#and spent another hour like 'hm how would i write it? okay now how do i ask for permission?

[erwinsvow]

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: lying to rafe is never a good idea.

author's note: eeee! back to writing for my man <3 this can be seen as a sequel to suit the mood of my soul as it follows the plot a little bit but not really, as there's no direct mentions of pogue!reader in this! i just wanted to write a little about what rafe would be like if he find out you lied/what he would do... :) inspired by @princessbrunette for the dad/kid trope she writes about and this one!

now spinning: prisoner by the weeknd & lana

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: smut! rafe is a lil scary in this one but it's okay <3, gripping/bruising, face slapping as punishment, daddy/dad usage for rafe and reader is called kid a lot.

“So, what’d you do the other night?” Rafe asks you the question quietly, and he sounds different than usual.

You haven’t really noticed the change yet though, so you act like you always do around him—a little dumber, not as vigilant, and using your brain less overall.

That’s the best part of being with Rafe. He makes all the decisions for you, he figures out what to do and when to do it, and you really don’t have to think around him. At first you were confused, if not a little worried. Did he think you were stupid?

But then you realize this is how he is—so overpoweringly, overwhelmingly dominant that you have no choice but to succumb.

So you go on, unthinking, saying what comes to mind. 

“I was with you, Rafey, did you forget already?” It comes out with a laugh, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

He’d just come over less than an hour ago, after dinner with his family, he had said. He always spent the night after doing anything with his family, because they made him angry and you made him feel better. At least, that’s what he always said.

So it’s easy to attribute his difference in demeanor, the strangeness surrounding your normally nice boyfriend, to a bad dinner with his family. He must have been more upset than you thought.

“Hm,” he says, slowly, curtly. “Is that right?”

“Yes, Rafey, dinner and the ice cream? Remember it melted all over your hand?” Your face flushes even thinking about it—because immediately following that incident, you had licked his hands clean. 

“Yeah, I remember. You have a good memory, kid.” 

You beam at his praise for a second, leaning your head up to stare at your pretty boyfriend for a second. But he doesn’t look down at you the way he normally does. He doesn’t look at all, instead his gaze is still fixed on the television, which is still playing one of your silly rom-coms quietly in the background. 

“Rafe?” it comes out like a whisper, but he ignores you, his grip on your arm tightening while he continues to stare off, not at you.

“Try to remember something else for me, kid. Night before last, what’d you do?” 

You freeze under his touch. Your entire body goes rigid, eyes wide, lips parting. You want to speak, but nothing comes out.

Then, Rafe looks down at you. 

“Can’t remember now? Should I refresh your memory?”

You don’t need him to refresh anything. On the night before last, Sarah had asked you for help with something in the Tannyhill library. You had gone to help, because this was more than just Rafe’s sister, she was your friend too, but when you got there, you were confused. Sarah was there, but so were all the Pogues you had seen around town, seen with her before. 

They were all digging through the shelves, looking for something in the library, and Sarah called you over because everyone in the Cameron house was aware of the fact that you knew this library like the back of your hand. Months of babysitting Wheezie and not having anything to do had led to this very situation. Until you became Rafe’s, that is, because ever since then, you haven’t had to spend another moment alone. 

So then you helped them search for whatever it was they were looking for, and when your phone went off with a message from Rafe, at Sarah’s urging, you lied and said you were at home with your parents.

The Pogues found it eventually, after almost two hours of combing through shelves and trying your best to organize them the way they were. You went home, texted Rafe goodnight, and thought that was that.

It wasn’t a lie, you tried to convince yourself. It was a fib, really, because you just didn’t want him to worry even more when he had so much going on. And it’s not like you knew what Sarah was even up to, she said it was just a little project. 

You didn’t realize what kind of project until now.

“Um, Rafe-” you start, really quiet.

You falter when you get a better look at the expression on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on the receiving end of that look—anger, disappointment, frustration.

Your eyes get watery, immediately. It’s just a natural reaction. 

“You think some tears are gonna get you out of this?” he questions, and you feel your breathing getting heavy, your cheeks getting wet.

You shake your head quickly. You don’t want him to think you’re crying for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry-” comes out before you can stop it, and you try to use the sleeves of your hoodie—Rafe’s hoodie—to wipe the tears away, thinking it’ll be better if he can’t see them any longer, but he grabs your wrist before you can.

You’re pinned in place, his hand gripping you and holding you down, the weight of his body on yours. It’s all you can do to look up Rafe with your wide, wet eyes and hope he listens to you. 

He’s never been mad at you before, so he doesn’t know how to react. You’ve always been perfect to him, for him, and he’s never had to do anything more than take your cheeks in his hand and lock eyes to make you realize you’re doing something wrong.

He didn’t think you could be capable of doing something to hurt him, to get in the way of everything he’s planning, not when you’re so compliant and docile and perfect all the other times. 

You have a collection of pretty dresses and skirts, ranging in lengths and sizes, and you always wear the right thing. Modest, longer dresses that stop above your knee and start just under the necklace you never take off—the necklace with his initial on it—when you’re invited to dinner at Tannyhill with his family.

Shorter, small skirts when he takes you to the club or the bonfire. Short enough that people are staring, not short enough to give anyone a view of what belongs to him.

In his bedroom, it’s just his clothes—shirts to sleep in, hoodies when you’re reading a book on his bed while he finishes his game at the desk, nothing more than one of your tanks and a pair of his boxers when you’re getting antsy and horny waiting for him to get back to bed when he’s on an important phone call. 

He’s never had to tell you any of that—you just do it, you just know it. He doesn’t have to tell you to go wait on his bed for him without complaining. He doesn’t have to tell you he doesn’t like when his friends are seeing parts of you they aren’t supposed to. But most important of all, he didn’t have to tell you to stay away from those dirty Pogues and his annoying sister. You were just supposed to know.

“You’re sorry?” he questions, and you know he’s mocking you. Rafe’s gone quiet, which you’re not used to because Rafe never gets mad at you. You didn’t even think it was possible.

He lets go of your wrist, which flails next to your side. His grip is replaced quickly as he squeezes your cheeks together, fingers pressing hard against your jaw.

“You’re sorry, really, is that all? You lied to me. You think that’s okay?”

Your breathing gets hard and fast under his touch. Your eyes get watery again, trying to say something but it’s silenced between Rafe’s fingers keeping your mouth shut.

You shake your head as hard as you can. You just want to explain yourself—it seemed so harmless when you were doing it. You didn’t want to worry him. You didn’t realize what you were doing. You’d never do it again if Rafe will forgive you.

Then you get scared, eyes wide and blank while your boyfriend stares at you, looking so upset and angry you wish you could reverse time and take it all bank. You worry that he won’t forgive you, that he’ll end things and leave you alone, and the thought itself is so frightening you start sobbing and shaking.

Rafe’s hand leaves your face because he gets surprised at your reaction—he thought you’d be telling him something he really, really doesn’t want to hear, but true to your perfect form, you say exactly what he does want to hear. 

“I’m so sorry Rafe, I’m so sorry, they asked me for help but I would have never done it if-if I knew it would hurt you or make you upset, I-I didn’t know-” It all comes out in a ramble, hurt coating your words and tears streaming down in rivulets down your pretty face.

He’s worried he might have gone too far, scared you too much, but you jump back in his arms the second he’s let go of you, face pressed against his chest and his shirt getting wet. 

“I’m so sorry, please don’t break up with me, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never even talk to them again, I swear, I promise-” 

It’s instinctual, Rafe wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. He wonders how he did this—changed the sweet, pretty girl he met on a trip with Wheezie to the library into the girl in his arms now—utterly dependent, crying because of him but not making a single move to defend yourself.

Instead you believe everything he says and you’re sobbing because you don’t want him to leave you. He wonders again, thinking about if he should regret what he’s done to you. 

He doesn’t.

“Shh,” he comforts, and you lean into him further. “S’okay, it’s okay.” He rubs your arms soothingly, ignoring the red down further on the limb, which is inevitably a bruise forming. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

When the words leave his mouth, you melt against his chest like butter, and he grips you tight.

“I’m sorry, kid, I am, but I have to make sure that-that, you don’t do something that could mess up everything I’m working on right now.” You mewl a noise of protest, but he quiets you down again. “Even if it’s an accident, baby, even by accident. You don’t know the things I’m trying to protect you from. I can’t let you get hurt like that, so when you lie to me about something like this, it just upsets me, because I’m working hard for you—for us, and you see that, don’t you?” 

He feels you nod your head slowly.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” and he lets out a heavy breath. You cling to his every word, wondering how you could have been so, so stupid, as to lie to your boyfriend. 

“It’s okay, kid,” his hand moves to your back, rubbing circles on the soft skin, hand tucked under his hoodie and above the waistband of his shorts that you’re wearing.

“Do you forgive me?” you ask, lifting your head a few inches to look up at Rafe, wet eyelashes floating up to reveal red-rimmed, puffy eyes.

He looks down, wondering just how much he’s messed you up.

“Of course I do.” Rafe leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You let out a sigh of relief, too soon. “But you have to promise me a couple things, hm?”

“Anything, anything-” it spills out of your mouth, like you can’t get it out fast enough, looking back up at your boyfriend with big eyes, trying to use your hands against his chest to lift yourself up. 

“Promise me you’ll never talk to those Pogues again.”

“I promise.”

“And that you’ll never, ever lie to me again.”

“I promise, Rafe.”

“Good girl.”

He does that thing again, the thing that has you melting in his hands and allowing him to call all the shots. He reaches out to take the back of your head in his hand, leaning you in for a kiss, and you let him do it, just like you let him do everything. 

Rafe kisses you hard, his tongue in your mouth and trails of spit around your lips. When he lets go, you feel him bit down on your bottom lip, and you yelp against his mouth, but it’s silenced because he pulls you into another kiss.

You’re breathless by the end of it, crawling into his lap because you don’t want it to end, craving a lot more than just a kiss and the press of his hard dick against your clothed pussy. 

When he pulls away, you make another noise of displeasure.

“Really?” he questions, and you know it can’t be good. “Do you really think you deserve this dick now? After that shit you just pulled?” He holds you in place on his lap, stopping your grinding motion with his firm hand. Your face heats up immediately, because you know that you don’t. 

“‘M’sorry, dad,” your murmur against the soft skin of his neck. “You already forgave me…”

“Not getting out of this that easily, kid,” and he pulls you by the hair, making your shoulders tense up as you moan again in discomfort. “I think you need to decide your punishment, hm? You’ll get this dick once you get punished.”

You want to scream in annoyance, because Rafe always knows what he’s doing, and right now he’s doing it on purpose. You can feel his hard-on, and if he let you do what you wanted, you’d fall apart in minutes, but he won’t, because he never does.

So you don’t say a thing, because you can’t ever be a brat to Rafe, not for anything longer than five minutes, and you crawl down, off the bed, sitting on your knees on the ground while Rafe adjusts himself to face you from the bed. He looks down at you, perfectly in place, nose still a little red from crying. 

“So, how many?” he questions, watching you stare up at him with big eyes.

“Five,” you start, until you see how Rafe’s looking at you. “T-ten, sorry, ten.” 

“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of your face with his hand. “Five on each side, hm? That’s what you meant to say, right?”

“Yes, dad,” you murmur back, in a daze at the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your skin.

The first slap, on your right cheek, is light, lighter than you’re used to. It was barely a tap, and you think quickly, while staring at your boyfriend’s face expectantly, if not a little dumbly, that it was nice of him. The next three are harder, and the final one stings. You’re sure it’s red where his hand was, a part of you even hopes it left a mark.

“Five left,” he says quietly, maybe more to himself than to you. You nod, a little too eagerly. “Yeah, kid, you like this? I knew you would. Little freak,” Rafe breathes out. You cling to each word like it’s praise. “Ready for the other side? Yeah?” You nod again.

He’s harder on the other side, maybe because he realized you can handle it. You’ve gotten much harder slaps than these before, but Rafe forgets sometimes, so he always starts gentle. On the ninth one, your eyes get watery. On the tenth, the tears roll down again. Rafe takes his thumb and wipes it across your cheek, like it’ll soothe the sting. 

You go to unbuckle his belt immediately after, thinking you should make him feel good first, as a part of your punishment, but he stops your hands before you get far, taking you by the shoulders and lifting you up into his lap again.

“What’re you doing?” you question quietly.

“I should ask you that.”

“Y-you said I don’t deserve it yet, so I was gonna make you feel good-”

“I didn’t say that, kid,” he says, pressing his big hand against your neck. 

“Yes, you-” he looks at you sharply, and you shut up mid-sentence. 

“No, I said you’ll get it once you’ve been punished. Punishment’s over, hm?” His hand slips underneath your hoodie—his hoodie—and he starts to lift it up. Your hands go up, helping him ease it off. Once it’s discarded on the floor, you lean in for another hard kiss, hands around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Easy, easy,” he says, pulling away for a second. “Have to breathe, remember?”

You shake your head and whine, pushing your lips together again. Rafe moves you quickly, your back thudding against the bed and him hovering over you.

You scramble to get rid of your shorts—his shorts—but Rafe’s hands come up and stop yours before you can. Locking eyes with you, he takes them off himself, until you’re fully exposed and lying naked against his pillow.

Another kiss, another whine. You pull the front of Rafe’s shirt.

“Take it off, please,” you whimper, because you just want to get him naked and get on with it, but the tantalizingly slow pace he’s setting is killing you. 

“Really gonna tell me what to do right now? When I’m being so nice?” Your head shakes but you don’t know if you mean it. “Okay. If that’s how you wanna be, okay.”

He flips you over in one motion—your stomach hitting the sheets before you can process it. You don’t hear anything except the rustle of his hands on his belt, the clink of the metal falling, and a groan from Rafe.

And then you feel him—feel what you’ve been begging for this entire time, the nudge of his tip against your folds. Your whole body tenses and your walls clench in anticipation, but Rafe doesn’t move. 

“Rafe—!” the whine leaves before you can think about it. Rafe’s hand reaches out to grab you by your hair, pulling your head up, his mouth against your ear. You feel your nipples harden and pebble in the air, every part of your body craving something, some touch, some movement.

“Y’know, I thought you were gonna be such a good girl,” he starts, and you feel your walls flutter. “But you’re acting like such a slut today. But it’s okay, I’m gonna give you what you want. Then you’ll be good as gold, won’t ya?” You let a whine at the thought, before Rafe lets go and drops you back onto the bed.

In one thrust, Rafe pushes himself in, and your entire body tenses up at the feeling. The stretch of your walls hurts, no matter how used to him you get, and your bones feel like putty. You can hardly hold yourself up, when Rafe starts fucking you at the brutal pace he’s set. 

The stinging of your face disappears from your mind completely while Rafe batters your pussy, his hands on your back, pushing down while you arch up. Your cheek rustles against the pillow. Nothing comes out of your mouth except whines and moans, and the occasional cry when he goes even harder.

“Just needed this dick, huh, kid?” he chokes out, pressing your face into the pillow and watching his dick slide in and out of your pussy—coated in your cream, leaking down and making a mess of his sheets. “Ain’t that right? I asked you a question.”

He grabs your hair again, lifting you just enough so you can speak. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes-”

“That’s what I thought-” and he pushes your head down again. “J’needed to be set straight, hm? You won’t ever lie to me again—” Your voice is a mess of garbles and whines, not making any sense but wanting to agree with Rafe so badly. 

Rafe’s fucking you like he hates you, and you don’t have it in you to stop and make sure he doesn’t actually hate you, because the only thing you can think about is making sure he doesn’t stop.

“Or maybe you will,” he starts, in between thrusts. “Just wanna get fucked like this, don’t you? Wasn’t enough for you to get it gentle, right, kid? You’re my little slut-” 

Rafe’s hitting that part of you that makes you see stars—unrelenting, over and over again, but it’s all of those things together—the feel of your nipples rubbing against the bed, how full you feel inside, and especially the words he’s saying—that push you over the edge. You fall apart crying, body shaking, letting out a muffled dad, dad, dad against his pillow. 

He doesn’t stop there, though, riding you through it and then pulling out, just long enough to flip you back over. 

You’re sensitive all over, your walls clenching around nothing while you stare up at Rafe, and then back down to where the two of you were connected. He grips your cheeks again, pushing himself in and staring at your fucked-out face.

He’s way too close to still be fucking you—especially raw, like this—but it’s not until you start speaking that it’s a big problem. You sound all jumbled up since he’s holding your face way too tight, and when he loosens his grip, words fall out of your mouth and he realizes what you’re saying.

“Want it inside, dad, please, please, please, fill me up—” And he finishes, leaning over you and filling your pussy up, just like you asked for. He doesn’t stop for what feels like hours but could only be minutes—you mewl at the feeling and gasp when he pulls out, cum leaking out of your hole and spoiling the sheets even further.

Rafe’s breathless, collapsing beside you and in a much better mood, because he doesn’t complain when you fall against his chest and press your face into his neck. 

He lets you sit like that for a little bit, catching your breath and letting your heart rate return to normal. 

“We made a mess,” you comment, still feeling gushes of his cum spilling out of you. 

“We’ll get it in a minute.” 

He can practically hear your thoughts, buzzing through your little head at a mile a minute, wondering what to say, how he feels, if he's still upset, probably wanting water and a shower too.

You move a little, just to get more comfortable, when Rafe grabs your face again. The side of your jaw is red from where he keeps grabbing you. It’ll leave a bruise tomorrow. He doesn’t care because he’s not planning to let you out of his sight for the foreseeable future.

“Don’t lie to me again, kid. Got it?”

“Yes, Rafe,” you breathe out. "I got it."

“Good. Now let's finish this stupid movie." Rafe lets go of your face, and wraps his arm around you. 

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

best friend!jay x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, some angst / some fluff

warnings: cussing, slightly jealous!jay

word count: ~3,5k

a/n: ahh i really enjoyed writing this one!! but the ending feels a bit rushed so i apologize for that (⌣_⌣”)

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

you and jay had practically known each other since diapers, being best friends ever since you could remember. although over the years you had been through different friend groups, the two of you always stayed inseparable. in the end, it was always you. you and jay.

since you spent almost every day together, also now you were sitting on his bed across from him, your legs casually resting on top of his thighs while you had your laptop on your lap, typing away a report you had to finish. jay, on the other hand, was silently scrolling through every possible social media site to fight his boredom while waiting for you to be done. his other hand rested on your knee, softly tapping his index and middle fingers on your joggers alternately, as if tapping them along to a beat. being so used to his skinship, his soft touch didn't bother you.

after some more moments in silence with only the sounds of you tapping on your keyboard, you could hear jay sigh and saw him put down his phone from the corner of your eye. "how long are you going to work on this, it's been two hours", he whined.

you looked up from your laptop only to see your best friend pout at you, which made your lips curl up into a smile. "okay, big baby, i'm almost done and we'll watch your annoying movie after", you replied in a teasing tone. jay squinted his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, to which you chuckled before focusing back on your laptop screen.

"i think i should show her the movie too", jay interrupted again. "hm, who her?", you asked, rather inattentively.

jay clicked his tongue. "the girl i like, dumbass"

rolling your eyes, you finally looked up from your laptop again. the past weeks, he had not gone a day without mentioning 'the girl he likes' at least once. although you knew practically everything about him - and his plans with his crush - you still had no idea who she was nor what she looked like and whenever you asked, your friend would turn down your question, claiming you'd find out soon enough.

"yeah, you should watch this movie with her. i don't want to watch it for the 10th time", you replied sarcastically , earning another playfully annoyed look from jay.

"i'm serious, jay. stop saying what you want to do and then never make a move. she might not wait forever", you added, your voice more genuine than before. jay just bit down on his lower lip and nodded, looking to the side to avoid your eyes.

suddenly, you felt bad for what you had said. you didn't want to discourage him. it was quite the opposite; you wanted him to finally take his chance with whoever he had liked for a while now. you closed your laptop, not caring about the unfinished report at that very moment, grabbed a pillow from behind your back and threw it in jay's direction, careful to hit but not hurt him.

"you should really ask her to watch it with you, instead of me. she's not going to believe you're into her if you're stuck on my ass the entire time anyways", you said jokingly, trying to lighten up his mood again and in fact earning a soft giggle from him. he grabbed your laptop off your legs and instead pulled you towards him, your head hitting his chest softly.

"whatever you say", he said, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv while you got comfortable, resting your head on his chest and putting one arm around his torso. "now, it's movie time", he said, indicating you should stop speaking now, before starting the movie he had waited to watch with you and pulling your body just a tiny little bit closer to his. and words could not describe how comfortable you felt in that very moment. how completely comfortable and safe.

you didn't even notice that you had fallen asleep on jay's chest. it was not until he moved very slowly and carefully, trying the best he could to not wake you up. you slowly opened your sleepy eyes and lifted your head a little.

jay sighed at the realization. "i'm sorry... i was really trying to not wake you", he almost whispered, his voice soft and quiet. his words so carefully spoken, as if he could break you in half if he said them any louder.

only then you realized his fingers tangled in your hair - clearly the aftermath of having played with them while watching the movie.

"it's your fault i fell asleep in the first place. i always do when you play with my stupid hair", you managed to crack a joke, despite your tiredness.

jay scoffed jokingly. "stupid hair?", he asked as if you had insulted him. "you know they're soft and it's...", he stopped as if searching for the right word "...it's healing to play with them."

healing? the fact that he spoke of something as simple as playing with your hair as healing set something off. a weird, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach - one that you couldn't really classify.

"mh..." that was all you could reply, feeling overwhelmed and confused at the sudden change of feelings you experienced.

"you know... you'd make a good boyfriend. i'm sure the girl you like would enjoy having you caress her hair until she falls asleep", you just blurted out, mind still foggy by the state you were in.

you could feel jay's chest stop moving for a split second, indicating that he was holding his breath, before you heard him gulp.

"hm, probably"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

"i'm so going to win this time", you said, self-confident, as you started the last and final round of the race, eyes fixated on the screen and hands wrapped tightly around the controller.

you were so caught up in the game that you got startled by the loud ringtone covering the sounds of the game. you tried to catch a glimpse of your phone to see who was calling, going back and forth from your phone to the tv screen - the inattentiveness causing your game character to hit an obstacle, much to the joy of your competitor. as you lost the game, you just dropped the controller in your lap and instead grabbed your phone to finally answer the video call.

"you better have a good reason to call me now, jay! i lost mario kart because of you!", you snapped, before your best friend could even greet you.

mario kart? he thought. that was your tradition. yours and jay's. playing mario kart on a friday evening. but he was clearly not with you right now. and for some reason, it bugged him. a lot. why would you carry on your tradition with someone else? but did he even have the right to claim a shared activity as solely yours and his? did he have the right to get hurt or even angry? he wasn't sure, so he tried to shrug it off.

he forced himself to let out a faked laugh. "who did you lose to?", he asked, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't a big deal for him. trying to not seem too curious about who you had replaced him with.

you moved your phone to the side, revealing your competitor, before moving it back for the camera to capture you only.

"huh? jake?", jay asked, visibly confused.

"i'll get some water and let the two of you talk", the boy in question chimed in as he stood up from the bed, giving you a short smile.

you looked up at him a little too long for jay's liking, before moving your eyes back to the phone screen. "so, why were you calling anyways?", you asked as jake walked out of your room.

"him, seriously? are you stupid or do you simply not care that he only wants to-"

"jay. i asked a question", you cut him off rather sternly.

he let out a long sigh at the tone of your voice, at the way your words left no room for further discussion. and if he thought about it, he also didn't have the right to tell you who to hang out with, after all.

"did you hear about this new café opening next week?", he finally carried on with the original reason why he called you. you nodded in response, so jay continued "they'll have like a small opening event, i wanted to ask you if you want to go with me?"

"um... well, jake asked me already", you replied, your voice now calmer and quieter, feeling almost guilty for turning jay down.

"what did you say?", he asked hurriedly, as if in a rush to find out about your answer. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "i said yes. i thought-... you can ask the girl you like?"

"oh... um...", he started stuttering, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, "i did but she already had plans that day"

you just nodded. another unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. the fact that he had already asked her before even considering you was somehow... irritating? he had asked her. not you. you were the second choice, after the first was not available. and suddenly, it crashed down on you. worries, fear. suddenly, you felt this irrational, immense fear of losing your best friend. of watching him just slip through your fingers, taking your years of friendship along with him.

"you okay? you're zoning out again", jay pulled you out of the spiral of thoughts. when your eyes focused back on him, you could make out the worried expression on his face.

without thinking about it, you just started babbling out your thoughts. "i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, jay". his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object, but again was interrupted by you. "sorry, i-"

you didn't get to finish as this time you were interrupted by the door opening again and jake stepping back into your room, a glass of water in each hand.

"you know what, jay... we'll talk about that another time, yeah? i'll see you, good night", you hurriedly hung up before he could even reply, leaving him on the other end of the line staring at his phone in surprise for a few seconds.

i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, your words echoed in his head. oh, me too, he thought.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the day of the event came and you were just finishing to touch up your make up when you heard your door bell ring; the signal that jake was there and ready to pick you up.

the two of you drove to the café in his car in a comfortable silence, jake's voice softly humming along to the songs on the radio barely audible to you.

even after you had spent an hour or two at the café, trying not only the beverages but also some treats, the two of you still hadn't run out of topics to talk and laugh about.

you were so caught up in the conversation with jake that it took you some minutes to make out the tall figure standing in front of the table you two shared. only when you looked up finally, you saw your best friend standing there, practically piercing holes through your body with his eyes.

thanks to the video call a couple of days before, jay knew exactly where you'd be on that day. and with who. and for some reason, he felt the strong urge to check on you. an urge he couldn't fight, so he gave in and made his way to the same place. he just had to make sure you were okay after all, right? that's what a best friend would do if their best friend went out with a guy that seemed fishy. right?

but seeing the two of you just chatting with each other, laughing with each other, sitting a little too close to each other... he didn't know if he should feel relieved that your suspicious date was much less of a threat than he had thought. or if he in fact should feel even more threatened. because what if you'd end up liking the guy with the golden retriever-like eyes more than your best friend?

it was your scent tickling his nose that brought him back to reality. only then he realized the hug you had pulled him in, immediately reciprocating the gesture and wrapping his arms around your waist. just a little tighter than he would usually do.

jake, still sitting on the sofa, watched the scene in front of him, biting the inside of his cheek while jay's head was almost buried in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible.

finally, you let go of the way longer than normal hug, a slight shade of pink covering your cheeks. you quickly sat back down again, taking your iced coffee and gulping it down as if it could cool your face and stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks. why were you blushing anyway?

"hi jake", jay finally spoke up, looking down to said boy, who just nodded his head in return. "mind if i join you guys?"

"actually, yeah. i mind.", jake opposed.

jay was quick to reply, before you could even open your mouth "well good thing i only care about my best friend's opinion", emphasizing the possesive pronoun as if you were solely his property, not dared to even be looked at by anyone else.

"geez, fine. i was gonna head home anyways", jake said while standing up, "have a good time together then". and before you could hold him back, hell, before you could even say something, jake was already out the door.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight and then went back to look at jay. although he hadn't intended for this to happen, he couldn't say he wasn't satisfied with the outcome nonetheless. until...

"what the fuck, jay?!"

if you weren't in public, you would have probably screamed at him. jay's eyes widened at your reaction. in all the years you had known each other, you had barely ever raised your voice at him in a serious manner. but he could tell that you were very serious right now.

"i'm... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to- he's just not good for you and-", he started stuttering out, before you cut him off.

"did you see him acting anyhow weird towards me? no. cause the only one who's acting weird is you, jay!"

he gulped. "but i'm your-"

"my what?", you interrupted again. "my best friend? right. not my parents, not my boyfriend. you're no one to tell me who to go out with!", you snapped.

"just because you don't have the balls to ask the stupid 'girl you like' out, you have to ruin my day as well?" you finally stood up and grabbed your bag. "for fucks sake, jay, get yourself together." you gave him one last glare, before storming off the café as well, making sure to hit his upper arm with your shoulder as you passed him. leaving him with a shocked face and a mind filled with so many thoughts, yet so empty, not able to say a word.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days passed and you did not speak to neither jake nor jay. whereas the latter had tried to contact you several times, jake had not reached out to you as much. you weren't happy about that but you weren't exactly hurt or upset either.

when it came to jay, a part of you was still mad at him, while another part of you wasn't. one minute you'd want to talk to him, and the next you'd damn yourself for that thought. safe to say your feelings and thoughts were just a rollercoaster at this point, and you were nowhere near sorting them out. the only constant: confusion.

the sudden ring of your door bell pulled you out of another never ending thought process. you stood up from your bed and made your way to the door, opening it without peeking through the small hole before. instant regret hit you as you saw who was standing right in front of you.

"jay?"

"hey... can i come in?"

hesitantly, you stepped aside, not able to reject your best friend, no matter how much you wanted to tell him to go home. after all, you had your reasons for not picking up the phone, not answering the texts. you didn't want to talk to him. not as long as you had no idea about what to think - what to feel.

jay entered, a big bag on his back, and just naturally walked past you and to the living room as if you had invited him to do so. you followed him with quick steps.

"i never said to go-"

you gave up as you saw him getting comfortable on the sofa already. he opened his bag, pulled out his guitar and finally looked at you. then he patted on the sofa, signaling you to sit down next to him.

"i want to show you something"

you were, yet again, confused, but curiosity got the best of you and you decided to take a seat next to him.

"i wrote this myself", he explained further and although you were expecting exactly what he'd say next, it still felt like a punch in the gut. "um... for the girl i like"

without thinking about it, you stood up again, ready to tell him to just leave, when he grabbed your hand and pulled you down again.

"i just want to hear your opinion on it", jay said in a soft voice.

"fine."

and so he began letting his fingers slide over the strings elegantly, playing the chords so perfectly, while making everything look so effortless at the same time. his voice was soft, yet carried so much power. and in an instant, nothing else mattered. not what happened at the café, not his bold act of just walking in now, not your anger.

just jay's voice and the sounds of his guitar. so heavenly. and so not for you.

suddenly, your confusion sweeped away and tears started filling your eyes when the realization hit you. and it hit hard.

the realization of why everything about his not so little crush on this girl had bothered you so much. the realization of what you had actually felt when you had woken up on his chest with his hand in your hair a couple of weeks ago. and that you were not only scared of the friendship changing when he asked her out first. even the realization of why you were blushing after he had hugged you tightly in the café.

but mostly, the realization that you wanted nothing more than to be her.

jay's voice fell silent abruptly. he almost tossed away the guitar and instead brought both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face. his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, sending goosebumps down your spine and although your vision was blurry, you could see his worried eyes fixated on yours.

"why are you crying?" jay asked carefully, as if he barely dared to break the silence.

you tried shaking your head but jay's hands on both sides of your face held you more tightly, almost like he was scared of losing you forever if he let go now.

"i'm sure she'll like it", you whispered, worried that if you spoke up, your voice would break.

jay inhaled deeply, his breath audibly shaking. "does she?"

you furrowed your eyebrows. "how would i-"

"do you?"

pang. your heart dropped to your knees. your stomach sank. your mind started racing and your heartbeat doubled its speed likewise.

pang. the next realization.

he had shown you the movie he wanted to show her.

he had asked you to join him to the event, but you had plans already.

he had shown you the song he wrote for the girl he likes.

for you.

all of those moments were about you, all along.

suddenly, the reason why he had never shown you a picture of her seemed so obvious.

the facts that he had never made a move and that he had reacted this way towards jake suddenly had reasons; fear of ruining the friendship and straight up jealousy.

as if to confirm your mind that was running laps around everything that had happened between you and your best friend the past weeks, you heard jay's soft words "it's you. it's always been you."

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave any feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

[pupkashi]

egg hunting

gojo’s never been easter egg hunting, you decide it’s time for the famous bunny to pay him a visit

a/n: hi hi !! i have no idea if easter egg hunting is an american thing or not but i felt like this would b so cute so plz let’s just go w this for now thank u friends

wordcount: 1,353

masterlist

“did you ever make an easter egg hunt for megumi?” you asked, your eyes leaving the easter commercial on the tv and looking at your lover walk back from the kitchen with a cup of water.

he shook his head and furrowed his brows, “is that like a real thing people do? i thought it was just a thing on tv and movies”

you looked at him in disbelief, “what? why would they lie about people doing that?” you laughed, moving a bit so that satoru could get comfortable as he settled into your side.

“hm, guess i just never thought about it much, growing up i never really go to do much kid stuff anyway” he stated, your heart sank as you recalled what he’d told you about his childhood, “did you?”

“a couple times” you smiled, recalling the memories, gojo only hummed and focused back on the show, not thinking much about the conversation.

a small pout settled on your lips as you thought about how much kid gojo would’ve loved egg hunts, your heart hurting for him.

after only a few short minutes you’d decided to take it upon yourself and help him heal his inner child. first thing tomorrow you’d go and buy his favorite sweets, fill some plastic eggs and hide them in the backyard.

and that was exactly what you did.

you’d spent all morning driving around finding a store that still had good candy and those damn plastic eggs and a little basket in stock. it took you an hour to write out the reasons you loved him and stuff them in each egg, fill them with candy and then write a clue as to where the next egg was.

by the time you’d finished, your hand was exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to nap. but you grabbed the eggs, hid them around the backyard as best you could before finally sprawling on the couch.

you hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep until the feeling of you being pick up woke you up. your eyes fluttered open, arms instinctively wrapping tightly around your lovers neck.

“toru?” you mumbled, blinking the sleep away and smiling as he looked at you, his blindfold replaced by sunglasses resting on the tip of his nose.

“morning sleepy head” he smiled, laying you gently on the bed before joining you.

“no get up!” you spoke, scrambling off of the bed and grabbing his wrist, pulling him off the bed. “i did something for you!” you smiled, pulling him to the backyard and handing him the baby blue basket with a cartoon bunny.

“what’s this sweets?” he asked, a confused look on his face before looking back at you. his confusion only grew as you handed him a small sheet of paper.

look by the first flowers we planted

the words were scribbled on the paper in your handwriting, his heart raced as you giggled. he stared at the paper for a bit longer, glancing up at you before refocusing on the words.

“sweetheart wh-” you cut him off before he could ask anymore questions, “just go with it, okay?” there was a wide smile on your face as he walked closer and closer to the flowers, staring at them before glancing back at you.

“what am i supposed to do now?” he asked, you couldn’t stop the warmth growing in your chest.

“angel, you have to look around the flowers not just stare at them and expect them to talk to you” you laughed. gojo only blushed as he looked around the flowers, find an orange plastic egg with a piece of paper taped onto it

“what’s this?” he mumbled, picking the egg up and reading the piece of paper. a smile forming on his lips as he realized what was happening.

you found the first egg! i knew you could do it <3 you’ll find another where the birds chirp

gojo looked back at you, childlike wonder in his eyes as he raced around the backyard, finding the eggs quickly. you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper in love as his laughter and comments filled your ears, a smile on his face when he found the last egg, placing it in his basket and running towards you.

“i found them all! do i get to open them now?” you nodded, opening the door to let the both of you in before sitting on the couch. “do i have to open them in a certain order?” he asked and you shook your head.

“however you want lover,” you smiled, giddy with excitement as you watched your boyfriend, who was practically glowing with happiness.

you watched as his smile only grew when he realized there was candy in each egg, his slender fingers opening the small scroll on paper.

i love how caring you are

he knew it was your handwriting, but he still turned to you, a soft look on his face, “you wrote this?” his voice was gentle and you nodded, motioning for him to open the other eggs.

as he opened more eggs, he was greeted with more reasons you loved him. by the time he reached the final egg he had found it was taking everything in him to not burst into tears.

i love you for you, satoru

as he read the words over and over again he couldn’t stop himself from throwing himself onto you, wrapping you in his arms and squeezing tightly. you weren’t caught off guard by his sudden affection, almost instinctively wrapping your arms around his torso and holding him just as tightly.

hot tears landed on your neck but you didn’t say anything, only prying yourself from your lovers arms and wiping his tears with the sleeve of your shirt. you press feather light kisses to his damp cheeks, you were always gentle with him.

“i love you, angel boy” you whispered, he could hear the smile as you spoke, the words landing atop his heart like bandages, healing parts of him he didn’t know were wounded.

he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, opting instead to squeeze you a bit tighter, burying his face in the crook of you neck and pressing a kiss on your shoulder.

you returned the action, letting him take his time before he pulled away with a quiet sniffle, giggling and shoving a piece of candy in his mouth.

“i just realized you’re still in your uniform,” you smiled, gojo just nodded.

“was gonna shower but then i found out the Easter bunny had paid a visit” he grinned, popping another one of the candies in his mouth.

“go shower, you smell like dirt and something else” your nose scrunching as he sniffed himself.

“might be blood” he shrugged, your eyes going wide as you got up to check him over. gojo only smiled, grabbing you by the waist and bringing you into his lap, pressing a kiss to you lips. “‘s not mine sugar, don’t worry.”

you sighed in relief, running your fingers through his hair. “well you still stink” you teased, he only pouted at your words, standing up with you still in his arms, easily carrying you and setting you in the couch.

“how can you do something so sweet and then say something so mean” he sighed, you only rolled your eyes, smiling at how hurt he sounded.

“hurry and shower, i was gonna order your favorite and then we can watch some movies until we get sleepy” gojos eyes lit up at your words, rushing to the restroom and turning the water on.

you were glad you could do something for satoru. sure you couldn’t buy him the most expensive gifts, you couldn’t solve all his problems or give him everything he wanted.

but you could give the smaller things in life, you could give him your love and remind him how much you loved him, how much he meant to you and the endless amounts of things he’d yet to experience in life.

that to gojo was everything he’d ever wanted. he’d only ever want you.

[needlab7]

hi i just finished your vwbb fic and im in shambles

the way you wrote wolfwoods steadfast comforting presence, the hole of his absence, his gentle kindess, his everything... the way vash sees and feels about him is how i feel and felt about him while reading trimax and seeing the way i love him perfectly reflected in the way vash does was an absolutely indescribable experience i honestly dont know how to put into words

the trust and the 'of course he catches him', the warmth, every time vash describes something about him as dear or darling or calls him his dearest friend- wolfwood is so so loved, as he should be, as he deserves to be...

and their constant back and forth and how considerate and attentive they are of each other when one of them misses a step, the understanding between them even when they cant say the words, their little 'wolfwood' 'hm?' thing with vash calling his name for reassurance or just because he can and wolfwood always always answering it, 'and silently slipping the promise of every year he has left into the margins' oh god...

im crying writing this, ive cried multiple times while reading, i cried after finishing reading, and i will probably cry again thinking about wolfwood and this fic, thank you so unbelievably much

Hi!! Oh my goodness, I am also crying with you !! ;v;

You are so sweet, I don’t even know where to start. Thank you so much for saying all of that <3 I was dumb enough to open this at work and was frantically fanning my face like no! you cannot cry here!

I’m so glad that you saw a reflection of your feelings about Wolfwood in the way I wrote him and the way that Vash views him. I tried to make him as gentle and soft as I possibly could while maintaining his snappishness because he really is a very tenderhearted person who never got a chance to be. Life and circumstance forced him to be violently defensive of himself and those he loves, and that driving part of his personality and the fear behind it don’t go away. But now he gets to be protective in the gentle way of a big brother or of a dear friend

This is the kind of domestic life he always should have been allowed to have. And now he is able to shed a lot of his self-protective defenses and let himself be as vulnerable as he wants and to feel safe doing it, even if it’s uncomfortable or he stumbles along the way. Because Vash will be there to catch him, too

And of course Vash adores him. But he also sees Wolfwood as the flawed person that he is, and he loves him for and despite it. They annoy each other and piss each other off sometimes, but at the end of the day there is just so much love and care and respect. And it’s fun for them in a strange sort of way to get to be angry about things that matter, but things where the stakes are so far below the life and death level they are used to. Things that they can get past with a huffy conversation or a few hours spent ignoring one another

All of their unspoken communication and awareness drive me absolutely up the wall. I had so much fun trying to find ways that they could learn to fill out and grow together when they’ve both been confined to these restrictive roles for most of their lives. And how they can recognize in one another just how hard they’re trying, and be respectful of the difficulty and thankful for the effort. 

They just…they just love each other so much ;; and I wanted to give them this peaceful and mundane future where they get to be earnest and then embarrassed about it, and say goofy things and heartfelt things and to reach out for help in whatever clumsy ways they are learning to be okay with, and to know ultimately that they are understood and they are loved

This kind of devolved into me just rambling about vashwood…

But again, thank you so so much. Truly, I am so happy that I was able to touch you in some way with this fic, and I am indescribably grateful that you would take the time to let me know <3

[beyond-dreams]

20 for the selfship kiss ask meme with whatever f/o you want ^^

STARING SO HARD... i have NO idea who i might want to do this with but i think I'm gonna go with Bolearis?? bc I don't talk abt him nearly enough-- more under the cut!

note: this was actually so much fun to write i keep forgetting how much i love writing HDSFJFD

Bolearis/Estil (Xenoblade OC) + First Kiss

It was a day like any other day, really. The hot desert sands of where Colony 4 was located brought about dust and dirt, as well as limited supplies - water being the most important. Estil, ever vigilant in his duties, continued checking the supplies that they did manage to have; sweat covering his brow from the long hours outside.

"Mm..." Estil mumbled to himself, frowning. "Of course we're out of that... and that... where is that damn supply drop..."

"Hey, Estil."

Estil turned around at the sound of Bolearis' voice - his boss and... whatever else they had going on. It was a little tense in Estil's eyes - were they friends? Maybe? But then if they were friends, then why would Bolearis throw his arms around him all the time and -

"Hello? Estil, you in there?"

"Hm-? Oh, sorry, sir. Just a little lost in thought."

"Yeah, I could tell..." Bolearis glanced at the paperwork in Estil's hands. "Still doing supply checks? The drop is supposed to be tomorrow, you know."

"Ah, is it...?"

Bolearis frowned and took a step closer to notice the bags under Estil's eyes and the sweat around their forehead - he also seemed a little faint.

"Hey, are you- woah!" Bolearis began, before catching Estil as he started swaying on his feet. His wings that crowned his head were drooped in exhaustion, and Estil felt incredibly weak.

"S-Sorry, Bolearis... Guess it caught up with me..."

Bolearis looked at the collapsed soldier in his arms with sudden panic in his eyes. Estil's face was pale, his eyes were clenched tight in pain. Pushed himself too hard again... Bolearis thought, electing to carry him back to the shared quarters.

A few hours later, Estil had woken up in his cot, a cool towel pressed against his forehead. The room still spun, but not nearly as bad. He tried to sit up, but another hand gently pushed him back down.

"Sir...?" Estil mumbled, Bolearis' face coming into focus.

"Ah, none of that. Are you okay? The heat really did a number on ya..."

"I'm-"

"And don't say you're fine!" Bolearis retorted, frowning. "You keep workin' yourself too hard..."

He sighed and sat back down on the floor next to Estil's bed. Estil looked away, unsure of how to react. Bolearis was silent for a moment, then he continued: "It isn't just you in the colony, you know. You can pass off jobs if it's too much."

"It's not too much, Bolearis, just..." Estil's wings fluttered as he thought. "The weather isn't the best for me right now, and with the stress of the supplies being scarce..."

Bolearis' expression looked slightly pained - he knew how hard it had been on everyone whenever they were free from the Clock, but pushing forward and trying to survive was their only option.

"I'm sorry, sir, things just got away from me. It won't happen again." Estil said, regaining his sense of surroundings. His head pounded, but at least he didn't feel faint again.

"I told you to quit it with that, Estil..." Bolearis replied, sighing. "You know we're not... that it's... well, it's different. With you, I mean."

"Bolearis..." Estil couldn't look at him. Not in the eye, at least. He had spent countless hours thinking of him, unsure of what was really happening, and for Bolearis to come out and say it...

"Just... take care of yourself better, alright? I don't wanna catch you falling again." Bolearis then stood up, placing his hand on the towel that lay on Estil's forehead. "Oh, it's warm. Are you... sure you're feeling okay?"

Bolearis moved the towel and placed his hand on Estil's forehead. Estil's wings fluttered almost in protest, but he didn't say anything. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay, if you're sure." Bolearis leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Estil's forehead. Estil's eyes widened - the moment lasted for only a split second, but it felt like a lifetime. Bolearis pulled away from him and began to walk out of the sleeping quarters.

All Estil could do was watch him leave, still trying to process everything and - wait.

Were they friends or not!?

[trashedork]

Moments Like This

Hello! This is my first time participating in Canon x OC week. It sounded interesting and I wanted to write for Ephemer, a character from Kingdom Hearts X, and Ophelia, one of my KH OCs that was created for that game. 

Characters: Ephemer, Ophelia (OC) Day 1 Prompt: Holding Hands

Note: Takes place during their beach day in KHUX. 

"What should we do today?"

At Ophelia's question, Ephemer smiled and folded his arms over his chest. "Hm... Let's see." His bright, teal eyes widened upon reaching a conclusion. "How about we go to the beach?"

Ophelia nodded, smiling back at the boy. "Sure. I haven't been there in a while."

"Great! Let's go!"

Without warning, Ephemer grabbed Ophelia's hand in his and sprinted towards the pier that would lead them to their destination. Ophelia stared at the back of the silver-haired boy’s head in pure embarrassment, her cheeks stained red. 

Eventually, the pair arrived at the beach. The wind was strong and a strong odor of salt wafted in the breeze, but Ophelia didn't mind . As long as she was with Ephemer, she didn't care where she was. She stared at the shimmering azure waves, nostalgia infiltrating her thoughts. The last time she came to the beach was with the Sewer Squad, but that had been a long time ago. Now that she was here with Ephemer, it almost felt like a date.

A date...

"Ophelia? Are you okay?"

Snapping out of her trance, Ophelia met eyes with a worried Ephemer and smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

"Your face is red. Are you getting sick?"

Ophelia wore a look of surprise and touched the side of her face, feeling warmth. She then gave Ephemer another smile. "No. I'm fine."

"If you say so." Ephemer sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

Tearing her gaze away from him, Ophelia stared down at the sandy surface. "Oh! Look, Ephemer!" She crouched down and scooped up what had caught her attention. A white seashell rested on her palm. "It's really pretty."

A soft expression was present on Ephemer’s face as he looked at the blonde. "Yeah."

But not as pretty as you.

"Hm... Maybe I should bring some back for everyone." Ophelia mumbled to herself, rising to her feet and searching the ground for more seashells. As she was doing so, Ephemer walked alongside her and slid his hand in hers which caused her to stop in her tracks and stare up at him. He noticed a shade of pink on her face again.

"Ephemer?"

Ephemer's lips curled into a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just... want to be with you." He didn't like showing a vulnerable side, especially to Ophelia, but he didn't know how long it would be until he would get to hang out with her again. So now, while he had the chance, he wanted to be in her presence. He wanted to feel her touch.

Ophelia let out a giggle. "Me too."

A couple hours soon passed for the duo. They were sitting on the sand and staring out at the sea. The seashells that Ophelia had gathered with Ephemer's help were piled like a mountain near them. Ophelia wondered if it was time for them to leave, but half of her wanted her to stay.

"It’s been so long since the last time we spent time together." Ephemer commented, breaking the piercing silence.

"Yeah..." Ophelia paused, preparing herself for what she was going to say next. "If I could, I want to stay like this forever. I want... I want to be with you for as long as I can."

Ephemer was shocked by her words, but a fond smile then nestled onto his features. "I feel the same way." His fingers intertwined with hers and the smile that he just wore faded away. "You shouldn’t be with someone like me, though. I... broke our promise. I’m sorry.” 

The corners of Ophelia's lips rose into a smile and she shook her head. "It's all right. I forgive you."

A weak laugh escaped Ephemer. "How can you say that even though I hurt you?" His grip on her hand tightened. "I want you to know that you're important to me, Lia. You’re my best friend.”

Butterflies fluttered in Ophelia's stomach as Ephemer called her by her nickname. It sounded beautiful hearing it from him. "You're important to me too, Ephemer."

She gazed into his eyes for a few minutes, then rested her head on his shoulder. It was a bold move, but she didn't want to go back to town yet. Ephemer thought the same thing, his eyes widening at Ophelia's action before he smiled and laid his head on top of hers.

If only there were more moments like this.

[vivacoded]

October 3, 2023

Current Mood: anxious, unsure

Day Rating: 4.5/10

Another day of very little work to do for college. I just took my quizzes (which I passed, by the way) and that was about it. This week has been suspiciously uneventful college-wise. Maybe I'll find some extra work just to satisfy my suspicions lmao. I can work on writing or programming too though!

Unfortunately, I've been way too anxious to think about such activities. See, I'll be having my first meeting with a driving instructor tomorrow. No matter what I do, I can't seem to find anything that will tell me what to expect tomorrow. Neither of my parents had an instructor, and I'm the oldest sibling, so no one in my family has any advice for me. I'm hoping my instructor will be patient with me. I'm an incredibly anxious person, ESPECIALLY if I'm going into an event I wasn't able to prepare for. I doubt he'll throw me right into highways or anything, but I doubt we'll be driving around my little neighborhood for two hours straight either.

I mean, I have some experience on real roads. I spent this evening and yesterday evening out on the road. Today I even went to some stores near me! I went up to 30mph too which, as silly as it may sound to someone who has driven for a while already, it's the fastest I've gone so far. Since it was dark out, I was extra aware of my surroundings, but there were also less cars out. I'll be out with my instructor during the early evening during rush hour which is... Scary. God, just typing that out made my heart start pounding. I really can't back out of this now, but I wish I could go out driving a little earlier when there's less people. I guess going during rush hour will give me more experience, just like driving during the dark today.

I want to learn to drive so badly so I can have that freedom, but I also don't want to learn at all. Cars are horrifying. People are horrifying. I wish America wasn't built around cars. Oh, how I would love to walk to places. I'd even learn how to ride a bike so I can travel that way.

On a brighter note, today was Olivine's birthday :)!! I really wanted to celebrate it more today, but I was too busy being a nervous wreck about driving. I actually had plans to post on my Nu: Carnival blog for his birthday too. I haven't posted there in months. Sigh. I wasn't able to focus on Olivine's birthday too much, but that's okay. I still love him <3

Hm. I thought I had more to say, but now my mind feels totally blank. Guess I'll stop here for tonight. Just more time to try and relax myself enough to sleep, I suppose!

[mad-men-inc]

🌻 🌻

HEY I FUCKING LOVE YOU

Okay so since this is technically two, and i might know who this is, I'm fucking rambling abt the superhero au and then abt Batman n ily <3

SO I HAVE THIS AU-

And basically the egos are either heroes or villains (they're v obvious distinctions, I'm a slut for cliches, sue me), but then theres *also* other people involved, aka me and my found family from discord, because I fucking love you guys a lot, and superheroes are my favorite fucking thing, so you get to be heroes too, cause you guys *are* heroes!

So so so, main character is me, Alex, aka Dragonfly, and they were adopted by Dad Squad, aka Ace, Mal, n Nic (but they arent the same people as they are oog, cause 1) story and plot mean I'm a bitch and 2) I dont want to ask or share details about their personal or professional lives, so I bs'ed it. Personalities are p much the same tho :D), and they looked up to the legend of Jackieboy Man, so they donned a red hoodie, a blue mask, and ran around helping people! It started off as small stuff, like helping elderly crossing the street, *visiting* elderly people in old folks homes, buying groceries for families that needed them, stopping ourse snatchers, the usual!

And then they meet Jackie for real, and realize *he's* real. So they bug the shit out of hin until he finally agrees to letting them shadow him for a night, and it goes well, and they save his ass from being ambushed, so he let's them stick around!

And they do some Hero Stuff by themself (which is a blurb I've actually written, n might post at some point :P), and Jackie freaks out and slowly starts to see them more as a friend than as a sidekick, and is actively worried about their wellbeing and shit.

And *then* a new villain shows up, hopping on Anti's turf and fucking shit up, and his first introduction is super fucking angsty/whumpy, theres some death and panic involved, I havent finished writing it but wooo boy it's going swell! XD

But but but, Alex gets caught up in his fire, literally, and between Jackie and the fire department, Lex *barely* gets out alive, and it's at this point I'm considering having Jackie unofficially adopt them, cause what else did you expect from this? Its dad *squad*, not dad trio XD

And like, theres small details I've written about Alex and their relationships with people and the world, but this feels like a hella long ramble already so for another time!

*So Batman*

I've been playing Arkham Knight a lot recently, and I've been trying to do side missions as I go so I'm not overwhelmed or bored by the end of the game

And it's been like 4 weeks since I touched the main mission, cause I love the side missions and just exploring Gotham, and Batman's animations are actually so fucking cool, and thE CHARACTERS IN THE SIDE MISSIONS ARE SO COOL

OKAY, SO I HAVE THE MAD HATTER DLC, AND HIS FINAL BOSS FIGHT IS THE COOLEST FUCKING THING, you fight on a story book, and the book is "Batman's Adventures in Arkham" or something similar, and the scenery is story book esq, and it takes you thru the 3 Arkham games (Origins doesnt count, bite me) stories, and the first time made me tear up, cause the enemies are the same!!!! Like, theyre in better detail, cause 2009 and 2011 graphics were awful, but they're the same theme and design and !!!!!! Its so fucking cool :D

But theres also a Nightwing side mission, and man I love him so much, and and theres a long fucking Riddler one, and since I was him for halloween I'm so excited to beat him and kick his ass

And you bet your ass i talk to the game

So hes like "No! How could you have beaten me! You must've cheated!" And I'm all like "nah bro, I'm just you :)" and it's so dumb but I love it

Funny enough, Riddler is my least favorite-favorite villain XD

Like, I love him, but hes so frustrating and borderline annoying, and I hate that word a lot, but sometimes you just gotta shut up, man! I get it, you have a cool fuckin thing planned for me, but the game is literally restraining me from the location, so please fuck off for now!

But but but, Catwoman's there, and shes so fucking pretty and I love her- AND NYSSA AL GHUL IS ALSO IN ONE SIDE MISSION, AND IM SO FUCKING GAY FOR HER, AND IF YOU DO THE MISSION A CERTAIN WAY, YOU GET TO SEE HER KILL SOME BITCHES WITH A SWORD, AND SHES HAPPY WITH YOU AND FRIENDS WITH YOU, AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH, I THINK IVE ONLY SEEN THE OTHER HALF OF THE MISSION ONCE, cause I dont want her mad at me :(

And!!!! And theres a whole scene with Robin in this movie studio, and you two get to fight together, and I'm avoiding spoilers but that's my favorite environment, and Robin is by far my fave character, and Draginfly is actually Robin in every measure.

They're dressed in bright clothes to draw attention, their main tactic is hope the people dont fucking shoot when they confront them, and they distract while Jackie sneaks up to do the Real Takedown. Alex is Robin confirmed :3

Oh!!! My fave Robin is Jason, and I cant really explain why, hes such an asshole and he was a villain for a while, but like

Idk, have you seen him? Hes such a punk ass bitch who doesnt take shit from anybody if he can help it, and he keeps his morals while still being threatening ("sell your drugs, but if I hear abt you selling to kids, I'll find you")

And like, Under the Red Hood was one of the first animated shows I watched, and tell me that isnt the bestest Jason???? Jensen Ackles??? Saying "like yelling at the guy holding the AK-47" (which, by the way, is my favorite Jason line ever, in any version)???? I love it, we stan him

This got off track real fast, fucking whoops, I'm a disaster, but thank you my dear anon friend, you're fucking great <333333

[shiftingparadise]

Feitan x Reader: Soft spot 

Okay guys, hear me out 😫. I found this Hunter x Hunter fic I wrote a while back (because I'm obsessed with Feitan as he reminds me a bit of Levi 🥲 don't know why), and I felt too ashamed to upload it, BUT I'm going to get out of my comfort zone and upload it anyway. I'm currently writing your requests, but I thought it would be nice to upload this anyway.

I mean, it's a ✨ spicy ✨ story, angsty at the beginning and noncon touching at first, but it has a happy ending 🤍✨

Word count: 5783

‘Why do you always follow his orders like a little puppy?’, you sighed, arm covering your eyes.

You were lying in the garden, a soft blanket underneath you, as to separate you from the soft grass underneath you. Eyes fixated on the clouds that floated by. You’d spent the whole morning looking at the white, fluffy clouds that kept floating by, letting your imagination run loose. 

‘Ugh’, you looked at Feitan with one pitted eye, trying to catch a glimpse of your ‘bodyguard’ – as Chrollo called him. ‘Well, this is nice’, you chuckled, covering your eyes again, ‘Of course, that asshole leaves me with you’. 

Feitan was sitting on one of the luxurious lounge chairs behind you, staring into nothing with an emotionless expression. 

‘Talk about him like that one more time, and I’ll lock you up in the basement’. ‘You really are a dog’, you whispered, slowly sitting up straight, ‘Protecting your owner like the good, little pup you are’. 

You knew you shouldn’t have said that, you knew what the consequences could be. Feitan had shown you multiple times already that he didn’t tolerate disobedience, and what could happen if you decided to do so. 

‘What?’, you looked up at Feitan who was suddenly towering over you, cold eyes meeting yours. ‘I know you can’t hurt me anymore, heard that creep talk to you before he left again. Seems like burning my thighs wasn’t such a good idea, little Feitan’. 

You tried not to sound intimidated, but your heart was racing with fear at the memory. You could still remember the look in his eyes, the pleasure when he heard you scream out in pain once the hot metal melted away the thin layer of skin. 

‘Fine’, he replied coldly while grabbing a phone from his pocket, ‘I’ll call him, tell him what a brat you’re being. I’m sure he’ll treat you nice once he’s ba-‘, ‘N-no!’, you placed a hand around Feitan’s ankle, ‘Please, don’t call him’. 

Feitan lowered the phone again, his cold eyes never leaving your pleading ones. 

‘Be grateful I let you outside, Y/N. I’ve been very reasonable with you today because I thought that by now you would’ve learned your lesson’, he kicked your hand nonchalantly away before turning his back towards you, ‘Let’s go, the sun’s been annoying me for the last hour’. ‘C-can we please stay outside for a little longer?’, your voice was shaking, ‘I-I’ve been inside for months now, I’ve missed –‘. 

You quickly stopped talking once you could see Feitan turning his head over his shoulder. He didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to threaten you. His gaze said it all, fingers softly tapping his pocket. Maybe he couldn’t hurt you anymore, but he knew what Chrollo would do to you. He heard your cries for help, the fear in your voice. He heard how you’d begged Chrollo to stop, telling him you’d rather be dead than live through another night with him.  

‘Hm, coming’, you lowered your eyes before picking up the blanket you were laying on. 

---

‘Feitan?’, you softly asked while playing with your food, ‘What?’. 

You could hear he was annoyed with how much you talked to him, and it’s not that you liked talking to him, but he was the only one you could talk to. You’d only met the other members very swiftly. Chrollo didn’t appreciate their prying eyes, nor the way they let their eyes linger a little too long over your body. Feitan was the only one that watched over you in Chrollo’s mansion when he was gone. Apparently, Feitan was the only one he could trust with you. 

‘C-could we maybe-‘, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest, ‘Talk’, Feitan ordered you, ‘Don’t have the patience for this’. ‘Would you like to take a walk through the garden before locking me up in my room?’. 

You’d tried to be defiant before, to run… But a couple of nights in a basement with Feitan had knocked that right out of you. Feitan was a cruel man. It often felt like he got off on your screams and tears. Even now that he physically couldn’t hurt you anymore, he did so mentally. Every so often tapping his thigh, letting you know he could call Chrollo and tell him how you misbehaved, knowing that his boss would punish you in ways Feitan only could dream of. 

‘No’, his answer was short and clear, leaving no room for doubt. ‘P-please, I’ll do anything. I can’t take it anymore… Being locked up inside these walls’.

Tears started streaming down your cheeks, while a soft whimper escaped from your mouth now and then. You were so scared, so lonely. Memories of your old life already started to fade. 

God, Feitan loved seeing you like this. If you were his, he would have you crying every second of the day. You looked so pretty with your red-stained eyes, tears rolling over the sides of your lips… Feitan needed to use every ounce of self-control not to taste your tears with his tongue. He could only imagine how sweet your lips must taste mixed with the salt of your tears. If he ever lost self-control and let the tip of his tongue graze your soft cheek, he knew he’d be hooked immediately. 

His boss had exquisite taste, that much was clear. You were beautiful, mesmerizing even. Before Chrollo (and partially Feitan), had his way with you, you were smart, calculated. But Chrollo needed you to be obedient, so he made sure you got your punishment when needed, reminding you of your place; below him, under his command. 

‘H-how can you smile, Feitan? How can you smile at my pain’, you looked at the man across the table, eyes filled with disgust. ‘How would you like to be robbed away from your life? Your family, friends? How would you like to be locked up inside a fucking prison for the rest of your life?’. 

It was quiet for a moment. You could see Feitan was enjoying seeing you like this. You wanted to hurt him, to make him feel like you did. 

‘Family? Friends?’, the dark-haired man repeated your words, eyes never leaving yours. ‘Sorry, I forgot you’re a monster’, you chuckled, throwing your plate on the ground, ‘You know what? I pity you. You’ll never know what it’s like to be loved or cared for’. 

Feitan followed your every move, but he didn’t reply. He enjoyed seeing you like this, all worked up in that short, black satin nightgown Chrollo forced you to wear. 

‘Fuck you, Feitan’, every lack of response driving you further away from your sanity. You waited for his fingers to tap on his thigh again, but he just stared at you, looking at you as if you were the crazy one. ‘Say something!’, you cried out, picking up your glass of wine before throwing it at him. 

‘Come now, darling, you know you need to behave’. 

You widened your eyes when you could feel his hand around your wrist. His frail appearance made you forget how fast and strong he was. ‘Y-you can’t hurt me, so let go’, your eyes were locked on the broken plate you’d thrown onto the ground. ‘Clean up the mess you’ve made. Now’, Feitan whispered in your ear, nails digging in your skin. ‘N-no’, you pressed your lips together, ‘I’m done being a slave’, you pulled away from his grip, forcing yourself to look at him. 

*Tap, tap* 

You could feel his nose brushing against your cheek when you heard the soft taps on his pants, ‘Don’t make me call him. I know you would rather be tortured by me than spend a night with him’. ‘I-I’ll call him myself, I don’t care anymore!’, you held out your hand, taking a step back. ‘If you don’t call him, I’ll break your leg, and don’t worry darling. I’ll just tell him you tried to escape and tripped over something’. 

You swallowed, heart beating faster at his threat. 

‘Give me the phone’, you said firmly, trying to sound unbothered. 

Feitan grabbed your other wrist before harshly smacking the phone in your tiny hand. 

‘I’ve already dialed his number’, he smirked at you, seeing right through your act. 

‘Yes?’. You could feel your body freeze when you heard your kidnapper’s voice on the other side, ‘Feitan?’. 

‘I-It’s me’, you softly replied, the reality of the situation now washing over you. 

Why were you like this? Why did you need to get yourself into trouble like this? You’d gain some privileges, like a bed, a blanket, some books… Why did you need to do this to yourself? 

‘Y/N?’. 

You thought he would be surprised, but his voice sounded steady as ever. 

‘Y-yes’, you looked into Feitan’s eyes, who were sparkling with joy. ‘Why are you calling me? Where’s Feitan?’, Chrollo began to sound impatient. You had to come up with something, you couldn’t handle another punishment. ‘Ch-chrollo’, you sobbed through the phone, looking at Feitan who, for the first time, seemed confused. ‘Why are you crying?’, ‘H-he… Feitan-‘, ‘I’m getting impatient, what happened Y/N?’. 

You smirked at the dark-haired man in front of you, knowing you would try to get him into trouble. 

‘He touched me in places I didn’t want to, Chrollo. He forced himself onto me a-and when I told him I’m yours he said that he didn’t care’. 

The only thing you could hear over the phone was a sigh, as if you were wasting his time. 

‘Hand over the phone, now’, a hint of anger could be detected in Chrollo’s voice. You quickly held out the phone so Feitan could take over. 

‘Of course, boss’, ‘Yes’, ‘That’s right’, ‘Okay, I’ll take care of it’. 

You frowned at Feitan’s responses, didn’t Chrollo believe you? He was always so protective, and now when you told him that his second man – 

‘You really thought he was going to fall for that?’, Feitan looked at the ceiling, ‘You’re so pathetic. Honestly, it isn’t even funny anymore’. 

Feitan roughly grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him, moving towards your room while ignoring your cries for him to stop. 

‘You brought this on yourself’, he smirked while throwing you on your bed, locking the door behind him. ‘You want to know what he told me?’, Feitan stood over your trembling body, enjoying the view. ‘What?’, you snapped back, tears streaming down your cheek. ‘Do with her whatever you want, use her if you want to, just make sure she doesn’t disrespect me like that again’. ‘D-disrespect?’, you whispered while shuffling away from the edge. ‘Boss said you must think he’s stupid if you thought he was going to fall for that’, Feitan grabbed your ankle, pulling you closer to the edge again. ‘D-don’t touch me’, you said softly, looking at the white sheets underneath you. 

‘Take off your nightgown’. 

Your eyes immediately shot at the man standing before you, hands shaking. 

‘W-what?’, you barely managed to get out as fear took over your lungs, leaving no room for air. ‘Take off your nightgown’, Feitan replied coldly while grabbing your wrist, pulling you closer to him. ‘N-no’, you tried to pull away, but your frail body was no match against his strength. ‘I’ll be gentle if you cooperate’, he let his eyes wander over your body. 

Feitan dreamt about this moment. Often daydreaming about your soft skin under his rough digits, how your hair would stick to the side of your head, eyes closed underneath him, soft whimpers leaving your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks... 

‘No’, you started kicking and screaming, giving Feitan even more pleasure. ‘Last chance’, he replied while crawling on the bed, easily pinning you down underneath him.

You closed your eyes, head turned to the side. Should you cooperate? Hoping he kept his word? You didn’t want this, but for some reason, you could feel a small and short-lived flutter in your stomach. Something you’d never experienced underneath Chrollo. 

‘O-okay’, you said softly while tensing your entire body, nails digging in the palms of your hands above your head. ‘Good’, Feitan let go of your wrists, pulling away from your body. 

You could see him standing in front of the edge again, pulling his shirt over his head. You couldn’t help but stare. His body was toned, not as muscular as Chrollo, but you liked Feitan’s body more. It was completely covered in bruises and scars, but for some reason, it suited him. 

You closed your eyes, hating yourself for thinking he looked good. ‘If you don’t remove your clothing now, our deal’s off’, he said threateningly. 

You tried to stop your hands from shaking, but it was impossible. Tears started rolling down your cheeks at the thought of him seeing you so vulnerable, but you didn’t have a choice. Maybe he wouldn’t carve the edge of a knife in your skin if you cooperated, maybe he wouldn’t hurt you at all. 

‘P-please be gentle’, you whispered while shyly pulling off your nightgown, arm covering your breasts. 

Feitan couldn’t help but let out a soft hum when he could see your body. You looked perfect to him, more than perfect even. Yes, his boss surely had good taste. He adored the way your head was turned towards the side, looking at the sheets in shame, cheeks blushing; the way you had your legs firmly pressed together, your hand lingering over your left breast while your arm covered up the other. 

‘Fuck’, Feitan groaned while he slowly crawled onto the bed. You whimpered in fear when you could feel his digits running over the crook of your neck before he gently placed your hair on your other shoulder. 

Chrollo was never like this. He never took the time to let his fingers wander over your soft skin. 

‘If he didn’t take you with him that day, I would’ve’, he whispered in your ear. 

He let his lips hover over your neck before moving to your bare shoulder, softly placing a kiss on it.

‘You like that?’, he looked at you from the corner of his eyes, his hand resting on your shoulder, ‘You like me being gentle with you for once?’. 

You tried to control your breathing, to stop any sound that wanted to escape from your lips, but it had been so long since you’ve felt a touch as gentle as his. 

‘I know he takes you for granted’, Feitan continued, his fingers now softly tracing over your back, ‘Know he doesn’t take care of you’. 

Your mind started to race. What if this was some sick test of Chrollo? To see if you were loyal to him? You could only imagine what he would do to you when you failed.

‘C-chrollo’s the only one I want’, you lied, eyes still closed, ‘He takes care of me’. 

You could feel Feitan pulling away from your skin, hand grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look into his cold eyes. 

‘Is that why I can hear you cry, begging him to stop every time?’. Feitan smiled when he could see the confused look on your face, ‘There are always people guarding his bedroom door Y/N, thought you knew that by now. He wants us to hear you, so that everyone knows you’re his. Even the boss can see how those sick fucks look at you, how I look at you’. ‘I-isn’t this a test?’, you whimpered, looking into his grey eyes. ‘A test?’, Feitan sighed at your stupid remark, ‘No, he really told me I could do with you what I want, so that’s what I’m going to do’. 

His hand grabbed the arm that was covering your breasts, breaking it free from its place. 

‘Please stop’, you quickly placed your other arm in the same spot, ‘Please, I don’t want this. I’m sorry I tried to-‘. 

Your words were cut short when Feitan placed his hand on your mouth, softly squishing your cheeks together. 

‘We had a deal’, he roughly removed your arm again, ‘I know I’ve hurt you before, but I want you to enjoy this as much as I’m going to’. 

His free hand gently cupped your breast, low grunts escaping from his mouth. You couldn’t help but feel tense, hands tugging at the sheets underneath you. 

‘I’m going to remove my hand, okay?’, Feitan coldly looked into your eyes. He loved the feeling of your tears on his hand, but he wanted to hear your sweet voice when he touched you. 

‘Just relax’, he let his lips brush over yours before he crashed them against your cherry red ones. ‘God, I’m addicted to you already. You taste so sweet, and the salt of your tears is just the cherry on top’.

You wished you didn’t melt into his touch, that you didn’t let soft moans escape from your mouth when his fingers played with your hard nipples. He was definitely different from Chrollo. Chrollo only used you, but Feitain seemed to be interested in your pleasure too. 

‘See?’, he broke the kiss, ‘I told you that you were going to enjoy this, no need to hide it. Let me hear your sweet voice’. You jolted when he pushed you down, back pressed against the sheets. ‘Happy Chrollo’s away so much’, he mumbled against your breast, softly biting the soft skin, ‘I’m going to take you whenever I feel like it’. 

‘A-ah’. 

You quickly placed both of your hands on your mouth when you realized a loud moan escaped from your mouth. ‘I’m a sick person’, your mind started racing, ‘How can I enjoy this. He’s forcing himself on me, a murderer, a person who loves to torture people’. 

‘Hm?’, Feitan smirked at your reaction, his eyes looking up into yours, ‘You like when I claim you for myself? When I tell you that I’m going to use you whenever the boss’s gone?’. ‘N-no!’, you pushed against his shoulders, trying to get away from him. ‘Don’t’, his cold voice washed over you like a cold shower, ‘Do something like that again, and our deal’s off’. 

For a couple of minutes, you could feel his hands groping your body, unfamiliar lips kissing you in places even Chrollo never had. 

‘N-no!’, you couldn’t help but close your legs when you could feel his digits running across the fabric of your slip. ‘No? Are you sure?’, he forced your legs back open with his knee, his nose now brushing against your ear, ‘Because it feels like you’ve already made quite the mess’. 

‘Shit’, you pressed your lips together, hands nervously tucking at the sheets. You could feel how wet you were when the night's cold air brushed over your panties. You felt disgusted with yourself that you enjoyed his touch. 

‘Tell me’, his voice sounded steady, ‘Are you always this wet for my boss? Because I can understand that he doesn’t listen to your cries when your body gives you away like this’. 

He swiftly pulled the fabric aside, letting one finger slip inside your entrance. 

‘Hmpf’, you arched your back when you could feel his finger slowly pumping in and out of you. ‘Answer me’, he stopped his movement before he grabbed your jaw with his free hand, ‘Are you this wet for my boss?’. ‘N-no’, another tear streamed down your cheek, ‘N-never made a mess like this’. ‘Thought so’, he whispered before kissing you again. 

You could feel a metallic taste in your mouth after he pulled away again. You knew he bit so hard on your bottom lip on purpose, but you didn’t mind, this was him being as gentle as he could be. 

‘Can’t wait anymore’. His voice sounded lower, more rough than usual, ‘Turn over’. 

He placed his hands underneath your back, effortlessly flipping you over. 

Feitan swiftly got rid of your soaked panties before you could hear him undo his buckle. ‘Relax, okay?’, he hovered over you, placing soft kisses on the scars on your back, the scars he caused. 

He could look at them for hours. It felt to him as if you were a canvas and he the artist. Every scar was carefully placed there on purpose as he took the revealing nightgown you wore every night into consideration. He wanted to make sure he could see them as often as possible. 

‘N-no’, you pressed your eyelids together, ‘Not like this’. ‘Darling I think you’re getting the wrong idea he-‘, ‘I don’t care!’, you interrupted him, ‘You’re just like Chrollo. I’m tired of being treated like a puppet’, you cried out, body shaking uncontrollably with every sob. ‘I’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and abused. Is it really too much to ask to look at the person who’s using my body for their own pleasure? Or are you another coward, like Chrollo? Afraid you’ll feel sick when you can see the fear and pain in my eyes when you're using me?’. 

For the first time in his life, Feitan felt a certain degree of sadness when he heard your broken voice. 

‘Chrollo never looks at me, always turning me around, pushing my face into the mattress. W

Always whispering in my ear how this is my fault, that he wouldn’t have to turn me around if I’d give into him’, you placed both of your hands against your eyelids in embarrassment. 

Feitan didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Instead, he slowly moved away from your naked body. 

‘You want to know what he tells me when he’s done?’, you pushed yourself away from the sheets, looking over your shoulders. 

You noticed how Feitan couldn’t look into your eyes. 

‘Sorry for hurting you Y/N. I’m so sorry for doing this to you, please forgive me’, tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you repeated the words Chrollo said to you. ‘So, forgive me if I, for once, want to look at the person who's using my body’. 

Feitan didn’t respond. He tried to get used to the new feeling you’d introduced him to, the feeling of guilt. 

He got out of bed, putting his clothes back on. You were right, how could he ever do this to you, how could he place his own desires above yours? This wasn’t the same as torture, he didn’t enjoy this. 

‘Don’t leave’, you whimpered when you could see he made way to the door, ‘I’m sorry’. ‘Sorry?’, Feitan frowned, confused by your actions. ‘I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have said those things’. 

You slowly started to realize what the alternative could be. What if Feitan decided to drag you into the basement with him again? You couldn’t handle the pain, not now. You’d rather give your body to him.

‘Okay’, he replied coldly before placing his hand on the doorknob, trying to ignore the ache in his chest. ‘W-wait!’, you quickly stood up from your bed, sheets wrapped around your naked body. ‘What?’, his voice sounded as disinterested as ever.

You tried to understand what was wrong with you. For some reason, you really didn’t want him to leave, already missing his gentle touch. 

‘Don’t waste my time’, he sighed when you didn’t respond, turning his back towards you. 

‘Wait, please’, you said softly, hand gently grabbing his. 

Feitan froze at your unexpected touch. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone grabbed his hand like that, the last time he felt the warm touch only a woman can give. 

‘Don’t go’, you let your forehead rest against his shoulder, ‘Close the door and pretend I’m yours for one night. That’s what you wanted, right?’. 

You’d stopped fighting your desires. Just for one night, you could be selfish, you could allow yourself to feel good. After all the torture, the abuse, … You’d earned the right to feel good, even if it was at the hands of a criminal.  

‘You made it clear you didn’t want me to Y/N’. Feitan wanted to remove his hand from yours, to break free from the spell you’d put him under, but your touch felt so good, so kind. Even after everything he’d put you through, there was not a hint of hate in your energy towards him right now. ‘Didn’t want you to use me’, you pulled away from his shoulders, begging eyes meeting his cold ones, ‘Don’t want you to use me like Chrollo does’. 

Feitan frowned at your words. He tried to make sense of everything that was happening, but it felt impossible to figure out what you wanted. Were you just offering yourself to him because you were afraid of what the consequences might be, or did you truly want this as much as he did?

‘C-can I touch you?’, you asked timidly, eyes fixed on the ground. ‘Yes’, Feitan responded almost immediately, desperate for your touch. 

‘H-huh’, Feitan widened his eyes when he could feel your soft hand cupping his cheek, thumb gently stroking over his ivory white skin. ‘Y-you don’t like this? I can do whatever you like, just tell me and-‘, ‘Feels nice’. 

Feitan didn’t want to sound desperate, but if you’d stopped now, he would feel lost, lonely even. 

An insecure smile appeared on your face. Feitan was normally never so cooperative, let alone so vulnerable. Because this was him being vulnerable, he submitted himself to your touch, even telling you it made him feel good. 

You slowly took your hand from his cheek while taking a step back, letting the sheets you’d wrapped around your body drop onto the ground, ‘P-please make me feel good’. 

Feitan widened his eyes, breath shaking with desire when you displayed your naked body like that. The thought of you asking him to make you feel good, knowing you’d never asked Chrollo anything like  that made his brain clouded with pleasure. 

‘I was planning to before you decided to open that mouth of yours’, he walked towards you, not realizing how harsh he sounded. ‘S-sorry, don’t hurt me’, you whimpered in fear, eyes closed while you flinched. ‘Sorry’, a warm hand grabbed yours, ‘I know I’m … me’, he rolled his eyes at how soft he was, ‘But I can be gently and sweet if I want to be’. 

Your eyes flew open in shock when you could feel his soft lips against your cheek while he intertwined both of his hands in yours. 

‘Can you sit down on your bed for me?’. For the first time, he asked you something instead of ordering you around. You slowly nodded your head while doing so. 

‘Are you cold?’, he asked while taking off his shirt, ‘N-no’, you shook your head, legs rubbing against each other, looking at Feitan who was standing before you. ‘Did you ever have someone before Chrollo?’, Feitan placed a hand in his pocket, trying to look uninterested. ‘No’, you lowered your eyes at the memory of your first time. You always thought it would be something you wanted to remember, but you would give everything to forget Chrollo’s touch. 

For some reason, Feitan felt sorry for you. If you were his, if he took you with him that day, he would’ve asked you and made sure you would’ve felt good. You probably wouldn’t want him to, but at least he would’ve been gentle. 

Feitan softly placed his hand around your neck, letting his nose brush against yours before kissing you, gentle this time. ‘Let me make up for it’, he whispered in between kisses, letting his hand rest on your knees before softly pushing your legs open. You tried to close them; it was a reflex you couldn’t control. ‘I won’t hurt you’, Feitan got down on his knees, wanting nothing more than to see your most private part. 

Soft moans escaped from your mouth while you were biting down on the tip of your thumb. Feitan was kissing softly on the bundle of nerves between your legs. You’ve never felt anything like it, the hot sensation in between your thighs, the vibrations of his moans against your most sensitive spot… 

‘You can let go’, he whispered while letting his finger slide in your entrance, ‘I know you want to; I can feel you clenching around my finger’. ‘Hm’, you pressed your eyelids together, feeling the heat rise to your stomach. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes away from your pretty face. You looked so cute with your cheeks red, a drop of sweat softly sliding down your temple, the shy moans escaping from your lips. Feitan loved every second of it. 

‘I know you can do it’, he whispered against your slit, ‘You’ve been such a good girl already’. 

His praises were all you needed to find your relief. Legs trying to press against each other, your whole body shaking, … It was something you’d never experienced before, but it only made you want more. You wanted Feitan. Even though it was sick to want someone like him, someone who enjoys torturing people. 

‘First time?’, he smirked before softly pushing you against the mattress. He was quick to crawl on top of you, afraid your high was over. ‘Hm’, you blushed, avoiding eye contact. ‘You okay?’, his voice sounded concerned, making you wonder if he really was Feitain. The Feitan you knew would never be concerned about someone. ‘Y-yes’, you smiled, softly placing your hands on the back of his neck, ‘Can I kiss you again?’. ‘Stupid question’, he murmured before letting his hand rest on your collarbone, ‘You can do whatever you want’. 

You’d spent some time letting your hands explore Feitan’s toned body while you melted under his soft lips. He tasted so sweet, as if he’d eaten a dozen strawberries.

‘You’re really pretty’, his voice crashed into your thoughts, bringing you back into reality. ‘I always thought so, especially when you cry’. You widened your eyes at him, trying to grasp what he’d just told you. It was sick that he liked it when you cried, but you never thought he would say something so intimately. ‘Sorry’, the dark-haired man chuckled above you, ‘I know it’s twisted to find you pretty when you’re sad’. ‘Y-you’re pretty too’, you pulled him closer, letting your body grind against his leg that he’d placed between yours. 

‘You want this?’, his breathing sounded heavy, impatient. ‘More than anything’, your hand found its way to his pants, motioning for him to take them off. 

That was all he needed to hear. Feitan didn’t have the patience to take them completely off, so he just pulled it a bit lower, his underwear along with it. 

‘Hmpf’, you jolted when you could feel his member against your entrance, his tip softly pushing against it. 

Feitan gently placed his hand underneath your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

‘Feitan’, your eyes sparkled when you could see a smile on his face. His eyes never looked so kind before. ‘Don’t want to hurt you, but you’re going to feel me stretching you out a bit. Tell me if it’s too much, okay?’. 

Your eyes slammed shut when you could feel him pressing into you, body tensing up. He was big, bigger than Chrollo, but it didn’t hurt as much. Feitan made sure you were ready for him. 

‘Fuck, you’re tight’, a low grunt escaped from his lips while he tried to see if you were doing okay, ‘You can take me, right? You can be a good girl for me, huh?’. He placed a swift kiss on the soft skin of your neck, trying his best to hold back. 

‘Y-you can move’, a whisper was all you could manage, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gave you once you got used to his size. 

After that, Feitan lost it. He was love drunk, no one ever made him feel like you. 

‘F-feitan’, you moaned out his name, nails digging into his shoulders, ‘F-faster please’. ‘Who feels better?’, his lips brushed against your earlobe, ‘You’re going to think of me when he takes you again? Wishing it was me who was inside you?’. ‘Hm’, a short answer was all you could pull off. There was no way you could form a whole sentence anymore. ‘Want me to claim you every time he’s gone? Want to make this our little secret?’. ‘Please, can’t live without this anymore’. 

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppier, while the knot inside your stomach started to come undone again. 

‘Going to fill you up, okay? Want to- fuck’, he grunted out, trying to catch his breath, ‘Want to be sure the boss fucks you with my come inside you. Want me to take you before he comes home? Maybe he’ll notice my come dripping out of you, you’d like that?’. 

His dirty words send you over the edge. Legs shaking underneath him, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible against your body. 

‘G-good girl’, he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, ‘Now be good one last time and make sure you take everything, okay?’, ‘Promise’, you kissed him while you could feel him painting your velvety walls white. 

Feitan quickly stood up, pulling his pants back up. 

‘W-wait’, your voice was shaking, quickly covering your naked body underneath the sheets, ‘Can you stay a bit longer, please’. ‘Wasn’t going anywhere’, he brushed through his hair. ‘Just wanted to get a towel to clean you up’. 

Feitan headed to the bathroom, bringing back a hot towel to wipe you clean. 

‘Boss won’t be back for a couple of days’, he sat next to you on your bed, voice sounding insecure, ‘Want me to-‘. 

Feitan paused. He could feel his heart melting when he looked at you. He didn’t want this, the warm feeling you gave him, but it felt like he couldn’t live without it anymore. He’d gone soft for you. 

‘You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to’, you turned your back towards him, crawling into a little ball. ‘I would hold you like this every night if I could, Y/N’. 

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. 

‘Don’t know how I’m going to control myself when he’s back, can’t stand to hear you scream like that anymore’. 

He knew it was wrong for him to be so honest, knowing you could take advantage of him. Because if you’d ask, he’d run away with you, not caring that he would live his entire life in hiding. If he had you, as long as he could smell your scent, it would be more than enough for him.

‘Can you hold me more often when he’s away’, you whispered, a lump formed in your throat when thinking about Chrollo. ‘I’ll be here every night when he’s gone, I promise Y/N’. 

[softshiin]

Hey !! :D

How are you ? I hope you’re feeling okay ! :)

I love your writing, so.. can i request smtg ?

Idk if you write for these characters, if you don’t write for them or don’t like this request you can just ignore it !!

Then, can i request Tokyo Revengers boys (Mitsuya, Rindou, Izana and Chifuyu maybe ?) reacting to their s/o being followed and they just protecting them because theyre a lil scared ? Idk if that makes sense !! (Im french btw so english isnt my first language)

Thanks in advance <33

TR BOYS WHEN THEIR S/O IS BEING FOLLOWED

summary: what would they do if their s/o is being followed

characters: mitsuya, rindou, izana, chifuyu

warnings: reader being followed by stranger

note: hello nonnie!! tysm for requesting~ and don’t worry for the characters, i write for every of them if i don’t specify it <33

; you were totally scared, and you could sense that someone was following you since you got out of your school

; at first you tried to ignore it, but then you saw a shadow of a middle aged man behind you

; panic was starting to get into your body and you could barely breath

MITSUYA

; “y/n?”

; your boyfriend’s voice reached softly your ears

; slowly you looked into his eyes, scared

; “babe is everything alright?”

; you could still feel a presence behind a corner, so you lowered your voice

; “tsu, listen, there’s this man who’s following me since i got out of school.. c-could we walk a-away from here?”

; mitsuya immediately hugged you, pulling you closer to him

; “stay here angel, i’ll take care of it”

; then he walked towards the man, who instantly looked away, as if he wasn’t following you

; “you gotta a problem with my s/o, man?” your boyfriend asked calmly

; “hm? n-no? besides, who are you? do they really have a boyfriend?” the man sounded so annoying yet creepy

; “yup, and their boyfriend is right here, ready to beat the shit out of you”
; we can all imagine what happened later

;then mitsuya safely escorted you to his house, just in case that creep wouldn’t follow the both of you and know your address

; probably spent the whole night with you in his arms, just because he could feel that you needed it

IZANA

; “y/n?”

; you heard izana’s beautiful voice approaching you

; you quickly turned your face to meet his eyes

; “why.. are you trembling? did something happen?” you could tell by his tone that he was starting to worry

; you could barely speak, the only thing sure was that that man was still there, and he was coming closer to the two of you

; “excuse me, young boy, do you perhaps know them?” he asked to your boyfriend, who was still trying to understand the situation

; izana never took his eyes off yours, “yes, they are my partner, is there a problem?” he slowly turned to finally face the man

; “tsk” he just said, before trying to casually walk away from the both of you “it seems I’ve mistaken you for another person”

; you couldn’t even look at the man, because you knew that he will be there to follow you for all the following days, as he was doing since two weeks now

; “wait a sec old man” your boyfriend put a hand on the creep, stopping him “i don’t know why.. but my s/o here is quite afraid of you. ‘care to explain’?”

; “boy careful on how you speak to me, you will regret it”

; izana just let out a giggle before landing a kick on the man’s face, making him pass out

; “now then, angel. lets go home! i’ll put outta your school a bunch of my men, just to make sure this dude doesn’t follow you anymore”

; with this said, he placed an arm around your waist and started walking the two of you home

; prob spent all of the next hours with you, playing video games or doing some fun stuff together

RINDOU

; tbh this brat didn’t even see you, since he was walking while scrolling on his phone

; as soon as you saw him, you started walking faster, hearing also the steps behind you accelerate

; “rin! hello babe, what are you doing here?” you suddenly raised your voice in his direction, making him jump on his feet

; “hi sweet cheeks, just got out of school?” he said, placing a quick kiss on your lips

; he immediately noticed that someone was hiding behind a tree not far from you, but still decided to ignore it, maybe it was just a coincidence

; “what are you up to?” you asked with a trembling voice, he raised his eyebrow trying to understand why

; “is.. everything alright y/n?”he whispered

; “no its fucking not. there’s a creep that has been following me since i got out of school.. now that i think about it, i-its not even the first time i see him, he’s always walking around here..”

; your boyfriend immediately embraced you, telling you not to worry

; his scent succeed to calm you down a bit, and when he made sure of this, he quickly took off his glasses

; “can i leave them in your hands for a bit? im afraid they will dirt with blood”

[…]

; then he took you to his home, and spent a whole evening cuddling with you in his arms, eventually letting you style his hair

CHIFUYU

; this boy will stand for you even against 100 and im not joking

; the problem now was that he wasn’t here with you, while some creep was following you

; and he wasn’t even answering to your calls or messages

; you were seriously tempted to call the police, until you heard a familiar voice

; “come here,,, kitty kitty, where are you? I’ve brought you food~”

; you heavily sighed

; “oh my god chifuyu not again” you said to yourself, completely forgetting the old man behind you

; you ran to your boyfriend as soon as you saw him, scolding him because he shouldn’t buy cat food every time he sees one of them

; he cutely pouted at you, faking his sadness “but look at how cute he is!”

; you two ended up staying on the street for all evening, with the cat, being a lovey-dovey couple

; that man probably died of cuteness and understanding that you already had a boyfriend, he never followed you again

; he probably started being afraid of cats ofter this

[jungkxook]

—the love bug. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 

⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 

You see Jungkook every night without fail.

When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.

Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.

You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.

This night isn’t any different.

You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.

You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.

“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”

The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.

“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”

Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”

Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”

“No thanks.”

“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”

Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”

The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”

“She said she’s not interested.”

The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”

Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.

“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”

“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”

You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.

“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.

“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”

Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”

“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”

You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.

As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.

“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”

“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”

The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”

Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”

“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”

“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”

He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.

“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”

Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.

“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.

As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.

You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.

Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.

You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.

You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.

You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.

You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.

“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”

Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”

Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”

Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”

“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”

The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.

“Well, anyone, for that matter.”

The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?

“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”

The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”

Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.

“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”

You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.

“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.

But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.

Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.

“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”

“It’s you!” You exclaim.

“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”

Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”

You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.

When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.

The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.

Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.

Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.

“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.

“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”

“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”

“You have? Who told you?”

This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”

A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.

“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”

Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”

“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”

“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.

“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”

Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.

Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”

Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”

“Hey, Y/N!”

Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.

“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”

“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”

“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”

Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.

That night you can hardly sleep.

You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.

It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.

A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.

“You again?” You ask humorously.

“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”

“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”

The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”

“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.

“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”

“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”

“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”

“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”

“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”

“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.

“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”

“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”

You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”

“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”

You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.

The days pass in a very typical blur.

Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.

It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.

“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”

Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”

Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.

“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”

“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”

“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”

As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.

“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”

Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”

And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.

Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.

If only he could be so brave without that mask.

On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.

Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.

“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”

As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.

“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”

You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”

He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”

“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”

When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”

“You think so?”

“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”

“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I can name a few. Like the police.”

“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.

“Go ahead.”

Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”

You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.

“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”

Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.

“Jungkook, I━”

But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”

“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.

You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━

“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”

You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”

“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”

Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”

The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.

“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”

“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”

The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.

“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”

You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.

Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.

In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.

On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.

You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.

You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.

“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.

His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”

“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”

His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”

“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”

You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?

It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.

Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.

You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.

“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”

“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”

You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.

“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”

“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”

The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.

“To add to the mystique?” he says.

“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”

“They would never be able to catch me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”

You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.

“What fame? People want to lock me up.”

“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”

“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”

“How does that make you feel?”

One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.

“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”

A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.

“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”

“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”

He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.

“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”

When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.

“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”

This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.

The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.

Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook.

The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.

The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.

Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”

“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”

He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.

“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”

His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.

He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.

“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”

The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.

“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.

He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I show you something?”

You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”

“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”

You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.

You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.

You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.

It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.

The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.

You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.

You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.

A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.

“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”

His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”

He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”

The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.

He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.

There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.

You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.

You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”

Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.

“What’s up?”

Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”

Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”

Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?

“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.

“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”

Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.

“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”

Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”

“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”

“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”

A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”

Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then you’re kissing him.

You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.

You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says weakly.

You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”

“No.”

“What?”

You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.

“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”

You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”

“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.

Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.

“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”

Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”

When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.

“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”

“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”

“It’s not that simple━”

“It sure seems like it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”

Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.

“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”

“But I can handle it,” You insist.

“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”

Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.

You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.

In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.

It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.

There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.

“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.

“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”

Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.

“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”

“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”

“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.

“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”

You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”

You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━

“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”

Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.

He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.

You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.

Red and blue.

Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.

Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god! Jungkook!”

Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.

“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”

His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”

“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”

A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”

Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.

Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.

When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.

“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”

Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”

He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.

There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.

You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.

Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.

Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”

You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.

“Come here,” he mumbles.

You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.

You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”

“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.

“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.

“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”

He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.

“Really?”

Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”

He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man is cool.”

“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”

A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.

“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”

“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”

The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.

“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”

You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”

“I’m listening.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”

He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”

You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.

Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.

“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”

The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.

“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”

God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.

Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.

He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”

His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.

“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”

Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.

“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.

He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”

Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”

He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.

“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”

For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.

“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”

You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.

“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.

He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.

Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.

Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.

“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.

“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”

And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.

“Like this?” You gasp.

He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”

“Tell me,” You breathe.

Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.

“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”

You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.

You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.

So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”

He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.

Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.

He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.

When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.

“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”

Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”

“I know that,” he chuckles.

“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”

Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.

Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[astaroth1357]

Brothers Accidentally Make the MC Cry

Hello, this is the obligatory italics blurb that I have to put under my titles or else things look weird and it bothers me. Don’t mind the blurb. The blurb is a friend. (Though I could start writing pieces of a little story up here just to see if anyone even reads them… Hm…. Ideas, ideas...)

Warning: Angsty

Lucifer 

If he were being honest, he’d say that a part of him had always feared this would happen...

Lucifer likes to tell himself that he’s invincible, but everyday stresses can get to him just like anybody else. And like other people, he may not always act his best when he’s dealing with a full plate…

The MC hadn’t meant to make his day harder when they told him that they accidentally broke a lamp. It was a genuine accident! But Lucifer was still dealing with the fallout from another one of Mammon’s failed schemes, Satan had cursed all of his ties again, and Beel had eaten every scrap of food in the House… for the second time that week...

In comparison to everything else, a broken lamp was quite minor, but for Lucifer it was just the last straw and, for just a moment, he lost control…

His palm slamming against his desk hard enough to snap its legs and send it crashing to the ground. He scarcely knew what kind of look he had on his face, but whatever it was, he had made his human jump back in shock...

Really, it was silly for them to assume that he had gotten that upset over a lamp, but he saw tears starting to gather in their eyes all the same as they stammered out a quiet apology… 

It felt like an ice spike to the heart. Damn his temper… He really ought to have been more careful with them after… well, everything he’d done before…

He was quick to go over to them, catching their face with his hand and giving them the most sincere apology he could muster while wiping away their tears… Overreactions aren’t becoming of him and he hated to cause them pain… 

He, of course, took care of the lamp himself as penance and on the surface that seemed to be it (but to anyone paying attention, he had softened up on the MC considerably for at least a week. They probably could have sworn in front of Diavolo and he’d let it slide, he felt that bad about it...)

“I’m sorry, MC, I shouldn't have reacted like that… You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise… Please, there’s no need to cry…”

Mammon

Oh? What's that? His heart is now in a million pieces now...? Well, that seems fair…

He and the MC were out on one of his gambling nights and he was actually on a killer winning streak for once! Jackpots around every corner, he was rolling in it!

The MC had tried to convince him to just throw in the towel early, take his winnings while he had them and bail, but he wasn’t hearing any of it.

In hindsight, their insistence must have really shown how much the MC cared about him and wanted him to keep his earnings... but in the heat of the moment all he saw was someone trying to spoil his one night of fun.

To be fair to Mammon, it’s rather rare for him to lose control of his anger like he did. But when they tried to pull him away from the roulette table, he genuinely snarled at them and told them to get lost...!

Fortunately, he regretted his actions immediately after he saw the hurt in their eyes…

If their goal had been to get him to step away from the table, they achieved it. But only because he got up to pull them into a hug while stammering out apologies… Watching them actually shed tears hurt worse than any rope Lucifer had ever tied around him...

He spent the rest of the night away from the casino and trying to cheer up his human like his life depended on it... Seeing them in pain just tore him up that much.

"Ah, come on MC… I'm sorry, honest…! Please don't look at me like that, I'll do whatever ya want okay...? Just no more cryin…"

Leviathan 

Now thinks he's the worst, literally the worst. Lower than lesser demon spit. Lower than Cerberus' shit. Lower than… well, you get the idea…

Levi can get very… intense when things involving his passions are brought up. This can be a fairly endearing quality… but it also means he gets disproportionately impassioned about seemingly minor things.

Levi ended up snapping at the MC when they let him over-sleep one day. This wasn’t unusual for them to do as Levi’s sleep schedule was notoriously shitty, but they shouldn't have done it that particular day…

An item he wanted on Akuzon was going to go live that morning and he had to be awake to participate in the bidding. He had mentioned it to the MC the day before, but he blew past it so quickly they didn’t actually remember…

He found out that he missed the bidding after he woke up and he was pissed. Genuinely enraged that they didn’t remember to wake him up to the point that he was shouting and baring his fangs! 

… Really it was not a good look and he should have known better.

The look of fear and the tears gathering in the MC’s eyes snapped him out of it like a hard slap to the face, and somehow, it stung even more than that would’ve... It wasn’t long before he was crying along with them, practically begging for forgiveness...

He made it up to them by having a private showing of their favorite movie using a projector in the Planetarium, cuddling with them under a blanket while still, occasionally, muttering apologies under his breath.

“M-MC…? MC don’t cry…!! Please don’t cry, I- I’m sorry!! I… MC… I’m so sorry…”

Satan

Like Lucifer, he always worried this would happen and he hated when it finally came to pass…

He’d spent all his life learning how to restrain his temper, but it’s not a perfect science. There are the occasional times where the heat of the moment gets the better of him and he does something he regrets…

The MC had walked in on him one morning while he was fuming about Beel leaving the fridge empty again. It hadn’t been the first time they’d seen him like this, but this time he was absolutely furious.

He had told Beel again and again and again to get his snacking under control or to, you know, get up early and get more food so the whole family wouldn’t spend the morning starving but noooo! Mr. I’m Hungry never thinks about anything but his own stomach and then leaves whoever’s on kitchen duty to pick up the slack like some dimwitted muscle-bound meathead and THEN-!!

When the MC tried to take his arm to calm him down, he jerked their hand away from him and roared right in their face. He may not be a lion, but the full sound of a pissed off demon could make humans have breakdowns all on its own…

Which was more or less what the MC began to do as he gripped their wrist, panicking while taking shallow, stuttered breaths…

Satan's anger left him swiftly and he let them go, only reaching out to touch them again when he tried to wipe the tears from their cheeks… He had to coo and beg for them to calm down, which was only so successful because he was fighting back tears himself… 

On a scale of 1-10 of the worse things his temper has ever done, he'd rank this a firm 200... He refused to touch them for about a week afterwards and it took a long time for him to trust himself again… He just didn't want to hurt them...

"MC?? MC…? M… Oh no… MC, I'm so sorry, I would never hurt you! I… I wouldn't dare… please believe me..."

Asmodeus 

Oh baby! Sweetheart! Love of his life!! No, please no… don't subject him to this…

MC and Asmo were out dancing and some witch came by to try and flatter him.

Now, Asmo is a flirt normally, but get a few drinks in him and well… Let's just say his love of attention overrides his better judgment far more often than it should and friends don't let friends go home with creepy witches.

When the MC told the witch to scram, Asmo was confused and, frankly, quite irritated. That lovely lady had been stroking his ego in all the right ways and his human just scared her off so rudely!

Under most situations, Asmo would have kept his cool better but the haze of Demonus made his tongue loose... which let the venom fly…

He couldn’t quite remember what he said. The words left his mouth so quickly that they slurred together on his clumsy tongue, but it must have been enough because the MC flinched away from him.

That hurt all on its own, but as he started to process the pain in their eyes… he had never sobered up so fast...

He had their cheeks cupped in his hands and were kissing away their tears within the instant. Though the loud music at the club should have drowned out his apologies, the MC could see it written all over his equally tearful face…

He pulled them into his arms and then out of the club shortly after, the fog of Demonus that plagued him just moments before had long left him and all he knew was that the MC needed to be brought home and cuddled… stat.

“M-MC…? I’m sorry was it something… did I…? I’m so sorry… Please don’t cry…!”

Beelzebub 

He really didn't mean to shout so loud… honest... 

Beel becomes a completely different person when he’s hungry. He’s not entirely to blame, as his hunger can get so intense, but he still can snap from time to time when he really doesn’t mean to…

It was right after one of his practices and Beel hadn’t gotten a chance to eat in a few hours by the time the MC came to grab him from RAD. That already had him in a bad mood, but practice hadn’t gone too well for him either… 

He honestly didn’t realize how sharply he snapped at the MC when they asked him how he was. The irritation and frustration of the day all hit him at once and he became much harsher towards them than he ever intended…

It must have been the shock of seeing ever-sweet Beel suddenly get so aggressive with them that startled them so. He saw a couple tears gathering in their eyes before they could hide them and his heart just sank…

The MC was picked up in a crushing bear hug before they even let out their first sniffle. Beel didn’t even have to say how sorry he was, they could feel it in every squeeze he gave them. All while he completely ignored the growling of his stomach...

Beel wouldn’t let them go until he was certain they’d forgiven him which, honestly, took a while. Mammon was the one to ask why he had carried them all the way back to the House like a baby but… well, he didn’t need to know, now did he?

“MC, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shouted… Are you alright...?”

Belphegor 

Stubborn boi is stubborn and trying really, really hard not to crack right now...

That's not going to last long.

Belphie can be a bit of a brat and since he's the baby of the family so he's used to getting his way. He and the MC don't argue a ton, but when they do, he always digs his heels in and refuses to budge an inch on anything.

So what started out as a simple disagreement on how often Belphie would flake out on his chores turned into a kick-the-door-down argument over how much his laziness left the MC to pick up the slack...

It ended as all their barn burning arguments do, with demon-form Belphie sitting cross-legged on his bed refusing to look at them and the MC angrily pacing about the room until he cools off…

And then he heard it.

First a sniffle… and then a hiccup. Another sniffle then muffled whine…

Oh no… not this… Why are they crying…? They don't normally cry…

To his credit (or perhaps discredit), he managed to hold out for about two minutes before he finally glanced back at them. Seeing the MC wiping their tears all alone on the floor crumbled his resolve real quick.

The MC found themselves enveloped by Belphie's arms before they even noticed he got up. Naturally, he was pouting and trying to make it seem like "not a big deal or anything" but they could tell by the nervous twitch of his tail that he was hurting too…

Needless to say. Belphie started remembering his chores a lot more after that.

"Humans are so fragile… I didn't mean to make you cry, you know? I'll get things done just… Don't cry… please…"

[selfcarecap]

Study Date [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

request/summary: if you’re taking requests please could you write a fem!reader and peter where the reader has a crush on him but doesn’t think he would date her cos she isn’t the smartest at their school and really struggles with classes but he like cheers her up and helps her and maybe on a study date they kiss or something 🥺🥺🥺 please and thank you and i love your writing xxx

warning: me not knowing how to write in past tense… but still writing this fic in past tense?

word count: 3.3k (idk if this was a blurb request but i just read your request when you sent it in a few days ago and just … wrote)

-this is a repost of an old fic-

Saying you were nervous would have been an understatement.

You hated that the teacher waited until the last five minutes of the lesson to give back your tests.

Now everyone around you was smiling at their tests, everywhere you looked you could see people getting good marks.

So maybe that meant you didn’t do as bad as you thought.

You felt okay during the test. You knew you’d never get an A in maths, and that was okay. But while you were trying to solve the problems, you felt like you actually knew what you were doing for once.

You had studied the whole weekend. Saturday morning you got up and studied.You had lunch. Studied again. Had dinner. Studied again. Went to sleep. And repeated the whole thing on Sunday.

And yet, when everyone was discussing their answers afterwards, you had no clue what they were talking about.

But seeing everyone’s faces light up as they got their tests back, red A’s and B’s in the top right corner, made you a little more positive. Maybe you weren’t as dumb as you thought and there had been multiple ways of getting to the right answer.

You looked around and didn’t see a single disappointed face.

You couldn’t be the only one with a bad grade then. Right?

Your teacher, Mr Baker, looked at his watch and dismissed the class.

“Uh, I haven’t gotten my test yet,” you spoke up.

Mr Baker made a face as if he just remembered you existed and went through his bag, getting another piece of paper out. Your test.

You got up, walking past all the other students who were leaving and you went up to his desk.

Your face fell when you saw the big red F in the corner.

You didn’t have to look at the rest of the paper, the red was uncomfortably intense, covering half of the page with corrections and loads of those irritating question marks next to your answers.

Everyone else had left the classroom, and you didn’t know if that made the situation better or worse.

“Another one of those,” Mr Baker commented. He was trying to be sympathetic but it came out as condescending, a what-am-I-supposed-to-do-with-you tone as if you were the problem child.

“I see you’ve been paying attention in class. But sometimes that’s not enough. You have to practise, do the homework I give you. Maybe even a little more. This was the easiest test of the year, and you were the only one who didn’t get at least a B.”

He was still smiling, expecting you to thank him for his tips. As if you weren’t doing all of those things already.

And surely telling you you were behind every single person in this class wasn’t something teachers were encouraged to do.

“Ask me questions when you need to. I’m here for you. If you’re too shy to do it in class, you have my E-Mail and I’m always here a few minutes after class. Just practise a little and I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it, hm?”

He handed you your test, ready to leave now.

“I-I thought I understood it.”

“It’s all just practice, I promise. Now I have to get to my next class so..”

You nodded and left the classroom.

It’s all just practice, sure. It’s not like you spent twenty four hours studying for this test alone. You couldn’t always do this. You had ten other subjects, half of which you were nearly failing too.

How did people manage this? Why did you fail a test that everyone else got A’s and B’s on?

You walked towards the doors, relieved that most other students had gone home already so no one would see you fighting back tears.

Just as you were about to fold your test in half, not wanting to see the blunt F staring back at you anymore, you bumped into someone, dropping your test.

You looked up and it was Peter. Shit. You were about to bend down to pick up the piece of paper, but Peter beat you to it with his quick reflexes.

He picked the paper up, and you could tell he didn’t mean to look. But the red ink across the whole page caught his eye and he looked at the test for a split second before handing it back to you.

Fuck.

You shared many classes with him, and if the few times you embarrassed yourself in front of the whole class, not knowing the answer to the questions the teachers asked you wasn’t enough, now he just had to know you also failed the easiest test of the year.

He probably thought you were stupid already, but he didn’t have to see all the dumb mistakes you made on a test that he probably easily got an A* on.

When you grabbed your test, a tear slipped out of your eye and you couldn’t look at Peter as you walked away.

“Hey, no wait!” He called out.

You reluctantly stopped. You could feel more tears about to spill from your eyes, and after the humiliation of your crush seeing your failed test, you didn’t need him to see you crying too.

“Can- Can I have a look at that?” He asked, pointing at your test.

“You’ve seen the F already. If you want to make fun of me—“

“No! Not at all. I just, when I picked it up I saw your first step, but it’s actually the second step. And nothing makes sense if you skip the first step.”

“There are different steps?” You asked.

“Yeah- it’s not too hard. But um listen, I need to go now, but maybe you can text me and I can help you figure out where your mistake was. Only if you want to, of course.”

“Yes, sure, thanks-“

“Okay, great, bye!”

Before you could ask him for his number, he was gone.

-

After the much needed cry you finally let out at home, you wondered how you could get Peter’s number. You could text one of your friends to text another friend, so they could text another friend who you surely knew had Peter’s number.

But that just felt like it was too much.

Did he even mean it? Or was he making fun of you in some intelligent humour you didn’t understand?

Okay, you knew Peter wasn’t like that.

But the thought of texting him made you nervous enough, and you didn’t want to bother three other people in order to get his number in the first place.

So instead, you cried a little more over your test, looked at your notes from previous lessons, and understood less and less with every thing you read.

Eventually you fell asleep thinking about Peter.

*

Peter kept glancing at you from across the classroom the next day.

You simply didn’t want to annoy him and other people, that’s why you hadn’t texted him. But maybe he thought you were rude for not accepting his help. When, truly, you just didn’t want your crush to realise how different your levels of intelligence were. But he probably knew that already.

If it was obvious to him how stupid you were, you didn’t want him to think you were rude too, so in the next break you went up to him.

He looked right into your eyes, and you felt like he could see that you’d been crying the whole night, even if you looked surprisingly refreshed this morning.

“Hi um, sorry that I didn’t text you. I don’t have your number,” you said.

“Oh- I thought we were in that math group chat together?”

Mentally, you slapped yourself. Of course you were in that group chat. You were in so many different school related group chats with him.

It just kept getting worse.

“Oh well, yeah we are. But actually I just couldn’t be bothered thinking about maths yesterday. Do you think you could explain it to me now?”

“Yeah I-”

In that moment the bell rang and you had to get back to class.

“How about we meet after school?” He said.

“Sure. The library?”

“Um maybe somewhere where we don’t have to be quiet?” He asked.

Maybe you just shouldn’t say anything in front of Peter. It’s not that you didn’t think. Just sometimes the speaking happened before the thinking. But Peter probably just thought you were dumb. You probably were.

“We could go to mine.” He proposed, “I live with my aunt and she’ll probably be at work. Either way, she’s cool.”

“Okay, cool. Should we meet by the entrance then and walk to yours?”

“Cool. I mean yes, let’s do that. See you later,” he smiled weirdly before he left.

You met Peter after school and got lunch together, talking the whole way to his place. You ate first, and continued talking even when you were done.

You didn’t feel dumb for a single second.

Maybe you weren’t as dumb as you thought.

Maybe your grades at school didn’t always determine your intelligence.

Maybe you were just being dumb again though, and Peter was just a nice person to be around who didn’t care that he was way more intelligent than you.

Unfortunately, your conversation ended when Peter remembered what you were here for.

You didn’t want him to see your failed test again. With all the red ink and all your embarrassing calculation methods.

But Peter remembered what he had seen on your test the previous day, and started talking without you having to show him again.

First, he tried to cheer you up though. Which you appreciated.

“That test was so weird, I'm sure loads of people got a bad grade this time.”

“Nope,” you said, “Everyone had A’s and B’s.”

“I’m sure at least a few others were worse than that.”

“No. Mr Baker assured me of that. He went out of his way to let me know that I was the only one who failed it. It’s not like I didn’t think I was dumb already,” you looked away.

“Hey- who said you were dumb? Mr Baker is dumb. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing half of the time and just looks at the answer and writes it down without explaining anything at all.”

Sure, you’ve said those things about Mr Baker too. But it was more to find a justification why you’d failed another test, trying to convince yourself that you weren’t stupid, and it was someone else’s fault. When really it was your own fault.

But if Peter said those things about Mr Baker, maybe you weren’t entirely to blame.

“So for example he doesn’t tell us that there are multiple steps you have to go through. And when I saw your test, I saw you skipped the first one. Which isn’t your fault because Mr Baker doesn’t tell is about these steps,” Peter said,

“But I immediately recognised that that’s what happened to you because I made that mistake too when we first learnt this.”

Peter Parker makes mistakes? In maths?

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Oops, did you say that out loud?

“Anyway, so there are two different ways, both depending on that first step where you prove if X is.....”

An hour later you were writing down all the different steps Peter taught you, working out the answer to the problems on your previous test which Peter wrote down for you on another piece of paper.

But you were stuck on the last step, and you were unsure if you’d even gotten the previous results right.

“Okay time is over, this is how much time we had during the test too.”

You dropped the pen with an unsure breath, looking at the test on your lap.

Peter sat down next to you- you were leaning against the headboard on his bed. His bed was small, and suddenly Peter was really close. You gulped.

“Okay um I‘m stuck on the last step. But I don‘t know if the rest was correct though.”

“Let me see,” his leg brushed against yours when he leaned over to grab your test.

You saw him pulling out his green pen to correct your answers, but you didn’t look at the paper. He was way too close, you couldn’t concentrate on anything but his face that was mere inches away from yours.

He turned his head towards you, and you felt like you’d just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do. Then you realised he was talking to you.

“W-what?”

“I always use my calculator for this last part. I don‘t actually think it‘s possible without a calculator.”

You looked down at your test, and there were green ticks next to every line. You tried to hide your smile, you didn’t want to get too hopeful because you got a few answers right.

“I don‘t think I brought my calculator.”

“Wait, you did all of this in your head?” Peter asked.

“Uhh.. yeah?”

“Woah.”

“That‘s not the part that‘s hard for me. It‘s more the logical thinking, I guess,” you explained.

He nodded, getting out his calculator. You typed in what you needed, and wrote down the answer, throwing Peter a fearful look.

He checked your answer, and gave you another tick at the end of it, adding a little :) at the end. You’d never gotten a :) on your maths answer.

Peter high fived you, but you were still confused.

“Wait, so that was it?”

“Yeah. You would have gotten an A-star on this one.”

This time you didn’t hide your smile.

Peter was still so close.

“You know the way you explained it with those steps? That was really helpful. No one‘s ever explained it to me like that. But now it makes sense.”

He just shrugged, grinning at you.

“Wait, there‘s also this really good Youtube channel. They have tons of videos that are really good. They also explain the exceptions when there‘s another step,” he said.

“What exceptions?”

“Oh, actually we haven‘t done those in school yet anyway, so you can just watch the videos once we actually do it in school. I‘ll send you the link though.”

You didn't want to sound weird, but Peter just did more for you than your teacher did in the last year, “So um do I pay you or is this just like…” You tried to find the right word.

“No- you don’t have to. We’re friends and it was just a small favour. I just saw your mistake right at the beginning and recognised it from when I used to do that, so I thought I could help.”

Woah.

Peter Parker considered you a friend.

You would have liked to disagree. You barely knew each other. But if you knew him well enough to have a crush on him, then he could know you well enough to consider you a friend.

There was a silence while you thought about that, and Peter started talking again.

“Actually, I was worried you’d think I was a dick. You didn’t ask for my help and I didn’t want to seem like a smartass or like I was mansplaining when I offered to explain it to you, so I was kind of worried when you didn’t text me yesterday.”

“No, not at all. I appreciate it a lot. I just forgot we were in that group chat and didn’t know how to get your number, but I’m glad we talked. Thanks for helping me.”

He simply nodded and gave you a smile.

You were still next to each other on the bed. Maybe it was just your imagination, but it felt like you were about to kiss.

Just as you saw Peter moving towards you even more, you heard the front door open, and a female voice greeting Peter.

He got off the bed quickly, “Uh that’s my aunt. She’s uh, home early.”

You followed him into the kitchen where you introduced yourself to his aunt. The good looks must run in his family, even though you weren’t sure if they were blood related.

“Peter has told me so much about you, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she smiled.

Before you could respond, Peter was talking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, May-”

“No, I’m sure I remember the name. Peter‘s been talking about you non-stop,” she grinned at you and you tried to stop your smile from taking up half of your face.

If you’d heard that yesterday, you would have worried what Peter said about you. Maybe he had told his aunt how dumb you were. But after three hours with Peter, you knew he’d never say something like that.

That night you stayed up until three a.m. watching the videos Peter sent you. You discovered they had multiple channels. Apart from maths, they also had physics, biology and chemistry videos- all the subjects you were bad at.

You never thought you’d enjoy studying, but watching those videos wasn’t half bad because finally you understood something, and you only stopped when you were too tired to pay attention.

*

Peter kept helping you with maths, and a few weeks later you wouldn’t disagree anymore if he said you two were friends.

You were at his place again, sat opposite of each other on his bed.

Just a week ago, you had another maths test. What you were writing had felt right, but in maths that didn’t mean anything.

The test was in front of you now, facing down, and you were too anxious to turn it around and look how you’d done. You didn’t want another F.

“What if I failed again?” You asked.

“Then we’ll just practise more, and you’ll pass next time,” Peter said.

He took your hand to calm you down, but it only made you more nervous.

“Last time he gave it to you personally, to talk to you. He didn’t do that this time, so that could be a good sign,” he tried.

“Maybe he’s just given up on me.”

“I don’t think so. Should I look at it for you?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

You took a deep breath, and before you could change your mind, you looked at your test.

Peter looked at you, “What did you get?”

And as loud as you could, you shouted, “I got a B!”

Peter’s whole face lit up along with yours, and you promptly kissed him.

You hugged him immediately after, shocked at your own action, and your eyes went wide behind Peter’s back.

You could feel his hands at your waist, but they were unsure and shaky.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I couldn't have done this without you,” you said, deciding to ignore what you just did.

You pulled away from the hug, looking at your test instead of looking at Peter.

But he was all fidgety, playing with his shirt, scratching his neck and the back of his head, and when you looked up at him his face was red. You felt bad.

“Um sorry, I shouldn’t have just kissed you- I was just um really happy.”

“No, no, that was okay,” he smiled.

“Okay?”

“No, like very okay. I mean uh- good. Nice”

You smiled.

You had just reduced Peter Parker, the guy who knew the answer to everything, the guy who was the smartest person at your school, to a stuttering mess.

“Okay,” you smirked.

“I-it was so very okay, that I would like to repeat it- if you wanted to, that is.”

You took a second to process his words, and then you kissed him again.

It was just a short, sweet peck, but it gave you a whole swarm of butterflies.

“How- how about maybe we could go on an actual date instead of just a study date tomorrow?” He asked.

“I‘d love that.”

And you kissed him again.

[sevmch]

hq boys when you pepper them with kisses bc you're sad

characters: kenma, akaashi, kuroo

warning/s: none

genre: fluff, comfort

a/n: here's some fluff bc i think ive been writing too much angst lately aksjdkhskshs

kozume kenma

you were sitting next to kenma, staring at your boyfriend's face that had his game face plastered on his features in full concentration. you watched in silence as he played, cheek leaning against your palm.

this wasn't new, in fact, most of your time spent at his place were usually just you doing your own stuff while he played. you didn't really mind, wanting to just be around kenma and feel his presence.

he also loved having you near him, you knew that. but sometimes, especially when you're feeling down, it felt as if he didn't care a bit like right now. kenma cared a lot but he's no mind reader, so he doesn't exactly know you're upset because you failed one of your exams today.

but you really wanted to be close to him as some sort of comfort, so you moved away from the desk and lean towards kenma, resting your chin on his shoulders and catching him give you a side-eye.

"what're you doing?" he asked, focused on the screen again, fingers moving swiftly against the keyboards.

you shrugged, sighing deeply. "nothing."

"okay."

pouting at his lack of response, you placed a quick peck on his cheek. his brows jumped, the crease in his forehead disappearing for the first time tonight. you planted another one and another one and another one, soft and brief and lazy. kenma moved his face towards you when you stopped for a second due to the discomfort creeping up your neck from the position, your boyfriend whining at the sudden loss of contact.

now it's your brows that raised, not really expecting for him to ask more. he leaned closer, tilting his head a little sideways as a sign for you to keep going.

"why'd you stop?"

"my neck was starting to hurt, i thought i was bothering you though." you shifted in your seat to find a much comfortable position.

he frowned, glancing at you and quickly reaching for the neck pillow that sat on the far end of his desk.

"i love it when you do that," he said softly, pausing the game so he could put the pillow around your neck and cup your face gently. "you're never a bother to me."

"kenma," your lips trembled slightly when tears started gathering at your eyes, touched by his affection.

"i know you're not okay. i could tell since you got here. do you wanna get ice cream after and talk about it?"

you nodded, not saying a word because you were sure your voice would crack if you did and kenma knew that, ruffling your hair before turning back to his game.

"ice cream it is then," he said, pressing play. "i'll buy you two if you continue with the kisses."

giggling, you plant more soft kisses on his cheek, even massaging the back of his neck as you watched him play. later that night, he took you to your favorite ice cream parlor, listening attentively to everything you had to say.

akaashi keiji

you and akaashi haven't seen each other the past week due to both of your conflicting and hectic schedules. their practices were extended to later hours for the upcoming interhigh while you were busy with club activities. whenever you had free time, akaashi would be unavailable and vise versa.

you missed each other so much it hurts which was why the second you both had matching free time, it was spent on cuddling for hours on end. even when you were lying on top of akaashi, face hiding at the crook of his neck and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, you still craved for more.

thinking of having to separate and not see each other again for days made your heart sink into your stomach, nuzzling against his neck as if you could get even closer than you were already.

he ran his hand up and down your back in comfort, even giving a gentle squeeze on your arm to remind you he was physically there with you. you sighed deeply, landing feather-like kisses at his jaw.

"missed you."

"i know," akaashi said barely above a whisper, relaxing into the feeling of your soft lips on his skin. "i missed you too, love."

as you kept going with your ministrations, your eyes were wide in surprise when akaashi stopped you, leaning away just to turn to his side and face you. placing a hand at the back of your neck, you felt his lips on your forehead. then, you felt them next on the space between your brows, then at the tip of your nose, then at your chin.

stopping by your lips, he hovered, staring at you lovingly through half lidded eyes. blood rushed to your cheeks, heating up at the way he was gazing at you. slowly, akaashi captured your lips in his, pulling you forward by his hand on your nape as he moved his lips passionately you're glad you were laying down otherwise your knees would've gave out. it was sweet and short, slipping pecks in between before moving back a little.

"don't be so sad anymore, hm? i'm here now." he said, caressing your cheek with his thumb. the corner of your lips tug upward in a smile, releasing a contented sigh as you stared at each other for a little while.

kuroo tetsuro

he was in a middle of a phone call with yaku discussing about their chemistry homework and spitting out chemical names that were alien to you. it has been going of nearly an hour and a half and you were starting to get impatient, wanting to get back to the movie currenly paused at the screen before yaku called.

saturday nights were movie nights and it was an agreement that either of you must be free from distractions - no phone notifications, mentions of school works, and the like. unless it was an emergency. yaku calling wasn't an emergency, in fact, it was just to argue with kuroo that his answers were right and your boyfriend's were wrong.

and you wouldn't mind it if it were any other day but not today. not after movie nights have been pushed back twice in a row because kuroo has been too exhausted from training to even stay awake at 9 pm.

scooting closer to him on the couch, you locked him in place by putting your arms around his neck and resting your legs on his lap. used to your clinginess, he doesn't react - kept his mind on throwing insults at yaku.

so you proceed with your plan in mind. you weren't exactly placing kisses, just letting your lips graze the corner of his mouth to tease, knowing that it riled him up when you don't kiss him completely.

his free hand came to give your thigh a warning squeeze, a light chuckle leaving you as you kept teasing him, lips hovering at the side of his face. when you felt considerate, you'd kiss him lightly.

you're not really sure how long it went on but probably enough time for kuroo to give up.

"okay bro whatever, let's check it again on monday with kai and see who's really right. i'm busy, bye." with a tap on end call, he tossed the phone on the empty spot beside him before tackling you on the couch, making you shriek as your back met the cushion.

"my babygirl's such a tease," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers up and down your spine. before you could even utter a single word, kuroo's smashing his lips against yours, moving fast that it got you mind short-circuiting.

when you finally caught up with his pace and started getting into it, he pulled away. you whined, grabbing his collar to pull him down but doesn't budge, a smirk on his face.

"it's not so fun getting teased, is it?" he winked, clearly amused at your annoyed expression.

you rolled your eyes, groaning as you smack his bicep. "seriously kuroo?"

"what, you started it kitten. it's only fair if you get a little taste of it." he laughed when you scowled further, shaking his head lightly and giving you a sweet, gentle kiss. "sorry i interrupted our movie night."

"'s okay," you mumbled in between the kiss.

"we can make out for the rest of it, you know, a way for me to make it up to you," he said, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.

you scoffed, but really, the idea sounded perfect.

"just admit you enjoy kissing me."

"mmm sure, whatever," kuroo mumbled as he dipped his head, capturing your lips again. maybe movie night being interrupted wasn't so bad afterall.

rb and feedbacks r sexy ty<33

2021 (c) sevmch | strictly do not copy or repost.

[malleux]

spell [2]. | corpse husband

part one ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

-> Warnings: Hate Comments, Self Doubt, Anxiety, Cursing

-> A/N: thank you for 1k notes on part one! i’m so glad everyone likes my work. it’s really nice getting this much love after taking a hiatus on my fire emblem writing blog. i hope y’all enjoy it and stay on the lookout for part three!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you joined Sean’s Among Us stream.

While that was your first public appearance, you had joined three others after that and already you were blowing up on almost every social media platform you had. The attention was kind of nice, you had to admit, but sometimes the anxiety of becoming a public figure weighed heavily on your shoulders.

During that time, you turned to your friends who were used to such scrutiny: Sean, Felix, and now Corpse, who you’ve been talking to every day for those two weeks.

It was another one of those nights where, at 1am, you were on Facetime with said man. His screen was dark, as usual. He hadn’t shown his face yet and you respected that. You didn’t need to see him to talk to him, or be his friend, or develop a slight crush on him. All of which you did.

The call was relatively silent on your end. Corpse was on Facetime with you, yes, but he was also on a call in Discord, once again playing Among Us.

You often wondered if playing that game was all your new friends did anymore.

You stayed quiet, letting Corpse play the game and avoiding his fans finding out about your call. You had college work to finish anyways, so the silence was rather helpful.

“We should ask Y/N if she wants to play. I wanna meet her.” Sykkuno’s voice rang out from the Discord call. He was right- you’d never met him. He and Corpse seemed extremely close, though, so you’d love to talk to him. A friend of your crush friend was a friend of yours.

“She’s busy tonight.” Corpse responded.

“Yeah, she’s got an exam coming up- wait, how do you know?” Sean joined in, questioning Corpse.

“Uh, I mean we’re on Facetime right now, I guess.” Your heart sped up- now his fans knew. “She’s studying. We’re just hanging out.”

“Didn’t you guys ‘hang out’ last night as well? It seems like you’re trying to take my best friend away from me.” Sean joked back.

“I mean, I definitely am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was that supposed to mean? Sean was obviously kidding, but the tone in Corpse’s voice wasn’t the one he used when he was joking as well.

Felix suddenly butted in. “Ooooh, I think Corpse-y has a little crush.”

“And if I do?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

꧁꧂

Three weeks, now, that you’ve been talking to Corpse daily.

One week since Corpse’s crush comment and one week that you’ve endured countless mentions and tags on Instagram and Twitter, constantly talking about #CorpseY/N.

You didn’t really mind the shipping, often losing yourself in daydreams about driving those two hours down from your apartment in Los Angeles down to San Diego and running into his arms. It didn’t help when he mentioned wanting you to come visit one day.

You just worried about how Corpse felt about them. He was still relatively new to blowing up on the internet as well, his fame suddenly skyrocketing in the past few months, so you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with them. You didn’t want to bring it up, either, fearing that the discussion would make things awkward between the two of you.

For now, you were rather content with just scrolling through the #CorpseY/N hashtag, looking at the pictures and nice things people had to say about you both.

“they’re so cute when they talk to each other, you can just tell Corpse meant it when he said he was trying to steal Y/N away.”

“#CorpseY/N is my new favorite thing. Everyone shut up this is all I’ll be talking about from now on.”

“God why can’t they just be together already? #CorpseY/N”

Everyone was so supportive and sweet, it almost made you feel like you already were Corpse’s girlfriend. Although your heart hurt when you were brought back to reality, you couldn’t help but love the comments that everyone left. They were amazing.

Until they weren’t.

There are always two sides of the same coin. Along from the supporters and their loving actions, there were also those who seethed at the idea of you and Corpse.

They scrutinized everything about you to the point that you made your Instagram account- already with 30k followers- private.

Haters talked about you. Your body, your personality, how you weren’t worthy to even talk to Corpse and the rest of the Youtubers, and so much more. You’ve spent many nights with your Facetime mic muted so that Corpse couldn’t hear the small sobs coming from you.

These thoughts were almost always on the back of your mind, but you were sometimes able to push them away.

Like now- as you focused on your exam. Well, tried to focus. There comes to be a time where one can only hear so many negative things about themselves before they can’t ignore it anymore.

But alas, you tried your hardest and finished your exam, before walking out of the room and pulling out your phone. Now, you had a break before your new classes started and you’ve never been more relieved. You pulled up a certain contact and clicked on the message icon, beginning to type.

you:

i’m finished! up next, a break.

corpse:

I hope you did well. How long is your break?

you:

two weeks!

corpse:

Come spend it in San Diego

You stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the offer. You really didn’t think that he’d invite you over, but you weren’t about to complain. Instead, you sent back an ‘I’ll pack tonight :)’ and rushed home to do just that.

Corpse called you as you packed, just like he calls every night. You were used to the routine now, often falling asleep around 3am as he stays on the phone, doing whatever he does with his ruined sleep schedule until you wake up and say good morning.

Tonight, however, you were too jittery to sleep. You stayed up all night with Corpse, talking about anything and everything, like usual.

What wasn’t usual, though, was how distracted he sounded. It made you nervous- was he having second thoughts about inviting you over? Was something wrong?

Your thoughts nearly overwhelmed you, forcing you to say something.

“Are you okay, Corpse?” You tried to hide the small shake in your voice.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Why?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

His side of the phone was silent for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what I’ve got to do before you get here tomorrow. Like, cleaning and stuff.”

“Pshh, that doesn’t matter to me.” You waved your hand, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of your room.

“It’s just that, my apartment isn’t… the best. It’s small and there’s only one bedroom and it’s kind of shitty. I just don’t want it to be even more shitty.”

“Corpse, I’m coming there to spend time with you, not your apartment. I don’t care what any of that shit looks like. I’m going to be looking at you and hanging out with you. Not your apartment.” You didn’t mean to go on a tangent of reassurance, but you truly meant all of your words. “Hell, I might not even see the apartment because I already know I won’t be able to look away from you.”

“I- God, give me a minute. That took me off guard.” He laughed. “But thank you. I may not even be able to clean because I’ll be distracted too.”

“By what?”

“You, standing in front of me, in person.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s a fucking dream come true.”

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taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions

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[tommyhardyx]

Inadequate

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader Word Count: 1.8K Request: Anon: Hi I love you writing and I was wondering if I could get a Tommy imagine where the reader is his wife in season one? And Tommy being tommy keeps everything a secret from her and the only way she finds out is through Ada and Poll. Once discovering that Tommy has been lying to her she makes a call like Lizzie in season 5 about possibly divorcing him. She doesn’t want Tommy to know she called but someone snitches. Tommy confronting the reader and telling her that a divorce will never happen. Just lots of angst but fluff at the end??? Sorry this is such a long request!! Warnings: angst, swearing Note: I'm sorry it's taken me a bit to get this one done but I really hope you enjoy it!

When Esme came into the family you thought it would mean you would have someone to keep you company, someone who you could spend your days with rather than being alone like you are now.

But no, of course not. Immediately Tommy put her to work in the betting shop, giving her a job he doesn’t even trust his own wife with.

Another day spent at home, spending your hours watching Finn whenever he’s not out running through the streets of Small Heath or whatever it is he gets up to, having tea with Polly and waiting for Tommy to come home at night.

It wasn’t always like this, in the beginning you and Tommy were happy, he would talk about his ambition to build a legitimate company to pull all of you out of this place and give you and any children you have in the future a better life.

But these days it doesn’t feel like that, and while you know your husband has never been an open book you find it harder and harder to read him each day as if he doesn’t want you to understand him like you once did.

After getting Finn to bed you slip into your own, though you know you won’t be able to sleep until your husband joins you on his side of the mattress.

Eventually you hear the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs, and you watch as he steps into the room and strips off his clothes.

“How was your day?” you ask as Tommy slips into bed beside you, your hand moving to slip into yours as you shift closer to him.

“Fine,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Yours?”

“Alright,” you say softly, watching his features as he closes his eyes, still so on edge even here with you. You swear you used to relax him. “What… do you want to talk about your day?”

He sighs, turning his face to look at you, those blue eyes watching you so carefully.

“There’s nothing to talk about, let’s just get some sleep hm?”

You hear the finality in his voice and know not to press him on the issue.

Biting your lip you nod and pull your hand away from his.

“Okay, goodnight Tom.”

The following morning Tommy is already gone when you wake up, though when you make your way down to the kitchen you find Polly there still sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea.

“Morning Pol,” you mutter, moving across the kitchen to find a clean teacup and join her at the table.

“Good morning,” she mutters, her irritation clear.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, hoping that for once someone will share what’s going on with you and not dismiss you.

“That bloody husband of yours. Trying to take on fucking Billy Kimber. I’m surprised you’re not worried about it,” she says and your brow draws into a frown.

“Billy Kimber? Tommy has business with him?”

Polly looks at you in surprise, and you find yourself shrinking into your chair under her gaze.

“He hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

Polly’s expression is hard to decipher, and the thought crosses your mind that she’s thinking the same things you think about yourself, that you’re not a real member of this family.

“I’ll talk to him,” she decides, leaving you at the table alone as she lets herself into the betting shop.

The Garrison is busy that evening as you step inside, people everywhere with pints in their hands as they talk loudly in small groups.

Someone almost spills a drink on you, his face screwed up in a scowl as he begins to tell you to watch where you’re going but quickly his face falls when he recognises you.

“I’m sorry Mrs Shelby, no harm done right?”

The effect your husband has on the people around you doesn’t hit you until the moments like this and you just nod and set out of his way.

“It’s alright,” you assure him and continue on your way through the pub.

The news that Tommy Shelby’s wife is in the building and you try to ignore the stares as you make your way to the bar in search of your husband.

You find him leaning against the counter, a smile you haven’t seen in months plastered on his face as he speaks with the barmaid, Grace you’re sure her name is.

Tommy looks up as you approach, surprised by your appearance there and by the horrified look on your face.

Before he can speak, or reach out to grab your arm you’re already heading for the door. Humiliation burns your cheeks as people turn to watch you leave with your husband staring after you.

You’re halfway down the street when you turn, and your heart sinks further when you realise Tommy hasn’t followed you.

He doesn’t care. He’d rather take that blonde barmaid to bed than come after me.

At the house, you go straight for the phone, hands shaking as you make a phone call you never thought you’d have to make. The call to end your marriage.

When you wake later in the night Tommy still hasn’t come to bed.

That’s when the feeling that your marriage is actually over begins to settle in, the realisation that even after watching you run out of The Garrison completely humiliated he doesn’t care enough to come home to you.

You don’t try to stop when the tears slip down your cheeks, the knowledge that the man who promised to love you for the rest of your lives no longer wants anything to do with you opening a pit in your stomach.

The tears keep falling and you don’t try to stop them, giving yourself permission to cry, not worried about Tommy hearing because he’s not coming home.

You’re not sure how long has passed but eventually the tears are gone, your throat is sore and scratchy and you decide to go downstairs in search of water.

Downstairs the house is dark, dim light coming in through the windows illuminating the figure sitting at the kitchen table.

“Tommy?” you ask into the dark.

He turns towards you, blowing smoke into the air between you.

“I heard you’re planning on leaving me,” he says, the accusation clear in his voice.

You tuck your robe around you tighter, crossing your arms over your chest, and refuse to look weak as he stares you down.

“Is that why you’re home so late? Been out celebrating getting rid of your boring wife?”

His face is hard to make out in the dim light, so when he speaks you’re surprised by the genuine confusion in his tone.

“Why would I be celebrating?”

“Because you don’t love me anymore.”

Neither of you speak in the immediate wake of those words, the words that have been building up for months now with every dismissal and every late night and every lie he’s been keeping from you.

When he doesn’t speak you swallow, stepping away from where he sits at the table.

“You don’t tell me anything about work or about you. Even Polly was surprised when she mentioned Kimber and I had no idea what she was talking about. You’re never here, you won’t let me work or just help you with anything. I sit here at home and I raise your little brother and what I get in return is finding you flirting with the fucking barmaid!”

Rarely do you ever raise your voice, especially not at Tommy, and as the anger in your words begins to fade you find yourself worried about his reaction.

He stands slowly, his steps measured and sure as he crosses the room to you. His hands find your waist and he pulls you in close to his body. And you know you shouldn’t but you allow it, because no matter how angry and inadequate you feel you still crave the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms.

“Of course I love you.”

You want to melt into him at the sound of those words, let him kiss you and tell you everything is alright but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s a ‘but’ coming.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant,” he mutters as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel so unloved. I just want to keep you safe.”

You sigh, resting a hand against his cheek.

“What about what I want Tom? I want to work in the betting shop, I want to be included and feel like I’m a part of this family for once,” you tell him.

This close to him you can see the sadness on his face as he leans in to press his lips to your cheek.

“Okay. You can do all of those things sweetheart. All of it. I’ll get Pol to go through things in the betting shop with you,” he says, his lips against yours. “We’re having a family meeting in the morning, I want you there.”

You nod, rubbing your nose along his.

“That’s all I want, to be a part of this family. To help you,” you mutter, kissing him softly.

He nods, his hands gripping your robe a little tighter.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” he whispers against your lips.

You nod, pulling back slightly to look properly at his face.

“Have you been fucking her? Grace.”

You’re not sure you want to know the answer but you have to ask the question, you have to know the answer so it’s not always in the back of your mind.

“What? Of course I haven’t,” he says, his fingers finding your chin and tilting it up to look him in the eye when you look down. “You are my wife. There’s no one else for me.”

Nodding, you rest your head on his shoulder allowing him to hold you against him properly as you slip your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shirt.

“I love you y/n,” he says against your hair.

Fresh tears slip down your cheeks as you cling to him, secure for the first time in months that your husband loves you the way you love him.

“I never meant for you to feel like this, I’m sorry.”

You nod against him, gripping onto him tight, not ever wanting to let him go.

“I love you too Tommy.”

The following morning you sit at the long table in the betting shop, Polly on one side of you and John on the other.

Tommy stands at the head of the table, and you can’t help the thrill you feel as he begins the family meeting. Finally allowed to sit in and listen to the business of the day.

Beside you Polly squeezes your hand, smiling at you when you turn to look at her. John nudges you on your other side, a brotherly grin on his lips as he puts an arm around the back of your chair.

“Finally decided to let her into the meetings, aye Tommy?” he asks, his fingers squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Yes, well she is a member of this family. It shouldn’t have taken me so long.”

@retromafia @lauren-raines-x @lizyshores @misselsbells06