#and angst i dunno just thought it was cool

[stickfigurebrainrot]

I'll become the monster

first time trying to do a full piece on ibis paint x and tbh I miss the brushes I had on clip studio paint.

[hannieehaee]

BAD HABIT

18+ / mdi

summary: hiding his secret crush on you was already hard enough for jungkook, and after getting bit by a spider, he'd now have the grueling task of hiding his brand-new superhero identity from you.

content: spiderman!jungkook, f2l!jungkook, based on mcu's spiderman and is supposed to take place during/after civil war but with an aged up spiderman, college-aged Jungkook and reader, picture tattoo-less 2019 jungkook, pining, slow burn-ish, afab reader, smut, dry humping, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.4k

a/n: despite the spiderman aspect of it, this is just a cute little love story between two besties there's no angst or action here lol sorry</3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

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"Oh my God, did you see what he did last night?", you excitedly shoved your phone in Jungkook's direction, showing him yet another news article detailing Spiderman's newest act of bravery.

"What, did he stop another bank robbery?", Jungkook showed disinterest in your interruption, continuing to pay attention to what was playing on the TV.

"Okay, booo! Why are you so lame about him? He's so cool," you complained, setting your back against the couch again with a frown.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Just don't see what the big deal is about him. There's cooler superheroes out there."

With the light from the TV shinning on the two of you, you allowed the content from the movie to consume you for a bit before arguing back. You always argued back when it came to Spiderman. This was practically routine to Jungkook by now.

"Like Iron Man? Sure, Tony Stark's cool, but think about it — Spiderman's probably just a regular person like you and me. Can you imagine doing all he does while keeping it all undercover?", you rambled on, "Also his body's crazy," you added as an afterthought, almost whispering it to yourself.

Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle at this, inadvertently looking down at his own abdomen before responding, "How do you know he's got a nice body under that suit?"

"You can literally see his abs through the suit! Duh!", you tutted at him as if he were an idiot to question you.

"Ah, right. My bad," he chuckled, "Okay, whatever. Just pay attention to the movie. You can ramble about him all you want after we finish, okay?," he held up his pinky towards you in a childish fashion, grinning when you giggled at him and intertwined your pinky with him, grumbling a 'fine' in mock annoyance.

Now with you both putting your focus on the movie, — Jungkook's all-time favorite, Back to the Future — Jungkook had the opportunity to lose himself to his own head, thinking about your recent obsession with Spiderman — New York's newest hero.

After Spiderman's recent appearance at an encounter with the Avengers in Germany, followed by a more prominent presence in the streets of New York with a revamped suit, you had instantly formed an intense interest in the masked man. Prior to that, the hero was mostly a man hidden in the shadows — a myth to all those in Queens. Almost immediately upon his return to New York he became a sensation across the world, but specially around the area in which he'd serve the people and fight all evil around.

Among all those fans stood you, maybe the biggest of them all.

It didn't take you long to develop a liking to the masked man upon his sudden resurgence. Jungkook had known you to get overly invested in your interests (there had been a few instances throughout your friendship where you'd demonstrated as such), but he never thought you'd be the type to develop such a blatant crush on someone you virtually knew nothing about. Past the fact that he was the youngest addition to the Avengers, there was not much information about Spiderman out to the general public, yet you were quite loud about your crush on him to everyone you knew — especially to Jungkook, who just so happened to be your best friend.

Unfortunately to Jungkook, you were entirely unaware that the man you were actually crushing on was your best friend in disguise.

And even more unfortunate to him, you were even more unaware of Jungkook's own crush on you.

Did this count? Were you technically crushing on Jungkook?

He chose to go for the most pesimistic answer and assume that your interest in Spiderman would immediately die upon finding out his real identity. Throughout your many years of knowing each other — all through the ups and downs of middle school and high school all the way to university — you'd never once shown anything but platonic interest in him.

To be fair, Jungkook also never gave you any clear indication of his feelings for you. He liked to think that he was discrete about it; that you had no idea of the embarrassing crush he'd been cultivating since freshman year of high school. Fortunately, you appeared to be far too oblivious to it, leaving Jungkook to hold not one but two life-altering secrets, never once considering letting you in on either of them.

For now, all Jungkook could do was make up lame excuses for his sudden absences and to grumble any time Spiderman's name was brought up. Part of him held disdain for Spiderman due to having to keep him a secret from you, but most of his dislike was born out of jealousy over your interest in him. What did he have that Jungkook didn't? Nothing! But he could never tell you that, leading him to a never-ending dilema that he could entrust in no one.

The movie left his mind for the next of the night, much more so when you seemed to become disinterested again, cuddling against him as you prepared to let yourself fall asleep. This was common in your relationship, though it was always strictly platonic. It always left Jungkook wanting more, but still content at having you by his side.

The next time you brought up Spiderman was the morning after. That night, you'd fallen asleep soon before the Back to the Future marathon ended, which was coincidentally the same time in which he usually went out to patrol the city looking for crime nearby. Leaving you comfy on his couch and cuddled against some of his plushies, he made his way out to check in on the city. That night was particularly calm, as he only prevented two street burglaries before making his way back to a still-sleeping you.

Naturally, he fell asleep next to you, only waking up the following morning when you'd woken him up by shaking his side, exclaiming something about some news you'd just seen online. Before even coming to his senses, he could already tell what you were so excited about. It was a conflicting feeling really, consisting of half cockiness and half annoyance. He felt pride at how impressed you were at his actions (despite not having knowledge that they were his), though he also felt annoyed that it was his secret identity who took credit for it.

With a yawn, he finally turned to you in order to entertain your insistence on raving about the masked man who'd been spotted once again last night.

"Oh my God! Jungkook, look! He stopped some burglars just a few streets over! Do you think he passed by here? — What if he climbed on our walls? That's so crazy," you went a mile a minute, "Fuck, I can't believe I slept through it," you pouted by the end of your rambles, practically huffing and puffing.

Once more, he couldn't help but chuckle at your antics. Despite his internal annoyance at the mere existence of Spiderman, he was also thankful his presence gave him a first row seat to how adorably infatuated you could get.

"Not like you could've met him anyways," but then he burst your bubble anyways.

"Stop! I could never meet him, I'd embarrass myself too badly. He's too cool for me anyways," you laughed to yourself, beginning to get up and taking some clothes from one of the drawers nearby, — Jungkook's apartment housed some of your clothes specifically for nights like these — heading over to the bathroom and presumably beginning to get dressed as soon as you were outside of his line of sight, not even bothering to close the door.

"Really? He could just be a loser under that costume," he commented, knowing it'd get under your skin.

Leaning back against the couch with his arms behind his head in a relaxed manner, he didn't even need his spidey reflexes to predict the shirt you threw his way in defiance due to his comment. He simply let it land on his chest, chuckling at your cute childishness.

"C'mon! You don't have to defend him from every little comment I make. He's a superhero, right? He's got tough skin," he whined at you, crumpling the shirt into a ball and tossing it into the clothes bin nearby with an expert precision.

Finally coming out of the restroom fully dressed, you grumbled at him as you ransacked his living room in search for your makeup bag, "You're just jealous of him," you hummed, disinterested in his complaints.

"Jealous? Of what? Not having to risk my life on a daily basis?"

Oh, how he wished that was the case sometimes.

"Spiderman must have so much game. Meanwhile, when was the last time you had a girlfriend?", you mocked him, finally spotting your makeup and sitting on the floor in front of his full length mirror in order to do your makeup.

Getting up, he sat on a beanbag nearby, watching you through the reflection with a scowl.

"M-me? Without game? You're the one crushing on a nameless man who probably doesn't even have a place to live! At least I have my bachelor pad — which, by the way, you stay at free of charge!", he rebutted, somewhat offended but not really. He just really needed to win this fight against himself.

"Please, I could totally pull him if we were in the same room for five minutes," you smirked at him through the reflection, somehow grooming your eyebrows to absolute perfection despite the current argument going on.

"You literally just said he was too cool for you," he recalled back.

"Under that suit, he's just a man. And I could pull any man."

Pull me, please! a desperate gremlin in his head practically whined as soon as you said the words.

With a shake of his head, he cleared his mind of that thought, "Okay, valid. So, you mean to tell me that you're just waiting for the chance to catch him alone? Is that why you haven't dated in months?", he genuinely wondered.

"Maybe," you mumbled, now moving onto your blush, one of Jungkook's favorite touches in your makeup regimen, "How about you? How come you haven't seriously dated a girl in years? Any secret crush I need to know about? I'm very open about mine," you dug in, unknowingly making Jungkook break a sweat at the questioning glare you sent him through the mirror before refocusing your gaze on yourself.

Facing Captain America and the Winter Soldier had made him less nervous than this very moment.

He squirmed in his seat a bit before managing to let out a credible response, "Just- just not into anyone these days," he lamely responded.

"Boo," you boo'd him, "That's lame. Maybe if you wingman me with Spidey I could help you out with some girl," you suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," and that was that for that subject.

After that, the subject wasn't brought up again for the rest of the day. You and Jungkook followed your usual plans, walking over to uni side by side as soon as you finished getting ready and spending any of your down time together. Unlike last night, you opted to head back to your own apartment for the night, leaving Jungkook to freely roam the city in disguise while you probably daydreamed about the guy he wasn't. He kept you in his mind for the rest of the day, sighing any time he remembered how easy it was for you to want to pair him off to another girl, knowing his feelings surely would never be mutual.

Unfortunately for Jungkook, it was extremely difficult for him to ignore your intense interest in Spiderman. His supersonic hearing would not allow him to do so anyway.

He wasn't really in the habit of getting into your private business. Despite his superhuman abilities, he had sworn to himself that he would never spy on you or use any of his newfound skills to ever insert himself in places of your life where he wasn't openly invited.

However ...

Okay, it's not like he meant to be so quiet when he came into your apartment. And it's not like you hadn't invited him beforehand. It was very likely that you wouldn't have minded him hearing the conversation you were currently having with your friend on the phone since it technically did not concern him, but he still couldn't help but feel guilty at being made privy of the details of it.

And the details were harsh to listen to — but not in a bad way.

His nails dug into the edge of the wall as he began making sense of what you were saying — of who you were talking about. His eyebrows furrowed, not sure if in annoyance or if in frustration. Your commentary simply had an unexpected effect on him.

"Oh my God, don't ask me that!," you giggled, scandalized at your phone, "I can't think of him that way, I like him too much. It feels almost disrespectful," you whispered the last bit, as if ashamed yet still giddy.

Without any context, the hopeless romantic side of Jungkook's brain might've allowed him to think you were talking about him. His bionic hearing could make out your friend's words on the other side of the phone perfectly, however, which proved to him that you were in fact speaking of someone else — kind of.

"What, you're talking about him all the time but you tell me you've never had any thoughts of fucking him?", your friend teased on the other aide of the call, causing you to whine in response.

"Of course I have!," you argued back, making Jungkook mentally wince at the thought, "Everyone and their mom knows I'm into him, of course it's not just some elementary school crush, dude. I want him," you put extra emphasis on your last statement.

"Tell me more," your friend pushed.

Jungkook could hear you shuffling in the sheets, likely kicking your feet around due to the giddy emotions thinking about your crush caused within you.

"There's nothing to tell ..." you murmured, avoidant.

"There is, c'mon! It's not like you can talk about this with Jungkook. He hates him," she reminded you, causing Jungkook to nod to himself from the other side of the wall.

"He doesn't hate him. I think he just finds my crush ... dumb," you responded. You were right. Well, kind of.

"Okay, I don't care about that. I wanna hear more about him. You said you were going to try and see him. Have you?", your friend continued to push.

This made Jungkook pause.

Would you actually go as far as to try and seek out Spiderman? How would you even find him?

"Well," you started, dragging out the vowel, "I caught a peak of him the other day — don't say anything!," you interrupted yourself, "Jungkook doesn't know, it just happened the other day. And he'll call me reckless or something."

"What'd you see?", your friend was clearly excited at the news, ecstatic to heat more. Jungkook was more so anxious to hear more. How had he not spotted you?

"I caught him in the middle of changing out of his suit ..." you whispered, as if someone could possibly be listening in — if only you knew.

"What?!," if your friend was excited, she was over the moon now.

"I saw him making his way through the city with his little webs and he stopped by near me. It was total luck, but I recognized the alley where he stopped and ran there," you recounted, "All I could see by the time I got there was a guy speed walking away from the alley while adjusting a black sweatshirt — it was obviously him! Even speed walking he was too fast for me," you finished with an intake of breath.

"So you're saying you saw his abs, basically," was all your friend responded.

"Stop!," you whined, "But yeah ... I might've gotten to see his happy trail ... He had a mask and beanie on, so I didn't catch his face at all," he could hear the pout on your face, "Not that I wanted to! I'd never wanna find him out without his permission. I just wanted to see him up close."

Jungkook believed this. He knew that you'd respect anyone's privacy, specially someone who you had grown certain affection for.

He was still shocked by this information, though. You'd spotted him? How had he not noticed you? And on top of it all, you'd almost caught him suit-less. A tiny, and frankly stupid, part of him felt a little cocky at knowing you'd seen him in action — at knowing you'd seen part of his body and liked it. His regular self was quite modest around you, not wanting to cross any boundaries nor cause you to feel liberal enough to walk around bare near his vicinity (his brain would just not he able to handle that). It was already hard enough for him to see you in those tiny little shorts and tank tops you'd wear to sleep during the summer. He hoped he had a similar effect on you, and knowing he somewhat had it made him feel like he was on top of the world.

And then your conversation continued.

"You should've followed him, you dumbass! Don't you wanna know where that happy trail leads?," your friend encouraged.

"As much as I'd love to get him in bed, I can't just stalk him! Iron Man's secret identity didn't last too long, we'll probably know who Spidey is within a few years and I'll be first in line to get to him," you giggled.

"What are you gonna do once you get to him?"

"Not to get nasty, but the first thing I'd do would be–"

That's when Jungkook stomped his feet and made his presence to you known, acting as if he'd just arrived. There was no way he'd be able to hear your thoughts and still be able to look you in the eye afterward.

"Y/N? You home?", he stealthily made his way back to the front door before calling out to you, surely interrupting your conversation.

"Shit, never mind, Kook's here. Gotta go," you said a quick goodbye to your friend before making your way to the living room and welcoming Jungkook.

"Kookie! I forgot you were coming," you walked over to him to give him a quick hug; your usual greeting.

"You should just assume I'm coming at any time," he mumbled into the hug, pulling away and immediately finding his rightful place on your couch, soon joined by you.

"So, what's new?", he turned to you with interest.

You cocked your head to the side in a questioning manner, "Nothing? You just saw me yesterday," you scoff.

"Nothing new with your spider boy?", he feigned disinterest.

"You never wanna hear about him. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe I want to be more supportive," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

From his peripheral he could tell you were looking at him with curiosity in your eyes, likely pondering about his change of heart. It took you a few seconds of silence before shrugging off his unusual interest and continuing the conversation.

"I might've spotted him the other day ...", now you were the one to mumble, looking down to avoid what you likely believed would be a judgmental reaction from him.

"R-really?", he scratched the back of his head, "Where? What'd you see?"

"Y'know, just him swinging around. Saw him heading home, I think. Then I lost track of him," you told him once you'd realized this wasn't some ruse to scold you for your interest again.

"What would you do if you actually met him someday?", he asked nonchalantly. Or at least as nonchalantly as he could manage while recalling the prior response he'd interrupted when you'd been talking to your friend.

Shrugging, you pressed your lips into a line as you pondered it for a bit, "I'd just tell him I'm his fan, I guess. I'd probably be too shy to even speak to him. It's like talking to your high school crush; you just avoid them as much as you can til it goes away," you chuckled to yourself.

He hummed, "Well, if the day ever comes, I think it'd be worth a try to talk to him. Maybe he'll like what he hears."

You nodded along, seemingly mulling over it inwardly, but saying nothing more regarding the matter. Jungkook joined you in dropping the subject, moving on to your usual movie night whilst also thinking over your sudden spotting of his masked self. It was odd to him how you'd somehow spotted him, but that was really the last thing on his mind. What concerned him the most was the sudden desire he felt to fulfill that need to see you while he was in his suit. He craved for you to return his feelings and there was a thoughtless side of him that wanted to get that reaction out of you, even if it meant you'd be reciprocating it to someone else.

Jungkook knew this was a stupid and reckless thing to do.

If Tony Stark were here in this moment, he'd probably take away the brand new suit he'd recently made for him. However, Jungkook was only 21, his hormones were still going crazy; crazy enough for him to make dumb and uncontrolled decisions just based off his feelings.

This was how he came to find himself pacing back and forth on the terrace of your apartment building whilst suited up. Muttering out loud to himself, he fought against himself as to whether or not he should go through with what had been bugging at him since speaking to you about your almost-encounter last week.

After mulling over it for a bit, he came to realize that there was no true harm to actually granting your wish of meeting Spiderman. He knew you to be a reasonable person (despite your claims of wanting to fuck Spiderman — who was a complete stranger to you) and felt reassured that you wouldn't put his identity at risk. On top of that, you had claimed that you probably wouldn't be able to even speak to him if you were to meet him.

The biggest issue was to come up with a reason as to why he'd be paying you a visit in particular. Maybe you were completely clueless as to your best friend's secret identity, but you weren't an idiot. His motives and identity would be immediately suspicious to you due to the strange nature of his apparition. Sure, he could hide his face and voice and even demeanor, but you'd be able to piece the pieces together too easily, anyone would.

Unluckily for him, this was not something he had to worry about for too long, as his plans did not go as smoothly as he had hoped. Just in between his nonsensical rambles to himself, there was an interruption orchestrated by you, with your sudden presence in the terrace throwing him completely off guard. Thank God he hadn't had a chance to take off his mask before you showed up.

"Oh my God," were your only words as you slowly made your way through the door leading to the terrace, choosing not to make your presence unknown.

"Shit," was his sole response, wincing from behind the mask.

"What- what are you doing here? Is it really you?", you asked, slowly making your way closer to his frozen self.

Attempting to switch over to his usual confident demeanor, Jungkook stood up straighter, hands on his hips as he waved over at you. The eyes displayed on his mask replicated his actual facial expression, squinting at you in a friendly manner as he tried to introduce himself in the least awkward way he could muster whilst deepening his voice in order to mask it.

"Hello! I- Yes, it's me! I- uh, was not expecting anyone to be here," he managed, walking over to you and giving you a handshake — something quite out of character for Spiderman, which he hoped you didn't pick up on.

Unfortunately, you did pick up on it, tilting your head to the side in curiosity before returning his handshake. From Jungkook's perspective, you seemed like a mixture of nerves, excitement and genuine curiosity. He couldn't blame you. Your idol/crush had suddenly showed up on the roof of your apartment and was nonchalantly trying to make acquaintances with you.

"I'm so sorry!," you suddenly chirped, letting go of his hand mid handshake, "I wasn't following you, I swear! I live downstairs and sometimes I come up here for air and I saw you and I thought it was you — and it is you! Wow, I- Fuck, hi. I'm Y/N, it's so nice to meet you," you rambled on and on, inflicting pain in Jungkook's heart at how adorable you were.

"Hi, again," he smiled under the mask, "It's fine, uh, this happens more than you may think," he lied, attempting to cover his tracks.

"Really? Do you get spotted a lot?", you wondered.

"It's not super rare, but it's usually while I'm on the run, not like, uh, like this. I was just resting for a bit," he went to casually lean against the railing next to him but pathetically slipping a bit and having to readjust his standing.

He cleared his throat, "So, I take it you're a fan?", he attempted to make conversation.

"I'm literally obsessed with you. I keep up with every article that comes out about you and any sighting of yours," you beamed before cringing to yourself, "Shit, I'm not playing it cool at all, am I?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, "No, you're good, trust me. Most people just scream and run away or ask me to do a backflip — which I can totally do, but it gets repetitive. Others attack me sometimes. It's rare to actually start conversation with me."

"Oh, so am I special, then?", you giggled, taking a few steps forward as you moved to lean on the railing next to him.

And just like that, you took the upper hand in the conversation. The mood shifted the moment you decided to start a flirtation with him, and Jungkook knew he was completely doomed.

Yes, you were absolutely special. Sure, he would occasionally interact with regular citizens of Queens, but he had never actually sought them out for conversation nor even entertained any fanatics of his. For you, however, he was willing to make an exception. God, he had been itching to do this from the moment he found out you had an infatuation with the superhero.

"Y- you- yeah," he cleared his throat, trying again, "You're the only person who hasn't alerted everyone around me of my presence," he regained his suave vibe by the end of the sentence.

"Why would I ever do that?", you pondered out loud, using a flirtatious tone Jungkook had never been on the receiving end of, "Then I wouldn't get to have you all for myself."

Were you closer? Had you moved closer in proximity? He could swear that the distance had lessened from just a few moments ago. This wasn't good, but it was also great.

"O-oh? That's ... Yes, hah, thank you for not exposing me," was all he managed to say. Fuck, his usual wit and ability to banter under the guise of being Spiderman seemingly dissipated when it came to interacting with you.

You giggled at him, likely taking note of how easy it was to fluster him. Jungkook knew you were aware of how attractive you were, also having the ability you turn up the charm whenever you so wished — except he had never dealt with it firsthand. It was both exhilarating and nerve wracking at the same time. He had truly not prepared for this.

"It's no problem," you smiled at him with a hint of something else in your eye, "Since you're such a good guy, y'know, maybe you'd like to return the favor?", you tilted your head at him, lifting your eyebrows suggestively.

"R-repay? How would you suggest?", he managed to regain some of his confidence, now leaning his body a bit more towards your own, smiling under his mask as he attempted to keep his heart rate normal.

"I'm sure you're super busy saving the world and all that, but maybe you'd like to visit again? No one ever comes up here, so it'd just be the two of us," you suggested, biting your lip in anticipation. Despite your confidence, Jungkook could still hear the rapid thumping of your heart — you were nervous about shooting your shot with a certain superhero; understandably so.

He decided to take advantage of the newfound realization that you might've been just as nervous as he was, clearing his throat and ensuring he didn't stutter this time around, "That'd be unfair, though, wouldn't it? To show you favoritism over all my other fans?", he said in flirtatious jest, hoping you caught on.

A pout far too enticing for Jungkook made its way to your lips, "But you just said I was special?", your hand went up to his chest, finger tracing the spider symbol on it.

"I never said that, you did," you couldn't see the teasing grin on his face, but it was there to stay.

"Oh?", you feigned offense, "So you don't think I'm special? Wow, now you really do owe me."

"You're right. Wouldn't want any unhappy citizens in Queens when I can help it," he agreed, taking hold of your wrist and tracing the back of it.

You smiled to yourself then, letting air out through your nose before looking back up at him, "I really do mean it. If you ever need a place to lay low, you can always come," you paused, "And ... If you ever want company, I'm just downstairs," you suggested.

Biting his lips from behind the mask, he nodded, letting go of your hand, "Yeah, I'll take that in mind," he checked his wrist despite there being no watch there, pulling a chuckle from you, "Unfortunately, I have to get back to patrolling now, but I'll see you around?", he asked as he climbed up the ledge of your building, ready to swing away.

"That's up to you, Spiderman," were the last words you said, though they were spoken with a confidence that told him you knew he'd be coming back.

Within just a month, Jungkook had lost count of the times he'd coincidentally found himself on your roof, always showing up at a similar time as that of your first encounter.

At first he played it off as a coincidence, cheekily claiming that he was just passing by and needed some rest. Other times, he'd show up due to legitimate exhaustion as he sought you out for comfort. It was very quick that you began a genuine friendship with one another, having an unspoken agreement of seeing each other there a few times a week late into the afternoon.

The flirtation was still present, but a friendship between you overtook that. This made Jungkook glad in a sense, as he knew he would've felt guilty if anything romantic ever came up without you knowing his real identity. He already felt badly about befriending you without your knowledge, but he felt like he was too late to back out now.

Today was yet another day in which he decided to show up, though this time a little later. Since you lived at the highest floor of your building, his mere presence on the roof was enough to alert you of his arrival, causing you to walk through the door leading to the staircase just moments later.

You were in your pajamas — just some small shorts and a tank top, but it was enough for his eyes to bug out of his head (figuratively, of course). Any time he'd stay over with you, you'd usually opt for a shirt long enough to cover halfway through your thighs, but since Jungkook wasn't present tonight it seemed like you'd chosen a tank top tight enough it'd give him the perfect view of your nipples peaking through the fabric. It bugged him to think you were doing this for Spiderman and not Jungkook, but he was too distracted by the sight of you to mind it too much.

"Hey," you greeted him as you headed his way, "A little late today, huh?"

"Yeah, uh, I was busy with a robbery," he explained, leaning against the veranda as you joined next to him.

"Oh? That sounds dangerous? Are you hurt? Maybe I should take a look?", your hand went up to his chest, pretending to check for injuries.

He laughed and you joined him, biting his lip under the mask, "You're even more dangerous than any bad guy out there, you know that?", he grabbed your wrist and took your hand off his chest, opting to shyly hold onto it instead.

"Me? I'm not the masked man showing up at an unsuspecting girl's apartment in the middle of the night," you teased, hand playing with his own.

"I thought I wouldn't be a stranger by now. We've been meeting for what, a month now? I'd say that's enough to get to know a person," he reasoned.

"Hmm," you pretended to mull over it, "Does that mean there's no chance you'll let me see what's under that mask?", you pouted at him.

This was not the first time you teased him about his secret identity, often bugging him (in a way far too entertaining for him to be actually bugged by it) to let you in on his secret. You swore up and down you'd never tell, offering up your pinky to intertwine with his. Jungkook liked you so much that there were various instances in which he had to catch himself before he ended up agreeing with your request.

"You know I can't do that, gorgeous," it was his turn to flirt. To be fair, as Spiderman, he did have a flirtatious streak to his personality. You weren't the only one on the receiving end of it, but you sure were the only one he meant it with. You also always giggled or blushed when he turned up the charm, which always instigated him into doing it more and more.

"But you said I was special," you reminded him with a smile, "And! We've been meeting for a while. Don't you wanna trust at least one person with your identity? Y'know, if something were to happen to you," even Jungkook could tell you were pulling your reasoning out of your ass, but he couldn't help but feel endeared by you.

Before he could fire back with an equally cheeky response, you interrupted him again, "How about you let me see you some other way?"

He cocked his head to the side with curiosity, unknowing of what you meant.

Hesitantly, your hand let go of his, now engulfing it with both of your hands. Your fingers traced his hands through his gloves, looking up at him for a moment to seek permission for what you were going to go next. Silently, he offered you a nod, allowing you to take off his gloves.

Jungkook couldn't help but feel slightly scared that you might recognize his hands, but finding no reaction in your eyes or heart rate (which he could hear perfectly any time he neared you), he felt calm. Your hands traced his own bare ones, eventually holding them in your own. The entirety of the interaction was soft and intimate in a way Jungkook had never experienced.

"Can I see more?", you asked after a while, voice almost a whisper.

"What- what would you like to see?", he whispered back, gulping at how close to you he suddenly felt.

Once more, your hand silently went up to touch him, but this time it reached his chest, laying flat against it before slowly finding the opening in the middle, allowing you to peek at a sliver of his bare chest. Without hesitation, Jungkook grabbed onto your hands on his chest and helped you open his body suit a little more, just enough to reveal his chest.

Your hands softly traced at a few cuts and bruises found there, pouting to yourself as you stared at the firm muscle under your hands. Silence engulfed you for a few moments as he enjoyed your affections.

"Well, this seems kinda unfair," he started with a quiet voice, "You're getting me naked, feeling me up. Making me feel like a piece of meat," he joked.

You stifled a chuckle, "Don't think I didn't notice you looking at my boobs when I got here, you perv. I'm just getting my payback," your hands went back to his hands, taking them in your own.

He gaped at you from under his mask, "I- I would never!", he rasped out, "The fact that you would even accuse me of that- I- I am appalled, Y/N Y/L/N," he gave you an exaggerated gasp.

"Okay, whatever," you rolled your eyes, "Can I keep going now?", you asked as you went back to tracing his suit with your hands, this time reaching up to his neck.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as you stared up at him. He knew that all you could see was the comically large eyes featured on his mask, but he was still affected by the look on your face. Your mouth was agape and your eyes kept going down to where you knew his lips would be. Without being able to help himself, his hands wrapped around your waist, feeling the sliver of skin between your shorts and your tank top. In all your years of friendship, Jungkook had never been able to hold you like this. It was exhilarating.

There was no need for any words as your hands found his mask, lifting it up to uncover his lips and lay right below his nose. Jungkook knew he should've been more careful in letting anyone — even you — even make contact with his mask, but his eyes had been trained on your lips from the moment you got your hands on him. His mind was in another planet at the moment.

There was, again, no reaction from you that could've led Jungkook to believe you had recognized him. Was the shape of his lips not obvious enough? Were you too distracted to notice? It truly made no sense to him, but the proximity of your lips had him too distracted to think about it too much.

That was when the moment Jungkook had been waiting for for years finally came to fruition. Your lips made contact with his own, very tentative and shy in their movements. Mere seconds happened until he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss as he held you against him.

It was a bit awkward due to the obstacle the mask proved itself to be, but Jungkook didn't care. He was far too drunk in you to consider anything around him, specially when the kiss grew heated within moments. Pressing you up against the veranda, Jungkook let out all pent up need against tour mouth, hoping in the back of his mind that you wouldn't realize it was him you were kissing.

Sadly, it all ended before Jungkook could really lose himself in it. You pulled away with a giggle at the way his body insisted on following yours, attempting to trap you in another kiss. He couldn't help but chuckle back, still not letting go of you.

"Hmm, ever let any of your other fans go that far?", you hummed when he buried his face on the crook of your neck, pressing shy kisses on the bare skin.

"N-no, just you," he muttered, pulling back to readjust his suit, now covering himself back up.

"Boo," you complained once he was completely covered up again, crossing your arms petulantly, "What, time for you to go?"

"Sadly, yes. I'm a busy man, pretty. Need to get back out there to ensure pretty girls like you remain safe," he coo'd at you jokingly, pinching your nose adoringly before beginning to climb the veranda in order to leave.

"You know this isn't a one-time thing, right?", you called from below him.

"Oh, I'll make sure it's not, baby," he chuckled before saluting you as he jumped down, disappearing from your view almost immediately.

He arrived home soon after that, too giddy to even consider patrolling that night. The smile wouldn't leave his face, and his skin was covered in goosebumps. He felt like such a teenager at the excitement cruising through him, but the remnants of the feeling of your mouth on his simply wouldn't leave him.

He knew that sooner or later he'd have to tell you about who he was, but he wanted to enjoy your newfound relationship as much as he could. So far, you hadn't told him about your frequent encounters with Spiderman, which led him to believe you felt the same way. Clearly you wanted to keep him as your own little secret, which only made him the giddier about it all.

There were occasions in which Jungkook simply didn't plan things out to well. Today was one of those days.

Having no one aware of his identity proved to be more bothersome than he had first assumed. Sure, he could lie about his location to his friends and family with ease, keep any troubling encounters with criminals to himself, but it was the aftermath of these encounters that sometimes came to be too much for him to handle.

He had been reckless tonight, somehow miscalculating every single one of his moves when taking down a crew of armed robbers. He hadn't even meant to come across them nor fight them on his own (Tony Stark had warned him about this before), but it's not like he could've walked away without at least attempting to deal with the situation.

In the end, he was victorious, and his current state proved as much. It was not a simple fight, resulting in his suit getting mangled all over, with many of the injuries penetrating into his actual skin.

Battered and covered in bruises and scratches all over, Jungkook had no idea where to go. This was one of the first times in which Jungkook found himself limping and unknowing of how to patch himself up before the sun rose. His plan had been poor, which only reminded him what a stupid decision it was to try and handle the situation on his own rather than to leave it up to the police.

But his terrible planning skills did not stop there. They evolved into finding himself standing on the fire escape that led directly to your apartment. With his arms holding onto his sides to try and alleviate the pain, he reached out to knock on your window, hoping 2AM wasn't too late for you to come find him.

It was only moments when you showed up in your pajamas, a shocked yet worried look on your face as you opened up your fire escape entrance to him.

"Oh my God, what happened?", you asked whilst ushering him in, providing him with support so he could make it over to your room and lay on your bed.

"You should see the other guy," he rasped, coughing out.

"Stop! Fuck, how can I help you? What do you need?", you frantically went over to your restroom, returning with a makeshift first aid kit.

You sat next to him on the bed, helping him sit up so you could check out his injuries. His suit had multiple scratches that revealed slivers of his skin, but there was nothing you hadn't seen the previous time he had been over.

"It was just a robbery gone wrong. Nothing to worry about," he finally said, wincing when you began to open up his suit to better check his injuries. Your hands immediately went to try and take care of the cuts on his stomach, moving anything out of the way in order to reach them.

"You idiot," you muttered, "This is gonna hurt, okay? Just breathe deep," you warned before moving on to dab on his injuries with some ointment. Hissing at the burn, his stomach hardened, causing him to recoil a bit.

"Jungkook, be still," you hissed back at him, scoffing when he suddenly stilled at the mention of his name.

"W-what? What did you just say?",

You paid him no mind, still putting all your focus in his injuries, "Do you think I'm dumb, Jungkook? You show up to hang out with me and let me feel you up and you think I won't recognize you? You really are an idiot," you chuckled by the end.

"You- you knew?! This whole time?", he gaped at you, throwing off his mask as he groaned at the way you blatantly laughed at his shock, "God, you suck."

"C'mon, Jungkook. You're a horrible liar. And I'm your best friend, you can't hide anything from me."

"Whatever," he huffs, followed by a wince from your manhandling of his injuries, "You could've told me," he muttered petulantly.

You finally looked back at him, with a stern look in your eyes Jungkook only ever saw whenever you were about to tell him off, "Oh, like you told me? Dude, you were more than fine pretending not to know me," you jabbed at him, "Dickhead," you muttered once you were done.

It was his time to chuckle, jabbing at your leg with his own and smirking when you pushed back.

"So, is this you admitting you've wanted to fuck me all this years?"

You scoffed, "Me? I wanted to fuck Spiderman. Not my fault it turned out to be you," you argued as you wrapped some bandages on the cuts found alonh his torso, "You're the one who came after me cause you wanted to fuck me."

"Okay, fine," he relented, patting at the wraps you'd just secured on him, "What's the verdict now? Still want to fuck me?", he leaned in with a smirk, smirk growing even bigger at your playful scowl.

"Shut up and come here," you practically growled at him, pulling him to you by his shoulders and catching him in a kiss.

It was almost effortless the way in which Jungkook pushed you back on the bed, easily climbing on top of you as he kissed you. His hand was on your back as he lowered your body to lay flat on the bed, ignoring any injury he may have had. Everything left his mind as he kissed you — the burglary, the secret he thought he had been keeping from you, the relief you now knew; everything.

"Kook," you sighed when his lips reached the length of your neck, softly nibbling at your skin every so often.

"You're so bad," he murmured, "Lying to me this whole time ... Making me look like an idiot while I tried to keep my secret from you," he reprimanded with a love bite.

"You're the idiot who- oh," your complaint was interrupted by the sudden presence of his hands on your breasts, feeling at your nipples through the thin barrier of your tank top.

"Shh, baby. You may have had the upper hand all these years, but now I'm in charge," he shushed you, "Never looked my way, but kept tryna get in my pants as Spidey? Bad, bad girl," he murmured as his lips came closer and closer to your chest, eventually reaching your nipples and wrapping his mouth around the clothed skin, engulfing the cloth with his saliva as he abused your nipple with his teeth.

You writhed under him, both frustrated at the barrier and affected by the stimulation, "Hmm, and you're good at dealing with the bad guys, right, Kookie?", you murmured, already delirious with his touch.

In the meantime, his hands went up to your breasts, lifting up the shirt and smoothly managing to throw it off before his hands went right back to playing with your tits.

"Oh, yeah. Gonna take care of you, baby. Gonna fuck all the bad out of you," he sighed at the sight of your nude torso, hips unable to help themselves in beginning to grind against you.

He trapped you under him, using you for his own pleasure. However, if your moans were anything to go by, he had a great idea of his current effect on you. Holding you down, he kissed you up and down, going from your breasts to your lips all while his hips danced with your own. At some point his hands snuck down to help you pull off your shorts and panties low enough to give him access to you. By now, you were basically completely nude while he remained in his scratched up suit. Seemed unfair, but it worked for Jungkook.

With curious hands, he reached down to your bare cunt, beginning to finger his way to your clit. His thumb found it with a swiftness you could only expect from a man like Jungkook. Synchronizing his hand and hips, he ground down on you while thumbing at the puffy pearl between your legs.

"Right there, huh?", he murmured at your increasingly high-pitched sighs, "That's where you need it, huh, baby?"

Warm eyes stared down at yours, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he worked you all the way to your peak. Not a single part of him was occupied with anything but you — his lips tended to your own, his hand to your clit, his hips to your cunt, he was consumed by you whilst consuming you himself.

All his senses were heightened. His superhuman hearing allowed him to take in every noise of wetness coming south and every cry coming north. He could smell you perfectly, which only added to the delirious feeling you always provoked in him.

"I- Kookie, I'm gonna cum ... Keep going, I'm almost there, fuck," you cried as his movements sped up. Unbeknownst to you, he let out a sigh of relief at realizing your orgasm would come before his own. He was bursting inside his suit, almost ready to pounce you.

"Yeah? Cum for me, pretty. Need you to cum for me, okay? Promise I'll ... I'll fuck the bad out of you right after," he swore, lips finding their way to your ear as he whispered words of encouragement to you.

With a desperate nod, you continued to cry out his name, hands finding his bicep for support as you let yourself go. Jungkook took in every sound, every move, every single reaction coming from you. He memorized every bit of your orgasm and let himself be ruined by it.

Upon the crescendo of your orgasm, wet sounds filled up the room once more as his lips made their rightful way to yours once again. He sighed praise into your lips, calling you his good girl and his dream, claiming you to be the greatest reward he could ever receive.

"Thought I was bad, Kook? What happened to that?", you teased him, beginning to slowly rip off his suit in order to get him equally as nude as yourself.

"Baby, shut up. Just let me fuck you," he scolded, annoyed your words were interrupting his kisses.

"Hmm, do superheroes need condoms, or are you going in raw?", you asked so casually it made Jungkook's grip on you tighten involuntarily.

"Don't talk like that, fuck, I'll cum," he winced before backtracking with wide eyes, "Shit, wait. You'd let me do it raw?", he gaped at you, interrupting the kiss.

You laughed at him, giving him a single peck, "Course, Kook. Trust you more than anyone," you said, sharing the first moment of pure softness of the night.

Jungkook loved how easy it was for you to share friendly banter and bug at each other even under this context, but he couldn't lie when he said he adored those moments of unadulterated adoration you'd share any time you looked up at him while he was Spiderman. This was reminiscent of those moments, but so much better — especially being now aware that every single one of those looks had been directed at Jungkook, not Spiderman.

"Yeah?," he smiled at you, intertwining your fingers above your head, "Trust you too, beautiful," he let go of one of your hands to line himself up, groaning as he traced his tip up and down your folds before finally entering you.

"God, Kook," you sighed, arching your back at the feeling.

"I know, fuck," he matched your tone, burying his face in your neck while he gave you some time to get used to him, "Let me know when I can move, okay, baby? Feel so fucking good already."

You nodded wordlessly, using your free hand to dig your nails on the skin of his back. After about a minute you gave him the green light to move, dragging your nails down his back when he began to thrust, slowly building up his speed snd intensity.

"That feel good, pretty?", he murmured into your ear.

"Mhm!", you practically whined, attempting to move your hips to his rhythm, "D-don't stop."

Unburying himself from the crook of your neck, his hands went to your face to make you look into his eyes. He looked at you silently for a few moments with softness in his eyes, proceeding to locking your lips in a kiss as he continued to fuck into you. It was all very intense yet it carried an air of intimacy Jungkook knew he would never be able to replicate.

"Tell me you're almost there, shit. 'm gonna cum soon, pretty," he warned, thrusts accelerating in both speed and intensity.

"Yes! Almost there, just- keep going," you whined, hands reaching his hips to further encourage his movements. Wrapping your legs tighter around him, your body took control and did its best to follow his movements, making Jungkook's orgasm even more imminent.

"Think I can count you down?" he grumbled, eyebrows furrowed and demonstrating the amount of restraint in him at the moment.

"Yes, c-count me down," you nodded aggressively.

"Kay, pretty. Cum with me, yeah? In three," his hand went to toy at your clit once more, making you hiss in pleasure, "two ..." his hips readjusted to hit at that one spongey spot he'd been ramming at, but now harder, "one," he groaned the last word, almost falling limp against you as his movements stilled.

He could feel himself emptying inside you, kissing at your skin endlessly at how intimate the act felt. Meanwhile, you mewled nonstop under him, not helping his situation at all. He felt as if life halted for a moment, with everything aligning perfectly as he enjoyed both his and your orgasm.

"God ... Fuck, I can't believe it took us this long to do that," he sighed when it was all said and done.

You pushed at him, making him remove his weight off you and lay beside you, staring up at the ceiling just like you, "You're the dumbass who wouldn't tell me you liked me," you huffed.

"Well, if I'm that much of a dumbass, why did you never tell me you knew who I was- Which, by the way! How long have you known?", he was still fairly breathless, but entirely too curious.

You took a pause to laugh at him for a moment, only stopping when he gave you a menacing stare, "Since the first day you came to see me," you started, "You moved and talked just like Jungkook, and it made no sense for you to come see me out of all people," you revealed.

His body turned to its side, arm reaching out to make you cuddle against him, "Why didn't you say anything?", he pouted.

"I don't know," you shrugged, "Wanted you to tell me about your identity on your own. Not my fault you're too dumb," you murmured that last part."

"Okay, whatever. You're my Spidey girlfriend now anyway, so it doesn't matter anymore," he huffed.

"Oh? I don't recall anyone asking me to be their 'Spidey girlfriend,' do you?"

"Fine," he groaned, "Give me ten minutes and I'll give you a full-on confession of love, okay?"

"Can't wait," you laughed.

to read short 1.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, dry humping, teasing, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 212 (teaser); 1308 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"You're the vain of my existence, you know that, right?", you groaned at Jungkook's sudden presence on your fire escape.

"Is that how you talk to your boyfriend? I spend all day fighting evil and come back to nothing but disrespect," he complained jokingly, making his way into your room as if he owned the place.

"Boyfriend? Last I remember, I'm dating Spiderman, not Jeon Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook never asked me out," you trailed behind him, guiding him to take a seat in your couch.

"That joke's getting so old," he boo'd at you, "Plus, I literally have the suit on. Should I put on the mask? Is my face that ugly?" he continued his complaints, taking a seat on your couch and pulling you towards him, his inhuman strength managing to get you straddling him with minimal effort.

"No," you coo'd, "I like Jungkook's face just fine," your hands went to play with his hair, kissing at his cheek softly, "So, who were the bad guys today? Robbers? Bullies?"

"Nothing much today, just some guy stealing a bike and then a lost cat," he mumbled, "Still spent most of the day patrolling, though," he said as he buried his face in your chest, allowing you complete access to playing with his hair.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[riaki]

OKAY EVERYONE IS SAYING GOJO DOESN'T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING YES

BuT what if we could make it a little ANGSTY instead?? 👀 He gets his happy ending. His. Happy ending. You? Well.. Old habits die hard. This is what you wanted after all no? So what if he breaks his promises? What if your smile begins to fade? What if

What you said about later on reader and freckles growing apart cause freckles seemed nice it'd be a shame for him to be an ass

But that it's silly cause the irony is what if that freckle boy.. was just like Gojo but in a different light.

Being as it wasn't him who hurt reader, it was easy to overlook the fact of how similar he was to the old Gojo she knew before it became a shit show

Maybe she realizes that

Maybe she starts thinking

Maybe she drifts apart

And maybe Gojo comforts her but he's the last person she wants to see

Because it's these stupid feelings for Gojo that led her to this hell

And Gojo goes again

And he reels her in

And once he has her

Only to see as her smile begins to fade

As all the effort he had put in when he didn't have her start going away once again

And he starts to fall into old habits becoming the same as he was before, but this time, with you at his hand

As he slowly takes away your smiles again.

But it's okay, he'll make it right. Just...later. and later. And later...

You hope.

sorry I'm not good with angst sorry for any cringe 🤣

this is!! such!!! a good!!!! take!!!!!! on hsbully!gojo!!!!!! tbh this ask speaks for itself lol n dw anon! i rlly love the way u brought it :3 this is highschoolbully!gojo part 592727465527 *suggestive!

yeah. freckles boy isn’t that great of a person. maybe he tried but it didn’t work out; u dunno why but u keep seeing gojo in him— hints of satoru in ur life. like that stinky cologne he thinks is kinda cool but rlly doesn’t smell too good on ur bfs drawer, or the way he takes his coffee. honestly, if u squint, it almost seems like freckle boy is tryna copy gojo in a way…? but u don’t like thinkin abt him so u don’t blink an eye.

fast forward u broke up with freckle boy because something or other; the point is, u really didn’t feel anything with him. there might’ve been a spark, but it was really only artificial and had no wind to fan the flames. and since u got together gojo’s been distant; his smile seems dimmer and there’s always this faraway; foggy look that makes the brilliant azure of his eyes seem cloudy gray. but then ur catching up with him again and at some random frat party you get drunk and ur sense is inhibited and— u end up kissing gojo… oops.

so then u kinda enter this fwb state with him. and.. he’s pretty cool, right? he’s kinda evrything u want in a guy— tall, pretty, cool, strong, handsome, charming— it’s a package deal. but there’s also this… rift, between the two of you. see, ever since gojo lost u the first time, he’s always been so scared of pushing u away. so u stay fwb because he doesn’t wanna lose u again in case he’s feelin more than you are. but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he sleeps with other girls and his chest doesn’t tighten like it does with u when he gets mouthfuls of fruity gloss from kissing other girls. but he forces himself to keep this wall up between the two of u because he just can’t risk losing you a third time.

it sucks for u too, though! gojo’s just a bit too dense to see it. whether it’s in his own nature, or he’s faking it. it’s probably the latter, but that’d mean he’s not being genuine again, n you don’t wanna think about it. but you’re gettin comfy with him and so is he, and you really do whole heartedly believe he’s changed this time, and for good. and it’s true! he has. but not in the way you thought. apparently, he’s exchanged being an ass with an unreachable ego to a pinch more genuine, but still an ass. it’s proved when u get to his apartment one rainy day ready to spend the weekend w/ him for a study date, but there’s clothes on the floor. dresses n stockings and a frilly blouse that you definitely think (or hope) don’t belong to gojo. unfortunately, your suspicions are confirmed when you lay eyes on the tangle of people on his bedroom through the crack in the door— this time, it’s your turn to run in a hurry. turns out, he got comfortable with you— all in the wrong way, thinking it’d be okay to sleep around. except he gives chase— after pulling on a pair of pants, of course.

eventually he catches up to you; you hate those stupidly long legs. catches your wrist and forces you to face him. in front of a chick fil a, nonetheless. he gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu— but he’s forcibly snapped out of it when je realizes you’re crying. and damn, you look gorgeous, and he wishes it would rain because the sunlight falls around you like liquid gold, framing your pretty face and reflecting prisms of rainbow in your tears.

once again, he doesn’t get it. why are you crying? it’s not like you were really serious or labeled, right…? and the entire reason you’d stayed that way was to avoid somethin like this. but gojo slowly comes to the realization that he’s fucked up big time— he has been since day 1. really, he should’ve found somebody cheaper to chase— you stole his heart and his pride, making him awkwardly and stiffly apologize to you in front of a fast food restaurant on some random crossing next to a train station. it’s only tense because he doesn’t really know how to apologize— he doesn’t have much experience with it, and for that he blames his ego.

but even so, he’s not ready for those big, sappy love confessions yet. you always made him feel so weird— correction: you still do. so you walk away somewhere between fwb and strangers. it’s always one step forward and two steps back with gojo. but maybe, just maybe— he can slowly rebuild your trust with some patience, empathy, and a lot of genuine love that he’s yet to realize he’s been nursing in his heart for you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

paaaaaaart one

[devilfic]

❝late-bloomer❞

plot: you've never been kissed before. on a completely unrelated note, what if your best friend offered to be your first? pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: post-tasm 2, gwen stacy mention, angst, self-deprecating thoughts about being undesirable and insecurity in love, best friends to wouldn't you like to know, eventual fluff, attempts at andrew garfield accurate rambling, he definitely talks you through it I mean who said that. words: 4.3k.

a/n: entirely self-indulgent because I wrote this after crying over being a late-bloomer for an hour ahahaha

Peter is reading something for research when you suck in a breath and finally ask, "What was your first kiss like?"

You hear his voice die in his throat. The small whispering of test results and calculations fall short, but you don't dare to look back. You're hunched forward so he won't see the way your eyes burn and brim with tears unshed because if he did, he'd ask about it and then you'd really start crying. Instead, you busy yourself with your phone, idly scrolling as if your question was pure curiosity alone.

You watch his ankles uncross, hear him sit up and then lean against the headboard again, fumbling for your train of thought, "Uh... sticky, 'cause I was six," Peter laughs, "You should know. You're the one who kissed me."

No matter how many times he tells you this, you can't remember the day you'd been so bold as to plant one right on Peter Parker's lips. You felt like you'd remember that, but you'd been such an impulsive child back them. Bolder. Thicker-skinned.

But Peter remembers, and so does Aunt May who swears up and down that she'd caught it on camera ("If only I could find that damned photo album"). You're the only one who doesn't. It's like it never happened, "No, God... no. I mean like your first real kiss."

"Like with tongue?" You hear the humor in his voice and even your sullen mood doesn't stop you from smacking his knee. "I dunno what you're talking about. That kiss was real to me."

"I'm serious, Pete."

He hums. You're so, so tempted to look back and see what he's thinking, but it would give you away too easily. "It was... it was a kiss. I mean, Gwen- you know. You know. I was crazy about her. I didn't think I just... kissed her."

"How did it feel? Do you know?"

"I felt like I needed to do it. I felt like if I didn't, I'd throw up. Not actually, just... like I'd explode with all the feelings I had for her."

Your finger hovers over a tweet. In your wondering about that feeling of almost nearly exploding, you try to picture that rooftop kiss that Peter had relayed to you between classes, with hushed whispers and childish laughter. It was windy, and I was breathless, he'd said, and I wanted to lay myself bare. And I just... pulled her in. Shot a web and swept her up and kissed her. I think I've lost my mind. You remembered pressing your back against the school lockers to cool yourself as you imagined the scene, the steps it took for you to settle the uneasy churn in the pit of your chest. The euphoria and panic upon realizing that your Peter was growing up.

You felt overwhelmed just imagining it. You barely hear Peter ask why you want to know. "No reason. Was just curious."

You think that Peter accepts that as good enough reason because the room is silent again. You keep scrolling, keep taking subtle deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. You see a picture of a couple on your timeline and scroll faster.

A few minutes of peace pass before Peter broaches the subject again, "What about you?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you've ever told me about your first kiss."

Your shoulders tense. No good effort hides the strain in your voice, "I haven't?"

A beat passes. You glance over your shoulder and see Peter staring right at you, his lips upturned in a small, resting smile, but his eyes are inquiring. He's trying to read you. Perhaps he's just noticed the heavy cloud hanging overhead. "Nope." He pops the "P". He's waiting.

You could lie. You could say it was Flash Thompson who stole it, mention that field trip to the zoo in middle school when he'd sneaked next to you at the peacock exhibit and pestered you about you and Peter. Peter wouldn't question Flash about it. Even if they'd made amends, any conversation about him would send him over the edge with memories of his childhood bully and how much he pitied you for having your first kiss with him. And all of you were far too old now; Flash Thompson had gone to another state to play football the minute he got his diploma. It'd be so inconsequential, such an easy lie.

But the longer it takes you to deliberate on it, the worse it makes you look. You should've offered up an answer easily, jovially, unbothered. It should be inconsequential. Anything more and Peter would call your bluff because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

At some point, you feel the brush of a lone finger at the base of your spine and it startles you. Peter's slipped his finger under your shirt, stroking along the middle of your back, "I won't laugh. If that's what you're thinking." He says softly.

Of course Peter wouldn't laugh at you. As much as your relationship was teasing, he knew where you were tender.

But it wasn't laughing you worried about.

"I know." You say, in lieu of a real answer. You fear you've given yourself away.

Now there are two fingers stroking your skin, "You don't... you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," but you can hear the discomfort in his voice when he says it, like the thought that it's something you don't want to tell him concerns him, "it's up to you."

Just lie. Your breath shudders and immediately you regret it. There's no way he hadn't heard that.

Before you can recover, you're feeling the heat of his entire hand on your back now as it slips further up, as he sits up in bed beside you and rests his chin on your shoulder. The closeness of his breath makes you feel claustrophobic all of a sudden, "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. Did I push? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

You struggle to shake your head, but now your eyes are burning again and you don't think you can stop the tears this time, "You didn't." You insist.

"You're crying, bub," he laughs (not mockingly, never mockingly, never when you cry) and reaches a thumb up to brush away the first warm tear, "what's wrong?"

There's a million things you could say. I've never been kissed before, I don't know what it feels like to be longed for like that, I want to be longed for like that, why haven't I been longed for like that? But it all feels so heavy. Peter picks his chin up to kiss your shoulder and that really does it, "It never happened."

Peter's lips still against your skin. Their warmth slowly peels away, though you feel his breath ghost over the curve of your bone, "What hasn't?"

"A kiss. A first kiss, Peter. I've never had one."

"That's..." Peter sounds almost shocked, disbelieving. He never picks up that thought.

You turn your head away and toss your phone onto the bed, no longer interested in pretending you could distract yourself with anything else. You try to shrug your shoulder out from underneath Peter's mouth but he's quick, the hand at your back locking around you and you can't escape him even though you want to, even though you need to get away from his sweet smile and lovely heartbeat that thuds a little faster against your side.

It was already so much to tell him you hadn't had your first kiss yet, to admit to your best friend who—despite popular Midtown High opinion—has always been so irresistible to lovers, that you haven't gone as far as something so... simple. Something teenagers running your old stomping grounds have probably experienced ten times over by now. You don't think you can handle his pity too, "Peter, please."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Everyone moves at their own pace."

You hiss through your teeth. You don't mean to, but the spite overwhelms you like red hot heat for a minute, "It's easy to say that when you've done it already."

You catch Peter's eye and immediately regret it. His untamed brows are drawn together, expression more analyzing than pitying. Even though you're brimming with feelings, he seems as if he's trying to wade through them, search for the gnarled root at the center of it all.

Then, and he says this so carefully that the meaning takes a moment to catch up with you, "There's nothing wrong with you."

It's the sincerity that does it. You shove his hand off of you, jerk away from him in a scramble to stand, but Peter is fast and lithe and he's always been two steps ahead of you even before the bite. He's up on his feet before even you are, coming to stand in your way when you go to grab for your bag, "Peter, move."

"Look, can we... can we talk about this?"

"I really don't want to. Move."

"Why are you shutting me out?"

"Because I want to go home. Move."

"Is it because of what I said?"

"Yes!" You blurt, growing frustrated the longer he blocks your path, "yes. Because I'm sick of being told there's nothing wrong with me when clearly..." Your voice tapers off, afraid to give him the reason he needs to worry about you, "Please. I'm just tired. It'll go away on its own, it always does, I just can't be here right now."

The standoff between you two lingers, feels like you might have to fight him just to escape. It takes everything in you just to keep eye contact with him and not burst into tears.

Peter clearly doesn't want to let you go. You can see that genius brain of his running every possible scenario in his mind in which he convinces you to stay, cry it out, leave happier than you came. None of them come soon enough. You brush past him when he realizes he's got nothing, and even the hand that grabs for you is halfhearted, shrugged off with little force.

"I'll see you later, Pete."

You let his front door shut on its own.

It hasn't been great.

What typically took a few hours to shake off had settled over you like a dark cloud ever since you'd stormed out of Peter's place. Even though you texted him like everything was fine (and dodged any phone calls so he wouldn't hear the truth with those freakishly good best friend senses of his), you had yet to see him again. Had yet to let yourself be seen.

You told yourself that it was just you missing Peter, and you believed that to be true, but you also believed that when he looked you in the eye and told you "there's nothing wrong with you", you hadn't been prepared for the nakedness of it all. He'd dug deep, right to the source. That kind of thing was hard to move past.

So you avoided him. If he came by your place, you pretended you weren't home. If he showed up at your work to take you to coffee, you lied and told him you had plans with a coworker. It had been several days now and you felt more and more cowardly by the minute.

It was Peter. Of all people, it was Peter. Your best friend. You could tell him anything (most things, some kept a little closer to the heart). You should be able to.

And it was silly. Being embarrassed about not kissing anyone. Plenty of people were in the same boat as you and they didn't ice their best friend out about it.

Ugh, now you were just making yourself feel worse.

You'd had enough. You'd end this pity party today. As you make your way through your apartment door, you promise yourself that after you've showered, after you've made yourself a filling dinner, after you've settled into bed, you'd call Peter and ask him to meet for pizza this weekend. You'd talk like civil adults who understand that life isn't a race. You'd share your couch, laugh about the whole thing, and maybe, just maybe, the hollowness in your chest that longed for someone's desire to fill it would finally-

He's sitting in your kitchen.

Legs dangling off the island, mask rolled up to his nose, and a spoon clattering out of his mouth and into a bowl of ice cream. Your front door shuts gently behind you.

You stare at each other for a few seconds. Then you glance through your bedroom door, cracked open just enough for you to see the breeze rustling your curtains. You turn back to Peter, who's cleaning off his bottom lip of raspberry sorbet. "Did you climb through the window? You have a key."

Peter sets the bowl down beside him, shrugs, "You weren't returning my calls."

Your shoulders sag and you drop your things to the floor, "Peter-"

"No, no," you watch him slide off the countertop and bounce over to you, and the nearness you aren't prepared for makes you back away an inch or two, "No Peter. I'm not Peter. I'm Spider-Man. See?" He gestures to the suit.

You reach your hand up and pinch his exposed cheek, then narrowly avoid his teeth before he tries to nip you, "I'm not in the mood. I said I'd call you later, I'm just... busy."

"Busy avoiding your best friend."

You can feel him trail after you as you walk away, beginning to undress. He catches your coat when you throw it toward the couch and hangs it up all neat on a hook. He kicks your shoes to a wall and tugs your belt from your fingertips once you've undone it. Then, unexpectedly, he hooks said belt around your waist and yanks you back to face him.

The momentum throws you fully into his chest but he's sturdy, unmoving as you grip his shoulders and give him the most hostile look you can muster. You attempt to wiggle out of the trap but he pulls the belt tighter, forcing you closer, and then you start to panic as the space between you both disappears, "I haven't been avoiding you, I just needed space." You quickly explain.

"And I get that," he admits, "but you scared me. I've never seen you like that before. Not with me. Not ever."

Of course he hadn't. It was why you kept all of this a secret in the first place. Because you knew he'd worry, and you knew that there would be nothing he could do to fix it. Not like he usually could.

"It was a... brief lapse in self-esteem. That's all. You're making it into a bigger deal than it should be."

"It's not a big deal?"

"No! That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So it doesn't matter at all."

"Correct."

"Right."

"It's just an arbitrary milestone that means nothing." You grip the leather of your belt but you're nothing against his superhuman strength. Pleading with your eyes, you do your best not to slip back into that vulnerable place all over again. Peter made you feel safe to do that. Way too safe to do that. "I promise. I'm not avoiding you."

You get sick of staring into the whites of his mask and so you grab the edge of it and pull it up to his hairline, little tufts of curls poking out as his face is fully revealed to you. You stare into those sharp, probing eyes of his, forcing yourself to stand the test of Peter Parker's perception.

Suddenly, you're released.

You stumble back a bit, the belt clanking against the floor, as Peter throws his arms up in defeat, "Alright, alright. I get it. I should've let you breathe the other night. I was just worried, is all."

You smile, "And I appreciate that."

Peter quickly glances at you and then away, making an exaggerated show of kicking imaginary dust off the floor. "First kisses really mean nothing then, huh?"

"Zilch. Nada."

"So... doesn't matter when it is, who it is..."

You watch him carefully, "If this is about when we were six-"

"No, no, I know that didn't count. You don't even remember it," his face contorts in a wince, "I was just thinking. Something."

Your eyes narrow, "Uh-huh."

"Well, I mean, is that why? Because you don't remember it? Or... is it because it was me?"

"The kiss?" Peter blows a raspberry, looking more bashful by the second, and nods without looking at you. "It's... it's because we were six. And we didn't know what we were doing. I was just mimicking what we saw. We didn't know anything."

"And now we do."

"Yeah. What are you getting at, Pete?"

He sits on the back of your couch and kicks his feet out in front of him. "If all that matters is that we both know what we're doing, and a first kiss is just a meaningless milestone to you, then I thought that maybe we could give it another go. You know. So when a real kiss comes along that actually means something, you'll have an idea of how it's supposed to go."

You're six years old again.

You and Peter Parker are sitting in the dirt, mouths covered in sticky ice cream that the summer sun melted right up. You're both talking about Flash Thompson's trip to Florida and the hilarious sunburn he came back with when you spot an elderly couple across the park, pressing their mouths together over and over.

You're looking over at Peter and asking about it, sure it couldn't possibly feel good, and he's telling you that when Uncle Ben kisses May good morning in the kitchen he always looks away because it's gross.

And you're thinking... you start thinking something.

You're thinking it would be funny—that Peter would hate you for it, but you're just so curious—and you're pressing your lips to his so quickly that he doesn't get a chance to pull back before you're giggling in the grass. And May's voice flutters in the background, a shrill and delighted, "I caught that!" that makes you both turn tail and run toward the swings.

Peter's still staring at you, waiting.

Part of you feels like it's pity. Like he doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Like he doesn't know how else to fix it, because he has to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to be your hero.

But the other part? A restless and selfish part wants to take it; it's curious.

You take a step forward, the two of you watching each other, waiting to see if the other might back out at the last second. He stays exactly where he is, legs parting slowly, and the silent invitation makes you feel hot under the collar.

When you're standing between them, you feel his knees bump your legs on either side, his hands planted firmly into the couch cushions. You notice the grip he has on them, "Are you sure?" You pause.

Peter tilts his head in that strange, spider-like way. As if he cannot fathom why would you ask such a thing, "Of course. I'm the one who offered."

Your hands shake as they consider where to put themselves, and you get about halfway to his shoulders before he takes them and places them on either side of his face, mumbling something about how it might help you feel more in control, quell your nerves a bit.

Peter's cheeks feel so warm in your hands, and you can feel each swallow he makes the longer you take in his expression. "Should... I move in first? Or..."

He laughs, short and high-pitched, "I guess I can go first."

You know you're supposed to close your eyes, but as he comes in close, you can't help but keep them lidded, taking in every twitch of his mouth as he inclines his neck, shuts his eyes, and kisses you.

Your brain reacts a half-second after his lips touch yours. You've probably stopped breathing, and you have to force your lips to unstiffen so that you could actually feel him. His lips are a little wet—he'd been rolling his bottom lip between his teeth since he'd sat down—and they taste faintly of raspberry. They're not cold though, and the feeling isn't unpleasant.

You don't know how to react to it, don't know if you should move or not, and so instead you curl your fingers into the silk of his nape and wait for the pounding in your chest to stop.

You feel him mouth at your bottom lip just once, and then pull back. "How'd that feel?"

You recall the sensations that went through your brain (all that it can recall anyway, when Peter's looking at you like that), "Slimy...?"

Peter's face falls, and then he bursts into laughter, shakes with the force of it, and drops his head on your shoulder. "There's got to be a better word than that."

"I don't know! I was just thinking about the feeling."

"I don't want to know what it felt like, I want to know how it made you feel. Did you like it? Hate it?"

"I don't know. I'm- I'm nervous."

"Hey, that's okay," his hand rubs your hip, warming the skin there, and you find yourself leaning into it for comfort, "everyone is their first time."

Peter is so, so gentle. Your heart feels like it might give out, but a little less now that it's over and he's not looking at you in disgust. You don't know what you expected, but... this was better. By far. That part of you that felt selfish takes over again, "Can we try again?"

His eyes widen a bit, but he's immediately nodding, "Okay. Yeah. Okay. We can try as- as many times as you want."

You nearly choke on your spit. "Can we?" Your voice comes out a meek whisper.

Peter nods. He brings his legs in so that he's sitting properly now. "Of course. You wanna move me? I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit if you want."

"No, I like you here," you say, feeling your stomach tighten when his thighs lock against your legs, "um. Is there anything I can work on? How did I feel?"

"Warm. Soft. Just try to loosen up, alright?"

You force yourself to release the tension in your body and move in first this time. Images of rom-com kisses flood your brain, how you memorized their rhythms and the placement of their mouths. You try your best to mimic it, make it feel as good as it seemed to look, when you feel one of Peter's hands slip behind your head and angle you away just a hair, "You're tensing up," he warns, making you pause, "it doesn't have to be perfect. It's just you and me. Breathe for me, okay? Turn your brain off."

You feel your stomach flip a bit, and nod along mindlessly. You try again.

This time, it feels a little different. Not wet or stiff, even if it is still awkward. It almost overwhelms you when, as you're mouthing at Peter's lip, he returns the favor, but you keep your brain empty. You can't focus on the details because it won't feel right. You can't focus on the way it looks because it won't feel right.

So you focus on Peter. You focus on the hand on your hip drawing you closer and the hand on your neck rubbing circles into the knot there. You focus on the feeling of his suit under your pinkies. You focus on the small hum he makes when, with quite a bit of building up to it, you pass your tongue over his.

Almost as soon as you do it, you pull back. Peter is flushed and it makes the beauty marks on his skin stand out more. His eyelashes flutter, a half-smile on his lips that are kissed red. By you.

You open your mouth to ask but he beats you to it, "I think you've got it now... yeah. Definitely." You're so relieved you sigh, sagging away from him, but he catches your hands before they can can leave his face completely and holds them in his lap. You don't dare move them. "How about you? Did you like it?"

You nod, speechless.

Peter laughs and squeezes your hands in his, "Okay, good. Good. I love you, you know? I know it doesn't... replace what you're looking for, but you're wonderful. You're insane and funny and stunning and there's nothing wrong... you know? You're perfect. Take it from your loser best friend who had to get bit by a radioactive spider to get to first base."

You snort, "I mean, if that's all it takes..."

Peter shakes his head and stands, but his hand remains on your neck as you follow his eyes to his full height, "So, we good? No more ignoring me?" You bite your lip, nodding your head. Peter smiles. "Good, cause I'm starving and I need you to split a pizza with me."

"You just polished off a tub of ice cream and you're still hungry?"

"I'm a growing spider, honey. And I missed you." Without warning, the hand on your hip hooks around your back and hoists you into his body, throwing you off balance once more, "I'll swing us there and cover cheese sticks too. Sound good?"

You know you don't have much room to argue when he's being so generous. And not when he's beaming at you, so genuinely relieved to have you back that it would knock you off your feet if he wasn't holding you up.

He was right; this wouldn't replace what you were looking for, but it gets pretty damn close. Closer than you expected, actually. But it's just the adrenaline. This didn't change anything.

Did it? You stare up at Peter.

"We can try as many times as you want."

You might have a very different problem than you started with.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[nartothelar]

I just had a thought while thinking about your possession au.

So I know you posted some joke art about Ingo confronting a Zoroark acting as his (possessed) brother, but what if the Zoroark WAS trying this time.

So imagine ; Ingo with maybe Lady Sneasler and Irida walking through the Alabaster Icelands, and they get confronted with a Zoroark. It takes Emmet's form and starts terrorizing Ingo, taunting him with "You'd never hurt me!" and everything F!Emmet said before.

And Irida watches as Ingo, her cool and collected if a tad lost warden just... shrink back in fear.

Now just about any sane person would be afraid of a Zoroark, but she can tell that this is MUCH more than just that. This is *personal*. He normally never hesitates fighting Zoroarks when they take the forms of others, but this time he is terrified of hurting the man behind the illusion, and of the man himself.

Judging from everything the illusion of Emmet is shouting (even illusions and how they behave have *some* truth to them), and the way Ingo is terrified, she deduces that maybe the place or family Ingo originally came from wasn't ideal, to say the least. Ingo frantically telling Irida that he loves his supposed abuser only reaffirms her concerns.

Eventually, this becomes somewhat of an open secret among both clans that Ingo's 'man in white' is, to say the least, not good. And how is Ingo supposed to dispute that? He loves this person, and he vaguely feels protective of him, but he also feels afraid whenever he think of him.

Cue Emmet somehow getting into Hisui.

For some extra angst, he took care of his F!Emmet situation, somehow. (Maybe when they both went to Dialga to go to Hisui, he went 'wait a moment, you're not supposed to be there' and separated them)

Naturally, when Irida finds out that the man in white is actually here, she panics. Everyone tries to a. Keep Emmet from finding out Ingo is even here (which doesn't work, he came here KNOWING Ingo is here so he can tell everyones lying to him), b. Know Emmet's location at all times, so that c. They can steer Ingo in the opposite direction of where Emmet is, for his own safety until they can either get Emmet to go back to where he came from, or do some (incredibly biased) investigation.

Cause Sinnoh help them if Emmet IS actually as bad as they suspect, cause if he is even half as good as Ingo, then the amount of people who could potentially stop him can he counted on one hand.

Sure, he SEEMS nice if a tad intense, worrying about his brother, but who's to say he's not just a good actor?

I dunno, maybe the climax is Emmet finding Ingo but the Ingo protection squad (consisting of Irida, Sneasler, etc.) is keeping him back and throwing the not completely baseless accusations at Emmet, him saying "hey I was possessed by a future alternate version of myself, but hes gone now I swear" ("well that's awfully convenient"), and Ingo has NO IDEA what do to (cause he said that once, didn't he? He said that the thing was gone, but then it wasn't, so he has no idea if he can fully trust him or not).

OR, F!Emmet arrives still in Emmet's body and just starts tearing through everything to find Ingo. He's an unstoppable force that will not stop until he finds his brother. And he is nearly everything that Zoroark showed Irida. They are desperately trying to keep Ingo away from him, to no avail.

What're your thoughts on this? Do with all this what you want, and thanks for reading my rant.

OK SO THIS WOULDN'T BE CANON PER SAY (more like an offshoot au?) BUT SOME INTROSPECTION ->

so i might have explored this very idea in a couple of discord dms! but for the most part, yes, ingo would be very much scared of the man in white/the zoroark since his last days with emmet were very much tainted with future emmet's influence, but i wouldn't say f!emmet went so far as to abuse him - emotionally torment for sure tho. still, ingo would very much react, even with amnesia, with a sense of fear and apprehension to seeing him. mixed and very confusing feelings

when emmet does finally get to ingo in hisui in the actual au, him and his future self has actually teamed up (as the last installation suggests). that isn't to say emmet is angry at his future self (bc he is FURIOUS even now at how his future self treated ingo and made the last few weeks he had with his sibling so miserable for everyone) but they have a sort of ceasefire since they want the same thing rn

but similar to your ask, ingo doesn't react positively. he still doesn't remember much but he knows that: 1) he knows this figure and that he is someone important to him 2) does not want any harm to come to him 3) he, for the life of him, is scared of him. the clan is rightfully ultra suspicious of them and maybe puts him on watch (and maybe subjecting him to various interrogative talks to get him to explain everything) that the emmets accept without much fight -> f!emmet feeling extremely guilty for what he has done and believes he deserves the treatment/deserves to not be forgiven + emmet knows that the clan is protecting his brother and can't fault them for handling the way they do

f!emmet and emmet both have a lot of work to do if they want things to go back to the way they were, if they even can

BUT YEAH VERRRRRRRY LONG RAMBLE BUT VERRRY INTERESTING NONETHELESS SKSKK

[luvkyu]

my love, i still ( mark lee ) part two

mark x male reader

mark is a mess, but he'd never say that out loud.

content : 2.4k words, angst, idol!mark x manager!reader, ex-relationship, some riize, mk is v sweet but the ending will make u guys hate me i fear

part one

"what the hell.." y/n mumbled to himself.

"get it out, get it out!!" anton shouted annoyedly.

"i'm trying!" wonbin screamed back.

y/n watched the scene in front of him. he'd just arrived at riize's dorm to find that somehow wonbin and sohee had gotten anton's foot stuck in their sofa, though wonbin denied any fault in the situation.

"how do you even get a foot stuck in a sofa?" y/n asked tiredly.

"we were trying to prank him, but it just- y'know what, nevermind," sohee gave up on explaining. anton looked down at him with a death glare.

"i don't even know what happened," anton added.

wonbin held the cushions back while sohee tried to maneuver his groupmate's foot out of the sofa springs.

"i feel like i should be helping but i'm having a good time just watching," y/n snickered.

"hyung!" anton whined.

"alright, alright," y/n gave in. just as he was about to help, sohee finally pulled anton's foot out.

"i'm just glad you're wearing socks," wonbin grumbled.

anton rolled his eyes and stomped off to his room.

"anyways, hi y/n!!" wonbin enthused, he and sohee rushing to hug their manager.

"nah, get away from me you troublemakers."

"i told you, sohee did it, not me!!" wonbin defended.

y/n rolled his eyes and hugged the two of them anyways.

"okay, here's your lunch. your schedules are clear for the rest of the day so make sure to rest enough. tomorrow's gonna be a much longer day," y/n said as he set their bags of food on the table. "sohee, can you go get the others?"

sohee quickly nodded and skipped off to retrieve the rest of his members for lunch.

y/n sat down by wonbin and pulled out his phone. he smiled upon seeing a message from mark.

mark :

hey :) we still on for coffee tonight?

y/n :

yes :) sys !!

mark :

okay cool 🤍

y/n sighed and set his phone down. by now, the rest of the group had filtered out into the common room for their food. y/n looked up to see shotaro giving him a smug stare.

"what..?" y/n asked.

"who's got you smiling at your phone like that?" shotaro teased.

"oooh! manager hyung has a girlfriend!" wonbin cheered.

y/n's nose scrunched up in disgust, "girlfriend??"

wonbin's grin faltered, looking between y/n and shotaro - who busted into a fit of laughter that filled their dorm instantly.

"i'm gay, bin," y/n clarified.

wonbin's eyes widened. he quickly covered his mouth to hide his fallen jaw.

"oh, i'm sorry!! you have a boyfriend then!"

y/n chuckled. "no, nothing like that."

"tsk. what a lie," shotaro insisted.

y/n sighed and shook his head. "you guys are so nosy. i'm gonna head out now for some errands. i'll be back late, but call me if you need anything."

"boooo," shotaro pouted.

"remember we need to leave at seven in the morning tomorrow. be ready to go, please," y/n added.

the boys muttered responses as their manager finally departed from their dorm.

"is it true he and mark dated?" eunseok asked.

"i dunno for sure," shotaro answered.

"wait, what??" wonbin was very confused. he almost felt left out. "there's a y/n and mark theory??"

"yeah, but i'd rather not talk too much about it when he's not here."

wonbin frowned at his leader's reply. "i guess that's fair."

"are you and y/n getting back together??" chenle asked excitedly. jeno and renjun stood with him, eyes wide with hope.

mark freezed and in tracks. he was about to leave to meet y/n for their coffee 'date'. he wasn't quite sure what to call it.

"..we're just going for some coffee," mark replied.

".." chenle stared at him. "you didn't answer my question."

mark thought for a second. "oh.. no, i guess..?"

chenle frowned. renjun patted their leader's shoulder from beside him.

"we'll take that as a maybe," he concluded instead. mark rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys to finally leave.

"what's going on?" jisung asked. his brows furrowed at the sight of three of his group members crowded around mark like little gremlins.

"we were asking if mark's getting back together with y/n."

jisung looked at mark and smiled, "of course he is."

"see!!" renjun cheered.

mark would've scoffed and bid his friends goodbye by now, but he was a bit taken back by jisung's sincere reply. the youngest was now comfy on the floor against the couch with his phone in hand, as if his statement was no news to anyone.

jisung felt his leader's eyes on him after a moment. he looked over at mark before lowering his phone.

"what? you are, right?" jisung asked. "..it's y/n. he's it for you. everyone knows that."

mark blinked. he looked back to the other boys, who clearly agreed with jisung.

"i'll see you guys later," mark said with a shake of his head.

jisung's mouth twitched downwards as he stared after mark. he then looked at his groupmates, worried.

"did i upset him..?"

"you didn't upset him. i think he's still figuring out what the fuck he's doing," jeno assured.

"well, he should hurry up," jisung muttered before going back to his phone.

mark stared at his feet as he walked out of the dorm. he knew his friends liked teasing him, but it was like their words were really starting to hit the target.

his watch showed a quarter til ten o'clock, fifteen minutes before he and y/n were supposed to meet at the coffee shop. mark could feel goosebumps on his skin. he hadn't been this nervous in a while.

the coffee shop was a small one; a little hole-in-the-wall of a store. mark found it very cozy and safe, and he was pretty sure y/n would feel the same. he just hoped meeting at the late hour would help them avoid other people for the most part.

once he arrived, he recognized y/n sitting at a table in the corner. the lighting was dim and the smell of coffee beans made the atmosphere even more relaxed.

y/n's eyes fell on mark as he sat across from him in all his glory. y/n felt his heartbeat pick up when he saw that mark was wearing his glasses.

"hi," mark spoke with a cheesy grin.

"hi," y/n smiled. "i haven't seen your glasses in forever."

mark's eyes widened as his hand reached up to adjust the frames sitting on his nose. he chuckled nervously.

"oh, yeah, sorry. i was having a lazy night. i kinda forgot i was even wearing them."

"don't be sorry," y/n smiled again, "i love your glasses."

"really?"

y/n nodded.

"oh.. well, i'll keep that in mind then." a light blush rose on mark's cheeks as he looked down at the table. the whole situation felt a bit weird if he was honest. it felt like they were just meeting for the first time again.

"so how're the guys?" y/n spoke up. although the question was mostly to fill the awkward silence, he was genuinely interested in hearing about the other dream members.

"they're good! jisung is thinking about getting a pet."

"oh cool! does he know what he wants? like what animal?" y/n asked further.

"not yet," mark shook his head. "do you still have your cat?"

"mhm!" y/n replied. mark loved watching the way his eyes lit up. y/n's cat was about the sweetest animal he'd met before, always cuddly and gentle. "she's adjusting to moving back from japan, but i think she's doing okay with it."

"that's good then," mark smiled. "and how's working with riize?"

"it's, um.. interesting!" y/n joked. mark laughed along while nodding.

"no, they're great," y/n continued. "wonbin is very.. baby. and sungchan has this ideology that no one will care if he goes around the dorm barely clothed."

mark burst out laughing at that, causing y/n to laugh along.

"what, does he walk around in his underwear, or..??" mark asked.

y/n nodded. "sometimes not even underwear. sometimes he'll be naked under a robe but he won't pay attention to when it gets loose or moves the wrong way. he's something else.."

mark kept laughing at the image of sungchan strutting around the dorm in just a robe.

"god, that's funny. jaemin taught him well, i guess."

"jaemin is worse," y/n laughed again, making mark's brows raise. "yeah, jaemin does it cause he knows he's hot. sungchan just doesn't care enough to clothe himself."

the two continued laughing at their table. their faces grew red as they clutched their stomachs and sat back in their seats trying to catch a breath.

mark sighed, looking at y/n with a fond smile. "i missed you."

y/n smiled and looked down, "i missed you too, mark."

"..i'm sorry for the way things ended."

y/n's smile faded a bit. he quickly shook his head at the apology.

"don't be. we both handled it as best we could."

"mm," mark hummed. he didn't agree. "but i could've done more. i feel like i let you down back then. i never thought we'd be apart and then when you were gone.. i don't know. the year you were away might have been the worst year of my life."

y/n looked at him, unsure of what to say. mark kept eye contact, refusing to back down like he normally would.

"after you left," mark began again, "there were multiple times when i would go to your old apartment building and just sit outside. like i was waiting for you to come back home. i knew i was kidding myself, but.. somehow it was comforting. like, that was the closest i could possibly get to you, so it was okay."

y/n felt like crying.

"how can you be so sweet and so depressing at the same time?" y/n asked with a small chuckle.

"sorry," mark smiled. "i didn't invite you out to be this sad. we can talk about something else."

"no, it's okay. it's good to talk about that stuff, i don't mind."

mark took a deep breath and nodded.

"so are you living with riize? or do you get your own place?"

"i'm with the boys for now. i don't mind it much, honestly. i like taking care of them."

mark smiled and nodded. he expected as much.

"well, how was japan then? was the work very different?"

y/n thought for a moment. "it was different, yes. definitely took some getting used to. y'know, going from taking care of seven dreamies to just minding my business was odd."

mark nodded, "they'd love to see you. we should all do something sometime."

"yes please."

it was quiet again for a moment. not awkward, just quiet.

"oh, do you want some tea or anything? i think i'll get a drink now."

mark watched y/n get his wallet out while glancing at the menu list that hung by the shop's counter.

"no, i'm okay. thank you."

y/n nodded and opened his wallet, still trying to see the menu so he wouldn't have to stand idly by the register.

a familiar picture caught mark's eye after a second. a polaroid was sticking out of y/n's wallet. it was the polaroid they took together at incheon airport. dream's flight was delayed, so he and y/n walked around for a bit to pass the time. it was pretty empty thanks to the early morning. they found an unoccupied gate and sat alone for a bit, talking and laughing. it was the most fun mark had ever had at an airport.

"you kept it?" mark asked.

"hm?" y/n followed the male's gaze down to the photo. he grinned and took it out. "oh.. of course i did."

mark felt tears prick at his eyes as he held the small polaroid in his hands. they looked so happy it made his heart ache.

mark was handing the photo back to y/n when he felt a chill go down his spine. he spotted someone in the corner of his eye taking pictures. or videos, who knew. it was definitely just a fan, but it was still unsettling. y/n watched mark cross his arms and adjust his mask in silence.

"is something wrong?" y/n asked.

mark didn't reply, only giving a glance to the fan that was holding their phone up at the other side of the shop.

"damn it. let's just go." y/n was quick to return his wallet to his pocket as he and mark got up and hurried out.

"you okay?" y/n checked in. they were now just walking along the street together. mark exhaled and nodded. he pulled his mask down and looked at y/n with a grateful smile.

"i'm fine. thank you."

y/n grinned and nodded back.

it was quiet again for a minute or so. the pair just enjoyed the gentle breeze and the sounds of the nighttime . mark's thoughts started to get the best of him as he glanced over at y/n a couple times.

"can i ask..?" mark trailed off, unsure of himself.

"hm?"

"do you ever, um.. do you think things could, like, be the way they used to be..?"

y/n's breath became a little staggered. "you mean with us?"

mark nodded.

"oh.. mm," y/n didn't know exactly what to say. he would be lying if he said he was over his feelings for mark. but things could get complicated and messy very fast if they weren't careful.

"i don't know.."

mark nodded again. he could feel a lump forming in his throat as he looked away from y/n now.

"that's okay. i don't want to push anything," mark looked up at the moon as he spoke. "you'll always mean a lot to me, y/n. i really do love you."

y/n slipped his hands into his pockets, gazing down at his feet. mark was about to make him cry if he didn't stop soon.

"i think i'll always love you," y/n said quietly. mark finally looked back over at him with a bittersweet smile.

"should we just.. try to move on now? just try to be friends?" mark asked.

"i guess," y/n replied with a small sigh. he wasn't sure what moving on would mean, but he was hoping it was for the better.

they continued to walk together without talking much more, just enjoying each other's company while they could.

[pullhisteeth]

Hi, lovely! Just wanted to drop by and say that I miss you and your amazing writing 🥹🧡 I understand if you're taking a break or stepping away from the app, but if you're up for it, I was wondering if I could drop in a request? No pressure at all! I REALLY love the way you write fluffy and angsty fics so I was wondering if you could write about a besties-to-lovers with Eddie where he asks the reader for help with asking a different girl out, without knowing about reader's feelings for him...and then along the way he realizes his feelings for the reader hehe and maybe a lil sprinkle of jealous!Eddie too 😎 Ily and I hope you're doing okay! 🩷🩷🩷

hi my love! this is the sweetest message thank you - not taking an intentional break, just busy as anything. work’s been my whole life the past couple weeks (today is actually my first day off in like a month) and what with that and trying to eat/sleep/speak to other human beings I am …… deceased

it’s so kind of you to say hello! I loved writing your request, it was a nice break for my brain and it felt good to get back into it. ♡ love you!

contains hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. tried to get some jealous!eddie in there for you :-)

3.4k

-

Eddie looks pretty like this.

He’s sitting at your desk in the library. You’re not sure why he’s here, though that wasn’t your first thought when you spotted him on your way over. He’s hunched over slightly, unruly hair keeping his face hidden, but it’s catching the light of the afternoon sun just right and it’s glowing a blushing golden and the flutters in your gut are relentless.

“Hey,” you murmur, wary of both startling him, and the strict Hawkins Library warden who likes to shush people like it’s a sport. Regardless he starts, shoulders jumping and face whipping up and around to look at you with wide, surprised eyes that soften when he realises who you are.

“Hi, sugar,” he says, voice ebbing as he notices how loud he’s being. He looks around quickly, just in case he’s about to get scolded, before looking back up at you and beaming. It doesn’t fool you, though; his presence here coupled with the sheen of anxiety behind his eyes gives him away.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, setting your backpack down on the table and taking the seat opposite him.

He begins fiddling with his ring again and diverts his eye. He’s nervous and you want to know how to fix it more than you wish to let on.

You hum an encouraging noise when he says nothing, sliding textbooks out of your bag along with your pens.

“I, uh… I need your help,” he says warily.

“Oh? With what?”

“I want to, uh… I wanna ask Tara out,” he says, and the words come out in one quick breath, his eyes still on his hands. “But I dunno how.”

You’re quiet, busy hands halting with a book halfway open. You look at him, mouth agape, for a second too long - he looks up after a beat and catches you before you have the sense to close it.

“Please?” he begs, those eyes like a puppy dog, wide and brown and far too lovable. “I’d take her to the Hawk but she’s- Man, she’s way too cool, it’s intimidating, and I really wanna impress her, you know? And I think the Hawk’ll be too busy on Friday ‘cause I know that new movie’s out that all the kids wanna see, so what if-”

“Okay,” you say. You’re sharp, voice like a whip, cutting him off before he derails.

He looks at you blankly for a second before saying, “Really? Shit, thank you.”

You look down at the books in front of you, eyes on the printed pages but taking nothing in. “Take her to the Garage,” you tell him quietly.

“What?”

“The Garage,” you repeat, closing the textbook and piling it on top of the others to return them to your bag. “It’s on the east side, on the road out.”

“Yeah, I know where the Garage is, but- Wait, are you headin’ out already? You just got here.”

“Don’t feel like studying,” you say flatly. “The Garage is cool. Rob took me there once. Tara’d love it.”

“Hey, hey-” His restless hands reach over to grip your wrist, to stop you moving, but you’re slippery and quick and far too determined on leaving. “You don’t have to leave, I’ll leave you alone. Your exam’s next week, I don’t wanna-”

“It’s fine, Eddie, I’ll study tomorrow.”

“But-”

“See you around,” you say quickly, tugging on the zipper on your bag and standing so fast it makes your head spin. You can hear him protesting behind you but it’s no use - the only place you want to be right now is home.

-

Eddie doesn’t call that evening. He doesn’t call the next day either, or the two following that. You float between your bed, the fridge and various shifts at work without so much as daring to call him yourself, though you lie awake at night and worry you’ve done something terrible, something earth-shatteringly cruel by leaving him like you did. Something so bad that twelve years of friendship is lost forever.

“Maybe it’s better like this,” you tell Nancy over the phone. It’s Thursday night, four days until your exam, and you haven’t spoken to Eddie since Sunday. “I was gonna spend forever like that. Maybe now I can move on or somethin’.”

“We both know you’re not going to move on,” she tells you. You groan, turning over onto your back to stare at your bedroom ceiling. Your bed is like a rotten pit, unmade for nearly a week and the past five days’ dirty (and clean) laundry is littered all over the top of the comforter. “And you shouldn’t. You’d just be hiding from your feelings.”

“I hate you,” you tell her, though the way your voice comes out through your smile deceives you. “You always sound so wise, how is that?”

“I am wise,” she says, smiling too. “And I’m wise enough to know that Eddie feels the same, even if he doesn’t realise it yet. Apparently I’ve got the brains for both of us, ‘cause he’s a bit dumb like that sometimes.”

“I wish he wasn’t,” you whine, “I can’t get the image of him and Tara outta my head.”

“I can go, if you want,” she says.

“Huh?”

“I can take Rob to the Garage on Friday, keep an eye on stuff.”

“Shit, would you?”

“Yeah, why not? What’re you doing that night anyway?”

“Dunno,” you say, morose, “Probably heading to the library again.”

“Okay,” she says sympathetically. “You’re gonna smash this exam, you know that, right?”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grumble.”

“Well I know you will. And then Indiana State’ll have the best biologist known to man on their campus.”

“Funny,” you say.

“I’m wise and funny? You’re kind tonight.”

“I’m gonna go, Nance.”

“Okay,” she says, laughing. “I’ll call on Saturday, okay? And please eat some dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply, hanging up. You balance the receiver back on its stand and roll back over, willing the tears back when you feel them roll down your temples.

-

Friday nights are your favourite nights at the library.

Who else spends the one designated social evening of the week in a room designed for quiet? You, apparently, alongside two old ladies knitting in the comfy corner, and a kid who looks like he might be home from college for the holidays. You’re settled at your usual desk with textbooks and papers scattered everywhere - the tabletop, the chair next to you, the floor. You’ve been here for hours, pouring over all of your work, oblivious to most of the minimal movement and chatter happening in the room.

You’ve got a tape in your Walkman - classical, one your dad found at the record store downtown - so you feel Eddie before you see him. He startles you, his wide hand on your shoulder, and you jump, pulling your headphones down.

“Fucking hell,” you breathe, your heart beating a mile a minute. You twist in your seat and put your pen down, looking up at him. You couldn't worry about the warden if you tried, far too enamoured by him despite everything. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He’s hovering over you, his hair a mess and cheeks flushed pink. You notice he has his nice shirt on - a deep blue, so dark it’s almost black - and his lips are rosy.

“Tara needed the bathroom on the way home, this was the closest place. How’s it going?”

There’s a lilt to his voice that churns your stomach. It’s the one he gets at parties, or that night just before your birthday when the two of you drank wine in his living room and didn’t sleep until six in the morning.

He’s been drinking and, judging by the smell lingering on his clothes, smoking, too, and his smile and the pink blooming over his cheeks only makes the churning worse.

“Fine,” you tell him. “Was in the zone, sorry.”

“No,” he breathes, finally backing away. You fill your lungs and watch him as he rounds the table. His eyes keep moving from you to the door across the room, presumably watching for her. “I interrupted you, ‘m’sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Gotta run,” he says, face brightening in a way that makes you want to vomit. You turn back around and see Tara in the doorway, waving, beaming. “Don’t work too hard, please? Get some sleep. And eat something- Have you eaten at all today?”

He’s standing a foot or two from the table now, but he stops as he asks you this.

“Uh,” you look down at your watch. 12:07am. “I had lunch.”

“Shit, you need’ta eat something. Please.”

“Okay, Eds. I’ll have some toast when I get home. Have a nice night.”

“You’ve got this,” he says, and it’s here that the silly smile on his face falters. He still hasn’t moved, and you can see Tara looking over, watching. He’s looking at you and something breaks - his smile drops completely and his eyes go all sad and weird.

“What?” you ask, unamused.

“Nothing,” he says. “Nothing. Get some sleep okay? See you later.”

He turns and walks across to the exit, and you watch him leave. He’s slow and slumped, like someone’s just delivered bad news.

You head out fifteen minutes later, and chew unhappily on three slices of toast before you get to bed.

-

Studying until late is never a good idea.

You’re hopping around your bedroom, pulling stockings up your legs and praying to anything holy that the traffic on your way into work isn’t too bad.

“I know this isn’t really what you wanted to hear,” Nancy’s saying sadly. You’ve got the receiver propped between your cheek and your shoulder as you stumble around and stretch the cord within an inch of its life. “They just… It really did look like they were having fun.”

“He came to see me at the library,” you tell her breathlessly, desperate to think of anything but Eddie and Tara playing pool and laughing like lovedrunk teenagers

“What? When? Last night?”

“Yeah, said she needed a piss on the way home.” You stop hopping, both stockings finally in place, and take the phone in your hand. “He was really weird, actually.”

“Weird how?”

“I dunno. He seemed happy, but then he got all sad.”

“Did you tell him off?” she asks, faux-stern.

“No,” you tell her, “just told him I’d have dinner, and to have a good night.”

She hums, and you look at the clock.

“Shit, Nance, I’m sorry, I really gotta go, I’m gonna be so late-”

“No, no, you go, I’ll see you soon. And good luck on Monday, yeah? I know you’ll ace it.” -

Your body takes you to the library like it’s on auto-pilot or something. You finished the entrance exam three hours ago, and though it seemed to go okay, you daren’t be too optimistic. You’d hovered around town for a while, eating ice cream and watching birds, before your feet walked you right here: your desk on the first floor of Hawkins Library.

It’s here that you’ve been sitting for an hour or so, flicking through novels but finding no interest in the words on the page. Your brain is melted from a near-fatal combination overworking and overthinking, and without an exam to worry about, the latter is now the one clocking overtime.

You can’t get the picture of Eddie’s face out of your head. His eyes had been so sad, his face drooping like the dawning of some cruel realisation. The way he’d walked out of the room had matched it, sorrowful and curled over.

Worst of all, he hasn’t called.

There’s only two reasons you can think of. Firstly, he’s busy calling Tara instead of you. He’s telling her about his day, spinning new inside jokes and letting her hear his pretty laugh.

Or second: he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. You’re too cold, flat, uninteresting. Tara is cool.

There is a third possibility that you daren’t think about for the sake of your own heart: that both are true.

You slam the hardback in your hands shut and place it roughly on the table.

“Woah, was it that bad?”

You look up and find Eddie standing across from you, precisely where he’d been that moment something had changed on Friday. He’s far less put together now, dressed in his usual bedraggled jacket and jeans.

He laughs as you stare at him. After a minute, he takes the seat opposite and pulls the book towards himself.

“Weird choice for you, sugar.”

“Quiet,” you tell him in a whisper, nodding to your right where the warden is circling.

“Sorry,” he whispers back with a smile. “What’re you still doing here? Wasn’t the exam this morning?”

“I like it here,” you tell him. A half-truth - you do, but you’d really rather be anywhere else right now.

“Right,” he says, clearly not buying it. “And how’d it go?”

You shrug. “Okay, I think. I hope.”

“You’re the smartest person I know. You’ll do great.”

“I wish people would stop saying that,” you say, looking out of the window to your left.

“What? That you’re smart?”

“That I’ll ace it. I have no idea.”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “But you’ve definitely got a better idea than me.”

“What’s that mean?” you ask, turning back to look at him.

“I just… You’ve got more brains than me, that’s all.”

He’s fiddling with his rings again, eyes trained on the tentative movements of his fingers rather than you. It gives you a chance to take in his face properly: tired, sallow, unhappy.

“How was Friday?” you chance. He shrugs. “Just okay?”

“Fine, yeah,” he says, voice flat and unfeeling. “Had fun, ‘til we came here.”

Your instinct is to be offended. You didn’t say anything cruel or unwarranted; in fact you barely said a thing at all. How could you have ruined the evening?

“What?”

“Tara, she, uh… She said bye when we left. I was walkin’ her home, only stopped here for the can, I mean- You know we’re miles from the park, took me forever to get back to mine. Thought, y’know…” You hum so he doesn’t have to utter the inevitable and break your heart.

“What happened?” you ask softly, hands on the table in front of you like an offering.

He looks troubled, truly, and it hurts - you may have gone a week without contact, the longest since he went on a fishing trip with Wayne when you were both 18, but he’s your best friend, and his pain is your pain.

He closes his eyes tight and sucks in a breath.

“When we left, she said… She told me I need to ‘really think about things’, which made no sense to me at the time, I guess ‘cause I was, like, 4 whiskey sours in and we’d smoked on the way over, and then she used the payphone outside to call a cab so I waited with her and walked home, and the next morning I realised what she meant.”

You look at him with nothing to say. He takes another deep breath.

“She probably saw me over here with you, y’know, and I’m sure to other people we seem pretty… Comfortable. And then you said you hadn’t eaten, and you looked so tired, I- All I wanted to do was take you home and make you dinner. And then the next morning, and, like, all weekend, all I could think was that one day some other guy’d be doin’ that for you, some college guy or somethin’, and I’d have to watch, ‘cause you’re my friend.”

“Eddie, I don’t understand.”

You’re genuinely bewildered. He’s still whispering, or at least talking in a low voice, and at multiple points during the past five minutes you thought you’d completely misheard him. It’s definitely your Eddie sitting opposite you - he has a tendency to be a little dramatic, and this is certainly that - but he’s never been so brashly honest like this with you before.

“I had fun with Tara, really, but… I realised I’d spent all night thinking about how much better it’d have been if you’d been there.”

You can feel the flush like fire up your neck and across your cheeks. Your palms are clammy so you pull them inwards, back towards yourself, to save yourself the embarrassment.

“I think I need to get some air,” you say, standing and leaving without waiting for him.

You hear him behind you as you descend the stairs and push the clunky glass door open. You’re met with a wall of cold air and you breathe a heaving sigh as you stand in its frost.

The door opens again only a few seconds later, and you turn to face your friend.

“Eddie,” you begin, “I need to know that you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me.”

“You left your coat,” is all he says, handing you the jacket. You don’t move, too stunned, so he steps behind you and you let him manipulate your arms into the sleeves like a sullen child.

“Eddie,” you bite, impatient and frustrated.

“Yeah,” he breathes behind you. When the coat’s on, he squeezes your shoulders, and you round on him.

“Please just tell me what the fuck is going-”

“I think I love you,” he says, louder than you. It’s a declaration, said without hesitation or subtlety. It’s so confidently loud that a couple of people leaving the library turn to look.

“It shouldn’t have taken me taking someone else out to realise it, but fuck, once I did I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I guess ‘cause we see each other all the time I never really questioned why I think about you so often, or whatever, but… I wanted to take you home and make you dinner on Friday, make sure you got some sleep, fuckin’ look after you. Made me feel dumb as hell because you’re not a kid or anythin’, but I just want you to be okay.”

You’re not sure when you started crying. Maybe it was as early as the declaration itself, but you know that by the time he told you he wants to take care of you, tears were rolling over your cheeks, unstoppable and filled with elation.

“Shit,” Eddie whispers, stepping toward you without thinking, reaching out to hold you somehow. He settles for a hand on your upper arm, almost at your shoulder. “Fuck, I’m sorry, please don’t cry, I-”

“It’s fine, I’m okay, I’m, uh- I’m happy,” you say, giggling, your tears making it wetter, thicker. “They’re happy tears.”

“Oh, good,” he breathes, shoulders sloping. You spot the beginning of a grin through cloudy vision. “Thank god.”

While you wipe your face with the sleeve of your jumper, Eddie’s hand moves from your shoulder and to your neck. You feel the heavy weight of him pressing there, not threatening but a comfort. It forces you closer, until you’re both looking at each other and laughing.

“The exam went really well,” you tell him. “Honest.”

“I knew it would,” he says, curling a finger behind your ear to move a piece of hair from your face. “You’re gonna kill it at college.”

“I’ll miss you. And everyone else.”

“We’re not going anywhere any time soon,” he says softly, fingers dancing until he’s cradling your face. His other hand is stuffed in his pocket, and you’re close enough that you can reach in and grasp it, pulling it out so you can wind your fingers between his. He looks down and smiles.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. It’s almost a whisper and you almost miss it - almost. “For the exam, I mean. You did well, y’deserve a kiss.”

“Sure,” you say, laughing again. “For the exam, yeah.”

He chuckles before dipping his head just enough. You lift up to meet him halfway and he presses his lips to yours, firm but quick.

“Again,” you breathe, and he doesn’t ask questions. He bows again and kisses you, his force solid and homely. You kiss him back, breathless and keening.He’s warm and you want to take, take, take. You only stop when the door opens behind you again, creaking and followed by quick footsteps as someone else leaves.

Eddie kisses your nose and says, “Shit, you’re cold.”

“Can we go home?”

“No,” he says, and before you can finish protesting, he adds, “We have to celebrate. You’re done with studying! Let’s go get milkshakes or something.”

You wrinkle your nose, determined that you won’t be going to the diner you work in. “How about pizza?”

“Whatever you want, smartie pants.”

You physically bristle at the petname, cheeks flushing again despite the chill. Eddie’s arm settles around your shoulders and squeezes as he kisses your temple.

You stop walking once you reach the end of the block. He stops with you and turns to look at you without dropping your hand.

"I think I love you too, by the way," you tell him. "I didn't say- Back there, I should've said it. I- Well, I know I love you."

He smiles - beams - at your return of his declaration. He squeezes your hand in his and tugs.

"C'mon, pretty girl. Let's go."

-

[minustwofingers]

cool about it teaser

pairing: closetedfem!reader x ellie

request? yes, by @gold-dustwomxn (:

summary: life in the apocalypse is hard enough. the last thing you need is unrequited feelings for your best friend—who is very much off limits. so you'll just be cool about it. really cool about it. set in a loose interpretation of canon where i toy around with the timeline and storyline just the slightest and this is also a bit of a slowburn

warnings: ur closeted asf, queer angst, gross men, explicit language, substance use

a/n: hey guys i haven't really been posting much recently, but i wanted to at least post two scenes from this series so u guys have an idea of what to expect...also so u guys can tell me which one you want me to work on more (love is a laserquest or this one). i hope u enjoy...sorry this one is a little disjointed! (there are many events that happen between the two scenes im sharing w u as a little treat)

I. (opening scene)

The revelation that your feelings towards your best friend had become complicated arrives with the dead of winter. It’s strange, really, how something within you came to life just as the rest of the world began to die. 

If you were wiser, you’d find ways to explain it away, to rationalize all the weird thoughts in your head. You’d cite the chill in the air. The holiday spirit running through Jackson. The desolation that came with your only outdoor companions being the brown corpses of deciduous trees and infected that hadn’t frozen in the winter storms that kept battering Wyoming. 

But with age came wisdom, and both of those virtues were in short supply in a post-apocalyptic world. So, you resign yourself to cataloging away these feelings and pretending like everything was absolutely normal and cool. 

The bad thing about having good things, you think to yourself bitterly one day as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up as she rambles in her room as you sit on her bed about a comic book Joel had found her, is that they’re risky. High risk—high reward. Ellie was special to you in a way that no one else was. And using this logic, losing her would bring such an unforeseen devastation that you weren’t sure that you could go on. 

So, normal. Cool. Chill. Because you cannot afford to fuck this one up. 

“I love when you tell me about your comics,” you tell her in a way that’s definitely not sappy sweet and gooey. 

She smiles crookedly back at you. “You’re such a fucking liar. I know you couldn’t give a shit about these.” 

“Am not!” You throw a punch at her arm, feeling your heart twist as she just grins wider. “For the record, I do give a shit. Many, actually.”

“That sounds gross.” 

“Your words, not mine.” 

And it’s absolutely gut wrenching how she can just smile at you like that, like she’s not holding your heart in her fist.

“So, uh, Cat,” you blurt out. You’d been staring at her for too long. “Dina said that you two were—uh…” 

You wave your hand around in the air like you’re sifting through thousands of possible word combinations. In reality, you know exactly what you need to say to get the answer you’re searching for. You just don’t want to ask. 

“Well…” She blushes. Her eyes drop to her hands, where her fingers are toying with the bits of cuticle she hasn’t already torn off. 

“I knew it!” you croon, hoping that the boatload of dread that just dropped in your stomach isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Tell me everything.”

“Nothing to tell,” she says. “Nothing yet, at least. It’s stupid but—I just noticed that she hangs around me a lot, you know? And, like, touches me more than she needs to. Shit like that. I dunno.”

The wound deep inside you splits like the fake grin on your lips. “Wowwwww. Look at you!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean,” she says, her eyes twinkling conspiratorially, “What about Eddie? Jesse told me that you spend a lot of time with him.”

“We’re patrol partners,” you offer. It’s not a lie. You’re just choosing to omit the part where Eddie spends half his patrol staring longingly in your direction while you pretend not to notice. 

“I know that.”

“It’s…” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “I don’t know how I feel about that right now.” 

That’s not a lie either. Eddie is…nice. All the other girls like him, except for Dina (she has Jesse) and Ellie (she has another very obvious reason). He’s attractive. At least, that’s what Bonnie tells you. Apparently the buzzed hair and heavy bluntness found in all of his features is considered hot. 

But just because you’re not into him now doesn’t mean you could never be. That’s what your mother used to say about your father—she hadn’t liked him upon their first meeting. But it changed with time, and you’d rather have someone than be all alone. 

Ellie hums, picking at the cuticle of her thumb. “He likes you.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Well,” she says, “I heard Jesse’s putting on another bonfire tonight. Want to walk there together after dinner?” 

You spend another evening staring across the fire at your best friend, watching the warm glow of the flames warp and distort the shape of her and Cat, pressed up against each other and smiling wide. You aren’t sure why it makes you so uncomfortable to see them together. Homophobia? No. Maybe? You recently learned that that was a thing, but you don’t consider yourself bigoted, and being a homophobe is more of an opt-in situation, right? 

But when you try to reach deep inside to find a more plausible answer, there’s nothing. 

It’s your detachment from reality that lets Eddie drape a heavy, hard arm over your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he whispers into your ear. His breath is hot and warm. 

“Hey,” you whisper back, wanting nothing more than to get away. Thankfully, Ellie is too preoccupied with Cat to even look your way. You’re sure that you’d die if she saw Eddie touching you like this. 

“You look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you.”

It’s like someone shone a spotlight on you, hung a sign on your neck that said, I am perceived and desired by men. You don’t know why this makes your skin crawl so much. 

Eddie’s fingers are tracing patterns on the flesh of your arm. You find that you’re grateful for the extra layer your sweatshirt sleeve provides. You don’t want him to touch you—don’t want to know what it’s like for him to deliberately make contact with your skin. 

The next time he speaks to you, it’s in a murmur that you suppose is meant to sound seductive. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just a little tired.” And now you feel guilty, because Eddie really hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s you who has an issue with a boy who’s perfectly nice and clearly likes you. 

He laughs like you’d said something funny, tightening his arm so you press into his side. His body is blazing hot like a furnace, and it feels hard and foreign.

II. (scene from somewhere in the middle )

“Sorry!” You titter at the crowd of your friends who formed at the sliding glass door. “Um—sorry.” 

It seems to be the only thing you can say. 

“Cat,” Ellie says, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Cat, please, it’s not like—”

“I’m pretty fucking sure of what I saw,” snaps Cat. She turns to Eddie, a vicious glint in her eyes. “Didn’t know your girl swung that way.” 

And then she shoves past the mass of people, Ellie kicking off from the deck railing with a stream of apologies falling from her lips as she follows behind. 

Eddie walks forward, confusion the dominant emotion in his wide face.

“Uh—I didn’t—”

“I’m really drunk,” you say to him, feeling the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. “It’s not like that. I promise it’s not like that. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Hey,” he says, opening his arms. “Come here. Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” you sputter, stepping into him and pressing your snotty face into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Fuck.”

“It’s really okay.” His hand finds the flat part of your back between your shoulder blade and rubs circles. “It’s just a chick. If it were, like, I dunno, Jesse, I would’ve been angry.”

“You’re not mad?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him. Maybe there’s something tonight you didn’t ruin. 

He smiles down at you. “‘Course not. Some guys find that shit hot, you know. Two girls kissing like that.”

The smile that seemed so innocent at first sends a sharp, chilling pang through your chest. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation in the way your face falls as his head dips to kiss you, doesn’t seem to register the disgust you exhibit until you have to shove yourself away.

“I’m really drunk,” you repeat, looking anywhere but his face. “I want to go to bed.” 

“I can come—”

“No.”

final a/n: like i said so sorry about how disjointed this is. i just want to get a feel for what my readers are more interested in for now!!

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Lover

(Harry Styles x Fem! swiftie! Reader)

Summary: Harry asks Taylor to perform Lover at his wedding as a surprise to his wife.

Contents: Mild angst, cringey fluffiness, dirty joke(bestlifeonline.com), mentions of insecurities, mentions of past relationship, cursing

(Ya’ll can thank Miss. Taylor Alison Swift for this idea. Came to me during the Eras film.)

I did it. Sitting at this table with Harry, during our wedding reception, all my dreams have come true.

“Y/N… Y/N!”

I shake my head, turning my attention to Harry who’s looking at me expectantly.

“Hm?”

He laughs and squeezes my hand.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Mrs. Styles?”

I blush and shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t know, just kind of lost in my thoughts honestly. We’re here… We made it H. Like can you believe that?”

He smiles and shakes his head, squeezing my hand. Before he can respond, the DJ announces something over the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman, please join me in welcoming the happy couple in their first dance! If the bride and groom could make their way out to the dance floor!”

Harry stands and takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor with a smile. He positions his hands and wraps them around my waist as I wrap my arms around his neck. The music starts to play but every other second, it skips.

I start to tear up, frustrated that my perfect moment could be ruined. Harry sighs and kisses my forehead before he lets me go and heads over to the DJ’s station, no doubt to figure out what’s going on.

I see him physically sigh from across the room and I frown, looking down at the floor as I try to hide my tears. A few minutes later, he takes me back into his arms and holds me close with a smile.

“I thought-.”

He shakes his head and just presses his forehead against mine before he whispers softly.

“It’s fine. Trust me.”

Before I can respond, I hear someone tapping on a microphone. I turn my head to the small stage and see none other than Taylor Swift. With a guitar in her hand.

“Is this thing on? Oh okay cool it is! Hi guys! My name’s Taylor and I’ve been given the tremendous honor to sing this song for these two amazing people here. It means so much to me that this song means everything to them and their relationship. Please join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. Harry and Y/N Styles.”

I look at Harry, my eyes tearing up as he smiles.

“You did this?”

He pecks my lips and smiles but he doesn’t respond. He just pulls me closer as she begins to play and sing.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

And this is our place, we make the rules

“Harry… I can’t believe you did this- Did you- Did you plan this?”

He laughs and shrugs.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. You’ll never know though.”

I laugh and shake my head and he spins me around with a loving smile.

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

Flashback, 3 years before:

“Y/N, I’m sorry this isn’t exactly what I planned… I just wanted tonight to be perfect and now-.”

I smile and shake my hand, placing a hand over his. I look around and spot an ice cream shop across the street.

“It’s okay. I’m here spending time with you. It doesn’t matter what we do. How about we go get some ice cream? Nothing could go wrong with ice cream.”

He laughs and nods, taking my hand and leading me to the shop. We head inside and order our ice cream, then stand to the side while we wait. A familiar song comes on the radio and I start to him and sing along to it.

“You’re my my my… lover.”

Harry takes my hand before I know it, he’s pulling me into his arms and spinning me around the ice cream shop at almost midnight. I laugh and dance with him, enjoying the odd but sweet moment between us.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

“Do you remember our first date? What made you pull me in?”

He purses his lips before he smiles and answers.

“I dunno really. It just felt right. My body moved faster than my mind did. But we sure surprised them, didn’t we? Dancing at practically midnight in an empty shop, just because we wanted to. We’ve always been like that, haven’t we?”

I laugh and nod as he twirls me around before he pulls me in closer than before, resting his for forehead against mine.

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

“Y/N… I know I’ve told you this… Multiple times in fact… But you are one of a kind… Everyday I just fall more and more in love with you, whether we’re dancing in the kitchen, watching a movie, attending one of my numerous events or even just sitting quietly together. I love you Y/N. I’ve… I’ve never known what true love feels like until I met you. And I never want to lose what we have…”

I tear up and try to blink away my tears before I peck his lips a few times.

“Dummy… What did I say about making me cry today of all days?”

He laughs and pecks my lips. His hands move to my waist and he lowers me down, dipping me before he pulls me close again.

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

Flashback, Christmas 2 years ago:

“I love your room, H. It’s so boyish and adorable. Makes me almost want to squish you.”

He groans and shakes his head before he plops on the bed on to his back.

“Mum hasn’t touched anything since I left. She leaves mine and Gem’s rooms the way the are and I have a feeling it’s for this exact reason.”

I smile and lay down next to him, resting my head on his chest before looking up at him.

“It’s sweet. You’re her babies. Of course she would leave them. I’m sure my mom would’ve too if we’d had a housing growing up.”

He sighs and pulls me on top of him so i now rest my chin on his chest.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me out of hosting Christmas. I have plenty of room and a bigger bed! It also would’ve saved me the embarrassment!”

I laugh and shake my head. Before I can respond, Anne, Harry’s mom, pops her head through the doorway with a smile.

“Hey you two! We’ve got snacks and some tea downstairs! Why don’t you come warm up! Gemma wants to finish decorating the tree!”

I smile and nod, getting off of Harry before holding out my hand for him to take.

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Flashback, 6 months ago:

“Y/N, I promise! We’re just friends! I would never want to be with her again!”

I frown and keep my back to him, refusing to look at him.

“But you know she’s better for you. She fits in better with your lifestyle and it’s obvious she still wants you… Maybe you really are better off with her…”

He groans and grabs my shoulders, turning me around forcefully.

“I’m not with her. I haven’t been for years! Nor would I want to! We’re better as friends! And before I go into all the reasons why it should be you, I’ll tell you why it’s not her. I care for her deeply… But she’s not down to earth like you are. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to work hard for what you want. Everything is handed to her. But you? My god… My Y/N. Your heart, your soul, your determination and your will… You never give up. You put your mind on something and there really is no stopping you. Your promotion at work, moving to London to be with me after only 8 months together. You have lived such a painful life and look at you. You are one of the strongest people I know. You inspire me to be the man I want to be… And that man loves you. All of you. So i don’t want to hear any more about how you think you’re not good enough. Fuck the fame. It’s nothing without love. The only words I want to hear are ‘I do’. Yeah?”

I sigh and give him a small smile.

“I should really know better by now. Every time I feel insecure, you always seem to burn me and love me all at once.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around me, kissing my forehead.

“Good. No more being mean to my girl.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Lover

Flashback, Harry’s 29th birthday:

“Happy Birthday old man.”

He rolls his eyes and laughs before he hugs me.

“Y/N, don’t start. I’m 29..”

I laugh and hug him tight.

“He’s 29 folks! Twenty noine!”

“We’re never watching that episode of New Girl ever again. Well, at least until you turn 29. I’ll be playing it on a loop that day.”

I snort and shake my head, pecking his lips.

“Y/N…?”

I look him in the eyes an hum. His eyes soften and he smiles.

“Thanks for coming with me… I know it hasn’t been easy… But having you with me…It means everything to me. I love you.”

I smile and peck his lips softly.

“I go where you go.”

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

Flashback, a year and a half ago:

“Hey… H? Can you teach me how to play guitar?”

His eyes widen and he smiles before nodding enthusiastically.

“Of course I will, love! But why the sudden interest?”

I shrug and smile.

“I don’t know. I mean I already know who to play ukulele. Couldn’t be much different. And honestly I really want to learn how to play Push. You know how much I love Matchbox.”

He laughs and nods. He grabs a nearby guitar and pats his lap, motioning me to sit. I quickly do as he says and he starts to position my hands on the guitar, strumming it softly as he does so.

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

Flashback, 3 months into their relationship:

“Y/N L/N I swear! You are the most overdramatic person I know! And that’s saying something!”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks at me, my eyes welling up with tears.

“I’m sorry! It’s just so sad! They could’ve been so good together and look at how miserable they are!”

I wipe my tears and Harry shakes his head, laughing.

“That’s Klaus’ fault! And Caroline’s not miserable! She has Stephan and she’s pregnant! She’s literally a pregnant vampire!”

“They could’ve been amazing and I’m not sorry for crying! This is why I don’t watch this with you because you love to tease me!”

He laughs and hugs me, kissing the side of my head.

“That may be true, but I love you’re overdramatic ways. Cry. I’ll be hear to wipe your tears away.”

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Flashback, 6 months ago:

“Psst. Y/N. Y/N!”

I groan and advert my eyes from my phone to look at him, only to see a devilish grin on his face.

“What?”

He smiles even more before he whispers to me.

“What’s the difference between a G-spot and a golf ball?”

I groan and look at him.

“What, was Niall bored again?”

“Just answer the question Y/N!”

I sigh and look at him.

“I don’t know, what?”

He smiles and whispers again.

“A guy will actually search for a golf ball!”

I groan and Harry laughs, throwing his head back into the couch.

“Tell Niall to find some new material because that joke was not a hole in one.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever)

Flashback, 6 month anniversary:

“No matter how many times we go out, taking you home has to be my favorite part.”

I give him a look of shock and his own mouth drops, realizing what he just said.

“No! I just meant! I just meant that.. When I take you home… I give you a kiss goodnight… I always sleep better with a kiss goodnight. Honestly I wish you just lived with me so I could kiss you goodnight and good morning everyday…”

My mouth gapes in complete shock.

“A-Are you.. are you asking?”

He looks in my eyes and purses his lips, giving me a small nod.

“I-I know we’ve only been dating six months but… I love you Y/N L/N… I’m serious about us. More than I ever have been with anyone else… You can say no… I’ll understand-.”

I grab his cheeks and pull him down to my level, wrapping my arms around him as I kiss him passionately. He smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up slightly.

After a minute or so I pull away for air and Harry smiles, resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you Harry…So much.”

He smiles, pecking my lips lightly before hugging me again.

A couple weeks later:

I wake up to the sun in my eyes and arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I slowly turn to see a sleepy, smiling Harry. He squeezes me in his arms and pecks my lips softly.

“Good morning, love.”

I smile and snuggle up close to him before whispering back to him.

“Good morning, boyfriend.”

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my

Lover

Present, the wedding reception:

Harry holds my close, one hand holding my hand as the other remains secured to my waist. As Taylor finishes singing, harry softly whispers the last few lyrics to me before her kisses me. In the moment, nothing else mattered. It’s like it was just us and no one else was around…

6 years later, 6 year wedding anniversary:

I wake up, groaning as I turn only to be met by a small, look alike of my husband.

“Hi mommy.”

I smile and take Riley into my arms, hugging her tight as she giggles.

Riley Anne Styles, our honeymoon baby. Shortly after we came home from our honeymoon, I discovered I was pregnant after repeatedly getting sick while I was trying to get my some done. She’s 5 years old and an exact copy of her daddy. She’s a mommy’s girl, and is always close to my side.

“Good morning, my little bug.”

Riley groans as she wiggles in my arms.

“Mommy! I told you! I’m a big girl! I’m not little! Jude is little…”

She pouts and I smile, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“That may be true, but you’ll always be my little bug. Just embrace it, love bug.”

I sit up and get out of bed, carrying Riley as I walk out of the bedroom and downstairs, where the smell of eggs and coffee waft through the house. I set Riley down and she paddles her feet over to her daddy, who’s holding our son, Jude, while cooking at the stove.

Jude Edward Styles. A carbon copy of myself and our unplanned miracle. I was on bed rest my last trimester because of complications and he spent a few weeks in the NICU. He’s our little fighter and a daddy’s boy through and through. He’s only a year and a half but he’s so lively, you can’t but smile when you see him.

“Daddy! I woke up mommy!”

Harry turns around and sighs when he sees me.

“Ri- I told you not to wake up mummy, remember?”

Riley frowns and tears up a little. Harry sighs once again, turns off the burner and moves the pan to the back burner before turning around.

“It’s okay lovie, but remember, sometimes mummy needs to sleep. Remember how she’s been gone because of work? She was really sleepy and she got home pretty late last night…”

“Baby it’s okay. I slept great and I feel fine. C’mere bug, it’s okay.”

I kneel down and Riley runs over to me, flinging herself in my arms.

“It’s okay, love bug. Know one is mad at you. Right daddy?”

Harry smiles and nods. He fixes his hold of Jude before he walks over to us and kneels to my level.

“Sorry love, I just-.”

I kiss his cheek and shake my head, smiling.

“I know, and I appreciate you for doing that. But I feel fine. I missed you and I missed the kids… I didn’t want to be gone so long, especially because of our anniversary but work just kind of got out of control-.”

Harry pecks my lips and takes my free hand in his, squeezing it.

“I know, my love, I know. But you’re home. And I have so much planned for tonight, I just need to take the kids to mum’s-.”

“I love that you made so many big plans, I do… But- Can we maybe keeps the kids tonight? Do our anniversary dinner another night..?”

Harry smiles and nods.

“Of course. I know better after 6 years of marriage and 2 years of dating that you hate fancy restaurants for special occasions. I was going to cook your favorite and we were just gonna stay in and do- things…”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Last I checked, this is our anniversary, not just mine. Do I have any more say in what we do?”

He laughs and nods.

“Well, go ahead Mrs. Styles. What did you have in mind?”

Harry sets Jude in his lap and he crawls over to me with a drooly, toothy smile. I take him into my arms so I now have both my babies in my lap.

“I want a day with all my babies. Like we used to before we both went back to work…”

He smile and nods, before he pulls out his phone. He makes a quick call and just like that, we have a day full of family time. We go to all of our family places, and for the first time in a while, everything felt… normal. We spend the morning at the kid’s favorite interactive museum and then get some lunch before hitting the park. The kids manage to exhaust themselves so we take them home and put them down to nap. Normally, Riley doesn’t nap but she doesn’t sleep the greatest when Harry or I have to travel for work, so we decided to let her sleep.

We set them down in the tent in their playroom, and before I leave the room, I see Jude cuddle up to Riley and my heart melts. I snap a quick picture and fix their blanket to cover them more before I leave the room. I walk out to the living room to see Harry on the couch, his legs propped up on the davenport as he scrolls the the channels. I sit down next to him and curl up next to him, kicking my shoes off so I can curl my knees up. Harry wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close before pressing a kiss to my head.

“They’re out cold. Jude was cuddling Ri when I left and I kid you not H, I almost cried.”

He laughs a little and sighs.

“Missed you lover, we all did. But it was nice getting some one on one time with them. I tried getting Ri to sleep in her bed but she wasn’t having it. She missed you. Always cried after you hung up at bedtime. But mum came over and had a tea party with her. They managed to get Jude to join them but of course, that lead to them fighting over crowns and then he demolished the tea party in his dragon costume.”

I snort and shake my head.

“Of course he did. He’d live in that thing if he could.”

We cuddle and after about an hour, the kids wake up. We play in the backyard and have a nice, family dinner. After bath time, the kids are off to bed. As expected, Riley demands I read her a story and tuck her in, leaving Harry to handle Jude.

“Mommy, read more!”

I sigh and give her a small smile.

“Just one more, bug. Then it’s bed time. Now what are we reading?”

She gives me her normal sneaky smile before dropping her bombshell on me.

“Tell me how you and daddy met!”

I sigh and shake my head with a smile.

“Okay, okay fine.”

I lay down next to her, pulling her close as she snuggles up to me.

“So it was a little over 9 years ago. I was on something that you could call an adventure-.”

“Like Bluey mommy?”

I smile and nod.

“Yes, my love. Like Bluey. Anyways, I was on an adventure. I took a break from work and I decided to travel. I couldn’t pick where I wanted to go, so Papa booked me a flight for somewhere. A whole different country! My first day there, I visited this small coffee shop by my hotel and there’s where I met daddy. He was behind me in line and we ended up talking, and the rest, my sweet girl, is history.”

She giggles and cuddles up to me.

“And then you got married and then I was born? And then Jude?”

Before I can respond, Harry’s voice rings through the room.

“That’s right, lovie. And they’ve been the best years of my life.”

Harry’s leaning against the doorway, smiling with his arms folded. He walks over to the small bed and sits down at the edge of the bed.

“Daddy, were you happy?”

He smiles and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her head before sitting back up.

“Very. Mummy is my best friend and I love her very much. And she gave me you and your brother. Our little family is all I’ve ever wanted and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Now how about we get some shut eye, little miss? You’ve got a big day tomorrow. You’re going to nana’s!”

She smiles and giggles, nodding before she shuts her eyes. I place a kiss to her cheek and she smiles before turning her back to me to face the wall. I get up from the bed and walk out of the room with Harry, quietly closing the door.

We walk upstairs and start our nighttime routine, smiling at each other as we enjoy the silence. We get into bed and I cuddle up to Harry, who pulls me in his arms. We lay there quietly for a minute until Harry speaks up.

“6 years, how crazy is that?”

I laugh and cuddle up to him.

“They’ve been good to us though. I love you more and more each day. And you know? I can’t wait to see what the next six years bring us.”

He lifts me up and lays me on top of him so I see his smiling face.

“I was thinking… How would you feel about trying for another?”

My eyes widen in shock.

“Baby? H, Jude isn’t even 2!”

“But he’s walking and by the time the baby is born, he will be! Lover, please!”

He pouts and gives me his puppy dog eyes. I sigh and peck his lips.

“Fine, fine. I give in.”

He smiles and pecks my lips.

“Did you have a good anniversary, Lover?”

I smile and nod.

“I did, I really did. It was perfect. Thank you, H.”

He nods before his eyes widen and he lifts me off of him, rushing out of bed and into the closet. He comes back a moment later with a medium sized box, wrapped in blue ribbon. My eyes widen and I frown.

“Harry! I thought we agreed no presents!”

He gives me a weak smile and hands me the box anyways.

“I know… but I couldn’t resist!”

I smile and reach into my nightstand, and pull out a small box before handing into him.

“Neither could I.”

He laughs and pecks my lips. We open our gifts at the same time, but I’m more anxious to see his reaction.

“A locket?”

“With me and the kids in it… I have an old coworker who designs them now so.. I designed one and he made it. That way, when you have to go and you get overwhelmed and can’t call… You’ll still have us.”

He tears up and puts it on before bending down to my level and pulling me into a kiss.

“I love it, Y/N. I really do.”

I smile and wipe his tears before pecking his lips again. He then grabs my present off the bed and hands it to me, gesturing me to open it. I sigh and open it slowly. Inside, is a finished brown box, seemingly to be a music box. I open into and tear up at the sound.

“It’s our song…”

He smiles and nudges his head to the box.

“Keep looking.”

I open it more and as a general music box has, there’s a figure inside dancing. But based on the immense detail, it looks like Harry and I on our wedding day. The box is littered with pictures of us with the kids and some with just us. I tear up and set the box down, pulling him into a hug.

He laughs and hugs me tight, pressing a kiss to the side of my head.

“It’s perfect…”

Harry smiles and opens the box, placing it on the bed before he lifts me up and pulls me into his arms.

“Dance with me.”

I laugh and nod, laying my head on his chest as he holds me and we slowly sway. After a few minutes, I readjust and wrap my arms around his neck, our foreheads resting against each other as he softly whispers to me.”

“Darling you’re my, my, my, Lover.”

———————————🩷————————————

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought!!! If you liked this, please feel free to check out my masterlist!

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[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

i have nowhere to go w any character rly,, just being beaten down and SO done with everything that has gone down in ur life, ending up on someone’s doorstep in the rain, asking for a moment of peace with them🥲🥲🥲

it ain't raining cause i wanted the pathetic fallacy to provide a happier setting than our dear reader's apartment - anyway, this one was fun, and is written extremely vaguely, in terms of your chosen character.

Seeking Peace - Drabble

Written with Iruka, Kakashi, Shisui, Shikamaru, Naruto, Shino, Choji, Kiba, Sai, and Neji in mind, but could work for others.

Warnings: swearing, angst, symptoms of depression (not showering, not eating), this might suck lmk

W/c: 612

Masterlist💿

You know it's gotten bad again, when you haven't had a good cup of tea in so long, that you start to forget how a proper cup should taste.

You know it's gotten bad again, when you realize you haven't showered in over a week; you can almost see the layer of dirt that clings to your skin, matting every hue.

You know it's gotten bad again, when you can't even finish a dinner roll in one sitting, even after having forgotten to eat for two days - though your stomach whales and gurgles, if you eat one bite too much, it all comes up.

You know it's gotten bad again.

Will it get better on it's own?

Stirring your tea until you can hear not a single sugar granule on the bottom, you sip the carefully brewed mixture with purpose - only to find it tastes of... ugh.

Sitting in the shower, your arms scream with exertion while washing your hair, battling the heavy tendrils with too much shampoo to quantify - but, can you find the energy to scrub your body? Ugh.

Drawing to the fridge, you hesitate to open it.

Fuck this, I need help.

So, you pull your favourite jumper over your t-shirt, and cover your legs with black track pants. Argyle socks had always ticked you, so you thought, for shits and giggles, why not?

Shoes were all you needed, then you got your keys and your coat, ready to leave.

You know where to go.

To the kindest person you know.

He was a constant presence in your life, on the sunny days and the rainy days. His door was always open, and his shoulder was always good to cry on. With him, he brought a homely warmth. one that drew you in, one that you craved, now, more than ever.

The streets are empty, and you realize it to be the dead of night. The village was asleep, washed in a silver glow and cool breeze.

The Moon tells you that it's a little past midnight, so you'd better hurry up. You heed her gentle advice, and could feel a beam of her shine along your face as a reward.

The beautiful Moon was very kind. So kind, that there was only one kinder than she.

And now you stood at his doorstep, your muscles tired, your mouth dry, and your heart heavy. Despite your thoughts that told you to go back to your apartment, you reach up and knock gently against his door. Then, wait.

And wait.

You rest your forehead against the door. Maybe you could just sleep here, on his doorstep... at least you'd be out of your apartment.

Then the door slowly cracks open.

Standing up straight, you gathered up whatever you could, and smile at him. He smiles right back, giving you a little boost.

Rubbing his eyes, he yawns, "What's the word, hummingbird? I haven't seen you in a bit."

"I'm sorry about that, and this - y'know, given the time and all..."

"Agh, don't worry about it," he assures you with a sleep-laced voice. He holds the door open wider, and motions you in. "Do you wanna come in to have a tea and a chat, or... I dunno, we could cuddle up on the couch maybe?"

He would always understand you, he would never question you - and you couldn't have been more grateful for his mere existence in the present moment. It was like he lifted the invisible weight from your shoulders, and allowed you to draw a proper breath, for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Whatever you want to do," you reply with a small, but genuine, smile. "I just want a moment of peace... with you."

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 5

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Eventual Smut, Violence, Alcohol, Sexual Themes, Hidden Feelings, Swearing, Cheating, Established Relationship.

-- Part 4 Here --

________________________

18+ Only

________________________

Past:

You and Bradley didn't speak for a few days after your conversation at the beach, but you felt your cold shoulder beginning to fade when Bradley showed up at your door with a bunch of daisies in his hand, which he thrust at you as soon as you opened the door.

''What are these for?'' you asked.

''For whatever I did to piss you off, I'm sorry.'' he said genuinely, and it broke your heart that you'd made him think he'd actually done something wrong.

''It wasn't you, Bradley, I'm sorry for the way I acted.'' You apologised softly.

Bradley grinned and softly punched your shoulder, ''Besties again?''

You chuckled, ''Never stopped, Bradshaw.''

Things went mostly back to normal after that, with Bradley still spending most of his time with you. There was the odd occasion Michelle would call Bradley and ask to meet up, where he'd disappear for a while, only to reappear at your house the next day as if he never left.

Bradley didn't say much about Michelle around you, obviously sensing your dislike for her, but it became more and more obvious that they were getting closer and closer to doing the deed, when Carole let slip one night that Bradley had a romantic date planned for her.

You wanted to be sick at the thought, but instead you smiled at her and mumbled 'That's nice, hope you two have a good time.' as Bradley blushed a bright shade of crimson, you both going back to the lovely dinner Carole had cooked for you.

''So, what's this date you've told me nothing about?'' you chuckled as Bradley walked you home that evening, the cool air wafting his poofy dark hair over his eyes. He smoothed his hair back and chuckled awkwardly.

''It's nothing, just dinner. A picnic actually, up on the hill.''

''Are you gonna... you know?''

''Gosh I dunno, Birdy, what's with the interrogation?'' he flushed.

You were both quiet for a moment, until you neared your front lawn and looked up at him, ''For what its worth, I don't think she's right for you. I think you can do better, Rooster.''

Bradley was about to speak, when your dad walked outside.

''Ah, I'm glad you're both here. Can you two come inside for a second, we need to talk.'' your dad said sombrely, and you could see your mother in the hallway, her eyebrows creased.

''What is it, dad?'' you asked as you walked towards him.

''Just come inside.''

__________________________

Present:

Your most important things were packed in a suitcase, the rest still in your apartment. You'd signed a year lease so you thought at the very least if things panned out, you could use it as a storage unit until things were set up in California.

The plane landed and your stomach was in knots. You hadn't told Bradley you were coming yet, and as you left the airport and got in a cab, you suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

It was too late to turn back when you decided it was, in fact, a very bad idea, because you were already pulling up outside of Bradleys bungalow. You took a deep breath as you paid the driver, and you swallowed down the nerves as you took your suitcase out of the trunk. You thought you were going to vomit as you walked up to the front door and knocked.

You waited for what felt like an agonisingly long time, but when the door finally swung open, you knew you'd made the right decision.

''Birdy?'' Bradley breathed in disbelief, his hands cupping his mouth as his eyes scanned your face.

''Hope that invitation is still valid.'' you joked sheepishly.

Bradley lunged forwards and swept you up in his big burly arms, you dangled helplessly like a doll in an overly early childs hands, and you chuckled as he buried his face in your neck.

When he finally put you down, you grinned up at him, and noticed his Adams Apple bobbing, he was trying not to cry.

''Oh, you big softie.'' you punched his shoulder and he chuckled, rubbing his eyes.

''I just can't believe you're here. I didn't think you'd come.''

''Well, are you gonna make me live out here on the porch or can I come in?'' you teased.

''Right! Come in, I have a room for you.'' Bradley stepped to the side and grabbed your suitcase. He gave you a quick tour of the little bungalow that you thought seemed too small for a man of his stature, and lastly to the bedroom he'd prepared, just in case you came.

''Wow, Brad, I thought you said you didn't think I was coming?'' you breathed. The room was already set up, pink floral duvet covers and fluffy pillows awaited you, a poster of your favourite boy band in school, and the canvas you'd painted with Bradley stood pride and centre on the wall.

''I know, but I hoped.'' he said simply.

You looked up at him and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to your height. You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped your arms around his neck.

''Thank you.'' you whispered as you hugged him.

''Anything for my lil Bird.''

It took a while for you to let go, but when you did Bradley left you to unpack and relax for a while.

You walked around your room and smiled, it was simple and mostly empty, but it had a sense of home that your apartment in New York didn't have.

You sat on the bed and breathed in the smell of sea air wafting in through your windows.

Once you'd unpacked and changed into a more summery dress, you met Bradley in the lounge, the sound of a football match roaring through the speakers. Bradley turned the tv off as you walked in, smiling at you.

''California suits you.'' he grinned.

You swished your dress from side to side, ''Yeah, I think so too.'' you winked.

''How do you feel about meeting some of my friends?'' Bradley asked, as he stood and met you at the centre of the room. He stood over you, tauntingly close, the smell of his cologne teasing your nostrils.

''You mean that blond guy, Jake?'' you scrunched up your nose.

''There are others, I promise.'' he chuckled, cupping your face in both of his huge hands. He stared down at you so intently, for a moment you forgot where you were.

''Why are you looking at me like I'm not real?'' you breathed out a soft, awkward laugh.

''Because I'm scared you're not and I'm gonna wake up without you.'' he said earnestly. Your heart thudded against your chest as his face grew closer, his eyes dipping to your lips.

Knock Knock Knock

Bradleys front door suddenly interrupted you, and you both stepped back, looking at each other for a moment, before Bradley went to answer it.

''I may have texted the group that you're here, I think they took that as an invitation to come and meet you.'' he said apologetically. You laughed as he opened the door and 5 people walked in.

''Hello again little lady.'' Jake, the only one you recognised, grinned at you, toothpick between his teeth.

''Hi, Jake.'' you smiled politely back.

Bradley introduced you to the others as they filtered in, each toting various drinks and bags of snacks.

''This is Nat, Bob, Reuben, and Javy. You'll meet Mickey at some point but he's on his honeymoon at the moment.''

You said hello to everyone, and Nat pulled you in for a hug. She reminded you a lot of Gabby, and you suddenly remembered you needed to give her a call later.

''It's so great to finally meet you, Rooster has been talking about you for years!'' Nat laughed.

''Great to meet you too! Years, huh?'' you shot Bradley a quizzical glance, and he just rolled his eyes.

You all filtered out into the little back yard, where Jake and Javy fired up the grill as everyone got to know you, drinks at hand and before long laughter filling the little yard.

Bradley made his way over to where you and Bob were talking, slinking an arm casually over your shoulder as he took a swig of beer. He joined in the conversation and didn't notice as someone new walked out the back door.

Bob noticed first, and tapped Bradley on the shoulder, his eyes shooting over to the new comer to alert Bradley.

''Hi all!'' she chirped, ''The door was open, hope you don't mind if I join?''

Bradley groaned, moving his arm off of your shoulder as he turned to face her.

''Hey, Alice. Sorry I was gonna call you.'' he said awkwardly as he walked over to the leggy blond.

''Alice, this is my best friend, Y/N.'' He said introducing you with a grin.

And then half heartedly and with a sheepish look, he turned to look at you, ''Y/N, this is Alice... my girlfriend.''

__________________________________

Past:

“What do you mean? Why can’t you just do that job here?” You demanded.

You were sitting in your living room across from your parents, Bradley was next to you with his face in his hands.

“There isn’t a position here for me, Y/N. This job is going to sort out so much debt for us-“ your mom nudged your dad and shook her head to stop him from talking.

“Are we having money problems?” You asked softly.

Bradley lifted his head and looked around with furrowed eyebrows.

Your dad sighed, looked at your mom and she took over, “We’re fine, but we are struggling. This job is our only choice. I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s going to be difficult, but Bradley can come visit whenever and you can stay with them during summer vacation.”

Your parents left you shell shocked in your living room with Bradley, who just looked at you with wide, watery eyes.

“Well, I guess that’s it then…” you mumbled.

“No, it can’t be. I haven’t planned for a life without you, what am I supposed to do when you’re gone?” Bradley suddenly exploded, standing to his feet so quickly it startled you.

He began to pace, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna be stuck with Michelle as my only source of company.” He ranted.

“Isn’t that what you want?” You asked softly.

Bradley looked at you like you’d just asked the most stupid question ever, “No! God no! She’s boring, and stuck up, and rude, when I’m with her all I can think about is getting out.”

“Then why are you with her?” You shook your head in exasperation.

“Because… you don’t get it, Birdy. I’m the only one in my grade that hasn’t… you know. I needed someone experienced who I could do it with.” He groaned, sitting back down and putting his hands over his face.

“Brad, why didn’t you tell me that’s the only reason? If you’re gonna lose your… you know, it should be with someone you actually care about.” You said gently, placing a hand on the top of his arm. He lowered his hands and looked at you for a while.

Bradley sighed, “The only person in this whole damn town I care about is you.”

You were about to respond when your brother walked into the room and wailed dramatically.

“Have you heard the news? Our lives are over!”

—————————————

Present:

“Girlfriend? Oh, hi, nice to meet you.” Your voice was small and shaky, and you had to clear your throat.

Bob noticed the awkward tension and was the first one to realise what was happening.

“Oh my god! Bradley talks about you non stop! So nice to finally meet you, girl!” Alice squealed, hugging you.

Bob cleared his throat, “Y/N, do you mind helping me grab some of the food from the kitchen?” Bob asked, looking you in the eye and giving you a signal.

You nodded and excused yourself, and as soon as you were in the kitchen, you let out a long shaky breath, tears prickling your eyes. You had just made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bob asked, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“Yep. I just… I need to call someone. Excuse me.” You rushed off to your bedroom and closed the door, pressing your back up against it as you breathed through the sudden panic.

You found your phone on the nightstand and dialled Gabby’s number.

As soon as she answered, you began to sob uncontrollably.

“Y/N! What’s going on, can you breathe for me please?” She called over the phone.

You attempted to pull in a few short breaths until you were calm enough to speak.

“I’m such an idiot!” You cried.

“Why? What’s happening? You scared me when you left this morning.”

“I… I went to California. Bradley asked me to, so I did, I thought he wanted me here because he felt the same.” You sniffled.

There was a brief silence on the other end, “He doesn’t?” She sounded surprised.

“He has a girlfriend, Gabs, one he never told me about.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, just now. I was so blindsided I must have come across as rude. I can’t believe I thought Bradley and I had any future, or that he loved me the way I love him. I’ve loved him for what feels like my whole life, Gabs, when am I going to realise I can’t have him?” You wept.

Suddenly the door creaked, and you turned around suddenly to face Bradley, who stood in the doorway with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyebrows furrowed, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill over.

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “Gabby I have to go.” You hung up and dropped your phone on the bed.

“Brad-“

He held up a hand to shush you, and edged into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t speak.” He said as he crossed the room. He stood over you and a large hand came up to thread through your hair and cup your cheek.

A tear dropped down your face as you looked up at him, your lip quivering.

“Did you mean what you just said?” Bradley whispered, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest against yours, your lips inches apart, his warm breath on your skin.

“Yes.” you croaked out. And that’s all you needed to say, because Bradley’s lips came crashing down on yours, taking your breath away. The room spun as your eyes widened, and then gradually fluttered shut.

His other hand cradled the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into your lips.

The tears fell faster now as your heart felt as if it was exploding, the fireworks inside you turning your skin alight. You grabbed a fistful of Bradley’s shirt, holding on for dear life as the feeling you’d waited decades for was finally washing over you, better than you'd ever imagined, buckling your knees from underneath you.

Bradley’s hand moved from the back of your head to your lower back and he pulled you into him, holding you up, and still it wasn’t enough, you wanted more, desperate for more, hungry for more, but your conscious suddenly rocked through you like a bolt of lightning and you pushed against Bradley’s chest. You broke away from him with a gasp as you fought for breath. Your hand moved up to your chest to soothe the thrumming inside as you panted.

Bradley looked at you with a confused, longing expression, fighting for his own breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bradley demanded, his face flushed and lips beautifully swollen.

You bit your lip and shook your head before you breathed a laugh, “Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes, Birdy, it would have made all the difference.” He nodded, hands on his hips as he contemplated your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend before I flew out here?” You asked him sadly.

“I… I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He looked at his feet.

You shook your head again as you sighed, “I’ve loved you since that stupid moustache began to grow, Brad. In fact I think I loved you the second you saved me on my first day of school.” You breathed.

Bradley’s eyes shot up to meet yours, his bottom lip wobbled as he nodded, “Yeah, that’s about the same time I fell in love with you, too, Birdy.”

You opened your mouth to speak but a sharp knock rasped against your bedroom door and you jumped. The door opened and Bob poked his head through.

“Uhm… you guys should probably come outside.”

—————————————

-- Part 6 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

[danicamaximoff]

Pretend To Be Nice | Chapter Four

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Chapter Four: 70's Funk?

Summary: A few months after forming their band "The Pussycats", Hazel and her friends PJ and Josie get noticed by a record label, and are quickly skyrocketed into fame. It's a dream come true for them, and all three of their lives are flipped upside down. Their quick arrival on the scene quickly draws the attention of many other artists and bands, including a popular girl band called "Nymphology". Unfortunately for Hazel, a mix-up and unintentional awful encounter ends up creating tension between the two groups right before they all leave for Nymphology's upcoming tour. Now forced to frequently interact with someone who she was convinced couldn't stand her, Hazel is desperately trying to fix things with the band's lead guitarist. However it doesn't help that Y/N is actively avoiding Hazel as much as possible, and the fact that Hazel found her insanely hot definitely didn't make things any easier.

Warnings: angst, rockstar au, eventual smut, slowburn, swearing, occasional alcohol mentions/use

Word Count: 4377

“Should we get mac and cheese?” Josie asks as she pushes the shopping cart as her and Hazel wander through the grocery store aisles to get a few snacks and food for their hotel room.

“Like the microwave one or the stove one?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows.

“Either one.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Josie, we don't have a stove in the hotel.” Hazel says as she shakes her head. “Or literally any cooking items.”

“You can make boxed mac in the microwave, I do it all the time at Sarah Lawrence.” Josie says with a shrug as she looks at Hazel.

“That sounds disgusting.” Hazel says as she scrunches up her face a bit.

“I mean it tastes the same for the most part, mac is mac. You just have to get the shell ones or sometimes the noodles clump together and then I guess it’s a little weird.” Josie says as she grabs a few boxes of mac and cheese as well as the microwavable cups.

“Do you know when we hear from Wyatt if we get a record deal or not? Oh shit.” Hazel asks as she absentmindedly runs her hand along the shelf tags, eyes going wide as she accidentally knocks a few of them to the ground, mentally panicking as she immediately grabs them and starts trying to put them back in their spots. “Oh hey, we should get gummy worms too.”

“I mean the meeting is today, so we should find out soon.” Josie says as she shrugs. “What happens if they sign us?”

“I dunno? We make a record?” Hazel says as she looks over at Josie.

“No, like, are we staying in the hotel the whole time? I don’t want to live in a hotel.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I mean we’d probably get an apartment, wouldn’t we?” Hazel says as she gets a confused look.

“I can’t afford Los Angeles!” Josie says as her eyes go wide in horror. “I can barely afford mac and cheese! How am I supposed to pay for an apartment?”

“Well they would pay us right? Plus it’s cool, if we get signed I can probably ask my mom to chip in or something. I’m pretty sure she has a beach house out here that she vacations at with boyfriends. My dad bought it for her when they were still together as an “I’m Sorry I Cheated” house. I heard them fighting about it in middle school.” Hazel says as she shrugs. “I can see if we can use it or something.”

“You never told me your dad cheated?” Josie asks with a confused and shocked look on her face.

“Well, yeah. You never asked, I didn’t think it was important.” Hazel says as she shrugs.

“I mean, you don’t have to, but I would tell you if something like that happened. You’re one of my best friends.” Josie says with a shrug.

“Wait, really?” Hazel says as she gets a surprised look on her face.

“Hazel, we’re literally in a band together and we hang out all the time.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a funny look.

“Yeah but I thought it’s mostly you and PJ doing stuff and me just tagging along.” Hazel says with a slightly confused look.

“What? No!” Josie says as she gives Hazel a confused look. “Hazel, you’re like the main reason the band exists, and I wouldn’t have come if you didn’t convince me.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“PJ said you agreed to join the band because she said you’d get a girlfriend.” Hazel says as she frowns and gives Josie a confused look as well.

“Hazel, PJ says a lot of stuff.” Josie says as she rolls her eyes. “I love her, but she just talks to talk half the time. I never even wanted to be in a band, it scares the crap out of me, dude. I know I complained about the bowling alley a lot, but playing at the party was like the worst stage fright I’ve ever experienced.” Josie says as she shakes her head while grabbing a few grocery items off the shelves and into the cart she was pushing.

“But then why’d you-” Hazel starts to say before Josie cuts her off.

“Because I remembered you had always wanted to be in a band. Didn’t you have an obsession with Kiss or something when you were younger?” Josie says as she glances at Hazel.

  “I did, I went as Paul Simmons for Halloween one year.” Hazel says as she nods.

“See? That’s why I joined. You love music, and you do all the hard stuff like getting outfits and gigs and everything, I just have to show up and play, which is good because I think if I had any other responsibilities I would crumble under the pressure because I get anxious enough about performing.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“I thought you guys didn’t like the cat ears?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I thought they were kind of fun.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t have cared if we didn’t wear them, but it was a cool idea. And people liked it and it fits with the band name.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I think it should be part of our outfits.”

“Wait, really?” Hazel asks as her face lights up with excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me I was the reason you joined?” 

“Because PJ takes over, so when she says we’re doing this to get girlfriends, you kind of just have to go along with it.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I was never doing it to get a girlfriend. I just like the drums.” Hazel says as she furrows her brows.

“Yeah, but you can also say no to PJ, cause you don’t care. She’s my best friend so I just kind of go along with things after a bit.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Hazel says as she shrugs, before realizing something irrelevant to the conversation. “Oh I forgot to tell you, that girl you like is at the same studio as us. You know, the one from Nymphology with the like-” Hazel starts to say as she gestures at her chest where hair would be if she had long hair, but Josie cuts her off as she starts nervously laughing.

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” Josie says as she stops walking and leans her head against her arms as they rest on the shopping cart. “I already met her, and I almost threw up.” 

“What? You threw up?!” Hazel asks in shock as she gives Josie an alarmed look.

“No! God I would die if I did! I wasn’t being serious! I was just a total idiot when I talked to her!” Josie says as her eyes go wide and she shakes her head.

“What’d you say? I mean it probably wasn’t that bad, you’re a very likeable person.” Hazel says as her face scrunches up in confusion.

“Well I saw her, and I choked on the water I was drinking, and then she came over and asked if I was okay, and I said yeah, and then she was like “I’m Isabel” and I was like “I’m Josie” and then I stared at her for like a second and then looked away, and then I asked if she liked water because I couldn’t think of anything to say.” Josie says awkwardly as she looks up at the ceiling.

“Well did she?” Hazel asks.

“Did she what?” Josie asks Hazel with a confused look.

“Did she like water?” Hazel says as she looks at Josie expectantly.

“Yes. She did. Everyone does, Hazel, you need it to live.” Josie says as she looks at Hazel a bit in disbelief. 

“Well now you have something in common!” Hazel says as she smiles a bit, clearly thinking she was being helpful, as Josie sighs and shakes her head.

“We gotta work on how you comfort people, dude.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“What’s wrong with how I comfort people?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“It’s not that there’s something wrong, you just-” Josie says before sighing. “I just mean that if you weren’t one of my best friends and I didn’t know you, I would think you’re being a dick and making fun of me.”

“Oh, really? I thought that would be helpful, cause now you have something in common with her.” Hazel says as she shrugs. 

“I-” Josie starts to say before stopping and sighing a bit. “Thank you Hazel, that actually is helpful.” Josie says as she nods, though she definitely was just saying that to not make Hazel sad.

“Oh really? Sick!” Hazel says with a grin. “Oh you know what you should do? Mention moss! Because it can help you find water! And then you have two things to talk about!” Hazel says excitedly as they continue shopping.

“Hi mom!” Hazel says into the phone excitedly from her hotel room, feeling like she was about to pass out. She had just got back from the meeting with the record label, and The Pussycats had officially been signed for a three year contract, and if their first album did well, then that would most likely be extended. They started recording the rest of the album tomorrow, and the label agreed to pay for the hotel for the time being until the three of them found a place to live in. 

“Hi sweetheart! How are you!” Hazel’s mom says into the phone, sounding like she was yelling for some reason.

“Are you yelling? Why are you talking weird?” Hazel says with a confused tone.

“I’m on my elliptical right now, but I have a face mask and I’m doing that cucumber thing on my eyes! Annie said it will help with my bags and the dark circles! Annie, say hi to Hazel!” Her mom says over the phone, talking to her best friend Annie.

“Hi Hazel! How’s college?” Annie says in the background.

“No, Annie, she’s not at Sarah Lawerence right now, for that… that band thing.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Oh that’s right! How’s LA? Have you met Robert Downey Jr. yet?” Annie asks in the background, yelling as well.

“I’m here for music stuff, not movies.” Hazel says into the phone as she shakes her head.

“It could happen! If you meet him, tell him I’m single!” Annie yells, which makes Hazel roll her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, okay anyways, mom can I tell you my news now?” Hazel says impatiently.

“Yes, of course sweetheart! What is it? Annie shut up.” Her mom says over the phone.

“We got a record deal! The contract is for three years!” Hazel says excitedly, and her mother gasps over the phone.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” Her mom yells over the phone, though still clearly exercising as she talks. “Annie, did you hear that? Hazel’s going to be a musician!” 

“Yeah, I know! We start recording the album tomorrow!” Hazel says excitedly as she grins.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Her mom yells. “Siri! Siri! Si-Ri!” Her mom beggins yelling clearly trying to get her phone’s voice assistant to activate. “Annie why is Siri not working?” 

“Mom, why do you need Siri?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I need to set a reminder to book a flight to LA!” She says to Hazel.

“What? Why?” Hazel asks, clearly confused by her mother’s sudden plans.

“Hazel, you’re going to be famous! I want to be there to see my little Witch Hazel spread her wings!” Her mom says into the phone, using a nickname from when Hazel was little, which makes Hazel groan.

“Mom, please stop calling me that! I’m not five anymore!” Hazel says with embarrassment.

“Siri! Siri! Oh for Christ's sake, Annie, I’m taking the cucumbers off.” Hazel’s mom says, before shuffling noise is heard as she seemingly grabs the phone. “Let me find a good flight, and I’ll fly out as soon as I can sweetheart!” She says excitedly, her voice significantly closer to the phone and not yelling as much since she was now holding the phone.

“No, mom you really don’t-” Hazel starts to say before her mom cuts her off.

“Do you girls need somewhere to stay? I assume you can’t be in a hotel the whole time.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone, which makes Hazel perk up.

“Yeah, actually! That’s part of why I called, I was wondering if we can rent out the beach house or something instead of getting an apartment, because PJ and Josie can’t afford rent out here.” Hazel says quickly. “We’d take really good care of it! We wouldn’t ruin it!”

“Oh, yeah, of course! We can sign you up for surfing lessons too, so you can be a California girl and get the full experience!” Hazel’s mom says with an excited tone.

“Oh I don’t really-” Hazel starts to say before she gets cut off again.

“No, no, no, trust me! You’ll want surfing lessons sweetheart! It’s very rockstar! Plus the instructors are usually hot. I had one a few years ago, what was his name?” Hazel’s mom says as she thinks for a second. “Well, I can’t remember, but I do remember he was very hot! We hooked up a lot that summer, he-” Hazel’s mom starts to say, before Hazel cuts her off.

“Ew, mom! I don’t want to hear about that!” Hazel says with a disgusted look on her face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Her mom says defensively. “I’m just saying! They’re usually very hot!”

“Mom, I don’t even like men, you know this!” Hazel says, still disgusted at the topic.

“There’s girl instructors too!” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Mom- I- No! I don’t- Can we go back to talking about the beach house?” Hazel says as she stumbles over her words.

“Alright, alright! I’m letting it go! Of course you can use the beach house sweetheart, we can work out all the details when I fly out. Anyways I have to go, I have a decorative bead making class in an hour and I have to change out of my workout clothes. I’ll text you the flight plans once I book it! I love you!” Hazel’s mom says before hanging up the phone, leaving Hazel confused.

“Decorative bead making class?” Hazel says to herself with confusion as Josie and PJ enter the hotel room.

“Hazel, there were the hottest girls at the pool just now, one of them was totally into me! I told you guys this was a good idea!” PJ says excitedly as she throws her towel down on one of the chairs in the hotel room.

“They looked at us like once, PJ.” Josie says as she gives PJ a look.

“Yeah and it was a “I’m totally into you” kind of look!” PJ says as she throws her arms up and looks at Josie. “Oh, Hazel, have you called your mom yet?” She asks as she flops down on the couch.

“Yeah! She said we can move into the beach house!” Hazel says with a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” PJ says excitedly as she punches the air.

“Hey guys? Have we like, put thought into what songs are going on the album?” Josie asks as she grabs a soda from the mini fridge.

“Shit!” PJ says as she sits up a bit.

“I mean I have, but it’s not-” Hazel starts to say as PJ cuts her off.

“Write it down! We need to have a plan for tomorrow! Fuck, Josie! Why’d you make me go to the pool!” PJ says as she panics a bit, as Josie throws her arm up in annoyance, as going to the pool had been PJ’s idea.

“Fuck, that’s not right.” Hazel says as she frowns and scribbles out the notes she wrote on the music sheet. She bites on her pencil for a moment as she thinks, before setting it down and readjusting the electric guitar she was holding and playing different note sequences over again as she tries to figure out the guitar part for a song.

She was currently the only one in the studio, PJ and Josie had left about thirty minutes ago to go grab dinner, but Hazel had stayed behind, determined to figure out this new song they were working on that had her stumped. She had already figured out the general beat and the chorus, but the more fine details and actual instrumentals to the song was frustrating her, as she couldn’t seem to figure out a vibe that she liked and matched with the vision she had for the song. Josie and PJ had tried to convince her to take a break, but she refused to leave until she figured this out, so here she was, alone with one of the electric guitars as she ran over the same section over and over again, trying to come up with something she liked. 

It had been about a week and a half since being signed, and they had been working constantly on the album, picking which songs, discussing with Wyatt, and had even decided to come up with a few new ones per Wyatt’s suggestion, giving them advice and his thoughts on what the album was missing. 

Staring off into space, she hums the general vibe of the song she had so far to herself, her fingers absentmindedly tap against the base of the guitar as she bites her lip a bit and thinks. Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the sound of the door to the studio opening as she begins playing another random string of notes on the guitar, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Is that for the album?” Y/N asks from the door, as she leans against the doorframe, making Hazel jump in her seat a bit.

“Oh my god, hi!” She says as she quickly turns and sees Y/N, heart immediately racing.

“Hi.” Y/N says as she grins softly. “They leave you in here by yourself?” She asks as she looks around at the empty recording studio.

“Oh, yeah. Josie and PJ went to go grab food but I wanted to stay and work on this new song we’re writing.” Hazel says as she smiles, trying not to show how nervous she is.

“Can I hear it? I promise I won’t steal it.” Y/N says with a small laugh, a teasing grin on her face that makes Hazel’s stomach do cartwheels.

“Oh it’s not- I mean- it’s- I’m still working on it. It’s in shambles right now.” Hazel says, nervously stumbling over her words.

“That’s okay, I won’t judge.” Y/N says with a laugh as she shakes her head. 

“Oh, I mean- uh, yeah sure, if you really want to then.” Hazel says as she nods a bit.

“Yeah, show me what you got so far.” She says with a smile as she walks inside, the studio door closing behind her as she goes and sits down on one of the chairs near Hazel.

“Okay, yeah. Um, so this song is supposed to be like towards the end of the album kind of. A lot of our songs are like in the alternative category, but Wyatt said we should add more variety to what we have so far, so we added a few slower ones, and for this one, PJ said she wanted it to be more “funky” but not 70’s, and I don’t really know what that means. We don’t even have all the lyrics either, it’s very unfinished right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs a hand through her hair, avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

“What are you working on right now?” Y/N asks as she scoots a bit closer to see what Hazel had written down so far. “I can try and help if you want.”

“Really?” Hazel asks as she looks at her in shock.

“Yeah.” Y/N says as she smiles and nods her head. “Nymphology finished recording for the day, I was heading out but I saw someone was in here so I wanted to say hi in case it was you.” 

“Why me?” Hazel asks, both in shock and confusion.

“Well we didn’t really get to talk a few weeks ago, and I’m curious about the moss thing now, because I think it was Josie? But anyways, one of the girls in my band is named Isabel, and apparently Josie brought up moss the other day.” Y/N says as she laughs a bit. “I’m just curious now if that’s like a friend group thing or not.”

“No! It’s not! It’s my thing! I told Josie about it because she likes Isabel so I said she should bring up moss because they both like water, so it connects, and that’s what I do.” Hazel says quickly as she shakes her head, before her eyes go wide as she realizes what she said. “Shoot, don’t tell her I said that.” She says as Y/N laughs.

“So you bring up moss as a flirting tactic?” Y/N asks with a grin, which makes Hazel panic.

“What? What- No! No, I don’t- Sometimes, but like-” Hazel says as she immediately stumbles over her words and blushes a bit. “Anyways the song!” She says quickly as she turns back to the paper she had been writing on. What is wrong with me?! She thinks to herself as Y/N giggles. She was rarely like this around girls. Fuck. She seriously needed to ignore the fact that Y/N was super pretty and get her game back. Except when she actually thought about it, that was definitely very impossible. Double fuck. “Anyways, this is the part I’m trying to figure out right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs her hand through her hair again before readjusting the guitar again, internally just a jumbled mess on nerves and anxiety as she begins playing what she had so far on the guitar.

“And your friend said she wanted it to be what? Funky but not 70’s?” Y/N asks after thinking for a minute, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Yeah.” Hazel says softly as she avoids eye contact, glancing all over, eyes falling on Y/N’s shoes though, as the red converse had a lot of doodles all over them.

“Can I see what else you have?” Y/N asks, a bit more serious now as Hazel hands her the papers and notes without saying anything. She reads over, her fingers tapping against the paper as she figures out the beat and the drum parts Hazel had so far. “I think the only “funky” kind of part should be the guitar. But even then less funky and more fun. Do you listen to Paramore?” She asks as she looks over at Hazel.

“Wh- Yeah, I do.” Hazel says as her head snaps up and she nods.

“I don’t know if this will make sense, but maybe coming up with something that sounds like how their album cover for After Laughter looks?” Y/N says as she shrugs and furrows her brows a bit.

“I- That does actually, yeah.” Hazel says as she nods.

“Like, hold on, let me think.” Y/N says as she furrows her brows for a moment. “Can I see that quick?” She asks as she gestures to the guitar. 

“Oh, yeah, here.” Hazel says as she hands her the guitar, heart unintentionally racing a bit as their hands accidentally brush against each other.

They spend a while going over random chord progressions and different melodies, until after a while, they had created a pretty solid backbone for the guitar part of the song, that Hazel and the others could flesh out more later. As time goes on Hazel gradually relaxes more, being able to focus on the song and music helping her distract herself from her nerves, and allowing her to start cracking jokes more and actually engage in conversation outside of the song and music stuff.

By the time Josie and PJ arrive, Y/N was telling Hazel about crazy fan experiences, and wild things that had happened to her and her friends over the years, laughing as she mentions the time she had created a fake twitter account and started beef with herself and how pissed the fans got at her burner account. 

“Hey, Hazel- Oh. Hi?” PJ says as she walks in, doing a double take when she sees Y/N.

“Hi.” Y/N says with a smile as she looks over at PJ and Josie. “I’m Y/N. I’m friends with Hazel.” She says as she smiles and gestures to Hazel, the statement making Hazel smile.

“We know. You’re in Nymphology.” Josie says as she nods a bit nervously.

“Mhmm.” Y/N says with a nod. “You’re Josie, right?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Josie says as she nods.

“Isabel’s told me about you.” Y/N says with a small giggle, making Josie blush and get a nervous smile on her face as she looks away, clearly worried about the fact Isabel had mentioned her to her bandmates.

“I’m PJ!” PJ quickly says as she stares at Y/N.

“Anyways, um, you should probably go, thanks for the help.” Hazel says quickly as she gathers the papers scattered around them.

“Oh, yeah of course, anytime.” Y/N says with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. It was fun, I’ll see you soon probably.” Hazel says as she quickly gets up, immediately nervous and embarrassed again now that PJ and Josie were there.

“If you need any more help, let me know. It was nice meeting you guys.” Y/N says to Hazel before turning and smiling to PJ and Josie as she walks out, shutting the door behind her after waving bye.

“What the fuck?” PJ says in shock as her and Josie immediately look at Hazel, who was now heavily blushing as she fiddles with the shirt she was wearing.

I genuinely love writing this story its sm fun. I love Hazel she's so cute. Also I fr have no clue how record label stuff works so I'm kinda just pulling this out of my ass lmao. I'm like "yeah I watched Daisy Jones and The Six and can google basic steps for this, good enough" and then just hoped it would be accurate dfdhsfkjhej. dividers from @saradika and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more graphic made by me lol

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Confessional Feelings

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: You find your feelings for Alec exposed after running into him after his date.

CW: serious pining, angst, eventual fluff tho

Broadchurch tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You shouldn’t be out here, you know. You know this. Alec had requested that everyone take safety measures when there’d been yet another predator marked as on the loose and actively looking for crimes to commit. And yet here you were.

Alec was on a date. You’d thought that maybe if you were great at your job and made yourself available to him for whatever he needed, he might get a clue and ask you out. That would be nice. You’d had feelings for him since he’d arrived in Broadchurch. You’d seen right through his irritable surface to the soft gooey centre. Not that you’d told him that you’d taken to calling him a Mars Bar or anything. You don’t think he’d care for that. 

But he was on a date tonight, and you just needed to go for a walk to clear your head about the whole thing. You had to at least try and get him off your mind. For a few hours, anyway, until you saw him at work in the morning. At least he wasn’t the chatty type. You weren’t sure if you would have been able to handle hearing him talk about his date all day. 

Turning the corner, you walk right smack back into someone coming the other way. You yelp, and the person shouts. Though it sounds distinctly familiar. Pressing your hand to your chest, you blink a few times to try and wash the shock away. When your vision clears, you see none other than the object of your feelings and the reason for your very late stroll standing before you. 

“Jesus, what’re you doin’ out here so late?” Alec asks shortly, still getting over the shock himself. He looks angry, but you think that’s just because you’ve scared each other half to death. “Och, what have I said? There’s a- a killer!” 

Your mouth gapes open and shut a couple of times, trying to find the words. 

“Going for a walk,” you settle, waving your arms as if that was obvious. Alec blinks, and before he can open his mouth, you blurt, “how was the date? I- uh, your date, I mean. That you were just on. That you’re coming from.” 

“Fine,” is his response. “It was fine, yep- good.” 

You cock a brow in silent question. Alec sighs and pinches his nose. 

“Just, not- Oh, I don’t know. Y’ken what I mean,” he attempted. A flush was creeping up his cheeks. You shook your head, no. “Oh, look, we just didn’t click.” 

“Right,” you trailed off slowly, a blush creeping up your own cheeks now. That meant there was still a chance. Possibly. Of course, for there to be a chance, Alec had to be interested. 

Alec chewed on his lip awkwardly for a moment. 

“Can I walk you home, then?” 

You nodded without hesitation. Alec gestured for you to lead the way. You turned around to go back the way you came. Maybe this was your chance to confess how you felt. 

“So, why didn’t you click?” You asked. “With your date.” 

Alec sighs, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. It’s something he does when he’s nervous, you’ve noticed. 

“I dunno,” he replies at first, as though thinking about what to say. “Sounds horrible to say, but, she just didn’t interest me.” Alec seemed to be growing more anxious by the second. 

“I get that,” you comfort quietly, kicking at a pebble on the path. The cool night air makes you shiver, and Alec shrugs out of his jacket to place around your shoulders. He averts your gaze when you pull it around yourself tighter. It doesn’t fit the whole way around, what with him being a complete beanpole, but the warmth seeping through the coat into your skin was heavenly nonetheless. 

You snuggle tighter into the coat. You swear Alec smiles to himself, but when you look to check it’s gone. Almost like he’s hiding it from you. 

You walk in silence for a couple more minutes, hands almost brushing as you do so. He’s straying closer to you than usual. Maybe it’s the cold, maybe he’s subconsciously moving closer for warmth now you’ve unintentionally stolen his coat. But the way his forefinger brushes against the back of your hand tells you otherwise. Oh, this might be your time to shine. 

“Can I-” 

“Look, I-” 

You both speak over each other, and you purse your lips shut, forcing yourself to stay quiet and let him go first. 

“Sorry, erm- do you mind if I?” 

You gesture to go ahead. The pace slows as you get closer to your house, only a few numbers up. Alec looks like he’s fidgeting on the spot, nervous energy fizzling out of him like a shaken soda. 

“So, this date, erm-” the man rubs at his cheeks as if trying to give himself strength. “It didn’t work because, well…” 

You’re trying to dissect him with your eyes, whole being hinged on the hope that he’s about to say. He stumbles over his words for a few more moments before you put him out of his misery. 

“I- are you trying to say you have… feelings for me?” You’re almost too terrified to hear the answer, your heart feels like it's lodged in your throat, chest swelling like a balloon. 

Alec looks at you, looks away and then chews on his bottom lip for a moment. 

“S’pose that’s what I’m tryin’ t’say, yes.” 

You cannot help the splitting grin that spreads its way across your cheeks. Alec looks embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. You haven’t been as overjoyed as you are at this moment for a very long time. 

“Are you joshing me right now?” That would not be cool. 

“I-no, sorry- I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No,” you say, holding a hand up to stop him right there. “I-I’m glad you did. I, uh,” a nervous giggle bubbles out. “Have feelings for you too.” 

“Oh, y’do? Wasn’t expecting that,” a small smile is spreading over his face too now. A pretty thing. 

You stop in front of the gateway to your house. Alec hovers as if not sure what to say. 

“I do,” you reiterate, blush flushing up your skin. “And I’d really like to, um, kiss you. If you wanted?” 

Alec doesn’t waste any time, surging in to press his lips to yours. One hand raises to brush against your cheek, the other to hold you by the back of the neck, keeping you locked together in your embrace. You melt into him, lips moving back against his own. 

The coat falls from your shoulders and Alec breaks away with a smile. A real, genuine smile. He reaches down to pick the coat back up. 

“Would you, uh- wow- I can’t believe that just happened,” you giggle uncontrollably. “Would you like to come in? Just for a cup of tea? Oh, please say yes.” 

“Oh, I’d love to. Come quick now, let's get you in out of the cold, eh?” 

You nod agreeably, bounding up the steps and unlocking the door. Alec follows, folding the coat over his arm. 

You get about halfway through making that cup of tea before the both of you are making out in the kitchen, Alec having you pressed up against the counter. After months of pining, you really can’t believe this was happening. 

It really made you wish you’d cleaned your bedroom this morning. Not that Alec seemed to mind, given that both of your clothes ended up all over the floor anyway by the time midnight rolled around. 

[rafferty3207]

omg I'm the anon who requested the jamie x reader neighbours fic and boy you delivered! fucking love it! can't wait for part 2

This is so lovely anon, I'm so glad you liked it!!! For you, I will deliver a part two with the caveat that I'm so sorry I got carried away and now it will be in three parts (sorry again), but the last part will be the finale!!! Anyway I present to you:

Too Good to Be True (part two)

read part one here

warnings: allusions to abuse, mention of anxiety/panic attack, daddy issues, two hopeless idiots flirting, a bit of angst at the end but worth it (sorry again)

A/N: I have nothing to add except this gif is not mine and has turned me feral

It’s been several days since you left your phone number and you are nervous. 

You don’t get why you care so much.

It’s just Jamie, your annoying neighbour. Your annoying, but also extremely handsome neighbour. Your annoying, handsome neighbour who massaged your feet, and your legs, and almost your thighs and god you couldn’t think straight. You’d been able to get nothing done as you had spent the last few days just constantly replaying that evening in your head. And to make things worse, it turns out Annoying Handsome Jamie was in fact a very famous Premier League footballer. Who has also been caught having sex on TV. (Yes, you had binged the entirety of his Lust Conquers All series since that night, but that was neither her nor there.) 

After almost a week you had given up. The exhibition was just under two weeks away and you hadn’t seen him in the garden or outside the house at all. He had probably come to the conclusion that you were both too weird and too normal for him and the only conclusion was move on with your life and forget his stupid sexy face ever existed, when you got a text. 

u free tonight

Jxoxo

Of course, you wanted to play it cool. After all, you had spent the entirety of the week waiting for this message.

29 minutes and 59 seconds later.

I might be.

The phone immediately pings.

do u not know??

xoxo

Depends, what are you thinking?

thought u wanted a model

Xoxo

Of course, he was thinking about the painting. As you also definitely were. You were a professional artist. Almost.

What time?

ill come after the match

You spend your evening preparing and also perhaps figuring out an outfit that says 'casual bohemian artist that definitely doesn't care' while redoing your makeup twice. However, as the hours stretch on and on and on you are at the point of giving up and going to bed, when the doorbell finally rings.

You race down, before waiting a minute, quickly checking yourself in the mirror and pulling out your phone to pretend you had already been looking at something when you open the door.

But before you can pull the casual act, he walks right past you.

“Hello to you too, Jamie.”

He strides into your living room where the canvas is set up and immediately starts taking his clothes off.

“Woah, what do you think you’re doing there?”

“Er, I thought you were painting nudes?”

“Er no-”  At this point his shirt has already come off and he’s starting to unbutton his trousers. Of course he is very toned, with tanned arms and neck where his football shirt has been. You feel the breath knocked out of your body, glimpsing the very top of his boxers as you struggle for words.. He looks at you confused. Eventually you stutter an answer. "K-Keep the trousers on, okay?” 

“What should I do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I pose, like?” You shrug.

“However you want to, Jamie.”

“I dunno what I want.” You sigh.

“You just need to stand there and look pretty.”

“Well I do that all the time, so.”

“Great. So just…keep doing that.”

Jamie smiles to himself.

“What is it?”

“So you do think I’m pretty?” He smirks at you. You fold your arms.

“What are you, a sixteen year old girl Jamie?” You start sketching. “Besides, you know what you look like.” You go back to drawing in silence. You swear you see his cheeks dust pink for a second before he ouffs his chest back out and smiles.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I think you’re pretty?”

You freeze.

“No, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m not sixteen. I am an adult woman and I don’t need random men for unsolicited affirmation, no matter how pretty they are.”

Jamie opens his mouth, before closing it again. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but what else could you say? Tell me how pretty you think I am Jamie. Or better yet, show me. I’m dying to know. You could practically feel the feminism leaving your body.

You dismiss these thoughts and get back to sketching. You can see Jamie is looking down and acting fidgety, swinging his arms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You walk over and plant your arms on his shoulders. He is surprisingly warm and firm to the touch, and you try not to blush. “Is it okay if I move you?”

He nods, surprisingly quiet. You turn him ever so slightly, before gently pushing him down onto your stool. As you move one of his (very muscly) arms, you swear you feel a slight tremor. Was he shaking? You step a little closer, a hand on his back. 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Jamie.”

His face hardens.

“But I said I will, so I will.”

“But you don’t have to. Only do this if you want to.” You smile at him, and his face softens again.

“I do want to, trust me. It’s just been a long day.”

“Okay, but if you need to stop or take a break, just say the word.”

You step back to your canvas. You try to focus solely on the drawing, but every time he looks at you, you find your whole body heating up. Despite this, you steal glances anyway. He stares at you constantly, in a way that makes you feel stupid and giggly. Observing all the soft and hard lines of his body, you eventually start to notice small scars all over his body until you reach his hands. You don’t know why it took you so long to notice, but his knuckles are slightly bruised.

“Jamie?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell me about your day.”

“Why? It was dead boring.”

“I don’t know. I find it helps me find the right mood.” You prepare your brushes. “You know, it tells me what colours to use.”

“Oh. I mean, nothing much happened.” He looks down at his feet. “I got up, went to play football, came here.”

“But why did you text me? Why today?”

“I dunno.” You sit in silence for a moment, as you mix the colours. “I mean, my dad came to the match.”

“Right.”

“Pulled his usual shit.”

“Usual shit?”

“Just being a complete dickhead.” You start painting. 

“In what way?”

“Saying stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Just the usual stuff.”

“You keep saying “usual” Jamie. I don’t think whatever he said is usual for most people.”

“What about your dad? He said that thing about you being a teacher right? Because you couldn’t paint or summat?” You put your brush down. 

“Yeah he did say that. He says a lot of shit, none of which I would consider usual. Or at least it shouldn’t be.” You step off your chair and towards Jamie, reaching gently for his hand. “We don’t just have to take this shit, you know.”

“I don’t fucking take it!” He pulls away. You flinch back. He looks alarmed as he realises. “I should go.” He starts to walk out.

“Jamie, I didn’t mean to upset you -” You walk after him as he paces towards the door. He halts at the entrance.

“I’m not upset,  I just - I came here because I didn’t want to think about my dad. When I’m with you, I never think about him. Or anything else, really.” He pauses. “I’m sorry.” Before you can reply, he runs off. 

The next few days pass by. You send a few texts to Jamie, but no reply. The exhibition is only a couple of days away now, so you try to keep yourself busy. But his words won’t stop swirling in your head to the point you struggle to sleep. So you do what you always do: paint. 

It’s not until one of these nights when you're up late at the canvas that you glance out of the window. Your heart stops. Someone is lying in Jamie's garden, very still. You dare to look closer. Is that..Jamie? He looks glassy eyed. He can't have...Without thinking, you run down.

"Jamie! Jamie!" Your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you can't hear anything else. "Jamie are you okay?" You ask as you scramble to climb the fence. However just as you are almost over, you catch your foot, spectacularly falling over it into the bushes.  You hear that trademark laugh.

"Why are you laughing? I thought you were dead, dipshit!" You say, crawling out of the shrubbery. 

He remains lying down but he’s smiling at you now.

"Why would you think I was dead?"

"Why are you lying in your garden on your back completely still at 2am? Let's not pretend this is normal." You crawl down next to him.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

He looks away from you.

“I mean everyone else does, why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think they do.”

“There’s my dad. Plus, I’ve read Twitter.”

“You know how I feel about your dad and Twitter is full of very stupid people. But never mind them. I can promise you I don’t. And let’s be honest, I’m the only opinion that matters.” He scoffs as you offer him a pinky. But, he puts his pinky in yours before looking back up at the night sky.

"I can't get up."

"What? Are you injured?"

“No…I dunno, I told you it was stupid."

“It's clearly not that stupid. Are you okay Jamie?”

"I dunno. I was thinking about the other night with you and my dad and then I came outside because I needed some fresh air and then I lay down and started thinking about everything and now it feels like I'm stuck here. It's stupid -"

“Stop saying that.” You lie down and grab his hand. “Sometimes when you've gone through some shit, it comes out of your body in weird ways. But you're okay. We can stay here for as long as you like, but when we get up, you will be able to.”

He nods, and the two of you lie there holding hands in silence. You take some deep breaths and he follows. Eventually a small voice pipes up.

“I think I can go in now.”

You sit up and slowly pull him.

"See?"

He smiles at you gingerly before he looks down.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?”

You look down. Both your knees are cut, along with one of your palms and your wrist.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

He gently holds your wrist up to the light. He looks sad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I need to work on my graceful dismount. Either that or just walk around to the back door.”

“I mean, I dunno, I think you could give Simone Biles a run for her money.” You swat him.

“Oi, you cheeky shit! Next time I’ll just leave you for dead.”

“I think the blood loss is going to your head, we should treat that ASAP.” He leads you into his house. “I think I’ve got a first aid kit upstairs.”

He starts walking up and you follow him. He seems surprised. You realise your error.

“Oh, I can wait downstairs if you like.”

“Er, no, it’s fine.” He steps into a bedroom and starts rummaging around in what is clearly an ensuite bathroom. You sit on the edge of his bed and look around. There’s pictures of him and his mum, as well as some pictures with the team and one with a slightly older moustachioed man.

“Is that your dad?”

He pokes his head out and laughs. 

“No, that’s our coach Ted.” You look up at him. “He’s a nice guy though. Annoyingly nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” It was clear Jamie was soft on this man, but you wouldn’t push it today. He sits down and starts gently wiping the cuts. It is the same tenderness he held your foot, and it is the same tenderness that is slowly melting your heart. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were starting to fall for Jamie Tartt.

You yawn as he applies the final plaster. “Right, you need to go to sleep.” He says, through his own yawn.

"I could say the same for you"

You sit up to leave, but hesitate. YOu feel Jamie’s about to say something.

“Hey, I don’t suppose.. You’d maybe fancy…”

You turn around.

“Staying around?”

Jamie looks at you pleadingly.

“No funny business I promise.” He looks up and offers you a pinky.

“What if I want funny business?”

“Eh?”

“I’m just messing with you Jamie. Besides, I’ve already stolen your knickers anyway.”

“Someone told me that’s a weird thing to say to people.”

“Well, that person sounds very wise.” You look around. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He gestures towards it and you go in. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you think: what the fuck is going on here? You splash some water on your face and tell yourself to get a grip.

“There’s a spare toothbrush in the blue pot if you need it.” Jamie calls through the door.

“Ew gross Jamie, I don’t want to use one of your many girlfriend’s toothbrushes!”

“I’ll have you know that’s brand new as I don’t have any girlfriends at the moment. Although there are sanitary towels if you need them love.”

“Piss off you patronising git!”

“‘Ey, I was trying to be nice and a good feminist and that.”

You brush your teeth before coming out and leaning against the doorframe.

“No girlfriends? What happened to the Island’s top scorer?”

He groans before flopping back onto the bed.

“I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

“I’ve been doing my research.” You get into the bed next to him. He flashes you a dirty grin.

“Bet you have, you little perv.”

“Me? The perv? What you did in that jacuzzi was a crime to my eyes, and probably in several countries.”  

“Woah, you have been doing your research - that was like episode 42? 43?”

“What can I say, you make good television?”

Jamie pulls the duvet back before hovering for a moment. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He gestures to the bed.

“I know. But I’ve been in your position before, and I really needed a friend back then. And I think you would do the same.”

“Any time.”

You squeeze his hand.

“Now go to sleep, you menace.”

“Aye aye captain.”

____

You wake up and find yourself once again not in your own bedroom. In fact, not only are you not in your own bedroom, but you appear to be cuddling Jamie Tartt. You panic silently. Your leg is swung over his, while his arm is draped over you. You try to move, but still asleep, he squeezes you a little tighter. And then something really surprising happens.

He kisses you. Just a little kiss on the forehead, but your chest is fluttering.  You hate to admit it but, it feels just so natural. You’re so content and relaxed in his arms then…

Fuck. You fell back asleep. You’re in the exact same problem as before.

This time however, you are both awoken by Jamie’s phone going off. He reaches to switch it off, eyes still closed, but then it rings again. And again. The third time his eyes shoot open.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” You ask from behind bleary eyes.

“The match!”

You slowly sit up and watch him run around and get dressed, silently handing him things on occasion. He runs downstairs and you plod along after him, still half asleep. He runs out of the door, before abruptly stopping and turning around.

“Aren’t you going to wish me good luck or something?”

You wrinkle your nose at him in confusion.

“I don’t need to. You’re going to smash it anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

You shrug and smile. 

“I just know.”

At this point, he strides right up to you, before cupping your face in both his hands. 

“Jamie what are -” Before you can finish, he kisses you, hard. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt into the kiss, before he pulls away, but only just. His arm reaches around the small of your back and his forehead touching yours, he whispers.

“Wait for me.”

He runs off to his car, and you stroke your bottom lip, where you trace the swell of where he used to be.

Your heart is still pounding and you are unsure what to do with yourself, so you try to make yourself at home. You take a very long, hot shower before getting changed. Of course, you didn’t have any clothes here, so you find some pyjama shorts along with one of Jamie’s old jerseys.

You sit down to watch the match. You had never really gotten into football, but now you were glued to the screen. You couldn’t believe that the little Jamie on screen was the same one who shared a bed with you last night. And the same Jamie that kissed you…

The game is electric, and Jamie in particular is the standout player. Even the commentators remark on his zest this match as he keeps skilfully weaving through the players to lead Richmond into not one, not two but three goals.

Once the match is done, you watch, still glued to your seat when Jamie is invited to an interview.

“Jamie the way you played today was extraordinary, against Man City too. If you don’t mind us asking, what happened?”

“Ah well, I was really inspired by Simone Biles. She’s honestly changed my life.” At that moment, he turns straight to the camera, grins and winks, and you feel like he’s somehow winking right at you. Your heart skips a beat. You were really in trouble.

You look at your phone and Jamie Tartt is trending. Simone Biles herself has already tweeted reminding everyone she is a married woman and has never met Jamie. There are plenty of other women, including some famous other gymnasts and celebrities offering their Biles-like services to Jamie in some rather explicit tweets. You wonder if Jamie reads these ones too.

You walk to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and as you wait for the kettle to boil, you look at Jamie’s calendar. There’s all sorts of notes, primarily training and matchs but you notice your exhibit is there too, with a little heart drawn around it. Jamie never stopped surprising you. But then a cold shock goes down your spine. You remembered today’s date. You are meant to be going to the gallery this evening to plan the exhibition. Shit. You check the time. You’ve still got three hours left, but you need to get back into your flat ASAP. You scramble around before realising that you had left your phone in the flat last night in the chaos to get out. But you also remembered Jamie and what he had said.

Wait for me.

You write a little note and stick it on the fridge.

____

Jamie comes back way later than he planned. Of course, after the match, there were drinks and celebrations but he couldn’t concentrate on them, just trying to leave to get back to you. He finally manages to break away, but when he gets home, he finds the living room empty. He searches around the rest of the house, and you are nowhere to be found. He checks his phone. No messages. He gets a message through from Keeley about how he’s trending online. 

Of course he sees all the Simone Biles stuff and smiles to himself. He made a note to send Simone Biles a message in future, if this all worked out. Then he sees all the stuff other women are saying online. A lot of it is quite graphic and he wondered what you’d think. He imagined the two of you laughing together at them. Then he sees. The tabloids are already speculating. Not only do they actually think he’s having an affair with Simone Biles, but they have already posted some paparazzi shot of him with Keeley, along with long extensive timelines of his tumultuous dating history. His stomach drops. Anyone would run away if they saw this much baggage.

He tries to ring you. Once, twice, three times, No pick up. He’s desperate and pacing, until he realises he can just walk over to your front door. He rings the bell several times, before loudly knocking. Still nothing.

He can’t believe how much he’s fucked it. He knew he shouldn’t have kissed you, but he couldn't help it. No one had made him feel like this, like he was going crazy but also that he was calmer than he had ever been, like riding a lifeboat in the centre of the storm. As he walks back into his flat and into his kitchen, he doesn’t see the small corner of a note that has fallen under the fridge. He checks his phone again. 

Still nothing. What could he do?

____

Sorry for the angst kids, hope it was worth it and the finale will be juicy!! lmk if you want to be tagged in the final part!! Not sure if I've done these tags right, apols if not!!

@skewedcherries @e-mmygrey @reading-blogs @alex-sulli @cameoutstruggling93 @sqrlgrl22 @maydayfigment @aiyaiy @alipap3 @okkkkkkksure @city-of-cards

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Why?

Requested: No

Warnings: Light angst, Robot!Reader

A/N: Wow, two preferences in one day? What the hell was in my chocolate this morning?

You couldn’t fathom it. Couldn’t….couldn’t understand it. Comprehend it. Accept it. That this person, this living breathing human being, was really treating you like this. That they seemed to….value you in some way. At first you had thought of it as a joke, a cruel one that they shared amongst themselves. Tease the bot, remind them of their place. It was a game you were all too familiar with, and always ended up with a pain in your chest, right where a beating heart would be for a human being. But this person….they were so nice. So genuine in their actions, so unlike all the others you had met over the years. And they had taken care of you, patched you up and repaired you, given you a purpose in this life after you had been tossed aside like common trash, left to rust and deteriorate in a scrap pile, barely clinging to that last bit of battery life, to consciousness. You remembered exactly what you thought of before the lights inside you dimmed.

I don’t want to die.

And you hadn’t. Something that had been quite a shock to you when you woke up in a dark room. The rust scrubbed from your plates, your gears and joints oiled, your battery in the middle of a long recharge. By a cable no less! You couldn’t remember the last time you had been charged by one of those instead of the wireless charging that had become common over the years.

You were alive. You had been given a second chance. And you were determined not to waste it. But that doubt lingered in you, festered like infection in an open wound. And one day, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking the question that plagued you since the day you woke up in their home.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Treating me like a person.”

Price

Price hummed softly, the question not entirely unexpected. It’s likely that he was already questioning that himself for some time now. Ever since he brought you into his home, started fixing you up, growing so attached to you so quickly. Sitting by your bed as he waited for your servers to turn on, replacing your batteries so many times he lost count. So gentle whenever he had to open you up to fix something. Even giving you your own room, and a bed to lay on. And complete and utter freedom to do…whatever you wanted. Sure he’d always been a bit kinder to bots everywhere, some part of him unable to separate their human faces from their mechanical insides, but with you it was like it was dialed up to a thousand. He looked at you, and he couldn’t see anything but a living breathing person.

“....Dunno, Love.” He’d say, tilting his head as he met your eyes. The clear crystal blue soft and shimmering under the moonlight that shone in through the kitchen window. “You want me to stop?” He asked, seeming pleased when you shook your head. “Good. That’s all that matters then.”

Gaz

“You get bonked on the head again, Love?” Gaz would ask in return, arching his brow at you before bending over to pick up a box left at the front door. A new cooling fan for you, since yours was starting to malfunction. “That’s about the dumbest question I've ever heard. You’re a person. Course i treat you like people.” He says, cutting open the box before pulling out the small fan. “Don’t matter that you need things like this. That your insides are different then mine. You’re a person all the same. And I'd bet my last pound that, if such a thing as souls exist, you got one just like me. One much shinier and brighter, all good and perfect. I just know it.” He tells you, a bright sunshine-like smile crossing his face, and you could feel your broken whirring to life as your circuits malfunctioned and started to burn molten hot, heating up your whole body until your systems had to do a mandatory shut down just to avoid melting anything. Leaving Gaz to panic and damn near tear the house to pieces looking for the tools to open you up and replace that damn fan.

Ghost

A slow blink, a tilt of the head. Cold eyes raking over you in thought. Thinking through every word meticulously, making sure nothing left his mouth until he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you. It took a few minutes, anxiety inducing silence that would have you sweating if you were capable of such a thing. Until finally, blessed finally, he graced you with a soft response.

“You are a person.” He whispered, so soft that you almost didn't hear him. He repeated it, a bit louder when you tilted your head in confusion. “You are a person. To me at least. Maybe not to all those bellends outside, but to me. I’ve seen you laugh, get upset, excited, curious. I’ve never met someone who has so much personality to them before. And it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, because they don’t know you like I do. They haven’t seen every beautiful part of you that you try to hide behind a disguise of being just a bot. I know. And I’ll make sure that you know it soon enough to, so you don’t ever ask any daft questions like that ever again.”

Soap

“Watcha mean, Love?” Soap will ask, head tilted in utter confusion. Like you just asked him something in gibberish, brows scrunched together and mouth twisted in a little pout. “Tha’s a dumb question. You are a person. Course I treat you like one.” He says, shrugging his shoulders before turning back to your dismantled arm piece, adjusting some of the little screws and oiling the gears. It was almost funny how he could say that so casually, as if he wasn’t fixing your mechanics right this instant, his fingers tenderly stroking over metal and silicon, like he was scared he might hurt you if he pressed too hard. You didn’t even get the chance to protest his statement before he was opening his mouth again, effectively cutting you off. “I dinnae wanna hear anymore ah that talk, Lovey. You’re a person, my person. Simple as that.” He says, turning to give you a soft smile, hand reaching out to touch your cheek. His hands calloused and rough, but oh so warm. You could feel your motors backfiring, sensors heating up beneath his touch. And that grin on his face took a mischievous turn when he noticed, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “Glad we had that chat then, Love.”

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - deleted scene #1

you know you never stood a chance series

deleted scene #1: you don't have to go home

series masterlist

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 3.5k

Summary: set after the finale (like a few hours later lol) but before the epilogue. Joel catches a moderate but not life-threatening illness that forces you to tackle a subject you'd rather avoid.

Warnings: established relationship, angst, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, poor communication, p in v, illness, anxiety, avoidance of feelings, major life decisions

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

When you see Tommy’s smug face at dinner, you turn on the heel of your boot to leave.

“Where’re you going?” Ellie says, coming up behind you. “You eating outside?”

“Sure, yup, that’s it,” you say, clutching your tray with both hands.

“Cool! Joel, I’m going to eat outside too,” she calls over her shoulder.

You risk a glance to see Joel looking at the two of you, brows wrinkled. He shrugs, and Tommy shakes his head at you.

“Chicken,” he mouthes.

You flip him off and go find a patch of grass to picnic on.

Ellie talks while she eats, food occasionally spraying out of her rapid-fire mouth. You’re more than happy to sit quietly and listen, to hear about the other kids she’s met and the neat things she’s found in her new room.

Your fortune doesn’t last. Tommy comes out of the hall with his hands in his pockets, still smirking.

“Ellie, why don’t you go grab some dessert?” he says as he helps himself to a seat on the ground.

“No thanks,” she says, looking between you.

“It’s pie,” he says.

“No thanks,” she says again. She puts on a very unnerving fake smile made worse by her widened eyes.

“He’s trying to get you to leave—“ you start.

She interrupts. “I know. I wanna hear whatever it is.”

“He’s trying to get you to leave so he can ask me about grownup stuff.”

Her nose crinkles as she catches on. “Ugh,” she groans and hauls herself to her feet before going inside. She takes both of your empty trays with her, and you feel a little sting of pride, however misplaced.

“So,” Tommy grins. “Nothin’ between you ‘n my brother, huh?”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “Shut up.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

You look up, and the smugness is gone. “What all did he tell you?”

“Just that y’all had ‘some kinda situation’ back in Boston. And that you stayed over there last night.”

You snort and shake your head. “I guess ‘some kinda situation’ is about right. I didn’t want to tell you I was fuckin’ him for rent.”

His eyes widen. “Shit.”

“Yeah. And for food, before that. Didn’t want you to think I was a whore, I guess.” You’re sitting with your legs crossed, but it doesn’t stop your knee from bouncing as you look anywhere but Tommy.

“Hey, no,” he says, leaning forward. “Look, ain’t nothin’ wrong with surviving however you got to.”

You feel a wretched sting at the corner of your eyes. He was always so goddamn genuine, but it was still hard to accept his words at their value.

He scoots over and grabs your hand. “I mean it. I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

“That why you don’t wanna move into their place?”

“What?”

“I was gonna offer to help move your stuff, but Joel said you told Ellie you were stayin’ put.”

“Do you need me to? To make room for someone?”

“No! No, you can stay. I just figured you’d want the company. And well, Joel said—“

You wait, but he pretends to be distracted by a honey bee.

“Joel said what?”

“Just, he thought you would. Since y’all lived together before, and you talked about it.”

You snort. “We talked about it? Is that what he calls our conversation from this morning?”

“I dunno. It’s Joel. You think he gave me all the details?”

“Fair. Nah, I’d like to stay on my own. Not that anyone asked me to do anything different.”

It’s then that Maria wanders out with Alé, setting her down to explore. She screws up her little face, ready to rage about being placed on her tummy before she realizes she’s somewhere fun.

Joel and Ellie come out a few moments later to find the three of you watching Alé intently. She’s given up on trying to eat the grass after several unsuccessful attempts. Her little fist would open and close, only to find herself empty-handed when she brought it to her mouth.

Now, however, she’s returned to frustration and is attempting to roll herself onto her back.

It’s not going well, but you’re all watching and encouraging her.

Ellie squats to peer down at her. “You’re like a big potato,” she says.

Joel wipes a hand down his face. “Ellie,” he warns.

“What?”

“Is that any way to talk to your cousin?”

She looks up at him, startled. “Uhh. I don’t know. I’ve never had a cousin before.” She regards Alé again. “You’re a strong potato. You can do it.”

Alé responds with a loud yell as she pushes again and then falls quiet as she finds herself flat on her back looking up at Ellie.

Her little audience cheers and claps, unfortunately startling her. Maria and Tommy shower her in praise, and you stand up, stepping back by Joel.

“You comin’ back to ours?” he says, not looking at you.

“No, not tonight.” You need the space. You’ve grown accustomed to being alone, found peace in it even, and the last two days have been a new kind of exhausting.

But you see the way his lips twitch into a scowl before he schools his face back to neutral.

“Mind walking me home?” you offer.

The tension falls just a fraction from his shoulders. “Course not,” he says. “You gotta lead the way, though.”

Tommy shoots you a look you don’t know how to interpret when you say goodnight.

“Are you going to be gross? Do I need to stay out of the house?” Ellie says far too loudly.

“Nah, you’re safe,” Joel says, shaking his head.

It’s weird. You hold hands on the walk back. It’s a quiet intimacy you’d never even considered to share with him before.

The warmth of his palm and cradle of his fingers are undeniably nice.

It’s also undeniably awkward. You stand on your porch, stiffly holding hands like he hasn’t been inside you a hundred times over.

You look up at him and appreciate the way the sunset falls across his back.

He brings his free hand up to cup the back of your head and gives you maybe the chastest kiss you’ve ever had. Certainly more than you ever thought him capable of. It kind of hurts your feelings, actually.

“What the hell was that?”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“You kissed me like I’m your grandma!”

He rolls his eyes to high heaven. “I was tryin’ to be respectful.”

“Gross. You know what? That was disrespectful. Kiss me proper, Miller.”

He’s more than happy to oblige, even though it results in the boner he was trying to avoid in the first place. He gets you pressed up against your front door with a handful of ass and your soft moans against his lips.

You break away when you hear a voice down the road and put your hand against his chest, gently pushing him back.

“Guess I should get goin’,” he says. He doesn’t move, though.

You’re all too aware of the way his cock is straining against his jeans and you almost invite him in. How you manage to find the self-control not to, you’ll never know. But it feels important, somehow, that you sleep alone tonight.

“You wanna meet up for breakfast in the morning?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says. His hands rest on your hips as he steals one last kiss. “I’ll see ya then, sweetheart.”

You can’t seem to stomach the idea of watching him walk away, so you go inside.

He waits until he hears the deadbolt click before he heads for home.

Summer withers, and autumn sees you spending the night together a couple of times a week. Always you at theirs—you never ask him over to your place. It’s a silly line you’ve drawn, and even though you know you’re the one who put it there, you feel bitter on the cold nights alone.

Worse yet, you know you’re only doing it out of stubbornness. You made a big fucking deal out of it, and now you have to stick with it so it doesn’t look like you’re weak. Like you can’t be alone. Like you need him.

And also, no one has fucking asked you to do any differently, so. Whatever.

But it’s not like you don’t know that he wants to.

No, he hasn’t asked, but he may as well have. His clothes are kept to one side of the closet. There are three empty drawers in his dresser.

His books are crammed on the top half of the shelves in the living room, stacked askew in a way you knew had to drive him crazy. The fuck you quilt hangs over the back of the sofa, though it’s more often found wrapped around Ellie.

By the first snowfall, he keeps a toothbrush for you in the medicine cabinet beside his own. There’s a Joel-shaped indent in the left side of the mattress, betraying how the right stays vacant when you’re gone.

The list goes on. The coffee mug. The little tin of vaseline for your chapped lips on the nightstand. All the spaces where nothing sits, waiting.

But he doesn’t ask.

You haven’t seen Joel for two days. It’s weird. You’re not sure how to feel about it—you’re the one who wanted space, after all. But so far, you’ve at least met at the mess hall for a meal each day.

You’re walking home after working the breakfast shift on the third day when Ellie catches up with you. You’ve seen her around but haven’t wanted to ask after Joel, not wanting her to think you only talked to her for him.

She looks nervous, though. She’s fiddling with her sleeves and won’t look at you, so you come to a stop.

“What’s going on, kiddo?”

“I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Sure, that’s not suspicious or anything.” You’re trying not to be anxious, but her energy is rubbing off.

“Look, don’t get mad; I only agreed not to because it didn’t seem like a big deal, but now it seems like a big deal—”

“Are you in trouble? Is somebody making you uncomfortable?” A thousand bad scenarios have come to life in your mind, each increasingly ridiculous but horrifying. Maybe that’s why Joel’s missing. Maybe someone laid a hand on Ellie, and he killed them. You hope he did.

“What? No,” her scoff cuts through your panic. “Joel’s sick. He didn’t want you to come by and get sick, so he made me promise not to say anything. But he’s being stupid, and now he can barely walk to the bathroom without hacking up a lu—wait, where are you going?”

“Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to give your idiot father a piece of my mind,” you growl.

She jogs to catch up with you, but her face is red, and she won’t look at you again.

Your brain catches up with your tongue, and you pause. “Hey, I didn’t mean to be weird—”

“It’s fine,” she says. “Let’s go. I wanna watch you yell at him.”

You don’t. Not right away, at least. He’s asleep when you get there, and honestly, it’s a little upsetting how unwell he looks. It kind of shakes the anger right out of you.

You promise Ellie you’ll wait for her to come home to yell at him.

The idea of climbing into bed with him is extremely tempting. Instead, you start to draw warm water for a bath and tidy up the things left behind in the wake of his deteriorating condition.

It’s not much. Even sick, Joel is relatively neat. Also, it’s pretty obvious that he’s been living in the same sweats and tee for the last three days. You make sure to set a clean outfit and warm socks on the bathroom counter.

With Ellie bringing dinner from the mess later, you don’t have much to do other than brew tea. The kettle’s on when you hear a groan from upstairs.

He’s heaved himself to sitting when you crack the door open.

“Ellie, I told you to stay out. I don’t want to get you sick.” His voice is crackling and raspy.

You push it open, scowling. “Well, you didn’t tell me shit, so.”

The glower is there immediately. “I’m tellin’ you now, then. Get out.”

“Nope. You lost that chance. Now you’re gonna suck it up and get taken care of.” You start stripping the sweaty sheets off his bed while he’s still sitting on it. “Go on and get in the bath.”

“I’m just gonna lay back down for a bit,” he mumbles.

You press the back of your hand against his forehead, followed by your lips. “You’re burning up. Get in the tub.”

But when you stand, his head follows, and you let him rest against your stomach for a minute, carding your hand through his damp hair.

“C’mon,” you urge, tugging at his hand. He lets you lead him into the bathroom, a marker of how sick he really must be.

The kettle hollers while he’s stripping down, and he’s settled once you return with the tea.

“I don’t want any shitty leaf water right now,” he grumps.

“Too bad! It has honey and lemon, and your throat’s seen better days.”

He accepts the cup, but he’s scowling.

“Y’know, you’re not very scary, butt ass naked in a tub with an owl on your mug,” you remark, sitting on the floor and leaning against the cabinet so you can see him.

“You shouldn’t be here. You’re going to get sick. Did Ellie squeal?”

“Joel, I haven’t seen you in three days. Did you think I wasn’t going to get worried?”

His scowl pouts. “I didn’t mean to worry ya.”

“Yeah, well, you did. So. Don’t do that again.” You purse your lips and look at your tea.

“Hey,” he says, water sloshing as he shifts to get a better look at you. “You don’t gotta do… all this,” he says, gesturing to the mug and the bedroom, where you’ve tucked clean sheets onto his mattress.

“I know.”

He’s loathe to admit it, but the bath did help. Worse yet, the tea helped. He feels a little more human in clean clothes, but you still refuse his help cleaning up.

When you’re done, however, you peel back the blanket and crawl into bed with him. So maybe it’s not all bad, he thinks.

At least, until Ellie gets home and you properly scold him.

He’s asleep more than he’s awake, so you stay. You toss and turn and check on him about a hundred times. If the fever would break, you’d feel better. Except no, you wouldn’t, because that cough that’s settled in his chest scares you far more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not privy to the medical stock in Jackson, but you have a bad feeling that an old man with pneumonia wouldn’t be high on the list for antibiotics.

Not that you think he’d accept them, anyway. He’d be too worried about using up something a kid might need. Or anyone else. He doesn’t seem to realize anyone would put him first.

You and Ellie just might let the town burn for him. (But when you think of Alé, you kind of get it.)

Anyway. When he’s awake, he’s groggy, but you manage to convince him to eat. Never much at once, so you make sure it’s soup or oatmeal. Something soft and packed with nutrients.

On the third day of your stay, he starts to come ‘round the mend. The fever breaks. He starts to stay awake for longer than a couple of hours.

You set him up with what you can and return to your life, but you can’t make yourself go home at night. It’s just because of the damn cough, you tell yourself. You just need to keep an eye on it.

A couple of nights later, he’s awake when you peel the covers back and slide in behind him, arm curling around his waist. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck, nestling in as he rewards you with a contented hum. He lets you hold him for a minute, basking in the embrace before he rolls onto his back.

You’re clinging to him a little too tight.

“Rough patrol?” He says.

You shake your head where it’s buried in his tee. “Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.”

“Don’t like you havin’ to handle anything,” he grumbles. He knows, both because he’s been told repeatedly and because he’s seen you handle the weapon, that you can protect yourself now.

It doesn’t mean he likes it.

“I was with Tommy. We were fine.” You yawn. It has to be past two now, what with shift change come midnight and then all the cleanup after.

He slips his arm under you so he can tug you closer, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. You press a kiss in the thicket of hair at the center of his chest, and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to this. He hopes not—he doesn’t ever want to take it for granted.

You yawn again, eyes watering, but your exhaustion is betrayed by the way your hips press against his thigh.

“What do you need, darlin’? Want me to lick your pussy until you fall asleep?”

“Can I ride you?” you counteroffer.

He groans, cock twitching to attention. “Of course, pretty girl.”

He helps you straddle him and reaches to peel the old t-shirt off your body so he can admire your tits in the moonlight. And the way your face goes soft when you see how he’s looking at you.

You waste no time, shifting around until you’ve got his cock in your hand and are settling atop it. You moan in tandem as he spreads you, the broad tip of him easily pressing through the slick.

“Needy tonight, huh? What’s got you all worked up?” he teases.

“Just you,” you say through a gasp as you grind down all the way.

He reaches up, maybe for your breasts, but you don’t find out. Instead, you intercept them and entwine your fingers.

He gets the idea and holds firm, ever your unwavering foundation. You use his support to gyrate, hips grinding as your thighs push around his to slide up and down on his cock.

Your palms are sweaty, but his grip is tight and desperate. His head tilts back, exposing the long column of his neck.

“Fuck,” you whimper as you get the angle just right. It makes you jerk a little, bumping that sweet spot again. He grunts, teeth gritted as you clamp down around him. When he looks back up at you, he’s positively ravenous.

“No,” you say before he opens his mouth with some bullshit.

“C’mon,” he whines.

“You’re still sick. I’m not lettin’ you cough up a lung. You’re gonna lay there and take what I give ya.”

His eyes narrow at the over the top Texan accent you saved for the last bit. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“You think I’m funny. You love all my jokes.”

“Damned if I don’t,” he grumbles, but it’s betrayed by the look in his eyes. “You, too, y’know.”

You almost freeze up but decide to play obtuse. “You’re right; I do love all my jokes.”

He opens his mouth again, so you change pace a little to throw him off.

It works.

Whatever he was about to say, which you know damn well but aren’t prepared to handle right now, comes out as a broken moan.

In the end, it slips out of you a few days later. It’s not triggered by anything; he doesn’t do anything charming, there’s no intense moment of intimacy or heroism that inspires it.

You don’t mean to say it, but you do mean it.

You’re sitting side by side on his porch, steaming mugs of tea in hand. The pale winter sun has barely broken the horizon, but you had still agreed to come out in the cold with him. Agreed it might be good for him to get some fresh air.

The fuck you quilt is draped over both your shoulders. Joel had grabbed it on the way out the door while you balanced the tea and put your boots on. It cocoons you, but there’s still a little space between you, knees knocking together but bodies apart.

You watch his breath curl out into the dawn, and it just happens.

“I love you, Joel,” you say. It’s quiet, softer than the creak of the swing. It takes you by surprise, as your tongue so often does, but you don’t try to reel it back or brace for disaster.

You don’t need to. You know.

But he freezes. Pauses.

He didn’t know, you realize, he wasn’t sure. All this time, he wasn’t saying it but still making sure you knew.

But you haven’t done the same for him.

He didn’t know.

He wraps his free arm around your shoulder and tucks you into him, chin resting on your head. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The peace lasts for about a minute.

“Now will you stop being so goddamn stubborn and move in?”

*title from "Closing Time" by Semisonic