater when there’s a knock on the door. You grab your bathrobe from the chair in the corner of your room and you shiver when your bare feet touch the ceramic tiles in the lobby. You open the door and Shawn is standing there, a small smile on his lips and your heart is suddenly beating so fast you fear it will leap out of your chest. 

“Can I come in?” he asks gently and you move to the side and let him in. The door close behind him and you catch him by the lapel of his coat and crash your lips together, catching him off guard. He puts his warm hands on your hips, under your bathrobe and you sigh. Eventually you break the kiss but you keep your forehead pressed against his, breathing deeply. 

“How did you know I wouldn't close the door in your face at the second I saw you?”

He looks at you and he has a sheepish grin on his face.

“I made sure you saw the video, I sent it to your friend asking her to send it to you. But honestly I don't know how you would react, I just hoped for the best.”

“I can't believe you really did that.”

“My manager is pissed at me but it's worth it if it means I get to have you in my life. He'll get over it, but I can't get over you.”

You’re smiling so much your face is starting to hurt but you just can't stop. You know you will have to talk about it but right now all you want is being close to Shawn. You take him by the hand and dragged him to your bedroom. Talking can wait.

[for-ests]

Always Enough- Peter Parker x Reader

Okay so this imagine was an anon request that I had previously posted, but I accidentally deleted. I didn't mean to, so here’s a re-upload. Happy finals & sorry my dumbass clicked the wrong button on tumblr mobile because im stupid

Summary (bc the request deleted w/ the post): The reader realizes she had been neglecting Peter because she was stressed over school. Peter thinks there might be another reason because she has become distant. Confrontation and angst follows!

Word count: 2, 360

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Finals were a killer, especially for a nursing major like yourself. The stress of it all made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Cry for hours until you couldn't cry no more. 

But that wasn't an option. What you dreamed of becoming, something simple, yet incredibly difficult, was growing out of reach. Your hours of studying had led you nowhere, only to barely tangible grades. Grades that were barely above average. You were disappointed, discouraged, and running out of options.

What else would you do with your life? Becoming a nurse was the only thing you had ever wanted to be, it was all you knew. Ever since aliens rained in the sky, your only motive was to help the ones who couldn't help themselves. But how could you ever hope to do that when you couldn't pass biochem?

What didn't help your anxious mind was the house you had to stress over, and your minimum wage restaurant job that didn't add to your required expertise. Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered you had to lay a payment down on your ever-increasing student loans. Maybe college wasn't for you. Perhaps it was never meant to be. Your summer money was running out and fast.

Just breathe. You repeated. I don't have time to cry.

You could cry after you studied. And right now, you had barely glanced at your flashcards for more than ten minutes. It seemed like you were paralyzed, sitting in bed with your flashcards scattered around you, all of them laid out and waiting for involvement.

Just as you were about to pick up the first card, your phone buzzed beside you. Instinctively, you glanced at it, your heart dropping when you saw Peter's name flash across the screen.

Date. You had a date night, and you forgot.

"Fuck!" You cursed out loud, the tears you had tried so hard to control seeming to burst over your eyelids. How could you forget?

Peter: I'll be there in 15 minutes :D

You replied immediately, glancing at yourself in the phone's reflection. You looked terrible and distraught beyond compare.

Y/N: Peter…im so sorry I forgot, i'm not ready

Peter: oh

Y/N: i have a huge exam soon, maybe its for the best that we rain check? i'm sorry I know ive done this before but im really stressed about it

Peter: we havent talked for days, y/n, i think theres more going on than what youre telling me

Y/N: what? of course not wtf

Peter: im coming over anyways, ill be there soon

Y/N: why?

Peter: we have to talk.

Your heart dropped down to your stomach. Those words were what you had been dreading, and all focus you had managed to gather vanished into thin air. You knew you had been neglecting Peter's affections. Even if every fiber in your being wanted to make him the single most important thing in your life.

It had been almost a week since you'd seen him, and honestly, it was painful in the most innocent way.

But Peter didn't have to worry like you did. He was gifted and already had his entire life ahead of him, set in the middle of Stark industries. But you never asked for a handout, you never asked for help. Even though you knew he was the smartest young man around. You were proud to be his, and the thought of that disappearing was more detrimental to you that failing your upcoming exam.

Y/N: ok, front door is open

Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point. You had been with Peter for over a year and had gone without seeing him for longer, but he was right. This time was different. This was the third date you had canceled without wanting to, but sometimes apologizing wasn't enough. Peter deserved a lengthy explanation of what you were really going through.

You were so used to holding back your emotions, that times like this were an occasional reoccurrence. You had always been so afraid of unloading your burdens onto others that you still sometimes forgot that having a boyfriend came with that perk. He was still going to love and cherish you if you asked for help and advice. Hell, you needed to realize that he wanted to.

That was a factor of why you were so in love with Peter. He always listened, and sometimes, even push the truth out of you when he could tell you needed it.

"You're already crying, huh." A sad smile was on Peter's face as he opened the door. His sudden appearance startled you, and you managed to chuckle despite the circumstances.

"You know me." You sniffled, immediately embarrassed by the state he had caught you in. Instinctively, you brushed your hair to the side and dabbed the tears from under your eyes. You could feel the remnants of Make-up drying to your skin.

"I didn't mean to ruin your study-"

"But we need to talk." You finished, shoving your school supplies to the edge of the bed. You made enough room, so he was able to sit comfortably.

Slightly embarrassed, you kept your gaze averted as best as you could. Just Peter's presence made your heart flutter, and a part of you was trying to prepare for the worst. You might really lose him this time. And for what? Yes, school was incredibly important, so, so important. But so was Peter, and you needed to find a balance.

Your silence was enough to beckon Peter's thoughts into the open.

"I just need to make sure you're still serious… about us." His voice was soft as if it was struggling to stay neutral.

Finally, gaining the courage to look at him, you locked eyes. Peter's gaze was heavy and forthcoming, and it took all of your willpower to swallow the knot in your throat.

"Of course, I am." The conviction was entirely evident in your tone. So much so, that Peter fell silent. His accusations seemed to die in his throat, but he knew that if he didn't get them out now, they would creep back to him later.

"It's hard to tell sometimes," Peter muttered, unable to gaze at your confused expression. You looked so hurt.

Your silence beckoned him to continue.

"I haven't properly talked with you in a week. You've canceled our last three dates… it seems like you never want to hang out with me anymore."

Peter winced. He was a grown man, and he sounded like a child. Yet, he had let so many things slide, hoping you would come around, hoping you would make it up to him. Perhaps he had been selfish to only think of himself in the relationship. He failed to realize that maybe in attempts to please him, you were putting your own future on the line. 

"I know you're going through a lot, but you can't even seem to talk about it." Peter's shoulders felt tense, his eyebrows knitting together in an agitated expression. His leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. He looked like he was about to burst.

"I'm sorry." You said, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. Pausing, you tried to gather your thoughts into cohesive sentences that would soothe his anxious mind.

"There's nobody else, right?" He suddenly blurted, actually turning his head to look at you. Insecurity was glazed in his eyes for the first time.

"Why would you even think that?" You said, startled. The question felt as if he had shoved your head underwater and held it there just long enough for you to choke on the liquid.

His expression was blank for the first time. Vulnerability at its finest. "My life isn't perfect, you know. I overthink just like you. I need reassurance."

Peter was so calm, so calm that it worried you. Though you were already afraid of how this conversation would go, it hurt you to realize that this conversation was the result of your actions. You failed to make Peter feel special like you had promised. Like he had promised you. Relationships go both ways, and for the last couple of weeks, it had only gone one.

"No, Peter. There will never be anyone else."

He sighed, relaxing slightly. "You've been acting weird. I don't really know what to think."

"I told you a billion times, I'm studying. After work, that's literally all I do. And I need to focus."

"I feel like there's more. It feels weird to not see a text from you when I wake up. It feels weird to not hear your voice. I don't… I don't like it, Y/N. Even if that's selfish."

And selfish it was. Peter expected you to be transparent while he was hiding possibly the biggest secret in the world. Maybe that was why he was so worried about how much you loved him. Peter wanted to be honest with you. He wanted you to know he was spider-man, but right now, he still couldn't bring himself to. Perhaps he was looking for a reason.

"I'm sorry." Your hands were clenched in your lap. "I've never had to deal with this before. Everything is so new, even if we've been together for a year. I've never cared about anyone like this, and I can't manage my time."

Peter paused as if every word in this conversation pained him to no end. His eyes were glossy, his mind unclear. He was desperately trying to understand why you were isolating himself. "You can't make any time for me?"

"That's the thing, I can't focus on anything else when I'm with you." Your lip quivered. "And that's a problem."

"It's not for me." He said quickly. "I make time for you, and you don't for me. And you need to tell me why."

You glanced away, embarrassed. No matter what you said, the reason wouldn't be good enough. You were just a bad girlfriend.

Peter reached his hand out and pulled you to him. You rested your chin upon his shoulder, soothed to feel his warmth once again. "You need to tell me, Y/N. We've made it work for this long, and all of a sudden, it stopped."

Your body started to shake. Trying to muffle your sob, you brought your hand to your mouth. It was all too much.

"-You have your whole life together, Peter. I have nothing, I still have to work for it. I'm not as smart as you, I'm-"and that's when the tears started to flow. It was a literal flood, tear after tear poured over your eyelids until they were bloodshot, until pressure pounded through your head.

Before you could finish, your face was pressed against Peter's chest. He held you tightly, his sweatshirt dabbing up your tears of sorrow. You gripped tightly to him, releasing the stress that had been building up inside of you for the last two weeks.

He did not know what else to do. Showing you that he loved you seemed like the most viable option. Sometimes all you had to do was listen, and that was enough.

"I got a bad grade on my midterm exam, one that I didn't study for because I spent my time with you—I thought-"

"Shh." He stroked your hair, understanding what you meant without a complete explanation.

"I work so hard, and it's never enough-"

"It's always enough, Y/N."

"I got so caught up in it that I neglected you in the process. So much so that you thought I was cheating on you" you inhaled sharply, whimpering against him, so many different emotions swirling through your mind. "You're the best thing in my life, and I put you second…"

"Look at me, Y/N." He cupped your cheeks in a swift movement, forcing you to look at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are enough for me. That's why I bothered to have this conversation with you. That's why I care." He pressed his lips against your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, Peter." You tilted your head up to kiss him wholly on the lips. You were a mess, but Peter had always told you that you looked beautiful when you cried.

"Rosy cheeks." He whispered, patting down your hair, inhaling your scent, and appreciating the beauty you constantly radiated.

You chuckled, sniffling loudly. Peter always said that after you had a successful mental break down, your cheeks brandished a rosy shade.

"Shut up." You whispered, tightening your grip around his torso. His back fell against your bed, and you shifted to lay completely on top of him. The firmness of his chest underneath you caused instant relaxation, instant relief. Maybe, just maybe, being in his presence was enough to get rid of the stress from everyday life.

The corners of your eyes were raw and red, yet it complimented your shade. Peter vowed from the moment he had met you, that he would never let any harm come to you. The last thing Peter had ever expected was that he might be the reason, instead of the world.

At least, for now, he had the power to fix it. You were the love of his life, and he had never felt so gratified to be in anyone else's presence.

Peter's fingers traced light, small circles on your back. He could hear your heartbeat slow. The softness of your finger against his was enough to help him close his eyes.

He was at peace, real peace for the first time in weeks.

"We need to remind ourselves to talk about shit more." You mumbled sleepy, almost inaudible. "So this doesn't happen again, because I hate it."

"Me too, babe." He whispered, content with watching you rise and fall in sync with his breathing.

"I couldn't bear to lose you."

[moonttaeil]

not related but, I want to know how each story of the frathouse series was born

oh well, this is going to be one long answer and I'm sorry in advance. also, spoilers down below!!

to be completely honest, each story was born from different little things in life. so, the first one I wrote was johnny’s story, and being completely hones I think that’s the only story that fits the “college au” at its finest. of course the hidden message of having personal interests and maybe using people in order to achieve them is there, but I think that story is not as deep as others can be, you know? johnny’s plot is heavily inspired on my own experiences on campus (lmao not all calm down) but yeah, I came up with the plot because I've lived that too. 

then, the second one I wrote was the bro? hmm, I just wanted to write a fluffy best friends to lovers but yeah, don’t forget that I don’t know how to write fluff! yay! the plot of it came out of pure angst and I don’t know, I just made them sad for no reason lmao. the display of love on that fic is just-- pure. like, neither of them knows what love really is because what they feel for one another has been there inside of them all of their lives, and the moment they separate because of college it’s like a break up but without being a break up, so they’re brokenhearted without knowing it. I think it’s a really cute story that can show you that love does not always come with the “I love you” and “will you be my girlfriend”, it can be the “have you eaten today?” that haechan asks Y/N when he sees her studying, or the “please, study you dumbs” Y/N repeats to him every time. 

the third one was the trust fund baby, now I have a lot of contradictory emotions with this one. I started it off with a clear idea in mind, and as I was writing it I saw that the story that I had written had nothing to do with the idea I initially had. that’s something that happens to me a lot, I get an idea and then I don’t realize how changed the whole story is on the document. but anyways, I started Doyoung’s story thinking that’d it would be a hot steamy 15k fic on how a rich kid feels attracted to someone who is not from his social circle, but oh well! now you have an almost 50k story on how a person’s childhood can deeply affect on how their relationships develop when they get older! the story was born trying to be smut, and ended being an existencial crisis for me, tbh. also the second part I got the idea while showering, why don’t I give this mf a child? let’s do it. the crazier the plot twist, the more I want to write it. 

I don’t know if I wrote the shadow next, but my initial idea for mark was to make it like a mysterious boy who doesn't really talk about his private life nor does he socialize with people a lot, but then I thought: he’s in a fucking fraternity he has to socialize!! but the main idea of the plot (Y/N being unable to write) was because I felt that way at that moment. Y/N is literally me because I had literally zero inspiration to write, so I said to myself, just sit there and write just exactly that. how can you help yourself? you just gotta write, that’s the only way to beat the writer’s block. also all of the myths and the books they talk about I read while writing the story too, so everything came together really nicely!!. 

the jerk has given me: HEADACHE. I had an initial idea which was the accident and yeah, all that. but once I wrote the first part of the fic, like after the accident and when Y/N wakes up I was like: what the hell do I do now. I think I rewrote that story like two times. the the jerk was born out of HATE for the plot because I had no idea on how to make it move but I really liked it, you know? the plot itself came to my mind because someone I know had an accident a while ago, and she was a pianist and she had broken her wrist, so yeah-- a lot of crying during that time of my life, but I thought it was a great way to show that someone can recover from anything if they’re strong enough mentally. 

next was the heartbreaker: pianist taeyong will forever have my heart. I came with the plot because recently I listened to a lot of classical music, and I really wanted to write something SAD. like really SAD. like TEARS EVERYWHERE. So I thought what’s the best way on making someone sad? make the protagonist someone who has suffered a lot in another time of their lives: aka taeyong lost the love of his life and he has clearly not recovered from it. that’s the plot of the heartbreaker: pure and utter sadness. im so sorry. 

aaaaaan the Einstein. I have changed the plot for this fic so many times I've lost count. I knew what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know HOW to do it. I remember I deleted a howl 11k archive because I THOUGHT I WAS BORING. And boom it was gone. I felt really sad because it had been a long time since I last updated something, so I really feel like the fact that I felt pressured to write the Einstein was the reason why NOTHING GOOD CAME OUT. So I just deleted it, and said to myself Nikki: calm the fuck down. you just need a good story with a greater plot twist. the next day I woke up with a revelation: boom the Einstein and its 24k words were written in less than 48 hours!

[fandom-necromancer]

162/907 - anniversary special

This continuation is kind of cheating because @aurea-b prompted it after part 5 and I didn’t really forgot but still never wrote it. Well, now I have, I hope you like it!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

[part 1]   [part2]   [part3]   [part4]   [part5]

Since he had told Gavin his feelings and Nines updated Gavin’s status to boyfriend, two things had changed. One, they had become more physical in their interactions. Two, Nines spend a lot of time researching how to be physical properly. As a machine built for war, he was too hard, too rigid and had far too much power to be comfortable or soft. Hugging his human either ended up in just resting his arms on him or near crushing his bones. They practised a lot, but realising just how the human enjoyed contact, he wanted to surprise him

Cuddling on the couch worked well. Nines had understood it was more a passive display of affection than an actual decision and just going through the motions Gavin showed him and experimenting a bit with what he had seen in others was enough to get the hang of it.

Hugs still were a challenge. The pressure used was something very important and depending on social situations. There had to be a standard hug used for everyday life, but when Gavin hadn’t seen him for a while, they tended to be stronger. The same applied for when he was excited, relieved or wanted to put a special emphasis on the action. Too many parameters were involved, one being a rough understanding of the emotional atmosphere. His social module was good enough to work with, but it definitely wasn’t advanced enough for these decisions. He had learned he was good at comforting hugs though, but that was mainly because Gavin knew how to communicate with him. Whenever he was frustrated, sad or just bored, he came to him requesting a high, medium or low-pressure hug. Nines realised he liked these ones best.

But there was one thing they hadn’t gotten to yet: kissing. Somehow Nines wanted their first kiss to be perfect already. He knew it was unlikely, but if he didn’t manage perfect, then maybe at least not terrible. It was difficult to practise, but maybe if he just researched it enough the actual thing wouldn’t be that bad?

It took him weeks of nervousness to finally feel well prepared enough. Then it was a matter of finding the best moment to do it. Nines was sure now to be exactly that: They were at Gavin’s home, sitting on the couch just as the movie they had watched had ended and the credits rolled down to slow music. Neither of them wanted to move just yet, too comfortable in their positions. Gavin leaned against him with Nines leaving his arm resting on his shoulders, gently brushing his shoulder with his fingers. The blanket between Gavin’s sensitive side and Nines’ hard metal-enforced ribcage adding to the cosiness. If that wasn’t the right moment it would never come, the android decided and remembered his research.

[Drop hints you’re interested.] That included keeping his lips softly parted and getting caught looking at Gavin’s lips. Nines would have said his execution was flawless. Except that Gavin didn’t see it. He had his eyes closed and was sitting huddled into his side. [Mission failed] Nines was quick to delete his initial reaction. Just a set-back, not a failure entirely.

[Break the kiss barrier] He had to plant a two to three second kiss on a sensible part that wasn’t the mouth, most mentioned places: hands, cheek, head. He went with the top of Gavin’s head, as any other part of his head wasn’t really reachable naturally. He tried to keep his lips soft, as much as that was possible with plastic only flexible enough to imitate lip movements when speaking. It was a quick light kiss that should work with every direction the internet could give him. Now it was to watch for Gavin’s reaction, who- Who grumbled slightly, scratching the spot Nines had just kissed. Nines felt emotion flaring up he could only describe as a combination of sudden anger, frustration and desperation, as another [mission failed] came up.

He shook his head. That was fine, there was still a way this could work. [Set the mood with a compliment.] That would work surely. Nines was good with words. That was what Gavin had helped him with and what had won the man over. Words were easy. Or at least easier. Nines squeezed Gavin closer with his arm, converting cuddling into a hug, low-pressure. Then he mumbled: ‘I’m so lucky to be with you right here right now.’ That brought a smile to Gavin’s face. Honest happiness. So far so good. ‘Hmm, me too.’ [mission failed.] That- that couldn’t be! He had done all he could have done according to his research. Why didn’t it work? It should have!

He mulled it over and could only decide that his source material had to be faulty. If it didn’t work, clearly he had to have picked the wrong sites. Or maybe you needed human instincts for this, who knew. Regardless, Nines was utterly frustrated now but stubborn enough not to let weeks of research go to waste. Gavin liked him for being himself, right? He had said so himself. Maybe perfect simply didn’t work with the man.

So, he scrapped all of his research and deleted it permanently, before simply moving out of his position and leaning down to press his lips on Gavin’s. Immediately he pulled back again, waiting for the last [mission failure] pop up. Maybe he just wasn’t made for this. Gavin was looking at him, fully awake and blushing, while Nines still waited for a reaction he could understand. Then the man grinned. ‘Not like this, babe’, he chuckled, taking his hand. ‘Should I show you how to kiss properly?’ Yes! ‘If you want to.’ Gavin leaned in to push his mouth on his almost expertly. So many sensations and emotions flooded his systems that it was difficult to concentrate on technique and before he got used to it, Gavin pulled away. ‘Now you!’ Nines regretted deleting all his research completely in a fit of anger instead of just pushing it aside for comparing. But he did as Gavin said and dove in. It was… slightly worse.

But the man just laughed. ‘Oh, god, you are such a bad kisser, Nines.’ The android huffed out a heated breath. ‘I can’t be perfect when I only just begun!’ ‘I know, I know’, he said quickly. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure!’ Gavin pulled him down again, smiling at him completely lovelorn. ‘Besides I’m looking forward to practising this with you already.’

Maybe not being perfect had its perks, then.

[romewritingshop]

Wake up Parker! - Chapter 3: Meeting Independence

Relationship: Peter Parker x Tall Older Reader (Peter is 22 and Reader is 26/27)

Warnings: Mention of sex

Word Count Total: 2136 (This Chapter)

Summary: Peter Parker is a student in the city of Brooklyn. He’s lazy, spoilt and he procrastinates a lot. He meets a woman named (Y/N), She’s recently moved to Brooklyn for an independent life. Something Peter is fascinated by. Over the course of a few months, Peter needs to realise that he has to grow up and become responsible for his life.

Tagged: @bggerbtch​

WAKE UP PARKER! MASTERLIST

The party was a slow disappointment. There were ridiculous decorations of silver streamers and gold balloons. Most of the people were partying and dancing to some old songs from 2005. This was not a college party, it was a snooze fest. Even the sign was sad: Class of 2019. It’s lights flickered and told Peter that he wasted his time. Peter held his camera and took various photos. He got a really good one of Wanda’s grumpy face. Wanda was trying to micromanage the party and it was not going her way. She stood on the stage with a childish pout as her opportunity to do a speech was thwarted.

Michelle came and left because she had to work the next day. Peter shook his head at the serious Michelle. All people talked about was what they were going to do now that college was finished. One was training to be in the Brooklyn Police Department. Another was going to try their hand at Miss America. Peter rolled his eyes at the talk of the future. Why bother? Peter always focused on the present because it was a headache to worry about what to do next. The present has so much to offer. Peter watched a sickening exchange between Ned and Betty. He was trying to sweet talk Betty into staying longer and Betty walked off. Both of them were wearing matching T-Shirts with love written on them.

Peter stepped out of the party hall and into the corridor. He noticed a girl sat in the doorway of the building entrance. Her hair was shielding Peter’s view and Peter held his camera and watched the girl through the lens. Slowly turning around and approaching the girl from the front. She was writing down something in a diary.

Peter took a picture and the light flashed. Peter cursed inside, having forgotten that he left the flash on. The girl glanced up and gave Peter a clear view of her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her nose was scrunched slightly, poking at Peter. Her diary had disappeared into a bag beside her.

“Hey! I don’t remember giving permission for a photo.”

“I’m sorry, it looked like a good picture moment.”

“Well don’t. It’s a little creepy.”

Peter turned his camera to show the girl that he deleted the photo.

“I’m sorry. I’ve deleted it. But, you look really nice in the photo.”

“Maybe some other time.”

The girl gave a nod and Peter sat down next to her. The girl was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a cream coloured camisole under a dark black open shirt. She had a black and red shoulder bag over her right shoulder and a light denim jacket. She did not look like a student from their college. Peter would have recognised her.

“You're not from my college, are you?”

“Sorry but no.”

“Thought as much. You look a little older than this crowd.”

The girl smiled and shook her head at this boy. Parties weren’t really her scene but she was dragged to come along. She managed to sneak out and sit here, get some writing done. Until this boy decided to join her. She knew the boy wasn’t trying to sound rude about her.

“Thanks for the compliment! Only a little older I hope.”

Peter gave a nod and wondered why she was here.

“So what are you doing at this party?”

“I came along with some girls earlier. This girl Wanda, she's one of the organizers and -”

Peter’s face creased up at the mention of Wanda. Always being everywhere as he stood up.

“Wanda! You came here with Wanda!?”

The girl frowned as she stood up. She was a couple of inches taller than the boy. What was so wrong with Wanda?

“Yeah. Anything wrong with that?”

“Oh man, if she sees you with me, she'll -”

Peter turned back to see Wanda with two red cups. Her eyes darted between Peter and her friend. Peter of all people had to be with (Y/N). She scoffed and strutted away from Peter. Peter sighed, while (Y/N) watched this hateful exchange. How bad was this boy that Wanda wouldn’t even give (Y/N) a drink.

“Ok, so you want to explain what that was?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t done anything. She's the one with the problem. Anyways, you’re in better hands. My company is way better than hers.”

“Is that so?”

“Totally!”

“We’ll see about that.”

The both of them headed back into the party to grab a drink since (Y/N)’s drink disappeared with an angry Wanda. The pair of them were by the punch bowl as (Y/N) poured herself and Peter some fruit punch.

“So, Mr. Photographer what do you do?”

“Me? I shop. Play video games. Spend my adopted dad's money.”

(Y/N) shakes her head at this simple answer.

“I mean what do you plan on doing after college? Unless you’ve still got another few years to go.”

“Oh! No, this is my last year. I plan on playing video games and spending my adopted dad's money. What about you? What do you do?”

“Well, for the moment I'm new to New York. I’m here to earn my own money.”

“Oh? How are you liking New York so far?”

“Actually I haven't seen much yet. I got off the plane and rested in Wanda’s apartment before she brought me here.”

Peter frowned. This girl came from far, just to attend this party. He knew Wanda was boring but he never knew that she would be a disappointment as well.

“Wait a minute. You got here today! And of all the places you could have gone to, you came to this boring college party?”

(Y/N) smiled and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

“I know it is disappointing. I didn’t have a choice to sleep.”

“I thought Wanda was your friend.”

“She is. I wasn’t that jet lagged and there wasn’t much to do. Also it feels a little too late to go anywhere else.”

Peter huffed a laugh. Honestly, where was this girl from? Did she know she was in New York? The city that never sleeps!

“Well, Miss Alien, you’re in Brooklyn, New York. It's never late here. It’s the city that never sleeps. And I’ll tell you the city is at its best at night. It’s more alive and vibrant. You should have been exploring out there right now.”

(Y/N) shoves Peter’s shoulder playfully. 

“I’m not an alien! And you think you’re such an expert in Brooklyn, let's go for a walk, then.”

"A walk?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Now. What better way than now?"

Peter shrugged and agreed simply walking forward. (Y/N) was about to follow when she realised what was going on. She, a lone girl, was about to go to a random place with this male stranger. Surely the boy might have ulterior motives. Nonetheless (Y/N) had a need to clear the air. They were just in the corridor outside the party hall when (Y/N) stopped Peter. 

"One second, hold on. Just so we're clear, we are just going on a walk."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. That's literally all they were going to do. Unless she had bright ideas. 

"Just a walk, unless you have a better idea."

"Actually, I just don't want to give you the wrong idea."

"But it was your idea."

Honestly why was this girl backing out? Whereas (Y/N) shook her head at the naivety of this boy. Did he really not understand where she was going with this?

"I know, but I don't even know you and -"

"I don't know you either. But let's change that: Hi, I'm Peter Parker."

Peter held out his hand to the girl and she grabbed his hand and shook it. Both noted that the other had really soft warm hands.

"(Y/N) (L/N). Just so we're clear, Peter. We are just going on a walk. I'm not going to sleep with you."

Peter's eyes widened at this proclamation. It had not even crossed Peter's mind and here was (Y/N) trying to insinuate Peter had bad intentions. He really didn't.

"Whoa! When did I say that I wanted to sleep with you? It didn't even cross my mind."

(Y/N) shook her head in disbelief. She really did choose the dumbest guy.

"Oh come on, be honest. You meet a girl at a party, sweet talk her and you're leaving with her in five minutes. Of course it crossed your mind!"

"Honestly, it didn't. But I get where you're coming from (Y/N). I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

(Y/N) states cautiously at Peter. So far he hasn't been a complete douche or pervert. Apart from the photo thing; but he was polite in that situation. So she's willing to give him a chance. Plus he's got that sweet innocent look on his face that makes (Y/N) want to trust him. Peter is one of the first guys, in her life, she hasn't had a first bad impression.

"Okay then. Lead the way, Peter."

Peter smiled and he led (Y/N) out of the party hall and onto the street. It was a little quiet but a few turns and they were near the Brooklyn Borough Hall. It was peaceful and beautiful. The weather was a nice warmth with an occasional cool breeze. (Y/N) absorbed the scenery as couples strolled by and joggers were walking their dogs. (Y/N) felt she had made the right decision. Peter, however, was concerned for (Y/N) as she talked about herself.

"Really? You don't have any friends here? Family?"

"No."

"A job?"

"Not yet."

"Did you run away from home?"

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh at Peter's confusion. Peter was stunned by (Y/N)'s free spirit. How could she be in a big city alone and without a job? Peter could not get his head around it.

"Why Brooklyn?"

"To meet you!"

"Serious (Y/N). Why come to Brooklyn?"

"Seriously, I just want to be independent. I'm from a small town, Peter. I've lived there all my life. I wanted to give my life a new direction, so I came here. To try something new."

"Like a holiday?"

"No Peter. Not like a holiday ... like ... life! Just trying and exploring new things. Looking after yourself. Cooking your own food; making and spending your own hard earned money; to love a life you've made for yourself? A feeling of independence and accomplishment. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Peter honestly drew a blank. He had no clue what (Y/N) was on about. It sounded like a lot of hard work and Peter felt a little glad that he had Mr and Mrs. Stark with him. (Y/N) noticed the blank expression on Peter's face. He was a little young as Peter expressed his concerns.

"What are you going to do for work then?"

(Y/N) reached into her bag and pulled out a magazine with a picture of a male model jogging in a park. It had 'Brooklyn Nights' in a funky graffiti style across the top. She handed it to Peter.

"Do you know this magazine?"

"Brooklyn Nights. Of course! It has great photographs!"

"And strong articles too. I'm going to their office in a few days, for an interview."

Peter remembered that she was writing in a small diary.

"Ah, of course! That diary at the party. You're a writer, aren't you?"

"Well, not professionally. But soon, I hope."

(Y/N) loved writing. Sure it could be a nightmare but once, she had an idea, she would get a lot of work done. All this time walking and talking, she realised she hasn't found out much about Brooklyn.

"So Peter, the expert of Brooklyn, tell me something about the place."

Peter completely forgot he was showing (Y/N) around Brooklyn. Her words of independence struck a deep resonance within him. He didn't understand what she was saying yet it had the most impact on Peter's mind. He noticed a bright smile on her face when she talked about being independent. Peter wanted to know more but he had to focus on the task at hand. The tour.

"Depends on what would you like to know?"

"If there was one place in Brooklyn, you could show me tonight, what would that be?"

Peter thought hard before finally coming up with the best place. Peter always came there for photographs and thinking time. It's been a while since Peter's gone there. It was the perfect place for (Y/N) to experience Peter's heart of Brooklyn. He flagged down a taxi which was passing on the road to the left of them.

"I've got one place, which really sums up Brooklyn and New York."

The both of them got into the cab and Peter gave directions for Empire Fulton Ferry Park.

CHAPTER 4: FIRST FRIEND IN BROOKLYN

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Can you pick 3 Bill characters and describe their first big fight with their significant other? Please👯‍♂️💃🏽🦊🐨🐩

Mark

Mark: what are you doing?

Mark: where are you?

Mark: you’re really gonna play games and ignore me? Fine. Game on.

2 hours later

Jen: you are so crazy baby! I was taking a nap and my phone died. What you doing?

Jen: Mark! My lover bear? Where is you?

Jen: ok you taught me my lesson, I miss you. Talk to me

Mark: ...

Jen: what’s that supposed to mean?

Mark: you need a new boyfriend girl. I just sucked your mans dick and he never said anything about you so just thought I’d give you a heads up. He In the bathroom so I’m gonna delete this message cuz I ain’t trying to have him beat my ass.

Jen felt as though she’d been slapped in the face. She didn’t know what to do. She felt angry, confused, helpless, but mostly she just felt sad. How could he? Everything had been going so great! She takes a nap and all of a sudden he’s getting his dick sucked.

Just then her phone dinged.

Mark: ugh. Sorry baby, I went over to Matt’s house and Lily was there, being a fucking brat.

Jen: fuck you, you fucking fuck! I hope it was worth it. I’ll NEVER touch you again so long as I live

Jen: I’m blocking your number and social media. Goodbye

Mark: wtf??????!!!!!!

Jen blocked his number in her phone, and then went on every app she had and blocked him there as well. Just as she was trying to figure out blocking him on Pinterest, the doorbell rang.

She tried to remember if she locked the door, but soon found the answer when she heard the door burst open, and heard someone marching up the stairs. Her bedroom door flew open revealing a very pissed off Mark.

She was a tad self conscious sitting there in her yoga pants, and his t shirt he’d left over there. Her face was all puffy and she had tears and boogers down her face. As soon as he realized this, his face grew confused and full of concern.

He stood there a moment, unsure of what to do. He’d been expecting another guy there or her just being a bitch, but he’d never have guessed he’d be met with such a pitiful sight.

“Baby,” he said softly, “why are you like this? What’s wrong baby girl?”

“I-I” she couldn’t get words out, so she hid her face in her pillow and cried. Body shaking from her hysterical crying, she felt a light touch on her shoulder, and she saw RED. Snapping her head up and meeting his concerned eyes, she screamed, “DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO SO! YOU GAVE UP THAT RIGHT WHEN WHATEVER WHORE YOU WERE WITH PUT YOUR FUCKING NASTY DICK, IN HER DIRTY MOUTH!”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOURE MOUTH IS THE ONLY MOUTH MY DICK HAS BEEN IN SINCE I MET YOU!” He screamed back, startling Jen.

“You can’t even be honest. The girl texted me from your phone for fucks sake.” She wailed, throwing her phone at him.

Mark caught the phone, with the most befuddled look on his face. He looked down at the phone and read thru the messages. He pulled his phone out and looked at it, racking his brain how this happened. Then she could see it dawn on him. He was so easy to read and it made her more sad for some reason.

“Baby listen, I think my ex did this. Let me prove it, give me a chance. Please?” He pleaded.

Jen thought it over, but she knew she loved Mark and this actually was a perfect way to get rid of his ex completely. She made up her mind. “I believe you but there’s a condition.”

“Name it.”

“Block her on everything and never speak to her again.”

“Done.” He said as he started to go through his phone.

Henry Pearl

All day she’d been moody. There really wasn’t any good reason for it either. In the beginning, he’d found her hissy fits and sassy attitude endearing, but it was starting to lose some of its charm. He still tried to let it slide, and just avoid her as much as possible, without seeming rude until she went too far.

“Baby, I’m gonna go run to the store. You need anything?” Henry called upstairs since she had refused to leave their room.

“A new boyfriend would be nice,” she yelled down to him.

That was it for Henry, and he flew up the stairs, and burst through the door, startling her so bad she dropped her phone. She looked down at the phone, and then shot an accusing glare at Henry. “You’re lucky it’s not broken.” She sneered.

“Or what? What the fuck is your problem?” Henry spit at her.

She looked stunned a moment, but quickly recovered and resumed her unpleasant glare, “someone is feeling touchy.”

“You can’t just treat me like shit all fucking day, for no god damn reason and expect me to just take it. I’m sick of it, and I don’t understand what you have to be mad about all the time.”

She rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom.

Henry stood there a moment waiting for her to come back out, but when he heard the shower start he knew what he had to do.

Henry had been doing a lot of soul searching lately, and had come to the conclusion that he didn’t love his girlfriend. He had been impressed with her beauty and allowed her to treat him poorly because his low self esteem. She didn’t respect him, and at first he accepted it because he didn’t think he deserved any. He’d been so flattered, this gorgeous woman that men ogled over, found him appealing, he’d overlooked little things like respect and personality.

He grabbed his suitcase and began packing his things. She took forever to get ready, so he had time. He was now relieved he had been “stuck” with his apartment, when they wouldn’t allow him to break the lease last month. Luckily, he hadn’t moved much more than clothing and toiletries over. He’d leave them behind, rather than go in that bathroom, and see her naked and lose his resolve.

He got out a notebook and wrote her a note, so she was aware what was up. It said the following;

You’ll have to forgive me for not finding you a guy to replace me, but I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble. You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen after all.

I just can’t fucking stand you.

I got my stuff. If there’s anything else, donate it or burn it. I don’t care. There’s nothing I own, worth hearing your mouth again over.

Henry

To his surprise she called several times, and even came pounding on his door. He finally opened it late one night, more for fear of her waking his neighbors, than actually wanting to see her.

When he opened the door, he was taken aback by how bad she looked. Her eyes were red and swollen with eye make up running. Her hair was in a messy bun that wasn’t messy on purpose. Her clothes were rumpled and most likely a few days old. She never went out looking less than immaculate, so her appearance was startling.

She looked up at him pitifully and sniffed her nose, as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m gross. I miss you, but I’m gross.”

Henry looked at her for a moment, and couldn’t help but wrap her in his arms and kiss her hair, as he pulled her inside. He shooshed her, as she started to protest, claiming she was gross and ugly and she only wanted to see him one more time.

He looked down at her Tear stained face, and disheveled appearance and smiled warmly when their eyes met. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked as beautiful as you do right now.”

Mickey

“Babe! Where are my new sunglasses?” Mickey yells through their apartment.

“In the car in the glove box!” His girlfriend yells back.

“Ok thank you! Where are my cigarettes?” He added.

“On the counter.”

Mickey looks but can’t find them. “I don’t see them.”

She marches out and moves the car keys, which weren’t even hiding the cigs, “I swear you’re blind.”

He smiles sheepishly, and shrugs his shoulders. She rolls her eyes and goes back to the bedroom.

“Baby? Where’s my lighter?” Mickey asks after looking all over the counter, even moving stuff.

“Out on the balcony.”

“Ok.” Mickey responds as he goes out and smokes a cig. He comes back in and can’t find his keys. “Babe where did you put my keys?”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!!! ARE YOU SERUOUSLY THIS STUPID?” She explodes.

Mickey stands there stunned. He can’t believe she said that. Shock quickly turns to anger. “You know what? FUCK YOU! Give me my keys, so I can leave!”

“Find your own fucking keys and then I don’t care what you do!”

Mickey storms into bedroom. “You don’t care? You don’t care what I do now?”

“Nope” she states, popping the p, and turning her back to him.

“You sure you don’t care?” He growls in her ear, as he wraps his arms around her and grinds up against her.

In spite of herself, she releases a moan, “I thought you were leaving?” She whimpers.

“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, but first I think I need to fuck you stupid...”

“Is that your excuse?”

Mickey stills and then picks her up and tosses her on the bed. “You sure got a bad mouth. Good thing I know just what to put in it.”