#but i’m definitely just going to meet everyone there at the subway instead of watching the group struggle to use a fucking subway 😭😭😭

[bibleofficial]

at breakfast this morning i was talking to the guide abt speed running the vatican & she got a bowl of ‘blueberries’ but they were fucking OLIVES

[bonny-kookoo]

Mean (JJK x Reader) 💜☁️✴️🔞

💸 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

💸 Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut

💸 Warnings: bad language aka cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of illegal business, manhandling and not the nice kind, tsundere Jungkook, it’s not like he likes you duh, guns, description of violence, restriction of movement and not in a kinky way, protected sex because dude he’s got one kid okay that’s enough, unconventional romance, choking, near death experience, angst did I mention angst

💸 Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize to anyone I might dissapoint with this. I've changed up the story concept numerous times- and the first trailer is in no way a proper teaser anymore, since it has nothing to do with this story anymore. I somehow hope you still enjoy the story however. If not- I hope you'll stick around for future content!

Taglist: @drumsofheaven @yzkyzkuniverse @strwberrybtch @kirbykook @teresaisla @park-hera-gi @justzeera @taestannie @bambuzlee (there were several people I couldn’t tag- I’m sorry about that!) 

Jeon Jungkook was facing his worst enemy.

Now, considering his work and all those rumors going on about him, this could be anything really; from an entire army storming his house, to readying himself for waterboarding. But no, this enemy he was currently standing across from was way more vile and difficult to get under control. The situation was slowly growing desperate on his side- this was a life and death situation.

"Mina, come on now." Jungkook pleaded as the toddler vehemently refused to raise her arms properly so he could slip on her dress for the day. He could understand her, to an extend- he wasn't a morning person either, but he had to overcome this in order to be successful- and she had to as well.

Well, success was not really that important at her age, but getting her to daycare definitely was.

"Mina I have a meeting soon and if you continue to be a brat I can't send you off again properly." He tried, knowing how much she hated him leaving in a rush like usually. He'd promised her the day prior as he'd tucked her into bed that he would, this time, at least stay until her friends had arrived, yet he couldn't have known that this situation would occur the next morning.

Sometimes being a single father was way worse than anything he was facing at his actual job.

"There we go!" He cheered as she finally caved in, pouting a bit before she giggled at the silly face her father was making in order to get her to smile. He hated sending her off in a foul mood, knowing that she could be an absolute devil's child if she felt like it. In a way, she was very similar to him, which was to be expected with her mother not being in the picture. He didn't mind it much, however- a cheating spouse was not really what he wanted by his side, if he was being entirely honest with himself. It was enough already knowing that almost all of his 'friends' and 'business partners' were shameless liars. He didn't need to live and raise a child with one as well.

"Tiger!" The young girl cheerfully exclaimed, as the both made their way into the kitchen. It wasn't just a random comment from her side, because her chubby hand already pointed at the cereal box designed with colorful images on the counter, way too high for her but perfectly reachable for her father as he chuckled, balancing her on his hip as he prepared a small bowl for her.

"No funny business though, young lady." He said, as he sat down with her at the table. "We don't have to hurry, but we can't waste time either." He explained, as he watched her eat her breakfast with a concentrated face. He smiled at the picture, sometimes wishing this would be how his days would always start. Sadly, that wasn't the case- most of the times really, her nanny took her to daycare.

Which was another problem.

Her nanny had recently filed in for her termination, her age getting to her as she finally made the decision to settle down for her last years of life, she'd said. He accepted it without much resistance, having build too much respect for the elderly woman over the course of time by now. It left him with a gaping hole however, one that he knew he needed to fill.

But with who?

He couldn't just hire anybody for Mina at this point in his life. People needed to be fully trustworthy to be even given knowledge of his child at all. Most didn't even know she existed- the public unaware of her relation to him. He kept the facade up that she was merely the child of a close friend, just to keep her out of range of any potential enemies he had gathered over time.

His life really wasn't fit for a child at all, but what was he supposed to do?

"Y/N!" A small voice exclaimed behind you, making you look around from where you were cutting apples as the small child appeared.

"Mina!" You answered just as brightly, picking her up as she giggled excitedly. "Did you have breakfast yet?" You asked, as another daycare worker came inside.

"Yeah!" She said, and you looked at her surprised. "Daddy and I had breakfast!" She explained, as you placed her back down onto the ground. "He'ven brought me here today!" She said, and you hummed affirmatively,

"That sounds awesome!" You said, as she beamed up at you. "Why don't you go sit at the table, we're almost having our morning snack. You think you can eat some apples?" You asked, and she proudly nodded, before zooming off, stumbling a bit as she missed the slight gap of the door.

"He didn't come inside." Jenny said, as she watched the little girl sit down next to a boy her age. "I saw that he was sitting in his car, but she got out herself." She explained further, as you continued cutting the apples and making some cuts to have them resemble a bunny. "I swear to god-" She started, as you cut her off.

"We don't know what his life is like, Jenny." You said, as she huffed. "It's not our kid, it's not our life. She isn't unhappy, she's healthy, she's not mistreated. Case closed." You explained further as you discarded the scraps of apple unneeded in the trash, before rinsing the knife you'd used. "I'm not too happy about it either, but we're not her mother." You said, as you dried your hands.

Jenny sighed. "I know, but like-" She said, walking over to you to help you place the banana slices and grapes as well. "She's such a sweet kid. I don't know, but he seems like such a dick honestly. Like, have you heard his phonecall last week?" You snorted. Everyone did at this point.

Mina had had a minor incident, when she'd stumbled and fell. She'd scraped her knee, cried a little, but after a moment everything had been fine again. He however, had been livid upon finding out his daughter had been hurt, even though the scratches didn't even need a bandaid. Even though he'd only been on the phone with your superior, he'd made such a scene out of it that it became like local news around the daycare.

"I still don't know what the fuck that was about." Jenny exclaimed, taking a sip of her coffee as she kept an eye on the kids in the main room. "Like, yeah, she fell, but nothing happened." She said, and you agreed.

Shrugging, you grabbed some plates and napkins, and looked at Jenny. "Again." You reminded her. "As harsh as it sounds, you know me." Jenny sighed.

"I know."

You took back everything you had said this morning.

This prick had the audacity to keep you waiting for more than two hours now, without reacting to any amount of phonecalls you'd done by now. Mina was almost asleep on your lap, and you were angry to say the least. This was supposed to be your last day of work for a week, you were supposed to be curled up on your couch in nothing but underwear and fluffy socks, hidden by a blanket and eating icecream while watching netflix. You were definitely not supposed to sit here at your daycare until even the janitor was about to go home. "Fuck it." You mumble, carefully balancing the young girl on your hip as you grab your bag and keys.

You wave the janitor and cleaning staff goodbye on their way out, and take out your phone for a bus or subway that could drive close to where Mina's address is- but you notice there is nothing in her jacket written that you could use as one. You instead simply call the number written down for emergencies, and wait as it rings.

once.

twice.

"Hello?"

You are a bit taken aback by the voice on the other line, masculine, but clearly not as old as you'd thought he'd sound. "Uh, yeah, this is Mina's daycare, you mind picking her up these days, or not?" You casually say, Mina moving around a bit as to bring her thumb close to her lips. You internally coo at her.

"Shit! Fuck- I, where are you?" He asks, and you furrow your brows. Where the hell does he think you are, or does he seriously not know where his daughters daycare is? Wait, is that even her father?

"I- listen, am I even talking to her father or who is this?" You ask, and suddenly you feel extremely uncomfortable. This was a bad idea, what if this isnt her dad at all? You could loose your job for this!

"Yeah, yes. Listen I'm gonna send someone to pick her up alright? Should be there in an hour or so." He says as if frustrated, and you scoff, making him question you on the other line as if he was just struck by thunder. "Excuse me?" He says, voice low, but you're not intimitated.

"First of all, I'm not convinced. Second of all, and pardon my french, but are you nuts?! It's already way too late for her to be up, and I've finished my shift hours ago!" You complain, and he clears his throat over the line, clearly unhappy about your lack of understanding.

"Jeon Mina has a small beauty mark underneath her lower lip, she hates strawberries for some reason, and her biggest secret is that she is actually scared of unicorns. There, happy?" He grits out, and you chew on your lip. He was good. "Second of all, Miss." He makes sure to pronounce every word. "You're getting paid to look after my kid. If that's all you want I'm paying you extra for the inconvenience-" Oh boy, there we go.

"If I cared about your stupid money I would've called authorities hours ago, S.I.R." You start, careful to tone your voice down as to not wake her up. "And you know what, thats a great Idea actually! Let me just-" You begin, but he cuts you off with a sound that sounds awfully like a door closing.

"Fuck you, I'm there in 20." He says.

Jeon Jungkook was not too fond of woman.

That much was clear ever since he'd been cheated on and left with a kid, but it had always been like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of them, or didn't like them, it was more like, during his life, woman had been the reason for heartbreak and bad news all along. His mother had been an alcoholic, his dad desperately trying to get her back on track. His sister had been involved into shady business early on, a wild child that would do anything to get on peoples nerves. His aunt, which only ever visited to gain money. Women were bad news.

So his own surprise had been very prominent when he spotted you on the bench with his kid in your arms,her chubby arms clinging onto you like a koala. You seemed to be reading something on your phone, careful not to point the device too close to Mina so she wouldn't be disturbed. You were pretty, he had to admit that, even from far away- and you seemed like a confident person, from what he'd heard over the phone. You suddenly noticed him as he drove a bit closer, car tires crunching the gravel and snow underneath while his headlights shut off, to not blind you both. He stepped out, as you woke Mina up to announce to her that her father had finally arrived.

"Daddy!" She screached sleepily, running towards him with stumbling legs. He picked her up with a smile before he turned around, having every intention to buckle her up in his backseat as you came closer.

"Huh. Mind telling me why I shouldn't inform authorities about this?" You asked, and he huffed out a breath with a roll of his eyes, pulling out his wallet. You simply stood there, arms crossed, not at all fazed by the amount of money he held in front of you- you simply raised your eyebrow. "I mean, if money could talk I'd ask your bills, sure. But that right there isn't an answer." You replied, and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. Why were you being so difficult.

"Okay, how much?" He said, and you suddenly moved, shifted, as if absolutely offended by his offer.

"Do I look like a streetworker to you sir?" You said, and he closed his eyes for a moment, until another car seemed to pull up.

"You're getting picked up." He says, ready to step into his car as you look at him with confusion. "You don't know them?" He asks, and you shake your head, having every intention to check as he notices something familiar peeking out of one of the car windows. As if on autopilot, he rips his passenger side open, pushes you in, and runs to get inside the drivers seat.

There are shots fired, Mina is holding her hands over her ears as she simply stares at you, who is absolutely shell-shocked.

What the hell just happened?

So yeah, that's how you got here-

In a room that looked awfully like the interrogation rooms in your late night netflix crime shows. There was someone sitting in front of you- Mina's father, watching you, like you were going to do anything. But you were as quiet as a mouse, not saying anything.

"So you didn't know them? At all?" He questioned for the second time in the past ten minutes, and you shook your head. "Hard to believe. Then again, why would you ever tell me that your Dad's brother was sentenced to two years for escorting drugs- only getting two years because he snitched." He said, and your eyes widened.

"Okay what the hell-" You started, but he cut you off.

"Oh, I hit a nerve-" But you weren't having it.

"Oh an I'm gonna hit your pretty nose if you don't stop cutting me off!" You said, making him smirk. For some reason, this was quite entertaining to him- the only woman he ever had in here were so keen on keeping up that shy and innocent facade, that you were a breath of fresh air. "Listen, I don't know why you decided to dig up things that happened when I was literally a TODDLER- or how you even got that information - I swear to god I will really break your nose!" You ended as he had tried to speak again, making him chuckle.

If you weren't being held captive after getting your night ruined you might as well would've thought that was pretty hot.

"I was five years old- I had nothing to do with it, and my dad had no contact whatsoever with his brother after what had happened." You explained. "If you can find that, you can also find that I haven't had contact with my family in years either." You said, leaning back, as he spoke.

"I did. Which is quite confusing to me." He said.

You suddenly went stone cold on him. "It really isnt that deep." You said.

"Were you avoiding them?" He asked. "Because of what happened? Or because your dad got involved into something?"

"Because they're dead." You said.

Well. This was something that made him actually stop and think for a second. He did dig into that nasty part of your family, but he never looked further- their death was something he had overlooked. And by your reaction as you said it, the way you said it, he knew that you weren't lying. "Alright." He said. "But you do realize that I can't just let you go like that, right?" He said.

"Figured." You said. "So, should I stand facing against the wall or with my back against it so you can aim better?" You said, and he took a deep breath. Technically, yes, that would be a logical outcome.

"Neither." He said, and you raised your eyebrow. "I have an offering." He said, and your entire body went stiff, arms crossing in front of your chest. A pure sign of whatever he was going to say, your first reaction would be no. "I need a nanny for Mina." He said, and your lips parted, confusion clear on your face.

He almost thought it was kind of cute.

"You what?" You said.

"I need a nanny for Mina." He repeated. "It's a win-win situation for both of us if you think about it. You get to- in a way- keep your job and a bonus in terms of payment, and I will have someone to take care of Mina. And I also don't have to put a bullet into your pretty little head." He said, leaning forward with the last words.

"This isn't really a question, isn't it?" You said, and he laughed.

"You're smart- I like you."

„But that’s not how daddy does it..“ she wonders, as you tie her shoes for her, before looking up into her eyes. She really does resemble her father. Well, a more innocent version, that is.

„Well everyone does it differently.“ you say, well aware that there were numerous ways to tie a simple bow. „Your daddy probably has learned it from someone who does it like he does. I learned it from my dad.“ you explained as you went to pick up her backpack, carrying it for her as she took your hand.

„yours looks prettier tho!“ she exclaimed happily, a skip in her step as she kept looking at her shoes with a smile. You grinned, a sense of pride filling you. „Daddy‘s always looks crooked on one side-„ she said, before a voice broke through the sweet moment.

„You hurt me Princess. You always said they look nice.“ he hummed from his spot in the doorway, leaned on the frame, looking at you with something you could only describe as unsatisfied, while shooting his daughter a smile.

What the hell have you done wrong now?

This had been something going on for months now. Ever since you started working for him as a nanny, Mina had been nothing but a ray of sunshine- but he, he was not even a raincloud. He was the angry grinch miltiplied by a hundred, ready to piss everyone off twenty-five-eight. Somehow everything you did wasn't up to his standards; the way you cooked for Mina, the way you dressed her, hell, even right now with the way you tied a fucking bow.

You really hoped next time he washed his hands, his sleeves would roll down.

"There's an emergency gun underneath the back-" He started as Mina was out of listening-reach.

"I won't use it." You said.

Jungkook had tried to get you trained at least in the basics of guns- but you practically had an allergy to it, refusing to so much as touch one. He didn't quite know what your problem was, but after a while, he had given up on it- simply sending one of his guards with you whenever he could. By now, you were an easy target as well if found alone, so you had joined him in his place, occupying one of the larger guest rooms. He had said that it was to keep an eye on you, but internally, he simply didn't want you to get hurt.

And yeah, at first that was because he didn't trust you, at all- but by now, somehow, you had sneaked your way into his heart, in a way. Even though he himself would always grumpily comment on it, he loved how you made Mina smile and the entire mansion light up. Things felt a little brighter, a little less tense, and a little less lonely with you around. It felt as if you were an actual family.

And that scared the shit out of him, because in no way was he going to fall for his daughters nanny.

And, after all; you hated his guts.

If Jungkook knew the situation you and Mina had gotten yourselves into, you don't know if he would be proud of her or kill you.

Turns out that the guard Jungkook had sent you out with wasn't actually following his orders at all, but words from a different person entirely- you imagined they were highly likely the one's out to shoot you back when you first met the tall mafia boss and father. Now, the only thing they definitely did not get right however, was that you were Mina's mother- and someone Jungkook valued enough to give up his safety. This was true for Mina; the young child was his everything, and he'd cut off his limbs just to know her safe and sound- but you? That was just absolutely stupid. Sure, you've been living together for quite some time now, and he stopped trying to mentally push you down the stairs every morning as well. But there was nothing more than a mild case of friend- and partnership. You weren't being emo; Jungkook had, after all, said it again and again that he had crossed out the dating game. He's got enough trouble with Mina and you, he had said.

Well, seemed like one of those issues would solve itself.

"Again, what're you gonna do?" You say, as Mina looks at you from out of the vents above you had helped her into seconds ago.

"Crawl where the nice air is, call daddy- and don't look back." She repeats proudly, but you can see it clearly that she's just as scared as you are.

"Exactly, good job princess." You praise, and she nods with a pout. "Once daddy gets you, you'll be safe." You promise, and she wants to complain- but you don't let her, closing the vent again as you hear her shuffling away. This was fine. Mina would be safe, Jungkook would have one person less to worry about- he could move away, bring her to a different part of the country where no one knew her, and she could simply go to school next year and forget all of this ever happened.

You were just a bit sad that you'd never get to see it.

Of course you weren't her mother- but it was hard not to let her inside your heart, with the way she was. The charms her dad didn't have, she got them times ten. She was just so sweet, and you were around her all the time, it was hard not to somehow grow fond of her. You just hoped she'd be alright.

"Where's the kid, whore?!" A guard yelled after noticing you were the only one left in the room. You simply smiled, not answering, before he grabbed your neck, pulling you up as much as he could as he fumed. "Save that stupid grin for your son of a bitch at home." He barks, and you desperately try to breathe- unsuccessfully so, until he forcefully pushes you back down, the back of your head hiding the concrete floor with a sickening crack. You squealed out in pain, holding onto the spot for dear life as if that would somehow help it- but it didn't. "I knew sluts like you have to be tied up. You're all just trouble." He says, pulling you by your legs as another set of people come in, binding your legs and hands. You can already feel your fingers getting cold from how tight your wrists are tied- but you black out from the kick to your stomach before you can quite dwell on it.

"Fuck!" He yells, before he gets up, hands in his hair to somehow help himself not punch the laptop on his table. He's seen it, seen it all- from the moments you would shield Mina like a fearless lioness, the second you had lifted her up into the vents even though he knew your shoulder had to be in horrible pain, to the very moment you had faced the consequences of your actions. He hated that he had to wait, that he had to simply sit here in his office like a coward just to watch you take the beatings.

Because here was the thing with Jungkook; even though he liked to portray himself as someone who always takes the upper hand in things and troubles, when it came to his own personal life far away from his criminal business he ran, he couldn't seem to ever make up his mind. It was like a repeat of his past love affair- but instead of his ex-wife cheating and leaving him with a child, there was you, in some way fighting like a true lionness in order to keep said child safe and sound, even though you didn't even had to. Technically, this would've been the perfect opportunity for you to finally get your freedom back in a way. Because without Mina, there was no use for you being in his grasp anymore. Without her, there was no agreement between the two of you.

And yet there you were. And yet again, he simply watched, simply did nothing.

The entire mansion was already on high alert by now; his most trusted friends Seokjin and Yoongi already out to your location- he could wait. He could wait. He could wait.

Everything would somehow turn out to be just fine by the end of this day. He would successfully take his daughter into his arms, Yoongi and Seokjin would get you out of there, and after a good nights sleep and some first aid for you, things would just return to normal.

But what was normal at this point?

He didn't want things to continue like they did currently. He wanted change, for the first time in his life. He wanted to tell you about his inner thoughts, about his desires concerning you and his future. He wanted to tell you that he didn't just want you to be at his home and with him and his daughter just because of some stupid agreement. He didn't want you to stay with him because he forced you to.

His phone began to chime, your face greeting him as the caller ID as he accepts it. "Daddy-" His heart sinks down to the floor as he hears Mina sniffle on the other side of the line. He has to wait, he thinks, repeats like a mantra. He has to somehow calm her down, tell her everything's alright- "They're hurting mommy!" Mina wails, and somehow, those words make him snap.

Fuck waiting.

In a way, Mina was a smart kid. She had been nothing but understanding when Jungkook and her mother had broken up- divorced, and fought until she eventually left for good. She had been a little sad for a long time, thinking it had somehow been her fault; but he had assured her, and later on, explained, that Mommy simply didn't love Daddy anymore. In Daycare, she was one of the most well behaved kids ever encountered- careful, and calm. Of course she got excited and happy and sometimes made a mess; but she also was very careful who she interacted with, what kinds of friends she made, and how much she talked about home. She never complained, never threw public tantrums.

Jungkook truly was lucky- that the only thing left of his shattered marriage had been her.

He never had relationships after that- never dated, never truly searched for someone. No one, in his eyes, was worth the risk- and even after meeting you, that was his opinion. But as cliche as it sounded, you were quite different from anyone he'd ever met before.

You spoke your mind; always saying what bothered you, never beating around the bush. Yet, you weren't being a bitch about things. No, you actually could be pretty cute if you wanted to be- be it the moments he had caught you and Mina sneak a taste of her birthday cake in the middle of the night, or the one time he had been sick.

You had been such an angel to him.

Helping him towards the bathroom, never even scrunching your nose in distaste whenever he had to throw up. You simply rubbed his back, helping him towards the sink to rinse, just to lead him back into his bedroom. You had aired the room out, made the bed, made sure that he was staying hydrated and at least tried to eat every day- all without any complains.

Maybe that was the moment his perspective of you shifted into dangerous territory.

He had somehow become hyperaware of the things you did. How well you got along with Mina, how easy going you were becoming with him- how confident yet nurturing and sweet you were, gently scolding him sometimes to not overwork himself. You always made sure his kid felt happy and was healthy, never so much as whined about your past friendships lost; you had simply accepted the new situation.

In a way, you were what he silently dreamed of at night.

Because as much as he loved the sight of you holding Mina whenever she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep, he somehow also craved to be held throughout the night by your arms. Just like he held his daughter in that moment after she had climbed out of the vent into his arms. He could make out some of her words as he simply let himself feel her tiny body in his arms for a moment. Just to make sure she was really there, really alright, really out of harms way. She kept on crying out for you, for him to help you, to save you-

So it was only natural for him to jump out of his car and run after Seokjin, Yoongi, and their squad, as they entered the building.

Sometimes at night, when you got aware of all the different sounds of the room, you heard the blood rush inside your brain.

Just like now; but now, it was so loud that you could barely hear anything else. Things seemed hazy, fuzzy, your ears stuffed with cotton wool drowning out any sounds might happening around you. Your eyes stayed closed, light way too bright for your raging headache- and the stale metal taste on your tongue wasn't helping either. Your hands had started to tingle long ago, and your knees were hurting from being in the same position for this long. But the moment someone touched you next, it wasn't forceful. It was so gentle, and almost- scared?

You couldn't hear, but you could feel. How the rope was cut, blood rushing painfully into your hands and legs again, pins and needles making them hypersensitive as you were suddenly held- moved, carried?

It smelled like home, that was something your dizzy mind was able to properly make out. It smelled like Jungkooks mansion, and a bit like his office- a faint vanilla hitting your senses, making you faintly smile as your hand reached out, unknowingly grabbing his shirt, holding the fabric as tight as you could as you moaned out in pain when he placed you down again, warmth surrounding you.

Maybe you were dying?

Or maybe not.

Because after some hazy and confusing dreams, you slowly came back to your senses. Eyes opening slowly, there it was; the curtains you knew so well, the balcony opened, air crisp and fresh around you as the door opened. You wanted to move your head, but the fear of triggering another headache was too big.

"Y/N?" Jungkooks voice asked, warm, and almost hesitant. You hummed, and he snapped his head around, noticing that yes- after days of sleeping and slipping in and out of consciousness you were actually awake again. He walked into your field of vision, looking so casual; his white button up undone at the first two buttons, sleeves rolled up as he sat down close to you, palm on the blanket covering you as he-

smiled?

"W-" You had to cough a bit before clearing your throat. "Who are you and what have you done to Jungkook?" You said, and he chuckled, sighing in relief- you had, after all, not lost your charm.

"I think past Jungkook had a moment of self-reflection." He said, watching you as his hand placed itself onto yours, warmth spreading over your skin. "I'm glad you're okay." He admitted. "And thank you. For keeping.. Mina safe." He ended, and you smiled.

"That's literally my job." You said, and he got more serious.

"No, and you know what I mean." His voice was deep and rough, yet held no authority like usual. "You had chances to tell them who you were. That you had no connection to me other than through her; yet you didn't. And we both know why." He said, and you looked at him.

"There are more reasons than just one." You said, eyes drifting to his now empty ring finger on the hand resting on his thigh.

"Does it matter which one I mean?" He asked, and you wanted to scoff.

"It does to me." You said, and he shifted closer after a second, properly holding your hand now as he looked at yours- still a little scratched, but nothing that wouldn't heal.

"You did it because that's the reason you live here." He said. "You also did it because you adore her just as much as I do. And you.." He began, but grew unsure.

"And I?" You smiled, and he looked at you with his typical seriousness.

"And you somehow got stuck in an emotional mess." He explained. "You somehow, deep down, wanted it to be true." His thumb moved over the back of your hand as he spoke. "You wished that.. maybe there was more to it than just, partnership." He said, and you still smiled gently.

"Did I now?" You teased, but to your surprise, he was still looking straight at you.

"I know I did." He humms out. "I still do."

"You're stupid." You said, and he laughed bitterly, taking your words the wrong way as he slipped his out of yours.

"I know." He said, getting up to leave but stopped as you spoke.

"Good." You said, chuckling before coughing. "What, no kiss for me after all I've been through?" You giggled as his wide eyes stared at you. "Rude." You said, and he suddenly realized that no- you weren't rejecting him. You were accepting.

You felt the same.

Noticing his own awkwardness, he leaned over, hands supporting his body as he leaned down, properly placing his lips onto yours. You had never imagined what kissing Jungkook would feel like, but you certainly would've never guessed how gentle and absolutely loving it would be. One of his hands moved towards your cheek, holding it, as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"Mommy!" Came Mina's excited voice, cries instantly noticable as she jumped onto the bed, burying her head into your chest as you held her, a few tears in your eyes from her jumping.

"Mina baby, be careful okay?" He said. But your words were the reason that he ended up tearing up, at the end.

"Mommy's still hurting baby." You said. "But she'll get better soon."

Not even during the first few magical months of being together with his past ex, had it ever felt like this.

He was euphoric almost; with the way you felt, moved, breathed. It all felt like so much to him, made him feel so.. He couldn't explain it. He had his hands on your hips, fingers careful not to press too hard, but having enough force to move you back and forth over his lap- his length moving in and out of your heat, making you whine, as he watched your breasts in front of him. You fit so perfectly like this, felt so amazing, managed to make him feel needy instead of the other way around.

He turned you over slipping out of you sloppily as he moved positions, now above you as he spread your legs, entering you again easily. He pulled you by your thighs, holding you in place as he began to thrust again, your eyes closing with every movement of his hips.

He loved the sight of it.

Deep down he wanted to take the condom off; he wanted to fill you up, cum inside over and over and over until your cunt would overflow. Not only just to claim you in a weird animalistic sense, but to also make his family complete. He had cut his ties to his illegal activities by now, had settled down with you- and he knew, there was no other person he'd ever have a child with again than with you. "I want to cum inside." He said breathlessly, making you whine in return. "Hm, you'd like that?" He asked teasingly, his thrusts gaining more strength as if to underline his statement. "Stuff you full of my cum, make you leak it and mess up the sheets.." He continues, hand reaching between the two of you to find your clit. "just to make love to you over and over again. I wanna make you cry." He gritted out, suddenly moving you around face down. He pulled up your lower body, entering you again, gliding in easily with the amount of slick you were leaking. "And you'd take it wouldn't you?" He asks, making you nod and groan out as he grows more desperate, faster, harder- throwing you off the edge but never stopping. "You're gonna take it until I cum, don't you dare move away from me." He scolds, holding you tightly, making you gasp out in overstimulation as he continues on, chasing his own high.

He reaches it with a loud groan, burying himself deep inside as he holds you, peppering kisses onto your spine. "I love you, hm.." He whispers out. "So good, so pretty.. all mine.." He huffs, simply falling onto the mattress with you in his arms, cock still buried inside you.

There was a moment of silence, until he spoke again. "I really do mean it though." He said earning only a tired humm from you. He simply chuckled at that, holding you close as he decided to maybe bring that topic up when the timing was a bit better.

For once, he felt like a normal person. Right next to you, in your arms, as you turned around to pull him close, burying your face into his chest.

Right where he belonged.

[amyscascadingtabs]

this is sappy but whatever. i wrote most of this before the season started (which is why i come off as reasonable and somewhat mentally stable about all of this) but felt appropriate to post it now as a thank you. ❤️

i have vivid memories from the night b99 was cancelled. the news came late evening my time, and i had been editing fic and checked twitter and there it was. loud and clear. i don’t remember which site it was but the picture was jake and amy with their wedding cake and that made everything feel even worse.

i remember freaking out even though i had been prepared, because those last days before the news hit on tumblr were... panicked. but i still freaked out to the extent that i ran outside in my pajama pants and hoodie and blue plastic slippers and called my mom, and then i walked up and down the streets where i lived in the darkness and cried in frustration as she tried to talk me down. i remember there were random guys with motorcycles out? but i was too hysterical to care. i’m pretty sure i screamed something to my mom about ”HOW CAN BIG BANG THEORY GET A BILLION SEASONS BUT THIS SHOW GETS CANCELLED????”

i know everyone who was in the fandom at the time has their cancellation story. what played the biggest part in mine was the fact that i felt like i hadn’t had enough time. really, i had only just become active in the fandom, only just started interacting with people on here and writing my first few fics, but i was absolutely loving it. it was giving me happiness again after a long period of emptiness and depressive feelings. when it was cancelled, what made me feel the worst was the fact that i’d had so little time – to make friends, write fic and react to episodes together. i felt deeply jealous of everyone who’d gotten more.

thinking about it coming to an end now has made me remember that night and those feelings of jealousy. because i did get more time. i got three more years. that night, i remember asking for just one, for a half, for anything, and i got three years.

and these three years have been a whirlwind of emotions and feelings and episodes and debates and discussions and gifsets and fanfic and asks and having this as my safe space while pretty much everything changed around me in the outside world, and i just want you all to know that i have never taken a single day of them for granted. this show could have been taken from me before i’d ever gotten the chance to grow with it and alongside it, and instead it was part of my life for three whole years.

i have a really, really good memory (four time quiz champion anyone? just me?okay <3), and i remember so much of it in such detail, and it's so weird to think about how long it's been when it also feels like yesterday.

i remember my first comment on peraltiago parenting experience, my first episode-related fic, the insane high after the renewal, staying up all night to watch the wedding live. i remember writing fanfiction on the beach while on vacation in greece, on a plane to berlin, at home on my parents balcony late late at night. i remember the honeymoon episode title being released, s6 starting filming again, the excitement over every little piece of news and finding about the cast directing. i remember labor fic and christmas fics and when i scroll back to pictures of my paris trip in january 2019 it's interspersed with a billion pictures of andy at the golden globes. i remember lighting my fairy lights in my little basement room and watching season 6 in bed at 2.30 am if it was a big episode, and watching it in the morning before fridays in high school most days. i remember writing post-ep fics during classes and on my phone on subways and trains. i remember the s7 news, and the casecation nerves and debates, and fucking kissgate. being named "the class amy santiago" by my friends when we graduated and getting a little silver paper plate to show for it. i remember the first fic exchange and inventing julian and simon santiago and i remember meeting @johnny-and-dora and eating wagamamas in manchester and talking about how simon santiago was DEFINITELY on the stairs and buying a little fake plant that i named andy plantberg (he's still in a box somewhere). i remember writing fic during slow hours in the ice cream shop i worked at. moving and putting up my framed b99 poster in my own apartment (very much still up). finding out about trying and everyone going fucking crazy. infertility fic. melissa's pregnancy news. s7 promo and standing outside my job the very first day and texting siân "AMY HAS TO PEE!!!!!???" because that was in the promo and we knew there were pregnancy tests involved in the first episode. the crazy happiness of s7 finally premiering. everyone going crazy about jake and amy deciding to start trying and how i could quote the scene verbatim the next few days. the week leading up to trying, what turned out to be the last normal week before the pandemic. the fucking MESS i was after that. the following week and ding dong and crying with happiness. being dizzy with hyperfixation joy the following day and barely feeling aware of the covid pandemic for the first few days because i was just thinking about jake and amy having a baby. getting through the first few weeks mostly because of b99. admiral peralta and finding out we were having a BOY and not even being disappointed even though the headcanon had been the opposite for years because it was perfect. the iconic b99 quizzes. lights out and mac being born. somehow managing 475 days before season 8, coping together when we got the news about the final season, watching the cast do their final day of filming. the first stream being interrupted by a storm warning and cutting out several minutes because of course. getting to see parents peraltiago and MAC and the insane speed with which those few seconds were giffed. more b99 quizzes. the vow renewal. the finale.

i remember all of it and so much more and as much as my heart is breaking, i’m trying to remind myself that i could have gotten none of this.

brooklyn nine-nine has been such an important part of my life. and it always, always will be, forever. i could have lost it all that night, and instead i got three more years. if i'd known that when i was walking the streets outside my house in the darkness in complete panic, i would have cried with happiness.

so thank you. all of you. for everything. ❤️❤️❤️ for the friendships, the joy, the asks, the debates, the fic response, EVERYTHING. whether we've shared three years or one or less, just know that i'm so grateful.

have some random pictures i found and screenshots from my private instagram (which is inactive so don't bother) from when i started this hyperfixation. jesus lmao 😭😭😭😭 i am less insane now. no i'm not. but i express it less on instagram.

[soulwillower]

friendly neighborhood spiderman • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: soooo my idea was an e2l spiderman richie x reader. they hate each other at school, but one day while patrolling he sees her with her friends outside and watched her and is like ‘shit maybe she’s not so bad’. then proceeds to be mean to her at school anyways. then a few days later he sees her crying her e yea a out and talks to her as spidey, consoles her, start liking each other. and then at school he’s a jerk and she’s like I can’t take ur shit. make up. friends. lovers. photographer reader.   +    ok so I was thinking maybe her parents are divorced and it’s smth abt how both parents tell her totally different stories abt the divorce. like the mom says we never loved each other, it was arranged marriage, but he abused me and cheated on me. and the dad says she was a psycho always stealing my stuff and bitching at me. we thought shE had schizophrenia. both her parents are ok to her so she gets fed up and leaves home crying. Goes to rooftop sees Spider-Man AND BOOM LOVE. self indulgencE here

warnings: enemies to lovers (my specialty), mentions of a rough divorce, a bit of violence, spiderman!au, slight blood, unedited, she/they pronouns for reader

[losers + reader are 18.]

6.4k words

♡

you're convinced it started when you missed the subway. 

that was the butterfly flapping it's wings; then the chaos of the rest of the day just happened to fall in place because some sadistic twist of fate said it so, and now you're rolling your eyes at your friend in the hallway, backpack loose on your right shoulder with a budding black eye that was throbbing with the pain of a hundred suns. 

you'd snuck up on your classmate in the dark room (first mistake) and then tried to scare him (second), resulting in a metal water bottle to the face. "well if you just ice it, i'm sure the swelling and the pain will go away..." your friend trails off as you sigh, nodding in agreement. "i'm so embarrassed, i'm just hoping it doesn't bruise." 

"-y/n, what's up with you? wh- oh." your other friend says as they join you, eyes landing on your swollen cheek. 

it was this moment that richie tozier, certified asshole, walks near with three of his friends. richie, the bane of your existence. also, the boy whose locker is four away from yours. sensing your fatal hesitance, richie grins, "y/n's still upset because someone dropped a house on their sister." he making everyone snicker. you glare at the ground. 

you don't want him to see your face; any kind of ammo would be enough for richie to take and go miles with, and you're not in the mood for one of your typical screaming matches, as much as the others at this school love to watch. 

"woah, y/l/n, who gave you the shiner?" he asks as he twists his fingers around his locker combination. 

"why? you trying to match?" you threaten, and richie just smiles. he's laughing into his open locker as you roll your eyes, your friends peeling away eventually as you start to search through your locker. 

"so," richie starts just as you thought the silence would stay until you could flee. you groan, leaning your head on the locker as he continues, "did flash finally figure out who's been saran-wrapping his car?" 

you narrow your eyes, "how'd you know that was me?" you ask, certain that nobody had seen you besides three of your friends. it's doubtful they'd tell richie. 

his face pales slightly and a rosy blush blossoms on his high cheekbones as he shakes his head, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. "because, e-everyone knows." he stutters out weakly. you give him a weird look, shaking your head. "bullshit." you mutter as you brush past him, slamming your locker closed. “creep.” 

- 

richie hadn't meant to stalk them. y/n y/l/n's friend group just happened to be on the route he usually patrolled after classes, so he unintentionally ended up watching them pop in and out of the drugstore.

it was nearing a golden light around the city as richie sits on the fire escape of some building across the way - y/n's distinct figure sliding out of the store, arms wrapped inconspicuously around a bag and smile bright enough that richie can barely see the shiner still catching the light on y/n's left eye. 

he briefly wonders where it's really from, and if y/n was okay. he wonders if y/n was robbed, or if he could've been there to stop it. 

it's not until the three others in y/n's gang of idiots run out of the store that it clicks in richie's head - they definitely just stole those cookies, chips, the bottles of pop, the - richie tilts his head, squinting his eyes. yes, y/n definitely stole that handle of tito's. 

then y/n’s lifting the sheet in their hands - it looks clear, and then it’s being wrapped around a car in the parking lot. he’s alarmed, for a moment - y/n wouldn’t do that to just anybody, he doesn’t think. but then he laughs into his mask when he recognizes the car: flash thompson’s. 

he’s a nightmare, and he makes richie’s life hell just as much as flash makes y/n’s life hell and the rest of richie’s friends. so he leaves her be to saran wrap the car. 

feeling relieved that when he got his powers his vision repaired itself, richie can't help but chuckle, watching y/n's hair glint in the light and the way they tilt back in laughter, the gaggle of friends traipsing away from the store and down the block. richie's lips quirk in a small grin: shit, maybe y/n's not so bad. 

- 

but despite that, richie and y/n's rivalry did nothing but steadily increase for the next week.

maybe it was because you were furious that you and your bio partner, richie's best friend stan, had gotten a b- on your lab, or maybe it was just  because richie was just feeling a bit more testy than typical. 

you're sure it's because when you go to your debate club's meeting, you find none other than richie tozier sitting across from your chair. 

"why is he here?" you ask the teacher, and he nods to richie, "i requested he attend a meeting, try it out. richie's quite talented, you know. i figured we could bring in a new challenge for you." 

“just because someone can talk a lot doesn’t mean they have anything good to say.” you snap. 

you can't even look at the cocky smirk on richie's face, his feet kicked up as he lounges at the desk. "intimidated, toots?" he asks cooly, and you roll your eyes. "never." 

and then ten minutes later, you’re doing a brainbreaking exercise where you’re split into groups of two and debating over a topic given to you. but you and richie were far more distracted by each other. 

“you know, for someone who everyone says is the best intellectual match for me, you’re a straight up douche and i can’t wait to graduate and never see you again.”

“compatible intellect, doll, not personalities. maybe if you stop acting like such an infant and stamping your feet around, we can part ways even faster.”

you glare at him. he glares back. then nothing else happens. 

the stress of the day caught up to you nearly immediately as you got home. you're holding back tears as you ignore your parents, who are screaming at each other; instead changing into sweats and a sweatshirt, brewing yourself a mug of tea, and slinking up to the roof with a blanket, prepared to mope around in the drizzle of rain. at least on the roof, nobody will see you cry. 

but the universe just can't let you have anything as of lately, because as soon as you finally settle down on the roof sitting on the blanket, and nearly letting a tear escape, a figure stands up a mere twenty feet from you, and you jump a bit. apprehensively, your eyes squint, and you're shocked to discover a spiderman suit bright in the dreary lighting of the overcast afternoon. 

the suit-clad person seems to be surprised by you as well, as you stand up, you're wary, unsure of how to act. of course you've heard of spiderman - he's all anyone can talk about lately, but you never expected to see him this close. what do you say?

"are you real?" you croak out. 

"am i- yes, what kind of question is that?"  his voice is way younger than you expected, and you're almost thrown off. he's closed the distance between you now, standing between you and the edge of the building, about four feet away. 

you narrow your eyes, immediately wanting to test him. "well, i don't know, i've seen people around jackson heights just wearing costumes like spiderman-" you argue, shrugging. 

the bickering is unexpected from a literal superhero, but it's strangely familiar to you. frowning, you walk closer to the masked figure, watching as spiderman takes steps backwards. he's at the edge of the building, and so without any thought, you place both of your palms across his sturdy chest and shove as hard as you can. "wait, wait what are you-" and spiderman's voice fades as he stumbles back, falling off the edge of the building with a yelp. 

for a moment, your breath leaves your lungs, and your hands slap your mouth. what did you just do? you can't breathe, tears clouding your vision yet again. 

but then a sticky, stringy substance slaps to the side of the building and the figure comes flying up, having catapulted himself up and back on the roof with a web. you gasp in relief, but the figure is already talking. 

"-what the fuck is your deal?" are the first words from the masked boy as he walks away from the ledge. your eyes are still wide, heart thumping fast and your tears are still there, threatening to fall. "-what if i wasn't actually spiderman, i- you could've killed an innocent person, holy sh-" 

you're tuning him out, though, the realization that you could have just killed someone finally pushing you over the edge. you crumble onto the blanket and let out a short, cut off sob. 

"woah, woah, hey..." spider-man looks hesitant, but then comes towards you where you fall to the gravel. "-hey, what's h-what are you doing, why are you crying?" he says, voice going softer. you frown, wondering why his voice seems so deep and forced. batman did that to conceal his identity, you think before letting out a sob, shaking your head. "shouldn't you be out, like, fighting crime or whatever?" 

"i'm here to make sure people are okay. you're clearly not okay." he argues, and you're too tired to try and argue with this stranger. 

"my parents are getting divorced," you sniff, eyes squeezing shut as more thick tears leak down your cheek. you know you probably look destroyed right now in front of this hero, but you don't care. after silence from him, he sits down right next to you on your blanket, backs leaning against some electrical box.

"and.. i can't tell who's lying. they told me completely different things." you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly. "my mom says it was a l-loveless marriage, that he- my dad used to... hurt her. and cheat on her-" you hiccup, wiping your eyes, makeup leaking on your hands. 

"my dad says she's psychotic. that she steals his stuff, that she always yells at him, and i can't-" you sigh, looking up at the clouds, watching a flock of birds fly away in the misting of the wet weather. "i feel like they see me as a pawn to play off each other. and at my school, i'm just the antagonist. people only like me because they like to see the fights i get into with this other kid." 

"midtown is just like that, i'm sure none of them mean anything by it-" you look at the boy, squinting as you take in the red fabric stretching over sharp cheekbones.

 "-how d'you know i go to midtown?" you sniffle. does spiderman go there, too? or teach there? how old is he, because he certainly seems too young to be a teacher?

he leans back, exhaling in an admission of guilt that flares a feeling of familiarity in you somewhere, something that's on the tip of your tongue. "lucky guess?" he states, choking it out as if he was trying to form the right words. you decide to brush it off, the feeling of being able to vent to a complete stranger suddenly making you feel better. the light mist in the air even feels good, now. 

"i can't deal with it. i just don't know. why should this have to be something they vent to me about? it hurts, i don't know what to believe and i just don't know what to do. i'm lost, i just need to have someone here for me." you hug yourself slightly, "am i selfish?" you finally ask, voicing the thought that's been nagging you for months. it's silent for a moment. a car horn sounds in the distance, a dog barks, people call to each other in the street. below you, the street is dotted with tiny moving umbrellas, concealing people underneath their net of dry safety in mere splotches of yellow, black, pink from how high up you are. 

spider man's nudging you in the ribs softly, then, calling you back to your own body. "listen. i know selfish, okay? i'm the definition of it, but, uh..." 

"y/n." you sniffle. "-y/n. trust me, you're not selfish for wanting to be loved, to be cared for...it's, um..." he scratches the back of his head, and you briefly wonder what color his hair is. what texture, length, how he styles it. 

"you deserve good things to happen, and, uh, it's not selfish for you to be overwhelmed. you're going through stuff that people our age shouldn't go through. especially not alone."

"so you are my age?" you ask, sniffling. sensing him tense next to you, you brush it off. you kind of figured as much from his...immaturity. "and you - spiderman - think you're selfish? do you know how much of a paradox that statement is?" you jest, shaking your head. 

spiderman's head tilts back, and he laughs. it seems to surprise him almost as much as it surprises you, because he shakes his head, trying to stifle it quick. "you forget," he starts, his fingers tapping at the tight fabric on his thighs. "that i also have a life. i'm not just spiderman. so... yeah, maybe spiderman's not the most selfish person ever, but... i am. the real me." 

"you have to care a lot about people to want to do what you do." you say, feeling better after talking to someone and hearing his reassurance. "you're not always spiderman, but... y'now, spiderman is always you. i'd say that makes you a good person." you say simply. you sigh, heart still hurting.  you start with a deep breath, then a quiet, "you ever feel stuck? like..."

"like you're playing two people at once?" he finishes. you swallow, feeling oddly seen by this masked stranger. "yeah, spiderman." you say dejectedly. 

-

and that was the start of an odd, unlikely friendship between you and the masked stranger. he'd stop by your building almost every other day, even if for a few minutes, always to check in on you, to ask how your day was. it made your chest fill with butterflies and the air fill with your laughter. 

despite your new friendship, things at midtown sort of took a turn for the worse. 

it was just richie, really. your black eye was gone but richie seemed to be compensating for something every time he saw you - the person who used to be a challenging enemy turned into a malicious tormentor, who would comment on every single thing you do. it was driving you mad. 

you're just lucky richie doesn't know that you do all the school's photography somehow, or at least, doesn't remember, because he's gone the days that you take photos for the decathalon, the honor society, and the band. each time you asked, someone told you some lame excuse like, 'oh, tozier's at the orthodontist.' 

richie doesn't have braces, though. 

you can’t help but wonder why richie’s never there, why he’s always sneaking off, buying new backpacks... bruises on his eyes...

the last straw is when you and stan are just trying to finish this replacement lab to get a better grade, and richie's sitting at the end of the table with bill denbrough, the two of them playing paper football and laughing loudly like they're fourth graders. 

you resist the urge to beg stan to get his moronic friends away from you, knowing that it would just insult the boy and get you nowhere. 

so, with gritted teeth and a tight grip on your pen, you work in relative silence with stan while the two imbeciles chuckle at each other at the other end of the room, disturbing the quiet peace of the library. 

"so, y/l/n, you goin' to prom?" richie asks out of the blue, feigning innocence. you grip your pen tighter, knowing it's a trap. don't bite, y/n. don't bite. don't bite, don't bite, don't bite-  "it's a little soon to be thinking about prom." you say, trying to skirt around the issue. 

"it's okay, not everyone can get a date, you can still go with friends." he says, also trying to sound nonchalant. you snort, "like you could get a date either." 

bill laughs as he pulls out some homework, having finally decided to make good use of his time. "you can go together, then." bill mutters. stan huffs a laugh at that, too. "i have plans that night." you say immediately, eyes not leaving your paper as stan smirks at you in amusement. 

"no, yeah, y/n. let's go together." richie says, "i can meet the ol' pops and get to see your mom again. that reminds me, i can’t stop by to see her, so give her a big old kiss from me tonight, will ya?"  he asks with a wink. 

"is everything a joke to you?" you ask, trying to hide your irritation by acting bored. you ignore the feelings you get from his wink. 

"only funny things, doll." richie smiles, a crooked grin that, if you didn't know his personality, would make you swoon. it's suddenly no wonder to you why the people at this school always giggle and whisper and laugh with him; he's utterly gorgeous. 

"it's not your fault your mom likes me more than your dad." he jokes, chuckling to himself. "shut up, i'm trying to do homework." bill says, then promptly kicks him under the table, which you're grateful for because the pain that flashes across your face momentarily is concealed from richie's gaze as he winces and ducks down for a second. 

that shouldn't have hurt you because he's obviously just joking with you and doesn’t know, but since the tenseness in your house recently and the ugly divorce, things have just been extremely hard. you cannot stand his audacity; richie thinks he can say whatever he want and get excused because he's too damn pretty. you clench your fists. 

"y/n, i'll give you ten dollars to slap him." stan says, barely paying attention; a pen hangs from between his lips, brows furrowed as he works on your reassignment, eyes calculating. you think, for a moment, how nice it'd be to be real friends with stan. if not for richie. 

and for some reason, in that split moment, you don't think. you're pent up, angry at the world, at your teacher, at richie, at your parents, and because you can't be friends with stan because richie gets in the way of everything - and you whirl around, catching richie by surprise as you land a slap to his face that resonates throughout the whole library. a gasp sounds from somewhere behind you as the librarian startles out of her work. 

suddenly, four pairs of eyes are staring at you. 

you blink back, face feeling as warm as richie's red cheek looks. 

the librarian didn't hesitate to send you and richie to the principal's office, resulting in a suspension for you and richie alike, the two of you not meeting eyes in the waiting room outside the administrative offices. 

the subway trip and then consequential walk home was lonely, rainy, and dismal.

- - - 

besides your parents and your immediate friends, the only other person you told about the suspension was spiderman, when he came to see you on the roof that afternoon. you told him about richie, how you'd decked him for hitting a sore subject with you. 

"you know, he seems like a dick but... i bet he means well. i'm sure he does." is all spiderman had said, acting fidgety before leaving. despite that, it had still felt good to know you could trust him. 

the next monday at school is when you see richie again, face clean and clear of any evidence of your fist. 

you were walking home from school when you passed across the football field. he was with his friends on the turf, seemingly not getting on the subway yet. they're sprawled out, all seven of them, smoking cigarettes or playing a game of travel chess, one of them reading a book. there’s an empty can of coke, one of the glass bottles, filled with gross water and cigarette butts. stan sits with richie, beverly marsh laying with her head in his lap as she smokes, sunglasses red and blocking the sun. 

before you get too close, before they can notice, you snap a photo of them. they just look timeless. 

but then, as you put away your camera, richie sees you. you get ready for a fight; but what comes is just  sheffling feet and fingers fidgeting slightly. "y/n." he starts off with as he walks up to you, all by himself. 

you watch him, your own eyes flowing with guilt. "hey, richie." you say, trying to be better about controlling your attitude. "i wanted to say i'm sorry." he says, and you widen your eyes. he what?

"i sometimes don't know how to stop running my mouth, and i went too far. i usually do. and i'm sorry, i just want to start fresh." he says honestly. you swallow - something about his words, about the way he said selfish...

you shake your head, "no, i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have hit you." richie shrugs, "i deserved it, s’okay." 

it's quiet. 

"being friends is good." you say, shrugging. "as long as i can still tell you that i think you're acting like a three year old."  "as long as i still can act like one." he counters, grinning. and then he's shaking your hand and walking away. 

you feel better the rest of the day. 

- - - 

"you know, i'm a photographer." you whisper that same night in the dark.  "you are?" the boy in the suit next to you sounds genuinely shocked. you beam, "y-yeah, i actually got a few wicked shots of you from a few weeks ago."

"are you the one that's been selling my photos to all the papers?" he asks, and you laugh, head tilting toward the sky. "no, not me." he hums, a laugh escaping that doesn't sound like his usual voice he uses around you. you've accepted that spiderman's been hiding his identity and voice from you because you may recognize him. you've also decided that he's probably from midtown - but there are over seven thousand students at midtown, so chances are still slim. 

why is it that this boy, who you don't even know the name of, has captured your attention? why do you feel like kissing him all the time? 

“oh, here’s a shot i took.” you say, pulling out the photo you’d just finished developing in the dark room today. “couple days ago. i just finished developing it.” 

you show it to him, and you can’t tell his reaction at all. “it’s not really impressive, i just - they’re just some kids in my class, but... i don’t know, there’s something about them that i just really think should be made into art.” 

he’s quiet after that, but holds on to the photo hard enough that you’re worried it may wrinkle. 

“god, y/n-” he stops himself, voice cracking and nearing the closest you’ve ever heard it to being true to him. not the weird, batman garbage. 

“this is cool. you should- you should show them, i bet they’d like it.” 

you scoff, “no, they wouldn’t.” you take the photo back, fingers tracing richie’s face, the way his lips curl around a cigarette, the way his dark hair and eyebrows and eyelashes clash with his skin and clothes. you shake your head, “this is the boy i hit. when i got suspended. i don’t think he’d like this very much. probably call me a freak.” 

you meet his eyes - or, you suppose you do - and then his hand is hovering in front of your face, debating. you don’t dare move, and then he’s combing hair behind your ear, giving you chills that run down your spine.

you clear your throat, smiling softly as he moves his hand away.

spiderman doesn’t say much after that. 

it’s minutes until he speaks again. "shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" he suddenly asks, and you sigh, beginning to pack up your things and gather your backpack. he follows you to the edge of the building and as you climb down the ladder to the fire escape, he webs himself and falls back, landing above you against the bricks when you stand up. 

you're nearly eye level now as he hangs upside down, listening to you rant. "-maybe i'll just walk to mary's place. it's not that far-" you cut yourself off as you're opening your window, eyes landing on the figure in your room, who looks just as confused as you. 

your eyes widen, "m-mom!" you say, alarmed as spiderman hangs next to you, just barely sealed from your mother's sight by the brick wall.

"is someone there with you, y/n?" she asks, tilting her head to get a look. you shake your head quickly, thankful that it's dark out and she can probably only see you, backlit by the lights from the alley below. she explains something about being unable to take you to your friend's house - and you nod along, willing for her to just leave. "that's okay, mom. i can take the subway." you say honestly. it's harder to drive around here, anyways. 

she finally leaves, and you let out a breath, unsure as to how she'd react to know you were with spiderman on the roof. you let out a small laugh, and so does he. 

"well, walking will be fine. she's just paranoid, and plus - i have you." you say, joking as you nudge his shoulder. but instead of laughing or going off the joke as he usually would, spiderman hums in agreement. 

"no matter what, you'll be safe. i promise." spiderman says from where he hangs upside down from the top edge of your fire escape, face almost level with yours. that makes your heart skip a beat, his words swirling around your stomach in a warm pool of comfort. 

you smile, "okay." you whisper. you believe it. 

then, before you slip into your window and he slips out into the night, you turn to him. you can only hope he's looking at you, the mask always leaving it to speculation.

 "can i try something? just once?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest as you step closer to him. he hesitates, and you wonder if he's biting his lips, or his cheek; if his eyes are wide or narrowed in thought. you wonder, for the thousandth time, what he looks like.

but eventually, it comes. "yes," he whispers.

gently, your fingertips find the edge of his mask down near his neck, and in the barely lit up corner of your fire escape you start to peel away his mask, revealing just his jaw, chin, and lips. goosebumps appear on his soft skin in the wake of your touch. 

you feel butterflies. 

his pale white skin reflects off the moonlight slightly, his jawline sharp as your fingers find their way across his skin, his mouth parting to take in a breath, lips full and red in the darkness. you wish you recognized these lips. 

in fact, a voice somewhere in you screams that you wish it was richie's lips. you abolish that thought before you have time to think about it.

you can tell he's nervous, but you don't know if it's because he doesn't trust you and thinks you're going to whip off his mask, or because he knows what you're about to do. you're pulled toward him by an invisible force, the kind that wishes and hopes and needs you to be closer to him, whoever he is. 

his jaw is structured and you feel it clench slightly under your hand as you cup his cheeks, barely raising on your tip toes as you near his upside-down face. you're not sure if he's breathing but, honestly, you know you aren't either. you just have to do this. so you close the gap. 

his lips are plush and less chapped than you'd expected, his presence warm and protecting and exuding bashfulness yet somehow also emanating confidence. he rises almost as the tide does at your grandma's old house in the east, tilting his head as your nose brushes against the skin on the side of his jaw. 

richie’s face flashes behind your closed eyes, and it makes you take in a sharp breath, realizing that yes, okay, maybe you do want to kiss richie. but you're not - you're kissing spiderman. you feel light, butterflies thrashing around. 

his hand, covered by his mesh suit's fabric, falls to the nape of your neck, upside down so his thumb rests right on the soft of your throat, where your heart thumps hard and quick against him. 

you swear you've never felt more like you're flying. you pull away after a few moments, your face burning even with the slight breeze. his hand stays on your neck for a split moment and then he lets it drop, returning to hold his web that keeps him suspended.

you watch with a small, shy smile as he bites his lip, containing what could only be the most beautiful smile you would ever see. you frown for a moment as you get that inkling again that you should know him. 

"please, what's your name?" you finally ask again. he had to trust you, right? you've had countless opportunities to pry, to rip his mask off, to find out yourself. but you want him to trust you with it, to want to tell you. 

his smile slowly fades, and yours does too. "can't you just tell me your name?" you whisper in desperate frustration. 

his mouth opens, then closes as if he decided against it. carefully, one hand pulls his mask back over his lips, concealing him once again as spiderman. the boy you finally knew for a mere minute is gone, probably forever. "i can't. i wish i could." 

"well, okay." you say, feeling heartbroken and frustrated. angry.  

"okay." it almost gets swallowed up by the breeze as you shut your window behind you. he's gone, swinging across streets and over buildings in the distance by the time you wipe your eyes of the tears. 

- - - -

you don't see spiderman the next week. 

it seems as though only knowing spiderman for a little longer than a month and suddenly not seeing him took more of a toll on you than you'd expected; you watch yourself go through the motions of each day with no complaint, barely any words, the world around you boring.

wake up, get ready, drink a breakfast shake, late for class, leave school, homework, wait on the rooftop for your friend who you know will never show. dinner. back on the rooftop. go to bed. 

you're about to leave school on friday when it hits you, the thing that has been missing from your regular school routine. and for some reason, not having been able to see him is just as painful as not seeing spiderman. 

richie. 

you don't know why you're feeling so emotional - or maybe it's just because as much as you hate each other, the fun rivalry you keep alive with him is what gets you through life at midtown. he keeps you on your toes. 

so you seek him out for what may be the first time in your life, just to find him out back on the turf in his usual spot with all his friends. 

"tozier." you call, halting all conversation with his group of losers as they cease their talking, staring up at you with seven pairs of owl eyes. you have no clue why you're nearly in tears. maybe, in an odd way, he's a replacement, a surrogate. for a friend that you'll never see again. and you're furious at both of them.

"where the fuck have you been?" you ask. 

you watch in slight surprise as the color drains from his face, eyes widening in shock. you didn't expect him to have this reaction, in fact - you came here to pick a fight, to get the opposite of... this. richie looks as if he's been caught in the biggest lie of his life, and it's unsettling. 

he seems to shake off whatever the fuck that emotion was he just had as he stutters, "what-what do you mean?" 

you scowl at him, " did you just give up? that easy, huh? i thought you were better than that." 

richie, for a split second, looks like he might get sick, or cry. it just makes you more confused and, for some reason, more angry. for no reason. "y/n, how did you find-" 

"it's been silent in the halls, tozier. i don't know if i should be thankful or weirded out that you decided to mature overnight. you being nice to me, not being a freak... it's weird, but it's... when i said i was done with your shit and you asked to be friends, i didn't mean that i wanted you to ignore me." 

he blinks his owlish eyes at you, "OH." he states loudly, pressing his fingers to his temples as he shakes his head, "christ, i thought- nevermind. you missed me that much, doll?" he tries to ease back into his teasing attitude but you can tell it's forced. and you don't know why. his friends suddenly all look relieved too, as if they know something big that you don't. 

"forget it. this was so stupid." you mutter, walking past them briskly, barely even catching stan's eye. you don't cry until you get on the subway. 

that night, you almost didn't go up onto the roof. 

why should you? spiderman wasn't your friend anymore, he clearly got scared away when you kissed, or when you asked him who he was. it hurts, you think as you look at the dark skyline of queens, it hurts that he won't trust you with something as simple as a name. 

but you're still up there, staring at the cloudless sky and thinking of the taste of those lips as a whoosh, thud and a groan jolt you from your tranquil misery. 

you don't believe your eyes at first, but when the figure stumbles toward you, arm reaching to its neck, you definitely recognize him. "h-hey?" you say nervously, squinting against the dying light to try and see why spiderman's bent like that, stumbling to you, until he falls nearly at your feet. 

you gasp as you get a closer look; it's hard to see with the red of his suit, but he's got a fair blood stain coming out of his neck area, a slash through the neck that leads towards the collarbone. it's not fatal, and probably won't need stitches, but it sure looks like he's in a lot of pain. 

"y-your neck is bleeding." you say, eyes wide in a panic, "are-are you, do i need to get you to a hospital?" you rush, heart thumping. the boy shakes his head, though that clearly causes him pain. "my wounds- they'll regenerate quick enough. do you-do you have bandages?" he asks, and you nod aggressively, running a hand through your hair. "yes, let's go to my room." you say, trying to stay as calm as he is. with a lot of effort and sharp cries of pain, you finally make it into your room through the window on the fire escape, gently helping spiderman to your bed. 

you allow yourself ten seconds in your bathroom to gather your breaths and thoughts before taking the first aid kit and rushing back to the bleeding boy, whose name is still a mystery. 

your hands are shaking as you undo the box, and his hands suddenly fall against yours and squeeze. you look to him then, willing for the tears of fear to dry up and go away. "it's okay." he says, and then you feel even more rotten because spiderman is hurt in your bed and you're still making him comfort you. 

"no-i know. you just surprised me, is all." you trail off, pulling your hands from his to pull out antiseptic ointment, cleaning wipes and swabs. "what- um, what happened?" 

"mugging, guy had a knife. i was trying to get the purse from his hands and he slashed me. it's really not-" he coughs a bit, a fresh squeeze of blood seeping into the fabric. "-not bad. honest." 

you shake your head, looking at him. "i have to take off your mask." you say solemnly. "or else it'll get bad. infected, or- heal into the mask." 

he nods lightly, "i know." is all he says. his voices is laced with nerves. 

your hands are still shaky when you reach to pull up the mask. he makes no attempt to move except to shift himself on your bedspread. you slowly peel the mask, eyes focused on the wound and not on the boy's face. but then, you can't help it. when the mask slips off, the boy's eyes are screwed tight. 

but your breath catches in your throat when you take in his face. 

it's richie. 

of course it is. you press your lips together, forcing yourself to focus on his wound and not all the thoughts swirling in your mind. you don’t talk to each other, one out of anger and one out of pain, and he grips your arm, hand warm on your skin.

you can barely focus as you go to work on his wound, but you’re glad that by the time you’re almost finished, your anger has ebbed away and you’re strangely calm. 

you don't meet eyes until you've got his cut cleaned out and you're satisfied it won't get infected. his eyes are nervous, anxious, scared. yours are surprisingly calm, and almost emotionless. 

"hi, doll." he says, eyes no longer screwed shut, neither out of pain nor anxiety over revealing his identity. 

"do your friends know?" is all you ask. he gives you a curt not as you shakily wrap the gauze around the nape of his neck, figuring a bandaid would come right off. his hand falls from your arm as you move it around his head. 

"i had all them, but i wanted to see you." 

his words send warm waves through your body and you bite your lip.

"why didn't you tell me? the other night?" you ask shortly, knowing that fighting won't get you anywhere. 

“look, i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, i really am. but slipping the fact that i developed spider-like superhuman abilities into an ‘are we friends or do we hate each other’ conversation is pretty fuckin' difficult.” he defends. 

you nod, because, after consideration, you think you would have probably done the same. "okay. if your friends know, why didn't you..."  you don't know how to phrase it. 

"why didn't i go to one of them?" he sighs, sitting up as you finish clasping the gauze. he rubs his eyes and you realize you're not used to him without glasses - does he even need those anymore? his eyes are so blue, so warm. his eyelashes are long. 

"i missed you. or, i - i don't know, i just... i needed to show you. to tell you. i was afraid to put you in danger but you deserve to know.” he says, honestly.  

you hum, flicking a piece of rubble from his shoulder and then using that as an excuse to run your hands over the material there, feeling his muscles under your touch. "and you had to get stabbed to work up the courage?" you tease. 

he beams, despite himself. and it's beautiful. 

"how else could i get your attention, doll? i tried everything else." 

you shake your head, huffing a bit. "can't believe you let me kiss you." you bury your face in your hands, feeling hot and embarrassed. "i'm sorry you had to do that." you squeak out, mortified. 

it's quiet, and then, "i would do it again." 

you look at him, from where you sit - both so close, almost touching... his breath almost hits your face. "really?" he looks at you like you've grown three heads. "yes." he deadpans, "obviously. why else could i have been spending so much time with you?" 

you laugh, tilting your head back. "so you only want me for my lips?" you joke even though you're nervous. richie groans, hands tangling in his nest of windswept curls. it's charming and it makes your stomach flutter. 

"y/n, don't make this so hard." he begs. unable to help yourself, you perk up, "that's what she said-" you start, but then richie kisses you for the second time. 

he's nearly crashing into you, lips finding yours desperately through his own smile of disbelief - that you'd said that, or that he's kissing you? you don't care as you kiss back, hands finding purchase on his chest or in his hair. 

then he's regaining his strength as your tongue finds his and he nudges you over, rolling so he lays above you. you pull him between your hips as he bites your lip gently and then moves on to kiss your neck, filling you with heat and butterflies. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner." he whispers into the shell of your ear as he bites a soft mark on your upper throat, and you sigh. "god, it-it's fine-" 

but then it's too late, because your bedroom door flies open.

startled,  you and richie break apart, eyes wide and lips bruised; blood staining his spiderman suit as he lays on top of you, your legs fastened around his hips and your hands tinged with his blood and sweat, both of you breathing wildly. 

your mom stands in front of you, eyes wide and mouth agape in near horror - spiderman in bed with you. "hello, ma'am." richie breathes out and you resist the urge to smother yourself with a pillow. 

"just... keeping your daughter safe, y'know, friendly neighborhood spiderman."

 tag list: @gabiatthedisco  @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​  @sft-core @clownsloveyou​  @moon-shine-baby​  @daughter-of-the-stars11   @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @chl0bee​  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-hargreeves @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy ​

[anaiswriterr]

Black Magic

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story teaches you never ever, ever, place a spell especially an attraction spell or love spell without consent! Please never do this, this shouldn’t be played with unless with full consent, and if you know what you’re doing: obsession, puppy love at first, grows into unwanted attention, possessiveness. 

Authors Note: This is my least favorite fic to write, I’m so sorry to those that were looking forward to it.

Synopsis: “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned her witchy friend. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand suspiciously, she just wanted his attention nothing too serious. “If you doubt it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.”

- black magic - screamtober part five -

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Y/N rests her cheek in her palm, eyes wondering on the boy who sat in front of her in class. If only he’d pay attention to her; she sighs and sits back in her seat. Ignoring his closed dense mind - how could he not see it! Everyone knew! Hell, even Mr. Aizawa knew and she bet all the teachers knew too of her growing feelings towards the angry spiked explosive quirk user.

All except him.

“Idiot.” She mutters beneath her breath continuing on with her notes, why couldn’t he tell? Why couldn’t he just pay attention to her?

***

“Just tell him already!” Mina chimes in, taking her bag of chips out of her bag. “What’s the worst thing he’ll do? Say no? Fine, then you move on!“ Mina crunches on the handful of chips she unconsciously shoved into her mouth, moaning as the nacho cheese flavors erupted in her mouth. Leaving Y/N to roll her eyes in annoyance, “I’m not as close to Bakugou as you are, I just want him to notice me.” Y/N sighs, pulling her phone out from her back pocket in hopes to find a distraction from her over whelming feelings for the temperamental boy.  

Mina chuckles, “Well if you really want his attention why don’t you come over tonight for a sleep over, my aunts in town and she studies witch craft. She could probably help you get his attention.” 

Y/N’s eyes widen in response as she excitedly turned her attention towards her friend, watching Mina intently with a serious gaze. “Please tell me your being serious!” Y/N exclaims. 

“Well yeah, tonight's Halloween so it’ll definitely set the mood.” 

Y/N’s chest swells with hope, the fact that the attention of her crush could quickly be averted towards her. She didn’t need anything special, nothing to fancy, but instead a push towards the right direction. “I’ll see you tonight then!” Y/N exclaims rushing towards her home and unlocking the front gate, “Okay lovely!” Mina grins waving goodbye to her friend for the afternoon. 

With the sun setting and children rushing home to put on their costumes, Y/N’s plan fell into full swing. Already packed her night bag with extra clothes, a brush, tooth brush, and other essentials she rushed to Mina’s house. Dodging the trick or treaters at her front door allowing her mother to pass out candy to the kids. 

“Stay safe, honey!” Her mother called out. 

But luckily for Y/N, Mina was only over three blocks down. 

Clutching onto her backpack and speed walking her way through the side walk, Y/N eventually reaches her friends house and presses the doorbell. 

The door swings open revealing the pink girl in her pajamas, a wicked grin tainted her lips. “Let get this party started!” 

***

Y/N met Mina’s aunt plenty of times, but she never knew that her aunt practiced the craft - though her aunt was still young only in her early twenties and still in college. Menmora nevertheless practiced the craft with caution, reminding Y/N of the consequences that could come from this request. 

“Please! Menmora, I just need something, anything that’ll get his attention!” Y/N begged, nearly on her knees in the living room as Mina ate a slice of pizza. Menmora flipped her pink hair over her shoulder and continued to file her nails. “Y/N I love you, but I don’t know if I should do this for you. It’s dangerous.. the consequences. Sometimes you can’t even break up with the guy. They get super obsessed in some cases. Why don’t you just talk to him, ooo how about buy some new perfume. It’s proven that the scent of vanilla can spike male pheromones into being more attracted-” 

Menmora is interrupted by the puppy eyes Y/N makes, her lips quivering as she pleaded. “You really like this kid don’t you?” Menmora sighs. 

“You have absolutely no idea.” 

“Fine, Mina go get my jars, cinnamon and honey from the cabinet. The paper and pen are in the same one as well, make sure to get the blue, pink, and red ones.” Menmora orders throwing her nail file towards the coffee table, Y/N lets out a small giggle in excitement. 

“It’s a full moon tonight, go get the candles.” She’s told, Y/N pushes herself up from the ground and rushes towards the dining room. Grabbing all the pink and white candles, any that were in her line of sight and rushes back to the living room where Mina had placed all the materials on the now cleaned space. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t know, about this anymore.. what if something goes wrong?” 

Y/N whips her head around, “It might not even work, but it’s definitely worth a try.”   

“Alright then, let light these candles.” 

***

A pink candle slowly melts onto a small jar, the wax drips off the sides, Y/N has no idea what’s going but the flicker of the surrounding lit candles captures her gaze. Suddenly slammed with the feeling of guilt and doubt, who was she kidding. “Bakugou won’t ever see me as one of his equals.. just some dumb extra.” 

She’s pulled back from her thoughts when the jar is thrusted into her face, “Are you sure this.. spell will make him like me? Find me attractive?” Y/N questioned, suddenly suspicious of the “magic jar”. Eyeing the wax melted jar in her hand hoping this would work, she just wanted his attention. “If you doubt in the craft then it won’t work. I promise, this spell is going to make him want you forever.” 

Y/N didn’t need a forever, and perhaps those words manifested itself into existents. It was a silly idea, she thought. How desperate do you have to be, how stupid do you have to be. That weekend, after her sleepover with Mina she had forgotten all about the spell. 

It didn’t matter to anymore, she was just an extra in his story. A background character to his epic hero story.. 

But nonetheless a hero never gives up!

So instead of sulking around all day like she initially planned the day prior, Y/N woke up early that Monday morning, did her hair, took a shower, and sprayed on her best smelling perfume, and packed her UA practice uniform and marched outside the house.

Meeting up with Mina.

“You look extra chirpy today.” Mina grins, fixing her left sock.

“I feel amazing today, I look good, I smell good. I’m absolutely great.” Y/N claims, straightening out her skirt. Mina arches a brow and giggles, “Alright missus feel good, how are you feeling about the spell stuff.”

Y/N shrugs, adjusting the straps of her backpack to loosen over her shoulders. 

“Whatever happens, happens. And besides, is magic even real?” 

“I don’t know, we live in a world where 80% of population has a quirk. Before then nobody ever even thought about having superpowers. I’ve heard witchcraft is real, though.” 

“You’re right about that,” Y/N chuckles, “The world we live in is kinda weird.” 

The two teens laugh, continuing their way down the sidewalk catching the first subway train to UA High hoping to arrive early. 

And of course the two race to the first available seats there were - which weren’t many to begin with anyways. Y/N sat patiently awaiting their stop, rising up to exit when it was finally time to get off. Nearly forgetting to wake Mina’s sleeping form, she shuddered at the memory of Mina chasing her around the neighborhood when she first forgot about her friend. 

She dragged the tired pinkette by the blouse and up the stairs, Y/N groans at the sudden change in lighting, covering her eyes with her right hand. Using her left hand to drag Mina. “Eager to see Bakugou, I see.” Mina teases causing Y/N to simply roll her eyes, “If he’d pay attention to me today.” 

“Well you never know, today might be your lucky day.” 

“I hope.” 

***

“Okay class, today we’re going to be learning..” 

Mr. Aizawa’s words drown out in Y/N’s mind as she continued to stare at the blonde in front of her, admiring his spiky locks and the way he tapped his pencil against his notebook. 

“Y/N are you pay attention?” Mr. Aizawa asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Y-Yes, sorry.” 

Aizawa nods and continues on with his lesson. 

Y/N sighs, grabbing her pencil to take notes, jotting down the common hero do’s and don’t. Something Y/N assumed he put together the night before. 

Her attention is suddenly caught by a small note thrown onto her desk from the boy in front of her, ‘That’s odd Bakugou never passes notes..’

The square note obviously ripped from the spare sheets of paper, she’s hesitant to open the note, terrified of the embarrassment that would come soaring over Y/N if it wasn’t meant for her. But the hard gaze Bakugou sent her way, mouthing out the words, “Open it, damn it.” She quickly fiddles her fingers over the note, scrambling to open it under her desk. 

What’s your quirk?

Her heart is pounding as she quickly writes her quirk on the sheet of paper, passing it towards him. Ignoring the slight pain her heart felt knowing that he didn’t pay attention to her quirks power either. What kinda of question is that?

Weather, why?

He passes another back just as quick.

I don’t know, I saw you in the games the other month. 

So he did notice her, Y/N shakes the thought focusing on the task at hand. He did pay attention to her. 

It’s a meteorology quirk, I can manifest any season and forecast.  

Y/N watches as Bakugou, stares at the square for a while. Nearly impressed with her quirk. He didn’t pass another note back until the end of class when he whipped his head around, and threw another square at her desk.

“That’s a nice quirk.”

They were simple words, four words to be exact. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary yet for Y/N. It was special, and that note sat in her book bag for the rest of week before finding itself a spot on her desk.

Slowly, gradually the two began to speak.

Then later she found herself sitting with his group and Mina during lunch, which later progressed with him tutoring Y/N after school.

Y/N sighed in relief when he began to finally pay attention, showing just slight caring from time to time. She smiled to herself in bed, maybe Mina’s aunt really did help. Nevertheless, she was happy with the attention of her crush. 

Nothing came out of their friendship that year, instead Y/N focused on getting closer to the spiky explosive quirk user. She’d normally watch movies with the group in the afternoons when they all initially first moved into the dorms. 

Sero would casually tease the two from time to time explaining how they looked so much like a couple beside one another. Earning a projectile pillow thrown towards his face from the blonde himself, muttering to himself in the process. 

***

Bakugou asked Y/N out on an official date just before their second year, who she of course said yes too. Though Y/N quickly found out the.. problems dating Katsuki. He was possessive, irrational in some aspects, and over all over bearing. 

But the problem wasn’t Bakugou himself during the relationship.. but as the two grew up Y/N soon realized her crush on Bakugou was just that. 

A crush..

***

Years had passed..

And Y/N and Katsuki had moved in with each other in their early years of being pro heroes. 

Y/N’s chest swells with guilt, and her voice is caught in a worried toned. She picks at her fingers, attempting to put the pieces together in her mind on the best way to break things off with Katsuki. She’s caught pacing her living room area, and his vermilion eyes squint at her shadowy frame.

“What are you doing up so early?” 

His asks in confusion; looking out into the city through their window. Y/N didn’t even noticed she still hasn’t gone to bed, he arches a brow - stepping towards her with his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Something wro-”

“I think we should break up.” 

It’s quiet. 

Almost to quiet. 

And for a second Y/N feels like she can breathe, a word of apologizes filled her brain but she decides against it. She wasn’t sorry, they were both twenty four. The relationship had come to an end, there was no more time to think. 

“Look, Katsuki, I’m so sorry but we can’t keep going. Thank you for being so amazing to me throughout the years, and being all my firsts-” 

“We’re not breaking up.” 

“W-What?”

“I said, we are not breaking up.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. His large strides make it towards her trembling frame. “Katsuki..” 

He reaches out towards her, roughly grabbing her but the chin and pulling her in close. Causing Y/N to squeal as she’s tugged towards him. 

“You’re not leaving me..” He clenches his teeth, “You’re not leaving this house, and if you do decide to leave..”

Y/N’s blood grows cold, somewhere in his eyes those red fiery orbs flare in anger, something Y/N doesn’t recognize but she suddenly remembers that night on Halloween when she was just sixteen.

“They become super obsessed..” 

“Sometimes you can’t even break up with them..” 

A mistake.. she made.. she realizes there is no turning back.. she’s stuck with him forever.

“I’ll go everywhere you go..” 

TAGLIST:  @pavlovs-titties​​ @explosivefireworks​​ @utopiamiroh​​ @hikaru-mikazuki​​ @strangethingsatthecirclek​​ @myheroesaretired​​ @clever-username96​  dumbthingsuwusblog

Next: Todoroki x Reader - Tonight, you belong to me 

[dreamerhideout]

i love you so

summary: after recovering from a messy break-up with your high school sweetheart, you’d never expect to find happiness in someone who bumped into you on the subway. but that’s where jake sim comes in.

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, office!au

characters: jake x reader, mentions of ex-boyfriend!jay

warnings: partially proofread, but besides that, none

word count: 1946

a/n: this was supposed to be an entry for the “and then we met” @enhypenwriters writing event, but i think i lost the muse for this a bit too fast (plus, school swamped me again.) i literally wanted to base it off this song by the walters until it dawned on me that it was a heartbreak song :/ hence i made a few adjustments. i’m not quite sure if i’m fully satisfied with how this turned out, but i hope you still enjoy it~

more under the cut!

your heels clicked on the platform as you weaved your way through the crowd of people. it was a bustling monday morning, and waking up half an hour late was not how you expected to start your week. bingeing on this one political-drama show the night before began to feel like a regrettable choice, but there was no time to dwell on that when you see your train pulling up at the platform.

“oh damn, i’m so sorry.”

maybe it was because of how distracted you were from your surroundings that you hadn’t realized that someone bumped into you. as a result, you barely noticed that your coat had gotten stained from the coffee in their cup.

you gave them an apologetic smile, too rushed to get pissed. “no worries.” pausing for a second, you registered the culprit to be a man with a head of chocolate-brown hair and slightly frantic eyes before jogging towards the open subway cart door. once you got on the nearly-stuffed train, your eyes peered down towards your coat. sighing, you swiped at your coffee-stained coat with your finger; perhaps you’d be able to get it cleaned at the office later on if you weren’t getting your ear chewed off by your manager.

-

“we have a new employee joining us today.”

exiting the bathroom door with a slightly-scrubbed coat in hand, you heard your manager call out, then the chatter in the room subsiding. she was standing beside a man that you wouldn’t have vaguely remembered seeing before if it weren’t for the small smile he gave you.

“hi everyone, i’m jake sim. i’ll be working under the research department starting today. it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

you recognized that voice a little too well, then glancing at your dampened coat. who knew that the man you hastily bumped into this morning would be working at your office?

“jake will be occupying the desk next to (y/n)’s, and he’ll also be under my supervision as he’s still on trial for the next two weeks.” almost instantly, your manager turned towards you, who was still standing in front of the bathroom door.

“oh, yes,” you replied, eyes widening slightly. you went towards your cubicle and motioned to the empty desk beside you for jake to put his things, “over here.”

he walked over and placed a box filled with his belongings on top of the table, then unpacking. “well, i never thought i’d see you here,” he chuckled, “really sorry for what happened earlier, by the way.”

“eh, it’s no big deal.” you draped your coat over your chair for it to dry, “i managed to scrub off most of the stain, so it should be fine.”

“are you sure it isn’t ruined?” he turned to face you, slightly quirking an eyebrow.

you grinned in response, “positive."

jake had placed some stationery into a pencil holder before extending out a hand towards you. “i know i’ve introduced myself earlier.” he smiled rather awkwardly, “but for the sake of us being desk-mates, i’ll do it again. i’m jake.”

your hand met his for a quick shake, a knowing smile on your face. “(y/n). nice to meet you.”

-

if you were sure about one thing, it’d be that time flies by when you’re drowning in deadlines. the sun had already disappeared, yet you still sat hunched over your laptop, fingers typing away at a report due tomorrow assigned a few hours ago. you would have argued with your manager on the matter, but the glare she gave you as you were about to open your mouth was enough to make you shrink back into your seat.

out of habit, you grabbed your phone and unlocked it, expecting to see a message notification from jay, your boyfriend, who’d usually come to pick you up from work. when you didn’t receive one, however, it only dawned on you once again that you weren’t even with him anymore. he was the reason why your routine for the past few months had been working and binge-watching on repeat, with the occasional cry session if you were feeling really out of it. moving on after said breakup had been difficult, especially when it involved the very person who vowed to marry you on the day of your high school graduation.

“working overtime?”

you peered up from your head in your hands to see jake. he had pushed his chair back and was looking at you past the divider. it was way past office hours and you swore that you heard the last of your coworkers’ chatter out the door a few hours ago, but you must have been mistaken.

“yeah.” you gave him a grim smile, “some stupid report i was told to do today.”

“ouch,” he winced, closing his laptop. jake then studied your expression, picking up on how exhausted you looked. “tell you what.” he stood up and began slipping items into his backpack, “what if we went home together? maybe i could grab you something on the way back to make up for earlier.”

you looked up from your screen to see a cheeky smile on his lips. the offer did seem tempting, but you were ways away from actually completing the report. “oh that really isn’t necessary...” you threw him a small smile as you waved a hand rather dismissively, “i might be here for a long while, and i wouldn’t want to hold you back from going home.”

“i insist, (y/n).” jake zipped up his backpack after tossing in a file, “i wouldn’t mind waiting since i have nothing due tomorrow.” he then propped an elbow up on the divider, leaning on it as he carefully took note of the obvious strain on your eyes as well as how you had a slight pout on your lips when you were focused, “and besides... you kinda look like you could use some company.”

a small hum was heard from your mouth until you finally sighed in defeat; he definitely wasn’t wrong about company. “if you say so, then.” you stretched your arms, turning away from your screen, “maybe having you around will make me work faster?”

“how so?”

“you know how sometimes kids won’t work on their homework unless there’s an adult cowering over them like a hawk? yeah, that.” 

jake brought a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, which ended in him snorting instead. you could feel a smile creep up your lips.

-

the trip home was the most fun you’ve had in months. it didn’t occur to you that jake would be such an avid chatterbox, but you were sorely mistaken. he always had a conversation topic up his sleeve, whether it was about daily adult struggles to his childhood back in australia. you also noticed how he absolutely could not shut up about his beloved dog, layla; it’s a wonder how he had an entire album filled with hundreds of her pictures on his phone. slowly but surely, you also began juggling the conversation; it was as if you had reverted to your bright, happy self pre-breakup. talking with him really felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend, and it was only a matter of minutes until you had reached your apartment's front door.

jake had wanted to use your bathroom for a bit, but it ended with you suggesting for him to stay for dinner which consisted of microwaved pizza and sweet tea. you placed the pizza on the coffee table in front of the tv, then starting up the series you were bingeing on the other night.

“is that designated survivor?” jake sat on your sofa before grabbing a slice of pizza from the plate.

“mhm,” you replied, mouth stuffed. swallowing first, you then replied to him, “the synopsis made me curious.”

your remark was met with silence as you saw jake’s gazed fixed intently upon the screen. it wouldn’t have occurred to you that you’d be having a coworker (who was insanely attractive, nonetheless) over for dinner, but it didn’t bother you at all when jake made offhand comments about the characters and scenes of the series. it also occurred to you quite late that you hadn’t gotten napkins out for the both of you.

“hold on, lemme grab something.” you stood up and went towards your cabinets in search for napkins. jake’s attention broke from the screen to follow your figure before his gaze momentarily landed on a photo frame by the side of your sofa. it was a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, with his arm wrapped around you as you both smiled brightly for the camera.

“i didn’t know you had a boyfriend?” the man teased as he saw you walk back towards him, napkins in hand. your expression dropped when you realized that throughout the time you’ve been trying to mend your broken heart, you had forgotten to put away that photo.

“we broke up.”

guilt flashed across jake’s face as he realized he had overstepped. “oh wow, i’m sorry... i shouldn’t have brought that up.”

“it’s fine. i guess i must’ve forgotten to put that away.” you smiled at him and placed the napkins on the table before flipping the frame down. taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to focus on the show playing in front of you; you could feel bits of dread wallow in the bottom of your stomach.

there was a moment of awkward pause as neither of you knew what to say. just as you were about to ask jake to leave since you could feel dread clawing at your insides, he suddenly spoke up, “you’re... really strong, though.”

turning to face him, you stared at him quizzically, “really?”

“yeah.” jake could feel your eyes on him, “i mean, if it weren’t for me finding out, i would’ve never guessed that you were going through that.” he grabbed another piece of pizza before meeting your gaze, “you’re a great person, (y/n). i think you should know that. and if you’d need someone to talk to about him... although i don’t really know the guy, i’m all ears.”

the way he gave you a soft smile at the end made your heart slightly flutter. maybe it was because there was this very charming man consoling you on your last breakup, but it was more on the fact that you knew someone had your back in your times of healing. “thanks, jake.” you smiled back, feeling your heart lighten. “i appreciate it. a lot.”

jake felt his heart flip at the sight of your smile. it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen you smile the entire day; it was a different kind as he could see some weight visibly lifted from you. you were pretty cute when you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the sides when you did, and he wondered how he hadn’t realized that sooner.

“uh... jake?” you waved a hand in front of his face to break him away from his stare. he quickly snapped out of his reverie, ears tinting a shade of pink.

“oh, yeah, sorry about that...” he murmured nervously, scratching the back of his head, “guess i got a bit distracted there?”

“i noticed.” you giggled in response, turning your attention back towards the tv. you saw how he stared at you after you spoke, eyes lost in a dream-like trance, and you felt your heart go fuzzy.

perhaps you were still healing, and you might need a little more time before jumping into something new. but rest assured, you knew that jake would be waiting on the other side no matter what.

[mggssocks]

Followed- part 2

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: regular criminal minds stuff. (please let me know if i missed anything!)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 2.2k +

A/N: Thank you so much for the love i have received on my last chapter!!! It means so much to me. Also i’m going to try to update chapters as much as i can but i’m graduating in a few weeks and i will have a lot going on. But again, thank you guys!!! xoxo

masterlist // part 1

Although he was only going off of a few hours of sleep, Spencer came to work with a pep in his step today. His interaction with this girl was very brief but he still got butterflies with the thought. He was early as usual so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk, settling in. He pulled out his phone and reread the text messages that the two of you shared. When he finished reading the short message thread, his thumb hovered over the letter G. He wanted to type “good morning” but he didn’t want to come off as too clingy or overbearing. That in fact was the last thing he wanted. 

“Hey Spence” he hears from behind him, causing him to jump and quickly lock his phone before shoving it into his coat pocket. 

“Hi” he turns around to see JJ and forms his mouth into a straight line. 

She eyes him weirdly. Something was up.

“Everything okay?” She asked. Knowing how Spencer was, she wasn’t expecting him to answer truthfully. Especially with him jumping startledly like he just did at a simple ‘hi’.

“No- yeah. Yeah I’m fine. What about you? Are you okay?” He asked to switch the conversation around. 

Yeah. Something was definitely up.

“I’m… fine?” She answers confused

He nods awkwardly. She was just about to ask him if he was sure that he was fine but everyone else started to walk in and she knew if he was being this secretive with her, he definitely wouldn’t want everyone else to be in his business. So she drops it… at least for now. 

Garcia speed walked into the bullpen with a file or two in her hand, not bothering to say anything to the team. She goes straight to the conference room.

“Looks like we have a case” Morgan declared as he walked past the desks and up the stairs. Everyone else followed.

“And from the looks of it, it’s bad,” says Emily. 

They settle in their seats as Garcia passes Spencer his case file while everyone else gets on their tablets.

“We’re going to Wichita, Kansas.” Hotch says as he was the last one to come into the conference room.

“This sicko stabs straight through the heart. They chop off as much hair as they can before shoving it in the victim’s mouths.” Garcia speaks, a little disturbed a little while avoiding her gaze from the screen.

“Four victims within one week. There’s no cooling off period at all” Morgan said, swiping through his tablet.

“Which is why we’re debriefing on the jet. Wheels up.”

——————

After the team debriefed on the jet, Garcia chimed in through the video chat.“Guys, A store owner just found another victim.” 

The team looks at one another. Hotch sighs momentarily before speaking.

“Alright, JJ, you and Reid to the M.E. Morgan and Rossi go to the latest crime scene and Prentiss and I will go and set up at the station.” 

Everyone nods their head at their temporary partners for confirmation.

————

“So on the first victim, the person hesitated.” The examiner spoke factually.

“-And on the other four he didn’t hesitate at all” spoke JJ, trying to get the bigger picture. 

“Exactly. Now with the new victim… I noticed something strange. “ She walked over to the newest victim from earlier that day and the agent and dr followed her.

She turned the woman’s head and revealed a cat-like scratch with three of them synchronized.

JJ and Spencer looked at each other. After they called the other team members to fill them in, they walked to the car in pure silence.

“So… this morning” says JJ, walking to the driver’s side.

Spencer gives her a questioning look as he takes the passenger seat.

“What about this morning?” He asked in a suspicious tone and avoided her gaze by looking out of the window.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Spence, but I know something’s going on. Just tell me that it’s nothing bad.” She put her seatbelt on.

Spencer didn’t dare to give in “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

——————- 

After three days, they finally caught the unsub. The man was purely a sick and twisted psychopath. Jeffery Magnum. A 30 year old man who was severely abused as a child. His mother would make him eat the cat’s fur balls for dinner and when he refused, she would shave him bald. His mother died and that was the stressor that made him begin to kill.

As they boarded the plane, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ sat together in the four seats. Rossi and Hotch sat together in the seats across from each other behind them. Spencer sat on the couch, far away from everyone. He wasn’t trying to distance himself. He just wanted to sit alone.

He pulled his phone out. He hasn’t thought much about that girl since he’s obviously been busy but now he was thinking about her. When he opened the app, he saw that she had posted a story. Before he watched her story, he clicked on her account and scrolled a little. She posted a lot of books and her cat too. Spencer really liked this one in particular.

26 likes

Yourinstagram I looked up from my book and seen this. thought it was a great photo op. 

View all 11 comments

He comes across a picture that really catches his attention.

11 likes

Yourinstagram okay just finished these two Jung books. He’s officially my favorite psychology/ prolific author. Freud’s got nothing on this guy.

View 1 comment

Spencer nodded his head approvingly. He swiped back to look at her Instagram story. 

He swiped up, thinking of a way to start a conversation. He just wanted to talk. About what? He doesn’t know.

spencerreid what’s tomorrow?

As expected, she didn’t respond right away. Instead of waiting for a response, Spencer picks up a book to occupy his attention. About 15 minutes later, his phone vibrates and an Instagram notification pops up. It catches the attention of JJ and she looks from the corner of her eye.

Spencer let’s 3 minutes pass by before responding because he didn’t want to seem too eager to talk to her. Although he definitely was.

yourinstagram nothing special! I’m a pastry chef so I’m just preparing them for the week! 

spencerreid Do you have some sort of bakery?

yourinstagram yup :)

Spencer didn’t know what to text back. So he started a new conversation with her.

spencerreid By the way I was looking at your page and seen that you read Carl Jung books.

yourinstagram you were stalking my page??

He started to panic. He didn’t mean it like a weirdo.

spencerreid I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to see what you were about, I guess.

yourinstagram relax haha I was kidding. And yes I do like Carl Jung books. What about you? Jung or Freud?

spencerreid I’m a fan of both, though I feel as if Jung was more open minded.

yourinstagram you, my friend, have great taste.

Although he knew “my friend” was just a term, Spencer couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face. 

JJ notices and nudges Morgan who was listening to music. Prentiss notices JJ’s act and she gives her a questioning look. JJ nods her head towards Reid who was smiling at his phone. Emily who was sitting next to the window across from Morgan leaned over the seat to get a peek at Spencer.

She looks back to JJ. “What?”

“He’s been acting weird since before we left for this case. Like… secretive.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow. “You think he’s got something going on?” 

JJ shrugs.

“Hey” Emily says to Spencer.

He doesn’t necessarily jump but he was obviously startled. 

“What are you smiling about?” She asked. JJ and Derek watched as he fumbled over his words.

“I- uh-just- just a joke” Spencer cringed internally, because not even he, himself was buying it.

“What’s the joke?” Derek asked.

“It’s… nothing you would find amusing.” 

The three pretended to believe him and gave each other subtle glances before continuing what they were doing. Spencer turned back to his phone.

yourinstagram I’m y/n by the way. Just thought I’d formally introduce myself.

spencerreid I’m Spencer.

yourinstagram It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.

spencerreid It’s nice to meet you as well, Y/N.

After the jet landed, it was only 3:00 in the afternoon. Hotch gave them the rest of the day off so Spencer decided to head home and catch up on some sleep that he’s missed these past few days. 

He knew that it’d be terrible traffic on his way home. But since he stupidly decided to drive to work a few days ago, he couldn’t take the subway. He had to drive home. After about 10 minutes of sitting in his car calculating the fastest route home during traffic hours, he decides to take a way that he’s never taken before.

It would take him about thirty minutes but on his normal route during traffic hours, it would take him an hour and twenty. 

While driving, he catches a glimpse of a bakery and his stomach automatically growls. He decided that he’d stop by. Spencer walked into the shop and it wasn’t very busy. He looked over all of the options while waiting for someone to come to the counter.

A girl soon trails around dusting her hands off on her yellow apron. Her hair tied back in a ponytail.

“Hi. How can I help you?” She gives a kind smile.

“Uh- can I have two of the Danish pastries And a water?” He asked.

“Of course! Will that be all?” She puts some clear gloves on and makes her way over to the pastries.

“Yes” Spencer answers, digging through his satchel for his wallet.

She puts the treats in an apricot colored box, closed with a sticker with the name of the bakery. 

She puts the order in and looks back up at him “That’ll be $5.37!” 

He’s finally able to get a feel for his wallet and pulls out his card, handing it to her. She swipes it and hands it back over to him after it was approved along with his box and a reusable water bottle. He murmurs a thank you before leaving and heading to his apartment, enjoying the delicious danishes and finishing up some case files.

*******

“Seriously, Y/n. There’s so many relationship opportunities in Virginia. And you’re thinking about someone from a social media platform. You’ve never even seen them.” Your older sister lectures you as you close up the shop.

“Woah woah woah. I never said anything about a relationship with him. He’s nice but I’m not going to date someone over the internet. For all I know, he could be from England. I just said we both have an understandable love for Carl Jung in common.” You explained.

“Mom is worried about you. You’re thirty and you haven’t even found someone you’re interested in.” She lifts her eyebrow.

“She doesn’t need to worry about me. And every single woman doesn’t need to get married and settle down in their thirties.” you argue back

“She wants grandchildren, y/n. And not just from one of her kids.” 

“Look. I’m fine. You guys need to stop with the pressuring. I’m happy and I have all that I can ask for right now. When that time comes then it comes but for right now, i’m content” You shrug as you lock up all of the treats in the display cases.

She gives up the argument. And there is a weight of silence that fell between the two of you.

“Alright. Dave and the kids are expecting me so I'm going to get some pizza and head home.” she says, breaking the silence.

“Okay. Love you. Be safe. Bye” you say to her. 

After locking up the shop, you head home and when you open your door, you are greeted by your cat, Luna. After locking the door, you kneel down to properly greet your baby.

“Hey, girl” you pick her up and make your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what options you had to eat for dinner.

You decided on some grilled cheese and tomato soup so that’s what you made.

*****

You throw the crust down on your plate, flipping the page of the book you were almost done with. You were curled up on the side of the couch with Luna sleeping by your feet. After finishing the last page, you were bored enough to go onto twitter and then instagram. 

As you make your way to his dm, you bite your lip, hesitant to say something. You didn’t often speak to people through social media. But he’s already texted first so the least you can do is text something first this time. You were uncertain, but you did it anyway.

yourinstagram hey

You mentally smack yourself as you look at the time. He’s probably already slee-

spencerreid Hi.

yourinstagram i was thinking….

spencerreid About?

yourinstagram I told you what i do for a living. I figured it’s only right that you told me what you do..

spencerreid I’m in the FBI. I’m a profiler.

yourinstagram that’s pretty impressive.

You didn’t know it but Spencer was blushing.

spencerreid Thank you.

yourinstagram you’re based in D.C right?

spencerreid That would be correct.

yourinstagram That’s funny.

spencereid Why is it funny?

yourinstagram because I live in D.C too.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3997 Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death/loss

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 1 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

A soft knock at pulls you away from the computer. Twisting your stiff head towards the door you smile, seeing Steve Rogers standing with a tray of coffee and a paper bag in hand marked with the logo of your favorite nearby restaurant.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you chuckled, though you meant every word as you invited Steve to sit at your desk for lunch.

Steve worked security for Stark Industries and you developed a close friendship in the years since you’ve been there. Though he was undeniably good looking, with the build of a Greek God and long lashes you were incredibly jealous of, you never saw Steve as anything other than the brother you never had.

At the time you met he was dating a girl from the building, Lillian Nguyen from accounting. You hadn’t seen much of her in person, just through the photos Steve showed you with adoration on his phone. When he began talking about looking for engagement rings you were thrilled but that excitement was replaced with anger and confusion when Steve found out Lillian was cheating on him.

He was extremely hurt and became guarded afterwards, not wanting to put himself out there again. His lack of socializing worked with your lack of a social life and on the rare occasion you had a moment free from school work Steve would often come over and hang out to binge watch shows you needed to catch up to on Netflix while you ate pizza.

The paper bag rustled as he pulled out a large sandwich, cup of soup and a salad, distributing napkins across the desk as he knows how much of a messy eater you can be. You grabbed the sandwich, tearing open the paper wrapping and sinking your teeth into it with a bite full of food too large for your mouth.

Steve laughed, as he stirred the broth of his soup. He’s witnessed you eating before, unapologetically shoveling food into your face especially when you were starving.

“You know the sandwich isn’t goin’ anywhere, right?” he joked.

Chewing a large mouthful, you grabbed a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips that you felt had a piece of food sticking to it.

“Steve,” you paused to take a sip of coffee, “I’m fucking starving. I ran out this morning and all I had here was a package of almonds that are not filling despite what you say.”

He asked the reason for your tardiness and you explained how you stayed at the cafe until closing to finish up your work, all because of your stupid neighbor.

“Have you tried talkin’ to him?”

You stared at Steve incredulously. “Haven’t gotten a chance. I gotta wait for the right moment. There’s no way I’m knocking on his door, not when he’s banging all of New York, who knows what I’d end up seeing.”

“D’ya want me to do it?”

It was in Steve’s nature to help and though you appreciated his offer you wanted to handle this yourself. You were the one that had to live next to the Music Man, it would be better to confront him alone.

“I understand,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “You down to hang tonight?”

“Wish I could but before my time is sucked away by the next paper I really need to research where I could do my internship. I’m all registered for school but I need to submit the paperwork for where I’ll be doing my hours and I’m running out of time.”

“You should talk to my buddy Sam. Maybe he could get you in at the hospital.”

Sam was Steve’s friend from the gym. They’d work out together, turning everything into a friendly competition to see who could run faster or lift more. Sam was also a doctor in the emergency department of Metro-General so he might have connections. It was worth a shot so you asked Steve to text him. Still you planned on searching for more backups to be safe.

Before the hour was over Steve left to head back downstairs to the security desk and you continued your work for Ms. Hill. You had evolved to working closer with Ms. Hill, becoming more like an executive assistant to her and when necessary Ms. Potts.

In between coordinating a meeting your phone goes off with a text from Wanda, asking if she could see you over the weekend for brunch. Ironically, she ended up moving to the city after all. There was only so far she could go with her degree at home and with her mother’s blessing she came to New York to work for The Jewish Museum.

She lived in a trendy loft on Bleecker Street, decorated with her signature eclectic style. Woven rugs hung like tapestries on the wall, plants hanging down from macramé holders in front of the large windows. Her furniture was an odd mix of plush velvet tufted cushions and smooth leather arm chairs that somehow worked with the mid-century touches and industrial shelving.

Her apartment had more space which you envied, although you loved everything else about where you lived. The neighborhood was amazing, with great shops and a lot of different food options right at your doorstep. Everything was perfect, except your neighbor.

Responding to Wanda you let her know you could most likely make it depending on the workload you’d be getting from your Saturday class. You could not wait until that was over. Spending all day in a small, windowless room instead of enjoying the summer weekend made you miserable but you were close to the end, so, so close.

When the work day was over you went to meet Steve downstairs, walking over to the desk to say goodnight to the elderly security guard who’s been with the company since its inception.

“Any plans for the weekend Mr. Lee?”

The wiry white hairs that made up his mustache moved as he grinned. “Well, Joanie thinks my hair’s getting a bit long,” he smiled, running his fingers through his greyish-white strands. “She’ll have it trimmed before supper, I'm sure,” he laughed.

A smile graced your face whenever you listened to Mr. Lee, admiring the adoration he had for his wife. Steve has heard all of his stories more than once but he never tires of them either. Everyone loved Mr. Lee, especially Tony Stark, who continued to pay him a full time salary for the part time hours he worked.

The job was easy enough as he greeted visitors to Stark Industries, and signing them in to the building while Steve and some other employees did most of the security checks.

You and Steve bid Mr. Lee goodbye as you made your way to the subway. Steve didn’t live far from you and though he could have gotten off at a further stop he always walked with you to your building, partially to make sure you got home safely but also because he needed a distraction to get out of his head.

There were many times when you suggested he go out, not with the purpose of meeting someone but just to break up the monotony of his routine, but Steve lost his confidence after the breakup. For now, he didn’t want to be told what to do, he simply needed a friend and so you were there for him.

Wanda sat back against the chair beside the bistro table covered in shade. Her always changing hair color was light brown today, parting the silky strands perfectly down the middle. She was the definition of cool, despite the heat, wearing a loose scoop-necked tank top, slim ripped jeans and topped things off with a pair of motorcycle boots. Her neck was adorned with a few necklaces of varying lengths, one of which she never took off, a silver lightning bolt in honor of her late brother.

She and Pietro were twins with distinctly different personalities. Wanda was laid back, even as a child. She would actually stop to smell the roses that lined the garden of their backyard, whereas Pietro was always moving. He was an extraordinary multitasker that could not sit still.

Pietro had so many dreams, a full list of things he wanted to do in life but he was taken from the world too soon. Wanda wears the necklace as a reminder to live life to the fullest, knowing how quickly things can change.

Squeezing through the other tables to get to Wanda, you huff as you sit down and catch your breath, apologizing for being late.

“Wanda, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“The fucking Music Man! I had to leave my own damn apartment again because of his stupid playing. Like, dude, could you not? You live in an apartment. Everyone hears you, everyone!”

Grabbing the glass of ice water you quickly drink most of it to soothe the dehydration of your mouth.

“And another thing, like does he not realize that we can all hear the girls he’s banging? Wanda, they’re so fucking loud. If they were still there right now I bet you could hear them from here.”

Wanda laughed at your accusation. “Oh, so they don’t stay the night? He’s a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kinda guy?”

“I guess! I hear them leave, whining at his door as they’re begging to stay over. It’s so pathetic. What’s so great about this guy anyway?” you scoffed. “I wish he never moved here!”  

With a final humph you opened the menu, your anger dissipating as you read the descriptions for everything you wanted, mouth salivating as you tried to decide what to choose. Wanda opted for the frittata while you decided to take out your frustrations on yourself with delicious Challah French Toast.

Wanda’s eyes widened as she watched you drown your meal in syrup. You hummed in satisfaction as you took a bite.

“Hmm, it’s not as good as the kind your mom makes,” you said.

Wanda laughed, “Uh, yeah, because she never used a whole bottle of syrup. Geez Y/N can you taste anything other than sugar?”

“Shush Wan, let me enjoy myself here.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you. “Well, anyway, I wanted to tell you something exciting...” she sang, grinning widely. “Director Coulson asked me to curate an exhibit on prejudice told through Romani-Jewish art!”

“Wanda this is perfect! I’m so happy for you!” you beamed, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around her in a proud hug.

“I know! I’m so excited. Mom’s gonna come up for the opening. I mean that’s a long time from now but fuck, I can’t wait!”

After finishing brunch you went back home to begin working on your final. It was a research paper that was worth half of your grade so you really needed to concentrate. And yet the moment the elevator doors opened to your floor you heard it, the sound of music flooding the halls coming from none other than the apartment next to yours.

Jamming your keys into the door with frustration you grunted, grabbing all the things you needed to do your work at the cafe. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the elevator again. With your arms crossed over your chest you could feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, beating to the stupid rhythm of the stupid song that your stupid, inconsiderate neighbor wouldn’t stop playing.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened and you were like a bull, grunting and blowing puffs of air from your flaring nostrils as you were ready to charge into it. As the doors opened you stopped yourself from barreling into your neighbors that were inside.

“Whoa, Y/N!” Clint said, raising his hands up defensively, “Easy there.”

Clint lived on the floor above you along with his fiancée Natasha, whose arms were looped through his.

“Sorry guys,” you apologized. “Oh, wait.” Making your right hand into a fist you ran it across your chest in a few circular motions.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Natasha chimed in, signing her words along as she spoke to you.

Clint was partially deaf and though he used hearing aids he often signed, especially when he didn’t feel like talking to people, although you were one of the lucky ones he considered a friend. Still, you wanted to be able to communicate with him, even if he didn’t want to actually speak.

Clint was a history teacher who already tried to get you into his school for your internship but doubted you would be brought on board. There were apparently a lot of issues going on with the principal and Natasha surmised there was a big lawsuit in the works.

Natasha was an attorney, hoping to make partner at her current firm Nelson & Murdock. Clint never failed to praise her, nicknaming Natasha the Black Widow as he claimed watching her dismantle a witness was like watching a spider sink its venomous fangs into its prey.

“Where’re you guys off to?” you asked.

“Just going out for some ice cream,” she replied.

Clint laughed. “Some ice cream? No, I’m going out to eat a lot of ice cream,” he chuckled, rubbing his eager stomach.

Natasha poked the small protrusion of his belly through his shirt. “Listen buddy, we’ve got a wedding to plan. Easy on the ice cream.” Natasha brought her full lips to his for a kiss they both smiled through, knowing she was teasing him.

“What about you Y/N?” Clint asked.

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with them, explaining how frustrating it’s been that you’ve had to leave for the cafe to do your work all because of the new neighbor.

“Oh the Guitar Hero?” Clint joked. “Yeah, we can hear him too. Well, actually…” he drifted off smirking.

“Clint takes his hearing aids out so no, he doesn’t hear him,” Natasha filled in the information that had you bursting out with laughter.

“Can you hear the women too?” you wondered, considering their apartment was right above his.

“Yeah, kind of, that’s more muffled though. It’s probably a lot worse for you.” Natasha grimaced, catching the way she didn’t mean the words to come out.

It was true though, sharing a wall with the man that made your string lights bounce with every thrust. The sound was bad enough and thankfully your headphones helped with that but every night you had to shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep before he was through with them.

You had to give it to the guy though, the man had stamina. Still, you wanted to kill him. At least you were friends with a lawyer...

The next few days have the same result, with you coming home dead tired from work, hoping you’d be able to stay home to work on your final to no avail. You tried using the headphones in your apartment but it didn’t help. The sound was mostly blocked out but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the anger you held towards the neighbor, knowing he was playing that same song over and over again.

You might as well live in the cafe since you’ve practically paid them your rent in coffee and pastries over the last month. You were burning out quickly and Steve decided you needed a break, bringing over pizza and beer.

Opening up the box, you smiled, staring at the bubbling cheese.

“Ahh, pizza, my one true love,” you said, plating slices for you and Steve.

Your small table was always covered in textbooks, mail and other paperwork you needed to tend to, so you and Steve took your usual spots on the couch.

After working at Stark Industries for a few months you made enough money that allowed you to finally buy much needed furniture. You adored your light grey couch, adorned with blush colored throw pillows. You threw the fuzzy white blanket over the side of the couch, not serving much purpose during the summer months other than to look like it was naturally left on the cushion in a perfectly styled manner for display.

Pushing aside the candlesticks that sat on your coffee table, you set down actual coasters for the bottles Steve opened, not wanting to ruin the veneer of the grey wood top of your rustic coffee table. A small accent rug helped define the space you declared as the living room, despite having your bed within arm’s reach beside you.

Against the brick wall is your TV, sitting atop a modern white stand with shelves for storage you’ve packed to the brim. Beside it, a large antique floor mirror leans against the brick. It was as tall as Steve who helped bring it to your apartment after you found it at a flea market. However, the thing you cherished most was the artwork of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung above your couch, painted by Steve as a gift to you.

“So,” he said, chewing quickly to swallow the food in his mouth. “I talked to Sam. He said it would be cool for you to call him about the internship.”

“Oh yeah. You really think he could help or is this just a rouse to give him my number?” you half-joked.

Steve laughed deeply, wiping away a bit of oil the pizza leaked onto his chin. “Nah, it’s definitely about the internship but I wouldn’t put it past Sam if he tried to take you out. Lord knows he’s been on my case about it with you since I met ‘im.”

“Does he not think guys and girls can have a friendship without romance involved?”

“I can’t speak for him… probably not though.”

You laughed before getting up for another slice. You hoped Sam would be able to help with the internship, no strings attached. He didn’t seem like that type of guy anyway, and all of Steve’s friends were good people so you weren’t worried.

As the Music Man began his one man band you had to gradually increase the volume of your television; your anger rising with every click of the remote. It was no longer enjoyable to watch the action movie you and Steve put on, having to raise the volume for higher to hear the dialogue and scramble to lower the blasting noise of car screeching and explosions. When you couldn’t take it anymore you called it a night.

“Guess you haven’t spoken to him?” Steve asked the question he clearly knew the answer to.

“Soon,” you said hopefully, not knowing when the day might come.

As the sun began to rise on the early Saturday morning you were getting ready for class. With your closet open you debated on what to wear when you heard a voice from the other side of the wall.

“Hi ma… Things are good… and Dad…”

He must have been walking around the apartment as you heard most of the words.

“I know…Leaving now…”

You heard the undoing of his locks and the front door creaking open. Shit! Your first moment to speak to the Music Man alone and you’re standing in your underwear. There’s definitely no way you would approach him now. Instead you raced to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what he looked like but it was too late.

Huffing in frustration you continued to get dressed and within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave. The elevator dinged as you shut your door, inserting your key to turn the deadbolt, unaware of the form that was moving closer towards you, not until you heard the whistling of a familiar tune.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, as if that tune was part of a psychological experiment, like Pavlov’s dog but instead of salivating you wanted to punch something.

“Hey neighbor.”

The soft voice of the Music Man broke you from your vision of punching through your shared wall and destroying his instruments. With a calming inhale you turned around to face him.

“I’m Bucky.”

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs as you stared directly into the kindest, bluest eyes you had ever seen. All the anger left your body, replaced by the softness of his pink lips that reminded you of flowers in full bloom.

He was tall and lean, but your eyes did not miss the bulge of his biceps that showed through his cotton t-shirt. In his hand was a coffee cup, gripped under his long fingers. His hair was dark and pulled back into a low sloppy bun, with a loose piece falling beside his smile.

His hand was extended towards you and you weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like you were staring at him for hours, or was it only seconds. Did time really stop moving the moment you finally saw him? You broke yourself out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I just moved in. Well not just, but not long ago,” Bucky said.

Yeah I know. I hear you every night. You remembered your frustration and tried to assemble the sentence in your head of how to confront him.

“You ever get coffee from the place on the corner?” he asked, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “The line was crazy long but worth it, it’s delicious.”

“Yeah, once or twice but I’m usually at the Grind House. They’re open late and that’s where I have to go to study because… uh…” you stammered for a moment, “...your guitar playing is too distracting.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering why you felt uncomfortable when he was the one who was being a bad neighbor.

Bucky’s face dropped with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s alright,” you lied, not knowing why you said that. Pulling more confidence out of midair you continued, “It’s just that the walls are so thin and I’m in school, well I work full time too, but I’ve just got a lot on my plate and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can afford the coffee shop every night.”

You chuckled to lighten up the conversation, continuing to ramble before giving him a chance to speak. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could practice during the day instead or weekends are mostly fine. I’m actually heading to class now so I’ll be gone all day.” Great, give him your whole schedule why don’t you.

With nerves getting the better of you, you turned on your heel quickly saying it was nice to meet him. Briskly making your way towards the elevator you pressed the button furiously in hopes it would get to your floor faster.

Once inside you let out a big sigh and waved your hand in front of your slightly sweaty, heated face. Bucky seemed like he genuinely wasn’t aware of the noise he was making, and the way you passive aggressively called him out on it made you feel like shit.

But what was worse was knowing there was a face, a drop dead gorgeous face that is responsible for making the women of New York scream in ecstasy every night. It was going to be very difficult to concentrate in class today.

Getting home later that afternoon you were anxious to make something to eat, but more anxious about Bucky, hoping you wouldn’t run into him again. As you opened your door your foot slid on something and as you looked down you saw a small envelope with your name written on it.

Inside was a $50 gift card to The Grind House with a little note. I’m truly sorry about the noise. –Bucky

Your mouth opened in shock at the realization that Bucky did this nice gesture for you, and worse, you were going to have to thank him.

PART 3

[buckyskorpion]

11 Hours - part one

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: um yes so hello another au and another wip..... dont hate the player hate the game. i hope you enjoy this though! this is my take on a biker!bucky au because we definitely dont have enough of those. let me know your thoughts on this, critiques, predictions, anything! my ask is open. also i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask. 

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

You lie on your stomach, sheets pooled by your ankles, and watch Bucky watch you. One hand propping him up on his side, the other tracing slow, hair-raising circles on your bare back. He’s not really seeing you though, eyes glazed over so they look shiny and huge, big enough to get lost in. You roll away from him, off the edge of the bed and onto your feet.

“Going?” he asks, voice rough. You can’t remember the last time one of you spoke - the time between breathless moans and now seems stretched, like a liminal space you’ve both been sitting in for far too long.  It’s time to get back to the real world. You shrug one shoulder, rooting around his bedroom floor for your clothes to redress.

“It’s late,” you say. He huffs an agreement. The two of you didn’t get back to his apartment until after midnight, so who knows the time now.

“Let me call you a cab,” Bucky says, rolling onto his back to pat around the bedside table for his phone. You toss him a look over your shoulder, chosing to ignore him as you pull your skinny jeans up over your ass. Bucky pauses to watch, tongue flicking over his lips and not bothering to hide his grin when you catch him. You throw your jacket at his head which he catches with ease, laughing himself back into the pillows. Ugh, he’s such a menace.

You walk back over to the bed once you get your last shoe on, closing the distance you’d created that was so obvious in the contrast between his bare skin and you, fully dressed. You lean over him, letting him tug you close with a hand on your hip while you pull him up with a grip on his dog-tags. You kiss him, a hard press of lips and a quick swipe of your tongue that he tries to follow but you pull away. He lets you go, rolling his eyes at the tease.

“See ya later, tough guy,” you say, backing up to the door. He tosses your leather jacket back to you, and you catch it with one hand as you head down the hallway. It’s the closest thing you’ll get to a goodbye from him, so you let the front door click shut without another word.

You shrug into your jacket as you race down the stairs of Bucky’s apartment building, heading for the laundry room. It’s not like you know Bucky - all you do is fuck on any day you both happen to be free, starting at a grungy bar in downtown weeks ago and ending here, in some strange friends with benefits situation (minus the ‘friends’ part). He’s hot, and you’re not looking for a relationship, so it’s perfect. Only, something about the scars on Bucky’s knuckles and the motorbike he drives you home on after the bar makes the hair on the back of your neck raise. Something about Bucky is bad news, and you’re not about to get caught up in it just for some (mindblowingly good) sex.

So, you head to the laundry room and climb out the window rather than using the lobby doors. Nobody sees you, and it’s easy to get to if you stand on the dryer in the far right corner. You don’t know why you think someone might be watching Bucky’s apartment, or following you from your late night visits, but your dad always said you were paranoid and it’s never hurt you this far in your life. You swing a leg through the window and drop down into the patchy grass below.

From here you scale the fence into the gym parking lot next door and enter the street that way, nobody the wiser. You stuff your hands in your pockets as you walk down the street, itching for a cigarette or some gum or a pair of earphones, something to keep you company as walk home in the middle of night in New York. There are still people out and about, because of course there are, it’s New York. You make it home without a hitch and immediately head to the shower to wash off the night.

Naked again, before you get under the jet you check your phone. Bucky has texted you - probably a joke or something, his pretence for checking you get home safely. Tough guy my ass, you think as you open the picture he’d sent. He’s holding up the black lace panties you’d been wearing, the one’s he’d pulled off with his teeth and tossed aside without a second thought. Under it, he’s sent another message. Think you forgot something.

Did I really forget them? You try to bite back a grin, because it’s sad to be standing in your bathroom smiling at your phone, but you’re unsuccessful. You watch the three dots under Bucky’s name start and stop, then start again, making your heartbeat pick up. You’d made the oh-so-confident Bucky ‘dont know his last name and don’t need to’ falter. It still gives you a thrill.

Don’t think you’ll be getting them back.

Consider it a present, perv.

You like it

No comment.

You jump in the shower, leaving your phone on the vanity. You can’t leave the shower until you rub one out, the rounds of sex you’d had a mere hour ago long forgotten at the thought of Bucky doing the same thing as you to the panties you’d left behind. Maybe you don’t want to get caught up in whatever shit Bucky is in to set off your paranoia radar, but you certainly want to get caught up in him. If you aren’t already; irreversibly tangled.

***

You never find Bucky, he finds you. Or rather, he gives you a call and you know within a few hours you’ll be at whatever bar or diner he asks you to meet him at, building up the tension until you both can’t take it anymore and go back to his apartment. It doesn’t matter what you say to him, or how many times you say no - you both know you’ll be there.

This time he catches you leaving your dad’s place, pushing through the gate as you put the phone up to your ear. You turn to wave goodbye to your dad in the window he always stands at to see you off towards the subway, and say, “So soon?”

“Hello to you too,” Bucky grumbles, but you know there’s no heat in it. You’re grinning as you dodge pedestrians, tugging your puffer jacket tighter around you with your free hand - the New York winter chill has started to set in and it’s biting through even the hoodie you’re wearing under the jacket.

“Hello, Bucky,” you say, hoping he can pick up on the thick condescension you’re handing him, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I can hang up,” Bucky warns, and you smirk. You’re winning this round, at least.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby.” You jog down the subway stairs, hoping your line doesn’t cut out as you move underground. It doesn’t, Bucky’s reluctant laugh filtering clear as day through your phone.

“Baby, huh? Moving onto pet names are we, doll?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ugh, not if they’re from the nineteen forties, no thank you.”

“I’m sure you hate it,” Bucky says, sarcasm heavy. You can hear his eyeroll from here. “What are you doing?”

“Getting on a train,” you say, as you do indeed slip through the almost-closed doors and try to avoid any and all surfaces around you. “What are you doing?”

“Talking to you,” Bucky says, grin audible. It’s your turn to huff now - Bucky never tells you anything about his life, what he’s doing, who he’s with. It’s another thing that makes you think he’s hiding something, but instead of finding it infuriating and a dealbreaker like you should, instead you’re fascinated. Your mission is to figure Bucky out, piece by piece.

There’s a muffled voice on the other line, someone talking to Bucky and you imagine him covering the receiver with one big palm. A hand that you want on you, running down your skin and pressing down over your throat and dipping between-

“You there?” Bucky asks, jolting you out of your daydream. You’re blushing, suddenly too-hot in the layers that were previously not doing enough to ward off the chill.

You clear your throat and say, “Yeah, yeah, sorry, what?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky says, clearly amused. “I said, I’ve got a favour to ask you. Something a bit different.”

“Oh?” It had been weeks of going to dive bars and underground diners, meeting Bucky in dark corners to drink rum and cokes and eventually fuck each other senseless until you’re sure Bucky must get noise complaints. Never had he once indicated he might want to change the routine you’d set up. Never had he asked you for a favour. To say you were intrigued was an understatement.

“Come to a party with me tonight?” he asks. You have to replay his voice in your head to make sure you heard right, stunned into silence. He takes your pause for a ‘no’, hurriedly filling it with, “I get if it’s a no, but my friend Nat is a drill sergeant and she’ll give me the third degree if I don’t bring-“

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you say, interrupting his nervous ramble. You’d never heard Bucky sound anything but aggressively confident before. It’s throwing you for more of a loop than his invitation. A large part of your brain tells you to say no. You don’t trust Bucky, really - you barely know him. But thats why you want to say yes. Going to this party might change that. “I’ll go. What time?”

“Eight tonight,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh. You organise to meet at his apartment, not quite ready to give him your address yet, and hang up. Your mind is reeling, sure everyone on the train must feel the impact of that phone call, too.

They’re all going about their business as if something monumental hasn’t just happened. Bucky has invited you into his life, to meet his friends, as his date. What happened to not-friends with benefits? What if this changes the arrangement you’ve carefully cultivated, so perfect for your independent lifestyle and Bucky’s obvious commitment issues?

The temptation is too much. You practically run home when you get off at your stop, anxious to get ready. You’re about to get a few more pieces of the Bucky puzzle and you have to look good for it.

***

Bucky stops you in the front hall of the house, a hand on your arm as he stares down at you. He looks comically large in the tiny Brooklyn town house, even if it is ten times nicer and more beautiful than your place will ever be. The party filters in from further inside the house, loud music and laughter and the obvious clink of beer bottles sounding muffled through the bubble of you and Bucky.

“My friends are… a lot,” he says, drawing his lip between his teeth. You tilt your head at him, amused by what you can only assume is nerves radiating off Bucky. He rolls his eyes at you, kisses you on the forehead quickly, and adds, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I can handle myself, tough guy,” you say as he tugs you by the hand through to the living room where the party is in full swing.

“I hope you’re not calling that punk ‘tough’, lady,” a man calls out from the couch, pointing the neck of his beer at Bucky. His tone sounds aggressive but the wide, gap-toothed smile he gives says otherwise. He gets up and pulls Bucky into one of those manly half-hugs. Bucky doesn’t drop your hand as he pats the guy on the back, and you try in vain not to read too much into that.

“Sam, this is (Y/n),” Bucky says, and to your surprise Sam pulls you into a hug as well. You make wide eyes at Bucky over Sam’s shoulder but he just smirks, clearly amused. He’s still holding your hand.

“Nice to meet you!” Sam exclaims, a bit too loud in your ear but you don’t mind. His happiness is infectious. “Come meet Natasha, she’s going to love you.”

“Why’s that?” you ask, letting yourself be led by Sam with an arm over your shoulders to the couch he’d just vacated. Bucky drops his grip but follows too-close behind you, his body heat almost like a physical touch on your back, reminding you he’s there. You wonder if he’s nervous about what you’re going to say to his friends, or what his friends are going to say to you.

“Because,” Sam says cryptically. You roll your eyes - he’s sounds just like Bucky.

Sam stops in front of the redhead woman he was sitting next to when you entered, dropping the arm from your shoulders. She immediately stops her conversation and stands up, giving you a once over with a smirk tucked tight in the corner of your mouth. You try not to feel intimidated but it’s hard - she’s beautiful, and scary, and did you mention beautiful? She shoots an amused look to Bucky over your shoulder, and in response Bucky rests his fingertips on the small of your back. Barely there, but just enough.

“You’ve brought someone, James,” she says, turning her attention back to you and holding a hand out. “Natasha, lovely to meet you.”

“(Y/n),” you say, taking her hand. It’s soft -  you half expected her to break your hand. “Thank you for having me.”

“Oh, you’re adorable,” she says, and you don’t bother hiding your frown. You don’t like feeling condescended and Natasha seems to be exuding that in palpable waves. Bucky must feel you stiffen because he steps closer, if possible, and slides the hand on your back around to grip your hip.

“Nat,” he says, with warning, and you glance up at Bucky to find him having some kind of silent stare off with Natasha over your head. Eventually he looks back down to you, smiling a bit and squeezing your hip, don’t worry about her. To you, he says, “Let’s go say hi to Steve.”

“See you later, (Y/n),” Nat says, wiggling her fingers in a wave as you follow Bucky to the kitchen. You ignore her, stepping closer to Bucky on instinct as you weave through people packed wall to wall. That was weird, but what did you expect? Bucky did warn you.

Steve turns out to be a giant blonde teddy bear who sweeps Bucky into a hug that lifts him onto his toes. It’s endlessly funny to see huge, muscled, intimidating Bucky being manhandled by a touchy, clearly tipsy behemoth. Bucky doesn’t let it stand for too long, though, bringing Steve into a headlock and sending them both tumbling into the kitchen bench.

“Jerk,” Steve gasps when Bucky lets him go, eyes narrowing. Bucky grins, breathless, and punches him on the shoulder.

“Punk,” he says fondly. You’re mesmerised. You’d wanted to see more of Bucky’s life but you never expected this. It’s like watching him with his family, and it makes something soft and fuzzy swell in your heart which is bad. Very, very bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have come.

Steve finally notices you’re there and you do the normal introductions, watching your hand disappear in his huge one as he shakes it. They’ve all been very welcoming, in their own ways, you notice (bar Natasha, but something tells you she’s always like that). They don’t seem to question your sudden appearance at their party or with their friend, holding Bucky’s hand and being tucked into his side as he passes you a beer and gets to talking about things you have no hope of following. You’re happy just to watch Bucky, smiling and laughing with pointed teeth and crinkles by his eyes. You still don’t really understand why you’re here, but you’re not going to question it. This feels like a stolen moment, something you’re not meant to see and might not see again so you try and commit as much to memory as you can.

The night goes on, talking with Sam and Steve and Natasha who appear to be Bucky’s closest friends and the only ones he bothers making time for. Bucky doesn’t stop touching you the entire time. At first you think it’s nerves, but the more you observe the party around you when the conversation turns to something you can’t contribute to, the more you think it’s for everyone else rather than Bucky’s nerves. You catch a lot of people eyeing his hand on your hip or his arm around your shoulders, or just looking at Bucky in general. Hardly anyone interrupts your little party of five but not for ignoring you - it’s almost like they revolve around you, in tune to the groups’ every movement, but they wouldn’t dare approach. It’s weird. You try not to look too hard into it but your dad is right. You’re paranoid.

Eventually it’s just you and Bucky sitting on a bench outside, a canopy of fairy lights casting shadows from his unfairly long eyelashes as he looks down at your entwined hands in his lap. You tug against his grip, causing him to look up at you and you almost lose your train of thought. Bucky’s eyes are searing blue, the hottest part of the flame.

“You’re being very possessive tonight,” you say, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He doesn’t look away from your eyes, cocking his head to the side and you have the distinct feeling you’re being tested.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. You don’t answer straight away. Truth be told, you have no idea what’s going on. You went from fucking Bucky on a semi-regular basis, keeping it at strangers who bone and nothing else, to being glued to his side at a party with his closest friends in what feels like no time at all. Whiplash, is what you feel. You don’t think you hate it, though.

“I never said that,” you tell Bucky, and watch as his face morphs from calculating to that shit-eating, confident smirk you’ve come to know. You’re relieved to see it, the sparkle of his eyes as he leans closer to you in the dark of the garden. This, at least, you know.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says, and you hate how you glow at the compliment when you should be rolling your eyes. “I know I’ve asked a lot.”

“It’s alright Bucky,” you say, smiling at his seriousness. You’d think he’s asked you to commit a crime or something. “Although, I don’t know why you needed me here. I’m glad you did, but…”

“But you thought I only wanted you, to fuck you?” he finishes, kicking his eyebrows up in amusement. You hate the way you blush, ducking your head from him to try and hide it.

“I feel like that was a very logical conclusion,” you say defensively. What else had he given you? You didn’t even know his last name.

He takes your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back up to look at him. He’s smiling soft, not condescending at all, and he moves his hand to cup your cheek in his palm and hold you there, looking at him.

“Maybe this was a test,” he says, licking his lips. Biding time. “To see if I can trust you.”

“Do you?” you ask, eyebrows kicking up.

“Jury’s still out,” he says with a grin, light-hearted, playing it off as a joke but you know from the look in his eyes that he’s being somewhat serious. He looks out at the garden then, still holding you close, and says almost thoughtfully, “My friends like you, though. Even Natasha.”

You scoff at that, and he turns back to you with that crinkly, squishy smile he gave to Steve before. It catches you off guard, enough to not see the kiss before it comes but you catch up as fast as you can. You want to slide into his lap and run your fingers under his shirt, but that’s probably a bit inappropriate in front of a bunch of people you just met. You settle for a frustrated groan against his mouth, biting his lip and tugging so he’s forced to chase you against the back of the bench, crowding your space. He drops your hand to slide his up your thigh, fingertips dangerously close to your crotch, kissing you hard enough to bruise. His tongue in your mouth is scalding, stubble against your skin a delicious burn, and you would’ve gotten lost in it if it weren’t for the very pointed cough from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

It’s Natasha, standing with her arms folded and a smile hidden somewhere in the green of her eyes. You try to mentally will away the flush in your cheeks as Bucky pulls back, hand still on your thigh but turning to glare at Natasha. You find yourself somewhat hiding behind the bulk of his shoulder despite yourself, letting him take the reins.

“Steve is puking,” she reports, raising one eyebrow. “Sam requests your assistance.”

“Fucking ‘course he does,” Bucky grumbles roughly, getting to his feet. Right before he storms away he pauses, leans back down to kiss you again, and then he’s back on a warpath through the house. Other guests part for him like the red sea, and you watch with furrowed eyebrows as they also seem to watch him go. He never goes anywhere without an audience. Perhaps you were right to be paranoid about him.

Natasha is still standing there when you blink yourself back to the garden, watching you with an unreadable expression. You straighten your holey, vintage t-shirt under your leather jacket and stand, not enjoying the power difference with her standing above you. You wish Bucky had taken you with him, even though you didn’t particularly want to watch Steve throw up everywhere. It would be preferable to being stuck under Natasha’s x-ray vision, though.

“I like your boots,” she says. It takes you aback - such a typical girl thing to say at a party to someone you don’t know, and Natasha doesn’t give you ‘typical’. You glance down at your Docs, and then back up at her pretty sundress with a sexy v-cut.  Sure you do, you think sarcastically, as you both stand there like night and day.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, “And again, for inviting me. The party’s been great.”

“Has it?” she asks, and why do you feel like she’s asking three questions at once? As if sensing your apprehension, she smiles and adds, “Just, I know we’re a bit full on and being the new girl at a party is always difficult.”

You blink, surprised once again. The sincerity throws you for a loop, as everything seems to with Natasha. You say, “I mean, yeah, but you guys are great. You all seem really close, it’s- nice. Like  a family.”

Something flashes in Natasha’s eyes, that amused little smirk returning to her face that fills your gut with dread. Was it something you said?

“Come on,” she says, and just as you think you can’t be surprised by this woman anymore, she winds her arm with yours and starts leading you back into the house. Throwing you a conspiratorial look you’re not sure you’ve earned, she says, “Let’s go find the boys. I’m sure Steve’s finished throwing up by now.”

Part Two

~~~~~ please let me know what you think!

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Thirteen (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

“You know who this is?”

The boxer on Detox’s screen is pretty. Real pretty. Also one that Vanessa knows well, after watching videos upon videos of professional boxers that Brooke would send her for homework when she had first started training.

“Olivia Lux.”

Detox gives her an approving smile. “Ding ding ding. You know who else she is?”

“Who?”

“Your next opponent.”

Hold up.

“Wait, what?”

A/N: Hi, I'm still alive! Slowly but surely still working on this fic. If you're still here and reading and reviewing, I appreciate you tons. Hope you enjoy this chapter, things are starting to pick up. Thank you writ for betaing <3

Vanessa’s not sure what to expect when Brooke asks her to come to morning practice half an hour earlier than usual, but Detox in a bright yellow suit with her Louboutins dangling off the side of Brooke’s desk is the last on her list.

“Look who it is. The prodigal athlete herself,” Detox smiles as she flips her ponytail over her shoulder, and Vanessa can’t help but be impressed by her full face of makeup at six in the morning.

Brooke is an adorable contrast sitting next to Detox, the rumpled sweats and top knot pairing perfectly with the way she hides a yawn behind her hand. “I tried to get Detox to come by in the afternoon, I really did.”

“Please. I have a flight in two hours and a meeting in L.A. at two today with Serena,” Detox takes a sip of her coffee, her lipstick staining the edge of the paper cup. “This won’t take too much time, don’t worry.”

“Who’s Serena?” Vanessa can’t help the curiosity that brews in her chest with every word out of  Detox’s mouth.

“Williams, obviously. Who else?”

Vanessa whistles, shooting a look over to Brooke. “Damn.”

Detox has Serena Williams as a client? Serena Williams, one of the greatest female athletes of all time? How on earth did she agree to work with Vanessa, of all people?

Because of Brooke. Brooke, who’s currently resting her cheek on her palm as her eyes are fluttering while trying to stay awake.

“Anyway, it’s been a few months. We’re milking that meme of yours, it’s still going strong for now,” Detox hops off of the table, her heels clacking against the floor as she sidles up to Vanessa. “But it won't last forever.”

“Cool?” Vanessa’s not quite sure what Detox wants as an answer, really, though she doesn’t look too satisfied.

“Not cool. You need to keep the momentum going. Catch the low swinging vines while they’re still in reach,” Detox pulls out her phone, her eyes darting over the screen and Vanessa almost wants to climb on her tiptoes to take a peek, but then Detox turns her screen to face her. “You know who this is?”

The boxer on Detox’s screen is pretty. Real pretty. Also one that Vanessa knows well, after watching videos upon videos of professional boxers that Brooke would send her for homework when she had first started training.

“Olivia Lux.”

Detox gives her an approving smile. “Ding ding ding. You know who else she is?”

“Who?”

“Your next opponent.”

Hold up.

“Wait, what?”

Vanessa can’t help the panicked lilt in her voice as she takes a step back, her shoulder hitting the side of the doorframe. Brooke doesn’t look as freaked out as Vanessa feels, which makes no sense because Olivia Lux isn’t another run of the mill boxer. She’s a pro. One of the big ones. She’s at the same caliber that Brooke used to fight at. She has sponsorships and fans of her own, and a damn good left hook to boot. Good enough that she doesn’t even need a last name for everyone on the boxing scene to know who she is. The damn Beyonce of boxing.

How’s Vanessa supposed to fight her?

“This is how you’re going to keep yourself a household name. You’re entering the big leagues, kid."

“But...but…” Vanessa trails off, and maybe she’s fidgeting a little bit but she doesn’t exactly know what else to do, not when Brooke is looking perfectly calm about all of this.

“I’ll get in contact with Olivia’s agent and we’ll drum up some publicity, set up some interviews, get the internet buzzing. Should cause a spike in interest in you, no problem,” Detox types furiously on her phone as she stands up, twirling to face Vanessa. “What are you looking so terrified for?”

Vanessa can’t help but look at Detox as if she has two heads, because really, isn’t it obvious? “She’s gonna beat my ass up, that’s why! You want me to die on national tv for a second time?”

Vanessa’s already gone and humiliated herself enough. Facing someone like Olivia Lux right now sounds like an insane idea, it really does, when Olivia has a penchant for flashing her opponents a grin before absolutely pulverizing them.

“So dramatic,” Detox snorts, waving a hand airily. “I’ve seen your training videos and boxing matches. You’ll be just fine.”

“Fine?” Vanessa’s ready to launch into an explanation of how she’s not going to be fine, thank you very much, not with her level of skill but then there’s a hand over hers, and Brooke’s eyes looking at her all warm and comforting.

“It’s going to be your choice, whether or not you want to do this. Always your choice.” Brooke’s thumb rubs against Vanessa’s hand in small little circles and it slows her heart rate down just a bit, enough to keep it from taking flight. “But if my opinion matters, you definitely have the skills and drive to hold your own against Olivia. You’re better at this than you think you are.”

Vanessa lets out a shaky sigh. “Dunno about that.”

Sure, she can hold her own in the ring at an amateur level, in the easier tournaments where her competitors have a similar level of experience as she does. Someone like Olivia on the other hand, who’s trained for more than a decade and won enough belts to cement herself as a legend on the pro scene...Vanessa wants to cover herself in bubble wrap for protection at the mere thought of going up against her.

She really should have picked a sport like golf. Maybe bowling. Something a little less combat-filled if she has to go up against a pro.

“How about this,” Detox starts, standing up and pulling her trench coat over her shoulders, “give it a week. Think about it, decide, whatever. I’ll put some feelers out, and if you want to do it, we can get the ball rolling. If not, well, you’ll have to break into the professional scene some time or another, doll. Might as well do it at the peak of fame, no?”

“We’ll let her think about it,” Brooke cuts in before Vanessa even has to say anything at all, and she lets out a sigh of relief at the interlude.

Detox blows air kisses in their direction as she heads for the door, a perfect Hollywood caricature leaving in a cloud of perfume that makes Vanessa wrinkle her nose. Detox’s mere presence is an event in itself, one that Vanessa feels like she needs to catch her breath to recover from.

Brooke’s looking at her almost warily, her fingers tapping against the desk with a nervous energy. Quite bold for someone who’d probably do just fine against Olivia.

“D’you really think I’d be able to hold my own against her?” Vanessa finally gets out, because now that Detox isn’t here, Brooke will be honest with her, right? Not reassuring her just to look confident in front of Detox?

“Obviously,” Brooke says with an eyebrow-raise. “Like I said, you’re better than you think.”

“But that last match-”

“You think a pro boxer has never lost a match before?” Brooke asks, before letting out a sigh. “Boxing isn’t about how hard you can hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.”

Vanessa scoffs. “You did not just quote Rocky Balboa to me.”

“Sure did. And it’s true. You’ve lost a match. Cool. Fifty fifty chance of that happening. So how are you going to come back from it in the ring? Are you going to let it keep you from boxing again?”

“No, not that, I just…” Vanessa trails off, trying to search for the right words, “how am I supposed to fight against someone like Olivia? Or try and stage a comeback against a pro?”

Brooke’s lips curl up at the edges, a smile on her face that Vanessa doesn’t quite understand. “Y’know, you’re technically a pro.”

“What? No I’m not. Gassing me up like that ain’t gonna work,” Vanessa scoffs, crossing her arms, but Brooke looks unfazed.

“The definition of a ‘pro’ encompasses someone who has sponsors, who accepts prize money. You’re there, aren’t you? Or did I imagine the billboard of you outside my subway station this morning?”

“Another one?” Vanessa squeaks out, because Jesus Christ. Detox never rests.

“You’re already a pro. And your skill level is rising to catch up with you, too. I really think we can get you to be a solid threat to her, Ness, I really do.”

The sincerity in Brooke’s eyes is almost jarring in a way, because Vanessa knows she’s not joking. Not that she’d joke about something like this, but...still. Brooke believes her own words.

“And you’re really not just saying that?” Vanessa mumbles, because it doesn’t hurt to check one more time just in case she’s going to change her answer.

“I’m really not. Like I said, you’re better than you think you are.” Brooke, to her credit, isn’t looking exasperated with her, despite earning the right to be, and instead, she smiles. “And if you really want to increase your chances of winning, I can always push you a tad harder in the gym, make your conditioning and strength workouts even more intense. Is this your way of asking for it?”

“Now hold on just a second,” Vanessa squeaks, holding both of her hands up in front of herself. “I’m a little too young to experience a heart attack. Still got a baby face and all.”

“You know, I bet Olivia’s pushing herself in the gym right this second,” Brooke says lightly, her smile growing when Vanessa huffs and crosses her arms.

“Well, when you say it like that-”

“Atta girl. Now come on,” Brooke says, sliding herself off of her desk and holding out her hands to Vanessa. “Time to sweat.”

“Lord, have mercy.”

Time is malleable in the professional sports world.

The seconds in between a knockout and the referee making the call can feel like hours, meanwhile months of training can feel like a whirlwind in preparation for a match that creeps up all too soon. Brooke is not sure how two months have passed since Vanessa’s signed on for the fight with Olivia Lux, how their training plan is reaching the peak in anticipation of the match that’s now only a few days away. Vanessa’s everywhere, across from her in the gym and on the advertisements lining the subway cars on her ride home. She’s there when Brooke closes her eyes to sleep and pictures drills in her head that she’ll try out the next morning in practice, and she’s also floating in Brooke’s consciousness when she’s yanked from her dream at 4:30 am by the alarm she’s set to get to the airport on time.

Their flight to L.A is this morning. The match against Olivia is tomorrow. Brooke’s certain that Vanessa’s more ready than she’ll ever be, if her grit at yesterday’s practice is anything to go by.

So why does Brooke’s chest feel full of knots?

The knots loosen a tad when she sees Vanessa stumble out of her apartment building in a losing battle with her suitcase handle, as the sun casts pinks and oranges along the sidewalk. Brooke hops out of the Uber that they’re sharing to the airport to help Vanessa haul the suitcase into the trunk beside her own, and the smile that Vanessa shoots her warms her up on the inside, despite the chilly morning bite in the air.

“Now tell me why we couldn’t book a respectable flight in the afternoon? Why the hell are we leaving at the ass crack of dawn?” Vanessa asks behind a yawn as the car starts to move, and Brooke lets out one of her own.

“Because we need time to drop things off at the hotel, and fit in a training session before weigh-in and media this afternoon, and not to mention heading to bed on time to get a good night’s sleep before the match tomorrow-”

“Oh, I’ll get a good night’s sleep after waking up this damn early, I’ll tell you that,” Vanessa grumbles as she rubs her eyes, and Brooke has to hold back a laugh when she tugs her hoodie over her head.

“Aren’t you used to waking up early for practice, anyway? This is only a couple of hours more.”

“I need every minute of beauty sleep I can get, with all those interviews Detox lined up for today,” Vanessa mutters. “You’d think this was the royal wedding or some shit. Two boxers, united in holy ass kicking, on this beautiful autumnal afternoon-”

“That’s the spirit,” Brooke snorts, leaning back in her seat.

There’s something about Vanessa’s presence that always soothes the nerves tingling along her spine, slowing down the thoughts in her brain that run too fast while on autopilot. Just a smile and a wisecrack from under Vanessa’s breath is enough to let Brooke exhale and relax her previously tensed posture. Even when Vanessa doesn’t believe it herself, she has the tendency to reassure Brooke that everything is going to work out. Or at least, as much that can be worked out when partaking in a pro fight for the first time.

Despite the unspoken pressure of what’s to come Vanessa’s still grinning, quips rolling off of her tongue that make Brooke crack up and cause the other passengers in the terminal’s waiting area to shoot them dirty looks. It doesn’t stop as they board the flight either, if Vanessa’s woop of excitement as they reach their seats is anything to go by.

“You mean to tell me Detox booked us in first class? Bitch, I ain’t ever even sat in Economy Plus before. Shit.”

“Perks of becoming a meme, huh?” Brooke asks, storing her carry-on in the overhead compartment.

“I feel bougie as hell now,” Vanessa whistles, though lets out a huff when the shelf is too high for her to slide her own carry-on bag into place.

Brooke grins, plucking the bag from her grip and pushing it in for her. “You didn’t feel bougie when Prada sent you a PR package last week?”

“Nah, but this is different, y’know? One of those things you always hope to eventually do, even when it feels far fetched. This makes it more real.”

Brooke gets it. She remembers first experiencing the perks of her dad’s success - the sponsorships, the connections, their move from their tiny apartment to a penthouse suite. It was the little things at the time that had made it feel real - like the fact that her dad had stopped buying the value brand juice boxes for Brooke’s lunches, and instead went for the kool-aid jammers that everyone else in her class was bringing in. The smaller, minute differences felt more significant, in a way, with the larger changes in their lives at the time more of a fever dream.

“What’re you gonna watch?” Vanessa asks, thumbing through the entertainment display on the seat in front of her. “I’m thinking Toddlers and Tiaras.”

“Seriously?” Brooke asks, raising an eyebrow on the overly hairsprayed child displayed on Vanessa’s screen. “That show freaks me out.”

Vanessa shrugs, crossing her legs on her seat. “That’s the beauty of it. Can’t tear your eyes from the car wreck.”

“I’m gonna stick with Nashville, I’m already in the middle of a rewatch, so may as well keep going,” Brooke shrugs.

“Ain’t that the show on country music? Lord Jesus, you are so white,” Vanessa shakes her head, tutting under her breath.

Brooke scoffs, crossing her arms. “It’s a good show! You can’t talk, not when you’re watching toddlers with spray tans.”

For as much as Vanessa defends her choice of show, she doesn’t watch much of it, not when Brooke notices her eyes slipping closed and her head starting to lean forward before jerking backwards every so often. The déjà vu that flares in Brooke’s chest when Vanessa’s head settles onto her shoulder is inevitable, when the movement mirrors their trip to that fateful tournament where Vanessa’s boxing journey completely changed trajectories. In a way, some things still haven’t changed - the way Vanessa’s eyelids flutter as she sleeps, the soft rise and fall of her chest. Vanessa snuggles in even more against her shoulder as she mumbles under her breath, and the wave of affection that goes over Brooke is the same as what it would have been on the way to that tournament.

She has to ignore Yvie’s knowing words that worm their way into her brain, the ones that have become more and more prevalent over the last few months - you’re into her, she’s into you, why don’t you just tell her how you feel? It’s that easy, and you won’t have to mope anymore. The words that she always scoffs out whenever Brooke has a faraway look on her face, or after Vanessa leaves their apartment after another movie night. Yvie’s perceptive, a little bit too perceptive for her own good, because she’s seeing things that shouldn’t even be there.

Brooke isn’t into Vanessa, because she can’t be. What kind of predatory coach falls for their student?

The way her heart flutters when Vanessa smiles at her is irrelevant, as is the way that she always puts on Beyoncé for their morning warm up just to make Vanessa happy. It doesn’t matter.

Because any coach would do everything in their power to make their athlete happy. It doesn’t mean anything more.

Besides, Vanessa doesn’t feel the same way. Not when her smile lights up her face with everyone she meets, not when her banter and jokes are the same with Brooke as they are with her other friends. She’s friendly and considerate and perfect because that’s just who she is, not because she has feelings.

Yvie’s often wrong, anyway.

Though it doesn’t stop Brooke from imagining what things would be like if she could press a kiss to Vanessa’s temple as she sleeps, or maybe rub small circles onto her palm with her thumb. Provide that reassurance for the fight ahead even while she’s asleep, keeping an eye out for her the way she deserves. Wrapping her arms around her at night because they can share a bed rather than have separate rooms and hey, Brooke would definitely sleep better if Vanessa was in her arms because she felt the same way and-

No.

She can’t.

Thoughts like that aren’t helpful, not when they have no realistic way of happening. Besides, Vanessa’s type is probably more towards the male athletes at the gym. She’s never indicated anything to the contrary, no matter what Yvie says.

Brooke really needs to stop her brain from running full steam ahead with unlikely scenarios that’ll stay fictional forever. Besides, there’s a fight to focus on. One that’ll be the biggest of Vanessa’s life so far. It would be selfish of Brooke to derail it because her heart flutters a little more than it should when Vanessa smiles at her, or speaks in that soft voice that she only uses when she’s feeling pensive, or-

Christ.

The pilot overhead announcing the impending descent and landing is almost a blessing, because it causes Vanessa to stir against her shoulder and Brooke can push away the idiotic thoughts threatening to take over her consciousness, and instead focus on how cute Vanessa looks when she’s blinking away sleep.

“We here already? That flight was five minutes long, max.”

“That’s what happens when you sleep the entire journey,” Brooke murmurs, resisting the urge to tuck a loose lock of hair behind Vanessa’s ear.

Vanessa yawns. “You make a good pillow. I swear, I slept like a baby. You take reservations for that shoulder, at all?”

“What, you want to rent it out to sleep on? That’ll cost you way extra,” Brooke replies, ignoring the longing in her chest that would gladly let Vanessa rest on her any time she wanted.

“I got venmo and cash app. Your choice,” Vanessa giggles, leaning back against her seat. “It’s part of coaching duties and all, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Coaching duties,” Brooke mumbles.

That’s all it is. It can’t be anything more, not when the chance of it ever happening is close to zero.

Brooke really needs to go back to thinking like a coach.

“Why don’t we live in L.A? We could go to the beach after practice every day if we wanted to,” Vanessa huffs out between breaths, before taking a swig from her water bottle.

The view of the parking lot from the hotel’s fitness room is a far cry from the ocean, but Vanessa remembers seeing a sign during their Uber ride earlier today indicating that they were near a beach. A girl can fantasize.

Brooke drops her hands, her boxing pads swinging slightly. “Two words: L.A. traffic. You’d also miss your mom and sister way too much.”

“I’ll give you that,” Vanessa concedes. “My sister? Nah. My mom, though? Neither of us would cope without each other fifteen minutes away.”

“I think that’s sweet, though,” Brooke smiles, before lifting her pads back up, an unspoken signal for Vanessa to go for another round. “It’s nice that you two are so close.”

“Yeah, until she’s poking around my apartment and folding the clothes piled on the chair in my room, and going on about ‘ay, Vanessa, you’ve folded your socks all wrong and did you call your Tia Luisa for her birthday yet? And don’t forget about dinner next Friday, you better bring the tostones because there’s no way I’m cooking absolutely everything, okay?’”  Vanessa tops off her impression with a snap of her fingers. “Nah, I love it, though.”

She really does. It’s nice, the way her and Alexis and her mom have remained such a close family unit, through everything. As much as Vanessa huffs and puffs when her mom begins a lecture two minutes after entering her apartment, she truly doesn’t mind.

“It means she cares,” Brooke grins. “C’mon, one more round and we’re done for the day.”

“Are you sure? Ain’t it not enough?” Vanessa asks, and she doesn’t mean to let her voice waver the way it does, but Brooke gives her that knowing look and grabs her shoulders in a way that tells Vanessa that she’s definitely noticed.

“What have we been doing for the past few months, hm?” Brooke raises an eyebrow, and Vanessa has to resist the urge to huff.

“Training.”

“And how many hours a day have we been training?”

“A fuck ton.”

“That’s what I thought,” Brooke shrugs, before her eyes soften just a tad. “You’re ready, okay? Even past the physical part of it. Do you think I’d make you write an analysis on Olivia’s fighting techniques just for fun?”

“I still can’t believe you made me do that,” Vanessa replies, wrinkling her nose. “I wasn’t my English teacher’s favourite in high school, lemme tell you that.”

At least Brooke hadn’t minded when Vanessa started her so-called paper with ‘let me tell you something,' or when she threw in some barbs about the weaknesses in Olivia’s fighting techniques.

“It did help though, I can’t lie,” Vanessa concedes. “Watching so many of her fights and breaking everything down.”

“You know how often I go on about boxing being as mental as it is physical,” Brooke shrugs. “No point in going into a fight without a plan. We’ve planned for months. You’ve worked on this plan for months. Do you really think you aren’t ready?”

Vanessa sighs. “It’s not that, I just…” she trails off, slumping slightly as the words she’s been trying to shove out of her brain fight their way to the forefront. “What if I lose?”

She’d lost her most recent match and became a meme as a result. What if her so-called career as a pro will be nothing more than getting her ass kicked and getting made fun of? Vanessa’s a sucker for punishment, sure, but she’s also not a clown.

Brooke shrugs. “Then we prepare for your next match. But what makes you so sure that will happen?”

“I mean, I got thoroughly whooped in my last match, and I haven’t fought since then-”

“Then what do you call our daily sparring where I really don’t hold back against you anymore, at all?”

Brooke’s revelation makes Vanessa pause. “Wait, really? You don’t go easy on me?”

Vanessa’s always thought that Brooke fought at an unattainable level as a pro - someone unstoppable, someone that Vanessa should aspire to be like. But if Brooke isn’t holding back against her anymore, then…

“As you’ve improved, I’ve pushed you harder and harder. You don’t think you’re still at the level you were at when you walked into my gym with press-ons, do you?”

The disbelief in Brooke’s expression is mixed in with pride and a twinkle in her eye - a look that Vanessa always strives to get out of her during training, one that makes her stomach flip in excitement.

“So what you’re saying is, I can whoop your ass,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke’s eye roll is immediate.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. Olivia, though? More than capable of whooping hers. You’re ready, Ness. You really are.”

With the way Brooke is looking at her, part of Vanessa may be finally starting to believe it, too.

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

The Roommate

(KunTen Threesome)

Kun X Ten X Reader

16.2K words

You had no idea how you ended up in this situation, but God did it feel good.  

It had been so long since you felt this dirty, this... filled up. You were exhausted and yet you wanted more, you needed more. You never wanted this feeling to end. It was like you and Kun had been visited by an angel, or maybe devil would be more accurate. What used to be dull was now exciting and sexy. You couldn’t even imagine going back to what sex was like, what life was like before he showed you, and not just you, both of you were blessed by his presence. Others wouldn’t understand it, but that was their loss. They couldn’t understand the intensity of the pleasure you felt. 

You and Kun had only been together for two months now, but you knew that he was the one. He was everything that you could ask for and more. He was protective, reliable, caring, considerate, generous, the list went on and on, not to mention the fact that he had an ass that wouldn’t quit. In the short amount of time you two had gotten to know each other, you were already inseparable. There was only one problem, the sex.

You were far from a virgin, but you had just broken up with your ex when you first met Kun, so you wanted to take things slow. Your ex was a cheating son of a bitch and you had just felt used by him which is why you wanted to make sure that the next guy would love you for you, not just your body. Kun was actually there the night you had caught your ex, Xiaojun, cheating on you. Xiaojun was a club promoter at one of the biggest clubs in the city, Neo Zone. You knew that his job involved light flirting, but when you had tried to surprise him by visiting him one night, you ended up seeing something you wish you hadn’t, Xiaojun making out with some random girl. You had walked up to him and once he noticed you, he had the fucking audacity to just say “Oh. Hey,” causing you to run out of the club with tears in your eyes.  

With mascara running down your face, you ran past a line of people trying to get into the club you wanted so desperately to get away from. You wanted to avoid their stares and just when you thought that you had successfully avoided anyone and everyone, you ran straight into someone, falling flat on your ass.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I should have looked where I was going,” the man apologized offering you his hand.

“Don’t be stupid. It was me who ran into you,” you coldly replied, making a point to get up without the man’s help.

“Are you okay?” he asked again after retracting his hand.

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” you snapped.

The man stepped back, obviously shocked by the tone of your voice, yet he continued to press on.  

“You’ve been crying,” he commented.

“So what?” you barked before starting to walk away.

You hadn’t taken more than a couple steps before the overly curious man grabbed your arm, halting you.

You turned back towards him with a glare that could intimidate even the bravest of men. He reacted by looking down at the hand that was grabbing onto your arm, then quickly releasing it.

“Sorry. I’m just... you seem... sorry... do you wanna talk about it?” he seemed unsure of himself in every way so why was he still... trying?

“I’m not drunk so don’t think that you can ‘get’ me,” you scowled.

“No! I’m not... I’m not trying to hit on you. I’m just concerned. You seem really upset. Can I take you somewhere?  Like... to get a coffee or something? I know it’s late, but I’m sure we could get coffee at like a convenience store or something.”

You took notice of the man’s appearance for the first time. You had wanted to feel him out to see if his concern was really genuine, but instead you found yourself admiring his features.

His bleached blonde locks were swept to the side in a style that showed off his shaved sides. His eyebrows were straight, and his lips had a slight pout to them. His jaw was stronger than what you were used to, and you couldn’t help but notice the single gold earring that dangled from his ear as he spoke. It was strange actually. Normally a face like this would be considered intimidating, but the string of stutters and “I’m sorry”s made the man in front of you anything but.

Remembering that the subways wouldn’t start running for another few hours led you to accept his invitation for convenient store coffee. You ended up telling him everything about what had happened that night, about Xiaojun, everything. He listened carefully and didn’t make any moves on you whatsoever. It felt nice knowing that someone was being kind to you without trying to get laid in the process, which is why when he drove you home, you initiated the kiss. He gave you his number and you started seeing each other. It was really perfect actually. He respected your wishes and waited for over a month before you both had sex for the first time. He was perfect in every way... except one.  

The sex...was horrible. Okay, so it wasn’t the worst, but despite being compatible in every other way, you weren’t sexually compatible in the least. It wasn’t that he wasn’t gifted, God knows that he was more than blessed in that department. It was just that he was... gentle, too gentle.  

He was beyond attractive, but during sex, it was like he doubted himself in every way not that you were any better. For some reason you couldn’t preform either. Neither of you could understand it.  

He felt horrible that he hadn’t managed to make you cum even once, but the moment you faked it, he called you out immediately. It was a blow to his confidence to say the least.  

You weren’t the only one who was struggling to reach their climax. With him, there was a fifty-fifty percent chance that he would cum. Trying to comfort you, he would swear that he had never had this problem before, but of course that only made you feel worse about yourself.

You loved Kun and you wanted to make it work, but you had no idea where to start. You never had this problem before.  

Kun had invited you over to his place, so you were sure that sex was on the table. In an attempt to spice things up, you put on your sexiest lingerie before putting on a nice summer dress along with a cardigan to keep you warm. You were hoping to jump into his arms as soon as he opened the door, but you were not expecting him to have company. After knocking, a man that was definitely not Kun had answered the door.  

He was short. That was the first thing you noticed about him. He might have even been shorter than you, but you couldn’t focus on his height for long because he was absolutely breathtaking. He had very feminine features, but they didn’t take away from his masculinity at all. His eyes were large and round and his jawline was way better than yours, probably even better than Kun’s as well, but to compare the two would have seemed impossible. If Kun looked like an angel, then this boy definitely looked like a demon.  

His hair was raven black and styled so that his bangs were swept to the side. His skin was both tan and pale, which you didn’t know was even possible, but there were a lot of things about the man’s features that didn’t seem possible.  

He was wearing leather pants that were tight around his legs and.... well, everywhere else too. He wore a chain that draped from one of his belt loops, yet no belt, which probably made sense given how tight his pants were. He had on an oversized black t shirt that was ripped at the neck, allowing his protruding collar bones to peek out. His shoes were combat boots, because... well, of course they were. Everything about his outfit screamed intimidation right down to the myriad of piercings that adorned his ears.  

“Look who it is, the infamous Y/N,” the man teased.

You were caught off guard by his higher than expected voice.

“In-infamous?” you stuttered.

The man chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’m just kidding. I was wondering when I would get to meet Kun’s girlfriend,” he cooed, opening the door wider to let you in.  

You tried to collect yourself after the sudden shock of meeting the man who’s name and exact relation to Kun you were still unaware of.  

Walking through the door, your arm accidentally brushed past the man’s, but you figured that apologizing would only make you sound more awkward than you already felt.  

“May I take your sweater?”

You shot a glance towards him in a brief bout of confusion before he opened the coat closet and took out a hanger.  

“Oh, um... Sure,” you complied as you started to take your cardigan off.  

As the sleeves fell off your shoulders, so did one of your dress’ straps, revealing the lacey lingerie you were wearing underneath.  

You hadn’t even noticed your wardrobe malfunction until you realized that Ten was watching you as though you were doing something far more suggestive than just hanging your sweater on the closet rack. You quickly readjusted your dress strap unable to control the heat that suddenly rose to your cheeks, earning a chuckle from the strange man.

“Don’t worry, princess. I see what’s happening, what you’re trying to do,” he taunted.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not trying to do anything,” you started waving your hands erratically at his accusation, only to make him laugh even more.  

“I said don’t worry. It’s cute to see that Kun’s girlfriend isn’t as innocent as I had originally thought she would be. Although... you do get flustered just as easily.”

You continued to stare at the man in embarrassment.

“I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes, so you won’t have to worry about me when you make your move on my friend, here,” he mocked as Kun mad his appearance.  

The sight of your boyfriend was more than enough to send your mind into a panic.

Oh god, what were I thinking? The fact that the thought that this guy was suggesting that the sudden exposure of my lingerie was on purpose, had even crossed my mind proved how much of a pervert I really am. Of course, he was talking about how I was wearing it for my boyfriend.  

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Kun greeted, causing you to jump out of your skin a little in reaction to the sudden interruption of your thoughts.  

“H-hey, Kun!” you shouted a little too loud as you basically jumped into his embrace.    

“I see you’ve already met my roommate, Ten,” Kun continued.

You looked back at the raven-haired man who was simply watching you hug your boyfriend in amusement.

“R-roommate?” you stuttered as you released yourself from your boyfriend’s arms.

“No actually, we haven’t gotten to that part yet,” the man walked over to you, his hand extending towards yours.  

“I’m Chittaphon, but please call me Ten.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said as you turned back to Kun cutting off the introduction.

“I didn’t know you had a roommate.”

“Well I’m normally not here most nights, so I’m pretty sure he forgets he has a roommate himself sometimes,” Ten answered for him.

“Anyways, I’m about to head out, so don’t worry about me interrupting anything,” Ten winked as he grabbed a worn-down leather jacket from the closet you had just hung up your sweater in.  

Both you and Kun started blushing which earned yet another chuckle from Ten.  

“I told you,” he teased before walking out the door.

“Told you what?” Kun questioned.

“Um.. Nothing, I don’t remember. Haha,” you responded, kicking yourself for your awkwardness.  

Kun curiously quirked his head to the side but didn’t pry any further.  

Once you were sure that Kun’s roommate was gone your lips attacked Kun’s. Your hands travelled to the back of his head keeping his mouth pressed against yours, but he managed to push you away.

“Hey, hey, you just got here, don’t you wanna hang out and talk first?”

You looked up at him with a glint of defeat in your eyes. Your disappointment not going unnoticed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to! It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a few days and I wanna catch up, that’s all.”

“Kun, we text a thousand times a day and you call me every night, even when we do see each other,” you scoffed, slightly irritated.

“Babe, you know it’s not the same. I love it when we get to talk in person.”

Kun’s use of the pet name gave you a slight shiver, making you heed your boyfriend’s request.

You both walked over to the couch to sit down.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You’re the one who was so insistent on ‘catching up,’” you smirked using air quotes to emphasize your point.

Kun looked down at his feet.

“Well you could tell me about the roommate I didn’t know you had,” you coolly mentioned, not wanting your boyfriend to see the intense curiosity you held regarding the raven-haired man.

“Oh, Ten? Ten’s cool. We’ve actually gotten a lot closer lately. At first we never really saw each other.”

“Oh yeah?” you motioned for him to go on.  

“Yeah well, I couldn’t afford to stay at my last apartment since my old roommate moved out, so while searching for a new place, I came across a flyer for this place,” Kun continued.  

“It was a typical roommate wanted poster, but I remember thinking that it was a little odd,”

“Why?” you asked, curiosity taking over.  

“Well the flyer said that the renter was a night owl and that he was looking for a roommate who was quiet during the day.”

“Huh,” you commented.

“Yeah, but the rent was so cheap that I gave him a call the next day. We met up here and he gave me a tour and everything. He told me that he worked at night so I wouldn’t have to worry about him being loud while I was sleeping,” Kun relayed, chuckling at the memory.  

“I remember being so curious as to what he did for a living, yet for some reason I didn’t have the courage to ask him. I figured that he was probably a bartender or something.”

You kept looking at Kun as he recalled the events, but you remained silent, not wanting to interrupt his story,

“I ended up moving in later that week. At first, we never really saw each other. I was taking morning classes, so I was typically in bed before he left for work. Sometimes he would leave notes asking me to take out the garbage or telling me that the garbage disposal was broken, but not to worry about it since a plumber would be coming by to fix it. It wasn’t until I finished up the semester that we started interacting. I didn’t have to wake up as early, so I would stay up later. It was actually pretty nice. We mostly just did small talk, but it was nice to be able to actually see my roommate. Although... after a while, I noticed that Ten would dress up in some very unusual clothing. Sometimes it was casual, but sometimes he would wear all leather. either way it he wore mostly black. At first, I wondered if he was just going out before work, but he never brought a change of clothing as far as I could tell.”

“Those were his work clothes?” you inquired.

“Yeah, I know right? I still hadn’t asked him what he did for a living at that point, and honestly I think that I was too afraid to find out.”

“So, you don’t know what he does?”  

“Well, actually, it’s kind of a funny story,“ Kun started, as though the story hadn’t already been weird up to this point.

“One Friday night, Ten didn't have to work, so he invited me to drink with him at home. I was a little hesitant at first but Ten was being so kind about it, insisting that roommates should get to know each other over at least one drink, so I agreed and well, one drink turned into six and next thing you know, we’re telling each other our life stories. Ten is actually a pretty interesting guy, not to mention generous. Even though the rent for this place is 1,600,000 won, he only charges me 600,000. His reasoning was that he had the larger of the rooms. He seemed so well off that I even wondered why he needed a roommate in the first place. When I asked him, he told me that he was saving up to expand his business, which is when I finally asked him about it.”

You were completely captivated by Kun’s story, the suspense was almost eating away at you. What kind of job allowed you to wear leather and chains? Was Kun living with a prostitute? Or perhaps Ten was a dominatrix. Maybe his business was a sex club. It was crazy to think about but was it really that farfetched of an idea? It wasn’t like it would be unbelievable to think that a man who oozed sex appeal wouldn’t be capable of having chosen either one of said professions.  

“What did he say?” you asked mentally preparing yourself for Kun’s answer.  

“He’s a sex therapist,” Kun stated matter of factly.

Your eyebrows raised.

“A sex therapist? Just a sex therapist?”

“I know right? I thought for sure that he was a dominatrix of some sort, but no, he’s just a sex therapist.”

“So, the clothes-”

“He just likes them,” Kun answered already knowing what you were going to ask.  

“He own’s his own business so he doesn’t have to worry about a dress code,” he continued.

“But his clients, wouldn’t they feel uncomfortable-”

“Well get this,” Kun interjected once more.

“Ten isn’t your typical sex therapist.”

“What do you mean?”

“He watches them,” Kun hummed.

“What?”

“His clients, he watches them have sex.”

“Most sex therapists have an office where their clients come to talk about their sex lives and the problems that they have, but Ten does things differently. Of course, he does have an office and his clients do come in to talk about their sex lives, but Ten does house calls as well,” Kun explained.

“Did he tell you this?” you questioned.  

“He told me everything. He wouldn’t tell me his clients names, but he told me about how sometimes, if he felt the couple needed extra assistance, he would literally guide them.”

You felt a small tinge of guilt as the thought of you and Kun possibly needing Ten’s guidance crossed your mind.  

“So, he’s a prostitute sex therapist?”  

“No, he doesn’t join in, he just tells them what to do. Although.... he did hint that he sometimes he does other things like teaching them how to tie silk ropes or umm...” Kun suddenly coughed out of awkwardness.

“Sometimes he’ll what?” you demanded, on the edge of your seat.

“Nothing, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Kun said as he reached his hand to your shoulder.

Your strap had fallen down again, revealing your lingerie for the second time that day.  

“What’s this?” Kun playfully teased, trying to change the subject.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re the one who told me you wanted to ‘catch up.’ What did he say?”

Kun’s flirty façade suddenly faltered.  

“Can we talk about something else?” he pleaded.

“Kun, I wanna know,” you softly protested, your eyes widened in the hopes of charming the answer out of him.

“I just don’t feel comfortable talking about Ten’s personal stuff,” Kun defended.

“Baby, you literally just told me that your roommate watches people have sex for a living. How bad could it be?”

Kun sighed.

“I don’t know exactly what he meant by this because we were both pretty drunk, but he told me that when he makes a house call, it’s like he becomes a part of it, even though he isn’t physically participating. It’s like he does everything except have sex with the couple.”

Your earlier thoughts of wanting to ask Ten for advice on how to improve you and Kun’s sex life quickly dissipated as this new information on just how uncomfortable and violative Ten’s methods revealed themselves to be. Except now your thoughts were filled with images of Ten and what he could have possibly meant when he told Kun how he would sexually engage with his clients.  

Your guilt increased tenfold when an image of you and Ten crossed your mind. You wondered what sex with him would be like. Besides the fact that he was mouth wateringly attractive and was dripping in sex appeal, he had this aura to him that felt almost androgynous, something you didn’t often get to see in your everyday life. He was a man and yet his confidence in his femininity excited you. Not to mention the fact that a sex therapist had to be skilled in ways that Kun just wasn’t.

“Baby?”  

Your thoughts were interrupted when Kun called you by one of your many pet names.

You looked over to your boyfriend who was slowly inching his way towards you on the couch.  

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do?” he playfully taunted.

“Maybe,” you teased back, softly biting your lower lip.  

“I mean, why else would you be wearing something so naughty underneath such an innocent looking dress?”

You chuckled at his boldness and he quickly grabbed at your waist.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You gasped as Kun’s lips made their way to your neck, immediately finding your sweet spot.  

His hands moved under your dress. You lifted up your arms allowing him to lift the dress off of your frame.

“You look so beautiful,” Kun complimented, gazing upon you in your lingerie  

You were extremely turned on and you didn’t know if it was because your boyfriend was starting to act more confident or if it was because of Ten...

You brushed away your thoughts so that you could enjoy your boyfriend’s touch, easing into it.  

You lifted his shirt off of him, exposing his upper body and soon enough you were both just grabbing at each other in a desperate attempt to remove yourselves from your remaining clothes.  

Once you both were completely undressed, Kun was on top of you. His hands gently caressed your body, sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your lips.  

Your hands found themselves traveling down Kun’s happy trail (Yeah he has one, we all saw it), only to find something not so happy.  

“You’re soft.”  

“What?”  

Kun looked down at his member.  

“Just give it a second,” Kun commented before his lips returned to yours.  

In your peripheral vision, you could see Kun’s arms moving as they pumped his length,  

“Ummm...” you started.

“No baby, I’m fine. This is really hot,” he promised, starting to sound a little panicked.

“Not if you have to try this hard to get hard,”  

You were filled with hurt when you’d much rather be filled with something else.  

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” you asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe you could suck it?”  

That was the least sexy request for a blow job you had ever heard, but at this point, you just wanted to get back to how you were feeling only moments prior.  

You did everything you could think of. You made eye contact, you played with yourself, you slapped the head of his cock against your perky tits, but all to no avail, he wasn’t even close to being hard.  

You felt like you could cry.

“Is it me?”

“What?”

“Is it me? Am I not attractive or-”

Kun’s face went from panicked, to even more panicked. He quickly kneeled down so that he was at eye level with you.

“No! Of course not! You’re perfect. I’m just-”

“Just what, Kun?” you nearly shouted.

You felt bad because you knew that he was probably just as unhappy with the situation as you were, but you couldn’t stand it anymore. Things weren’t getting better; they were getting worse. At first, he couldn’t make you cum, then neither of you could cum and now he couldn’t even get hard.  

You both felt pathetic.  

“I think I should just go home.”  

You started to put your dress back on. Kun wanted to stop you, but he didn’t know what he could do to make things better, so he just watched you get dressed. He followed you as you made your way back to the closet to retrieve your cardigan. He wanted to say something, anything to make what just happened a little less mortifying, but what could he say?

“I’ll text you when I get home,”  

“Oh, okay,” he meekly responded as you closed the door behind you.

<><><><><><>

“Hey, how did it go?” Ten asked as he closed the front door and walked into the living room where Kun was lying on the couch.  

Kun sat up and sighed, not intending to be as loud as he was.  

“That bad, huh?” Ten sat down on the couch and lifted his feet onto the low table that sat in front of them.  

“You have no idea,” Kun groaned.  

“What do you mean? Her dress strap accidentally fell down while I was taking her coat, so I assumed that you both were gonna.... you know,” Ten winked at his roommate.  

Ten looked down at the table his feet were resting on and spotted a half empty bottle of soju and several empty bottles of Cass beer.  

“Dude, are you okay? Did you two break up or something?”  

Kun drunkenly rolled his head so that he could look at Ten.  

“Why are you here? I thought you wouldn’t get back until the morning.”  

“Kun, it’s 4 am,” Ten responded.  

“Can I tell you something?” Kun asked, ignoring Ten’s declaration of the time.  

“Sure?” Ten cocked his head slightly.  

“How are you so confident?”  

“Could you elaborate?” Ten suggested, not understanding Kun’s inquiry.  

“I mean.... after... well... I mean... after a guy... you know... does that to you,” Kun tried to explain his thoughts, but despite his dramatic hand motions, he wasn’t able to express what he was trying to say.  

“Do you mean after bottoming?”  

Kun leaned forward and rubbed his temples.  

“Yeah... after that,” Kun confirmed.  

Now it was Ten’s turn to sigh.  

“Do you wanna talk about it? What happened tonight?”  

Kun looked back at Ten, eyes watery but not quite near tears.  

“You know how I was telling you about how Y/N and I were having troubles in the.... sex department?”  

Ten couldn’t help but let out a laugh at drunk Kun’s wording.  

“Yeah?”  

“Well, tonight... it was worse.”  

“How could it have been worse?  

Kun dragged his hands down his face.  

“I couldn’t even --------” Kun muffled the last part of his sentence.  

“You couldn’t even what?”  

“I couldn’t even get-------” Kun muffled again.  

“I’m sorry, what?”  

“I couldn’t get it up! Okay?!” Kun yelled.  

Ten sighed again.  

“Kun, first of all, bottoming doesn’t make you any less of a man. Second of all, you were exploring your sexuality. Everyone goes through shit like that when they’re.... discovering themselves.”  

Ten moved closer to Kun.  

“And third of all,”  

Ten slapped the back of Kun’s head.  

“You can bottom and still be a top,” Ten laughed.  

Kun slapped away Ten’s hands.  

“I’m serious, man.” Kun asserted.  

“I’m serious too,” Ten retorted.  

Ten patted Kun’s back.  

“I’m just not... as confident as I was before... Sicheng. Hell, even ignoring the whole Sicheng situation, I’m still not confident about... you know... being attracted to both women.... and men,” Kun took his time as he spoke.  

“Like what if she thinks it’s weird? What if she thinks I’m just a gay man who’s not ready to fully come out yet?”  

“Bisexual men exist, Kun. I’m sure Y/N is more open minded than you’re giving her credit for,” Ten commented.  

Kun suddenly turned his entire body on the couch so that he was facing Ten.  

“Help us,” Kun pleaded.  

“What?” Ten asked, knowing exactly what Kun was trying to say, but still hoping he wasn’t.  

“I love her, man. She’s the one, I just know it, but I’m gonna lose her if I can’t get my shit together,” Kun blabbered on.  

“Don’t worry, I have no problem giving you advice Kun,” Ten reassured.  

“No,” Kun boomed. “I- hiccup I mean we need you Ten. What you do for your clients... We need you to do that for us.”  

“You’re drunk, Kun. You aren’t serious. You’re just freaked out right now,” Ten laughed but the humor was absent from his voice.  

“I’m serious, man!” Kun grabbed Ten’s face and pulled it close to his so that they were only inches apart.  

Even though Kun was drunk, he quickly realized his actions when Ten shot him a smirk causing Kun to turn away more than a little flustered.  

“Not so confident now, huh?” Ten muttered running a hand through his raven black locks.

“You can’t even handle having your face be that close to mine without becoming a blushing mess, how are you gonna handle having me intrude on your sex life?” Ten continued.

In that moment, Ten’s words lit a fire in Kun, causing him to pull Ten’s face back into his.

“You don’t understand man, I’d do anything for her,” Kun mouthed as he stared intensely into his roommate’s eyes. “Anything.”

Now it was Ten’s turn to get flustered. He pushed Kun away, causing him to fall back onto the couch. Kun instinctively grabbed onto Ten’s arm, pulling him down with him. Ten hovered over Kun’s body, having used his free arm to prevent himself from falling onto the larger male. They stayed like that for a brief second before realizing the awkwardness of the situation.  

“Sorry,” Kun mumbled.

Ten lifted himself back up into a sitting position, Kun quickly doing the same.

Ten’s hand reached for the back of his own neck, not understanding why he was even trying to convince his roommate out of anything while he was in such a drunken state.  

In one last attempt to get Kun to recognize the weight of what he was asking, Ten brought up another concern.

“Even if you’re serious, would Y/N even agree to something like that?”

“I don’t know. Her reaction to your job wasn’t very readable. I mean she didn’t exactly react to it nonchalantly, but she didn’t seem disgusted either,” Kun responded.

“Oh great. I’m glad your girlfriend isn’t disgusted by me,” Ten sarcastically spat out as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kun retreated.  

He watched as his roommate poured himself a glass of water.  

“I’ll ask her real quick.”  

Kun took out his phone and started typing something causing Ten to choke on his water.  

“You’ll what?” Ten exclaimed.

Kun ignored his roommate’s inquiry as he continued to type into his phone. Ten quickly ran back into the living room and grabbed Kun’s phone, hoping to save him from making such a huge mistake, but it was too late.

“Fuck, you sent it?” Ten gasped, staring at the message on the dimly lit screen.

Kun only nodded in response.

“Maybe you can pass it off as a joke or something,” Ten hurriedly handed the phone back to Kun.

“Why? Your clients don’t seem to think it’s that weird,” Kun contested.

“My clients know what they’re getting into when they call me. Not to mention that I’m a professional, not one of their roommates.”  

“Quick! You can write something like ‘Haha I got you, didn’t I?’ or maybe-”

Ten’s ramblings were interrupted by a small pinging noise.  

“Shit, she saw it,” Ten sputtered, seeing the phone screen light up.

“You’re so screwed, dude. Your only option is to leave the country and start a new life.”

“She agreed,” Kun blurted out.

Ten’s eyes bulged.

“She what?” Ten sat down beside Kun in disbelief, but after looking at Kun’s phone, his brief moment of denial ended.

Ten and Kun just sat there on the couch staring off into space, neither one saying a word to the other.  

Although Kun was the one who brought the topic up, he couldn’t help but feel hurt that Y/N agreed so quickly. He knew things were bad, but he had kind of hoped that she would try to talk him out of it and tell him that you both just had to try again. Your agreement just confirmed that the situation was as bad as he had thought it was.

The silence was interrupted when Kun’s phone let out another ping sound.  

Kun lifted up his phone to read the message.

“So….what now?” the message read.  

Ten looked over Kun’s shoulder at the message.

“Well, I guess we should start with me getting to know my new clients,” Ten sighed comically.

<><><><><>

You walked through the front doors of BDLI, a soju room where Ten instructed you all meet to talk about the details regarding the upcoming events of the night. It seemed like a popular place since there was no shortage of people wandering around the halls, but it also seemed a little peculiar. You noticed that the other customers were dressed very similarly to Ten, wearing lots of chains and leather. For a second, you worried that Ten might have invited you and Kun to some sort of sex club. The fact that Ten had instructed you to tell the host/hostess that your room reservation was under the name “KItten” did not help to ease your worries. The host was a black-haired man with a name tag that read Hendery on it. At first you thought it was a typo, seeing as the name was so odd, but you quickly brushed it off and told him your reservation name.  

“Nervous?” the man asked, smiling at you.

You looked up at him feeling exposed. Did Ten bring all of his clients here? Did this random man know exactly why you were here?

You nodded slightly, your cheeks beginning to flush.

“Don’t be,” the man continued.  

“Ten is a miracle worker, trust me. My husband and I were clients of his for years.”

“Years?”

The host could sense the panic in your voice.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t take that long. Ten basically fixed our sex life in the first session we had with him. We just liked him so much that my husband, Yangyang, and I kept going every so often just to rekindle our sex life.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you replied, not knowing what else to say as the man wrote down your room number on a slip of paper and handed it to you.

You had purposely arrived a few minutes late in the hopes that you would be the last to arrive as to avoid any awkwardness between you and either Ten or your loving boyfriend, yet when you arrived at your room number, you opened the door to see that Ten was also running late. You sat down next to your boyfriend. The awkwardness you wanted to avoid ended up being worse than you had originally imagined. Neither of you greeted each other, instead opting to sit in silence. You wondered if talking would ease the tension or increase it.  

Finally, Kun broke the silence.

“Are you still sure about this? We can back out now if you want.”

“I’m sure, Kun, but if you don’t feel comfortable…. I love you and I’m okay with things being the way that they are as long as you’re still in my life,”

Kun, who had been avoiding your gaze up to this point, smiled at you.  

“I love you too,” he spoke softly.

“Well, wasn’t that cute?” Ten remarked as he entered the soju room.  

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You could hear us outside the door?” you asked, concerned that this might not be the best place to discuss such personal matters.  

“Yeah, but only because this entire section is empty except for us,” Ten explained, putting you at ease.

“I always request a more private room when I’m meeting with my clients.”

Ten was wearing an outfit that, although still very dramatic, was a lot more toned down than what he wore the first time you met him. He wore black jeans that were ripped at the knees and a button-down shirt with a black, white, and gray design that resembled a granite countertop. He had a chain that ran down his belt loop and into his back pocket, probably attached to his wallet, along with a simple black leather belt. Compared to your boyfriend, who was wearing a simple white shirt, denim jacket, and black jeans, Ten looked like a model for one of those online stores that sell gothic clothing.

You wanted to ask Ten more about why he chose this place to meet clients at, but a part of you just wanted to get this over with.

“We aren’t doing this here, are we?” you asked.

Ten let out a warm comforting laugh.

“Of course not. If you two decide to move forward with this session, then we’ll move to a nearby motel that’s especially made for couples.”

“You mean a love motel?” Kun asked.

“Whatever you wanna call it,” Ten shrugged.as he reached into his bag.

“I’d like for you to fill these out,” Ten instructed as he pulled two sheets of paper out from his bag and handed them to you and Kun along with two pens.

“What are these?” Kun Inquired.

“Consent forms,” Ten stated as if it were the most normal thing in the world.  

“You mean like waivers?” you asked.  

“Hmmmm, not exactly. These are lists of things that you might be interesting in incorporating into your sex life.”

You gasped.

“Anal beads?!”  

While Ten couldn’t refrain from laughing at your sudden outburst, Kun looked mortified.  

“Listen, it’s just a list. I’m not saying you should try everything on this list tonight, it’s just a list of possible things to try, whether tonight or in the future,” Ten explained as he grabbed the list from you.

“You see these boxes next to each thing listed?”

Ten turned the paper so you could see.

“I want you both to go over this list and put a check mark next to everything you’d be interested in trying tonight, a circle around each thing you might be open to and an X next to anything you definitely do not want to do. This way, we can see which ways your lists overlap and make sure everything done tonight is consensual, understand?”

Both you and Kun nodded and started to fill out the forms.

“We should also come up with a safe word so that either one of you can revoke consent at any point you start to feel uncomfortable with something that’s happening. My personal fave is ‘cactus.’” Ten suggested.

“Why cactus? Why not just say ‘safe word’ or stop?” Kun asked.

“Some people like to taunt each other, you know? Like daring the other to say the safe word. It’s a whole kink in itself. Also, there are several times in which a person may say stop and not want the person to stop, the obvious example being ‘don’t stop,’”

“Okay but why cactus?”  

“Simple,” Ten smiled.

“There is no faster way to kill the mood without ruining it for the while night like thinking about a prickly cactus.”

The three of you couldn’t help but laugh at such a stupid joke.

“So, let’s get started with the details. Since every case is different, instead of explaining how the process works, I’d rather go over your questions and concerns.”

Ten looked at you and Kun.

Neither of you said anything.

Ten’s eyes moved to yours and smirked slightly. You had felt even more nervous than when you two had first met and yet it didn’t seem like Ten was teasing you. Instead, he seemed curious.

“Okay, it’s normal to be stand-offish at first. Maybe we should have a few drinks to ease into it,” Ten offered as he started preparing three somaek glasses.

“Just try to limit yourselves to two drinks each, we don’t want to deal with any issues regarding proper consent or whisky dick, do we?”

“Can’t you tell us a little bit about the process?” Kun asked, ignoring Ten’s whisky dick comment.

Ten sighed softly as he handed each of us a drink. Without cheersing, we all started sipping on our drinks.  

“Basically, what I’ll be doing if you decide to go through with it, is instructing you two on what to do, without really instructing you to do it.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Kun asked.  

You were glad that he was taking the lead on this, so you didn’t have to.

“It’ll be more like encouragement from the sidelines or showing you new techniques to try out and stuff like that. To be honest, it’ll probably be better if it’s more of a surprise.”

Kun looked uneasy.

“So, what are your biggest concerns?”

Kun and you looked at each other. Several concerns crossed both of your minds, but neither one of you knew where to start or even how to phrase them.

“Come on, I’m not going to be able to help you guys if I don’t know what I can and can’t do.”

“About that-” you started. “What you can’t do… I wanted to ask. You don’t actually have sex with your clients, do you?”

“I’m a professional, so no.”

“But we aren’t technically your clients,” you pointed out.

Kun’s eyes bulged and he shot you a concerned look.

“Baby, what are you-”

“I’m just wondering. Kun told me over text that you were doing this as a favor. I know that he’s paying for this room, the soju, and probably for the hotel room as well, but you aren’t charging us for your services, so we aren’t your clients,” you continued.  

“I guess you’re right,” Ten responded. “And I’m sure that Kun has at least hinted that I’m more sexually open in my own personal life than most.”

“Wait-” Kun tried to speak before he was cut off once more.

“If you two wanted me to join in, I suppose I legally could do so, but don’t worry. I know that isn’t why you both asked for my help, so I won’t overstep.”

You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at his response. You looked over at Kun, who seemed relieved.

“Any other concerns?” Ten asked.

Silence.

“Okay then, ready to go?”

“What about the consent forms? Aren’t we going to go over them?”

“We’ll save that for when we’re actually in the hotel.”

<><><><>

All three of you made your way out of the building. No one was spared from the awkward tension between you three. Ten hailed a cab, choosing to get into the passenger side so that you and Kun could share the back. You could see Ten mouth words to the driver, but none of them registered in your mind. You were too anxious. Your heart was racing but your mind was blank. You could feel the panic building up, but then you felt a hand grab yours.  

You looked up to see Kun smiling at you. He could sense your uneasiness and despite his own anxiety, he couldn’t bear to see you in such a state.  

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered over and over again until your breathing slowed.

He flashed you another smile and you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.  

The cab ride couldn’t have lasted longer than 6 minutes, but the anticipation made every minute feel like an eternity.

Ten thanked the cab driver and handed him more than the due cab fare before turning to you and Kun, motioning that it was time for you to make your exits.  

After that, everything felt like a blur. Ten handled everything just like he had been, and next thing you know, you were already walking into the hotel room.  

The room was bigger than you had expected. You imagined a typical hotel room, full sized bed, dresser, maybe a tv, but this was so much more. The bed was huge. You didn’t know that a bed could be so big and yet it didn’t even take up most of the room. You were on the 12th floor as made obvious by the ceiling to floor length windows that made up the corner of the room. The curtains didn’t seem that useful since they were made of a sheer grey fabric, not that privacy wasn’t already guaranteed by the height your room was at. The bed sheets, which had to have been satin or even silk, along with the mountain of pillows that rested on top of them were a tone of grey similar to that of the curtains. You wondered how soft they would feel. The hardwood floor was a colored a deep black that easily reflected any light that touched it. There was no TV, which surprised you since in every other way, the room screamed that no expense was spared, but this was still a love hotel, so that there was no use for a television.  

You were in shock.  

How could Kun even afford a night in a room like this? How much could it have cost?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Ten asked, “Would anyone like another drink?”

You and Kun, who had also been taking in the motel room, turned to see Ten opening a fridge next to a bar counter you hadn’t noticed until just now.  

You both raised your hands in unison earning yet another chuckle from Ten.

“Remember, the goal here isn’t to get drunk, but to get comfortable.”

Ten waved for you and Kun to join him at the bar as he started making three gin and tonics.

After getting yourselves situated with your drinks, Ten cleared his throat.

“We should talk about everything that’s been going on with your relationship lately before we get started.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Kun spoke up.

Ten turned towards Kun.

“We’re perfect for each other, it’s just about the sex.”

You kept your eyes glued to your drink.  

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with your relationship, I’m just saying that we should do some actual therapy before we jump into things,” Ten explained.

“Kun, is there anything you want to share with Y/N?”  

Ten gave Kun a strange look.

Kun shook his head.  

“I don’t.”

Ten looked like he wanted to probe further but decided against it.  

“What about you Y/N? Do you have anything you want to say?”

“Yes actually, I do.”

Your words caused elicited a panicked look from Kun.  

“I just want to say that I love you, Kun, and I’m going to do my best tonight.”

Kun’s face softened at your words. He took your hands in his.

“I love you too, baby girl. Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure, Kun.”

Ten just watched as you two stared into each other’s eyes for a brief moment.  

You were the first to break eye contact as you looked at Ten.

“So, what do we need to do?”

“Why don’t you both start off by telling me what you wish to see more of in your sex lives? You can share what you marked on your consent forms as well.”

You looked at your boyfriend. It was his turn to stare at his drink.

Taking the hint, Ten motioned for you to go first.  

“I guess.... I guess I wish Kun was more dominating during sex.”

Kun’s head lifted slightly.

“It’s like he’s too careful with me, you know? It’s like he’s afraid he’ll break me. When we’re out together, he’s romantic and flirty, but during sex, it’s like his confidence disappears. I’m not asking for him to go into full BDSM mode, but it would be nice if he could push me around a little more.”

Ten nods as you explain.

“Was there anything that you marked on your consent form that you’re especially interested in trying?”

“I guess the thing that stood out the most to me was the...pain play, specifically the light spanking and slapping, I guess.”

“How about you Kun?”

“Huh?” Kun seemed to have been contemplating your words.  

“What would you like to see more of when you’re having sex with Y/N?”  

A hint of panic painted Kun’s features as Ten directed the question towards him.

“No-nothing! I mean... not nothing... just... I mean... what I’m trying to say is... No... Y/N is perfect. She doesn’t need to change anything.”  Kun stuttered.

“It’s okay Kun. You can tell me. I know that I need to change too.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Kun brings his hands to your face.  

“You’re perfect. This... this is all my fault. You don’t have to change anything. I don’t want you to change anything.”

“But Kun that’s not true. I’m at fault here too. I just hope that it’s something that I can fix.”

Kun’s panicked expression morphed into a pained one.  

“What do you mean?” Ten interjected.

You took Kun’s hands off of your face and rested them onto his lap.  

“Kun struggles to... stay hard with me sometimes.”  

You were answering Ten, but you never took your eyes off your boyfriend’s.

“I see,” Ten commented.

“I try everything I can to make him feel good, but sometimes... I wonder if it has less to do with what I’m doing and more to do with... me.”

“Baby girl, of course not.” Kun wrapped his arms around you awkwardly pulling you into his chest.

“You’re perfect in every single way,” he comforted.

“But am I sexy?” You pushed him away.

“I know you love me, but are you attracted to me?”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

Kun stared into your eyes as he calculated how he should respond. After what felt like minutes, Kun broke the silence.

“I’m ready.”

“Huh?” Ten gawked.

“I said I’m ready,” Kun repeated as he got up from the barstool.

“I’m going to show you just how sexy you are, baby girl.”

You didn’t have time to feel nervous about the whole thing because next thing you knew, Kun had quite literally swept you off your feet. A small yelp of surprise shot past your lips as you instinctively wrapped your arms around Kun’s neck for security. He carried you over to the bed and laid your body down across the grey satin sheets.  

“Guys hold up. I don’t think we’ve quite covered everything we need to cover,” Ten insisted as he hurried over to you two.

“She said she wanted me to be more dominate in bed. I can do that. We can try the pain play too. What else is there to cover?”

“That’s not how it works, Kun.”

“Oh yeah?”  

Kun turned to face Ten, their vast height difference had suddenly become more apparent. You sat up and watched the two men in front of you. If you didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if Ten was intimidated by Kun.

Kun cocked his head slightly to the side.  

“Are you sure about that?” Kun growled.

You had no idea what was happening. Ten’s eyes were opened wider than you had ever thought was humanly possible. There was no mistake about it, Ten was nervous.

Kun turned back towards the bed. You couldn’t move. You were too stunned to do anything but gulp.  

Who was this man towering over you and what had he done to your boyfriend?

“K-kun,” Ten stuttered.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Kun's almost raspy voice went straight to your core.

“Kun I-”

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Kun cut you off.

“We came here to play, didn’t we?” he smirked.

Your stomach was in knots. You knew that this was what you had asked for and yet you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. If it was really this easy, then why did you have to drag Ten into your sex life? Your doubts about your boyfriend’s drastic change in character only clouded your mind for a brief moment before your body was suddenly being pinned to the mattress. Kun’s face hovered just above yours. His lustful eyes stared deeply into yours, taking in the view of you completely at his mercy.

You had never seen this side of him before. It felt like Kun had been possessed, by what, you didn’t know but you couldn’t ignore the aching feeling in the pit of your stomach.  

You turned your head towards the other man in the room. It was like you were asking permission with your eyes, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kun. Kun released one of his hands that held your arm above your head and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.  

“He’s not the one you need to ask, darling,” Kun instructed, reading your mind.

Every nerve in your body was on fire, the sensitivity was only heightened by Kun’s gruff and commanding voice.

“I-I...” you were too overwhelmed to say anything substantive.  

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Kun chuckled.

You weren’t the only one who was caught off guard by Kun’s surge of dominance. Ten could only watch as Kun taunted you. He had no idea what was going on with his usually shy roommate, but he couldn’t decide whether intervening would be a smart idea or not.  

Kun released his grasp on your chin to free himself from his shirt, revealing his muscular torso.  

Despite having seen much more scandalous acts, Ten couldn’t help but stare at his roommate as he stripped. Ten felt conflicted as he debated whether it was okay for him to be there or not. Although he had done this countless times, it seemed as though the realization that you and Kun weren’t like his regular clientele had just now hit him. His breathing was hitched, and his skin had become noticeably flushed.

Was this okay?

Ten’s feelings for his roommate had been nothing but a bother to him since the beginning. When he first saw Kun standing in his doorway, he was more than a little surprised. He had been expecting a college student to come by for a house tour, but he never expected that his potential new suite mate would be this fucking hot.  

Despite his best judgement, Ten agreed to let Kun move in. Ten wasn’t the type to admit when he had fallen for someone and he figured that his schoolboy crush would disappear as quickly as it had manifested, but he was so wrong.  

When he had left for work for the first time, he walked into the living room to find a shirtless Kun similar to the one who was currently sucking on his girlfriend’s neck. After finding himself too flustered for comfort, Ten started leaving later and getting home earlier hoping to avoid his new tenant.  

Once Kun’s classes ended, Ten could no longer wait for his roommate to fall asleep before leaving for work, so he surrendered and realized that the only way to alleviate the awkwardness was to actually get to know the guy. What Ten didn’t know though, was that getting to know his roommate would only deepen his infatuation.  

Kun was probably the most uncool person Ten had ever held a conversation with and yet he was a loser in the most heart wrenchingly charming way possible. Ten couldn’t help but tease him.  

When Kun drunkenly admitted to Ten that he was bisexual, Ten knew he had to make his move, but before anything could happen, Kun went on to talk about how his sexuality was causing problems with his new girlfriend, putting a stop to any hopes Ten might have had.

Ten didn’t want to like you. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to despise you, but once he saw you in your flustered state standing in the same doorway where he had first met Kun, he couldn’t help but see how perfect you two were for each other. He also found himself being drawn to you in the same way that he had been drawn to Kun. It was like you and Kun were different versions of the same person. Ten could find no humor in the situation, only finding the urge to kick himself for his poor taste.  

And now here he was, watching you both kiss each other passionately.

Ten had only agreed to this arrangement thinking that seeing you two together would extinguish the feelings he had for Kun and the attraction he felt for you both, but even Ten had to admit that his reasoning was flawed in every sense. If anything, Ten’s feelings were increasing tenfold. As strange as It was, despite literally watching you both claw at each other, Ten’s desire to be a part of your relationship seemed almost like a realistic goal. He was literally only a few feet away from you both, after all. He knew that he couldn’t expect you both to accept him, but in this moment, Ten felt closer to that fantasy than he had ever thought possible.

Acting against his feelings, Ten continued to watch, not allowing himself to insert himself into the situation unless he absolutely had to.  

Kun had stripped both you and him of almost all your remaining clothes, not once allowing you to help. The only thing that was left were his boxers. You tried to pull those off too, but Kun wouldn’t have it. He pulled you further down the bed by your legs, causing your upper body to fall flat against the bed. Kun’s eyes never left yours for a second. Every time you broke eye contact to glance at Ten, Kun would respond by landing a sharp slap to your thighs. The slaps weren’t too painful. If anything, they only added to the circus of sensations that were going through your body.  

It felt like you were the only one who was aware of Ten’s presence. It wasn’t too uncomfortable having Ten there, but it definitely added a whole new level of kinkiness to the situation.

Kun slowly inched himself down your body, kissing it along the way. Every once in a while, his teeth would graze at your subtle skin leaving small purple marks.  

Once he had reached your core, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them in place. His lips hovered over your folds not yet giving you the pleasure of feeling his tongue glide across them. He wanted to see just how badly you wanted him and oh god, did you want him. He couldn’t believe that it had taken him this long to see you squirming under his touch. Your face was flushed a beautiful shade of red, your uneven breathing only furthered his unquenchable thirst for your wetness. He knew that your blushing skin was probably intensified just by having a third party see you in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed having someone there to witness the intense amount of pleasure he was about to give you. He could tell that you were getting impatient, but he could also sense your hesitation due to the third pair of eyes in the room.

Kun gave his lips one last lick before finally diving into your folds. Your hips instinctively buckled into his touch. Kun had eaten you out several times before but never like this. It was like he had been starved and eating you out was the only sustenance he had in days. The pleasure came in waves, taking over your entire body and yet you still couldn’t focus on the man whose tongue was dipping inside of you at an ungodly speed. For some reason, you were distracted by a hungry looking Ten.  

You couldn’t understand it. With Ten’s line of work, he must have seen countless couples getting it on, and yet for some reason Ten looked lustful. He was staring at you intensely as he bit his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was actually enjoying watching instead of being there solely to guide the two of you. It made you feel self-conscious, but it also had another effect on you as well. You wanted him. You wanted both of them, at the same time and it killed you that you couldn’t have your way with them both.

Kun was too distracted to notice the longing stares you directed towards his roommate, and Ten was too captivated with watching you to destruct the meaning behind your eyes.  

Being watched by Ten did something to you. You could feel a familiar feeling starting to rise from the pit of your stomach. Something you hadn’t felt with Kun before, but you were definitely feeling it know. Your vision began to blur but you could still make out Ten as he watched Kun’s tongue take you over the edge. Your moans turned into squeals as you approached your high and Kun could tell that you were close. His fingers started to dip inside of your wetness as he pushed you past the point of overstimulation. Your hips tried to separate themselves from Kun’s skillful tongue, but he held you down as he pressed on. Your squeals were now screams of pleasure. The safe word had disappeared from your vocabulary and your mind was too far gone to even think of using it.  

Once your soul had returned to your twitching body and your mind was able to form coherent sentences again, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes staring into yours. They were lined with pride. You were surprised to find that you weren’t even close to tired. If anything, you wanted more. You started gripping at your boyfriend’s boxers begging for him to take them off. His prideful gaze turned into one of panic and you couldn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“N-nothing, I just want to do it again.”

“Kun, that was amazing in every single way, but I need to have you inside of me right now,” you begged.  

Kun looked over at Ten who appeared lost in thought. After noticing Kun’s eyes, he seemed to remember where he was and stood up a little straighter.  

“Are you shy because Ten is here?”  

Kun stayed silent.

“Kun, I’m sure Ten had seen it all before, and he’s watched us this far.”

“That’s not it...”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Your eyes traveled down Kun’s body, past his happy trail and saw what the problem was.  

“Oh my god.” you faltered.

“Baby girl, I-”

“Even after all that, you’re still not hard?”

“Baby I-”  

“So, it is me!”

If Ten were a cat, his ears would have perked up because that was definitely his que to cut in.  

“Y/N, listen,” Kun pleaded.

“No Kun, I can’t do this. You were able to change for me immediately and yet I still can’t even something as simple as turning you on. You’re not attracted to me!”

“Y/N, that’s enough.”  

Ten was standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at you and Kun.

His voice was gruff and dominating but not flirtatious in the same way that Kun’s had been earlier. It immediately shut both of you up.

Ten’s stern face only lasted for a few seconds before turning into one of exhaustion. He sighed before turning to Kun.

“Kun, it’s time to tell her,” he urged.

“Tell me what?”  

“Ten, I have no idea-”

Ten didn’t say anything, he merely scowled at Kun, but that was enough to cut him off.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, wrapping the duvet around your naked frame.

Kun flashed Ten a pleading look. The confident Kun had disappeared once again.  

“You know what, Kun? You say that you love Y/N and that you’d do anything for her, but you won’t consider opening up to her even if it might be the only way to save her the pain of blaming herself?” Ten snapped, earning a surprised look from both Kun and you.

Ten sighed in annoyance.  

“Ok, last chance. Either we are going to have an actual therapy session or you’re on your own, Kun. I should have never given you special treatment. Nobody gets to just skip out on the therapy part of sex therapy!” Ten shouted.

Kun and you looked at each other.  

“Um... what is he talking about, Kun? What’s going on here?”  

Kun looked back at Ten, then back at you, trying to think of a way out of the situation. You could see the panic in his eyes but before he could say anything, you took his hands in yours.  

“Kun, please,” you begged.  

Now it was Kun’s turn to sigh.  

“Okay, but let’s get dressed first,” he finally agreed.

<><><><><><>

After putting your clothes back on and accepting the almost humiliating situation you were in, Ten invited you both to meet him back at the bar counter.  

Despite being fully clothed, you couldn’t look Ten in the eyes, yet for some reason it felt like he couldn’t do it either.  

Kun was just staring at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs.

“Let’s hop right in, shall we?” Ten suggested.

Kun and you stayed silent while Ten continued.

“Kun, I think you should tell y/n about what happened the night you two met.”

Your head lifted up, curious about what Ten meant.  

Kun took a deep breath and looked up at both Ten and you.  

“Take your time,” Ten instructed.  

“We have all the time in the world.”

Kun’s gaze left yours and returned back to his hands.  

Taking one last breath, Kun began relaying the events of that night.

“The night we met, before you had run into me, I had just left a hotel.”

You did your best to hold back any surprise from showing. You could tell that whatever Kun was about to tell you would be hard for him, so you didn’t want any judgement to show in your features.  

“I started questioning my sexuality a few months before that night and I didn’t really understand what was going on with me. I had always known I liked women, but I had started noticing these feelings of attraction whenever I was around a certain kind of guy. I didn’t really understand what these feelings were because no one ever really talked about how bisexuality was a thing, so I was afraid that I was turning gay.”

You nodded as Kun explained.

“One night, a friend of mine told me that if I really wanted to understand these feelings, I should go out and explore them, so I went to a gay bar. At the bar, I met this guy who told me his name was Winwin because he’d always ‘win win.’ It was a horrible line, but I recognized that he was Chinese from his accent, so I kept talking to him. It comforting having someone who I could talk to in Chinese, especially given how foreign everything else in that bar felt. I guess I also got a little carried away and had a few too many drinks hoping they would calm my nerves. I wasn’t drunk, but I was definitely not sober which is probably why when Winwin asked me to go to a hotel with him, I said yes.”

Kun looked back up at you, checking your reaction before going on.  

“When we got to the room, I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t really have time to think about it before Winwin started kissing me and taking his clothes off. It wasn’t until we were both naked that I had the guts to tell him that I had never had sex with a man before. I remember that when I told him, he took a step back. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he told me that he would be extra gentle with stretching me out and that he would go slowly until I got used to it. Of course, I was confused but when I asked what he meant, he just told me that he had never topped an anal virgin before but that he would try to make it as painless as possible. That was when I realized that Winwin expected me to be the bottom, something I definitely was not comfortable with, but Winwin had told me that he was solely a top. I didn’t know what to do at that point and looking back, Winwin probably would have understood if I had just told him I wasn’t comfortable being the bottom, but in that moment, I felt like had to do whatever it took to figure out what my feelings towards men were... so I agreed.”

Kun was trembling slightly but his continued his story. You wanted to reach out towards him, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt his story at this point.  

“It was painful, but that wasn’t what made it so horrible. It was like my masculinity was being taken from me and I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. I left the hotel room as soon as Winwin fell asleep and was planning to go home when I ran into you. I know I should have felt bad for you since you had obviously been crying, but if I’m being honest, I was comforted by the fact that someone else was having a night just as bad as mine, which is why I invited you to coffee.”

The room stayed silent for minutes after Kun finished his story. Neither Ten nor you felt comfortable having the first word after hearing Kun go over the events from that night.

“I guess I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know how you would react to hearing about my sexuality and also... I haven’t really been able to feel confident in myself as a man after what happened with Winwin.”

“You see Y/N? It’s not that Kun isn’t attracted to you, it’s that Kun has been doubting himself ever since that night, not just sexually but he’s been doubting everything about himself in general,” Ten explained.  

You had felt horrible. After all this time, you thought that you were to blame for your sex life but really, your boyfriend was going through something and you had no idea whatsoever. You had to say something.

“Kun, I don’t care that you’re bisexual. I love you.”

“I know it’s stupid because being bisexual/gay or bottoming doesn’t make anyone less of a man, but it’s different when it’s yourself, you know?” Kun sighed.  

You took a deep breath before responding.  

“Yeah, you’re right... It took years before I felt comfortable enough to admit that I was bisexual, even to myself.”

Kun’s gaze shot towards yours.  

“What?”  

“I’m bisexual, Kun. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was worried that you wouldn’t accept me if you knew.”

Kun got off of his chair and embraced you in his arms.

“What are you talking about? Of course, that wouldn’t change how I felt towards you!”

“Ahem,” Ten coughed.  

Kun released his hold on you to look at Ten.

“So, you’re saying that Y/N being bisexual doesn’t change how you feel about her, and I know for a fact that my bisexuality doesn’t bug you either, so why would your being bisexual change how she sees you?” Ten pointed out.

“Wow, it really sounds stupid when you phrase it like that,” Kun commented.

“It’s not stupid, Kun. Everyone goes through it. Insecurities don’t have to be logical, but you do.” Ten responded.  

“Now that Y/N knows and accepts you, you need to work on getting over your fears about how people will respond to you being bi or having bottomed. Oh, and by the way, you can be a bottom and still be a top,” Ten lectured.  

“Although you are 100% a top,” he added.

“How can you tell?” you asked.

Ten turned to Kun, looking him up and down.

“Oh, I can just tell,” he chuckled.  

“I don’t know if that was an insult or a compliment,” Kun muttered.

“And what are you?” you asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ten winked.  

Kun laughed before turning back to you.

“How could I have not noticed that you were bi?” he asked.  

“Same way that I couldn’t tell that you were,” you shrugged.

“How long have you known?” Kun inquired.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve always known that I was attracted to feminine qualities, but I wasn’t able to admit that I liked women until I was in college. If I’m being honest, when I first saw Ten, I kind of thought he was a bisexual’s wet dream.”

Kun and Ten shot glances at each other.

“What do you mean?” Kun hesitated.

“Kun, I love you and I will always be loyal to you, but Ten is so pretty and so androgynous looking that I didn’t know whether I was jealous of him or wanted to fuck him.”

I turned to Ten.

“No offense.”

“No offense taken,” He smirked.

“I know I should probably feel jealous hearing that my girlfriend thought my roommate was hot, but... since we’re being honest...” Kun started,

“What? No way!” you raved, watching your boyfriend rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.  

Kun smiled awkwardly in response while Ten looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

“What can I say? You’re a good-looking guy. Some might even say a bisexual’s wet dream,” Kun offered.

Ten’s eyes were bulged, and he tried to look anywhere but at you or Kun.  

“Well then, I guess you both are going to be alright after all,” Ten coughed still avoiding eye contact.  

“You know Kun, I wouldn’t mind you exploring your sexuality while we’re together,” you commented.

“What? Really?” Kun exclaimed.

“Yeah, as long as you’re happy and honest with me, I wouldn’t mind you having sex with other people, as long as I get to meet them, and they understood what was going on.”

“What do you mean?” Kun asked.

“Well... this might be super inappropriate...” you explained turning towards Ten.

“but I really wouldn’t mind if Ten wanted to join us every once in a while.”

Ten’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull as the panic in him increased.  

“I-I umm....”

“Maybe I read it wrong, but it seemed as though you were watching us with something more than just psychological curiosity in your eyes,” you smirked, enjoying how the confident Ten, was panicking like a child who had been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.  

Kun glanced at Ten who kept stuttering trying to come up with an excuse.  

“You know, looking back on it, you didn’t really give us that much direction. Wanna try again?” Kun teased having regained his confidence.  

After seeing both you and Kun smirking at him, Ten quickly realized what was going on.  

“Fine, I’m up for anything. You aren’t my clients after all, but are you sure that you both know what you’re getting yourselves into?” He taunted having suddenly lost all trace of the panic he had been drowning in only a moment ago.

You and Kun gulped in unison having suddenly lost your feelings of confidence.  

“Oh, come on now, you two. Cat got your tongues?” Ten challenged, lighting a fire in Kun.

“I’m ready if you are,” Kun told Ten in a voice too mischievous for your liking before they both turned to face you.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Kun quickly stood up and grabbed your chin with one hand, the other slowly moving down your back.  

“Hey, Ten?” Kun quirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes?”  

“What were the things that Y/N checked yes to on her consent form?”  

You didn’t need to see Ten to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Impact play, choking, gagging, punishment play, marking, bondage, being dominated, light humiliation, slight masochism, the list goes on. It looks like we have a little slut on our hands. Oh! And look at this. Exhibitionism? Tsk tsk tsk. No wonder she was so open to having me here tonight,” Ten cooed.

“I-I um, AH!” Before you could explain yourself, Kun had lifted you into his arms and was carrying you back to the bed.  

Ten slowly strutted towards you both, only drawing further attention to his catlike walk.  

“Do you want this, Y/N?” Ten asked, slowly licking his lips.

You found yourself struggling to answer. You were so caught off guard by this sudden change in power dynamics but that only excited you. The thought of having both of them together seemed so unreal but you couldn’t imagine letting this opportunity pass you by.  

You nodded.

“Y-ye-”

“Use your words, baby girl,” Kun instructed.  

“Y-yes, I want it.”

“Wow, Kun. I knew your girlfriend was kinky from the way she screamed your name earlier, but I had no idea she’d be this... Well, this excited,” Ten taunted.

“I know. Such a dirty girl, wanting to be with two men at the same time.”

“What do you think we should do first?” Ten pondered, tapping his fingers on his cheek in a thinking gesture.

“What would the professional suggest we do? It’s only fair that we follow the expert’s instruction.”  

“Hmmm...” Ten hummed as he took the spot next to you on the bed.

“Well, we can’t do much fully clothed, now can we?” he laughed.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Kun growled as he pinned you onto the bed.  

Ten stayed seated as he watched Kun do everything but rip your clothes off.  

As soon as the cool air hit your skin, your body trembled under the eyes of the two men. It wasn’t the first time either of them had seen you naked, but this time felt different. You tried to cover your breasts with the satin duvet, only for Kun to pull you out from underneath it by your legs. You let out a small gasp as your upper body hit the bed.  

“Don’t be rude baby girl, I went through all of that trouble to undress you just so you could hide that beautiful body of yours from our guest?”

“Isn’t it time you teach your girlfriend some manners, Kun?” Ten suggested, biting his bottom lip.

He couldn’t help but wear a hungry expression as his eyes grazed over your exposed frame.  

“You’re right.”

Kun lifted his own shirt over his head and there wasn’t much that you could do to stop yourself from staring and by the looks of it, neither could Ten.  

“You don’t mind if Y/N and I test out the therapy you’ve given us, right?” Kun asked, more flirtatious than serious.  

“Please do,” Ten answered, amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn with both of us,” Kun assured, taking off his jeans.

He was calm yet he was barely able to hold back his excitement and so were his boxers from the looks of it.

You didn’t have time to feel any relief from seeing the tent in your boyfriend’s boxers since all you could think about was how good his hands felt as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. You let a squeal fall past your mouth.  

“What’s wrong baby girl? We haven’t even gotten started and yet you’re already squealing under my touch?”

Kun loved seeing you wriggle underneath him as he trapped your body underneath his. His hands moved from your thighs up your stomach, past your breasts and stopped when they reached yours. His fingers interlocked with yours as he lowered himself onto you. His face hovered above yours for a brief second, his eyes staring into yours. The thought, “he looks hungry” was the only thing that crossed your mind before he dived into the crook of your neck.  

His lips caressed your skin, and nothing could take away the pleasure of having his teeth sink into your sweet spot.  

“K-kun,” you half whimpered half moaned his name.  

You opened your eyes to see Ten looking down at you as Kun attacked your neck with his mouth. He watched in amusement knowing fully well that you didn’t have the power to turn away from him. You could only close your eyes, but you didn’t even know if you could do that. Ten’s eyes were hypnotic. They locked with yours and although you were intimidated, you didn’t want him to look away.  

“Are you enjoying yourself Y/N?” he asked prompting Kun to remove his lips from your neck.  

Kun smiled in at the sight of your bruised neck. He could make out the outline of his teeth marks in your darkening skin. He wiped the saliva from his lips and brought his hand to your mouth.  

“If you’re not going to answer, then why don’t you use that mouth of yours for something more useful?” Kun growled as his thumb entered your mouth. He moved his index finger under your chin and pressed his thumb onto your tongue, forcing you to look up at him. You tried to turn away only for him to press harder.

Kun let out an amused chuckle. He didn’t mind if you fought back a little bit especially since he knew how willing you were.  

“How bad do you want him, Y/N? How bad do you want Kun’s cock in your mouth?” Ten taunted.

You tried to answer him, but your words came out muffled and gargled from the pressure on your tongue.

“Tho bag,” you tried.

“What did you say?” Ten quirked slyly.

“I wanit tho bag,” you repeated.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what the little slut is saying,” he continued.  

“Hmmm, well I guess she doesn’t want it,” Kun smirked.  

“Only good girls get to suck on daddy’s cock.”

“Daddy?” Ten laughed, almost ruining the mood.  

“What?” Kun demanded accusingly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, I just never pegged you for the daddy type,” Ten mocked.  

“I’m just doing it because it was on her sheet,” Kun explained.

“Umm, no it wasn’t,” Ten cracked up.

“Shut up. Yeah it was.”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, daddy!”  

There was a teasing whine in Ten’s voice as he jokingly called Kun daddy.

Kun’s grip on your jaw stayed firm as his left hand shot towards Ten’s. Currently gripping both of your jawlines Kun flashed Ten a devious look.  

Ten had suddenly fallen silent and looked almost fearful as Kun stared into his soul.  

“Cat got your tongue?” Kun taunted, repeating the phrase Ten had used earlier that night.  

Ten looked down before returning to meet Kun’s almond shaped eyes with his big round ones.  

“Sorry, daddy,” he mused, having started cracking up again.  

Kun rolled his eyes and turned back to you.  

“How about you?” he asked, releasing his hold on your jawline.  

“No, daddy.”

Both Kun and Ten looked at you in surprise.

All humor had left Ten’s face and a grin had made its way onto Kun’s.

You didn’t know why, you had never thought about calling any man daddy, not even your actual father, but for some reason when the word fell past your lips... it felt... right. It was like the word was made for him and him alone.  

Kun stood up from the bed. That one little word was all it took to have him pulling you up by the arm and pushing you down in front of him. Falling to your knees, your hands found themselves grabbing his thighs in order to keep you from going too far forward. Finding your composure, you looked up at Kun and then towards Ten expecting words of approval.

“Ah ah ah,” Kun tsked, grabbing a fist full of your hair and turning your face away from the raven-haired man who was still sitting on the bed.  

“Don’t look to him for permission. I’m the one who daddy’s little girl needs to get permission from, got it?”  

You nodded in agreement only for the grip on your hair to get tighter.

“Ah! I mean, yes, daddy.”  

“Good girl. Now what did you need permission for?”  

“C-can I suck daddy’s cock?”  

Kun paused before answering.  

“Hmm. I don’t know. I don’t think you really deserve my cock. After all, you haven’t exactly been the most well-behaved little girl, now have you?”

“Please, daddy! Please let me suck your cock,” you pleaded starting to blush from being the only one in the room fully naked.

Kun bent down so that he was at your level before harshly pinching one of your breasts with his thumb and index finger.  

You let out a yelp.  

“What do you think, Ten? Has Y/N been good enough to deserve my cock?”

“Oh, she deserves it alright, but I don’t think it’s from being good,” Ten responded.

“I think that that she’s been acting too much like a whore this evening and deserves a big punishment.”

Kun grinned deviously at Ten’s suggestion. Standing back up, Kun slid his boxers down his built thighs.

“Open,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, not expecting it when Kun slammed his entire length down past your lips. You stifled a gag as he hit the back of your throat.  

Kun’s moans filled the room as he thrust himself into your mouth.  

“Oh god, Y/N,” he softly panted.

You had blown Kun several times before but tonight, with everything that had happened, Kun was fully hard and you struggled to keep your mouth opened wide enough to take him in all at once. You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes as he started to thrust faster. You weren’t able to react when a pair of hands grabbed yours and held them behind your back.  

A pair of lips found themselves tracing your shoulders. Ten had managed to keep your hands restrained with one hand while the other explored your body. The soft caresses were more than enough to bring your attention to the building wetness that had started dripping down your folds. Once his teeth buried themselves into your nape the vibrations from your whines only worked to bring Kun closer to the edge.  

“Ah, god! Fuck!"  

A string of curses fell past Kun’s plump lips as thick ropes of cum poured down your throat. You struggled to swallow it all especially as Kun continued to shakily thrust down your abused throat.  

Removing himself from your mouth, Kun admired the strings of saliva and cum that still connected his cock to your lips. Seeing your fucked-out face made him worry about having maybe been too rough with his little princess but the way you licked your lips and stuck out your tongue, revealing to him that you managed to swallow every bit of his seed only made him want to be even rougher. He would also be the first to admit that he loved watching his roommate restrain his girlfriend’s hands as he fucked her face. Just the thought of it made him hard again.

Kun gave you little time to rest before he hoisted you back up onto the bed.  

You prepared yourself for what was coming next, but you were surprised when Kun had listed Ten up as well. Kun desperately smashed his lips onto Ten’s. Their first kiss was a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue but that didn’t stop them. Kun lifted Ten’s shirt over his head and arms revealing the soft but toned muscles underneath. He looked exactly like how you would have expected him to, fit but still feminine. He wasn’t as muscular as Kun in the least, but he didn’t have to be. His body was alluring in its own way. You had the insatiable urge to touch it, to feel his skin’s softness for your own but Kun was already engulfing his petite frame, leaving a trail of marks from him neck to where Kun was currently struggling to unfasten Ten’s belt.  

You watched as Kun practically tore Ten’s jeans from his lower body. Ten smirked almost sassily as Kun reached his boxers. You were actually surprised to see Ten’s length, you expected it to be smaller than Kun’s massiveness, but to say he wasn’t gifted would be far from the truth.  

Kun didn’t hesitate in touching Ten’s body in the slightest which was relieving to see, but you couldn’t focus on the progress your boyfriend had made in only one night since what was happening in front of you was way too hot to think about anything else.  

Kun licked a long strip going from the base of Ten’s cock to the head before taking the tip into his mouth. Kun swirled his tongue around knowing that in the past, he always enjoyed it when you did the same to him.  

Ten groaned softly, letting Kun know that he was enjoying the action. Before Kun could take Ten’s length further into his mouth, Ten brushed his hand over his cheek.  

“Small steps, okay?” Ten whispered.

Kun nodded before Ten sat up against the bed frame.  

They both turned to you, their shared smirks informing you that your short break had come to an end.  

“Uh oh,” you gulped almost afraid of the inherent lust that filled their gazes.  

Their eyes drifted over your nervous figure. Your disheveled state only added to their wanting.  

Ten couldn’t help but think of this as one of the most beautiful sights he had ever laid eyes on. He could only Imagine what you would look like bouncing on Kun’s thick cock, but Kun had his own plans.

Kun grabs your waist and instructs you to turn over. With your arms keeping your body steady and your ass up, Kun positions himself at your entrance. Soft mewls escape your mouth as he rubs the head of his cock against your clit only dipping far enough past your folds to wet the tip.  

You whine in frustration at his teasing actions only to earn a harsh slap on your ass.

“Aaahhh,” you hissed, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The stinging sensations that lingered only added to the aching you felt. The need to be filled was almost overwhelming, yet you knew complaining would only prolong your feelings of emptiness.

“Please, Kun,” you whimper.  

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you begged.

Kun paused, reveling in your needy state.

“Please Kun. I need you. I need you inside of me. I want to feel you. I’ll do anything. Please!”

“Hmmm. I don’t know,” he mused.

Desperate to feel any form of relief, your hand snaked its way to your twitching womanhood, only for Ten to pull both of your arms out from under you, your face now pressed into the pillow. Kun lands yet another slap onto your ass, this one stinging more than the first.  

“Wanna try that again sweetheart?” Kun asked, almost daring you to defy him, to see what would happen if you did.  

“Your breathing was uneven. The frustration was starting to take over.

“Please, Kun. Please!” you cried, tears starting to fall down your cheeks.  

Kun felt conflicted. One on hand, he hated to see his baby girl cry, but on the other, he had never seen you this needy for his cock before.  

Without any warning, Kun slammed his entire length into your tight cunt. Your mind, which had been going crazy out of frustration, was now more fragmented and useless than you had ever thought possible.

Kun’s nails dug into the bright red marks that were covering your ass cheeks. Ten groaned at the sight of you turning into a moaning mess as Kun fucked you in front of him, your tits bouncing wildly with each thrust. It was all too much for him, he had seen some kinky shit, but just the thought of getting to have a turn with you both made everything feel so much more elated. He couldn’t help himself.

“Come on Kun, is that all you got?” Ten teased.  

“I thought you were daddy Kun, not mommy Kun!”

Motivated by Ten’s playful words, Kun picked you up by your arms and moved both of your bodies so that you were lying on top of Kun while he continued to thrust into you even harder. Your moans which had not been quiet in the least had suddenly turned into a mixture of whimpers and screams.

“How does it feel, Y/N?” Ten asked, now focusing on you.  

His voice was innocent but the look on his face could have gone come from a demon.

“How does it feel being fucked by daddy’s cock?”

“I-it... it feels.”

“He asked you a question, baby girl. Answer it,” Kun ordered, increasing intensity.  

The sound of his skin slapping into yours should have been enough to wake any possible neighbors even with the soundproof walls, but you didn’t care. Your mind was gone at this point, but your voice was anything but. Fireworks filled the pit of your stomach and your arousal was dripping down your thighs, covering Kun’s cock with your essence. Nothing could you stop you from reaching your high except Kun stopping. You knew you needed to answer him, but you didn’t know if you were even capable of doing so. The closer you got to your release the farther gone you felt. Even if it took all of your energy, you knew what you had to do.  

That was.. until Ten had positioned himself in between your and Kun’s legs. You were unaware of this sudden change in position until Ten’s tongue met your clit. An electric shock moved through you as Ten started bobbing his head so that he could lick both you and Kun simultaneously.  

“IT FEELS.... SO G-”

The insane amounts of pleasure clouded your mind and you swore you could see stars. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or silent and you didn’t care. Let the neighbors hear. Let the whole world hear how amazing you feel.  

The last sensations you remembered was the uncontrollable shaking of your body and the black dots that filled your vision.  

<><><><><><>

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Your eyes opened to see both Kun and Ten staring down at you.  

“W-what happened?”  

“You passed out,” Ten answered matter of factly.

Kun, who looked significantly more worried than Ten, took you in for a hug.  

“Oh thank god, you’re alright.”

“I told you she would be fine. This kind of thing happens all the time. You know, you should really be more proud and less worried,” Ten sighed, handing you a bottle of water from the bar fridge.  

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Ten.  

“Are you sure you’re okay baby girl? I’ll take you to the hospital, just say the word.”

“I’m fine, Kun. I’m just tired. What happened after I passed out?”

“This one freaked out,” Ten relayed, pointing at Kun.

“He was so worried, he though he broke you with his dick even though, if anything, I broke you with my tongue.”

“You didn’t finish without me?”

Ten and Kun shared a smile before turning back to me.

“Of course not,” Kun assured.

“Yeah to be honest, it would be kind of weird if we kept going with you passed out on the bed,” Ten joked.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized.

“Don’t be,” Ten laughed.

“We made a lot of progress tonight and besides, anything we didn’t do tonight we can explore next time.”

“Next time?” you and Kun asked in unison.

Ten’s smile faltered slightly.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I just assumed.”

“No!” Kun and you shouted.

“We would love for there to be a next time,” Kun mumbled, having suddenly become shy.

“That is... if you’ll have us,” you finished.  

Ten put his hand to his chin as if he were seriously thinking about it.

Neither you nor Kun could help but feel anxiety awaiting his response.  

“Yeah sure, why not?” Ten answered finally.  

You wrapped your arms around Ten and pulled him back onto the bed with you and Kun.  

“I mean it wasn’t that bad, I guess. Kun could have performed a bit better,” Ten taunted as Kun punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Nothing,” Kun smirked before wrapping his arms around the two most important people in his life.  

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Between the Ink and Papers Ch. 7

Summary: Steve and Peggy have been divorced for a year and Sarah is still starting to find her groove in it. However, it becomes a lot easier when she and Typhanie realize it might be time for her dad to start dating again.

Pairings: tattooartist!dad!Steve x Reader, Typhanie x Sarah, Peggy x Logan, Bucky x Natasha

Between the Ink and Papers Masterlist - Masterlist to Other Works

Word Count: 1691

Warnings: Teenagers plotting

--

Death’s “Politicians In My Eyes” blared over headphones, threatening to deafen her poor ears. Not that she cared. Instead, Typhanie twirled around the kitchen and rocked from one foot to the other while waiting for the toaster to finish its attack on her poor bagel.

However, the awesome 70’s song grew quiet when her headphones were tugged off her head. She spun around, grinning when Sam held out her very burnt bagel. “Eating this will kill you.”

“Life’s all about risks.” She snatched the food right out of his hand, taking a bite before grabbing a Fanta from the fridge.

“Why’re you in such a rush?” Sam grabbed her backpack from the kitchen table, holding it out of her reach as Typhanie paused her song.

“I have a meeting with the school counselor.” With a mouth full of bagel, she shoved the last of her papers into a messy stack and shuffled them until they resembled something akin to order. Then, turning to her dad, Typhanie held out her hand. “Backpack, please.”

Sam silently raised a brow, waiting for some sort of elaboration. When none came, he shook his head and handed it over. “Be safe! And let me know if you’re hanging with Sarah after school.”

Already out the door, a muffled “got it” was the only sign she heard him.

He chuckled, looking out the window. His crazy teenager grabbed her skateboard and was already taking off. The pep in her step never wavered and god, he loved to see her smile like that. Sam pulled out his phone, taking a second to glance at the time before he muttered a soft, “Shit!”

It looked like his kid would be early, but Sam would mostly definitely be late.

--

“Ms. Y/L/N! Ms. Y/L/N!”

Y/N looked up to her open door, wondering who would be shouting her name this early in the morning. She caught sight of Typhanie sliding past the door and immediately scrambled to her feet. “Typhanie?” Y/N poked her head out as Typhanie kicked up her skateboard and tucked it under her arm. There was a giddiness to the teenager, something Y/N saw so rarely in the students she worked with. It made her smile. “You’re here because of our conversation, right?”

“Y – Yeah. I just have Speech and Debate practice later, so this is really the best time.”

Y/N’s smile faltered. Concerned, she asked, “What other school activities are you a part of?”

“Um…” Typhanie’s brow scrunched as her teeth caught her lip. “Band and StuCo. Plus I take duel credit where I can and Mr. Rogers hired me to help out at the shop when I have the time.”

“Wow.” Y/N leaned against her desk, hands braced against the edge. “Typhanie, I’ve looked at your grades. That and what you just told me, you’re doing amazing. I’m not sure why you’re worried about college. If anything, I’d be worried you’re overworking yourself.”

“I can manage this last year. That’s not a problem for me, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, you mentioned.” Y/N walked around the table and flipped through her notes. “You’re worried about affording it, right?”

Typhanie nodded, sitting on the arm of the nearest chair. “Dad tries his best and I love him for it. I just – “ She swallowed the lump in her throat, twisting one of the many rings around her fingers. “I want to ease any sort of financial burden if there would be one.”

Y/N watched her carefully. She loved Typhanie’s determination. Her drive was impeccable. She knew exactly what she wanted and she wasn’t going to let anything get in her way. Nodding, Y/N pulled a file out of one of the desk drawers. “Then, let’s see what we can do, hm?”

--

Sarah had been hopeful ever since she and her dad had spoken about her anger. The fact that he believed in her, in Ms. Y/L/N helping them work through this, it brought a pep to her step that even her teachers noticed. They knew better than to question her about it. After all, no one wanted to be the reason for its disappearance.

However, the one person she wanted to talk to about it was Typhanie. And the girl was no where to be found this morning!

She had tried catching her at Sam’s, but she wasn’t there. Tried seeing if she’d be at the subway and there was no luck. Tried and tried and tried.

So there she was, totally surprised to find her girlfriend leaving her counselor’s office.

Definitely not something she expected to see today.

“Hey.” Concern etched her features. The pep wavered just a moment as Sarah approached Typhanie. She wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that Typhanie had a bunch of papers in hand or that she was smiling.

Girlfriend + Counselor = Concern.

That was all there was to it for Sarah. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” Sarah’s eyes flitted from her to Y/N who was pouring herself a cup of coffee and back.

Typhanie was already laughing. Sarah was too much like her dad. Protective and asking the wrong questions. “I’m fine,” she assured. “Ms. Y/L/N was just helping me with…” She shrugged, fiddling with the papers.

Sarah’s eyes drifted to the stack. On top, a list of colleges and scholarship opportunities. The wires finally connected in Sarah’s head. “You finally talked to her about college.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be. “Oh my god, you finally did it.” A cheek-hurting, face-splitting grin tugged at Sarah’s lips as she squealed. She tackled Typhanie in a hug, earning a startled laugh.

“Sarah! Oxygen,” she wheezed. But instead, she was only squeezed tighter. Startled laughter and an another attempted, “Sarah,” and yet still, there was no use. The bell rang, signaling the actual start to their day. “Babe, the bell!”

Sarah begrudgingly let go, making a point to give Typhanie that look. “We are not done with this. I swear, we are going to celebrate.”

“I haven’t even applied,” she reminded.

“I don’t care. As long as I’ve known you, this is what you’ve wanted. I’m not going to ignore it and nothing you can say will change that.”

Before Typhanie had a chance to comment on Sarah’s excitement, or even why she was in such a good mood, the blonde was kissing her cheek and running off to class. Typhanie stared for a long moment. Shocked. She looked over her shoulder - at the office that had given her so many answers. A thought crossed her mind. A rather valid one that had her wondering. Was Ms. Y/L/N was a bigger influence than any of them were realizing?

--

It wasn’t until lunch when Sarah and Typhanie actually got another moment together. Now, Sarah was much like a cat. Head in Typhanie’s lap, letting her play with her play with her hair as the much more responsible one flipped through paper after paper.

“I should’ve known you would go straight into the work part of it.” Sarah took a bite of her way-too-greasy cheese pizza. A long string stretched from food to lips before she finally gave it a good yank.

Typhanie glanced down at her. An unbecoming snort made her shoulders shake when she saw tomato sauce splattered on Sarah’s chin. She flicked her nose, earning an adorable scrunch as she teased, “And I should’ve known you’d pig out.”

Around a mouthful of food, Sarah declared, “’M hungry.”

“She’s always hungry.”

Typhanie looked up as Sarah half-assed an attempt at peering over the table. “Cassie!” Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, Sarah swung herself around so she could properly sit up. “Did you finally get a break from that stupid boyfriend?” Reaching across the table, she stole one of her friend’s French fries and shoved it in her mouth before it could be snatched right back.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Stupid boyfriend is stupid ex-boyfriend now.”

Sarah’s nose wrinkled once more. “Gross.”

“I’m sorry, Cass. You want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, shaking her head and finally digging into her lunch before Sarah could eat it all. “Not really. Ned was a sweet guy, but there’s not really room in his whole friendship with that Parker guy.”

“Oh, yeah. Isn’t that the kid interning at Uncle Tony’s?”

Though the question was innocent enough, Typhanie turned to face Sarah. She pointed at her, a determined, “No,” putting a stop to any schemes Sarah could come up with.

“What?”

“Just no.”

Sarah huffed, shoulders slumping as Cassie giggled. An irritated whine left her lips, but everyone knew that Typhanie had won the non-argument.

“Jeez, you two are too good together. It’s gross.”

Typhanie shrugged, smiling. “I don’t mind it.”

“Well, yeah, of course you don’t! Everyone wants someone they can share – “ Cassie gestured to…well, all of them. “- That with.”

It was meant as a joke. Simple teasing between friends, really, but Cassie and Typhanie could practically see the lightbulb blip over Sarah’s head. “Cass, you crazy genius.”

“What’d I do?”

Sarah turned to face Typhanie this time. “Ms. Y/L/N really helped you with the college thing, right?”

Typhanie shrugged, taking a sip of her water. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And she’s helping me with my anger. She’s already met my whole family and knows their shit. Dad actually thinks she’s cool. In fact, Dad thinks she could be a huge help for us.”

Cassie waved a hand in the air, feeling very much like the kid in class who simply didn’t get it. “What am I missing here?”

And like always, Typhanie was quick to catch up. “No.  Don’t you even – “

“I’m evening. I’m going there. You can’t stop me.” Sarah was already gathering her things and getting up.

Typhanie had no choice, but to watch as the dominoes lined up and chaos prepared to unfold. It was then she saw it. That pep in her step. Excited and unwavering, Sarah headed inside like a woman on a mission.

“Typh, what’s going on?”

She spared Cassie a glance and shook her head. “Believe me, I’m not even sure I want to know.”

[wiener-soldiers]

how to (not) be internet famous - peter parker

summary: peter parker becomes internet famous overnight and doesn’t exactly know how to deal with it, which causes him to end up in a precarious situation.

words: 4k

warnings: rien, mes amis!

a/n: part of the unsolved mini-series! just wanted to write a lil blurb w some world building before i go into more ghost/ghoul hunting. also goes without saying that this is minimally edited, sorry lol

unsolved masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist! | faq

Peter Parker did not intend on becoming famous.

It was quite literally an accident—a byproduct of being in the right place in the right time. But, completely out of his control, Peter Parker helped solved an Unsolved mystery.

It was one of Buzzfeed Unsolved’s most viewed episodes; the story of Peter Quill, a little boy who went missing right after his mother died. Of course, one theory was that he was abducted by aliens. That was the joke theory.

Until Peter Parker and Y/N Stark proved that theory to be correct.

Being fans of the show, the duo was vaguely aware of the existence of Peter Quill, the mysterious boy who went missing. It wasn’t until Thor traveled back to Earth with the rest of the Guardians did Peter and Y/N recognize Peter Quill.

Of course, their first instinct was to interview him about how he got abducted and ask about some space stories. Their next instinct was to invite Ryan and Shane of the Unsolved Network to interview him as well.

This subsequently made the internet blow up. And Peter Parker became famous because of it.

The video titled “We Solved A Buzzfeed Unsolved Case” garnered millions of views overnight, with thousands of comments flooding the video. Peter’s Twitter went from less than a hundred followers to more than a hundred thousand overnight, and his Instagram blew up in a similar fashion.

He was used to Spider-Man being famous, but Peter Parker had never gotten that much attention before. It was surreal.

He found himself sitting on the brown leather couch at the Avengers Tower (where the Stark family alose happened to reside) the morning after the video was released, staring at his texts blow up in front of him.

Ned: Dude you’re famous?? You’re on the YT trending page!!

MJ: can i meet ryan and shane? also warning: flash and brad don’t know you’re dating y/n so their texts may be a little hostile…

Flash: Damn Parker, how do you know Y/N Stark???

Brad: Why haven’t you brought Y/N around?

Betty: Peter you HAVE to let me interview you for the school news! When are you free??

“What the hell is going on…” Peter whispers, jaw unhinged as notification after notification caused his phone to ‘ding’ out of control.

“Hey Pete,” he hears a voice flow into the living room. His girlfriend walks past him, not before pressing her lips to his cheek. His cheek warms at the contact and his eyes follow her pajama-clad body into the large kitchen.

“Did you see the video you posted?” Peter calls after her. Y/N shakes her head as she throws a banana along with other frozen fruit into the blender.

“No…why?” she calls back. “Do you want a smoothie?”

“No, but thank you,” Peter replies quickly. He turns his body to face her and raises his voice at the sound of the blender turning on, “It’s trending. Like, everywhere.”

“I figured it would,” Y/N calls back, the hum of the blender drowning her voice out.

“How are you so chill?” Peter asks her, slightly bewildered.

“There was paparazzi in the hospital waiting room when I was bored. You get used to stuff like that,” she answers, before making her way back to Peter, smoothie in hand. She positions herself on the couch, placing her legs overtop Peter’s lap.

He places his arms over her shins instinctively. “I’m definitely not used to stuff like that,” he mumbles, still scrolling through his notifications.

Y/N scoffs, “You’re Spider-Man, honey. That comes with press.”

“Spider-Man is famous, not me,” he counters.

The sound of the elevator opening and deep voices conversing cut the couple off as they turn towards the door. Tony, followed by Steve, Bucky, and Natasha file into the common floor, all deep in conversation. They don’t seem to notice the young couple, so Y/N decides to make them known.

“Morning!” Y/N calls out.

Tony’s head snaps up towards his daughter, before shifting and narrowing his eyes at Peter. “We were just talking about you,” he says, walking towards the two.

“Oh?” the younger Stark challenges.

Natasha lets out a soft laugh before patting Peter on the shoulder. “You need a public relations lesson,” she says to Peter.

“A what?”

Y/N lets out a fit of giggles. “It’s to make sure you don’t say something stupid to a large audience,” she tells him, and Peter scrunches his nose.

“Why would I need a…oh.”

Tony smirks at him before showing him his ever-rising Twitter followers. “Yeah, oh. That video you posted basically broke the internet. Even old man Steve is talking about it.”

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles sympathetically at him before handing him a grey folder. “Protecting Spider-Man’s identity is still your number one priority, right?” Steve asks and Peter nods. “So, we need to make sure you don’t say anything stupid or post something that gives away who your alias is.”

“So, what’s in the folder?” Peter asks the adults in the room.

“Homework,” Natasha answers. “I’ll help make sure that your identity stays a secret, but I need you to make sure you read that document very carefully. They’re full of general best-practices and protocol for if your identity is exposed.”

“Got it,” Peter whispers, mostly to himself.

“Great,” Tony says with a pat to his shoulder. “It was a funny video, by the way. Can’t wait to see what you kids come up with.”

Over the weekend, even though Natasha, Tony, and Y/N prepared him as best they could for the storm that would most likely ensue on Monday at school, Peter still didn’t feel prepared.

He stood in the middle of his room, gnawing at his lip and choosing between the dark blue sweater and the maroon sweater. Granted, the sweater wouldn’t make that much of a difference and hide the fact that Peter was still a big nerd, but he had a feeling he needed to make a good impression today.

“Babe, you are overthinking it,” Y/N mumbles from Peter’s bed. Like most weekends, she spent the night at Peter’s place. Although things do tend to get a little heated, most nights the couple just watch movies, play video games, or take a walk around the block.

“You’re not the one going to a public school,” Peter mumbles back. It was true; Tony had tried sending Y/N to Midtown, but the paparazzi was getting unbearable, so she took online classes instead. Y/N didn’t mind missing out on the high school experience—her life was so surreal that nothing could make her feel normal, except Peter or Morgan.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Y/N groans and rolls out of bed. She shivers at the cool breeze caused by the AC being blasted on high as she wraps Peter’s flannel around her body even tighter. “I meant that you’ll look really good in whatever you wear, honey.”

Peter rolls his eyes but turns to face his girlfriend, dark blue and maroon sweater still in hand. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he admits.

“Afraid everyone will look at you differently?”

“Afraid everyone will think I don’t deserve someone like you…”

Y/N gives him a soft smile before closing the gap between them. She peppers kisses along his shoulder, his neck, then finally his lips. Peter ducks down to look at her, wrapping his arms underneath the flannel she’s wearing and around her waist.

“I love you, ya know that right?” she whispers into his collarbone.

Peter hums in response.

“And the world doesn’t get to decide who or what you deserve. Because you deserve a hell of a lot more than what I can give you.”

Peter groans, “Don’t say that. You give me everything I need.”

“And that’s what matters,” Y/N replies. “Not what anyone else thinks. Okay?”

Peter pulls away and gives his girlfriend a sincere smile, “Okay.”

“Good,” she muses before pressing a final kiss to Peter’s lips. She then takes the maroon sweater from his hands. “Wear the dark blue sweater, I want to wear the maroon one.”

---

Despite Y/N’s encouraging words, Peter’s still nervous.

He’s nerves kick in as soon as Y/N has to leave his place while he packs his school bag. He’s nervous on the subway on the way to school. He’s nervous as he crosses the street towards campus. He’s nervous when he’s walking toward the school entrance, so much so that he can hear his heartbeat over the podcast he’s listening to. And he’s especially nervous when people openly gawk and stare at him as he makes his way to his locker.

Luckily, MJ and Ned are there to save him.

“They’re all staring,” MJ comments as Peter yanks his locker open and reaches for his calculus textbook.

Peter laughs nervously, “I’m aware.”

“You know that clique of really hot sophomores who won’t shut up at lunch?” Ned adds on as he stares at his phone, “They’re all thirsting over you on Instagram.”

Peter slams his locker shut in surprise, “Wh-what?”

Sure enough, Ned’s phone is filled with screenshots of the video on Allison’s Instagram story with the caption ‘hmu peter ;) or i may have to fake needing a tutor to talk to you.’

Peter gags. MJ snickers.

“Oh my god, this is awful,” Peter shudders as he turns around and makes his way to first-period calculus. Ned and MJ follow suite. “Don’t they know I’m dating someone?”

“Peter, if we barely knew you were dating someone until we met her and started handing out with her,” MJ deadpans.

“Speaking of your girlfriend,” Ned butts in, “are you going to tell her about Allison?”

“No, she’d probably laugh. And it’s not a big deal, right?” Peter answer honestly, smiling slightly at the thought of Y/N laughing her ass off at the thought of sophomores at his own school acting thirsty on main.

Ned stops dead in his tracks, “What if she was actually talking to you?”

“Ned, what—”

“Hi, Peter!” a high-pitched voice attempting to sound sultry cuts him off.

MJ laughs in amusement before walking away as Peter squeaks out, “H-hi, Allison.”

Ned pats his shoulder encouragingly before walking away, giving Peter a ‘you’re on your own’ look.

She bats her eyelashes at him, giving him a shy smile. Peter’s distracted by her bright pink outfit—she looked straight out of an early-2000s movie. It suited her, but it wasn’t really Peter’s preference.

“I watched your video, it was really funny,” Allison says, inching closer to Peter.

“Thanks, um look, I gotta go—”

“You doing anything tonight?” she immediately asks.

No, Peter thinks, but he racks his brain for an excuse. May is working so he can’t use her, Tony is at the Avengers’ Compound, MJ has art class, Ned is working on a group project, maybe Y/N…

It’s too late. “Great!” Allison quips, “I’m having a party tonight and you’re invited, hottie. I’ll AirDrop you the details.”

“Uh, thanks,” he mutters pathetically as she practically skips away.

It wasn’t just Allison’s invitation that stuck out to him; it seemed like everybody more popular than Peter was giving him some sort of attention. If Peter didn’t know better, we would’ve been flattered. Instead, he was suspicious.

By lunch, Peter had been invited to three parties, a football game, a boat ride, and more invitations to hangout than he could count. Even Mr. Harrington made a jab at Peter’s internet fame.

As soon as the bell rang, Peter bolted out of his English class and ran out the front gates to take a breath. Even as Spider-Man, public events often felt overwhelming. Now, with no excuse to leave and no disguise to hide his flustered expression, the few minutes of silence he had at beginning of lunch was the only break he got all day.

“You don’t look too hot, babe,” he hears a voice say. From his spot leaning against the railing of the school entrance, he lifts his gaze and finds Y/N Stark staring up at him from the bottom of the stairs.

He stands up immediately and meets Y/N halfway down the stairs. He smiles widens as he gets close to her, “What are you doing here?”

“MJ texted me—said you were feeling overwhelmed,” she says nonchalantly, but concern laces her features. “You doing okay?”

“Just not used to so many people giving Peter Parker attention. And the feeling that they probably just want to hang out with me because they want to be famous makes me icky.”

Y/N hums and reaches for his torso to give him a hug. Peter is on the step above her, so he wraps his arms around her shoulders and rests his chin on her head. “I know how you feel,” she mumbles.

Peter laughs half-heartedly, “Got invited to a shit ton of parties, though.”

Y/N chuckles into his chest, “Oh really?”

“One of which is tonight. Got any plans?”

“Hmm…maybe,” she tells him. “Dad wants me to be his plus one to a gala thing, but I don’t really want to go.”

“You’d rather go to a shitty high school party?”

“I’d rather do anything, honestly.”

A honk from a car parked on the curb catches their attention. Peter looks up and finds Happy peering his head through the window of a black sedan. “Hate to break you two up, but I really don’t want to be swarmed by high schoolers,” Happy shouts, “so we should get going, Y/N.”

Y/N sighs, “And, that’s my cue.”

“I’ll see you tonight, maybe?” Peter asks hopefully, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

“Maybe. Text me the address, but don’t bail on the party,” Y/N tells him before giving Peter a proper kiss. Another honk from Happy causes them to break away, followed by the school doors opening and more and more people filtering outside. A series of shocked gasps at Y/N Stark and Peter Parker in such a compromising position prompt Y/N to start walking down the stairs.

“See you, Peter,” Y/N shouts as she quickly makes her way down the steps.

Peter waves to Y/N in the passenger seat as her and Happy drive away. His phone the buzzes with a text from Y/N:

Y/N 🥰: hang in there bb, love you!

“Yo, dickwad!” Peter hears Flash shout from behind him, “Why didn’t you introduce me to your Stark friend?”

Peter sighs. This was going to be a long day.

---

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I want to May…it’s just that—”

“It’s just that you want Y/N there?”

Peter sighs and shakes his head. He sits in the passenger seat of May’s car as she’s parked outside Allison’s house where the party is taking place. He’s beyond uncomfortable: the girl who was shamelessly flirting with him was sending him DMs, asking him when he was going to show up to her party. His skinny jeans—the nice ones saved for special occasions—were still a little stiff because he never really wore them, and he’s sure he’s made sweat stains on his white t-shirt.

“I guess, I just want the high school experience, to feel normal. Even if it’s a fake normal,” Peter says honestly, fiddling with his hair in the mirror. “But everything is easier with Y/N around.”

“Did she answer your texts?”

“I sent her the address and she said she would try to find an excuse to leave the gala early, but I don’t know if she’s gonna make it,” Peter says dejectedly.

May nods understandingly, “If you want to leave, just send me an SOS. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Thanks, May,” he says before pressing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn’t feel his body move, but his feet carry him out of the car and towards the front steps of the house. He doesn’t realize he’s reached for the door until he’s already inside, looking around at the darkened house illuminated by colourful lights and blaring with music.

“Peter!” he hears someone call from the top of the stairs. It’s Allison, clad in a sheer top, lacy bralette, and tight leather pants. He tries not to gawk at her, but he gulps in nervousness as she approaches.

“You made it!” she exclaims over the rumbling bass. Without warning she pulls Peter into a hug, pressing her body close to his. His muscles tense in surprise, but he feels Allison shiver.

Fucking great, Peter thinks as Allison eyes him up and down, biting her lip.

“Do you want a drink?” Allison says, latching onto his bicep and guiding him further into the house.

“Um, sure,” Peter says as he tries to remove his arm from her grasp while still remaining subtle. He fails, and Allison proceeds to run her nails up and down his arm.

Someone shoves a solo cup in Peter’s hand, and he takes a few big gulps immediately. His powers can’t get drunk, but he can sure as hell try if he has to handle Allison’s not-so-subtle advances towards him all night.

“I’m glad you came,” Allison suddenly whispers in his ear before biting his ear lobe in an attempt at seduction.

Peter whips his head around to confront her but before he can say anything, she’s left him to chat with her friends who have been watching the whole interaction in jealousy and awe. Great, Peter thinks before wiping his earlobe clean of her spit.

The party isn’t too bad; a few games of beer pong are going on the patio and people are taking turns jumping into the pool in just their underwear. Peter makes small talk with some people he recognizes, but for the most part, he leans against the wall and watches Flash pretend to be good at beer pong. Every few minutes, he checks the time on his phone and hopes for a text.

At 9:15, Peter has been at the party for forty-five minutes and is on his third drink. He still doesn’t feel buzzed.

At 9:24, Allison checks up on him again and tries to get him to strip with her and jump into the pool. He declines.

At 9:32, Flash loses his third game of beer pong in a row and a heard of angry freshmen finally scare him away from the table.

At 9:47, he hears excited commotion inside the house. He doesn’t bother to look inside and instead stares at the amber liquid in his cup.

He feels a hand fall on his shoulder, and he groans, finally fed up with Allison’s antics. “Look Allison, I think you’re sweet and all but—”

“Who’s Allison?”

Peter’s face breaks into a huge smile at the sight of Y/N Stark, still in her formal evening wear. The dark green, straight gown falls to the floor and the simple dress is bedazzled by nothing except the gold necklace Peter got her for her birthday and the million-dollar Stark smile.

“You made it,” he says in relief and excitement.

Y/N smirks back, “I’m overdressed.”

“You look beautiful.”

Y/N examines Peter’s outfit, “You look good too. This shirt makes your arms look huge.”

Peter blushes but takes a hold of her hands, only half-aware that half of the party is probably staring at them right now. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Y/N laughs, “We were stuck in traffic. Dad wanted to get out of there too, it was pretty boring. We had to drop him off at home, first.”

“You left a boring party to come to another boring party, then. The difference is that you don’t get free dinner over here.”

Her laugh draws more attention to the duo and Peter finally finds the balls to look at the decent-sized crowd accumulating around them. He then notices a familiar face push through the people.

“Oh my god, you’re Y/N Stark!” Allison gushes as she approaches her, “Can I get a picture with you?”

Y/N smiles at her, “Um, sure?”

Allison squeals and shoves her phone into someone’s face, demanding them to take her picture. After a few photos are taken, Allison grabs her arms giddily and says, “You should totally follow me on Insta, these pics turned out really cute.”

Y/N looks amusedly at her, “Yeah, for sure…”

Allison then gasps, “You know Peter, too! We go to school together.” Allison then wraps her arms around Peter’s bicep and Y/N and Peter lock eye contact; Peter looks at Y/N in a state of panic and Y/N looks at Peter with nothing but amusement.

“Yeah, I figured,” she tells her, the amused expression growing.

Allison gasps again, “Peter! We should get a picture together too!”

Before he can really process it, Allison is pulling Peter close and shoving her phone in front of their faces. As Allison makes several different selfie faces, Y/N laughs softly as Peter smiles awkwardly at the camera. Suddenly, the feeling of lip-glossed lips touches his cheek and Peter raises his eyebrows in surprise and watches as Allison presses a kiss to his cheek in front of his girlfriend and what seemed like half the party. Her kisses trail down his neck, jaw, and ear before Peter finally gets over his initial shock and laughs awkwardly.

“Okay, um. That was kinda weird, Allison. You see, I’m ac—”

Allison juts her lip out and pouts, “But these were turning out so cute, Petey!”

Y/N Stark finally breaks out into a fit of hysterical laughter and both Peter and Allison turn to her with a bewildered expression.

“What?” Allison asks accusingly, thinking that she’s being mocked.

“Honey, he’s not interested.”

Allison’s jaw unhinges, “And how would you know?”

“Sweetheart, you’d be embarrassed if I told you.”

She scoffs. “Try me.”

“I’m dating Peter.”

Allison’s eyes bulge. The group of people watching the interaction gasp. Peter chokes on his own spit.

Allison’s face suddenly gets very, very red. “Miss Stark, I’m so, so sorry—"

Y/N holds out a hand to stop her rambling. “Don’t worry about it, love. If I wasn’t already dating him, I would be all over him, too,” she quips before grabbing Peter’s hand and leading him out of the party.

“E-erm, bye! Thanks for inviting me,” Peter calls back as Y/N leads him out of the house and towards the black sedan where the driver was waiting for the two to be done partying.

“All things considered, I would call that a pretty tame first fan interaction,” Y/N tells him as they walk towards the car. Her arm is wrapped around his torso as she leans her cheek on Peter’s shoulder. 

Peter’s arm slings around her shoulders and looks down at her face. Her eyes twinkle in the moonlight and her features are light with amusement. “You’re not mad?” he asks her.

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because another girl was kissing me in front of you. And that you had to out our relationship.”

“Not a valid reason to be mad, to be honest. She didn’t know, and our relationship was bound to get out anyway.”

Peter laughs lightly, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Y/N hums, “Yeah, I know. But so are you. And don’t worry, after a few weeks, the whole school will be a little chiller about your internet fame.”

A week later, Y/N and Peter uploaded a video where they went ghost hunting with Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes and it broke the internet yet again. Needless to say, the whole school was not very chill about it.

[daymansbingerecapsandrankings]

(Originally written on October 8, 2020)

🎵Bang, Bang Bangedy Bang

I said a Bang Bang Bangedy Bang🎵

My How I Met Your Mother Thoughts

I just spent the last nine seasons in New York with the gang that spends all their time in MacLaren’s Pub. SELF FIVE! I have to say, this binge of How I Met Your Mother brought me so much happiness. I started watching this show for the first time back in high school, and I ended up watching the last six seasons as they aired. I remember loving this group of characters, and now I am reminded why. There’s so much chemistry between the five, and it makes for one of my favorite Comedies/Sitcoms of all time. If you’ve read any of my previous Show Thoughts, then you know I’ve been watching several over the course of this lovely Pandemic That Will Just Keep Going. After this rewatch, I’ve decided HIMYM is my third favorite Comedy/Sitcom, right after Boy Meets World and Scrubs.

Now, I know that the Finale is infamous. It’s in the Mount Rushmore of Terrible Endings, and people end up getting a sour taste in their mouth when they bring up the show. Well, it’s been some years. There’s been time to reflect and look back. And, while I’m not in favor of the Finale, I also don’t hate it anymore with the passion of a thousand suns. I just loved watching and growing with the gang, seeing them experience their highs and their lows, their triumphs and their failures. It just hits harder as an adult, like most of these shows assuredly do, and I cherish so many of these episodes and moments.

And now, my rankings for the seasons!

Seasons Rankings

1. Season One

2. Season Four

3. Season Two

4. Season Six

5. Season Eight

6. Season Five

7. Season Three

8. Season Seven

9. Season Nine

My rankings for the girlfriends, purely on how much I like them as a character

The Girlfriends Rankings

1. Robin

2. Tracy

3. Victoria

4. Zoey

5. Stella

6. Jeannette

And now, a ranking of my favorite episodes. From 1-50, these are the ones that stand out above the rest. I consider every single one of these enjoyable.

Favorite Episodes

1. Slap Bet (S2E9)

2. Come On (S1E22)

3. The Limo (S1E11)

4. The Best Burger in New York (S4E2)

5. Ten Sessions (S3E13)

6. The Pineapple Incident (S1E10)

7. Bachelor Party (S2E19)

8. Game Night (S1E15)

9. Oh, Honey (S6E15)

10. Glitter (S6E9)

11. The Duel (S1E8)

12. The Pilot (S1E1)

13. Arriverdverci, Fierro (S2E17)

14. The Over-Correction (S8E10)

15. How Your Mother Met Me (S916)

16. Intervention (S4E4)

17. The Magician’s Code, Part II (S7E24)

18. The Autumn of Break-Ups (S8E5)

19. The Ducky Tie (S7E3)

20. The Best Man (S7E1)

21. The Leap (S4E24)

22. Blitzgiving (S6E10)

23. Three Days of Snow (S4E13)

24. The Scorpion & The Toad (S2E2)

25. Bass Player Wanted (S9E13)

26. The Final Page, Part 2 (S8E12)

27. Duel Citizenship (S5E5)

28. Happily Ever After (S4E6)

29. Farhampton (S8E1)

30. Bro Mitzvah (S8E22)

31. Robin 101 (S5E3)

32. The Magician’s Code, Part I (S7E23)

33. Last Words (S6E14)

34. The Playbook (S5E8)

35. The Time Travelers (S8E20)

36. Splitsville (S8E6)

37. Subway Wars (S6E4)

38. Showdown (S2E20)

39. Drumroll, Please (S1E13)

40. Front Porch (S4E17)

41. Twin Bed (S5E21)

42. Who Wants to be a Godparent? (S8E4)

43. Girls vs. Suits (S5E12)

44. Something Borrowed (S2E21)

45. As Fast As She Can (S4E23)

46. The Wedding Bride (S5E23)

47. The Bracket (S3E14)

48. The Sexless Innkeeper (S5E4)

49. Third Wheel (S3E3)

50. Spoiler Alert (S3E8)

And now, just some thoughts on the show and on the gang!

Ted - I know people don’t like Ted. I don’t actually like Ted all that much. And yet, I found myself rooting for Ted just like I did the first go around. He’s not the worst person in the world, and I would be scared to see half of the decisions we’ve made in the dating game stringed together into a TV show. I know people wouldn’t like me very much for those decisions. Then again, I also don’t get super crazy about details about buildings, I don’t pronounce encyclopedia that way, and he tends to stick his foot in his mouth with this White Man confidence that I just don’t have. With all that being said, I still find Ted being a great friend, a man who is just trying to find the love of his life, and someone who really drives this story with great tales and narration (Bob Saget is the Sixth Man of the Show for just always bringing it). I think Ted does stupid things and he pretty much admits it after the fact. He learns, sometimes, and also doesn’t much like most of us. When he finally found the Mother, when he finally found Tracy, I cared. I cared so much, and I still do. Even though they just shit on her character and don’t give us enough time with her, I almost wonder if that’s a metaphor for the fact that you won’t always have enough time with your loved ones.

Robin - Let’s go to the mall! Yeah! Robin Sparkles is a Canadian Treasure, and so is Robin Scherbatsky. She is one of the best things about this show, and I love her so. Played by Cobie Smulders who I need to see in more stuff, Robin is who we all wanted Ted to maybe be with first. Then we go through all the loops of the HIMYM roller coaster, and a lot of us still wanted them to be together. I was one of them. Yet, she was more than just a romantic plot line for Ted. She was a part of the group who we got to see join it and evolve into a member of their family organically. Robin is fun, loud, full of fun quirks that we get to learn over the course of the series. I was heartbroken when we found out she can’t have children. I was loving the back and forth between her and Barney (the first time), and kind of mad at Barney about being such a crazy ass prankster the second time. Robin shows us just how amazing some gun loving, hockey obsessed Canadian news anchor can be, and how much she cares for her friends.

Lily - Justice Aldrin ends up being one of my favorite characters, even if that gets some curious looks. Yeah, she left Marshall for a summer. Yeah, she had some hesitancy with the marriage and everything. That happens. Lily was also always there for her friends, even if she ends up going a little overboard. She wants Ted to find happiness, and does whatever she can to help. She is there to listen to Robin at all times, and her and Marshall are easily one of the best relationships in TV I’ve ever witnessed. Then we have Lily and Barney which is honestly super underrated. Barney trusts Lily, even though she can’t keep a secret, with all of his emotional problems. Lily is who thought Barney could change before anyone else, and I love seeing their friendship grow from eye rolls to eye tears.

Barney - Oh, Barney. He honestly brings so much annoyance and fun to the show. He’s the friend of the gang who everyone tolerates. He’s the one in the gang who everyone ends up loving just as much as everyone else. Barney shows such a terrible face to the world, sleeping with over 250 women and lying to most of them. He has all these rules that aren’t very ethical. He gives us most of the Misogynism in this show, which is definitely prevalent and makes the show not as strong as it was in the first watch. Still, we get to see Barney grow into someone who wants real love and a happy life. Sure, they show us that his marriage to Robin only lasts three years, but at least they tried. Barney just couldn’t make it work, and that’s honestly who Barney really is. A person who just enjoys sleeping with different people. I was very warmed to see the baby reveal and that Barney becoming a dad was what would change him more than anything. Barney is an underrated friend, and his importance to the gang is legendary.

Marshall - I. Love. Big Fudge. He’s just so fun, caring, goofy, loyal, and everything that I aspire to be in life. For some reason, when watching the show the first time, I related to Ted the most. I was definitely a bit more selfish then. But now, I see that I am a Marshall. He wants to do good in the world, and it drives him so much. He only loves Lily, and his loyalty to their relationship is just Goals. He is also the most fun to watch having a crisis. He gets the big eyes and covers his mouth and just gets obviously super uncomfortable. Some of my favorite moments of the show are also Marshall’s talks with Ted about his feelings for Robin. Any one-on-ones with Marshall and someone else are probably my favorite moments. And yes, I will always root for him over those damn machines!

Last Thoughts:

Sure, the writing wasn’t as sharp or as witty in the later seasons, but I loved the story lines and seeing the gang just live.

Tracy was an amazing character as The Mother, and I truly wonder what could have been if they had given us two full seasons of story with her instead of any episodes of Jeannette.

I really can’t believe Ted told his kids all those stories. A fun premise for a show, but really, not very realistic telling them all that jazz.

Ranjit and Carl are such fun recurring characters that I always enjoyed seeing every time they popped up.

Out of all the recurring jokes and gags, which there are many (y’all said Community has so many, but HIMYM really swings for it), I love the Major/General salute joke. Idk if I just didn’t care for it the first time around or forgot about it, but I just love how silly it is and how they kept it through to the very last episode.

Watching the gang sit at their table in MacLaren’s just hanging out will always make me smile.

[missnxthingg]

Got a angst request with Tom x reader. Reader lost quite a bit of weight and noticed how people treat her differently based on her looks and feels insecure and scared of getting closer to Tom thinking he’s the same as everyone and won’t like her personality

A/N: I’m so sorry I took too long to get to your request. It’s just that I started college this year, and it’s been really hard to write now, even though I miss it so much. Now that I’m quarantining, I get much more free time to write since I don’t have to spend two hours on the subway home, and there are many things that don’t take a lot of my time as before. But I’m still studying, and it’s still hard to write. Also, I wrote this for at least three times? Didn’t like any of the versions, but I liked this one better, and I hope you like it.

Words: 3.7K

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, low self-esteem and really cute.

masterlist | main blog | gif source

TALK TO ME

Self love is hard for you, and for years you haven’t been gentle with yourself and your body. Looking in the mirror and not enjoying what you’re seeing is the hardest thing in the world, especially when you cry your heart out about it for hours. It’s been like this since you were much younger, and it only grew up with you, following you through all your life, including when you started in acting. It became pretty hard to deal with your own body, and always having eyes on you, commenting about every single curve of your body.

That way you concluded that you wanted to lose weight, not because of anyone else, but yourself. This was something that needed to be done for your self esteem’s sake. It wasn’t like you weren’t eating at all, but now you were eating healthier and it even made you feel better. Trading late night burgers for homemade healthy food was definitely life changing for you. In time, it started to show differences in your body, and people starting to notice.

It’s so funny to watch people treat you differently once they start noticing your loss of weight. Before everything, your aunts were always commenting about your body, now they were always complimenting you. Guys didn’t even talk to you when you were out clubbing with your friends, now they were always checking you out. But the biggest difference was in work, and that’s the thing you noticed the most. Movie industry can be the worst when it comes to bodies, and it was probably one of the biggest reasons you wanted to do what you did. It was almost like magic, because now people really payed attention to you. In a few months, you were wanted to be casted in many movies and TV shows just because you were all over the media with some new paparazzi bikini candids during a vacation in Mexico.

But of course, haters never rest. Even though you were feeling much more confident, they would always be around just to tell how much you’ve changed and wasn’t the same person as before, because your looks went up your head. You went from playing step sisters and nerds to playing a mean girl in some romantic comedy. It was something you always wanted to play, but the industry wouldn’t let you play if you didn’t have the most perfect body to do it. You even dyed your hair blonde for the character, which was a boost to people that were already saying you were such a superficial girl now.

As said before, self love is hard, and when it doesn’t come to your body, it comes to your personality. Doubts were all over the place all the time, and now you were questioning yourself if you really were a good person, or that maybe they were right. That’s why when you got a new role as the main character in a sci-fi movie, you weren’t so sure if you deserved it. Maybe they only wanted you because of your new body, not because of your work. But you shook it up and face it with a smile.

You woke up in the morning of your first day feeling so nervous you could throw up. It was normal to you, anxiety mixed with something new always hit you like a truck, but it was okay. You had your shower, a good breakfast to face the big day of working and put on some comfortable clothes, you because you would change into your character’s figurine soon. You were nervous, but you had a little boost of confidence, feeling it was going to be a good day. But soon that feeling was shattered. It wasn’t like the whole day was a complete shit, but it only took some words from one of your castmates to completely ruin the day.

The day started out nicely, people were nice there, and you got to meet a lot of people you knew that were a big deal in the industry, one of them being an Oscar winner and the other one a big Marvel star. When you met your screen partner and love interest in the movie, you got speechless. His name was Tom Holland and he played Spider-Man in Marvel movies, and also was everywhere in Hollywood right now. And he was really pretty, showing up with simple gym clothes, a messy hair that was needing a little bit of cutting, but was perfectly showing his curls. And he had a pretty smile too, one of the prettiest you’d ever seen. But if there’s one thing you never let yourself get dragged into was believing that people were nice just because of their looks, because of you own life experience, but Tom was genuinely a nice guy.

“Hi, I’m Tom, it’s nice to meet you.” He stood his hand in the air to greet you with a big smile on his face, giving you a comfortable vibe to just relax around him.

“I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you Tom.”

“I guess we’ll be working a lot together now. Because you know, we have a lot of scenes together.”

“Yeah, Cassie and Liam.” He bumped your shoulder gently and you smiled, feeling something in your guts.

Your first meeting with Tom was lovely, and you were already loving working with him. It wasn’t the same feeling you got when you met the girl that was supposed to be your sister on camera, Oscar winner, Ella Turner. Of course you knew who she was, and you loved the movie she got an Oscar for, so you were excited to meet her. Your first saw her during your first makeup test. She was in the trailer enjoying some coffee and sliding through her Instagram while waiting for the makeup artists. You cleaned your throat to announce you were there, but Ella didn’t even move a bit. You pressed your lips together and approached her, tapping her in the shoulder. She turned to you with a bored face, looking directly into you, taking all of you in.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N), you must be Ella.”

“Of course I am.” She grinned and arched her eyebrow. “You must be the girl that got my role in the movie.”

“Excuse me?” You asked, confused with her response.

“Yes dear. I wanted your role, but they chose you to do it, leaving me as a secondary sister instead. I don’t know why, because clearly I was the best choice, especially to attract the critics eyes to us. But of course, it’s so obvious why they chose you.” She turned back to her phone, as if she didn’t care who was in the room with her. She took a break, waiting for your response, but of course she didn’t get one. “Because you’re the new girl in every magazine with your new pretty body. So pathetic.”

“Uhm, okay. Sorry to steal your thunder.” You sat next to her, avoiding eye contact. You thought she’d be more charismatic, but now you were only thinking about how jealous she was of not getting the role. Bad comments were something you tried to avoid all the time, but they always echoed through your head, no matter how loud the music was playing in your eyes.

So first day of work, not so great. You tried to get Ella’s comments out of your head, but it took three full glasses of sangria to get it out of you. The second day was better, and you had a really nice lunch with some people in the cast and crew, that including Tom, who was really being very nice to you. Actually, he was the one that invited you to have lunch with them, seeing you were so alone on set.

You got to meet many other people that were going to work with you, one of them being Tom’s brother, Harry. And lunch was really sweet and funny, it made you day light up a little bit and it made you forget that you were going to have a long scene with Ella, and she wasn’t better today. The key of doing a great scene in a movie was connecting with the environment you were in, and the actors you were acting with. Ella didn’t make it easy, and you had to do the scene over and over again. And somehow, when she was around, the whole crew acted different with you, like you weren’t as important, and that made you feel really bad.

You couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right. You were only there because of your looks, not because you’re good enough to be in that role. And the second day was the one that ended up with you crying on your way home and devouring your feelings in food. Not so great as the night before.

But third day was good, probably because you had many scenes with Tom, and he made you laugh so hard you almost died without a breath. He really made you feel comfortable around him and was really nice to you. Actually, he was nice to everyone around, but that day he really gave you all the attention he could. He even shared his lunch with you, because his brother made too many food for him and Harry.

“So, he’s Harry twin brother?” Tom nodded and smiled while chewing his food. “Your family can literally do anything! You’re an actor, you dad’s a comedian, you mom and brother are photographers, and your other brother is a chef! It’s almost like you’re The Incredibles.”

“I am a very lucky guy when it comes to family. I even have a brother that cooks for me! That’s just… amazing, really.” You chuckled and leaned back in the table, taking some more food in.

“I miss my family. Because I can really be myself when I’m with them, and work is stressing me out too much. Ella isn’t an easy person to deal with.” You sighed and he nodded.

“I know, but maybe we’ll get a break soon. And hey, maybe you can come over and have dinner with my family, they would love to meet you.”

“Really? I don’t wanna bother.”

“You’re not gonna bother them, and my little brother Paddy loved you last movie. You were a great mean girl!” You smiled and sipped some more juice from your glass.

“Well, thank you! And I totally kicked-ass as a blonde.” He nodded, with a smile.

“Yeah, you did.”

In time, you got closer to Tom, more than you could imagine you being close to someone, and you started to have some feelings for him. Of course it was stupid, but you couldn’t help it! But the thing was that you’d never been in a relationship with anyone, just because of you insecurity with your own body. And now that you were feeling great about your body, but self doubting you talents and personality, it became even harder for you. A guy like Tom Holland wouldn’t like a girl like you.

Tom, in contrary, was really into you as well. He tried to get closer to you, but it was like you wouldn’t let him in. He tried to hard to connect with you in some other level, but you were a really hard person to deal with, and he wished you could just open up to him a little bit more. You knew everything about him, about his family, where he was from, what did he like, and even his pet peeves. But he didn’t know anything about you, and that was really bothering him.

One day, you had a really long day of work. Ella was as difficult to deal with as she could be, and Tom noticed that she was getting on your nerves, and that you were pissed, and only wishing that she would just shut up. He was getting out of his trailer to go home, when he saw you getting out of yours with a big bag on your hand, that seemed pretty heavy. He rushed to get to you and caught the bag from your hands.

“Ops, careful there!” Tom mumbled, picking the heavy bag up.

“Thank you.” You blushed as he started to walk along with you.

“You okay?” He asked, looking at you. You looked away, trying not to give away how you were feeling.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” You mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact, but your voice tone gave it all away. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I live nearby, and I can cook to you.”

Tom had a point. You lived much far away from the studio than him, and would take forever driving there. He was living so close to the studio that he was taking taxis to get there everyday. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were too tired to drive home and cook for yourself. Maybe accepting his invite would be good for you. So you nodded and he pulled you over by the shoulder, hugging you from the side. Being with him was very comfortable, and you wanted to let yourself go a little bit more, but you were still holding yourself back just because you weren’t sure if he would really like you just the way you are.

He asked for your keys and drove your car to his home. You were both living somewhere that wasn’t your hometown, so that led both of you getting your own apartment in Los Angeles. His apartment was much smaller than yours. It was a small flat, with one bed, a small bedroom, kitchen and living room, with almost no walls. But the furniture was nice, since the couch was really big, and so was the bed. It was pretty different than your apartment, that was a little bigger than his, and had many rooms, with walls and everything.

“So this is my place. Not big, but it’s cozy.” He said, settling your bag in the couch.

“It’s nice.” You smiled to him and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked, walking to the kitchen and looking at what did he had to prepare for them to eat. “Forget it, we only have one option. Pasta.”

“Sounds good to me.” You giggled, too tired to have any other reaction. Tom glanced at you and gave you a sympathetic smile.

“You should take a shower to relax.” You nodded, yawning. “And them, we’ll talk about what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing is bothering me. I really am just tired.” You said, walking to his bedroom.

“Uhm… Right.” He said, totally not buying what you were saying to him. “You can borrow some clothes if you want to.”

“Okay.” You pressed your lips together, looking around his clothes to find something to wear, but the whole ´place was a mess. “Tom, I can’t find anything in here.”

“Oh fuck, I forgot how messy I am.” He ran to get to you and looked around for some clean clothes, such as a big tshirt, sweatpants and some clean boxers. “I swear these are clean, they just aren’t as organized.”

“It’s okay.” You laughed and nodded, picking a towel that was folded in a corner and jumping into the bathroom.

A shower was all you needed. It was like the hot water was able to remove every bad thing from your body. Suddenly you were too tired, but still, all you wanted was to lie down and eat something. The house was filled with the smell of homemade food. The shower was quick, and soon you slipped into Tom’s comfortable clothes, that were much bigger than you. Slowly, you returned to the living room, finding Tom already serving your food.

“Uhm, this smells so nice.” You said, sitting in the couch and waiting for him to finish. 

“I tried a little something. I know it’s not something so great as when my brother Sam was visiting, but I still can cook for surviving.” He left the plate in front of you and went to get his.

“This is okay.” You tried it on, feeling the good and hot food on your mouth. 

“So, are you going to tell me why have you been feeling really down lately?” He asked, sitting next to you. You didn’t reply, but it was like he could understand your lack of words. “Is there something bothering you?”

“It’s just… I’m tired, and I don’t wanna talk about this, okay? Can we talk about something else?”

“Okay. Uhm, what about telling each other funny stories? That always light up people’s mood.” He suggested and you nodded. “So I’ll start, alright?”

“Make me laugh Thomas.”

“So, you know my friend Harrison?” You nodded and he chuckled. “He was sleeping with one of my neighbors one afternoon, and her grandmother arrived home right when they were doing it. He had to jump out the window and hide in a tree, completely naked! And I was the one that went saving him, but I almost died in laughter that day.” He was laughing so hard, that it made you laugh as well.

“Oh God. This is how much boy try to get laid. Just pathetic, but funny.” You pointed and ate some more.

“Now, your turn.” You thought about it for a while, but nothing popped on your head, nothing that would actually look interesting to him. “Come on, (Y/N)!”

“I don’t have anything interesting to tell you! Sorry.” You fell into an uncomfortable silence until you finished the pasta. “Tom, talk to me.”“No, not as long as you don’t talk to me. I talk to you about everything, and somehow I still don’t know anything about you, not even what’s bothering you.”

“Tom, I…”“It’s okay, really. Maybe we should just go to sleep.” He got up and walked to his bed, without turning back.

“Tom, please, can we talk?”

“If you want it. I’ve been asking you what’s wrong all night, but you don’t seem like you wanna talk to me about stuff. I’ve been feeling that stuff for a while, but I never told you because we never were so close or anything.” He shrugged and sat in bed. You sat in front of him, hugging your legs.

“I’m so sorry you were feeling this way about me.” You started, trying to look at his eyes, but he was looking away. “I swear I want to talk about everything with you, but I’m scared you won’t like me, just like the others don’t.”

“What? Everybody loves you (Y/N).”

“That’s not true.” You let a small tear escape, but quickly wiped it off. “I’ve heard during my entire career that I’m not good enough, and going through changes in my body only made things worse, and I’m worried you won’t like me as much as I want you to.”

“I already like you darling, and what you’re saying is just bullshit. You’re so talented, and so pretty, and I bet you have many good things to show, but you won’t let me in. I’ve told you everything about me, and my family, and friends, but I still don’t know much about you.”

“Can we start over?” You asked, making him look back to you, and you both found each other with tears in their eyes. “Hi, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I’m 23 years old, and I’m an only child, separated parents, I have body issues, and I’m not as confident with myself as I should, but I really like you, and I’m so glad that you’ve been treating me nicely, because you’re the first guy to do so, and I wanna open up to you this time, only if you promise not to completely abandon me after finding out the real me.”

“I cross my heart.” He searched for you hand, and your eyes, giving you a warm smile. “Just start by what’s bothering you.”

“She is an Oscar winner throwing things at my face everyday.” You admitted, and he nodded, tightening the grip on your hand. “She keeps reminding me that people only want me in their movies because of my body, and that everyone is saying that I changed because of that, and honestly it hurts so bad. I was try to overcome all of that, but it’s clearly taking the best and worst out of me.”

“I’m so sorry about Ella, but just so you know, I can feel that you’re amazing, and looks doesn’t matter. You know, I watched your first movie some day ago, and really, I thought you were even more beautiful back then. But I understand that you did it all to help you self-esteem, but I don’t think those mean things the media’s been saying about you are true, because you’re so funny and interesting, and you shouldn’t be afraid of being yourself.” He caressed your face, making you smile a little bit, feeling your heart warm up for the first time in a while. “And you deserve this role, and you deserve to be happy.

“Thank you Tom. I really appreciate that. And it feels really good to open up with you.” You smiled to him, giving full insurance to him that you were glad about everything that was happening.

“One more thing that’s not clear, but you told me that you really like me, and I was wondering if you really meant it.” He asked and you nodded, with an ashamed smile on your face. So you tried to hide it against his chest and he pulled you up. 

“God, I’m so embarrassed.” You mumbled against his chest and he held you, laughing hard.

“I really like you too.” He kissed the top of your held, making your heart almost explode. “And I like every version of you there is. And please, don’t hesitate on communicating. I wanna know everything about you.” You pulled back and left a smell peck on his lips. You kissed Tom many times on camera, but only a small kiss meant much more than all of those hot kisses for the movie.

“And you will, I promise. But right now, I need to sleep.” You yawned and he smiled, leaving another peck on your lips, pulling you down to bed.

“Come on, let’s rest, and we can talk tomorrow.” He brought her closer and adjusted himself to make you comfortable. “You okay?”

“Yes. Now I’m okay.” You mumbled with your eyes closed. “Good night Tom.”

“Good night, darling.”

…………………

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[rpf-bat]

Underground, Getting Down

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 14. Prompt: “Symphony”. 

You’re a flutist, playing in the New York subway for tips. Gerard watches one of your performances, and decides that his next single, needs a mad flute solo. 

Beneath the streets of New York, the subway station bustled, filled with people. Some moved up the stairs, towards the streets, and others down the steps, towards the trains. Everyone in the crowd was rushing on to their next destination. At the base of the staircase, you stood, playing your flute. 

Your flute case sat propped open on the tiles in front of you. A few bills already lined the inside. A young woman dropped another fiver in, as you played Bach’s ‘Flute Sonata in A Minor’. 

You lifted your face from the instrument for a moment, to call out, “Thank you!” 

The woman had already turned away from you, rushing down the corridor to catch the E train. You shrugged, returning your lips to the flute’s embouchure hole. Even the best buskers, rarely made someone stop in their tracks. The song ended. 

I think I’ll mix it up, you decided, do something more pop for the next song. 

You picked the Bach sheet music up off your stand, placing it back in your bag. Then, you pulled out the sheet music for Jethro Tull’s ‘No Lullaby’.  This one was usually more impressive-sounding, when you had your friend, who played guitar, with you to do the intro. But, he was busy today, at his day job at Starbucks. You would just have to launch right into your solo. 

Your fingers danced over the keys, as the music echoed off the walls of the tunnel. You found your mind wandering, as you played. 

I really thought, when I graduated, that I was gonna play for the New York Philharmonic, you recalled wistfully. But, the auditions for first chair ended up being competitive as hell. Instead of playing high society symphonies, I just play out here, for the commuters and hobos. 

It wasn’t what you had dreamed of - but it was a living. 

As you continued your song, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You glanced up from your songbook, and realized that a man was sitting, eerily still, on the steps. Hurried people were practically tripping over him, but he didn’t move, to get out of their way.  He stayed exactly where he was. He didn’t look homeless, you considered. His face was hidden by thick aviator sunglasses, but his clothes suggested wealth. He was staring at you, with rapt attention, as if your flute, was the only sound in the world. 

You found yourself blushing under his steady gaze, as the song concluded. You lowered your flute-holding arm to your side, and looked at the stranger again, curiously. 

“Bravo!” he cried, clapping, and jumping up. “You were amazing!” 

He walked over, and dropped a handful of bills, into your case. 

Wait, what? All of those are hundreds!, you realized, eyes widening. Who the hell is this guy?

He pulled the sunglasses off his face, shaking his long, dark hair out of his eyes as he did so. Your jaw dropped, when you realized you recognized him. 

“Hi,” he said casually, “my name’s Gerard Way.” 

“I….I know who you are,” you stammered, scarcely believing this was real. Your inner emo kid was screaming. “What are you doing in New York?” 

“Visiting family,” Gerard shrugged. “Well, technically, they live on the Jersey side of the river. But, I always have to stop by Forbidden Planet, when I’m in town.” 

“Oh, you mean the comic shop, on Broadway?” you nodded. “Yeah, they’re pretty cool. I….I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Gerard grinned. “I really enjoyed that song, that you just did.” 

“I….uh, really enjoy your music, too,” you said awkwardly. You didn’t want to sound like a fangirl.

“I’m actually working on some new music right now,” Gerard revealed. 

“What?” you blinked. “Really? Wasn’t your last album in like…..2014?” 

“Yeah, Hesitant Alien was four years ago, already!” Gerard chuckled. “I think I’m definitely overdue for something new!” 

“Oh, wow,” your heart hammered excitedly. “I can’t wait to hear the new record, when it comes out!”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna do a whole second album,” Gerard confessed. “I think I’m just gonna put a couple singles out, and see how it goes.”

“I….I see,” you mumbled. This was crazy. Why was he telling all this, to a random busker, that he just met? 

“I wanted to thank you,  Y/N,” Gerard went on. “There’s this song I’ve been working on, for a couple months now. it’s just not sounding right to me, quite yet. You helped me realize what it’s missing.”

“And, what is that?” you wondered, still feeling bewildered. 

“A flute solo,” Gerard grinned. 

“Huh?” you gasped. “Who uses flute music, in a rock n roll song? I mean, besides Jethro Tull?” 

“I love Jethro Tull,” Gerard laughed. “But, for real, it’s not that weird. Billy Corgan had some flutes on ‘Drum + Fife’, on the album Monuments To An Elegy.”

“Oh, true,” you remembered. “Didn’t that drop in 2014, too?” 

“Yeah, I actually got to open for him, on that tour!” Gerard said excitedly. “That was when I decided that I wanted to bring a flute into one of my own songs, someday.” 

“Wow,” you realized, “You’re serious about this.” 

“I am,” Gerard said, looking you in the eyes. “But….can we talk about this somewhere else? I’m worried if I stay in one place much longer, somebody is gonna spot me, and start asking for pictures.” 

“Oh, uh, sure!” you nodded. 

“I think if we go up to the street level, there’s a coffee shop, like, right outside,” Gerard suggested. 

“You’re…..asking me to get a cup of coffee with you?” you grasped. Was this a date?

“Yeah,” Gerard said, turning red, as he awkwardly combed his fingers through his hair. “Is, uh, is that okay with you?”

“......Absolutely,” you smiled. “Just let me put my flute away!”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard had insisted on carrying your flute case for you, despite the short walk. He was such a gentleman. You did not, however, allow him to buy your cup of coffee for you. He’d already given you that absurd tip, when he first strolled over to your busking spot. 

You stared at him across the table, as he sipped his latte. This still felt entirely unreal. 

“So, the song I’m working on,” Gerard explained, “It’s called ‘Getting Down The Germs.’”

“...Germs?” you repeated, confused. 

“The lyrics are still a work in progress,” Gerard admitted. He dug into the pocket of his green coat, and pulled out a small, tattered-looking notebook. He opened it to a page near the back, and pushed it towards you. “This is what I have so far.”

You took the book gingerly, feeling as if you’d been handed a holy text. The words on the page, were written in a surprisingly untidy scrawl:

It's never the same and the nights always glow

There's nothing to see and nowhere to go

It's easy to say you're happier when you're disturbed

The green lights in your head

Getting down the germs

I'm lazy and tame and the chimes always blow

A glimmering sound on the breeze when you go

It's never a shame and I've learned to live with the worms

Underground

Getting down the germs

“That sounds really good so far,” you complimented. “I’m guessing that’s supposed to be the chorus?” 

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “I usually write the choruses first. The verses, I’m still figuring out.” 

“Makes sense,” you replied, as you sipped your drink. “What about the melody?” 

“Oh, the melody’s pretty much completely done,” Gerard clarified. “But….I don’t know. There’s this bridge that comes before the second verse. I originally planned for that to be a guitar solo, but it just doesn’t sound right.”

“You think the solo would sound better, played on a flute?” you surmised. 

“Yeah, exactly!” Gerard said enthusiastically. You wondered if the caffeine was getting to him. 

“....Do you even know how to play the flute?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “But, you do.”

“....What are you saying?” you blinked. 

“That’s why I asked you to come up here with me,” Gerard explained. “Y/N…..would you be willing to go into the studio with me, and record a flute solo, for the track?” 

You choked on your drink. 

“Wh….What?” you wheezed, coughing from the coffee that had gone down the wrong way. “A-Are you serious?” 

“....Can you breathe?” Gerard asked, putting a concerned hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah, I can breathe,” you managed, trying not to hyperventilate even more.  

“Good,” Gerard smiled, “because I am serious, Y/N. Your flute playing really impressed me. I won’t drag you all the way out to LA, of course. But, if I find a studio space, here in New York, will you work with me?”

“Yes!” you cried. “Oh my god, yes!” 

This wasn’t what you had dreamed of - it was more. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

A few days later, you found yourself in a recording studio, in Lower Manhattan. You’d never seen so much professional equipment like this before. You’d always just performed for live audiences.

Can I really do this?, you asked yourself, hit with a wave of uncertainty. 

“Y/N, thank you so much for coming out here, and joining us today,” Gerard greeted you. His smile, somehow instantly put you at ease. 

“This is Doug McKean,” he introduced, indicating a man in the corner. “He’s my producer.” 

“Nice to meet you, Doug,” you said politely, shaking hands. 

“And this is Ian Fowles,” Gerard said, indicating a second guy, with longer hair. “He was my touring guitarist, when I went on the road with Hesitant Alien.” 

“Oh, I remember seeing him, when you guys played Irving Plaza,” you recalled. 

“You were at that little gig we did, in Union Square?” Ian smiled. 

“Yeah, of course I bought a ticket!” you smiled back. “You guys were amazing!” 

“Aw, you really think so?” Gerard reddened, looking flattered. 

“I really do,” you replied. My Chemical Romance had been your favorite band, since your teens. When they had broken up, five years ago, you had been heartbroken. But, you’d found Gerard’s solo work, to be equally amazing - just in a different way. 

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Ian said quietly. “Has Gerard explained to you, what we’re going to be doing today?” 

“Yeah, he said he wants me to do a flute solo for you guys,” you said, almost not believing your own words. 

“Let’s start from the beginning of the song,” Doug directed. “Ian, can you take us from the top, please? I know we got a great take of your part yesterday, but I feel like we can still do better.” 

“Definitely,” Ian agreed. He shrugged his guitar strap over his head, and stepped into the recording booth. You listened intently, as he played the opening notes. The tune was definitely different from anything MCR had done. But, it didn’t sound quite like Hesitant Alien, either. You were intrigued by the new musical direction that Gerard seemed to be heading in. 

“Alright, cut,” Doug called, pressing a button, to stop recording. “Ian, that was good. Gerard, it’s your turn to get in there. I want to hear that verse you were working on the other day.”

“Alright,” Gerard nodded. You watched him put his headphones over his ears, and timidly approach the microphone. A blush crept into his cheeks. Did it make him nervous, to have you, as an audience? 

“The answer’s always no,” Gerard sang, “to questions of a private nature…...the lights are always low, in settings of a conversation…..” 

He seemed to grow more confident, as the song continued. By the time he got to the chorus, he was belting it out. He sounded incredible. 

“....How was that?” he asked finally. 

“Amazing,” you breathed. 

Gerard’s cheeks reddened at your compliment. He stayed quiet, as he watched Doug take the vocal track, and mix it with Ian’s guitar playing. He played back the clip, of the two spliced together. The parts formed an even more impressive whole. 

“Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn,” Doug commanded. “Show us what you can do.” 

You gulped. You weren’t sure that you could do anything, that was on the same level, as what you just heard. 

“You can do it,” Gerard encouraged. “You played an amazing solo, in front of a whole station worth of people yesterday. Playing for three dudes like us, should be nothing.” 

That’s different, you thought to yourself. I don’t have a huge crush on everyone in the station.

“Here’s the sheet music,” Ian said, handing you a piece of paper. “I really like what Gerard’s composed here. But, I think he’s right. It’s going to sound better on your instrument, than mine.”

You took the sheet, and grabbed the flute case, out of your backpack. Taking a deep breath, you walked into the booth. Your fingers trembled on the middle joint of the flute. You glanced up at Gerard, who was sitting on the other side, of the pane of glass. 

He gave you a friendly smile, and a dorky-looking thumbs-up. You chuckled, your nerves dissipating. 

Alright, you told yourself. I got this. You brought your lips to the head joint, and began to play. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“I don’t know,” you said, as you stepped back out of the booth. “Do you think that was okay?”

“That was incredible,” Gerard gushed, pulling you into an impulsive hug. His arms were so soft and warm. 

“Like, wow, what are you?” Ian gaped. “The secret lovechild of Ian Anderson, or something?” 

“Ha, I wish,” you laughed. “I’m just your average band kid.” 

“I wouldn’t call that average,” Gerard insisted, staring into your eyes, as he still held you close. “I was right….the flute just fits perfectly in with the song. And you’re the perfect person to play it.”

“Y/N, I can show you what the guitar and the flute will sound like together,” Doug offered, “If you could, uh, let go of her for a moment, Gee.”

“O-oh, right,” Gerard stammered, releasing you quickly. You blushed, and turned away. 

Doug began to play the edited-together track for you. You couldn’t believe it - your flute, Ian’s guitar, and Gerard’s vocals, blended together, into something incredibly beautiful. 

“I wasn’t sure if the flute was going to go well, with your style of music,” you confessed. “My background is the symphony orchestra. Most of the time, you only really see the flute, used in classical music, like that. I wasn’t sure if you could make it sound rock n’ roll. But...it works! Somehow.” 

“It does,” Gerard agreed. “Y/N…..I’m so, so glad that I met you.”

His eyes sparkled as he looked at you. It made your heart pound, for reasons you couldn’t articulate. 

“Y/N,” Doug said, bringing you back to reality, “that first take was great, but I’d like you to try it again for me, please.”

“Of course,” you acquiesced. “I’ll give it as many takes as it needs.” 

“I feel like we could all use some coffee first, though,” Ian decided. “Doug? You want to run down the street with  me, to get it?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s our turn, since Gerard ran and got the last round,” Doug agreed. “Y/N - what can we get you?”

“Oh, just a vanilla latte, I guess,” you decided. 

“Coming right up,” Ian smiled. “We’ll be right back.” 

The guitarist and producer got up and left. Your pulse quickened again, as you realized, that you were now alone in the room with Gerard. It felt different, than it had at the station, or the coffeeshop. Both of those times, there were plenty of other people around. But now…..?

“It’s just you and me,” Gerard said softly. He was still staring at you. 

“Y-Yeah,” you said nervously. “I guess we got quite a day ahead of us, huh?”

“Yup,” Gerard said awkwardly. “Doug’s not gonna let you leave, until you get your part just right.” 

“.....Gerard,” you asked, “why did you pick me for this job? You could have gotten anyone to play flute for you. I’m nobody.” 

“I told you, your performance got my attention,” Gerard reminded you. “I was just passing through the station, minding my own business. But, when I heard the sound of your flute…..I stopped still. I was like, oh my god, this is the sound that I’ve been looking for.” 

“Was it really that great?” you asked, feeling unsure of yourself. 

“Yes!” Gerard insisted. “Y/N, I swear to god, it was like I was hypnotized. By that incredible sound….and by the beauty, of the person making it……” 

“Beauty?” you repeated, your face going hot. Did he mean…..?

“I won’t lie to you,” Gerard said softly. “The moment I laid eyes on you, in that subway tunnel, I was so attracted to you.” 

“You think I’m attractive?” you realized, eyes going wide. 

“Yes,” Gerard whispered, looking you up and down, with evident desire. “I’m sorry…..you probably think I’m just a creepy, older dude….” 

“You’re not creepy!” you shook your head. “Gerard, I’ve always thought that you were extremely good-looking.” 

“You’re…..attracted to me, too?” Gerard put two and two together. 

You weren’t sure which of you took a step towards the other first, but, before you knew it, you were in his arms. He kissed you gently, but your body quickly responded to him, and the kiss rapidly turned more passionate.

He pressed you against the studio wall, his hands trailing down your body, as the kiss continued. 

“.....G-Gerard,” you gasped. “The others could walk back in, at any minute.” 

“If they interrupt us,” Gerard said, his voice husky, “we could always continue this, at my hotel, after the recording session is over.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Gerard panted, as your lips found his neck. “Oh, fuck, yeah…..I got a room at a five star hotel in Times Square, that I would love to show you.”

“When do you have to go back to LA?” you asked, gasping for breath, as he kissed you again. 

“I’m supposed to go home on Saturday,” Gerard confessed. “But, if you keep kissing me like that….I might just miss the flight.”