#gotbang fanfic

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

Jaebum x Reader [featuring GOT7 x BTS]  →  angel!au / demon!au Warning: violence, language, & mentions/descriptions of death

→ Masterlist (including teasers) → A/N: chapters are updated every Friday

It’s like being shot.

A pain that explodes from one spot, like a flower blooming in the heart of spring. You can feel it, a burn on the walls of your skin, prickling with a heat that can only be described as uncomfortable. It’s a wound you can’t reach, can’t touch physically with the tips of your fingers or the palm of your hand. You can only claw at it, can only gasp for the air your lungs refuse to give you.

That’s what you feel when you see her.

Because training with Mark meant training with Rose. 

And when Mark said it was going to be intense, he meant it.

Unlike with Jackson, this type of training didn’t test your agility or speed. It didn’t require you to throw a punch or use your abilities at all.

What Mark needed was for you to get a handle on your emotions.

“Seeing her,” he says, circling you both, “is hard. She’s gone. This, in front of you? An illusion I can conjure. Rose is dead. Killed by Yoongi in attempt to sabotage any hope of saving mankind. He took her from you, your sister. Whether you were close or not, she was family. And Lucifer will use that to his advantage. Your greatest weakness Y/N, is your heart. You feel. You’re human. And Lucifer takes no pity on humans.”

Rose smiles then, a replica of the lost girl, and your chest constricts. Somehow, he senses it. “You must understand. This is war. A battle where victory is necessary. Losing means dying. It means the world burns and everything is gone. Like her. I need you to focus. To understand that Rose is in Hell and you can never see her again.”

You don’t say anything, haven’t said a word since you began, because you don’t think you can even form any. 

She’s there, your sister, and even though it’s an illusion brought forth by Mark, you can’t help seeing her. Mark continues his track around, one hand in his suit pants, another clutching his pocket watch. His eyes are trained on you and you alone, watching your movements.

Better yet, watching the expressions crossing your face. 

“I need you to talk to her,” he whispers.

A breath catches in your throat but you nod once, “Hello Rosie.”

She’s still smiling, hands clasped in front of her like she used to do when you were children and she wanted something. “Hi baby sister. What would you like to talk about today?”

Your jaw tightens, “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you. What do you want to talk about?”

Mark is behind you, voice dangerously low, “She’s going to try and crack you. Pick away at what lies beneath all with a smile and a kind voice. She’s meant to test you. Hold your ground and be careful.”

Rose just keeps grinning, now rocking back on her heels every few seconds. “Mark, I have something she’ll be dying to talk about.”

He meets her gaze over your head, eyes narrowing. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest because you know. 

You know what she’s about to say.

And when she does, you find yourself holding your breath in what feels like...

Fear.

“You’re in love with Jaebum, aren’t you baby sister.”

It wasn’t a question, no investigatory tone in her honeyed voice. You can feel Mark’s surprise but your focus remains on her. Fists clenching at your sides, you think of your answer, try to think of something to shift where the conversation is going, but Rose smiles. As if she’s reading your mind.

“It’s useless to deny it Y/N. I can hear your thoughts, I can see your face. That kiss last night, it would’ve been more if you weren’t so afraid. If there weren’t rules. But there’s no question. That precious heart of yours belongs to Im Jaebum. An angel. And you know that humans can’t ever be with one of God’s children. Jinyoungie has already made his mistake. Now, as we speak, he’s with Shan. His heart completely belongs to her. And do you know what happens? When an angel and a human are in love?”

“Rose,” Mark warns, suddenly on edge.

She doesn’t listen, smile more like a devilish grin, “An angel can lose his wings you know. Belonging to a human strips their abilities. Jinyoung is slowly becoming human. And that would all fine and lovely. If that transformation didn’t end up in the human dying. And poor, poor Jinyoung will be alone. He can’t ascend back to Heaven. If you love Jaebum, you too will die. A consequence of breaking the law.”

You’re listening to her, or at least you think you are, but any sound seems to be muffled within you ears.

Jinyoung is becoming human? Shan will die? 

Your heart constricts and it’s painful. You turn to Mark, hoping he’d tell you it was a lie, but his expression tells you otherwise. His eyes find yours, sad as if Jinyoung was already lost completely.

“He made his choice,” he said, “he loves her and won’t leave her.”

“But what about Shanna? I’m not going to let her die!”

Rose’s voice rings out behind you, “Humans die baby sister. It’s the circle of your pathetic lives. You live. You love. And you foolishly die for matters of the heart.”

You spin to face her, “And what about you sister? You loved Jaebum, when you were alive. You loved him and knew the rules!”

She sneers, “Love is irrelevant and useless in this world. I didn’t love Jaebum. He loved me. He stood by my side and we fought demons together. He wouldn’t given up everything to stay with me. A kiss means nothing, not when we’ve had sex in the very room you’re sleeping in. Haven’t you noticed he’s never once gone in there? He never checks up on you because when he sees you sleeping there, he sees me. We have the same face. When he looks at you, he sees what he lost. He may have not known what love really was but what he felt for me was pretty damn close. You, my dear, are my replacement. If I hadn’t died, this would be my life. And you’d be living yours far away from here. No one here cares about you. You’re needed to defeat Lucifer. And if you somehow happen to live through that, you’ll be tossed aside, no longer useful.”

Your blood is boiling, the heat within you growing. You can feel it, running through you rapidly, spreading through every part of your body. 

You’re angry and for the first time in your life, you want Rose gone. 

She looks accomplished, not so much smug, head tilted to the side as she happily gazes at you. You try not to think about Jaebum, or the raw pain you’re experiences in the deeper crevices of your heart. You do what Mark had said. You focus your energy and hold your ground, channeling the emotions within you outward, the power you possess flying from your body and towards the illusion of your sister. 

At first, it seems as if nothing had happened.

But then, she’s no longer smiling, face contorting as if in pain before a scream rips through her and she breaks apart, as if cracks in the concrete, disappearing into the air like smoke and ashes. 

You call back your power, a slow descend back to hide away. You don’t want to turn around, you don’t want to look at Mark, but you do anyway.

But it’s not Mark that’s there. It’s Jaebum.

His jaw is clenching tightly as he looks at the spot where Rose just was. He looks lost and sad, eyes glazing over before meeting yours.

You can only stare at each other, space in between you both even though it feels as if you’re universes apart. He steps forward, hand reaching out to touch you, but you recoil back. 

“She wasn’t lying, was she? Even if she was an illusion, everything she said was true. Jinyoung. And Shan. And...and you. You and her. And my room and...”

He closes the space between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that felt desperate, as if he was asking to understand.

You let him kiss you, let his hands roam your body as your fingers grip at the black of his hoodie. You know very well that you shouldn’t be doing this again, not with everything you had just learned and the rules still firmly in place. But his tongue pries your mouth open, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt, and your arms immediately go up as your clothing slides off. 

His breath in hot against your neck as his lips move down, arms lifting you up and into your arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. You can feel his want for you as his hands grip at your ass, walking you out from the living room to where you’d only assume to be your room.

But it isn’t your room, it’s his, door flying open as he gets you to bed, dropping you briefly before shedding his own clothes. He’s back on you in mere seconds, your fingers grazing over the warm skin of his toned body, the body you’d dreamt about for night’s on end. 

You’re both hot, temperatures rising as things quickly escalate. Your mind is hazy, no longer thinking about the consequences of what’s happening. Completely naked now, you let him have you, all of you. He peppers kisses on every inch of your skin, thrust after thrust sending you quickly to your release.

He stays by your side when it’s all over, chests rising in perfect sync as he pulls your tired body towards his.

The kiss is languid, fingers rubbing patterns between your shoulder blades. You’re coming down from your high, the feel of Jaebum against you slightly lulling you to sleep, when you remember.

You stiffen and he feels it, pulling away in concern. Seeing your posture and panicked expression, he sits up and brings you with him.

“What she had said...was technically true.”

You inhale sharply, grasping the sheet around you tighter. “So you and my sister...”

He looks up at you, “No! Well, yes. I mean...we almost. And yes. It was in your room. What was her room before. I told you that I didn’t know what true love was. I meant it. Rose was...I was infatuated. She was beautiful and strong and I was drawn to her, despite the rules. And we almost...that night. But we didn’t. I stopped her. Maybe because I knew we couldn’t or maybe because I was scared, I don’t know. But I promise, we never...not like we just did.”

“And Jinyoung and Shan?”

He runs his hands through his hair, dark pieces falling over his eyes despite pushing it back. “An angel can becoming human yes. And Jinyoung loves Shan. More than I��ve seen him love anything before. He knows what happens. And Rose is right. Humans live and they die. Jinyoung reasons that at least he can do so by Shan’s side and she by his. He knows what he’s doing and none of us can really stop him.”

“That isn’t fair to her Jaebum. She doesn’t know what Jinyoung is. She doesn’t know loving him will kill her.”

He chuckles softly, “She’s not going to burst into flames Y/N. But loving an angel has consequences, yes. And Jinyoung will have to tell her so she can make her own decision. Let them move at their own pace. We have other things we should worry about.”

“Like the fact that we just had sex and weren’t supposed to?”

“Sure, like that. Even though I meant more ‘end of the world’ type stuff.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, your next question seemingly uncomfortable. “...were you sad? To hear Rose say she never loved you?”

He sighs, “Like I said, infatuation. I knew she never loved me. We were caught up in each other but it’s like what I feel for...”

He stops, mouth clamping shut. Your brows rise in surprise and you can’t the little smile that blooms in the place of your previous frown. “For me? You feel those things for me? Why Mr. Im, how very forward of you.”

A blush spread across his cheeks and you find yourself absolutely in love with embarrassed Jaebum. “I thought we said no ‘Mr. Im’.”

You shrug, falling back onto the bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. “You thought. I never agreed Mr. Im.”

He moves to lay down, one arm propping him up as his other hand comes to grasp your hand in his. “You know, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Mind what Mr. Im?”

He grins, a little playfully, lowering to brush his still swollen lips against yours. “That. You calling Mr. Im. It’s a bit...sexy.”

You’re laughing now, back arching as a cackle sounds loudly, his face moving to bury into your neck. “You’re unbelievable. Suddenly it’s sexy.”

He shrugs, “Maybe it’s just you. Maybe I just like when you say it.”

Placing your hands on either side of his face, your eyes shine with a bit of happiness. “I think...even though there are rules and this could crash and burn...that I love you. But don’t think too much about it. Maybe if I save the world, we can ask Father to bend the law. A little.”

His happiness mirrors your own. “I think...even though yes, there are rules and this could definitely crash and burn...that I love you too. Save the world and we’ll see what happens next.”

A sudden desire rips through you the longer you look at him and you propel yourself forward because you want to kiss him so bad it hurts.

He doesn’t seem to mind, capturing your lips easily, arms wrapping around your still naked body. 

He curses when your phone rings, the shrill sound breaking you out of your love daze. You kiss his cheek in apology, moving to answer it when you see Fal’s face on your screen.

“Hi Fal babe. What’s up?”

Her voice is cracked and nervous, pain evident in the tone, “Y/N?”

You sit up straighter, Jaebum’s concern evident in the look he give you. 

“Fal, what’s wrong?”

A groan sounds and you can tell she’s gritting her teeth, “The baby. Something is wrong with the baby. Please...help me.”

A/N: Did I say a new update in two days @kpopfanfictrash? I lied. I meant today lol. Two chapters left whooooo.

[tastetheravenn]

The One Where It’s My Truth

Jackson Wang X RM, Jin X RM (Namjackjin)

Description: Jackson Wang gives Namjoon flirting advice and pretends he’s okay with Namjoon loving Jin. 

Content Warnings: So much Namjin angst (sorry not sorry), mild cursing, steamy and sensual but no smut 

A/N: So this ends this Namjackjin trilogy, but never fear casual readers, there are more set after this/ in this universe so their story continues! Let me know what you think! (Also, happy Festa!)

PART I

He liked getting what he wanted.

Was this why he was back here, pacing in front of Namjoon’s door? A tiger in a cage. He knocked again.

“Hello?” Namjoon said as he opened the door, sticking his painstakingly messy head into the opening. Ah yes, Jackson remembered, that was the reason he was here. Kim Namjoon. Namjoon-ah. It would be easiest and best for everyone involved if he just said what he came to say and left. But Jackson wasn’t fond of doing things the easiest way, as his bandmates never hesitated to remind him. So, rather than say his piece, he crossed his arms and tilted his chin, mocking tough. “Uh, oh, hey,” Namjoon began, his face unable to return to normal from his initial shock.

Jackson laughed and broke his pose. He playfully hit RM on the side of the head. “’Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Namjoon mutely stood aside, thinking god knew what. Jackson bounced into Namjoon’s apartment as if he hadn’t left. Maybe he hadn’t. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d woken up and seen the way Namjoon looked at Jin. “So, I have an excellent proposal,” he started, toeing off his shoes. Jackson wasn’t sure what he was starting to say, but he had found out some time ago that sometimes it was better just to let his mouth do all the work.

Namjoon continued to stare, and Jackson plowed ahead before he remembered he was only human. “Okay, first, I know you’re in love with Jin.”

“I – I…”

“Speechless is fine. I have that effect on people,” Jackson said and winked. He knew that Namjoon hated it when he was cocky. And fake. But maybe it would be better if he acted like this. “I’ll help you. Be your confidant. Tips,” he said.

RM shook his head, confused at first and then angry. He crossed his arms, but he wasn’t being fake playful. “And what gave you the impression that I was in love with Jin?” Because you aren’t in love with me, Jackson thought. “You don’t even know him. Come on, you don’t know me!” Namjoon turned around and began to walk towards his kitchen.

Jackson caught up to Namjoon quickly, a hand stretching out and catching the other man’s hip, spinning him around to meet him in the middle of the floor. Jackson wondered if Namjoon felt his hand on him like his hand was on him nearly two weeks ago now, a hand hot and heavy and he wondered if the memories would hold him down and sink him to the bottom of the sea. “I want to know you. I want to help you,” he said. “I’m your friend!” he exclaimed, too loud for the moment, but he had to diffuse the bomb. He let go the other man and stepped back.

“Why am I saying yes?” Namjoon said after a moment. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling and gave a half-grin, one that was more half-sad than half-happy.

+++

Jackson already knew what neither of them voiced. That Jin and Namjoon already had a secret language of their own. There was nothing he could do to help. There was so much he didn’t know. But he was an infinite optimist, and even though RM played at being a realist or artfully cynical, Jackson liked to think that he too was willing to have faith in simple things.

Jackson wished, not for the first time, that he could tell what was going on in the other man’s mind. “What are you thinking?”

“Why do you always ask that?”

“Why don’t you ever answer?” Jackson made a goofy face at the other man. “Just admit it, you’re thinking of me without my clothes. It’s cool man. I mean it’s not like there’s any surprises for you.”

“Oh! Okay, are we playing it like that?” Namjoon said, shocked but not overly. “This is a public restaurant. I have an image.”

Jackson snorted. “Yeah right. Oh, oh, try this. Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“No, no, are you ready?”

“You’re a shitty teacher,” RM snorted.

Watch

Jackson leaned forward and laughed low.

And

“You’re a mess, Namjoon.” He reached out a hand and brushed a loose hair from the other man’s forehead before sitting back.

Learn.

Namjoon nodded intently, but Jackson noticed with satisfaction the blush that was spreading across his face. “Like this,” he said, and mimicked the motion, his fingertips brushing Jackson’s forehead. Jackson resisted the urge to plant a kiss on Namjoon’s palm, and for once, his mouth listened.

“Wow, Kim, you’re starting to be a little less like this –” he made a frantic fluttering motion with his arms. “And a little more like this,” he said nodding his head with his fingers on his chin in an interesting imitation of Taehyung.

“Hey! Are you saying Taeh is sexy?”

“Easily the sexiest member of BTS.”

Fine, Namjoon’s eyes said. “When are you going to introduce me to JB?”

+++

They were on set for a music video when Namjoon walked in through the side door, searching over the tops of passing heads. “Jackson, your boy is here,” Bambam noted, wiggling his eyebrows.

“He’s not my boy,” Jackson said automatically, reserved and curious. He jogged over to where the other man was standing. They watched as their friend and brother-in-arms bent his head together with RM, squeezing the other man’s arm and grinning.

“Look at them!” Yugygeom giggled, and JB hit him on the arm absently. Jackson walked back towards them, pretty obviously imagining that RM was still standing at the doorway watching him walk away. But the other man had already left.

Mark moved forward and intercepted Jackson, flanked by Jinyoung. They each grabbed an arm and dragged an only vaguely protesting Jackson into a back hallway. “Tell me how the maknae can see what you can’t,” Jinyoung started without preamble. He could be quite blunt.

Mark shot his friend side-eye before approaching the matter with a more sympathetic tone. “Jackson, this is too much for you.”

“I’m not doing anything!” He stopped and leaned against the wall, hearing the whining tone in his own voice. “He’s my friend.” His friends just stared at him, unamused. “He’s got his first date… well, I mean he’s hanging out with Jin tonight. He’s nervous.” Jackson shrugged.

“You’re in love with him,” Jinyoung stated abruptly, and Mark sighed.

Jackson closed his eyes for the briefest moment – most people wouldn’t have even noticed (Mark and Jinyoung weren’t most people) – before opening them. He rolled his eyes. “Love? This isn’t a movie. I like him, sure. Sure. But if you think –”

“We don’t think that you set this whole thing up as some scheme –” Mark began.

“What if I did? What if I meant it to be like this from the beginning?” Jackson asked, and he was smiling but his chest hurt, and he couldn’t understand why.

“I highly doubt that,” Mark answered.

“Sometimes I say things without actually thinking…”

“Noooooooo,” Jinyoung drawled, but he was smiling.

“Okay…” Mark started, but Jackson laughed and pulled them in for a sideways hug, artfully dodging whatever advice his friends had been hoping to impart.

 PART II

Jin wrapped Namjoon in a hug as soon as the door opened. He had thought the other man would never call him, which is ridiculous, of course (but how could he not think it)? But really, why wouldn’t Namjoon want to be his best friend? They were best friends, he repeated to himself, and tried not to get lost in the familiar smell of soft cologne and the food he’d cooked – he’d cooked? – for dinner. Whatever was new about his friend, nothing could change that they were Namjoon’s arms around him.

“Come on,” Namjoon said and moved aside so that he could come through the door.

 After that, Jin couldn’t help but admit it was strange at first. They didn’t talk much, or look at each other, but then one of them told an old story, or mentioned something one of the other Bangtan boys had said, and then they forgot the passing of time. They forgot (or pretended to) the fact that they hadn’t talked in such a long time. And that some of that time wasn’t the consequence of life getting in the way of the way they loved to look into one another’s eyes and make the other one laugh, but their own stubbornness.

No, Jin thought, watching RM out of the corner of his eyes. Not stubbornness. What was it? Jin turned to face his friend, and froze as he noticed RM leaning toward him. He thought his stomach was probably a puddle at his feet, and he was acutely aware that he’d never tried to love anyone before. He remembered sleepless nights, shallowly wondering why it was so unfair. Why he wasn’t allowed to love anyone?

RM reached over and pushed a stray hair off of Jin’s forehead. RM’s fingers had barely left his forehead when Jin bust up laughing. It should have been sexy or romantic, in front of the fireplace. Maybe to anyone else it could have been. But Jin panicked, and he couldn’t look past how ridiculous the move was coming from RM, his sometimes cocky but mostly flustered and emo Namjoon.

Namjoon for his part evidently didn’t agree with Jin’s humorous appraisal of the situation. He turned away, face set before standing up and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Hey, are you okay?” Jin asked, putting his foot in it, probably.

“Okay? Am I okay? No, for fuck’s sake, I’m not okay!”

Jin wasn’t taken aback. He knew, of course. He knew what they both knew and had felt so deeply it hurt him to breathe sometimes. Like when he sat miles and miles away from him and sat with his fingers over his keyboard or his pen hovering above the paper and wondered what to write, how to say the things they never had to say. Namjoon was his words. Namjoon always knew how to write what he was feeling better than he could ever say out loud.

He wasn’t surprised, he realized. He was angry. Because Jin had just as much a right as anyone to be pissed about this. It was his anger too. This thing between them was never one way.

But Jin pushed it back, because he couldn’t seem to stop wanting to fix it, make it better. Kiss it, put a Band-aid on it. Make it like it never happened because wasn’t it easier this way? “Hey, I understand. But please, sit down,” he said.

“Sit down? Sit down and what, exactly? We’ll talk about old times? You’ll tell me about what it was like when you were gone? What could you possibly understand about how I’m feeling?”

“Namjoon.”

“You never wrote me! And now, now I think I imagined goddamn everything between us, didn’t I?” Namjoon shouted.

This time Jin did reel back like the other man had hit him. He looked up at Namjoon, and the only thing betraying his anger was his eyes that blazed in the light from the fire. “Oh, you forgot already. I saw you. You slept with someone else,” he said intensely, not shouting and raging because he didn’t have to.

“You can’t shame me! I waited. I waited and waited, and then I thought it was all a dream,” Namjoon said, and he sat back down next to Jin. “I thought I was crazy, and you never wrote.” And it was Jin who felt guilty, felt guilt so toxic it curdled his stomach. “Please, do not shame me. Because- because I am not ashamed, Jin.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Jin said. “In the letters?”

“Don’t cry, I cry when you cry.”

“I didn’t know what to say. We never said it, Namjoon. We never said I love you.”

“I know,” he said, and he looked away into the fire. Jin watched his profile in the soft light and saw him swallow once, twice. “He was there for me,” he said to the floor, and his voice broke just the tiniest bit. “Wouldn’t even leave when I tried to kick him out,” he added with a small smile. Jin reached out towards him and pulled him close, Namjoon nestling into his neck, their legs tangled. Namjoon’s arms circled round his waist and they were Namjoon’s arms, same as before, but he knew they couldn’t pretend anymore. It wouldn’t do.

They sat that way for some time before Jin asked, “Do you love him?”

Namjoon picked his head up a bit, and his voice was drowsy when he responded, “What?”

“Who.”

“Who?” Namjoon echoed.

“Jackson.”

Namjoon sat up and rubbed a crick in his neck, scooting forward to the edge of the couch. Jin rubbed a hand up the back of his spine, leaned forward and feeling bold, kissed the back of Namjoon’s neck. As if they weren’t discussing another man. As if there wasn’t a problem in the world with discussing another man as they sat by the firelight and held one another.

“Honestly?” Namjoon asked, and turned his head to read Jin’s face. Jin nodded. He wanted to know, and he wasn’t sure if the news would wound him, or set him free. “Honestly, I don’t know. He confuses the hell out of me.”

“Like me?”

Namjoon turned fully around and only hesitated a second before placing his hands on either side of Jin’s face. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in the world. Even like this,” he added. Like this meaning confused and content and angry and regretful of time lost – but not, Jin remembered, shameful. Jin also had no time for shame and so he leaned forward and captured Namjoon’s mouth with his own.

But it was a kiss of the sort that neither expected. It was sincere and it was bittersweet, but it was finite. They hugged and Namjoon curled up half on the other man’s lap and was soon asleep. Jin, on the other hand, did not sleep for a long time. He stared into the fire, and he looked at Namjoon’s face, and he wondered. He wondered about his own future. He’d never had his own life before, after all.

It would be nice to live for himself.

 Part III

When Namjoon answered his door, he didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. He didn’t know if he was happy about what they’d wordlessly decided last night. He rubbed the side of his face where the crease marks from sleeping on the couch wouldn’t go away. The light of day was a judge and jury. He’d asked Jin whether he had imagined everything between them before Jin had gone away, but at the same time, didn’t everything him and Jackson hang on a rainstorm in the pitch black? Maybe love belonged to the night. Had he really given up so much for-

“Jackson?” he said, surprised, staring at the man standing on his doorstep. “You look like shit.”

Jackson’s worried face evaporated and he grinned. “Fuck you!”

“Well, good morning to you, too.” Namjoon said, and he bit his lip. “Is everything okay?” he asked, though it wasn’t that unusual for the other man to pick him up first thing in the morning for who knows what. It was unusual for him to be anything but immaculately dressed. His outfit was slept in, hair shoved beneath a hat, and his arms were crossed like the nice summer breeze stung.

His face grew serious again. “I guess it’s early… but… um, wow, you ruined my serious speech.”

“You, serious?”

“Namjoon, I can’t be your friend.”

“What? Is it because I haven’t showered today?”

Jackson’s exterior melted, and for once, Namjoon didn’t have to wonder what he was like on the inside. He’d thought that Jackson didn’t wear a mask like other people. He’d assumed a lot about him. “See, I’m a joke to you, and that’s okay. I like making you laugh, but I couldn’t sleep last night… And, well, I pretended I was okay with everything, but I guess I had to know deep… you can’t look at me like…” Jackson gave a half-smile, seeming to relax as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I’ll just see you around, you know?” he said before turning and walking away from a stunned Namjoon.  

Namjoon jogged down the sidewalk, half-remembering Yoongi’s advice from weeks before. He had been right, of course. Life couldn’t make sense. Love would never make any sense. “Hey!” he yelled, and it was summer and it was sunny and he scolded his earlier thought that boys like Jackson only belonged to the night. “How do I look at him? How does…”

Jackson stopped, and Namjoon walked around him on the sidewalk. Jackson looked up at him, chin defiant, mouth resigned, and eyes steady. But it wasn’t the way Jin looked at him, or even the way he looked at Jin. It was the way Jackson looked at Namjoon.

Namjoon closed the distance between them. Jackson tilted his head up and met his lips halfway. RM slide his hands up his sweatshirt so that he could feel the other man’s skin beneath his fingertips. “I don’t understand,” Jackson said eventually.  

“Did you really think I needed lessons in flirting?”

“Yes, obviously. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“And you said I make a joke out of you!” Namjoon said, but he was laughing. “Okay, the point is, I’ve loved Jin for a long time, and I still love him.”

“Oh,” Jackson sighed, and nodded, starting to step back.

“No, no,” he whispered, moving his thumbs in circles on Jackson’s bare skin. “Because, for a long time I loved him, but I didn’t really like myself anymore. And then, and then you broke into my house and my phone and my head, and I can see.”  

“See what?”

“You.” Jackson grinned. “What, speechless for once?” Namjoon teased.

“Shut up,” he said, and sniffled and wiped a sleeve across his face, though at the same time he couldn’t stop smiling. Namjoon laughed and pulled him into a hug. The summer wind continued to gently blow the trees around them.  

[theycallme-tunathot]

Road to Ruin [Chapter 8] Reader

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Rating: Somewhere between R and NC-17 I suppose Synopsis: The test ride continues to a local bowling alley with unexpected results. Author’s Note: So...this took me forever. I apologize again for the long wait, but I’m super excited because THIS is the turning point. Nothing will be the same after this chapter. So get ready for it! Credit for the gif is here.

“I’m going to do something. Don’t freak out.”

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

The walk to the bowling alley only made one thing incredibly clear to me: Jackson was far more cheap than I gave him credit for.

While the walk to the restaurant from the training facility was decent but a good workout, the walk from the restaurant to the second destination for the night was absolutely stupid. Filled with hills and sidewalks too cracked to walk normally on, I was beginning to wonder why we didn’t take a taxi or maybe even JB’s car. But Jackson promised the walk wouldn’t be so bad and even convinced JB to leave his car parked because he wouldn’t need it.

Needless to say, everyone was suffering to make it to the bowling alley.

...Well, everyone except Minji and Woobin who decided to splinter off from the group and go shopping instead.

They were the smart ones.

In the middle of my thought, I felt hands grip my waist. Jumping slightly, I heard Jackson laugh into my hair, an action he’d never done before.

“Jackson,” I said, my voice airy and hardly traveling away from the two of us.

“Hmm?”

“You know how much I hate people back hugging me.”

“Yes.”

“Okay?”

“Okay what?”

“Then why are you doing it?”

I didn’t stop walking forward, happy I could see the bowling alley just ahead, no hills left for us to climb. But despite me pressing forward with Jackson’s body weight pushing down on me, he didn’t let go of me. In fact, he latched his arms around my waist and held me tighter.

“You’re being ridiculous,” I mumbled, trying to ignore Jackson as he buried his chin into my shoulder and turned his face so his breath tickled along on my neck.

Goosebumps involuntarily rose across the skin at my neck.

“But we look cute.”

And that’s when I remembered what tonight was supposed to be about. He was testing what this looked like. This sickeningly cute couple move was something that made my skin crawl, but it screamed intimacy right? This meant Jackson and I were a little more intimate than just being really good friends right? Because of this, I couldn’t react the way I normally would. In another circumstance or situation, I would’ve elbowed Jackson viciously in the stomach until he let me go. But girls didn’t do that to boys they were dating.

So, for the next hundred feet I let Jackson squeeze my torso tight, nuzzle his nose into my jaw and make the high-pitched squeals he normally did when he found something cute and I even let him lean into me more. But once we were within the limits of the parking lot, I shrugged and squirmed to get out of Jackson’s hold.

“Where are you going?” he asked playfully.

It seemed Jackson was still in character while I was desperately trying to escape. I was starting to feel hot and sticky from sweat due to our close proximity and it was becoming more uncomfortable to be that close to my best friend. It was hard not to be acutely aware of how toned Jackson’s chest was, how defined his pectorals were and how warm his skin was to the touch when my back was pressed into it. It was also hard to ignore the trail of goosebumps that were still present long after his words tapped softly along the side of my neck.

I sighed deeply before glancing over to him, “Let me go.”

When I stopped moving, he grinned down at me. “Why?”

“Because,” I replied, squirming and leaning in the direction of the bowling alley.

Jackson only laughed before he looked to the side to address JB.

“She loves bowling.”

I almost wanted to object, possibly even headbutt my best friend for putting on such a sickening show, but I had to trust him. After all, Jackson was the most experienced in this area. I, on the other hand, couldn’t really explain the first distinguishable trait between two random people who knew each other and a couple if kissing or groping wasn’t involved in some way.

“Jackson,” I whined out, squirming again.

“You must love bowling more than me.”

“I do,” I said, not necessarily lying. I loved Jackson as a friend--nothing more, nothing less. I probably had more romantic love for a bowling ball than I did for him.

Jackson frowned as he loosened his grip on my waist. “You can be so mean when you smell competition,” he moaned in sadness before rapidly turning to JB again. “She gets really competitive with me in bowling because we’re both so good.”

The moment I could break free from Jackson’s grasp, I did. Taking off in a full sprint, I didn’t look back as I kept most of my weight on my toes. I would be the first person to the doors but I didn’t care about that either. Just as the distance became sizable, I did catch the loud and exasperated question leave Namjoon’s mouth.

“How does she still have enough energy to run, my legs are about to give out!”

While Jackson was busy buying our admittance to the bowling alley, I was leaning against the wall between Mark and Bambam.

“How long have you been friends with Jackson?” Bambam asked casually.

“Um, I can’t remember now. A year or so, maybe a little longer than that,” I lied.

I knew how long Jackson and I were friends. The length of our friendship was insanely short for how close we were and the drastic difference he created in my life. To see his effect, I only had to remember the blandness of my life before he showed up at the training facility and the life I had now. Even if it didn’t always pay to be Jackson’s friend, one thing was clearly more obvious than almost everything else: Finding another friend like Jackson would be impossible.

Bambam nodded his head, his movement so graceful. He was definitely a gymnast. 

“And how long has...that been going on?” he asked, his eyes turning to me with a pensive stare.

For a second, the idea to feign confusion crossed my mind. But in reality, what good would it do? It was obvious the guy standing to the right of me saw the interaction in the parking lot. The look on his face and the way he was looking me over before sliding his eyes to the side where Jackson stood at the counter and then back to me meant something. Did Jackson’s move actually work?

“Oh it’s just…”

Bambam only laughed in response, a laugh that wasn’t nearly as condescending as it would’ve normally sounded, but a laugh nonetheless. It was one of amusement and pity, a strange mix that somehow conveyed his point.

You poor unfortunate soul…

I had no idea how to react in this situation, so I stood there like a fish out of water, my mouth opening and closing in an unattractive way.

“You wouldn’t be the first girl to fall for that sweet thing Jackson has going,” Bambam explained.

No matter how much I wanted to set the record straight, I knew I shouldn’t. This was all a part of Jackson’s plan. And somehow this was working. To think I laughed at all of Jackson’s seemingly stupid ideas of selling us as a couple.

So instead of verbally responding, I timidly nodded, awkwardly throwing in a smile for good measure. Did I look like someone in denial or like a person begging to hide how awkward this felt? I guess I could really be both at this point.

Bambam crossed his arms as he assessed me, “But as his best friend, I thought you would’ve been...smarter than that?”

I almost had half a mind to slap him across the face. The guy seemed nice enough, but he had a big mouth. He also expected us to be chummy not even 24 hours after that whole drunken incident in JB’s card, which I found to be a highly unrealistic expectation.

“Well--”

“I’m just saying you’ve seen what happens to most girls who fall for him,” he said softly, eyes drifting over to a cheerful Jackson as a pile of bowling shoes began to grow beside him. “If you know all that and you’re still going for it, can I give you a little advice?”

The content of what he was saying almost sounded absurd. There wasn’t a thing about Jackson I didn’t know already and surely Bambam knew this. Even though, the gesture itself made me soften. He was trying to look out for me? Why?

My feeble voice choked out a barely audible “yeah” before he took a step toward me and leaned down to my ear.

“If you want him, you’ve got to show a little more skin.”

Brows furrowed, I was the first to back away from the close proximity. My eyes took one short glance at Jackson who was still preoccupied with gathering the shoes before I finally returned my gaze to Bambam.

Reaching his hands out, Bambam tugged on the hemline of my shirt, trying to adjust the bottom half. It was oversized so there was plenty of material to work with. Clutching the cotton material, he bunched it up and worked it to my hip.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I swatted at his hand.

He glanced up at me, noticing my hair tied up into a ponytail. And with that, Bambam moved so he was standing behind me, the gathered material now a tight ball just above my lower back. Swiftly, his freehand flew to the hair tie, fingers deftly working the hair tie loose. I gave a few protests, slapping his arms. I quieted down when his fingers dragged against the bare skin along my spine, feeling the shock of the situation settle in. Quickly, Bambam tied up the gathered material of my shirt and he combed his fingers through my hair to make it settle and frame around my face, he stepped back, looking at the finished product.  

The grin he wore said it all.

"Now we're talking."

I looked down and was immediately met with my belly button. My belly button was visible and I wasn’t in the shower or the confines of my room.

"That's a lot of skin isn't it?”

"You should be thanking me for what I just did."

"Because everyone wants to see my belly button."

His blue eyes rolled in a sort of glamorous way. “Don’t be so boring Y/N,” he said. “You’ve got a body and from what I felt, a strong ass back with those cute dimples at the small of it. Own your body.”

And with that everyone started moving toward Jackson who I could see was waving everyone over in my peripheral.

“Alright guys, welcome to our second activity of the night: bowling!” Jackson announced loudly.

The way he spoke, someone not present would’ve assumed we were the only people at the bowling alley. But alas, we weren’t. It was Saturday night and the bowling alley was moderately packed, the night still very much young.

“I hate bowling,” Namjoon mumbled from a couple seats down.

“Shut up Joon,” Jackson threw out with a polite smile. “As I was saying, welcome! Let’s go ahead and get into our teams. But I’m just warning you, I’m a great bowler.”

I rolled my eyes.

“So is Y/N,” he continued. “If I didn’t exist, she’d probably be the best bowler.”

When Mark, who sat literally right next to me, glanced at me, I felt heat rise in my cheeks. In retaliation, I extended my leg to kick Jackson in the shin. Somehow it felt better to have the attention off of me and instead on my overdramatic friend who fell to the floor.

“You’re so full of shit,” I mumbled, earning a laugh out of Mark. My stomach fluttered out the sound of his high-pitched giggle.

It didn’t take us long to shuffle into groups. Jackson and I were on a team, due to major guilt tripping on my part for kicking him in the shin (at least that’s what I let him believe) and excessive whining on Jackson’s part. Bambam immediately chose Mark. Apparently Mark was a decent bowler too. Which left JB and Namjoon on a team. Both of them looked nervous and it probably had to do with Namjoon hating bowling and JB’s insistence that he wasn’t any good. It was only made more depressing when JB began to profusely apologize to Namjoon for being on his team.

Jackson clapped his hands, scaring everyone. “Alright, let’s get our shoes on and then pick out our balls, then we can get this started!”

Moments later I was helping set up team names, something that Namjoon wanted to do since “it’d be the only thing” he was good at tonight.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it,” I said, as I began to type out his name. “I can even set up bumpers for you.”

“You’re so mean.”

“You’re so weak.”

“See? Mean!” Namjoon shouted, feeling vindicated after my last joking statement.

By the seventh frame Namjoon and JB's team are dead last in the standings with only one more round to go. They long gave up trying to be good and settled for just having fun. Mark and Bambam were tied with Jackson and I. Jackson looked anything but happy about the turn of events.

Before we went any further, everyone decided a break was needed. Jackson was going to order pizza and scarf it down while Namjoon, JB and Bambam went into the arcade area to play games. This left Mark and I alone. And immediately I began to sweat subconsciously.

He smelled so good. Like sandalwood. There was no way for Mark to know, but it was my favorite scent. Sweet and earthy and definitely spicy. The close proximity of the two of us was starting to make me wish I hadn’t rejected getting pizza with Jackson. But at the same time I couldn’t find it in myself to be completely upset about it. This was the closest Mark and I ever were to each other.

“Y/N right?” he asked.

My head whipped in his direction and for a second I was met with a deep stare. Dark brown eyes roved over my face at such a painfully slow pace as my stomach wound itself into tight knots.

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “Yeah.”

How fucking lame.

A comfortable silence settled between us as I looked away and worked to regain my breath. It disappeared somewhere between my diaphragm and lungs. He was close enough that I felt when his leg began to shake, I guess a habit he had to help fill the lack of action around him. If my courage had shown up sooner, perhaps I would’ve had some nerve to actually take a glance in his direction again, but I was too afraid. Although we were so close that he had to have heard the thunderous sound of my heart beating wildly, I wanted to remain as placid on the surface as possible.

When I finally took a chance to look back at Mark, I saw him looking at me, a curious expression on his face. It also didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes easily dipped from my face to my outfit, lingering here and there before he looked away. And how could I not?

And suddenly I became acutely aware of my bare belly button on full display. I inwardly groaned. But thankfully, it was drowned out when Mark’s angelic voice broke in with another statement.

“You’d think Jackson had money or his life riding on this game.”

I laughed at that. Mark seemed to be the more talkative of the two of us and that was greatly appreciated. I was uncommunicative on my best days and found myself even more so while around a guy I considered to be the most visually stunning man I ever laid eyes on. So thankfully, he was pushing the conversation and not relying on me to do all the heavy lifting.

With a small scrunch of my nose, I replied, “He’s extra. The boy doesn’t know how to be anything but extra.”

“So she speaks!” Mark joked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

At first, it was easy to confuse his surprise as a joking expression, a way to get me to be comfortable, but it seemed he was genuinely surprised. Sure, other than the previous night, we didn’t really interact.

I spoke enough. I spoke around Jinyoung, his asshole teammate. I spoke around Jackson.

My mildly confused expression didn’t go unnoticed and even more than that, it seemed Mark was ready to reply back to me.

“I remember you from last night,” he said, his voice soft yet deep as he continued forward.

Immediately I froze, my thundering heart beat coming to a screeching halt there in my chest. I felt like hiding my face and I even considered making a lame excuse about needing to use the restroom to escape, but my body refused. Instead, my body kept me firmly rooted in my seat next to Mark on the hard plastic chair connected to his chair.

When I glanced over at him again, he was staring directly at me, wearing an equally soft smile. What did I say to that?

“You do?”

“It took me a minute, but yeah,” he replied. “I seem to remembering seeing more of you last night.”

Now, I was almost 100 percent sure Mark wasn’t flirting with me, but the sentence alone was suggestive enough wasn’t it? Yes, it was a reference to my astonishingly and uncharacteristically low-cut dress and yes, my boobs were far more out last night than tonight, but I was sure there were a lot of other things that I believed he would find unnoticeable about me. Like the layers of makeup that was smeared across my face.

I gave out an airy laugh, feeling my lungs begging for me to start breathing again. “Oh, yeah. I was...in a dress.”

“You looked good last night, you just didn’t say anything,” Mark said, nodding his head. “But can I let you in on a secret?”

All of this seemed like a cheesy, insufferable dream that I couldn’t wake up from. How was this real life? How was he sitting here next to me, knee casually bumping mine every once in a while, staring into my face like this?

I blinked a couple of times and my head moved but there was no way to be sure if it was a nodding motion or a shaking motion.

Apparently it was a nod because Mark began to shift, his arm reaching around the back of my seat. It took almost no time before I was enveloped in a cocoon of body heat and sandalwood. My whole body began to buzz, my nerves so frazzled by the sudden closeness that my lungs forgot to expand to take in more air. Lips parted, I watched as his face neared my own. All I could remember in that moment was how pink and plump his lips were as they stretched into a smile.

“You look gorgeous without the makeup.”

By this point, it was a complete mystery how I was still alive. One thing I was sure of: I was fucking delusional. There was no way I heard him right and there was no way he said what he said.

The heat in my cheeks seemed to be an acceptable response as Mark leaned back to his previous position, keeping his arm around the back of my seat. His profile was the only thing I could catch in my peripheral and it was enough to keep my breath stuck in the back of my throat, choking me.

Bowing my head in silent gratitude, he grinned back at me. “So, how do you know Jackson?”

My throat felt strained and tired when I forced myself to immediately respond. “We train together.”

His eyes sparkled with interest. “You’re a fencer?”

I nodded.

“Really?” he replied rhetorically, nodding his head. “Hm, I don’t think I’ve seen you around the facility before.”

It wasn’t much of a secret that Mark wasn’t aware of my existence around the facility. If he was even halfway aware, he would definitely know about my shamelessly excessive staring. So the surprise didn’t really hit at that. It was the following sentence that wrecked me.

“So you’re Jackson’s Y/N.”

When he saw how confused the statement made me, he giggled again, making my heart soar for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

“Jinyoung mentions you here and there.”

The groan immediately bounded from somewhere deep in my gut. It was unstoppable. As soon as he mentioned Jinyoung, I knew what kind of talk Mark must’ve heard about me and it made me want to pull my hair out.

Mark’s features softened as he watched my reaction like a hawk. “You two must be friends,” he joked.

“When the fucking moon floats off into space somewhere is when we become friends,” I mumbled.

That wasn’t a secret either, that Jinyoung talked major shit about me behind my back. He’s been doing it for years and he’s pretty damn good at it now that we’re older. But I was hoping he didn’t find me interesting enough to talk about me in front of his teammate Mark. Apparently I was a victim of wishful thinking.

Another high-pitched giggle sounded and I immediately felt myself laughing as well. It was like music to my ears. The anger that built up at the mention of Jinyoung began to melt away at the sound of Mark’s giggle and I wondered if he would laugh again during this conversation.

“He really has a stick up his ass about you.”

“He was born with a stick up his ass,” I replied. “I should know, I was there and checked it.”

That was a lie. I was younger than Jinyoung but it felt somewhat satisfying to talk shit about him without having his obnoxiously big mouth present.

“What did you do to him? Kick his puppy, pee in his cereal, break a pair of sentimental chopsticks?”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “All I did was exist and that boy has been at my throat ever since.”

Mark tilted his head skeptically. “There’s got to be an origin story though?”

An over exaggerated shrug was my response. “We literally met as babies and he decided he didn’t like me then.”

Another melodic giggle passed through his full lips and I inwardly sighed. It was like settling into sand on some beach. While inner me settled into the white sands of some tropical getaway, basking in the sunlight provided by Mark’s attention, I shook my head.

“Our personalities just don’t mesh.”

“But you were at his house party last night?”

I almost face palmed in real life, afraid that I would have to explain why I showed up. Either way the main reason I showed up was for Mark, but I wasn’t willing to admit that aloud, especially not to him.

Taking a deep breath, I tilted my head from side to side as I looked back at the beautiful guy beside me. “It’s hard to explain, but he’s always invited me,” I said, knowing how crazy it sounded. “I just wanted to kill his vibe for a night and actually show up. Since, you know, he only invites me because he just knows I won’t show up.”

“Fair enough.”

“If you ever get the chance, fucking smash his face okay? For me and for you,” I continued. “If you don’t take your chance when it first shows up, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. That and Jinyoung will never let you live it down.”

The conversation was somewhat astounding. It was easy, it was comfortable and by far the first and longest conversation I ever had with Mark. And I didn’t cry or try to run away. That was a success in my book.

Jackson showed up shortly after that, clapping his hands loudly to interrupt the two of us. His face looked...different. There was something about the way his dark brown eyes slid between Mark and I that made me feel kind of strange. Did I do something wrong?

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice friendly and light, the usual tone. But his face seemed...different.

Mark immediately responded, obviously not seeing anything off or different.

So maybe I was just being crazy...

It was the last frame and Namjoon sealed his night of dismal bowling with yet another gutter ball. While most of us laughed, his teammate JB welcomed him with a two-handed high five and a pat on the back.

Now it was Jackson’s turn.

As he picked up his neon green bowling ball, he gave the top of it a soft tap with his palm before he immediately turned around, stunning everyone. It seemed like everyone’s attention was always on Jackson when his turn came around.

Heavy footsteps sounded against the wood floor of the lane, a sweet smile on his face before it slipped into a flirty look.

"Do me a favor?" He asked, voice husky and rough. It didn't take him long to stand directly in front of me, staring me down. This was obviously another test. It didn't matter that my mind was still jumbled and focused on Mark.  

"Sure," I said, trying to act as normally as possible.  

Lifting the bowling ball between us, his eyes glowed with some kind of anticipation. "Can you kiss it for me? For good luck, you know?"  

I arched an eyebrow as I gave out an easy laugh—already an Oscar-worthy performance from me. Regular bestie me would've never entertained this idea.  

"You don't need it, you're already in first place," I pointed out.

To be completely fair to the other bowlers, Mark would’ve been in first place if he cared more. But the guy was more concerned with practicing his perfect spin instead of focused on the game. Somehow that made him far more attractive.  

"Yes, but I want to keep my spot."  

"Is it necessary for me to--"  

And that's when Jackson gave me the look. I must've been reverting to bestie mode when he needed me in girlfriend mode. My unwillingness to agree to kiss his bowling ball probably stemmed from the fact that Mark was here. Pretending to be Jackson's girlfriend didn’t seem all that hard before, but with the added fact that Mark could see us—that only made me uncomfortable. He was the guy that I liked, not Jackson and now he would have to watch me be girlfriend to my best friend or at least try.  

Hesitating just a little bit, I sighed beforeI stood, taking a step forward. Maintaining eye contact with Jackson, I leaned forward just enough so that my lips were mere inches away from the hard and cold ball. Placing a soft kiss against it, Jackson winked at me.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” he said as he triumphantly walked back toward the lane.

As he positioned himself to bowl, I could feel eyes burning into my skin. It wasn’t just one pair, it was three pairs of eyes. Everyone in our group was staring and for a moment, I wished I could’ve taken back the last few seconds of my life. I lived my life without attention. That’s how I survive. But to have everyone’s attention in the group? It felt strange.

Nobody witnessed Jackson’s flawless strike.

The walk back to the training facility didn’t feel so long. Everyone was sectioned off into their teams, laughing and talking. But things were oddly quiet between Jackson and I as we walked far ahead of both teams. Namjoon and JB were bragging about how awful they were so loudly we could hear it. The two usually quiet people in the group were fueled by humor and beer--the main reason JB wasn’t driving back to the facility instead.

After the silence came to a strange point, Jackson looked over at me meekly and somewhat nervously. Those were two expressions I wasn’t used to when it came to Jackson.

“So I saw you and Mark got a second shot at speaking,” he said, smirking at me.

All traces of his previous expressions somehow fell off in the middle of his sentence.

Blushing and bashful, I looked away. Almost like some fizzy soda, my core radiated some bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach as I recalled my conversation with Mark. He was fun, he was cute, he had his attention on me the whole time and it was better than I thought it would be. I didn’t even say anything remotely embarrassing. But the current display I had going in front of Jackson--this was embarrassing.

Hiding half my face behind my left hand, I sighed. “I’m such a dork.”

Jackson nudged me encouragingly, laughing lightly. “It looked good though! He at least knows your name and has seen your face. He’ll remember you.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because he’s really good at that kind of stuff.”

“Doesn’t make me any less of a dork.”

“But you’re a lovable dork.”

A gap in conversation emerged shortly after he said that, but nobody seemed halfway obligated to fill it. So we continued to walk up another hill in silence. The odd energy from Jackson was still there, but I wasn’t going to bring it up. At least not tonight. But it seemed it wasn’t going to go unanswered or unaccounted for much longer.

Pausing at the top of the hill, I noticed Jackson halted completely. I turned to face him, eyebrows knitted together. “Did you forget something back at the bowling alley?”

Jackson blinked before he shook his head, his expression softening as he closed the space between us. Arms stretched toward me, his hands came up to cup both sides of my face. And for a moment I felt compelled to ask him what he was doing.

I never did though. I knew what this was. Tonight was all about appearances. So instead of voicing my endless list of questions, I let my own hands grip onto Jackson’s wrists lightly, my eyes searching his face. I wondered how sickeningly coupley this looked. I also wondered if anyone was paying attention.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said, his voice no different from how he normally addressed me.

“It was a test run right?”

He nodded. “And for the final part of the test ride.”

I could feel muscles tensing as the anticipation built up. Everything about his vibe was completely off and his hands cupping my face while his fingertips lightly traced along my cheeks made me nervous.

And that’s when he leaned close, his steady breath fanning over my forehead as he gave me a reassuring smile. “I’m going to do something. Don’t freak out.”

My lips jutted slightly in a pout as I began to question him.

I felt it before I saw it. My vision blurred momentarily, rendering me partially blind to what Jackson was doing. But just as my vision became useless, I felt something soft and smooth hit my lips. No, not just soft and smooth. Something soft, smooth and warm brushed against my lips and held there.

And that’s when it hit me.

My best friend was kissing me.

My training and sparring partner was kissing me.

My fake “boyfriend” was kissing me.

Jackson was kissing me.

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 12

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, y’all, this is literally ALL SMUT. Please, please, PLEASE do NOT read if you are under 18. That being said, I’m pretty happy with how this ended up! I hope you guys enjoy it, and please give me feedback. I CRAVE feedback on smut more than anything else. Do not be afraid to be super honest, okay?

A strike-through means your tag didn’t work, my friends.

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban, @paintballkid711

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @heregoestheworld, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincereleygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog, @casual-vaporwave, @xfangirl-trashx, @thefutureartteacher, @randomkpoplover97, @spaghetittiesbcimgay, @thebookisbtr, @artxfuck

Word Count: 3345

Tags: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT (do NOT read if under 18), dirty talk, oral (female receiving), some fluff and cuteness, some nipple play, hair pulling (Peter loves it and no one can tell me otherwise), brief insecurity and anxiety, brief allusion to previous shitty lovers

“If you keep looking at me like that, or touching me like that… it’ll be hard to keep myself from absolutely devouring you and making you scream my name.”

Peter’s words echoed in your ears as your hand froze in his hair. The way he said it made your heart pound in your ears. Goosebumps erupted on your arms, and after looking at Peter’s beautifully soft lips, you decided to just go for it.

It was a night of bravery, you decided.

Leaning down slightly, you moved his arm and pressed your lips to his with as much passion as you could. He let out a small sound in surprise but was kissing you back nearly instantaneously. As you nipped his lip, a groan came from Peter’s throat and you were suddenly pinned underneath him, his eyes burning down at you with loving lust.

“You’re such a tease, aren’t you?” he murmured deliciously, the deeper-than-normal timbre vibrating through your body.

“Perhaps,” you replied, biting your lip slightly as you gazed up at him.

Peter quirked a brow and them his thumb was coming up to your lip. “If I don’t get that gorgeous lip, you don’t either,” he chuckled.

“Then take it if you want it,” you whispered before giving his thumb a light lick.

With another growl that made you shiver in the best way, Peter dipped down and hungrily pressed his lips to yours. He caught your bottom lip in his teeth and sucked slightly, eliciting a tiny whimper from your mouth. You threw your arms around his neck and pressed into him; one hand tangled itself in his hair and tugged ever so slightly.

Things were going wonderfully until Peter’s hand started playing with the bottom of your shirt. That snapped you back to reality and you found yourself pushing him back.

“What’s wrong, love?” Peter asked as he nuzzled into your neck.

Unable to find the words, as Peter teased a finger under your shirt, you grabbed his hand frantically, but gently.

“I, uh,” you stuttered, “I’m, um…”

Peter seemed to understand, moving his hand from your stomach and shirt. “You’re worried I’ll run away.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to stave off tears. “I, well, I’m, um… not the prettiest, especially not my tummy. And… it’s worse than you’d think. I just… don’t want you to think I’m gross.”

“Have people run before?” Peter asked gently, sitting back before helping you sit up.

“Not exactly… but they always treated me differently.” You glanced at him before shutting your eyes once more.

Peter’s eyes flashed with anger, the fire burning hotter as tears escaped your eyes at the memories. You barely felt yourself move before Peter was hugging you to his chest, one arm wrapping up and around your head to hold the back of your neck.

“I’m so sorry they did that to you,” he whispered to you, the pain and anger evident in his voice. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Never again… never again while I’m alive will you have to deal with it. I promise.”

You squeezed Peter closer and let out a muffled sob into his chest. It didn’t take you long to calm down; Peter’s hand rubbing on your back helped you breathe easier.

Angling back, Peter’s hands came up to cup your cheeks. He thumbed away a few tears before pressing the sweetest kiss to your forehead.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to yours and shut his eyes. “But I do want to touch you, feel you, see you, when you’re ready. You could never drive me away, Y/N. I promise.”

“I… believe you, Peter,” you found yourself admitting. His sincerity seeped into your bones. “I want to, Peter. I want to… make love to you, fuck you, whichever term you want to use… I believe you, but… you’re sure, right?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” he replied vehemently, pressing a kiss to your lips for good measure.

“Okay,” you chuckled against his lips.

The kiss quickly turns heated again, but less hungry than before. It’s desperate in a different way, as if Peter is trying to convey everything that he feels into one kiss. Even more than that, it’s desperate to feel, to know, to… to love.

This particular kiss almost makes you tear up again.

“Please let me show you how wrong they all were… please, Y/N. You deserve to feel good and loved,” Peter pleaded a breath’s width from your lips.

Your heart was warm as you smiled up at him. “Only if I get to do the same.”

Peter beamed as he laid you back gently. “Who am I to deny a gorgeous girl her wishes? Especially one so pure?”

You bit your lip and quickly flipped Peter over while he was distracted. “Who said I was thinking completely pure things?” you whispered in his ear before nipping his earlobe.

Peter’s chuckle quickly turned into a breathy exhale as you began to kiss behind his ear. He placed his hands on your waist and gently urged you to sit comfortably on top of him. You cautiously placed your weight on top of him as you moved your lips around his neck.

He was rock hard underneath you, in more ways than one. Your mind was racing with possible thoughts of what to do, yet you were internally rather collected. While you were still slightly anxious about Peter seeing you without a shirt on, his hands gripping your waist, and his hard cock pressing up against you through his clothes, that was where your focus was.

Peter let out a breathy moan as you kissed along his collarbone. The moan became deeper as you slowly gave him a hickey while beginning to grind on him. His grip on your waist was tight, and you internally moaned at the thought of him leaving light bruises to remind you of this night for the next few days. It made you more excited and wet.

You moved back up to Peter’s lips, taking a small detour to mouth across his jaw and delight in his small whimper. As you devoured his lips, Peter’s hands urged you to grind against him more. You happily obliged, letting out a breathy moan into Peter’s mouth.

“Fuck, even your small moans are amazing,” Peter murmured against your lips.

You exhaled through your nose in amusement as you nipped his lip and rolled your hips. Peter’s grip tightened, his eyes flashed and the next thing you knew, you were on your back again. His smirked at you as he leaned up to give you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

Peter’s fluffy curls tickled your face as he moved down your body. He found the sweet spot on your neck and sucked lightly, making your breath hitch. Peter chuckled and worked a hickey onto your neck, delighting at your hands running through his hair. When he bit your collarbone and you pulled his hair a bit in response, Peter let out another growl.

“You are going to drive me crazy,” he murmured as he moved down. Peter nosed along the hem of your shirt, slowly moving it up so he could kiss your skin.

As he kissed the bits of skin on your stomach as they were available, Peter slipped his fingers in the band of your pajama pants and underwear. His eyes sparkled up at you, causing you to bite your lip in response. You just wanted him to fucking touch you already.

Apparently, you said that aloud.

Peter chuckled and pressed a kiss to your hips. You thought he would continue down, maybe, but instead, he moved upwards. His hands pushed your shirt up. Apparently, he heard the spike in your heartrate, because he pressed a soft kiss to the skin of your stomach.

Your lover continued up with his kisses, moving your shirt up with them. He gently asked you to sit up, and off came your pajama shirt. Peter’s hands were gentle as he reassured you with more kisses. You laid back, letting him move in to kiss and suck along the top of your breasts. He quickly moved up and sucked a hickey onto your collarbone.

Peter palmed over your breast, obviously pretty happy that you weren’t wearing a bra (because you were ready for bed when he’d arrived). In response to him tweaking your nipple slightly, just the way you happened to like it, you pulled on his hair, silently urging him on.

With a dark chuckle, Peter sucked your other nipple into his mouth. You let out a moan that you abruptly cut off, but he popped off and raised a brow.

“Nope, babe,” he murmured as he twisted your nipple gently, “I want to hear everything you’ve got. Let’s wake up the neighbors, hm?”

Your breathy laugh was cut off as he pulled your nipple with his teeth. The laugh quickly turned into a gasp, which obviously prompted a chuckle from Peter.

He laved his tongue over your nipple, eliciting all sorts of whimpers from you in response. Your hands traveled from his hair to his shoulders and back again. You didn’t know what to do with them as you were riled up by Peter’s tongue and hands.

Peter upped the ante as one hand slid down to squeeze your hip. Everywhere his hands went, warmth followed, setting every nerve on edge. His hand dipped from your hip to underneath your pajama bottoms. You inhaled a sharp breath as he rubbed one finger over the crotch of your panties, which were already soaking.

“Oh, baby, you’re positively soaked for me,” he smirked into your skin, obviously delighting in how your body reacted to him. “You ever been this wet before?” He punctuated the question by pressing against your clothed clit.

“Only when I think about you,” you breathed out without thinking.

Peter stopped his ministrations and suddenly his face was above yours. “You’ve touched yourself while thinking about me?”

Suddenly incredibly shy, you nodded and bit your lip.

Peter’s face lit up at your admission; he captured your lips in a searing kiss as his fingers moved your panties to the side and played with your clit. You moaned into his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

Your hips canted up into his hand as he pressed one finger into you while rubbing your clit. Peter bit your lip and pulled just as he pressed another finger into your wetness. The groan that left you was surprising, but Peter ate it up.

Peter rubbed your g-spot and rubbed your clit simultaneously. You pressed up into him, feeling his hard cock against you. Taking his lip in your teeth, Peter moaned and moved his hand faster.

“Please, Peter,” you breathed out, “I need more, please.”

The smirk he gave you as he moved down your body nearly set you on fire.

Peter slid your pajamas and panties off in one go, tossing them both over his shoulder. He tore out of his boxers and your mouth watered when you saw his cock. He was painfully hard, leaking precum. He was a bit longer than you’d had before, and he had a good amount of girth. You wanted him, desperately.

You expected him to ask you for a condom, or if you were on birth control. No, he did not. Instead, he crawled between your legs and spread them apart.

His tongue was on your clit and your hands shot to his hair. One of his hands gripped your thigh as his tongue dipped down to taste you. He moaned into your cunt as his tongue did its work, making you moan in response. A shot of electricity ran up your spine as he grinded his length into the mattress.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he breathed as he moved back to your clit.

“You feel amazing,” you breathed out as you tugged his hair.

Peter chuckled, the vibrations running through your clit and to your body. You had been on edge for what felt like forever, but he wasn’t ready to let you fall yet. You knew because he lessened his ministrations on your clit ever so slightly. As he did, though, he slid three thick fingers into your soaking pussy.

“Oh, please, please, Peter,” you begged heavily, pushing your hips up to his mouth. “Please, Peter, you feel so good, please, I want to cum so badly, please.” His other arm came up to hold your hips down, easily using his strength to keep you down. It was sexy as fuck.

“Mmm, baby, are you sure you’re ready?” Peter asked as he slammed his fingers into your wet heat, rubbing against your g-spot all the while. “Fuck, you sound so dirty, Y/N, all for me, yeah? Can’t wait to fuck you, Y/N.”

“Fuck, yes, Peter, please, you feel so good, just wanna be good for you, please, please, please make me cum!” you cried out, one hand tight in his hair as the other gripped his shoulder like a vice. He was still grinding into the mattress, making you even more on edge.

“As you wish,” he chuckled sexily, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

Peter rubbed your g-spot repeatedly as he flicked his tongue over your clit. You came with a load moan of his name, pressing up into his mouth and digging your nails into his shoulder. He groaned as you clamped on his fingers, pulsing around them.

He couldn’t wait to have you wrapped around his cock.

Your amazingly sexy lover worked you through your orgasm, pulling back just as you were too sensitive. You turn into jelly on your bed, panting heavily, a light sheen of sweat covering your body. Peter hummed happily as he slid up your body and curled next to you.

“You okay?” he asked, even as his cock was begging for actual attention.

Still a little high, you flickered your eyes to him and nodded. Peter laughed brightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so, so gorgeous, baby,” Peter murmured, one hand coming up to push some hair from your face.

You hummed happily at his touch, whispering a thank you to his lips. As you kissed, you were obviously ready for more, kissing him more fervently. Sliding one hand down his chest, you gripped his cock in your hand, internally marveling at the feel of it.

“Oh, wait, wait, wait,” Peter interrupted you as you had begun to slowly stroke him.

Your hand flew off him and tucked behind your back. “What’s wrong? I’m so sorry, what did I do? I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again—”

Peter stopped your rambling apology with a gentle kiss. “Y/N, baby, there’s nothing I want more than you to learn my body as well as I’ve learned yours so far, but if you touch me too much, this will be over much faster than I would like.”

You smiled bashfully and nipped his lip softly. Peter grinned and quickly positioned himself over you. Quickly reaching into your nightstand, you tossed him a condom.

“Thanks, was just about to ask,” Peter chuckled as he carefully opened the condom and slid it on with a light hiss.

“You make me feel so good, Peter,” you said gently as he lined himself up with your entrance. Peter used his hand to guide himself in, quickly swiping through your juices with a delicious moan.

“Fuck, Y/N, this might not last long anyway,” he breathed out as he pushed into you.

“I don’t care as long as it’s you,” you breathed out, moaning as he filled you perfectly.

“You’re too sweet,” Peter chuckled as he bottomed out.

Peter stilled for a few moments, looking down at you with an adoring fire in his eyes. A hand came up to cup your cheek; you turned your head to kiss his palm, making him smile.

Rocking your hips up, you ran your hands up and down his chest. “C’mon, Peter, please move, you feel so good, please fuck me, please.”

It was obvious that Peter loved dirty talk, both hearing it and speaking it himself. He also seemed to adore praise, so as he pulled out and pushed back in slowly, you started whispering about how good he made you feel, how much you liked him.

Peter sped up as you squeezed around him, his own praise for you falling from his lips. His deep voice set your further on edge and you rocked against him. Peter’s cock filled you beautifully, dragging across your g-spot with each thrust. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist and reached even deeper, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

You pushed up on an elbow and brought Peter’s lips down to yours. It was less a kiss and more of a desperate mashing of your lips together, but it was what you wanted, what you needed. Lacing your hand through Peter’s hair and tugging slightly, you swallowed his moan desperately, squeezing your cunt around his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, Y/N,” Peter cursed into your mouth, taking one hand and offering you his fingers. You took his fingers in your mouth without hesitation, slicking them up quickly and delighting in his deep groan.

Peter took his fingers from your mouth and rubbed your clit. You vaguely heard yourself saying something, likely something akin to praise and/or begging, but all that mattered was Peter, Peter filling you and loving you and making you feel amazing.

“C’mon, Y/N, come on, baby, cum for me, please,” Peter whispered into your ear, his pace fast but a little sloppy, both your orgasms right there.

His words made you cum harder than you had earlier, which was a feat in and of itself. As you basically screamed his name, Peter buried himself in your wet heat, moaning your name into your neck.

The two of you remained tangled together for a minute or two, catching your breath.

Peter slid out of you and got off the bed, though he was a bit wobbly on his legs. You could hear him puttering around in the room, likely tying off the condom and tossing it. Still out of breath and a bit too much like jelly, you didn’t quite hear Peter walking into your bathroom and turning on the water.

You weren’t sure of how much time had passed, but Peter returned and gently kissed your lips. With a smile, you kissed him back.

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s get you up and into the bathroom,” he urged you gently.

You hummed and nodded, slowly sitting up. Peter chuckled at your state, making you glare jokingly at him. He guided you to the bathroom and urged you to pee before you climbed into the bath that he had waiting for you.

Peter turned away while you peed, only turning back when you were done and already in the bathtub. He climbed in behind you, even though it was a tight squeeze, and began to massage your shoulders.

“You’re too good, Peter,” you mused as his hands worked into the knots of your body.

“Nonsense, Y/N, this isn’t even close to what you deserve,” Peter said easily. “You deserve much more than this.”

You turned around in the bath and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I only want you, Pete. As long as you’ll have me, I just need you.”

Peter grinned, wrapping you in his arms. “I feel the same, Y/N.”

It was a relatively quick bath, with the both of you soaking for a bit before climbing out. You toweled each other off, pressing kind and loving kisses into each other’s skin. After that, you gave Peter a pair of sweatpants and you put a long t-shirt on.

You and Peter climbed into bed and curled around each other. Sleep captured both of you easily, with sweet smiles on your faces.

[goldenhopeworld]

I kinda wrote a YugKook thing… because I couldn’t resist and they’re so soft for each other :((

[ma-ng]

come back for me (ii)

chapters: i. , ii. , iii. , iv. , v.

ao3 link for those who prefer

so i’m adding the second chapter that i have to this with the third yet to be written. hope you enjoy this as much as the first chapter!!

ii. careful

“how could you do this to me,” jackson whines loud and long. it crackles over the speaker of his phone, the device obviously not made for the speaker option it offers but jinyoung brushes it off and shrugs. jackson’s pout isn’t in hd on the screen, but even if it was, jinyoung still wouldn’t succumb to it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” jinyoung answers instead with an exaggerated shrug that forces laughter out of taehyung. the older witch does not smile as he continues to chop loudly, pausing to read the cookbook next to him in an effort to follow the recipe.

jackson whines once more, this time just a string of noises that probably could never be words, not matter what language he was speaking. “I can’t even see him now? I know he’s there! I can hear him!”

jinyoung shoots a look at taehyung, raising his eyebrows at the wide grin on the five-year-old’s face. the boy has decided that he’s going to move around the kitchen only just out of frame, ducking under the countertop like a spy and rolling around on the floor to make sure that jackson has no hope of catching him on screen. jinyoung does think that his foster kid might have a mischievous streak in him as taehyung makes no attempt to stifle the noises he makes; little gasping sounds as he strikes a pose once he’s gotten from one side of the kitchen to the other, grunts as he makes an effort to roll, or walk on his toes, laughter whenever jinyoung shuts jackson down without so much as a flinch.

slowly moving his eyes once more to the cookbook, he doesn’t risk looking at jackson’s face. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m alone in the kitchen right now.”

out of the corner of his eye he spots the gaping mouth of his best friend just before he shifts to add chopped ingredients to the pot, stirring with a wooden spoon. with his back turned, he allows a brief grin before schooling his features once more. “that’s lies! so many lies!” jackson closes his mouth with a snap and points at the camera, fingertip alarmingly as large as his head on screen. “don’t you dare lie to me, park jinyoung.”

for his credit, jinyoung fakes the best offended expression he can manage, going so far as to drop what he’s got in his hands on the counter and press a hand to his chest. “ me ? lying to you ? I don’t believe it. why on earth would I ever lie to you?”

the chinese witch says nothing, just huffs loudly and crosses his arms over his chest, pout prominent on his lips. the whole picture is incredibly childish, probably more suited to taehyung who’s slowly peeking out from the side of the counter, watching the adult and laughing so loud his mouth makes a square instead of the box-like grin, jaw hanging open. the sound is enough to make jinyoung’s lips twitch and he returns to his cookbook.

it’s not even five minutes later, when jinyoung’s managed to get taehyung to help him by handing him several things he knows the boy can reach — including one time where his hand is actually in frame and jackson gasps audibly, demanding a live replay that has taehyung bent over at the waist laughing and jinyoung unable to stop a few snort-like laughs — that jackson mumbles rather than whines.

“can I see him?”

jinyoung sends the smallest of looks down at taehyung, and then is very blatant with how he locks eyes with jackson. “I don’t know; can you?”

it takes a second, but taehyung is laughing loudly again and jackson is practically squawking on the other end of the call, the feed blurred as he no doubt takes his frustration out by shaking the camera. jinyoung tries not to laugh, he really does, pressing his lips together in a thin line but it’s no use. his eyes smile without his consent and suddenly one of his best friends is glaring daggers at him.

“park jinyoung,” he starts and points a finger at the screen. “I am disgusted , and I am offended —”

jinyoung barks out a laugh. “don’t be such a drama queen. but. if you want to see taehyung so badly, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to introduce himself.”

the five-year-old scrambles immediately onto his tiptoes, stretching out an arm at an angle to reach for the phone. it slams screen down on the tabletop before taehyung manages to grab it, but his fingers gain purchase just before jinyoung can ask him to be a bit more careful. jinyoung watches as taehyung stands triumphantly with the phone, proud smile on his face and striking a pose—

only to laugh openly once he stares at the upside-down jackson on the screen. the boy turns it up the right way and grins — wide, precious and box-like. when he speaks, it’s in english, and catches both adults by complete surprise. “hello!”

“hello!” jackson says back, in english,  after a moment of just staring. he smiles wide and shifts about on screen until he’s sitting up wherever he is. “I didn’t know you knew english.”

taehyung looks lost a little, blinking owlishly. he turns to look up at jinyoung, the smile gone as he mumbles, now in korean, “I don’t know what he’s saying, jinyoung-hyung. do you know?”

jinyoung laughs when jackson starts spluttering on screen, a smattering of english and korean falling from the speakers. taehyung’s eyeing him with the phone at arm’s length, and it just makes jinyoung laugh even harder, hand hovering in front of his mouth and shoulders shaking. taehyung’s hand hovers in front of the screen, looking just a little uneasy when jackson still hasn’t seemed to gather the grasp of korean once more.

“it’s— it’s okay, taehyung,” jinyoung says between laughter, dropping his hand to show the grin it was hiding. “jackson-ah is fluent in a lot of languages so sometimes he gets mixed up with his korean.”

moving forward, the witch ducks down until he’s level with taehyung, shifting the boy’s small hand so his face shows up on the screen. “jackson-ah—” the man is still blabbering so he yells, maybe. “yah, jackson!” the chinese witch stares wide-eyed, hand paused mid-movement. jinyoung raises his eyebrows slowly, staying quiet for several seconds. “korean, yeah?”

the nod he gets is a late, but he waits for it, knows it’s coming, and sends his friend a nod and a smile. when he stands, he pats taehyung’s back, locking eyes with the child. “talk to him slowly for a little bit until he catches his bearings again, yeah?”

taehyung looks back at the screen again. there’s still the unease on his face, teeth worrying his bottom lip, and jinyoung finds himself wondering again. there has to be a reason for the boy to freak out over a splattering of languages being thrown at him, right? he’s such an open boy, having talked jaebum’s ear off the whole time the day before, intent on doing everything the florist had instructed him to do. there hadn’t been a single problem during the whole day, nothing that would have made outsiders suspect that the three of them were nothing more than family, maybe.

the unease slowly shifts around on the boy’s face, drawing jinyoung’s attention back to the present when his teeth let go of the captive lip. even if he mumbles, his words are paced out as per jinyoung’s advice, and it makes him smile softly as he turns down the heat of the stove. “are you a witch too, jackson-ssi?”

“I— yeah, I am.” jackson lowers his hand and uses it to rub at his face. “and you can call me hyung, taehyung. we’re not— I want to be your friend, yeah?”

taehyung stares for a moment, and then beams at him wide, eyes curving. “okay!”

jinyoung wakes to knocks on his bedroom door.

it throws him through a loop when he opens his eyes and his bedroom is practically pitch black. the silence is heavy and lays atop him like a blanket, spilling into his ears and cushioning his mind. he tries to reason with himself why he could have woken up; the lack of knocks making him think if he’s paranoid, or maybe he was simply dreaming something that he can’t remember but pulled at upsetting strings. he doesn’t need to go to the bathroom, the normal pressure in his bladder when he wakes strangely lacking.

he rolls over onto his other side and curls up, pulling his duvet up under his chin and closing his eyes. his intention is to sleep again, mind far too exhausted to think too much about the possible reasoning to wake. he’s only just dipping his toes into sleep once more when knocks — much more timid than the first time — reach his ears.

pushing himself up onto his back, he sets himself up on his elbows, squinting in the direction of his bedroom door. “taehyung?”

the door opens slowly, hardly any light pouring in from the hallway, and jinyoung can only just make out the small body that hasn’t let go of the doorknob. taehyung fiddles with a pikachu plush that he holds close. somehow, jinyoung knows the boy isn’t looking at him.

“taehyung?”

“can… can I sleep with you tonight, hyung?” taehyung asks quietly, mumbles really, words slurred and pronunciation the last of his friends to join the party. his head is bowed, arms tight around the stuffed toy; he looks so small that the older witch gnaws on his tongue without thinking.

“of course you can,” he replies immediately, and fidgets about in his bed. “did you have a bad dream?”

taehyung stumbles forward without closing the door, and jinyoung decides to let it go for now. watching the small boy feel his way to jinyoung’s bed and then wait for the older witch to pull back the covers so he could climb inside was enough to make jinyoung’s already soft heart even softer. he wraps his arms around the five-year-old, pulling the duvet up until the two of them are almost swallowed in it.

jinyoung frowns when he feels the little boy trembling against him, and takes it upon himself to rub his back gently. “the bad dreams can’t get you any more, okay? I’ll make sure of it.” he tucks the child’s head under his chin and cups the back of his head. “only the best for my little taehyung, yeah?”

taehyung burrows closer, and jinyoung can feel one hand fist his pyjama shirt. as smoothly as he can, so he doesn’t jostle the scared boy too much, he smooths his thumb over taehyung’s temple and closes his eyes. it’s difficult to mouth anything when you’ve got a small head tucked under your chin with the intent of allowing the owner to sleep. it takes him a moment to reposition himself so he can murmur soundlessly to his heart’s content. he thinks of things taehyung had been adamant about showing him over the last few days; pokemon, power rangers, an array of disney movies that jackson had brought over the first time he’d met taehyung in person.

jinyoung tries his hardest to concentrate on a nice dream, on something that would ease taehyung to sleep and make him ignore whatever it was that had scared him enough to wander into jinyoung’s room. it just had to be a bad dream, right? or maybe he didn’t like being away from his parents. but his parents weren’t overly fond of him, so would he have been allowed to sleep with them in their bed if he got scared?

he pushes the thoughts away. he needs to concentrate on weaving the dream for taehyung until he feels the boy take hold of it and mold it to his own desires, his own interests. it isn’t difficult to keep the nightmares at bay with a child, jinyoung has found, and he happily lets it go almost completely when he feels faint and even breathes against his neck. undeterred, he continues rubbing taehyung’s temple with his thumb for five more minutes before he decides to attempt to sleep once more himself.

the e-mail about taehyung arrives almost a week after he’s been put into jinyoung’s care. honestly, jinyoung would have thought it would have been only a few days wait, but apparently he’d been mistaken. the discrimination that eunhui mentioned bubbles up. he shoots a look over at taehyung, who’s still in his pyjamas eating cereal on the sofa, small feet occasionally swinging. surely, taehyung’s just a kid, they wouldn’t want to risk the boy’s health, would they?

he returns his attention back to the e-mail once he’s sure taehyung is completely immersed in the power rangers currently on screen. the beginning is just general information, some of which he already knew, some of which he didn’t. his eyebrows shoot up at the presence of a medical file. he wasn’t expecting the worst from the five-year-old’s family, but the idea that they took him to the hospital to have him checked on makes him wonder if they’ll eventually take him back.

the more he reads, the deeper the frown etches itself onto his face. he blinks when his phone vibrates in his hand, the notification banner presenting itself along the top of the screen. he presses it without thinking, waiting for kakaotalk to load up the group chat.

wang gae [09:32]

have you heard anything from the orphanage yet???

park gae [09:33]

you have impeccable timing

wang gae [09:33]

you’ve heard somthing!??!?!?

snake in the grass [09:33]

uve got to tell us now i will protect him with my life

park gae [09:33]

bambam you haven’t even met him yet

snake in the grass [09:34]

i dont need to thats how much i love him already

noodle legs mcgee [09:34]

damn bammie’s already whipped

snake in the grass [09:34]

did u not see the photo jinyounghyung sent through

jaejaw [09:34]

your inability to write properly hurts me

snake in the grass [09:35]

[Photo sent] look at this little piece of sunshine look at his smile tell me u wouldnt fight for his life

wang gae [09:35]

i told you jinyoung everyone’s going to love taehyung you don’t have to worry about him not fitting in

noodle legs mcgee [09:35]

if bammie’s willing to fight for you then you must be a saint

snake in the grass [09:35]

^^^^^

jaejaw [09:36]

what does the e-mail say, Jinyoung-ah?

park gae [09:36]

his parents actually took him to the doctors. and it turns out he’s not the only witch in their family. he has siblings but they’re all human. the witch relatives he has, his parents refuse to talk about. compared to a lot of cases he hasn’t been ‘severely mistreated’ as they choose to say, and they doubt this will affect him negatively too much.

wang gae [09:37]

of course not getting love from your parents won’t affect you negaitvely at all!!! common sense!!!!!

park gae [09:37]

they aren’t really offering a lot of info about his home situation, which has me wondering. they finished up the e-mail with “We are currently speaking to the parents to see if they wish to make an effort to learn about witchcraft in order to be able to take care and be supportive of their son. So far we have yet to receive a definite answer.”

snake in the grass [09:39]

they can’t have him back ims orry hes mine now hes my son jinyounghyung how do i adopt a small human

wang gae [09:39]

hey!!!!!!!!! if anyone is adopting taehyung it’s jinyoung okay get your own

noodle legs mcgee [09:39]

who made you in charge of taehyung’s new guardian

park gae [09:40]

jackson we’ve talked about this

snake in the grass [09:40]

maybe i will jinyoung sned me ur finest chidl

noodle legs mcgee [09:40]

sned

flyboy [09:40]

chidl

jaejaw [09:40]

Bambam children aren’t wine

park gae [09:41]

I can’t believe I’m friends with all of you

“jinyoung-hyung?”

jinyoung blinks and snaps his eyes up to taehyung. the five-year-old has placed his empty bowl on the table, the spoon sitting inside, and is staring at him curiously. he’s still swinging his feet, a little more purposeful now than before, and jinyoung feels his heart heavily in his ribs at just how adorable the little boy is. he doesn’t think he’ll get over the boy leaving easily.

“yes, taehyung-ah?” he answers, locking the screen of his phone automatically and letting his hand fall in his lap.

taehyung’s eyes flicker to the adult’s phone then back up at his face. “what were you doing?”

“just talking to my friends.” he shifts a little in his spot and sits a little more comfortably, crossing his legs indian style on the sofa. “they were asking about you, you know. a lot of them are still excited to meet you.”

the boy blinks and shuffles closer. “jaebum- and jackson-hyung? but they’ve already met me.”

jinyoung smiles. “I have more friends than that, taehyung-ah. hey,” he says, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes in a mocking fashion of a thoughtful expression. “why don’t we make them all jealous and send them a picture of us together?”

he half expects the small boy to scold him for trying to make his friend’s jealous, or tell him that he wouldn’t want to take a photo under those circumstances, but instead taehyung grins, teeth on display and eyes disappearing into crescent moons. he crawls over as quickly as he can and sits in jinyoung’s lap, grabbing the adult’s free arm and winding it around his waist.

jinyoung grins himself and unlocks his phone easily, clicking on the camera option on kakaotalk and holding the phone up. “now, remember, we want to make them jealous that I get such a wonderful boy to myself, yeah?”

“yeah!” taehyung shouts, sitting up straighter and smiling wider, gazing at jinyoung on the screen.

“that’s it, keep that grin.” jinyoung makes sure that he captures the picture when his own smile forces the whiskering wrinkles at the corner of his eyes to come into view. he shows the picture to taehyung, who pumps his fist in victory and urges jinyoung to send it through the groupchat.

the two of them sit back and watch in amusement as messages come flooding in, taehyung squealing loudly with laughter every time jinyoung goes red-faced and frantically types out messages for his friends to stop swearing, because there is a child present, thank you very much, jackson and bambam .

but it’s worth it, to see the smile that stretches along taehyung’s face. there should probably be some worry in the back of his mind that he’s getting too attached too quickly to the young boy, but he can’t find it in himself to think about it right now. all he knows, is that he’d do anything to keep the small little witch happy. for as long as he lived under jinyoung’s roof, he was going to try and keep taehyung the happiest he could be.

when taehyung first meets mark, he’s got a cold and can barely keep his eyes open.

there’s a small lump on the sofa surrounded by three different blankets that jinyoung normally keeps in the closet for when it’s winter and freezing cold, swaddled in his duvet with empty tissue packets surrounding him and scrunched up used tissues slowly moving in on the coffee table. small hands just about peek out from the mound, holding a warm cup of hot chocolate that occasionally gets slurped out of noisily.

the centre of the mound — a very small witch with drooping eyes, a red nose and chapped lips — stares at the unfamiliar face in front of him with the blankest expression possible. jinyoung had mused through the group chat that a sick taehyung could probably witness murder and be completely unphased.

“hey, taehyungie,” mark says softly with a just as soft smile. he stops just to the side of the mountain of blankets and crouches down. the plastic bag he had held in his hand rustles and taehyung’s eyes briefly zip downwards. “jaebum-ah and I heard you were sick and thought we’d come to visit to cheer you up.”

taehyung blinks a few times, eyes shifting up to jaebum. the florist is standing next to jinyoung, seemingly in conversation, but waves at the five-year-old when he catches his gaze. taehyung sniffs and looks back at mark. “who’re you?”

to his credit, the man doesn’t look offended, merely smiles in amusement. “I’m mark, taehyungie, jaebum’s boyfriend.”

the boy nods once and takes a mouthful of his hot chocolate. he feels sluggish and stuffed up, nose hurting with the pressure of having it blocked. even with his brain not working 100%, at a later date he’ll get embarrassed about not remembering straight away how jaebum had mentioned him the first time the two met. instead, he squints his eyes at mark, looking over his face, auburn hair and deep eyes.

“jaebum said that you like tattoos,” mark pipes up and he shifts about on his feet. he gestures briefly to the spot next to taehyung, “can I sit next to you?”

taehyung nods and sniffs again, watching with tired curiosity as mark fishes something out of his plastic bag and places it on his lap. it’s a hardbound book, the edges slightly bent and scuffed. even in his state and at his age, taehyung can tell it’s been well-used and is possibly old. he blinks and looks up at mark again, noticing from this angle that there are dark lines poking out of the top of the man’s turtleneck.

mark leans in close, shooting a small look to jinyoung and jaebum, and whispers, “I’m a witchy tattoo artist.”

despite the cold, taehyung’s eyes widen as much as possible in their puffy state, small mouth hanging open and forming a perfect ‘o’ shape. “you are?”

the older witch nods and pats the book cover with both hands. “indeed. and I brought along with me some of my sketches and ideas. I thought you might enjoy looking at them.”

taehyung bounces a little where he sits, trying to move about in his mound of blankets so he can see the book better while simultaneously not spilling his hot chocolate over himself and mark. he doesn’t get very far. mark laughs and and shifts instead, making taehyung hold his hot chocolate over his head so he doesn’t knock it with his elbow. when the two settle down again, taehyung is almost in mark’s lap and the hot chocolate has now been put amongst the tissues on the coffee table so it won’t stain the sketches.

mark offers his book and watches with soft eyes as small, dark hands grasp it and fight to fit it on his lap. it’s only just a little too big for his lap, but he manages, and mark offers one of his own hands to keep it steady.

the first few pages are filled with small doodles, either simplistic drawings coloured in black or outlines of little details, such as crowns, moons, clouds, feathers, different herbs that taehyung doesn’t know the name of. taehyung takes his time, eyes wide and awe etched into every single itch of his face. small fingers trace a few of the designs and make sure to be careful and slow as he passes the pages.

“do you, um, do you tattoo non-witches, too?” taehyung asks once he’s seen several different animal sketches, which mark explained to be some of his customers familiars and other just wildlife he’d witnessed and gotten jaebum to photograph for him.

mark blinks. “I have indeed. can I show you something?” he waits for the five-year-old to nod and then starts flicking through his sketchbook for a specific thing. when he finds it, he spreads the page out but makes sure to keep taehyung’s previous place checked with one hand. “I tattooed someone who was pregnant and had heard about me through friends.”

taehyung’s jaw hangs open as he gapes at the tattoo and then looks up at mark with wide eyes. “did it— can it move, too?”

the smile on the older’s face is nothing if not proud and somewhat whimsical. “they came to me because they wanted me to charm the tattoo so that it would show what position the baby was in at all times.”

“that’s so cool,” taehyung breathes and looks back down at the tattoo. he gently traces the curve of the baby’s skull before mark moves back to previous pages.

the next ten minutes are filled with taehyung muttering, “this is so cool!” and “I want this one!” again and again every time. mark just sits next to him with a wide grin on his face, pointing out abilities of every other tattoo, ones that he knows would capture the child’s fascination. he even takes the time to tell the little boy about a tattoo jaebum has on his collarbone and one jinyoung has across his ribs.

jinyoung raises his eyebrows when he can hear taehyung audibly gasp from the kitchen, but says nothing, just looks to jaebum to find a soft smile on his face. taking a mouthful of the tea jaebum had brought with him, the dream weaver tilts his head. “what’s got you looking like you’re falling in love again?”

“taehyung-ah is in love with mark’s art,” jaebum says with a small laugh, moving a little further into the kitchen. he crosses his arms over his chest and rests his hip on the kitchen counter. “but that’s not the only a reason you asked us over, is it?”

jinyoung takes another mouthful and sighs. “I got a call from eunhui last night.”

“okay,” jaebum says with narrowed eyes, darting his gaze all over his friend’s posture and then all over his face. “what did she say?”

“his parents aren’t willing to learn about witchcraft to take him back,” jinyoung says quietly, words measured, eyes flickering behind jaebum to the threshold of the kitchen that leads into the dining and living room. “this isn’t an emergency foster care anymore. it changed from emergency to short term three weeks ago, almost a month now. and now it’s— he’s here long-term, hyung.”

the florist stares at him, narrowed eyes losing their edge and melting into something a lot softer. his fingers smooth over the fabric of his jumper as he thinks. during the time jinyoung had been considering being a foster dad, he had been one of the few people with enough time to do the research with the nervous man. he knows the pressure this could possibly put on his friend, knows that, even if this is what he wanted, it’s still a big step.

he moves to look over his shoulder, pauses, sighs. his arms free themselves only to have his hands rub at his face. “what are you going to do?”

there’s a clink as jinyoung puts his mug down. “I’m not going to give him back to eunhui. I can’t. there isn’t any benefit of him moving foster homes— not now. nobody would take better care of him.” jaebum sends him a look, hands now on the counter, and jinyoung sends him one right back. “discrimination, hyung. and the humans have no idea what to do when his powers start showing up or what to teach him about figuring out what kind of witch he is.”

jaebum’s eyes roam over jinyoung and he moves forward, hand reaching out to grab his friend’s shoulder and give it a squeeze. he feels the tense line under his palm and takes an active step not to look pitying. “okay. this is okay, jinyoung-ah. you take good care of him, you have us as back-up, he loves you to death. this isn’t going to be a bad thing.”

“but I need to tell him,” jinyoung murmurs, head bowing just the slightest bit. “I need to tell him that his parents don’t want him any more, that his parents have said they don’t have any interest in learning about what he is— do you know how traumatic that can be?”

jaebum grinds his teeth together in contemplation, and smooths his hand along jinyoung’s shoulders until he can curl his fingers around the base of the witch’s neck. “jinyoung, we—”

“uhm, hey?”

the two of them jump and turn to look at the threshold of the kitchen, mark’s face poking out from a side. the smile from before isn’t present and, instead, there’s a pull to his brows that jaebum recognises instantly and puts jinyoung at unease. one hand is curled around the doorframe to make sure that the tattoo artist doesn’t fall to the ground, tips of his fingers and knuckles are pale, and it’s possible it’s not just because of the need to stay upright.

“sorry to interrupt but you might—” the three of them jolt when all three of their phones ping at the same time. mark and jinyoung watch with rapt attention as jaebum pats his pockets until he finds his phone and pulls it out. his eyebrows raise at his screen and it’s only seconds before he unlocks his phone.

“you might want to hold that thought, mark-ah,” he says, showing his phone to jinyoung who’s closest and then walking towards his boyfriend to show him the same thing. “looks like you’re going to have a bigger audience than just us.”

solar eclipse [17:32]

everyone needs to meet up at jinyoung-hyung’s house asap non-negotiable

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

→  Mark Teaser The Hyung. The Eyes. The Calm Before the Storm.

He’s in the booth in corner, dark blue suit shielding him further from human eyes. He’s been told to keep an eye on Jaebum, making sure he returned before the sun rose.

Mark, the obedient soldier, picks up his drink, never once losing sight of the younger male sitting at the bar. Angels can’t get drunk but every once in awhile, they liked to play pretend. And tonight, he’d let Jaebum lose himself just for a few more minutes. 

He crosses his legs, handsome features coupled with tousled brown hair attracting a few females over at another table. They start to make their way over but they stop when he smiles, shaking his head. Most listen, understanding he doesn’t want whatever they think he needs. Sometimes they don’t, sauntering over and offering it anyway.

These girls understood and soon he was left alone again to watch over his friend. 

News of the last Bone Witch’s death has reached both Heaven and the depths of Hell, excitement and chaos stirring up on both ends. With her death, Lucifer and his son Mammon could finally carry out the plan they’ve spent centuries preparing for. Father was worried, sending Jackson to bring Jaebum home so they could unite as seven again. 

Instead, Jaebum was here, drowning himself in amber liquid that didn’t affect him. Mark sighs, finishing off the last of his own drink, and makes his way to the leader’s side.

“Those girls really seemed to like you,” Jaebum mutters, signaling for another drink.

Mark’s lips twitch, a smile itching to break through, “Sure they did. Until the next morning when I’m alone and they’ve left me high and dry.”

Jaebum cradles his new drink, eyes as cloudy as the skies outside. They sit and lapse into silence, it’s how their relationship was sometimes, and the younger knows what’s about to be asked. He beats Mark to it, shutting his eyes with his head hanging low, “It wasn’t love. I don’t even think I knew what true love is since I died and became an angel before I could ever really find out. But…”

“…but Rose was different. I know. Don’t forget we’ve all met her. She was smart. And badass. And could handle a demon better than I think Jackson can. But Jae. She’s gone and you have to focus on what’s happening now. Her death leaves a large hole in The Veil. Without a physic to protect it, Lucifer can release Mammon in a corporeal form. Mankind will be fucked if that happens and you know it.”

Jaebum’s grip tightens on his glass, eyes still shut, “I do know. But it’s not that easy. I can’t even properly say goodbye to her. She’s in Hell Mark. Forever damned for her suicide. And now the world is going to burn because she was last person who could keep the balance between here and The Veil.”

When that gets no answer from Mark, he looks up to see a small crease forming between the elder’s brows.

“What’s that look for? Do you know something I don’t?”

Mark stands, brushing off imaginary dirt, adjusting the suit as he turns towards his friend, “Father seems to think Rose wasn’t the last Bone Witch.”

→  Mini Masterlist →  Moodboard credit goes to my honey @yeol-stole-my-soul

[theycallme-tunathot]

Road to Ruin [Chapter 7] Jackson

Pairing: Jackson Wang x Reader Rating: Somewhere between R and NC-17 I suppose Synopsis: Jackson has a big night planned to reintroduce the Reader into his friend group. But he gets a couple of unexpected guests, two people he definitely didn’t invite. Author’s Note: This took me forever. I’m still not happy with this chapter. I cut out at least 2k words and I’m still like...nope. But that’s okay. This chapter is shitty, but the next one will make up for it. The next one is where all the real drama starts :D Enjoy guys! ALSO: gif is not mine and I can't find the person who created it (I got this from Pinterest so I'm sorry!)

"Jack, I hope you've got enough money to cover the sushi appetizer I just ordered."

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

Y/N was early, per usual. But that didn't stave off the disappointment I felt when I took in her outfit.

Something cute and comfortable.

I know I said that. It was the last thing I said on the phone before I hung up. I expected something a little nicer than what she was currently donning.  

"Y/N, what the fuck are you wearing?"

My best friend tilted her head in confusion, obviously seeing nothing wrong with her outfit. And why would she? This was her usual look. A pair of black running tights with a white Nike check along the left leg, paired with a pastel pink shirt that I never saw her wear before and a pair of black Nike running shoes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked calmly, eyebrows furrowed.

I was just speechless.

"Why am I looking at...?" I trailed off incredulously before I motioned to her outfit. "You're wearing workout clothes. Do you remember what I said before I hung up?"

"You said for me to wear something comfortable."

"And cute!"

"Which is why I wore the pink top!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that supposed to make your outfit cute?"

Immediately she shot me a nasty look and threw up a middle finger to show me just how unamused she was with my reaction. But I ignored it, annoyed with her as well.

Hands on my hips, I shook my head, "I said cute and comfortable."

Y/N only shrugged, "I don't know, I thought this was cute."

"No, that's not cute and I even doubt it's comfort level if it already makes me feel uncomfortable—and we're not even in public yet."  

She rolled her eyes at me, but I ignored that too as I checked my watch. Five minutes before everyone would meet in this exact location so we could head out. That didn't leave me enough time to drag her back to her room and look for another outfit. If I knew some of the people coming out tonight, they were prompt every time we met up, so it would be no good leaving now.

A long and exasperated sigh filtered out my lungs and I looked over her outfit warily again. "You'll be lucky if they let you in dressed like that," I chided.

"It's not like I'm wearing a bikini without a cover-up."

"That would've been closer to cute than this."

She made a frustrated noise at me before pulling her phone out of her wallet to check the time. The longer I stared at her outfit, the more I felt conflicted. Yes, these running tights framed her thighs perfectly and accentuated the curve of her legs and calves. She looked good in them.  

Even though I found this outfit cute on my best friend—in the most endearing way possible—I knew my friends would disagree. No matter how good it made her body look, workout clothes were not the clothes you turned up in for a night out. It seemed everyone but Y/N knew this.

"Has anyone told you you're exhausting?" I joked.

"About as often as you're told."

Before we could argue any further, I saw a tall and lanky figure in the distance. And so it began. A night out with friends. At the sight of him, I could already feel my stomach tighten uncomfortably. My nerves were shaky since I hung up with Y/N earlier. While the logical side of my brain said this was too early for me to try and lump her back into my social group, my heart stubbornly disagreed. Y/N seemed eager to put the event behind her and this is how I was going to help her.

Like I told her on the phone, this is her chance to start over again.  

Besides, time was running a little thinner than it was before and if I wanted this fake relationship to catch some steam, we needed this. Just as I said before, this was the test run. If it didn't work tonight, I was doomed to live like a monk and abstain from nearly all female contact until I could prove to my parents that I wasn't wasting all my training in Korea on girls.

"Jackson!"

I blinked a couple of times and watched as Namjoon jogged toward me, smile permanently fixed on his face as he came to a halt just in front of me. Holding his hand out, I went in for our bro-handshake and smiled when he nudged me with his elbow.

"Thanks for the invite tonight," he said. "I don't get much chance to be out after dark these days."

"They work you guys too hard."

"That's what I tell them before they make me run across campus to grab inventory from the shed."

I laughed, shaking my head. I knew Y/N was probably hanging out behind me, waiting for me to introduce her, but something happened when I turned around. She was gone. Confused and slightly worried I looked around to see if she ran off or if she was just hiding out somewhere else.  

Nothing.

"Hey, weren't you the one that gave me that Ryan the bear band-aid when I got my flu shot last year?"

At the sound of Y/N's voice I jumped, whipping around to see her standing in front of Namjoon, grinning. And he was grinning back at her.

"Yep, all because you threatened to cry if I didn't."

She laughed and shrugged, "It worked though, so..."

Did she actually know Namjoon? This was really weird. Watching fervently as the two continued talking, mainly about how warm the weather was and how clear the sky looked, Namjoon likely rattling off some major nerd stuff about the Moon, I tried to regain my composure enough to properly introduce them.

Did they really need me though?

That's when something snapped and I coughed loudly, stepping slightly in front of Y/N.

"Joonie, this is my guest tonight. Y/N, she's a fencer like me," I introduced, not bothering to step aside afterward.

No, instead I stood there, blocking half of her from view and looking at Namjoon like I hardly knew him. How could I trust that the two of them weren't hiding other little secrets from me? Did they secretly hang out and not invite me? And why was I blocking Y/N from Namjoon?

Elbowing me hard in my bicep, Y/N pushed me to the side so she could stand beside me. "He knows. I see him from time to time when I go to my nutrition coaching sessions. He also gives a mean flu shot."

"These hands are literal magic at this point," he replied, dimples on full display.

"Hey guys!"

Thankfully, more people showed up. My roommate Woobin, a sabre fencer as well, and his girlfriend Minji an epee fencer.

As soon as Y/N turned around I could tell she was relieved about knowing everyone she would hang out with tonight—at least at the moment. When I looked at her face, my thought was confirmed. Y/N immediately waved and smiled brightly, tapping Namjoon on the bicep.

I was acutely aware of how close they were standing to one another, and I wasn't sure why.

"Minji is a fencer like me," she explained excitedly. "Total badass."

Minji, far taller than any of us were willing to give her credit for with a pixie haircut that fit her face perfectly, shook her head as she and Woobin came to a halt in front of Namjoon and Y/N.

Minutes passed as I kept checking my phone, trying to keep track of how far everyone was from meeting with the main group. We were waiting for two people: JB and Mark. Now, I knew I was making a gamble allowing Mark to come along. Considering how infatuated Y/N is with the guy, it was probably best to leave him out, but it would've been rude in the circumstance. I initially invited Jinyoung over the phone who weakly muttered out how hungover he was and he'd be lucky if he could keep food down by the end of the night. When he rejected it, he mentioned it to someone else in the room, asking if that person wanted to go instead. By the time Jinyoung addressed me, he told me Mark wanted to go.

How was I supposed to say no?

JB was another gamble. We weren't even 24 hours removed from the antics of last night and surely all of those events were fresh in our minds. I knew there was a possibility that Y/N would react negatively to seeing JB, but I knew she wouldn't be upset enough to make a scene in front of the group. I could handle her in private if need be. Besides, out of all my friends, JB was probably the sanest and the one Y/N would identify with the most. They both liked their private time, they trained with intensity and they cared way too much about their friends.

As everyone became more and more anxious, ready to start the night, I got a text message from JB.

Hey, we were stuck in traffic in town so we're already downtown. Text me the location for dinner tonight and we'll meet you there.

Typing out a fast response, I looked up and called out to the four friends in front of me. "Let's go ahead and head out, the rest of the group will meet us there."

Y/N raised her hand, a sarcastic gesture in my direction. She wasn't used to seeing me in a leadership role.

An over exaggerated sigh filled the sizeable gap between us. "Yes?"

"And where is 'there?'"

"A restaurant."

"Which restaurant? You know I can't eat just anywhere because of the high-sodium content--"

I quickly walked to close the gap between me and my best friend, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Y/N, would it kill you to live a little?"

"I've been eating low amounts of sodium. If I overdo it, I could get sick--"

My index finger found her lips, applying moderate pressure to silence her.

"Shut up, it's a surprise. I even took your whacky nutritional needs into account. Just enjoy the ride," I said before taking my finger away and making a gesture toward the front gate of the facility. "Tally ho my hoes!"

Nearly ten minutes later we were still walking toward the restaurant just outside the boundary of the training facility. So far it was a typical night: a bunch of my friends and I heading to start our night with food before the fun really began.  

Everyone seemed willing to put parties aside considering two of the three main event planners in the group, Jinyoung and Bambam, were both hungover and in need of an extremely easy Saturday night. And that was fine by me. Last night was enough party for the whole weekend. Not only did I get all the flirting out of my system last night, but I was rudely reminded of how different Y/N was from everyone I hung out with.  

To be fair, this wasn't the first time she came up in conversation with my friends and it wasn't the first time the topic of Y/N held a more critical tone. Jinyoung was notorious for randomly ripping on her. But dealing with Jinyoung was easy. All I had to do was make fun of something he was wearing and the conversation was dropped instantly.  

I'm not sure why it took me so long to step in last night. Maybe I just wasn't expecting to have that conversation in the backseat of JB's car. Maybe I was hoping Y/N would've used her sharp tongue to cut Bambam down to size. It seemed whenever I forgot Y/N was a girl and held at a different standard than me or any other guys, something rudely reminded me. I would never understand fully what it's like to be Y/N, but that didn't stop me from feeling bad for her when stuff like this happened.

Just as I turned onto a main road, the center of town coming into view, the shops visible from the hill we were about to walk down, I felt someone bump me from my right. Blinking a couple of times, I looked down to see Y/N smiling at me.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her eyes scanning over my face. I knew she knew the answer.

Despite knowing she knew, I faked a smile and nudged her with my elbow. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"Well Namjoon just made a rude joke about your short legs and you didn't even look up once."

Instantaneously after she stopped speaking, Namjoon's protests could be heard from behind us.

"That was totally you Y/N!"

She gave an innocent look as she blinked up at me. "Jackson, I'm your best friend, why would I say something like that?"

"Yeah, why would you say something like that?"

"Exactly," she beamed back.

"You are so evil," Namjoon muttered under his breath.

I gave Y/N a sweet smile and a wink. "You didn't let me finish. You would say something like that because you love picking on me. It's like when I had acne problems and you played connect-the-dots with a marker."

Namjoon's laugh was so loud that I nearly jumped out of my own skin. Y/N giggled silently before nodding.  

"Oh yeah," she said, as if she forgot. "But I only did it because you pushed me into a chair with melted chocolate on it."

"How many times do I have to say I didn't see it?"

"That's not even the point," she argued. "Everyone thought I shit myself."

"But who offered you a fresh towel and even washed the stains out of your clothes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the smile was fond and genuine despite.

The rest of the way Namjoon tried to chat to us about the intricacies of doling out muscle massages to the rhythmic gymnasts who stop by the infirmary. Neither me nor Y/N moved to interrupt him, the two of us in a comfortable silence.

Slowing my footsteps, we made it to a trendy store front. Checking my phone, I sent a quick text to JB, asking if he was already inside. But as soon as the other four noticed where we were standing in front of, they began to get vocal.

"Jackson stop playing around," Woobin said easily, clapping my shoulder gruffly.

"This is a cruel joke," Minji agreed.

"What is this place?"

Everyone gawked at Y/N as she stared up at the signage. I'm sure she could tell this wasn't just any ramen restaurant by the exterior design, but I knew, unlike everyone else, how little she ventured into town when at the facility.

"This is one of the best ramen restaurants outside of Seoul," Namjoon stated, his voice thick with how impressed he was. "You could call it exclusive in a way."

"Exclusive ramen shop?"  

"Y/N," I chided. "This isn't a ramen shop, it's a ramen restaurant."

"What's the difference?"

"You pay for the restaurant word," I mused.

"Where are we eating really?" Namjoon asked, looking at me directly. I could almost feel his skepticism from here.

Just as he asked the question, JB responded about grabbing a table near the back. Giving him a large smile and walking to the door, I opened it and held it, gesturing for the group to enter. "Right here. Let's go."

No one moved and my smile quickly dropped. “Come on, get in.”

After much coaxing and almost dragging Y/N into the establishment, we let the host know we already had people waiting for us.  

I couldn't lie, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself. When I planned, it was typically street food for dinner and a mildly cheap activity. But not tonight. I actually planned a decent night out and all in a few hours. Not only did I want to make sure Y/N would have a good time while out with my social group, I wanted to make sure Jinyoung and Bam--

"Jack, I hope you've got enough money to cover the sushi appetizer I just ordered."

I immediately froze in surprise but my momentum kept me moving forward. It was enough to accidentally bump the frozen person in front of me.  

The familiar black hair, styled with a side part, the color contacts turning his usually brown eyes a pale green and his designer cologne wafting over the entire area. Fucking hell.

"Bambam, I didn't invite you and you still owe me for your meal last time. So I'm not paying for it," I quickly countered, trying to regain my calm, but the longer I stood there, the more panicked I felt.

I glanced down for a split second to see the person I bumped was Y/N. No surprise there.

"It's JB's fault that I'm here in the first place," he blamed, pointing a finger in the direction of my very guilty-looking friend.

Inwardly, the groan had the power to rattle the walls of this restaurant.  

Figures. JB's the softest fucker in the world.

"I took Bambam to the pharmacy earlier but we got caught in traffic like I told you and--"

I held my hand up to stop him. It didn't matter how or why he was here at this point. Forcing Bambam to leave right now would be considered rude and it would cause a scene, wouldn't it? Before I made my final decision, I looked at Y/N. After all, whether Bambam stayed or I made him leave depended on her level of comfort. I could tell by the look on her face she was surprised, maybe even shook would be more accurate, but her eyes weren't just focused on the gymnast.

No.

She was looking between Bambam and Mark. So she noticed him too.

Discretely, I nudged her, trying to get her to do anything, react at the very least. And that's when she shook her head and gave a shy smile to the three seated. With swift action, she followed Namjoon, Minji and Woobin to the table.

Bambam immediately rose from his seat, walking over to attempt taking the seat beside Y/N, but she took the end seat, the place right beside Namjoon. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed, seemingly upset over the missed opportunity, but he settled into the seat in between Namjoon and me.

Most of the meal was smooth. Namjoon and Y/N seemed to be comfortable enough to talk through most of it, Mark joining in at one point. Y/N was at her quietest during that time. Bambam went between asking Minji about her handbag and where she shopped for jeans and awkwardly trying to start a conversation with me. It was obvious he wanted to ask something, but it seemed he didn't know how.

When he tried to ask how my Yakisoba bowl was for what felt like the thousandth time, I cut my eyes to him.

"What's up?" I asked easily. I had to maintain my image as the lax guy.

"What do you mean?"

"You just seem kind of off today," I reasoned, setting my chopsticks down as I turned to him slightly.

Bambam gave an uneasy laugh as he folded his hands in his lap. "Oh, it's probably due to my hangover. I'm still feeling last night you know?"

"You had a lot to drink last night."

"Jinyoung should've never brought the whiskey like I asked."

Silence settled between us and just as I was about to ask him a question about his behavior, Bambam completely turned his body so he was facing Namjoon. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I watched as Namjoon turned to look at Bambam.

"Hey, do you mind if I switch spots with you?" he asked Namjoon.

Thankfully everyone was still in their own conversations on the other side of the table. Namjoon was definitely confused by the request and out of the corner of my peripheral vision I could see the nerves completely take over Y/N's face. She knew what was coming and I'm sure she was fighting the urge to run out of the restaurant at this point.

Unfortunately for Y/N, Namjoon was a nice guy and worse than that, he was agreeable. So of course he switched spots with Bambam so he could sit right beside Y/N. This broke off the two side-conversations happening on the other side of the table.

Now, don't get me wrong, Bambam is a decent guy. Funny, determined, way more dedicated to his craft than people gave him credit for and loyal. These were all things that made us friends in the first place. I'm sure, at this point in Bambam's conscience, he was looking for a way to forgive himself for his behavior, but he couldn't do that. Not without Y/N forgiving him first.  

I could tear my eyes away as Bambam smiled at Y/N, waving shyly. "I'm Bambam, we met unofficially last night."

The groan was thick and stuck in the back of my throat as I continued watching. Y/N gave an unsure nod, hoping Bambam wouldn't make a fool of her again.

"Listen...last night was just wild, right?" He asked.

Everyone's attention was on Bambam the second he and Namjoon stood up to switch seats, but now everyone was leaning forward, trying to follow what was happening.

Y/N gave another weak nod.

His long, tanned fingers played with the dangling earring as Bambam gave a nervous laugh. "I should've never said what I did last night. Being drunk isn't an acceptable excuse. I was a real dickhead and I apologize for shaming you like that in the car."

A thick layer of tension laid hung over the table. Everyone was deathly quiet as if making a noise would somehow cause it to drop and maim everyone seated. I was deathly silent as I watched my best friend, hoping she was okay.

Embarrassment was clearly written across her face as she tried to keep her eyes off of Bambam. The way she bit her bottom lip, how she shifted in her seat, the way she avoided everyone's gaze at the table. She was embarrassed and feeling anxious. As her cheeks reddened, I could see it was a level of nerves she wasn't accustomed to.  

Most of that embarrassment wasn't stemming from discussing last night's events in such a public setting. No. Surely in other circumstances, Y/N wouldn't have been half as embarrassed as she was now. As my eyes drifted over to the other side of the table, directly across from her was Mark. Mark was looking on intently, obviously listening to the entire conversation like everyone else at the table. And that's when it hit me.

She didn't want Mark to overhear what Bambam was apologizing for.

Everyone watched Y/N, probably assuming she would lash out physically or maybe even verbally attack Bambam, but she simply sighed, looking down before glancing briefly at him.

Just as I began to open mouth, hoping to shift everyone's attention, JB cleared his throat to catch Y/N's attention.

"I want to apologize too," he said somberly. "It's my car and I should've had better control over that situation."

"And to your credit," Bambam added, "you looked incredible last night."

My eyes lingered on Mark a moment, his eyes still lingering on Y/N. Why was he staring at her like that? Why did I suddenly feel the need to puff up and let Mark know I had everything under control?

"It's fine," Y/N mumbled out in response, breathing out a humorless laugh and displaying a smile that didn't quite reach the eyes. "I'm over it."

"Really?" Bambam asked, the disbelief very obvious in his tone.

She shrugged, looking directly at him, "Water under the bridge at this point."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Short replies weren't always a good sign with Y/N.

"Seriously, you can hate me if that helps. I'll even let you hit me—just don't go anywhere near the face," Bambam said, gesturing to his entire face with his palm. He gave an uneasy laugh, obviously not sure how to proceed. It seemed he was waiting for hellfire to consume him when he did this and Y/N's response was throwing him off.

It was throwing him off a lot.

Tight-lipped and showing enough embarrassment for a lifetime, Y/N gave Bambam another smile that failed to reach her eyes as she shrugged.

"Honestly, it's fine. You were drunk right?"

"Yeah, but that's no excu--"

"It isn't, but it's not worth holding it against you."

An awkward silence settled into the table between each of us and I was desparate to get my friend out of the spotlight. I didn't invite her here so my friends could gawk at her. I also didn't invite her here so my guilty friends could apologize—hell, Bambam wasn't even supposed to be here.

Before the silence could ruin the entire mood of the night, I stood up and clapped my hands obnoxiously. The sound caught the entire table's attention as well as a few patron seated nearby.

"Let's get going to the next spot!”

“You mean you planned for more than just paying for dinner?” Namjoon joked, overly pleased with himself when it earned a laugh from the table.

I gave him a sarcastic snort.  

"Namjoon, I regret ever laughing at your joke that one time."

Despite the playful insult, Namjoon giggled like a madman before I rolled my eyes and settled my attention back on the table.

"Get your stuff and let's bounce."

"Where are we going though?" JB asked as he slowly rose from his seat.

I couldn't hide the smirk as I turned my eyeline to my extra broody friend. "Don't worry. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Namjoon gasped obnoxiously beside me. "You paid for us to get a ride there?"

The side eye was real as I looked at my lanky friend. "And they trust you with medical supplies."

Masterlist

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

→ Jungkook Teaser      The Lullaby. The Innocence. The Deceiver. 

He is the music that lures you in, holds you close and doesn’t let go until he decides he wants to. 

The voices you hear at night? It’s him, a lullaby that calls out with soft hushed tones, promising you a world of beauty and love.  

Where one is fire, he is the smoke that rises when the flame has been extinguished, engulfing you completely and taking all your air as he wraps around your limbs. Your lungs. Your heart. 

He kills with no remorse, a swan song before the darkness finds you and claims you as its own. Hand in hand they take you deep into the ground and try as you might, clawing at the dirt to free yourself, you will not escape. 

Your soul will always belong to him and to his music.

So be careful child, for he is handsome. Clever. Charming. 

He feeds you lies, the words as sweet as honey, and his embrace is strong. You see him as innocent, simply a boy with eyes that can see everything you wish to stay hidden. With promises like gold, precious and beautiful, you obey his every command. 

You love him but you don’t know him. What he really is. The shadows that cling to his very being.  The wickedness that fills him.

So be careful child, for he is not what you think. His music is not sweet, his lullaby vicious. 

His hold on you will be fierce.  And when he lets go, your voice will die with him. 

→ Mini Masterlist → Moodboard credit goes to my honey @yeol-stole-my-soul

[theycallme-tunathot]

What the Fates Will Allow  ||   [Part 1.]

Hoseok, son of Hermes

Synopsis: Hoseok is called into the director’s office after writing an article about two of the compound’s recruits going missing. Author’s Note: So here’s the first part. I’m so excited to finally start writing this and posting it. It’s taken me months to construct and put together so I hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think! Gif credit is here.

"Don’t play dumb, it looks all too convincing on you.”

"This needs some explaining."

A small zine landed with an anticlimactic thud in front of the younger man seated in the director's office.

It was strange, he thought. He worked on this weekly zine for the last year he was here at the compound but somehow now everyone was buzzing about the damn thing. But to be fair, the topics he usually wrote about was hardly juicy compared to what he just published in this week's edition.

Blinking innocently, he stared clueless back at the director.

"I'm not sure what you mean..." He trailed off, shaking his head for added effect.

Scoffing humorlessly, the director sighed deeply. "Don't play dumb, it looks all too convincing on you."

He rolled his eyes, equally as unamused as the man in front of him.

"Hoseok, I'm trying to understand how this story ended up splashed on the front page of the zine."

"It came to my attention," he answered with ease.

"Obviously."

"Then what more do we have to talk about?"

"We have plenty to discuss."

Hoseok tilted his head, his orange hair ruffling with the movement. He peered back at the superior, almost certain he had the line to get him off the hook this time. "Considering I have proof this story is true, I'm sure you have more important things to spend your time on."

The director's mouth only tightened as he shifted in his large chair. "This is a pretty serious incident too."

"Me printing a story about how two members of the Hades block just disappeared into thin air is equally as serious a topic as having two recruits go missing for two weeks?"

"You're overstepping your boundaries Hoseok."

It was so easy to forget how sharp the power structure was divided up when this place was supposed to feel like home, Hoseok thought dryly.

If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t hate it here--not completely at least. He understood that he, much like everyone who worked at the compound, didn’t have much choice in being here. It’s not like Hoseok had a buffet of options and this just seemed like the least risky. He, like the others, burned every bridge he ever built and this was the last place he had available to him.

The compound was much like a safe haven for demigods, a place where grown children of the Greek mythological deities could go. If the outside world became too unsafe or left them incomplete, the compound served as a place for descendants like Hoseok to retreat.

But, it came with caveats. This wasn’t some rehab or retreat spa. No one on this compound came to stay without working for their place. Everyone had a job, most went on missions related to helping keep the world of mythological gods a secret and everyone did their part to keep the compound running.

In many ways, Director Gong was a nanny for his bosses. He recruited from a list made directly by concerned parents. As soon as they saw one of their earthly children suffering, they gave him a name and location. If the demigod accepted, they were brought here and it was Director Gong’s job to ensure they were safe.

And a this particular moment, it seemed the director wasn’t living up to the standards given to him, Hoseok thought.

The younger man scoffed at the elder, shaking his head. Director Gong never really could see the big picture. It was always funny how he handled what he coined "incidents." Even calling them incidents was funny to Hoseok. He was running a glorified daycare and two of his charges were missing. And then he has the gall to call it an incident. Fucking unbelievable, this guy.

"I'm doing what you've allowed me to do, which is run this inter-corporate zine where I keep everyone updated on news--"

"You mean gossip," Director Gong cut in, his dark eyes narrowing combatively.

Hoseok shifted in his chair, upset he was interrupted, but even more upset about his work being dubbed gossip. Jaw tensing, he decided not to speak his mind. At least not with such an obvious provocation on the director's part. He would need to push another button if he wanted to piss him off.

"You know very well this is idle chatter, baseless and with no evidence to prove or substantiate a single claim."

"Do I?"  

"What did I tell you about feigning dumb?"

"You said it suited me," Hoseok replied, a sarcastic smile stretching his lips slightly.

"Either way, I need you to collect all the copies around the compound and destroy them."

There was a moment where Hoseok was sure his entire mood was slipping into some bottomless pit. He could feel his chest tighten uncomfortably and his stomach give a sickening lurch against his spine at the mention of destroying the zine. How could he ask such a thing?  

Hoseok dedicated so much time and effort creating these weekly editions. He couldn't count the amount of nights he barely got through dinner because he promised a source an interview. He couldn't express the amount of agony that went into every single word printed on those six pages; the hours he spent obsessing over the right verbiage or proper wording so no one misunderstood the intended messages or news. No one would ever truly know how much of himself was imprinted on those pages, how much of his soul was passed around the compound when people picked up their zine on the way to their schedules for the day.

To ask Hoseok to throw away his entire week's work was much like asking him to destroy a piece of himself.

The demigod glared back at the man, "Destroy them?"

"We can't have any trace of this story left hanging around the workplace."

"This is — this is absolutely idiotic, even for you Director Gong."

The man seated across from him stared pointedly, but Hoseok noticed just how peeved he was. His jaw was tight and it seemed his lips were getting thinner by the second.

"I contacted you for comment on this story last week, don't you remember?" Hoseok asked, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned forward, an eyebrow arched. "I contacted you several times."

"And when did I ever give you comment?"

"You didn't, which is why at the very end of my story I have, 'did not respond to phone calls for comment.'"

"My problem isn't about the lack of official administrative comment in the story Hoseok, my problem is the story should've never been published in the first place."

Everyone said Director Gong Yoo was "the cool" boss, but Hoseok knew differently. Behind the sleek suits, perfectly styled black hair and the placid exterior was a small man begging to be bigger than he truly was. It was the side Hoseok knew best.

Ever since he arrived at the compound, he was introduced to a different Director Gong. It didn't help that Hoseok was privy to messages Director Gong sent to the outside world, but he found it to be an advantage in many ways. It helped him get his promotion that first month and it even twisted his arm into approving his idea for The Compound Zine.

Shaking his head, Hoseok refused to budge. "You see, I don't agree."

Director Gong sighed deeply, "Of course you don't."

“Before I berate you for thinking this way, tell me why I shouldn't have published it."

"You never had my approval."

"And when has that ever stopped me?" Hoseok asked brashly. "Honestly. When Aphrodite got into that huge scandal involving like four of her kids from the compound, I printed the story and you didn't say anything."

The director seemed to hold his silence, allowing Hoseok to get to his point. He would get there eventually right?

"When Zeus publicly sent the message about not ever wanting contact with his kids, I published it and you said nothing. I even reported on who was taking massive shits in paper bags around the Athena barracks before lighting the bags on fire—yet you didn't give me permission to do that either."

"My silence isn't permission."

Hoseok rolled his eyes, his annoyance reaching an all-time high. "You do realize this story is a big deal. Sure, most of the compound didn't know about it before, but the rumors were still there. People need to know what's happening and they deserved to hear it from you, but you robbed me of the opportunity to help you do that."

"Don't be so dramatic Hoseok."

"Someone has to."

"You don't honestly think the Hades block disappearances mean those two are in danger."

"And you don't think it's suspicious?"

"Let me inform you of something: they’re descendants of Hades. If you had any real experience with the Hades kids, you'd know," Director Gong replied, standing up and turning his back to Hoseok. His dark eyes gazed out the window before continuing. "They're complete isolationists, to the bone. We go through Hades block recruits so fast here. And I'll give you two tries to guess how we go through them so fast."

"Regardless, it's your job to be sure isn't it?"

"Every Hades block recruit that 'goes missing' typically left voluntarily, without telling anyone, because they don't believe they owe anyone explanations for what they choose."

Hoseok had limited interaction with Hades block. He wasn't sure what most of the recruits did in that particular section of the compound, but he heard what others said about them. Zeus recruits had a bone to pick with them in every way. Demeter's barracks had a rough relationship with the Hades block. But, in Hoseok's unbiased opinion, most of it seemed to be a carry-over from their deity parents' emotions and feelings toward Hades himself.

Standing as well, Hoseok shrugged despite the other man not seeing it. "That all sounds like excuses for not doing your job. You might want to stop speaking so candidly—you might find parts of this conversation in the next edition."

Director Gong looked back at him, his expression neutral. "I would be careful with your threats as well. How would Hermes feel if he heard his son was giving into baseless whispers about a couple of Hades recruits running off because they'd rather be alone than be here, working toward a common goal with others?"

Hoseok took a moment, Director Gong finally hit the right button, the one that would inevitably nestle under his skin and hit a nerve. It took everything in Hoseok’s power not to slam his fist into the desk or tell this man where to stick the self-righteousness.

Taking a deep breath, the younger man gave a fake smile, "How would I know? It's not like I've ever met him. Besides, does this line get you anywhere with people like us?"

How could it? Most of the recruits here never met their deity parents. Some respected them and cared about what they thought while most just didn't care. And that was the honest truth. It wasn’t just some sappy line in a story for Hoseok. Not knowing your parents was just part of being a demigod, in his opinion.

"I'm not destroying any copy of this week's edition. Jin would kill me since his weird mug is on the front page."

"You're far more stubborn than your siblings."

"What can you do?" Hoseok replied, his face painted with a wry expression.

"Print a correction then."

"And what about my story wasn't factual?"

"You said they were kidnapped!" Director Gong shouted, jabbing his finger into the zine on the table.  

"I didn't say that, I quoted a girl who was friends with one of the Hades recruits."

"At best, this creates a false sense of danger here at the compound."

Hoseok shrugged and sighed.  

"Don't be so full of it Hoseok, remember your place. You're a mail sorter, not an investigative journalist," Director Gong stated. "They aren't missing. They ran away and that's final."

"And do you have proof to show me that's true?"

Director Gong's silence only rang in Hoseok's favor.  

"Didn't think so," he stated, winking as he stood up and headed for the door. Before he walked out of the office, he gave the director one final look. "The zine will continue normal circulation this week. If you want to comment on it at any point, you know how to contact me."

Without sparing him a second to respond, Hoseok walked briskly down the hall and out of the administrative building, trying everything in his power not to laugh maniacally. What kind of day was this? He knew when Y/N approached him with news about a missing recruit, this was possibly the biggest news tip he ever received. It was his duty to pursue it right? She begged him to help tell this story and as a dutiful son of Hermes, who was he to deny her. This was a story few heard about and, at this point, it was his job to share it.

That's what most didn't understand about this zine. This wasn't just a receptacle for every piece of gossip regurgitated around the compound. This was a place for people to send messages to a larger audience. A somewhat modern form of what his father did—just better.

He stopped short of the mail room, where he worked full time. It was the shittiest job with barely any respect earned around the compound. But the work he did with the zine? That was his pride and joy. That alone earned him the respect he had here.  

And that's when his eye caught it. The stack of zines sitting in its stand just in front of the Zeus barracks. The smile was impossible to fend off as he felt his heart swell and burst with overwhelming pride. Nothing quite compared to feeling of accomplishment he had each Wednesday when the zine was delivered to every stand around the compound.

In all his pride and the lightness he felt in his feet for standing up for this tiny little project of his, he didn’t even mind when he saw Jin walking around the corner, carrying a copy of the zine. In his other hand he had cherry tomatoes and seemed to be headed back to the communal garden. Hoseok didn’t even mentally scold him when he watched the taller demigod pass, shoving a handful of cherry tomatoes into his mouth before catching someone’s attention.

“Did you know I’m on the front page this week?”

[theycallme-tunathot]

What the Fates Will Allow [Preface]

Theme: Demigod AU (Greek mythology) Rating: R Warnings: Death, suicide mentioned, slight violence--most of these are in later chapters though, so I’ll tag accordingly :D Author’s Note: There isn’t really a pairing for this series. I just hope you enjoy it okay? Also, this is a GotBang venture. I’m super excited about it and I hope you guys are too.

2 Hades recruits go missing in 2 weeks, no action taken

--Jung Hoseok

Fellow recruits will hold a candlelight vigil in front of the Hades block of the compound for two missing Hades recruits.

Hades recruits Yoo Jaeeun and Kang Taemin, were considered missing by friends and fellow Hades recruits for the last two weeks.

Hoang Rita, Hades recruit and friend to Kang Taemin, said she’s disturbed at the lack of attention to this.

“The whole reason we’re doing the candlelight vigil is because I have yet to hear his name or Yo Jaeeun’s name in conversation around here,” she said.

Hoang said she noticed Kang Taemin’s absence almost immediately.

“We used to go to the forest at the edge of the compound everyday,” she said. “It was our way to commune, our way to clear our heads and start the day right. When he didn’t show up for two days in a row and I didn’t see him come back to the block, I knew something was wrong.”

Besides Hoang, Kang’s friend Mark Tuan said he had a conversation with Kang just before Hoang worried he went missing.

“He was in good spirits,” he said of Kang. “Nothing seemed odd or weird about our conversation. He was even talking about kicking my ass in Overwatch.”

Kang hasn’t been seen anywhere around the Hades block or around the compound in approximately two weeks. The block has tried every form of communication to get in touch with him, but failed, Hoang said.

In the middle of the search for Kang, Yoo’s missing presence was noticed.

“The longer it goes, the more worried I am,” Y/N, Thanatos recruit, said. “Jaeeun is my best friend.”

Yoo was one of the few Hades recruits that worked outside of the block’s typical area with the death registry. She instead worked in the infirmary and had friends outside the Hades block.

“I’m not sure what’s happened, but I’m sure it isn’t good,” Y/N said.

She also mentioned how Yoo was always in good spirits and how their last meeting was pleasant and hopeful.

“She was so excited,” Y/N said. “She and I were planning to hangout and go into town for coffee and everything. It’s so weird.”

Both Yoo and Kang’s supervisors confirmed that the two haven’t shown up for shifts consistently for some time.

“It’s unlike Jaeeun to just not show up to work,” supervisor Choung Insik said. “She’s too kind to not at least call and let us know she can’t make it in.”

Yoo has shown up to work under impossible circumstances before, he said. She once showed up to work while dealing with heat exhaustion and dehydration.

Hoang said she believes something bad happened to both of her block mates.

“I honestly think they were taken,” she said. “It makes no sense for those two to have just up and left on their own.”

Several Hades recruits have brought their concerns to Director Gong Yoo, but they’ve yet to hear any response.

“If it were Zeus’ recruits I’m sure he wouldn’t be dragging ass,” Hades recruit Do Byunghoon said. “It’s because these two were from our block, that’s why nobody cares.”

Despite the lack of response from administration, the Hades block planned for a candlelight vigil to spread awareness about their two members’ situations.

“We’re hoping the more people know about this, the more pressure we all can put on the director,” Hoang said. “How can he ignore us when we have the attention of the entire compound?”

The candlelight vigil will start at 10 p.m. Friday in front of Hades block. The vigil will move to different locations around the compound and end near the lake.

Several attempts were made to contact Director Gong Yoo. He did not respond to phone calls for comment.

[theycallme-tunathot]

Ex Machina [preview]

Pairing: Reader x Kim Namjoon, Reader x Mark Tuan (heavily hinted) Rating: It’s definitely R rated or just a solid M Synopsis: A coder at a medical research and software development company is selected for CEO Kim Namjoon’s personal research team. It’s a project her company hasn’t given her much information about it, but what she does know is she will help break ground in the world of Artificial Intelligence. What makes a human human? What makes a machine simply a machine? And is it ethical to blur the lines between machine and human? Author’s Note: So this is just a little taste of what I’ve got. I would like to hear feedback on this because I’ve spent months writing the first few chapters and plotting and connecting themes and what not. If you like it, let me know. If you don’t like it, let me know. I love hearing from you guys!

"Innovation drives us all towards a goal that's just tangible enough without feeling like we're mad for even attempting it."

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

“May I ask a practical question here?” I asked, my eyes roaming between the board members before looking back at the owner of the company. His icy stare peered straight at me, and I stopped for a moment.

Namjoon Kim had the power to ruin my life, fire me from my very cozy and well-paying job and write me a really bad recommendation for any future employer. If I continued forward, I needed to enlist any sliver of decorum.

When I was sure I wasn’t slowly burning to death under the pointed stare Mr. Kim was giving me, I cleared my throat. “Why would a medical research company be dabbling in artificial intelligence? I mean, don’t get me wrong, my sci-fi heart is about two seconds away from flipping this table over in celebration, but I feel like this is a question that has to be answered before I can agree.”

“What are companies, businesses put on this green earth to do?” Mr. Kim asked, slowly rising out of his chair. My eyes followed his every move, wondering if this was the question he asked people before he terminated them.

Giving a glance to other tense people around the table, I shook my head and thought hard of an adequate answer. “Making money?”

The chorus of soft laughs surrounded me as I looked on, a dumb look adorning my face. I wasn't going to pretend like I knew anything about how businesses run and why they get started or even the purpose they served to the greater good of society. I was just a programmer.  

An amused smile graced Mr. Kim's face and for a moment I'm sure he finds me insultingly hilarious.

"If you start a business to make money, I can tell you right now you'll do just fine the first quarter, perhaps even for the first fiscal year," he said, walking around the table, touching the back of the occupied chairs as he moved towards me. "Let me cut to the chase. The correct answer is innovation."

I shifted as he neared me, stopping and standing directly behind my boss, his hand lazily draped along the back of the cool steel of the seat. The pregnant pause he injected into the conversation made me hang in suspension. And then he took a couple of steps toward me, leaning his butt against the edge of the table a mere few inches away from me. I was just hoping my breathing was normal. 

"Innovation drives us all towards a goal that's just tangible enough without feeling like we're mad for even attempting it," he continued. "I want to push the limits of what we're capable of here at Quantum. This led to advancement in cancer treatment--wait, I'm being too modest when I call it a treatment aren't I? Let's call it what it is: a cure. Unofficial for the moment until the numerous health agencies in several countries can wrap their tiny brains around what we're doing here. This hunger for innovation led to medical serums that have saved millions of lives in developing countries with contaminated and undrinkable water, solved an epidemic that could’ve easily evolved into a pandemic had the cure not been developed in time. Innovation helped our company see new summits, Ms. Y/N."

By the time he paused, Mr. Kim was staring back at me with an uncomfortable scrutiny. I almost regretted asking the question.

"Artificial intelligence is our next innovation,” he said with a firmness that made me further shrink away. “We could relieve the weary nurse in the middle of her 15-hour shift with an AI that can be both effective and empathetic. A true artificial yet sentient being."

There was a stark silence that followed the resonation of this last word. 

Being.

It hung in the air for a rather long moment, bouncing off of the meeting room’s glass windows and filling everyone with a sense of grandeur. Mr. Kim held in-person meetings for this very reason: he had some groundbreaking idea he wanted the board to vote on. And now, he was offering me a chance to take part in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To help create an artificially intelligent being. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t goosebumps raising off of every inch of my arms and neck.

“You see, my own mom having been a nurse, I understand human error from long work hours is an inevitable part of this job. It makes hiring and trusting that your nurse isn’t misreading your chart or grabbing the wrong medicine for injection somewhat difficult,” he continued.

“But that’s why they train and go to school, is it not?” I asked, shifting in my seat yet again, hoping I wasn’t overstepping or speaking out of my place.

With a nod, he gave me a look, “Of course. But we’re only human.”

“So you think you can help solve human error in medicine with a robot.”

“For someone as educated and in touch with technology, I thought we could’ve avoided such rudimentary and abecedarian terms like ‘robot.’”

“Robots are programmable. They follow commands written into their code, their programming.”

“If we were just talking about code or programming, I wouldn’t have asked for a meeting all the way in London,” he said, obviously now losing patience with me.  “This is not about a piece of technology that can do whatever you tell it--”

“You want something that can think for itself.”

“Exactly,” he said, almost breathless. He was obviously happy I’d finally grasped the point. And it wasn’t that I didn’t understand before, it was more along the lines of clarification. I needed to understand his purpose for bringing a programmer into this conversation.

“I want something that can’t just think for itself, but something that can make appropriate judgment calls when asked,” he mused, now sitting at the edge of the table right in front of me. This close proximity forced me to look up, his face baring down at me. With my breath frozen somewhere in my lungs I stared wordlessly.  “Something intelligent. I want something that can comfort when needed, be a sense of hope if asked. Now, what say you to helping us make history?”

“What would I be doing?”

Mr. Kim immediately shook his head, pursing his lips together.  “I cannot divulge any information about that until you agree.”

Biting my lip, I looked around the room at all the expectant faces. Elijah looked like he was vaguely interested in my answer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when he saw that I was looking at him. Immediately after that he put his head down as if not wanting to give away his own thoughts. The man that sat beside Mr. Kim, the one who took out documents at certain times during the first board meeting and the one who sat in silence through this closed session--Yugyeom right?--he looked on with unrestrained curiosity. His long legs crossed as he sat away from the table, his head was tilted as he looked at me.

I quickly looked away, trying to focus on what my answer would be.

After balancing my own thoughts on the subject, I couldn’t help but think of what would happen to my job if I said yes. He didn’t mention how long I would be gone and what would happen with my workload during that period of time. There were so many questions I needed answers to before giving an answer that I deemed adequate.  

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Kim coaxed.

When was I ever going to get a chance like this though? To help develop the first ever AI? No one’s even considering touching such advanced mechanics and engineering right now, considering the main competitors to Quantum are in a financial bind. Meanwhile, Quantum was experiencing both exponential profits and their stock profile only grew with each new medical breakthrough developed by Mr. Kim and a very close group of people.

The answer was never. Never would I ever get an opportunity to do something even partially as important and cool as this. It was now or never.

I looked up, my eyes locking in on the cold brown eyes that stared back, placid and waiting for an answer. From his stoic expression, I considered for a moment that Mr. Kim must’ve been a man that didn’t hear the word no all that often. Rejection was hardly a norm in his day-to-day life and certainly not in his business life.

So it only seemed natural to say the three words that so easily formed in the back of my throat.

“I’ll do it.”

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 11

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: The long awaited chapter! I’m so sorry, you guys, I know that I left a lot of you waiting. This semester completely wiped out everyone I know (even people that attend other universities have been like, ‘yeah this semester was the worst’), and I’m really going to try to get stuff out during break! This chapter might not be as long as I wanted it to be, but I figured, why not give you guys something with actual substance? (It didn’t have much in the way of substance until like 10 minutes ago lmaoooo) Anyways, here it is, let me know what you think and what you think should happen next!

Also, I’m taking some one-shot requests! Send me an ask; I’d prefer if they were winter/holiday themed, just for the heck of it, but you can ask for anything! (Send me nsfw requests tbh, I’m raring to write some)

As always, a strikethrough means that the tag didn’t work

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban, @paintballkid711

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildlfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @willowtree42095, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincereleygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog, @casual-vaporwave, @xfangirl-trashx, @thefutureartteacher, @randomkpoplover97, @spaghetittiesbcimgay

Word Count: 3529

Warnings: some minor injury stuff, cuteness, some fluff, some anxiety/self-esteem things (v minor), things get a little steamy

Two weeks later, you were mostly healed, and you had been talking to Peter nearly nonstop. You had been able to meet up for coffee very briefly, and occasionally he would send you the works in progress he was creating to get some feedback. Peter also gave you written updates about your commission, but he hadn’t sent you any drafts.

You were getting ready to go to bed on a Wednesday when someone knocked on the window of your fire escape. Quickly grabbing your steel baseball bat, you hesitantly walked from your bedroom to your living room. Your other hand was holding your phone, poised to call the police. But your fear was unnecessary.

Spider-Man was waiting next to your window, his eyes widening as he saw you approach. You could tell that he was grinning at you, and you made sure to obviously roll your eyes at the superhero. Instead of unlocking the window, you stood next to it and feigned thinking about letting him in.

Spider-Man tapped again, and you could tell, just on instinct, that he was pouting at you. So, you gave in, unlocking the window and opening it for him.

“Thanks,” he said with the weird voice changer. “Thought I’d freeze out there.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed playfully, “it’s not that bad. I’m sure you generate a lot of body heat anyway, especially with that suit.”

“Maybe,” he chirped. “You tell me.”

Then, he was wrapping you in his arms in a hug, and your brain briefly short circuited. After a moment of thought, you hugged him back, trying to calm your pounding heart, and trying to register if he did run hot.

He did run hot, and as you didn’t want to move away, you cursed yourself for being touch starved all the damn time.

 “You do,” you said into his chest, your voice muffled.

“That’s what I thought. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t cold,” he stated happily, not moving to let you go. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, and the longer he was wrapped around you, the more he seemed to relax.

“You alright, Spider-Man?” you found yourself asking.

“Yeah,” he sighed slightly, shifting a bit. “Just tired, you know? There isn’t too much crime going on lately, but that makes it feel like the other shoe is about to drop, ya feel?”

You huffed a chuckle into his chest and tilted your head up to look at him. “I understand what you mean.”

“What about you? How are things going with that guy you told me about?”

You sighed into his chest lightly before saying, “He’s one of my best friends.”

“But?”

“I don’t know, Spider-Man, that’s all I’ve got. I really like him, he’s a wonderful friend and a wonderful person. I doubt he’d be romantically interested in someone like me.”

“Not this again,” Spider-Man groaned slightly. “You’re wonderful, Y/N.”

"I know that,” you told him. “But I think he’d be more interested in someone else.”

“You don’t know that.”

You shrugged again, finally pushing away from him. “Like I said before, people aren’t really interested in me.”

“You don’t know that, either.”

“You don’t know that people are romantically interested in me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. “Other than the statistical probability, how do you know? Huh, Spider-Man?”

“I’m interested in you,” he said quietly, almost sheepishly.

You blinked in surprise before letting out a laugh that you hoped would mask your pounding heart. “Thanks, Spider-Man. That actually does make me feel a bit better. Do you want some water or something?”

As you turned to go into the kitchen, Spider-Man grabbed your hand and essentially twirled you into his chest. You looked up at him in surprise as he tilted his head down to press your foreheads together.

“I mean it,” he admitted softly.

Your heart pounded in your veins as you placed your hands on his chest. He was so familiar somehow, so comforting. You were unsure of how to react and your skin felt like it was on fire, so you did the most logical thing. Tilting your head to the side a bit, you pressed a kiss to his masked cheek.

Spider-Man’s eyes, which had closed during the forehead press, opened quickly, going almost comically wide. He saw you pointedly avoiding his white gaze, your lip between your teeth nervously. After a few more moments of silence, you broke away from him and cleared your throat.

“I, um, sorry,” you stuttered slightly, walking into the kitchen. You grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down, sighing in relief as it cooled your throat.

As you turned around, you saw Spider-Man right behind you. His mask was pulled up over his nose, and you could see his lips. He stepped closer to you and your body was frozen. Your heart, however, was setting your skin on fire.

Spider-Man pressed his lips against yours softly. When you responded in kind, he was suddenly kissing you hungrily, as if he’d wanted to for as long as he’d been alive. He wrapped strong arms around your waist and squeezed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Kissing the superhero felt so… right.

After a few more moments of passion, Spider-Man pulled away from you. What you could see of his face was flushed adorably, in an achingly familiar way. He yanked his mask back down and you could hear the difference in his breathing because of the voice altering device he had in his mask.

It did hurt a little bit, in the corner of your heart, that he still wouldn’t use his real voice with you when you had just been making out, but you pushed it away. Swallowing dryly, you felt like the world was just a little sharper.

“I, um, I’m so sorry,” he stuttered. “There’s a… big thing going on right now, a robbery. I have to go, I’m so sorry, I promise I don’t kiss and run.”

Words were escaping you, so you simply nodded. He beamed at you through the mask before pressing a kiss to your forehead and hurrying to the window. After wrenching it open, he was gone into the night.

You stared after him for a few moments before you slowly made your way to the window. The cool air wafted over your burning skin; you savored the moment of relief as you filed the event away in your mind.

Shutting the window, you went to a cold, empty bed. Alone.

 The next few days were uneventful. You went to work, ate food. You texted Peter, even talked for a few hours on the phone for no reason, but that was it. Nothing major happened, and Spider-Man didn’t visit you.

 On Saturday night, you were curled up on your fire escape and reading a book in the light of your reading lamp. You were aware that it was getting late, but you were too engrossed in your book to really care. Not only that, but you were incredibly comfortable under your fuzzy blanket.

A body landed on your fire escape and you let out a yelp of surprise, scrambling to your feet and holding your hand over your chest. The body was still in the shadows, but you raised your large book in your hands to throw, just in case.

A weak chuckle made its way to your ears on the wind. “It’s me,” Spider-Man said.

“Jesus Christ, Spidey!” you swore, taking the two steps needed to be closer to him.

He chuckled again, the voice changer off and making him sound too familiar. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m getting blood on your fire escape.”

“Peter?” you breathed out, helping the man to his feet. “Jesus fuck, Peter, what happened?” you slowly helped him through the window to your apartment.

“I’m surprised you’re not yelling at me for stupidity,” he told you after a wince.

“You’re bleeding,” you explained as you let him drop into a wooden chair. “I’ll yell at you when you’re not bleeding everywhere.”

He huffed out a laugh. “That makes sense.”

You shook your head and hurried to get your first aid kit, mentally pausing for a moment to thank yourself for learning how to do stitches and taking a decent amount of first aid classes.

When you got back to him, Peter had taken off his mask and his suit was loose around him. You could see the bruises and cuts covering his neck, chest, and arms. There was a bad bruise on his jawline. The pain was obvious, written all over his chest, and it hurt your heart.

You sighed as you pulled the suit down more, uncovering more bruised and cut skin. With a steady hand, even while you were completely aware that he was watching you, you cleaned the cuts. There were only a handful of them that you thought would need stitches, so for the moment you bandaged them to stop some of the bleeding.

“What happened?” you asked Peter quietly while bandaging the other cuts.

Peter hissed as you tenderly pressed on a bruise. “Had a nasty fight with Doc Ock. Thankfully, no bullets with that guy.”

You huffed slightly as you wiped some blood from his chest. “If you came to me out of the blue with a bullet and showed me your secret identity, I’d be fucking upset, I do admit. Next time,” you gave him a small smile, “if you do come with a bullet, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thanks,” Peter smiled weakly at you.

Giving him some warning, you quickly sterilized your needle and got ready for the stitches. Peter watched you through his eyelashes, barely flinching as you passed the needle through his skin. You tried to block it out, you truly did, but his gaze was so intense that you nearly messed up a stitch.

“Do I make you nervous?” Peter murmured as you finished with one set.

“Do you want an honest answer, or do you want a lie?” you asked, glancing up at him only briefly. You started to stitch up another cut on his chest.

“Honesty, always.”

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Why?”

“Do I make you nervous?” you asked instead.

“Yes.”

“Why?” you asked, finishing a stitch.

“Because you’re amazing.”

You scoffed and did another stitch. A few more, and you’d be done. You were a little surprised that you were so good at them, but perhaps because it was so methodical, you were doing better with it. Still, no matter what, you were glad you were almost done.

As you finished, wiping off the last bit of blood, Peter’s gentle hand raised your chin to look at him. He smiled at you, but his eyes were serious.

“Y/N,” he murmured, “you are amazing.”

You gave him a small, disbelieving smile, and moved back from him. “Let’s get you some ice for those bruises, and some water. Are you hungry?”

“No,” he said quietly, “not really at all. I’ll take that water, though.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and hurried to the kitchen. Preparing the ice bags, you wrapped them in some tea towels. Then, after pouring a glass of water, you carefully balanced everything in your arms and walked back out.

Peter had moved to the couch, his suit discarded, and was only in his boxers. You carefully kept your eyes from tracing down his body while you handed him all of the ice packs. He let out small hisses as he placed them on the most prominent bruises, before taking the glass and sitting back. It took him all of thirty seconds to down the glass and place it on the floor.

“Sit with me?” he asked gently.

You sat next to him, careful to put a bit of space between the two of you. Peter seemed upset at that, and instead gently tugged you over to him. Rather ungracefully, you fell into his side. Even though he winced with pain, he squeezed you closer to him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering with sleep. “You’re my favorite.”

You huffed with amusement and felt sleepiness come over you too. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. He hummed, the vibrations ringing through his chest almost like a purr, and you both quickly fell asleep.

 You woke up a few hours later, noting how early it was. Peter was awake and watching you both sleepily and intensely, if that was even possible. He gave the plush of your hip a squeeze with his large hand before rearranging the both of you.

Peter slid you over his body while shifting to lay on his back. He settled you on top of his chest, staring up at you, before wrapping his arms back around your waist. Then, he turned his head slightly and fell back asleep, even snoring lightly.

As easy as that!

You kept your scoff to yourself and decided to instead live with what was going on. After snuggling into his bare chest, you hesitantly pressed a kiss to his heated skin.

At that moment, you were glad he was asleep.

You weren’t sure what to do with these pesky feelings of yours. Truth be told, you couldn’t even be sure if Peter returned those feelings; you hoped he did, but past experiences warned you to never, ever assume.

Then again, he had kissed you…

But then again (again), he had only kissed you as Spider-Man.

And he ran. Well, he ran to fight crime, but still.

“Maybe he only kissed you to make a point,” that voice in your head whispered.

“I can feel you thinking right now,” Peter’s sleepy voice mumbled.

“Sorry,” you muttered, tucking into yourself a bit.

“What’s on your mind?” he breathed.

“I don’t want to ruin your sleep.”

“You could never ruin anything.”

“You’d be surprised,” you muttered bitterly, sighing a bit.

“C’mon, what is it? You’ll never get to sleep if you don’t tell me about it.”

You sighed and sat up, crossing your legs and hunching over slightly. “I just… don’t know how to deal with it.”

Peter slowly sat up as well, wiping the side of his face. “How to deal with what?” he asked as he stifled a yawn. After a moment of looking at you closely, he took one of your hands and scooted closer.

“Deal with my feelings,” you admitted softly as you quickly glanced at him and away.

“Which feelings?” he asked, matching your tone.

This was it. It was time to take the plunge and tell him.

“I know that we’ve only known each other for several weeks, but… I really like you. A-and if you don’t, that’s okay, really! I just… don’t know how to handle it because you’re so cute and handsome and sweet and nice and funny, and fuck, I just… I don’t know.”

Peter blinked slowly at you as you avoided your gaze. “I kissed you,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, but you were Spider-Man, there could have been all sorts of factors for that.”

He seemed shocked at that sentence, and you closed your eyes to prepare for the inevitable. You prepared for him to laugh, or to tell you it was a joke, or to leave.

Instead, Peter leaned forward, cupped your cheeks in his hands, and pressed a long kiss to your lips. It wasn’t chaste but it wasn’t deep, and it made you feel as if all was right with the world. It was the best kiss of your life.

Peter drew back and you slowly opened your eyes. His gaze was warm and comforting; one hand moved down to cup your neck, while his other thumb passed lightly over your lips. You pressed a small kiss to it, making Peter beam.

You thought he was going to say something. He didn’t.

He simply moved forward again and kissed you deeply.

Feeling as though you could be contributing more to the experience, you let your hands move, sliding them to his shoulders and then around his neck. He let out a hum of happiness as you pulled him even closer to you, and Peter took that as permission to kiss you with more fervor than the previous two.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you melted further into him. One of his hands slid down from your neck to your hip, giving you a soft squeeze exactly as he nipped your bottom lip. Letting out a small whimper, you tangled a hand in his hair.

Peter let out the most delicious growl as you did, surging forward and carefully lowering you to the couch. Your leg wound around his torso as he perched himself over you, his lips only moving from yours briefly. He ran his tongue across your lips, urging you to open your mouth, which you gladly did.

You felt like you were on fire, in the best way possible. Still, your mind was racing, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by all the emotions. The next time he nipped at your lip, you regretfully pulled away.

Adorably, Peter followed your lips slightly, making your heart skip. As you pulled back a bit more, though, he sat back slightly, his eyes overflowing with concern.

“A-are you okay, is everything okay, did I do something you didn’t like?” he blurted in a panic, starting to move back from you.

You quickly grabbed his face in your hands and pressed a small, gentle kiss to his lips. “Everything you did, I loved, okay? I enjoyed it very much. It’s just… so much right now. It’s almost like everything is firing at once, and I love it, it’s just that I think I need to breathe,” you reassured him.

Peter let out a sigh of relief and leaned a bit closer to you. “Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper as he put his forehead on yours.

You hummed and nodded, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Slowly, your heartbeat began to return to normal and the world came back from the sharp yet soft glow it had taken on after Peter kissed you.

After a handful of minutes just sitting with your foreheads pressed together, you opened your eyes again. Peter seemed calm, the serenity on his face warming your heart even more than his kisses from earlier. You moved your hand to rest lightly on his knee, only to be shocked by something vaguely cold and squishy.

Looking down, you erupted into laughter. Peter’s eyes flew open, concern etched into his eyebrows. As you leaned back with laughter, you held up the melting ice pack.

Peter blinked before he laughed, pulling one out from behind his back. That made it all the more amusing to you, and both of you were laughing for a good three minutes.

As your laughter came to an end, you felt yourself being pulled into Peter’s arms. He cradled you to his chest, nuzzling your neck with a hum.

“Peter,” you chuckled, “it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“Hm,” he pretended to consider your suggestion. “Alright, let’s go!”

As you prepared to climb out of his arms, Peter stood up easily. You, obviously, followed his body upwards. You flinched in surprised, clearly not used to being in the air. With an incredulous look, you stared at Peter’s face while he walked to the bedroom.

“Peter!” you nearly shrieked. “Put me down! I’m too heavy!”

“Not at all,” he said simply, not allowing you to budge.

“No, seriously, Peter, I’m too heavy!” He stopped walking at that point.

“You are lighter than an ice cube, don’t worry. Do I look like I’m struggling?”

Your arguments died on your lips as you realized that he didn’t even look close to breaking a sweat. As you grew quiet, Peter slowly began to walk again. As you looked up at him, at his jawline, your hand came up to cup his chin. He grinned down at you and squeezed you a bit before reaching out to open the bedroom door.

As he crossed the threshold of your bedroom, you stretched up slightly and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw.

A dark, delicious growl left Peter’s mouth as he looked down at you with a smirk. Then, he gently tossed you onto your bed, where you landed with surprise on your back. You propped yourself up on your elbows almost immediately.

You blinked up at him and he growled again, only for it to dissolve into a whine as he flopped onto his back next to you. Peter’s fluffy hair made you chuckle, and he opened an eye to look at you as you turned on your side, a hand propping your head up.

With a smile (and the echoes of those growls in your mind), you gently began to pet his fluffy brown curls. “What’s wrong?” you murmured.

Peter let out a similar whine and threw his forearm over his eyes. After a few moments, he admitted, “If you keep looking at me like that, or touching me like that… it’ll be hard to keep myself from absolutely devouring you and making you scream my name.”

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 10

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: ALRIGHT Y’ALL, HERE IT IS. Omg, I feel like it has been FOREVER since I updated this fic, and I feel so bad!! However, I know it’s because I was working on other stuff, and stuff with life has popped up. I hope you guys like this chapter, I am relatively happy with it. After this one, I’m gonna do a little time skip. It might be a bit before that, though, because I want to do some of the requests I’ve gotten!! Enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think! There’s also some conversing in sign language and I hope I wrote it in a good way! I know that when you’re actually signing a conversation, there are a lot of little filler words that get cut out because that’s obviously the nature of the language, but I wrote the signing as it was meant to be interpreted. Please give me some feedback on how I wrote it if you can, I just want to write well!!!

You can still get on any of my taglists, including my permanent one! If your username has a strikethrough, it means it isn’t working

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban, @paintballkid711

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @heregoestheworld, @willowtree42095, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincerelygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog, @casual-vaporwave, @xfangirl-trashx

Word Count: 4855

Warnings: fluff, Monopoly related anger, some nerves and anxiety, mostly just fluff I think???, some mention of pain pills, swearing lmao, minor self esteem issues but barely there, legit it’s mostly fluff

You woke up to your alarm and groggily pressed snooze. After pressing snooze twice, you sat up with muscles that protested, but nowhere near as loudly as they had that morning. The TV was asking if you were still watching, so you pressed the yes button and stood up.

Checking your phone, you padded to the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle again. There were a few messages, to your surprise.

Monica had texted you multiple times, demanding to know how you were and why you weren’t responding. You realized with a wince that you’d forgotten to tell her about the entire incident the previous day.

The other messages were from Peter, asking you about your snack preferences. They were more recent, thankfully, so you replied to those first.

As you crossed to your room and debated what clothes to wear, you called your best friend. You were unsurprised when she answered on the first ring.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she demanded immediately.

“Listen, Monica—”

“No, no, you listen!” she interrupted you. “I was scrolling through some apps last night, and I saw a news clip of Spider-Man, and there you were! You were right there! And I saw you afterward, covered in cuts and bits of glass! What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and gave a quick overview, knowing that Monica was squeamish when it involved injuries. She started squealing with excitement as you told her that Peter came to keep you company, and that he made dinner for you. When you told her that you needed her help picking an outfit for game night, Monica was immediately facetiming you.

“What are we looking at?” Monica demanded as your face appeared.

“A casual night, meeting his aunt and best friend,” you explained. “We gotta go quick, though, because I really want a shower. Like, I think it’ll make my body feel so much better.”

“Of course. What about that Spider-Man shirt you have? And some leggings, that one black pair that you totally rock.”

“But that’s a crop top,” you argued quietly. “Not much of one, but it is…”

“Do it, you rock that shirt,” Monica encouraged you. “Besides, it’s casual, you’ll fit in perfectly! And, if I remember correctly, it’s a super comfy shirt.”

“Of course, you remember correctly,” you chuckled as you pulled it out, “you bought it for me, remember?”

“I do,” she beamed at you.

“Okay, love, I’m gonna get in the shower. I’ve got it from here.”

“Alright, hot stuff,” Monica winked, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You raised a brow at her, causing her to cackle and quickly blow a kiss to you through the screen. With a quick goodbye, she hung up.

The hot water from the shower was amazing. It made everything feel just a little bit better, the muscles in your body nearly melting upon first water contact.

After one of the best showers you ever had, you dried off and inspected your bandages. You were thankful that you had plenty of bandages, because you felt a bit more comfortable with clean bandages on your cuts. There were only a few that looked like they were still a bit oozy.

You got dressed, incredibly happy that your muscles were arguing less, and put on just a little bit of mascara. Then, after making sure you had everything, you slipped your shoes on and began your walk to Peter’s apartment. He didn’t live super far away, and you realized as you checked your phone that you were thirty minutes early.

Instead of going into the building, you continued past it and into the flower shop right next door. You adored that flower shop; they always had the nicest and freshest blooms for the season. And their prices were very fair. You’d been visiting the shop since you moved to the city; at first you’d wandered upon it, but then you made some fast friends.

You waved to Sofia, the owner, and signed, “Hello, Sofia. How are you?”

“Great! Business is great,” she signed back, giving you the brightest grin. “What do you need today?” Suddenly, her eyes zoned in on the bandages on your arm and face. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Just a small incident with some broken glass. I’m fine, I promise. It doesn’t even hurt. I need something for a friend’s aunt,” you explained. “She’s like a mother to him. I’m thinking something not too big, with bright colors. Maybe some tulips and daffodils?”

“Okay, well, as long as you’re okay. Tell me, what’s she like?"

You paused for a moment, trying to think about what you could say. “I haven’t met her,” you signed, “but I’ve heard only good things.”

“What’s her kid like?” Sofia asked. “Name?”

You quickly spelt Peter’s name with your fingers and Sofia grinned. “Oh, is he nice?”

“He’s very sweet,” you informed her, “almost like candy.”

Sofia wiggled her eyebrows at you and held up a finger to pause the conversation. You waited patiently as she walked farther into her shop, obviously on a mission for the bouquet she had in mind. After she didn’t show up for another two minutes, you turned and began to admire the day-old bouquets behind you.

You turned back as Sofia approached with a simple bouquet in her hands. There were orange tulips and yellow daffodils, arranged artfully. Without asking, Sofia put them in a simple vase with a bit of water; she tied a yellow bow around it and showed it to you with pride shining in her eyes.

“It’s perfect!” you cheered, emphatically signing your admiration and appreciation. “You are so talented, Sofia!”

She waved you off playfully, a grin on her lips. “I hope they all like them.”

You paid the woman, noting that she knocked the price down for you; you shoved a twenty-dollar bill in her tip jar when her back was turned. Sofia handed you the receipt and gave you a sly smile.

“Tell me about Peter,” she urged, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s really sweet, an artist,” you explained. At her look, you cut her off. “He’s just a friend, Sofia. I’m about to go over to his game night with his roommate and aunt.”

“That sounds like fun. Is he cute, do you like him?”

Your eyes went wide at her blunt question and her laughter made it obvious that she already knew the answer. “He’s a wonderful person,” you informed her, trying not to give more away. Sofia could always see through anything, though.

“You like him,” she signed with a wicked grin. “You do!”

“He’s my friend!” you protested, rolling your eyes. “Speaking of Peter, I need to get going to game night.”

“Fine, fine, I hope you get some!” Sofia signed quickly.

Your blood rushed at her words. Instead of gracing her with a response, you stuck your tongue out at her and bid her a goodbye. Her laughter followed you out of the shop.

You bustled to the apartment building next door, holding the flowers close to your nose. They smelt divine.

The person in the lobby recognized you and gave you a wide smile. You waved at him and went straight to the elevator. It was a smooth ride up, and as you adjusted your arm, you felt a twinge of pain. Perhaps you should’ve taken some ibuprofen before you left…

You got off the elevator and walked to Peter’s door. You were ten minutes early, but that was okay. After going through a mental checklist, you nodded to yourself and finally knocked on the door. There was an urge to rock on your feet to get your nerves out, but you managed to curb that urge.

The door opened and you were met with Peter, a breathless smile on his face; as he looked at your shirt, he blushed bright red. Right behind him were two people, each peering around the man to get a look. You found yourself essentially giggling with mirth at the sight of two heads crowding in with Peter’s, nearly pushing the man over. It was downright hilarious to you, and you had to turn away from the door to try to quiet your chortling.

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed to get out, constantly interrupted by your own giggles, “I’m sorry, it’s just so funny, you’re all smushed together like that!”

Peter started chuckling with you, and after another minute, you turned back around. He was still at the door, the most adorable smile on his face, the blush still prominent (you had no idea why he was blushing, but it was super cute). The people that had been behind him were gone, but you could hear them talking in the apartment.

“Sorry,” you chuckled lightly.

“Hey, I love your laugh, so please, laugh away,” he grinned at you.

Your blood seemed to sing as you finally followed him in. Standing by the dining room table was a woman, one you assumed was May Parker.

“Y/N,” Peter began, “this is my Aunt May. And in the kitchen is Ned.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled a bit shyly at the woman. You held the flowers out. “I had some extra time before coming here, so I got you these flowers. I hope you like them. I-I know it might be a little weird, but I’m very fond of your nephew, and he speaks so highly of you. Besides, surprise flowers are nice,” you explained nervously.

“Thank you so much!” May beamed at you, coming forward and taking the vase from your hands. She wrapped one arm around you in a surprise hug and then kissed your cheek. When she pulled back, her smile was wider, and she sniffed the flowers. “Peter was right when he said you’re a sweet woman.”

You blood warmed slightly and you shifted on your feet. “Peter is really sweet, too.”

“I know, such a good kid,” May said adoringly. “Well, are you ready for game night?”

“Just how intense is it supposed to get?” you asked with a grin.

“Depends on how much you can handle.”

“What are we playing?”

“Thought we’d start with Monopoly.”

Your grin widened. “Oh yeah, I can definitely handle that intensity.”

“A girl after my own heart. By the way, I love your shirt, it’s super cute and on-brand for this family,” May told you as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder and steered you to the dining room table, where the game was already set up.

 “I swear to fucking god, Peter, if you put another hotel there, I will flip this table!” Ned was yelling ninety minutes later.

“What about you, buying all utilities?” Peter shot back, his eyes full of fire.

“It’s only because Y/N bought all the airports!”

“That’s how the game works!” you and May joined in simultaneously.

“You’re just jealous that I got all the red spaces!” Peter yelled to Ned.

“Because you know I love the red spaces!” Ned shouted.

“That’s why I got them! Payback, bitch!”

“Oh, so this is payback for the time I decided to play as the dog because you were running late again?”

“Yes!”

You glanced at May and erupted into laughter. Despite the semi-harsh words being said, you could see the amusement in both men’s eyes and the smiles on their faces. It was, all in all, incredibly amusing. The energy of the room was electric and warm, incredibly comforting in an unusual but not unwelcome way.

Ned and Peter stopped arguing as they heard your laughter. You were leaning back in your chair, your head tilted and your hand on your chest as you tried to calm your cackling. May joined in, and soon, so did Peter and Ned.

“I think I have a solution,” you informed them as your laughter sobered.

“Let me hear it,” Ned and Peter said simultaneously.

You grinned at them before quickly flipping the board over. Everything went flying and you immediately dissolved back into laughter at everyone’s shocked faces. Their mouths remained open and you continued to laugh as you cleaned up the board and put everything back in the box. The laughter had devolved into chuckles when May began to help you put stuff away, a bright smile on her face.

“I like you, Y/N. You fit right in,” she said frankly.

You smiled sheepishly as you organized the money.

When you turned to look at Ned and Peter, they were both turned away from the table, whispering to each other and glancing over their shoulders. As you raised an eyebrow at Peter, he immediately turned red and jerked his head back.

With a shrug, you discussed what movie to watch with May. You both agreed that it was probably a good idea to put a movie on and play a different game. May was suggesting Cards Against Humanity, and you were seriously considering it. Of course, you were also weighing in the possibilities for total embarrassment with that particular game.

“Oh, what the hell, let’s do it!” you beamed, finding May’s cheer adorable.

Ned and Peter were still whispering while you helped May transfer all cups and food to the coffee table in the living room. You were setting everything up and they were still whispering as May put on Weird Science.

“Truly one of the great classics, May,” you informed her with an approving nod.

May nodded at you before giving you a pointed glance towards the boys. You gave a tiny nod of confirmation and walked over to them.

“Guys,” you stated loudly behind them, making Ned jump in surprise. “C’mon, it’s time for Cards Against Humanity and Weird Science. Wanna make some popcorn?”

“S-sure,” Peter stuttered, his ears and cheeks bright red.

“What’s got you two all worked in a bunch?” you asked gently.

“I, um, I have to run into the office really quick,” Peter admitted in a rush.

“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Um, okay? Is that what you’ve been discussing?”

“Y-yeah,” Peter admitted, his blush getting deeper.

“Are you worried about me?” you asked gently.

“I just, it would be rude—”

“Hey, Peter, it’s okay,” you interrupted him tenderly. “Emergencies happen. It’s totally cool with me. Besides, I like Ned, and I’m ready to win all of May’s love for all eternity.” You leaned forward slightly and pretended to whisper, “I’m gonna be her favorite, Peter; I’m gunning for your spot.”

Peter and Ned laughed loudly at that before Peter jogged to his room to get something he needed for the office. Ned rushed to the kitchen to make some popcorn while you went to sit on the couch with May.

“So, May, Peter has to go to the office for some sort of emergency,” you informed the woman as you plopped onto the couch next to her.

“That happens a lot,” May shrugged a shoulder. “And you can call me Aunt May, Y/N. After all this stuff tonight, I’m pretty sure you’re one of mine now.”

You laughed brightly, trying to calm the excitement that coursed through your veins. It had been awhile since you had that sort of motherly affection, and you didn’t quite know what to do about it. But you decided that you would roll with it.

“Okay, gotta go, see you in a bit, bye!” Peter’s voice flashed by you as he ran to the front door and left loudly.

“That was… weird,” you muttered under your breath. “Figured he’d actually, y’know, face us to say goodbye.”

“Oh, he gets like that when there’s an emergency,” Aunt May explained casually.

“Y-yeah, sometimes he doesn’t even go out the door, he goes down the fire escape,” Ned said almost… nervously.

As you watched the movie and casually played Cards Against Humanity, occasionally taking photos of the really good plays to show Peter when he returned, you found yourself getting really comfortable with the other two people. When the movie was over, Aunt May popped in another comedy, White Chicks.

About halfway through the movie, Aunt May decided to call it a night. She gave you a warm hug and a squeeze, telling you to wear the Spider-Man shirt more often with a wink. She gave Ned a squeeze and told either of you to give Peter a hug when he came back from the office. With another wave over her shoulder, Aunt May left.

Luckily, it wasn’t awkward with just Ned. You talked about both your jobs and your shared love of science fiction as the movie played. Ned even told you a few funny Peter stories that you soaked up with a vigor. When White Chicks was over, Ned decided to pop one more movie in while waiting for Peter (he picked Airplane).

You found yourself nodding off slightly while the movie was playing. Between the worlds of awake and asleep, you stretched out on the couch a bit more. It was an incredibly comfortable couch, obviously easy to fall asleep on.

Not even halfway through Airplane, Ned saw that you were sleeping peacefully. He figured that were still tired from the previous day, so he turned down the volume of the TV. After draping a blanket over your sleeping form, he went to bed.

 Peter entered through the living room window cautiously. He could see that the TV was still on, so he didn’t want to alert you if you were still home, but his window had been getting stuck and needed fixing.

Rolling through the window silently, Peter sprang up to see you asleep on the couch. The light from the TV, playing the menu screen for Airplane, was giving you a light blue glow. You looked absolutely fantastic, but you also looked slightly uncomfortable as you used your arm as a pillow.

He took a step to you before remembering that he was still in his suit. Quickly changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Peter lightly jogged to your sleeping form with a pillow in his hands.

“Y/N,” you heard a gentle voice prodding you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”

Groaning lightly, you managed to open your eyes and push up from your position slightly. To your slight surprise, you saw Peter kneeling next to you. The light from the TV was making him look unfairly attractive, as was that damn tight white t-shirt.

“You’re too cute,” you muttered as you relaxed your arms to lay back down. “’S not fair that you’re so damn attractive,” you continued to mutter. “’S not fair to others that aren’t pretty, people like me.” A yawn stretched your lips and you smacked your lips.

Peter’s light chuckle floated to your ears. “You want a pillow, Y/N?”

You grumbled, making him laugh.

“C’mon, let’s get you more comfortable.”

“Are you comfy?” you mumbled.

“I mean, I’m kneeling on the floor.”

“Are you a comfy person?”

“I-I, I mean, I guess.”

“I’d rather use you than a pillow,” you admitted, still mostly asleep. “It’s cause ya look so comfy and cuddly.”

Peter chuckled again as you settled into your previous position. Your slightly opened eyes saw him biting his lip in thought before he nudged you over. You complied easily, scooting back until your back touched the back of the couch. You mused over the wideness of the couch and lifted slightly so Peter could snake his arm under your head.

He settled in next to you and you nuzzled closer and into his chest. You wrapped your leg over his and let out a small hum of comfort. Peter chuckled and you felt him hesitantly trail his hand down until it rested on your waist. With another hum, you felt yourself fall back into a deep, comfortable sleep.

 You woke up slowly, feeling more rested and comfortable than you had in a long time. The night of sleep had been so nice, in fact, that you really didn’t want to continue to wake up. Still, you knew that you had to wake up eventually, so you opened your eyes.

Peter’s sleeping face was right in front of yours. His curly brown hair was falling across his forehead adorably, and the peaceful look on his face made you want to take a picture. You couldn’t do that, of course, because it wasn’t like you were his girlfriend or an actual artist like he was.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened after you fell asleep the first time. As you memorized Peter’s sleeping face, you tried to recall how you came into this predicament. Peter’s arms holding you close did not go past you.

You let out a slight sigh and tried to squash the excitement that came when Peter let out a small grumble and tightened his hold on you.

A vague whisper of a memory came into your mind as you couldn’t help but bring your hand up to brush some of Peter’s hair off his forehead.

The memory told you that you’d mumbled some things that you would not have said otherwise. Apparently, sleepy you had much more confidence and a much smaller filter than fully aware and awake you. You felt your blood rush as your boldness from your sleep-induced state came into your living memory.

As you played with Peter’s hair, you decided to not focus on the words you’d uttered. Instead, you focused on the softness of his hair and the smoothness of his skin. He was so peaceful, and your tender, hesitant touches seemed to make him relax even more.

Peter let out a sigh and pulled you ever closer. After another minute, and you tucking your arm back against your body, your gaze was met with Peter’s sleepy brown eyes.

“G’morning,” he murmured, giving you a squeeze. “You’re a really good cuddle buddy. So warm and soft and nice. Smell good too.”

You chuckled lightly before you nudged Peter slightly. “Sorry about last night,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know I’m so… bold when I’m sleepy.”

Peter chuckled sleepily and the breath tickled your skin. “It’s alright,” he sighed happily. “I liked it. And I liked cuddling with you.”

“I did too,” you admitted shyly. “Peter?”

“Hm?”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

Peter let out a dramatic groan before removing his arms and rolling over. He obviously forgot that he was on the couch, because he landed on the floor with a thud. You couldn’t stop the loud laughter that left you as his fluffy curls popped up while Peter glared at you for laughing at his plight.

You climbed over him, still laughing, and hurried to the bathroom. All the liquids you had ingested the night before had caught up with you, and you cursed your past self for causing your present self to have to leave Peter’s cuddles. Then again, you pondered as you washed your hands, you hadn’t expected to spend the night, nor to cuddle with Peter.

If you weren’t so relaxed and still sleepy, you’d probably be freaking out.

When you walked back out, you saw that Peter was sitting on a counter in the kitchen. He was typing on his phone and a pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen. As you entered the kitchen, you let out a groan of relief at the smell of the coffee.

“You should make that sound more often,” Peter informed you casually as he glanced up from his phone.

Your blood sang through your body and you decided to not comment on that. You texted Monica and told her that you planned on calling her later in the day, and a few minutes later, Peter was handing you a mug of coffee.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“No problem. Thanks for inviting me to cuddle last night,” he smirked lightheartedly at you. “That was the best sleep of my life.”

You chuckled as you made your coffee the way you liked it. “I slept very well, too. Thank you, Peter. And thank you for being so cool about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging a shoulder, you sighed as you took your first sip of coffee. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “just… I don’t know. But I still appreciate it. I don’t always sleep the best, and it really was a nice sleep. So, thanks, Peter.”

“Hey, anytime. I seriously mean that, by the way,” he gave you a pointed look.

You barked out a laugh and nodded. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good!”

Peter offered you some toast, or a bagel, but you politely declined. At his concerned look, you explained that you weren’t normally hungry right after waking up. You also told him that you needed to get home and take a pain pill to get rid of the little ache you still felt in your body. He pouted but seemed to understand.

After you finished your coffee, you went to the bathroom and your hands through your hair to make sure it didn’t look too crazy for your short walk. Sure, it was NYC, but you didn’t like to stand out. Peter laughed and told you that your hair was fine, but at your sideways teasing glare, he chuckled even more and left you to fix it up.

“Okay, Peter, I’d better get going,” you announced as you entered the living room.

Peter was adorably curled on the couch with a sketchbook in his lap. You pretended to peer around his shoulder to see what he was working on, but he held it to his chest and gave you a fake glare. He relaxed as you chuckled and stood up.

“Okay, well, thank you for having me over,” you said as you walked to the door.

“What are you thanking me now for? I’m walking you home,” Peter chuckled as he followed you to the door.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“I’m walking you,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

You didn’t argue and instead let him lead the way out of his apartment.

The walk to your apartment was brief but nice. The coolness of the morning air was refreshing, and Peter kept up a casual stream of conversation that you eagerly participated in.

Almost too soon, you reached your building and turned to Peter. He grinned at you and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said softly, changing the whole dynamic around you. You felt a bit vulnerable with the shift you caused, but you pushed on. “I had a really great time. It really took my mind off of things, and I really appreciate you inviting me into your life. I feel… honored to have met some of the people most important to you. Thank you.”

Peter’s smile was tender and made your heart dance. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m really happy you got to meet Ned and Aunt May, and that you get along so well with them. I know I had to leave, but I’m really, really glad you had such a great time. Aunt May was texting me and telling me that you’re her favorite now, so… lucky you, I guess,” he pretended to pout.

You laughed and shifted your weight a bit. “She’s a wonderful woman, and she raised a wonderful man. I know you’ll always be her actual favorite, but I’m gonna soak up that title for as long as I can.”

The atmosphere had shifted again, and you felt less vulnerable. Still, you felt good; you didn’t feel guilt at sharing your feelings the way you sometimes did.

“Well, I’d better let you get back to your Saturday,” you announced, wincing internally at the awkwardness of the announcement.

“Y-yeah,” Peter agreed, giving you a smile that perhaps had a tinge of sadness.

“I’ll, uh, see you soon? If you want?”

“Yeah, definitely!” His eagerness made your heart do a little Irish jig. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I know you’re still sore from the other day.”

“Of course. You too, Peter. I mean, any excuse to see you again, am I right?” Your face heated as you realized what you said. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay? Tell Ned I said thank you for letting him into his home, and that it was nice to meet him,” you plowed on quickly. “Anyway, thanks again, Peter. Stay safe!”

Before you realized what you were doing, you stepped forward and kissed his cheek before retreating inside. You didn’t look back as you rushed to the building door, much too focused on dealing with your river dancing heart. When you glanced at him from the door, you saw the brightest, happiest smile you had ever seen.

Your river dancing heart slowed down at the sight of his smile. Warmth filled your body and your muscles relaxed. With one more smile at him, you went inside.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you slid down the door and onto the floor. Your smile was almost hurting your face with how long it had been there.

No matter the ache in your face, you didn’t want this feeling to fade.

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 9

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, here’s the next chapter! Chapter 10 will be game night, I think, and after that there’ll be another mini-time skip! I do like where this one went. Please let me know what you think!

If you want to be on this taglist or on my permanent one, just shoot me an ask or something! If there’s a strikethrough on your URL, that means it didn’t work, but I’ll do my best to fix it if I can!

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban

CFC Taglist: @scatterbrainedgenius, @wildfirecracker, @pastlives-purplesouls, @maybemona, @hotchocolattee, @heregoestheworld, @willowtree42095, @134340-cm, @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao, @poc-gotbang, @sincereleygmg, @toastedpopsicles, @imstupidsblog

Word Count: 4014

Warnings: fluff, Peter cooking, mention of injuries, additional minor cooking-related injuries, some swearing lmao, some crying, being super duper tired, a little bit of Peter’s POV, some negative self-talk near the end

You still had your arms around Peter’s neck as he reached your floor. You expected him to put you down as soon as you reached the top.

It seemed that Peter was full of surprises.

Peter continued to carry you on the way to your door. Right before he gently put you down, he squeezed you tightly and seemed to inhale deeply through his nose. Then, thankfully, your feet touched the floor, and you felt relatively stable.

Peter followed you inside casually and you made a beeline to the fridge. Another yawn graced your face as you pulled out one of the reusable bottles of water you always put in the fridge. As you straightened and groaned at the twinge of pain, Peter appeared right behind you, making you throw the bottle in surprise.

Peter caught it easily and handed it back to you with a chuckle. “Why don’t you go get comfy and I’ll see what I can cook up?”

Too tired to argue, you said, “Luckily for you, I just went grocery shopping.”

He gave you a grin as you shuffled away. Once in your bedroom, you slowly went about changing from your dirty work clothes into a giant sweatshirt you’d gotten from a thrift store and a pair of simple black leggings. You stared at your blob-like form in the mirror, aware that you purposefully made yourself into a blob, before padding back out to the kitchen; the sounds of cooking reached your ears.

“Smells good,” you remarked as you leaned against the counter. “Are you utilizing my garlic and onions?”

“Yep!” Peter chirped as he beamed at you over his shoulder.

“What’s on the menu, chef?” you asked as you finally took a sip of water. The coolness relieved your throat and made your entire body relax ever so slightly.

“Well,” Peter shuffled slightly so you could stand next to him at the stove, “I saw that you had some steak, and some potatoes, so we’re going to have steak and potatoes.”

“What kind of potatoes?” you asked as you saw them already washed and cut, coming to a boil on the stove. Exactly how long had you been changing clothes?

“Not sure yet,” he admitted. “Not just boiled, I know that.”

You hummed slightly and grabbed a fork, poking a potato. “I’ll make some lemon pepper potatoes,” you stated as you turned up the heat.

“But I am supposed to be the one cooking,” Peter pouted at you.

“And you have done a fabulous job so far,” you smiled at him, “but let me help. I hate feeling useless. Besides,” you cut him off as he was about to say something, “my kitchen, my rules. That’s the way it is.”

“Fine,” he pretended to huff. “What do you need, sous chef?”

You chuckled and took a step back from him. “Nothing yet. The potatoes aren’t quite done enough. Would you like to hear my plan?”

“Yes please!” Peter grinned as he placed a steak in the pan with a loud sizzle. He placed the next one and added some butter and rosemary, the scent wafting through the air and comforting your soul.

“Alright, well, when they’re almost done being boiled, I’m going to toss them in some lemon pepper seasoning. I might add some other stuff too, I’m not sure yet. Then, while the steaks are resting, I’ll toss them in the pan and let them crisp up.”

Peter let out a moan as you finished describing it, and your ears burned at the sound. “That sounds amazing,” he admitted, smirking at you.

You chatted absentmindedly as he finally flipped the steaks and you were ready to drain the potatoes. As you picked it up, your wrapped arm throbbed painfully enough that the pot clattered back onto the stove. It splashed near-boiling water all over your hand and foot, making you hiss in pain and jump back.

Of course, you collided with the counter behind you.

“Son of a bitch!” you exclaimed; your breathing was almost frozen in your throat.

“Jesus!” Peter exclaimed at the same time, taking a step towards you. “Shit, Y/N, are you okay? Not a great day for you, huh?” he attempted to lighten the mood.

Your eyes began to mist with tears of frustration, pain, and exhaustion; you were much too tired to keep them in. You put your hand over your mouth as you let out a sob, your eyes squeezing shut and the tears pouring out of your eyes.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, are you hurt?” Peter asked as he stepped closer to you, rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders and arms. “It’s okay, Y/N, just talk to me. Are you hurt? Please tell me you’re not hurt.”

“I’m, not, hurt,” you basically hiccupped around your tears.

“Oh,” he breathed, halting the rubbing of his hands on your arms. As you continued to sob, unable to stop both the tears and the jumping of your lungs, Peter stepped closer to you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you into his chest.

You couldn’t stop the hand that covered your mouth from moving to grip Peter’s soft t-shirt with tight yet shaky fingers. You were just so incredibly exhausted and achy and done with the world, that your body apparently decided that crying would be the best way to deal with your current situation.

One of Peter’s hands rubbed your back as the other squeezed you tighter. After several minutes, you felt your tears come to an end and your breathing relax.

Your head suddenly snapped up and you peered over Peter’s shoulder to look at the stove. The steaks were still in the pan, but the heat was off. You relaxed in front of Peter again, your neck rolling down to rest your forehead on his chest.

Peter chuckled and pulled back from you, making you look up at him. “Go lay down on the couch, okay?”

“But—”

“No, go. I’ll finish up dinner. Go lay down, relax. You need it.”

“But—”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, “you deserve it. Besides, you’re not allowed to argue with me when you look that adorable. Now go.”

You sighed heavily and nodded. Peter smiled at your acquiescence and you almost jumped in surprise when his lips pressed a kiss to your forehead. You made sure you didn’t look at him as you shuffled away and into the living room.

You carefully lowered yourself to the couch and then into a comfortable position, or at least as comfortable as you could. You turned the TV on and lazily picked an episode of The Golden Girls before sinking into the comfort of your couch.

 Peter finished up dinner and walked into the living room to tell you it was ready, only to see you fast asleep. You were curled into yourself ever so slightly, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. Peter sat on the edge of the couch near your knees, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shifted slightly and let out a little grumble, a grimace coming to your lips.

Reaching out a hand, Peter gently ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the strands away from your face. At his touch, you relaxed, almost seeming to move closer to him, and his heart fluttered in his ribcage. The bandages on your face shot guilt through his chest, sending his fluttering heart back down to the ground.

He felt so bad about your injuries. It was an afternoon patrol day, and he was four blocks away when Karen told him about the robbery in-progress. Peter had swung over immediately, stopping on top of a building across the street to assess the situation.

As soon as he saw you being held by your hair, Peter was swinging down and to the window. You were throwing a gun at a man’s face when he went through the window, and then Peter was so focused on webbing everyone up to stop you from getting hurt that he didn’t get to the ones kicking you until you were already curled on the floor.

Peter’s heart panged again as he recalled you riddled with pieces of glass and clutching your ribs; he hated the look of fear on your face.

As you breathed in deeply, Peter was struck with pride at how brave you had been during the robbery. You obviously worked splendidly under pressure, and it made him admire you more. He hated that you’d gotten hurt, and that you were so torn up because he had been reckless and jumped without a proper plan, but he was happy that you were okay.

And, he admitted to himself, he was glad that he was there with you. Your sleeping form was so cute, and you looked so soft. He wanted nothing more than to crawl onto the couch and settle behind you, holding you close and keeping you safe. Then again, he also wanted to sketch out your gorgeous form…

Peter didn’t know why he was so drawn to you, especially considering that you hadn’t known each other very long, but he was. He didn’t want to stop being drawn to you, in all honesty, because he saw you as such a ray of light, even when you were sleeping.

Still, you had to wake up to eat.

 You were woken up gently, and you opened your eyes to see Peter leaning over you slightly with his hand on your shoulder. His smile warmed your heart and you began to sit up. Your ribs twitched with a bit of pain, causing a wince to cross your face. Peter moved back slightly and smiled again as you stretched, wincing again at the slight pain it caused.

“How long was I out?” you muttered out, rubbing at your eyes.

“Just, like, fifteen minutes, I think?” Peter replied.

“Mm,” you hummed slightly, dropping your arms. “What’s up?”

“Dinner’s ready,” Peter said cheerfully, getting up and reaching out a hand to help you up. You put your hand in his and he gently helped you to your feet. Without letting go of your hand, he led you to your dining room table.

You sat in your usual spot, Peter to your right, and tiredly regarded your plate. You let out another hum as you finally woke up more upon smelling the food.

“This looks great, Peter,” you said sincerely, picking up your utensils and beginning to eat. The first bite of steak had you letting out a moan of happiness; it was truly delicious. “Oh my god, Peter,” you moaned around your food, “this is so good.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled warmly.

You spent the dinner in relative silence, mostly just eating. The food warmed you completely, both in body and soul. While you were eating, though, you were once again aware of how sore your body was and how exhausted you felt.

“Go lay back down,” Peter urged as you finished eating. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can—”

“Remember what I said?” he interrupted gently.

“Um?”

“You’re not allowed to argue with me when you look so cute, now go get some more rest. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

You huffed out your acquiescence and shuffled back to the couch. You sat on it this time, to avoid falling asleep, and scrolled through your phone aimlessly. Your sitting position did not, however, stop your eyes from drooping, nor your mouth from yawning.

“Y/N, I’m done—” Peter cut off as he saw you dozing on the couch again. This time, though, you were only dozing, and your head snapped up to look at him.

“Sorry, Peter, for being so useless tonight,” you yawned.

Peter sat down next to you and pulled your leg into his lap. He absently massaged it through your leggings as he said, “No, you’re not useless, Y/N. You’re never useless. You’re wonderful and always exactly as you need to be, by being you.”

You nearly purred at the sensation of the massage, even as your eyes filled with tears. “Th-thanks, Peter, that means a lot,” you stuttered.

He smiled at you and then looked at the time. The feeling of him pressing into the muscles of your calf was making you even more drowsy.

“Hey, Y/N?” Peter roused you slightly.

“Yes?” you asked, opened your eyes wide to try to wake up.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked tenderly with shining brown eyes.

“You don’t have to, Peter,” you said, waking up a bit more. “I can handle the rest of the night. It’s all up to you, though.”

Peter sighed heavily through his nose, causing your eyebrows to furrow in concern. He leaned into your couch and sighed again, drawing it out into a groan and squeezing his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong?” you couldn’t help but ask. You pulled your legs underneath you and leaned forward to put a concerned hand on his shoulder.

Peter opened his eyes and you realized how close you were to him. You leaned back a little but kept your hand in place. He gave you a smile, though it wasn’t an overly happy one.

“I don’t wanna leave,” he explained slowly, “but I probably should so that I don’t neglect my duties around the house before game night.” Another sigh escaped his lips.

“Aw,” you cooed, “it’s so sweet of you to be concerned, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not concerned,” he said, then hurried to say, “well, I mean, I am concerned, but that’s not why I want to stay.” He then blushed as he said, “I just like spending time with you, Y/N, that’s why I want to stay.”

You felt your blood rushing as your body reacted to his words. In a poor attempt to hide how sheepish you were, you said, “Peter, that’s sweet, but if you gotta go, you gotta go.”

He heaved another sigh, this one obviously meant to be overly dramatic, and pushed himself to his feet. You followed suit even as he shambled to the front door. It was easy to chuckle at his dramatics, and that seemed to be his goal as he grinned at you.

“Peter?” you prompted him as he pulled on his shoes and got ready to go.

“Yes, Y/N?” His brown eyes would be so easy to get lost in…

“Well, I just wanted to say, well, thank you. You were really there for me today, and you didn’t have to, so… thank you. I really appreciate it.” You chuckled quietly before you continued, “I’ve never really had a friend quite like you, Peter. It’s a new experience for me.”

Peter was quiet for a moment as he patted his pockets to be sure he had everything. Then, he turned and beamed at you. “I’m happy to be your friend, and to be your friend the way I am. I’ll always be there for you, Y/N. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll be over before you know it, mmkay?”

You nodded. “Thank you again, Peter.”

“No need to thank me. I’ll see you tomorrow for game night?” he confirmed as he stood in the threshold of the front door.

“Yep!” you chirped happily. “Bye, Peter.”

Steeling yourself a final time, you bounced forward and kissed his cheek before he was completely out of the apartment. You could see his blush as the door shut, and after a few moments, you heard his footsteps walk away.

You locked your door and made sure everything was off before plugging in your phone and curling up on your comfortable couch. Sleep came easily that night.

 The next day, you woke up with aches pulsing all over your body. What had woken you up was a phone call from Edith.

“Y/N, I swear to all the saints and gods, if you come to work today, I’ll fire you on the spot,” Edith said in lieu of a greeting. “Well, I won’t fire you, but I will force you to do what you find to be the most boring work possible: math theory books.”

“Edith,” you chuckled, blinking the sleep from your eyes, “if you had waited another hour, I would’ve called in. My alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour.”

“Oh,” she breathed out, the fire she had built up dying quickly. “Oh. Okay then. Well, how are you feeling? Did you get home okay? Charlie filled me in, since Arthur isn’t coming in and is still asleep. Do you need to talk about it?”

You chuckled under your breath as you managed to heave yourself into a semi-upright position. It shot pain through your midsection, but it quickly left. “I’m okay. They patched me up and gave me painkillers. My friend helped me out last night. I’m mostly just sore right now, and still exhausted.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” Edith informed you. “And, well, while what you did wasn’t necessarily wise, it was smart, and I’m proud of you for being brave.”

“Thanks, Edith,” you said as emotion tightened your chest. Edith had been like a mother-figure to you ever since you got the job; hearing her say something like that was very sweet and very necessary.

“Don’t come back into work until Wednesday, okay? And no doing work from home! This is part of your paid time off; it’s about time you start using those days anyway, kid.”

“Thank you, Edith,” you repeated warmly. “I’ll only read for pleasure this weekend and I’ll be sure to relax as best as I am able.”

“Good!” Edith said firmly. After a pause, she continued, “Go back to sleep, okay? Let me know if you need anything and I’ll be right over.”

You chuckled in response. “I will, Edith. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. See you Wednesday.”

“See you Wednesday,” you agreed, hanging up the phone.

You stretched out on the couch again, proud of your choice last night. You knew that if you had slept in your bed, you would be unable to get up without considerable pain. And, well, your couch was incredibly comfortable. Your bed was comfortable too, but not in a way that would make it a good idea for you to sleep there with your aching body.

After another strike of pain ran up and down your spine, you kicked your legs over the edge of the couch. With your body protesting loudly, and some of the protests making it out of your mouth in the form of grunts and groans, you managed to get up, open your curtains, and go to the kitchen.

As you made some toast and tea so you could take some painkillers and head back to sleep, you heard tapping on your window.

You leaned over the breakfast bar and scanned the windows, expecting to see the crows that you had befriended. Instead, you saw Spider-Man sitting on your fire escape and tapping on the window.

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed to that window and opened it. You could tell that Spider-Man was grinning under his mask as you managed to climb out the window and onto the fire escape, despite your body protesting.

“Hello again, Spider-Man,” you greeted him. “You’re here early.”

“Well,” the obviously altered voice began, “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Ah.”

“I was busy last night, so I couldn’t make it,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that was strangely familiar. “How are you feeling?”

You sighed slightly and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m making some breakfast so I can take some painkillers and sleep for a few more hours.”

“What, uh, what are you doing tonight?” he asked sheepishly.

“Why, Spider-Man? Are you going to ask me on a date or something?” you flirted lightly, feeling that it was harmless. Well, if that could even be considered flirting, since you didn’t think you were very good at flirting at all.

“N-no!” he stuttered with his white eyes wide as he looked away. “I was just curious. It’s, uh, just a question. It’s Friday, you know, and I was just—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him with a laugh. “I was just teasing. I’m going over to a friend’s place for game night.”

“Is this that same friend as the one you talked to me about?” he asked, his mask shifting in a way that told you he was wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yes,” you replied, crossing your arms over your stomach in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. “I kissed his cheek last night,” you admitted quietly.

“Ooo, spicy!” he chuckled, sounding weird with the voice changer.

“Shut up,” you muttered. “He was really sweet last night, and he was really flirty, I think. It made me feel… special.” You sighed and curled into yourself slightly. “He’s just being nice,” you reasoned. “I don’t think a guy like him would be capable of liking a gal like me romantically… or sexually.”

“Now why would you say that?” Spider-Man demanded angrily, making you jump in surprise. “And furthermore, how would you even know that?”

“I-I, well,” you stuttered, curling in again and looking away from him. “I just have a feeling, okay? And people aren’t really… interested in me… like that. Never have been. I’m just not… attractive and not interesting in a long-lasting way. That’s what all my exes have said, anyway, and… no one’s ever told me otherwise, no one outside of my close friend group. D-don’t get me wrong, I am trying to be better with my self-esteem, but… I’ve kinda given up on relationships. I’m just not made for them.”

Spider-Man let out a rather uncharacteristic growl, making you start again. “Your exes are garbage and I should beat them up for the way they obviously treated you. Those people don’t get to dictate what other people think of you.” Spider-Man suddenly took you by the shoulders. “Listen, Y/N, you are wonderful, okay? What those people said about you is wrong, because you are incredibly attractive and incredibly interesting, okay? Okay?”

You blinked in surprise at his serious tone, and the way his eyes had narrowed as he looked at you. After another moment, you nodded, not completely believing him, but feeling a little bit better about yourself.

“I-I… I’d better get going,” Spider-Man said after a few more heartbeats. “I should let you get back to your breakfast and your painkillers. Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks, Spider-Man,” you smiled gently.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he informed you as you stood up with aching limbs. He shot a web and stared at you for a moment. Then, to your surprise, he stepped forward on the fire escape and there was a strange sensation on your forehead. Spider-Man had pressed a kiss to your forehead through the mask. It was a little strange, but not unwelcome.

“Bye, Spider-Man, stay safe,” you said as a way to hide your sudden shyness.

“You too, Y/N,” Spider-Man said sincerely, tugging on the web he’d shot and swinging away. You watched for another moment as he disappeared around a building.

After cramming your body back through your window, you shut and locked it again. You slowly meandered back to the kitchen and crunched on your toast, deep in thought.

Spider-Man and Peter seemed to enjoy kissing your forehead. You sighed and just chalked it up to the kindness of sweet people. It seemed to be the only reasonable explanation for that sort of affection to be directed at you.

You finished your toast and took a painkiller with a swig of your tea. Settling back onto the couch, you turned the TV on for background noise and set an alarm. You desperately needed a shower before game night, but you also desperately needed more sleep.

As you were falling asleep, you got a text from Peter asking how you were feeling. You tiredly replied with a thumbs up emoji and a triple Z emoji. Your eyes drooped fully shut as you got a winky-kissy emoji from Peter in reply.