#i walk a fine line between the right and the real ; musings

[crappymixtape]

eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

[soulsxng]

MUSE: Ezra Keter

— basics

▸ is your muse tall/short/average?  5'9", so right about average!

▸ are they okay with their height?  Most of the time, he doesn't think about it too much. Other times, someone taller walks by him, and he's suddenly mourning the fact that he doesn't have an extra inch or two. Really! He'd be happy with even one more inch! He promises!

▸ what’s their hair like? Deep black, with a soft, but noticeable wave to it that gives it a decent bit of body. He's lucky enough to be able to just roll out of bed, brush through it real fast, and throw it in a ponytail or bun, and look perfectly fine. Fluctuates between being right around his nape, and being in line with the bottom of his shoulder blades. He doesn't get it cut often, so he tends to have it cut short, each time he goes in. Very soft and silky, so it doesn't lend itself to styling very well.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? Not really. He has a basic routine, but he's never really wanted to waste his time with any tedious beauty routines or anything like that. Plus, he doesn't know much about that kind of thing, so he wouldn't even know where to start!

▸ does your muse care about their appearance? ...Again, not really. He cares enough to look presentable most of the time, but at the same time, he really doesn't care if he has a day off and rolls up to the grocery store down the street to grab sandwich stuff or an instant meal in his pajamas real fast. Though I guess that's pretty much sweatpants and a t-shirt, so it's not especially odd.

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? Very much so. Ezra can be really sensitive about how other people think of him. Not to the point that, if someone doesn't really care for him, it'll ruin his day, but if someone is afraid of him? If someone says something even a little mean about him? He'll try to brush it off, or dismiss it with a laugh, but chances are that's going to stick with him the rest of the day.

— preferences

▸ indoors or outdoors? Outdoors

▸ rain or sunshine? Sunshine. He can't really go out in the rain all that much without ending up sick...though he does like listening to/watching the rain!

▸ forest or beach? I'm thinking forest, if only because he doesn't like crowded places, and the beach can get pretty crowded at times.

▸ precious metals or gems? Precious metals, if he absolutely had to choose. Really, he doesn't care much about either one, though.

▸ flowers or perfumes? Flowers

▸ personality or appearance? Personality

▸ being alone or being in a crowd? Being alone

▸ order or anarchy? Order

▸ painful truths or white lies? Painful truths

▸ science or magic? Magic

▸ peace or conflict? Peace

▸ night or day? Day

▸ dusk or dawn? Dusk

▸ warmth or cold? Warmth

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? Few close friends

▸ reading or playing a game? Playing a game

— questionnaire

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? Critical and demanding of himself. Even when he's sick, he'll try to push himself to do things, partly because he gets antsy, and partly to avoid feeling useless. Stubborn. Gets addicted to things pretty easily, and because of that, it's hard for him to avoid dangerous or risky situations if he's done something similar before and enjoyed it. Gives people too many chances.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? He has. It can make him get a little...frantic in his need to watch out for the people close to him, at times. He just wants his friends and loved ones to be safe, and happy. He's afraid of losing any more than he already has.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? Most of them are going to be with his family and friends. Being able to spend time with Levana is always a bright spot for him, since they can't be around each other often/for long periods of time. Meeting Sarakael in each life is another one. A lot of memories that stick with him especially vividly have music incorporated in them somehow, too!

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? Absolutely not. At least, when he's in control of his curse. Ezra will, even in a life or death fight, try everything he can to avoid killing someone. If it's the only option, or it absolutely comes down to "I'm about to die if I don't act right now", then he will...but it'd only be as a last resort.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? His curse would activate. High amounts of stress, or an especially volatile emotional state in general will lead to that. So a full on breakdown? Yeah, he'd absolutely be falling into the curse.

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? Yes, though that would also mean trusting that they'll be able to handle him when he loses control...which is enough to make him reluctant. He'd still trust them, but if he were ever to hurt someone that he trusted that much, even accidentally? He'd never let himself live it down.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? Very soft and affectionate. Constantly talking to them because they make him feel good, going out of his way to do or get nice things for them. He's a very sunny person normally, but he's anywhere near the person/people he loves? It would draw pretty much anyone's attention with how much he would just be radiating happiness and adoration.

[sins-of-the-sea]

//I am significantly less anal about "realism" in fight scenes, especially as I researched real life kung fu and then compared them to wuxia films, or Hollywood swashbuckling sword fights compared to real life fencing.

It's less about the discipline and realistic portrayal and more about the narrative. In reality, real fights are seldom last longer than a few seconds, don't involve fancy and unnecessary moves, and a single contact blow can risk major or even life-changing injury. But where is the fun of that in an exciting story with flying death-defying pirates where golems rise from the mud and daggers fly like they are alive?

Usually my threshold to cross between "exciting and cool" and "really cringey and obviously choreographed to pad out budget/visuals" is dependent on the story. Does this super awesome and super unrealistic fight serve a purpose to the story? Then you'll know my answer. I am the kind of person who can be super bored with what is supposed to be an exciting fight scene--I slept throughout all of Matrix 2 in theaters since the opening combat sequence, for example, and I groaned and rolled my eyes throughout the final battle (and even the wedding) of POTC3. So the issue of choreography, visuals, and spectacle isn't the issue, even if I may favor it over a 10-second honestly-boring-as-hell real life fencing match.

RPing fights on Tumblr, as I have found out, extremely bores me to tears. This isn't to say the RP partner is boring--it's just that fights are meant to be fast-paced, without the need to draw out the sequence with pages upon pages between days and weeks to describe one single stroke of action. If our muses are to fight and you REALLY want to write out the fight itself, consider these:

Is the fight intended to show the muse's powers on full display with the goal of developing your character and having a grasp of their abilities? HECK YEAH, let's do it!

Is the fight to settle a dispute? Hell yeah, let's do that too! But's let's plot out the outcome and work our way to it.

Is the fight a story in itself, where a piece of land or property has to be defended from a siege/heist, or a monster is on a rampage, or the stakes are otherwise high in some way? FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH, GIVE ME THAT SHIT!

Is the fight for the muses to "prove" themselves in-story, like for a job offer, or a short demonstration of a new ability? Let's please keep this short and to the point, as the fight is intended to be a stepping stone to a greater narrative rather than the focal point of the scene. Otherwise, these are fun in their own right.

Is it just goofiness? Crack? Or in-universe banter and silliness, like two bros duking it out in drunken brawl in a bar? Also short and to the point. Fun times CAN drag out and overstay their welcome. But note I love that shit to. In fact, I tend to adore these sort of fights the most.

Is the fight to obtain satisfaction from destroying my muses with their super awesome superpowers (without proper planning and prompt)? No. Fuck that shit. I hate RP fights to prove power and powerscaling. The first instance is different because the intention is development. There is a difference between "Look how cool my character can turn into shadows!" and "Look at how I have all the best armor in the world and I can kill God, also I can fly and turn into shadow!" THIS is where it crosses the line into cringey and I lose interest altogether. In that case, I just throw the fight and walk away, you can kiss my ass for not giving you the satisfaction of pwning my muses, and that is WITH the fact I write villains/antagonists.

Now if the fight is intended for anything else beyond these--or they fall into the "please keep it short" categories but you want to write them more out--then that's fine. I'd rather take these to Discord, where the fight can be written out in real time so the risk of dragging out won't happen. I don't want to clog my mutuals/followers' dashboard with constant reblogs of what is supposed to be a 2 minute fight. That's just, in my opinion, impolite.

[viviennexdumont]

Five hottest girls around?

“Are you joking? They’re all hot. I guess I can try to rank them…”

@mxrgofox​

@hokuspocus​

@clliexhstings​

@littlexgreyson​

@ninaxadler​

Special mention if she’d give up the goods:

@avery-carterwate

[elucidcted]

tag drop!!!

[jungkxook]

—the love bug. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)

⟶ rating: 18+

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

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

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

You see Jungkook every night without fail.

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

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

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

This night isn’t any different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No thanks.”

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

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

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

“She said she’s not interested.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, anyone, for that matter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s you!” You exclaim.

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

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

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

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

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

The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.

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

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

“Jungkook!”

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

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

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

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

“You have? Who told you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Y/N!”

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

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

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

“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”

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

That night you can hardly sleep.

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

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

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

“You again?” You ask humorously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The days pass in a very typical blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only he could be so brave without that mask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think so?”

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

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

“Who doesn’t?”

“I can name a few. Like the police.”

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

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

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

“Go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, I━”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”

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

“To add to the mystique?” he says.

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

“They would never be able to catch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“How does that make you feel?”

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

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

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

“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook.

It’s Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I show you something?”

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

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, if you insist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?”

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

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

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

“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then you’re kissing him.

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” he says weakly.

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

“No.”

“What?”

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

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

You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not that simple━”

“It sure seems like it is.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

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

Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.

“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”

“But I can handle it,” You insist.

“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”

“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”

Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.

You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.

In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.

It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.

There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.

“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.

“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”

Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.

“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”

“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”

“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.

“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”

You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”

You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━

“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”

Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.

He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.

You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.

Red and blue.

Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.

Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.

“Oh my god! Jungkook!”

Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.

“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”

His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.

“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”

“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”

“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”

A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”

Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.

Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.

When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.

“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”

Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”

He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.

There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.

You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.

Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.

Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.

It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.

“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”

You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.

“Come here,” he mumbles.

You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.

You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”

“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”

You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.

“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”

“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.

“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”

He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.

“Really?”

Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”

He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man is cool.”

“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”

A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.

“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”

“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”

The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.

“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.

“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”

You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.

“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”

“I’m listening.”

“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”

He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”

You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.

Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.

“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”

The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.

“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”

God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.

Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.

He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”

His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.

“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”

Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.

“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.

He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.

“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”

Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”

He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.

“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”

For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.

“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”

You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.

“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.

He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.

Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.

Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.

“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.

“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”

And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.

“Like this?” You gasp.

He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”

“Tell me,” You breathe.

Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.

“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”

You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.

You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.

So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”

He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.

Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.

He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.

When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.

“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”

He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”

Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”

“I know that,” he chuckles.

“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”

Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.

Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[proserpina-magnus]

Hi! Can I request a young Sirius black x reader smut? Readers boobs are all tender and swollen and Sirius makes her feel better? Sirius black is definitely a boob guy

Thank you so much for you request! I really liked this idea and I had fun writing it! Hope you enjoy. xo 

Sirius Black and breast worship 

Word count: 1601

[ warning: fem reader, description of aching breasts, slight praise kink, slight degrading kink, tittie slapping (mentioned once), breast worship, smut, titty fucking, mention of the words ‘slut’ ‘‘good girl’  etc...] 

You let out a deep sigh, your breast uncomfortably pushing against your bra. You felt the wire dig into your ribs, making you twist and turn to try and get it in the right position. 

You tried to focus on your food, watching as James did something stupid to try and please Lily, it didn't work. You kept twitching in your seat, your fork twirling around your uneaten food as you felt waves of ache wash over your chest. 

"Something wrong?" Sirius whispered to you, taking a sip of his water as he eyed you suspiciously. You had been acting weird all morning, and it wasn't doing you any better that most of the guys wouldn't stop staring at your chest. 

"Just fine," you muttered, fork scraping against your plate as you move your shoulder blades. You wanted to toss your bra away, going bare would at least give you some comfort for the ache. 

"You don't seem fine," your boyfriend mused, his shoulder clinking with yours as he finished his drink. You glared at him, already fed up with how your day was going. You felt hot in the face, your throat sweating as you blinked back some sensitive tears. 

"Yeah well I'm not, I'm uncomfortable and my tits fucking hurt," you whispered angrily to him, keeping your voice low in case anyone bystander would catch what you were saying. 

Sirius pushed his plate aside, standing up before helping you stand as well. 

"Where are you two going?" Remus asked eyebrow raised as some of the people at the  Gryffindor table looked towards your direction. 

"Just a well-needed break is all, don't wait up," Sirius told them, pulling you along the dinner hall. You let him, hoping he was going to provide some comfort to your aching breast. 

"Why didn't you tell me this morning? I would have loved to be buried in your tits," Sirius asked, walking past talking portraits and statues before he got to the fat lady. He quickly said the password, pulling you along quickly up the stairs. 

"I thought it would go away, Sirius please hurry they hurt," you whined, feeling your breast bounce against your bra as you make your way up the stairs, Sirius turns quickly eyes instantly going to your clothed chest. He gave you a smirk then connected his lips with yours. 

"Shh, I'll take care of you real soon I promise," Sirius cooed quietly, leading you to his empty dorm. Once inside and the door locked with a charm, his fingers were opening your blouse. You let him undress you, helping him pull off the fabric. 

He came to sit at the end of the bed, bringing you closer with a hand on your hip as he looked up towards you. 

"Hurry up," you said, unhooking your bra as it fell against the floor. Sirius let his eyes wander to your exposed chest, your breast flushed and tender as you exhale from the release. 

His hands instantly came to rest on them, palms massaging your aching tits as your hands found their way into his hair. 

"Fuck they look so swollen baby," Sirius said, his fingers finding their way to pull against your nipple as you crawl onto his lap. 

"Just touch them please, you make them feel better," you told him, pushing your chest into his hand as you let your eyes fall shut. You let out whimpers as he massaged your breasts, tears coaxing your vision as you felt relief wash over you. 

The weight of them disappeared as Sirius kept playing with them, your breast slowly releasing the tension as it got messaged by his well-needed hands. 

"That feels so fucking nice, you have no idea" you whimpered, shoulders relaxed as you lean into him. Your hips meet his, you easily fall into a subtle grind. You open your eyes briefly, seeing Sirius's face. His pupils were blown wide open, he looked like the happiest man alive. You chuckle, making your chest bounce as you can almost see Sirius roll his eyes into the back of his skull. 

"God, can I fuck you? Please we have 20

Minutes, I wanna see your tits bounce," Sirius said straight forward, he stared into your eyes with a pleading look. His bottom lip almost quivered as he gave you his famous puppy dog eyes. 

"Sure, but I don't wanna ride, you do the work," you say, getting off his lap as you fall against his bed. Sirius smiled, liking the new position as he started to undress himself quickly. 

He kissed you gently, his hands working to get rid of your skirt. He didn't even take off your underwear, pushing them aside as his fingers came against your soaking slit. 

"Your so wet baby, just from me playing with your tits?" Sirius teased, before lining his cock with your slit as he looked up towards your eyes. 

"Oh shush Sirius, you wanna fuck me or not?" You told him, annoyed that your breasts weren't getting any attention. The ache slowly came back, making you whine as you stared up at him. 

"May I?" He asked gently, the tip of his cock slowly pushing its way inside you. You deeply inhale, nodding your head as you hold right onto his shoulders. 

He pushes in slowly, not stopping before he's buried hilt deep inside you. You exhale, getting used to the feeling as you find his hands. You bring his hands to your chest, making a whimper as you feel him take them.

"God your so fucking pretty," Sirius said, his palm massaging your breast once again as you let out pleased moans. 

"I know," you winked at him, moving your hips as you guided him into moving. Sirius was absolutely awe-struck, his eyes wide as he fucked into you just right. 

Your back immediately arched when his cock found your sweet spot, making you cling onto his flesh as you pressed yourself against him. You felt the relief fill you again as Sirius's hands worked their way to massage the underside of your breast. You enjoyed it, glowing in the feeling of being completely pampered. 

"You like when I fuck you, don't you slut?" Sirius muttered loudly, his fingers hooking against your nipple as he gave them a generous tug. Your eyes opened quickly, breath catching in your throat. 

When you didn't answer right away, Sirius let his hand come down to slap against your tender breast. Making your skin jump as you let out a loud whimper, you heard him chuckle before massaging over the forming red spot. 

"I like when you fuck me, you make me feel so good," you praised him, feeling his hand ease up as he rolled your breast between his hands gently. You spread your legs wider, letting him hit every curve that was offered as your head fell against the pillow. 

"I know you do, such a good girl for my cock," Sirius praised back, smiling as he pulled his hands away before placing them onto the back of your thigh. 

He brought you closer, hips jerking into you as his cock filled you deep and hard. Your breath was uneven as you came closer to your high. 

Sirius watched your tits bounce with each thrust, the sight almost making him cum hard. He fucked you faster, thrust becoming uneven but godly. You were almost screaming at the pleasure, your hands grabbing anything you could find as your eyes shut tight. 

"Gonna cum against my cock?" Sirius asked, voice sweaty as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

"Oh fuck, please don't stop," moans were leaving your lips quickly, you couldn't even process what you were saying as euphoria washed over you. 

You felt him pull out, letting you take a moment to catch your breath. You opened your eyes, watching as Sirius continued to stare at your chest with a grateful expression. 

"You didn't cum," you told him, a bit of guilt washed over you before you saw his happy expression. 

"No, I will," he said, you gave him a confused expression. He couldn't possibly want to go again? You only have a few more minutes until class would start. 

"Can I fuck your titties please?" He asked, sending you a small smile as you only nodded. Sirius made a loud sound, he was incredibly happy that his dick would be buried into your chest. 

You slid onto your knees, his wooden floor felt hard against them but you couldn't care as you positioned your boobs against his cock. 

Sirius grabbed your hair, running it through his fingers as he let you take the lead. You bounced your breast against his cock, spitting against it to create more friction. 

The sight of you made Sirius almost cum, he didn't take long before he was groaning out his appreciation and white fluid coated your chest. 

You pulled back, your breast less swollen and tender as they lay covered in cum. Sirius watched for a moment, taking in the glory of the sight before him. 

"Your a fucking goddess," Sirius concluded, kissing your forehead before running off quickly to grab a towel. He cleaned you up swiftly, making sure to massage your breast between his hands to make sure they weren't still sore. 

"Do they feel alright, they don't look as swollen," Sirius asked, helping you into your clothes before putting on his own. 

"Yeah, they feel better. Thank you," you told him, kissing his lips while helping him buckle his belt. 

"Any time," Sirius winked, heading towards your next class.

[atlabeth]

warmth - zuko x fem!reader

summary: the two times he notices her shivering and the one time he does something about it. 

a/n: lmaoo we have been in a DROUGHT my people. i have barely given you any content this whole month and i feel bad. i wrote this out over the course of a few hours after getting the idea in the shower. i did not proofread. i am not sorry. enjoy.

and NO that end part is not dirty it is simply two kids sharing a bed for warmth bc they got cute lil crushes on each other 🔫🔫🔫🔫

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): this is pure fluff bbbbbb 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three times. 

It happened three times before Zuko was finally able to get over himself and have a real, face to face, one on one conversation with the one person he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. 

Y/N. It was a name that had made a home in his mind, belonging to a girl that had made a home in his heart. He knew that she was a waterbender from the Northern Tribe and that she had joined the team after the Siege of the North, but apart from that, her life was a mystery to him. She was a mystery to him. 

It was pathetic. How could he become so enraptured with a girl when he didn’t even know the first thing about her? When he had spent the past couple of months fighting against her, trying everything in his power to hurt her? When she had no idea he even thought about her that way? 

Sometimes Zuko questioned himself, but then he caught a glimpse of her — the gleam of her hair, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she laughed, the fierceness with which she fought rivalled only by the way she cared for her injured friends afterwards — and he laughed inwardly. 

There was no way he couldn’t feel that way about her. She was simply enchanting. 

But there was only one thing he questioned more than his affections — why in the name of Agni could he not just walk up and start a conversation with her? There was no one else in the world that made him as nervous, as flushed, as completely incapable of basic speech as Y/N, and it drove him insane. 

It drove him insane that it took three times. 

~~~

The first time he noticed her shivering, it wasn’t on purpose. 

Zuko was serving tea to everyone as they gathered around the campfire, chuckling as Aang recounted one of their earlier adventures, back when he was still trying to capture the Avatar. Thinking about his past, who he used to be, was painful, but it gave him all the more reason to be thankful for where he was now. 

He wasn’t as focused on Aang’s story as he was on Y/N, though. She could hardly keep her thoughts to herself, interrupting every couple of seconds to add a detail that Aang forgot or give her own input on the events that he was describing. He started to frown as he noticed her shivering despite sitting right next to the fire — Zuko didn’t even realize how distracted he was until he felt someone hitting his arm. 

“Hey!” He was snapped out of his reverie by the harshness of Katara’s voice, angrily gesturing at the broken teacup and now spilled tea all over Haru. 

“Oh— I am so sorry,” he stammered as he crouched down and started to pick up the pieces on the ground. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s just.. really hot tea,” Haru muttered with a small wince. “No big deal.” 

“You’re right. It’s not a big deal.” Y/N raised her hand and with a small, fluid movement, she bent the liquid out of the fabric and formed it into a tiny sphere in the air. “See? Good as new. And you’re not even burnt.” 

Haru chuckled and pulled at his tunic, giving Y/N a grateful nod. 

“Can a sky bison drink tea?” She mused as she moved the liquid orb around in the air. 

“I don’t think so,” Aang said with a small laugh. 

“Shame we have to waste it.” Y/N bent it away from the group and let it fall to the ground, sinking into the rock below them. “Zuko can always make more though, right?” She said with a hopeful smile. 

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” 

“See, guys? No harm, no foul. You’re the best, Zuko.” She gave him an overexaggerated wink then began to pester Aang to get back to the story, leaving Zuko to continue handing out tea and keep his shaking hands as steady as possible. 

She really had no idea the effect she had on him. 

~~~ 

The second time? It was definitely on purpose. 

The night was unusually cold, even with the bonfire blazing in the middle, and he found his eyes trained once more on Y/N. This time she was the storyteller, giving them all a taste of Northern Water Tribe culture as she recounted a bedtime story she was told as a child. She had a whole arsenal of character voices at her disposal, keeping everyone thoroughly entertained despite the numerous lines she forgot. Zuko didn’t even realize he was staring until Sokka elbowed him in the elbow, gesturing at her with a nod of his head and a cocky grin. 

“What are you doing, just gawking at her like that?” 

“Wh— gawking? I am not gawking. I’m— I’m just listening to her.” 

“Yeah, sure. But I’m pretty sure Appa could start talking right now and you wouldn’t notice because you are hopelessly into her.” He gestured at Zuko’s eyes with his hand then in Y/N’s direction. “Gawking.” 

“I— I am not!” He protested, tearing his eyes away from Y/N’s animated face to give Sokka one of his signature glares. He lowered his voice to a whisper to ensure that no one would hear them. “I’m not into her, I’m not gawking, I am appreciating her storytelling.” 

“Uh huh, yeah.” Sokka looked at her and grinned before glancing back at Zuko. “If you’re not into her, then I can ask her out, right?” 

Zuko didn’t respond, simply kept glaring at him in hopes that it would intimidate him into backing down so he wouldn’t have to say anything and risk embarrassing himself. 

Sokka chuckled and held up his hands. “Alright, geez, I’m just joking. But maybe use some of that fire to keep it going? Looks like she’s cold.” 

Almost immediately, he broke eye contact and fueled the fire with a simple blast. Y/N shot him a grateful smile and nodded as she continued her story, and Zuko noticed her hands falling back down into her lap from their former place on her arms. 

No amount of fire could’ve caused as much warmth as her smile. He was sure of that. 

~~~

There was no way he could miss it the third time. After all, she was the only one there. 

Zuko hadn’t been able to sleep so he ended up outside, and there she was — sitting there, all alone in the middle of the temple grounds, shivering quietly with a moonless night sky as her backdrop. Before he could second guess himself, Zuko started walking over. 

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him without even looking up as she pulled her arms around herself, bringing her legs up to her chest in an effort to conserve all the warmth she could. 

“Hey.” Zuko took a seat on the ground next to her and crossed his legs. “Are you cold?” 

She let out an airy chuckle and nodded. “Strange, isn’t it? I grow up surrounded by snow and ice and I’m perfectly fine, but after a few months away a couple of breezes are tearing me down. I don’t get it.” 

“You’ve been shivering a lot lately,” he said after a beat of silence. Y/N raised an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile. 

“What, have you been looking?”

That sent him stammering. “I-I— yes? I mean— no, I’ve noticed, but I’m not actively looking at you, that’s weird, I’m not— I mean—”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed, the same laugh that sent flutter bats through his stomach and made his heart burst with happiness. She set her hand on his and squeezed, giving him a gentle look that almost immediately ceased his rambling. “Zuko, it’s alright. It’s… nice that you’ve noticed. Like you’re looking out for me or something.” 

He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find his voice — he was sure his cheeks were as red as his tunic, just at the simple touch of her hand — and it only got worse as she placed her other hand on top of it. 

“You’re warm,” Y/N muttered. “Like… intensely warm.”

“Is that bad?” He wondered aloud, preemptively panicking. “Do you want me to turn it off? I can’t turn it off, but I could find a way somehow—” 

“Thank you,” she interrupted with another small laugh, “but no. I don’t need you to uh, turn off your firebending. That already happened once. But you’re adorable to think of me like that.” 

The two of them stared into each other’s eyes, the air between them heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. Y/N pursed her lips and bit back a growing smile as she glanced at the ground. 

“This is, uh… really helping. With the cold, I mean. And I was… I guess I was just…” Another laugh. “I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to spend the night with me? Just because my room is especially freezing, and you’re so warm, and I think I would sleep a lot better if I—”

Now it was his turn to interrupt her rambling. There was something about her getting so flustered about him in the same way he did around her that made this easier. “I’d love to.”

“Great,” she breathed, the same smile from before returning just a little bit brighter. Y/N stood up and they began their walk back into the temple, hands still intertwined, warmth emanating between the two of them. 

Three times. 

Two strikes. 

One success. 

And that was all he needed.  

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨4

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) only plot hehe

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m at my tipping point, I swear. I’m dealing with everything in our household, new bed (delayed delivery yay!), cleaning, cooking, dog walking, and working. My only escape are my fics and this weekend I’m telling everyone to fuck off so I can do the writeathon... but sorry for the rant, enjoy more Clark.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Wednesday trickled by like sand in a glass. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you typed away and a double espresso shot was the only thing that saw you through your hours at the gallery. Vanessa was excited for her next event and already asking after some new pieces from you. You promised her some from your storage unit to stave her off as you held in your yawns. 

You collapsed into bed that night beside Marcus. He complained about his day until he drifted off and you followed suit shortly after. You awoke with a decision, the echoes of your boyfriend’s gripes in your head and heart. You hated how miserable his job made him, how dull your own was. It felt like there was nothing else but the almighty dollar.

You called Clark after an email to Jim, your nerves alight in anticipation of the disgruntled reply. It didn’t matter. You were done. You didn’t need to worry about the all caps messages and curt zoom calls.

“Hey,” Clark picked up, he sounded out of breath.

“Oh, hey, sorry, it’s me,” you swiveled in your chair, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Nope, just getting in a work out,” he grunted, “you’re not bugging me if you have good news for me.”

“I think… I do,” you forced out, “I just sent in my resignation.”

“Mmm, you don’t sound… happy,” he hummed.

“I am, I think I’m just processing it,” you replied, “I said I’d let you know today so I’m letting you know.”

“Well, how soon can you be here?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I guess, I could leave as soon as you want me,” you said.

“I’ll send a car,” he intoned, “I’ll give the driver your number, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” your voice almost squeaked, “I can do that.”

“Alright, sweetheart, see ya soon.”

The line cut out and you lowered your phone slowly. You stared at Outlook and the new email icon along the taskbar. You closed the laptop and stood. You could worry about the fallout later, right now, you had to get ready for another day of painting.

🎨

It was starting to feel like deja vu every time you arrived at Clark’s house. You got out and thanked the drive, Jeremy, before he drove off. The doors opened before you got to the top of the steps and your host was already dressed in the same outfit he wore for each session. His hair was neat but his beard was even thicker than before.

“I think you can tell I’m a little antsy to start,” he chuckled, “how are you, sweetheart?”

That pet name caught in your mind again. It might just be a habit of his. Nothing more than an absent-minded word.

“Me too, honestly,” you smiled, “but I have a weird question for you.”

“Ask away,” he said as he walked with you through the foyer.

“The beard… you want that in the portrait or--”

“Oh, ha, yeah,” he ran his fingers along his jawline, “I guess I wasn’t thinking. You’re the artist, what do you think?”

“Well, erm, either way is fine,” you said, “I was just… wondering. I’m not even close to starting on, uh, you yet. I mean, right now I’m just working on the background and basic shapes.”

“I’ll let you make the call when you get there,” he said, “say the word and it’s gone.”

“Alright,” you came to the top of the stairs and he pointed you ahead of him.

He followed you as you entered and you went about filling the jar with water and resituating the set up. He sat as you mixed and chose your brush. You climbed the ladder and peered around the canvas at him. He took on the same pose as usual and you dipped the bristles into the pigment. You could make a happy life of this.

🎨

Clark shifted and cleared his throat. You rolled your wrist and glanced back over at him as you drew your hand back from the canvas. He braced the chair and pushed himself up.

“How about a break?” he asked as he shook out his arms, “back’s a bit stiff.”

“Sure,” you said, “I think I could sit down for a moment.”

You took a step down the rung of the ladder but your toe slipped and suddenly your palette was against your chest. You slid down backwards as Clark rushed over and barely kept you from toppling the entire thing over. You laughed at yourself as he righted you and looked down at your paint-streaked shirt.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“You okay?” he asked as he kept his hand on your upper arm, “be careful.”

“Yeah, I’m-- clumsy, is all,” you carefully pulled away and set down your brush and palette.

“Come on, sit,” he pulled up the stool and planted it before you, “take a minute.”

As you sat, he stretched his arms over his head and then out to the sides. He paced around the other side of the table, long strides as he worked the cramps from his long legs. He stopped and came up to play with a brush as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“Well, I did have another offer for you,” he said, “I was thinking of waiting but might as well ask now.”

“Oh?” you raised your brows curiously.

He swished a slender brush in the air then lowered it and picked at the tip.

“I’m having a get together on Saturday, some business friends and the like,” he said as he set the brush back with the rest, “it won’t be work. You’ve earned some time off. You can even bring the boyfriend.”

“Saturday?” you pondered, “I’m usually at the gallery on Saturdays.”

“It would be great networking,” he said, “and I already told all my friends about you. They’re excited to see your work. It will almost be like a viewing and it’s only right the artist is there.”

“I could make it work,” you mulled, “Marcus would love to come back.” You snickered, “he loves this place.”

“It’s a nice house,” he said casually, “a bit big for one person… hence, the party.”

“I’ll put it in my calendar,” you stood and slid your palette closer and cleaned it off to remix the mess of paints.

“Great,” he said as he rounded the table and brushed close to you, “it’ll be nice to look at a mug besides mine, huh?”

You laughed as you squeezed out the dark paint and nodded, “ha, sure.”

🎨

The rest of your week was spent much the same. Jeremy drove you to Clark’s and you went up to the studio to continue your work between small talk and silences that grew so thick you had to break them with mindless comments. It wasn’t enough to focus on the path of your brush as the man tugged at your attention.

Marcus was excited when you told him about the party. He raved about how he needed to let loose, about how much expensive alcohol he was going to drink, and the awesome backflip he was gonna do into the pool. You reminded him, he hadn’t done anything like that since college but he swore he could still do it.

You didn’t share the sentiment. You were anxious. You were flattered to be invited but despite what Clark said, it still felt like work. His friends were going to be there and he apparently was trying to sell them on your art. 

You didn’t realise until after you hit send on your email, but you put your livelihood in this man’s hands. A man, you reminded yourself, who was little more than a stranger.

On Friday, a day you were thankfully not called to the mansion to teeter on the ladder and paint, the buzzer rang and drew you off the couch from amid your YouTube binge. The man on the speaker called back that he had a delivery and you let him up. You took the box from him, the thick silver ribbon giving away the sender even before you could read the tag.

Inside you found a black dress with little gemstones set into the fabric like stars in the sky. It was nicer than anything you’d ever owned before and a pair of silver shoes were tucked in beneath the outfit. You took the shoes from the tissue paper and something else shifted in the bottom.

You reached in and revealed a velvet box from the depths of overzealous stuffing. You opened the lid and found a simple chain of diamonds. You gaped in disbelief. They were real. The fake ones didn’t look so nice.

You phone chimed before you could even think to call Clark. It was as if he could see you. You answered and your voice warbled pathetically.

“Hi, I was just gonna call,” you touched your throat as it constricted.

“Yeah? I got the notification that it was delivered,” he said, “you like it?”

“It’s too much,” you gulped out, “really, I can’t--”

“I want you to look nice. I want you to feel good and have a good time,” he said, “I feel like you’ve been working so hard. You need a chance to just let it all go.”

“Look, I…” you were uncertain how to handle it. It was more than generosity but you felt wrong denying it as much as you did accepting it, “I’ve never had a boss buy me diamonds. At least let me give those back.”

“Boss?” he mused on the word, “I suppose, but you gotta dress the part now, sweetheart. You’re gonna rub shoulders with a lot of rich dicks like me. Pardon my language.”

“I didn’t realise it was such an upscale thing,” you put the velvet box down and turned to sit on the couch beside the large box. You played with the silver ribbon and chewed your lip.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing, you got this,” he said, “trust me, if you can win me over, my friends will be child’s play.”

“Mhmmm,” you stared at the tv mindlessly, “Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing all this?”

There was silence and you heard him sigh then a subtle metallic click.

“Because I can. And you’re a talented artist. Didn’t all the big painters used to have patrons back in the day? You know, Da Vinci and all that.”

“Sure, I guess--”

“Look, sweetheart, I’m glad you like the dress, I gotta go.”

He hung up abruptly and you turned your phone to stare at it in confusion. You were starting to get a bad feeling and that little voice in that back of your head, that little sabotaging bitch, whispered in your ear. No, you wouldn’t let your self-doubt get the best of you this time. You either grabbed this chance or you spent the rest of your life doing menial work and painting the world as it passed you by.

🎨

Friday night, Marcus couldn’t stop rambling about the party the next day. You just couldn’t get over the tickle in your chest, the same one you got before job interviews and doctor’s appointments. You were on edge, even as you spent your stress on him, your body writhing against his as you panted and pouted. It had been a while since you fucked. All the work and the stress had just let things slip past you. Maybe with your new gig, you could get back to those early days when it was all you wanted to do.

You slept soundly. You blamed the sex and the momentous week. You got up, had a lazy brunch time meal, and beat Marcus at MarioKart several times over before he convinced you it was time to get ready. 

You pulled on the gifted outfit after fighting with your make-up and hair. You gave a little tada spin to Marcus and he lifted his brow as he tried to figure out his tie.

“Wow, where’d you get that?” he purred, “fuck, let’s be late.”

He ran his hands over your hips as you neared him and fixed his tie for him. You giggled and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Jeremy’s on his way,” you warned, “I don't wanna bite the hand that feeds.”

“Oh, and it feeds you well,” Marcus chirped, “you think he’ll let me have a spin in the McClaren?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. I don’t need to scrape you off the side of the road,” you took your phone as the screen lit up, “come on, he’s here.”

“Fuck, babe, really, you’re gonna make me follow you out of here with your ass looking like that?”

“Stop,” you tittered, “you know, there might be more sellers tonight?”

“Oh yeah? I guess you’ll be paying a mortgage soon enough.”

“Me?” you scoffed.

“Sure, I’ll be your sugar baby,” he kidded.

“Well, baby is accurate,” you teased as you stepped onto the elevator, “please, just behave.”

🎨

You were surprised to see Vanessa at the party but reassured to see a familiar face. Clark had been distracted by his other guests and you did your best to mingle, letting Marcus take the lead until he was distracted by another guest’s Rolex and started asking too many questions. If you did start selling art to these kinds, you suspected you’d be paying for a lot of overpriced brands. That was a worry for another time.

You stood with Vanessa and a man she introduced you to. Bruce Wayne was tall and his dark-hair was combed back neatly as he spoke over the glass of wine in his hand. You were bored of the Monet-Manet argument, one you’d heard a million times from the stubborn gallery owner, and you were at your limit of socialisation.

You excused yourself and put down your unfinished drink on a table. You looked around but couldn’t see Marcus anywhere. The last you saw him, he was with Clark but you couldn’t find him either. You frowned and wandered between the pairs and trios gabbing around the room.

Just past the bar, you looked back and still no sign of either man. You huffed and your heels clicked into the foyer and to the stairs. You’d go to the studio and sit for a moment and collect yourself. You just needed to take a breath.

You climbed the stairs slowly, the din of the party floating up behind you. You came to the top but stopped as your eyes were drawn to a pair of open doors opposite the studio. You neared and stayed against the wall as you peeked inside. Marcus admired an old-six shooter and spun the barrel.

“You got everything, man, I swear,” you hid behind the door frame and listened.

“Eh, it’s all just things,” Clark replied, “I bought that from an auctioneer down in Texas. A verified antique but it just hangs here. Not good for much but looking at it.”

“Dude, what I wouldn’t do to live here? Have cool guns and even cooler cars? Shit, you know how fucked it is that my lady is making bank and I’m over here with my dick in my hands? I mean, I’m proud of her but… I mean, if I could get paid thousands for drawing, I would’ve tried to learn.”

“She’s good. Dedicated,” Clark remarked, “she’s special. Worth more than money.”

Marcus hummed and you heard the barrel click back into the place. Neither of the men spoke as you heard something shift and Clark cleared his throat. Subtle footsteps moved around the room and you pressed yourself to the wall. You should leave and let them talk but you couldn’t help but be curious.

“Isn’t she?” Clark prodded.

“Y-yeah, but… I don’t know. I just wish I had more,” Marcus said, “I probably sound like a chump, huh?”

“You can’t have it all,” Clark replied.

“Says the guy who can buy anything and everything,” Marcus moped.

“Oh?” Clark intoned, “so… how about it then? Fifty thousand.”

“For what?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Her,” Clark answered.

“Her-- I… my girlfriend?” he sputtered.

“If money can buy me anything, that’s what I want,” Clark said firmly, “it’s a one time offer… whether or not you agree to it, I’m gonna fuck her.”

You skin crawled at his words and you covered your mouth in disgust and shock. You inched closer to the door to hear better as you waited for the response.

“One hundred,” Marcus said.

“Seventy-five,” Clark countered.

“That’s my girlfriend, dude,” Marcus hissed.

“And yet you’re haggling with me over her. Eighty.”

You tore yourself from the wall before you could hear anymore. You felt hollow and heavy all at once. Your eyes were glossy as you scurried over to the studio doors and pushed the left one open. You unhooked the diamond necklace and tossed it onto the paint-stained palette and rolled up your brushes.

You stormed over blindly to the easel and pushed it over. It clattered to the floor loudly but you were already out the door and halfway down the stairs. You gripped your clutch and the bundle of paintbrushes tightly as you continued on outside and the blurred outlines of luxury cars passed you by. 

You stomped up the long drive in your heels as you flicked away tears and pulled out your phone. You knew it was too good to be true. Any of it; your art, Clark, Marcus. You weren’t good for anyone unless they could get something out of you.

[sylverstorms]

Bela x Maiden ----Songbird Ch. 3

Ch. 1 Ch. 2

Cold days blend into colder nights.

Life has become an unchanging cycle; eat, work, sleep, try to stay alive.

One would think hardship brings humans who share it closer, but you quickly realized in the castle that couldn't be further from the truth. The maids are divided, into those that hate the Dimitrescus and those who do not, with very few individuals walking the thin grey line in-between.

Perhaps there can be no real companionship when it's all about survival, is the conclusion you arrive to.

Either way, it feels awfully lonely, with just your songs and memories there with you for comfort.

Part of you craves an escape from your thoughts so badly it starts wishing for Bela to come feed from you, if only for those precious hazy minutes where it all goes blank.

At first, you think you may be going crazy to think that. Then you notice other maids trying to get on Daniela's good graces by playing her games and Cassandra, on more than one occasion, tugging a particularly beautiful girl –Alexia, you think her name is— off to the less-frequented wings of the castle.

So, maybe, you muse, that's the winning tactic here. Keep your enemies closer and all that. The problem is... you're not so sure you see Bela as an enemy, exactly, especially after the way she came to your rescue from that creature roaming the back yard.

A knock on your door breaks you from your thoughts.

It's unusual for anyone to come looking for you so late in the night –you were just getting ready for bed after your shower, too.

Still, you call "One moment!" and put on the shirt you removed just a few moments ago.

When you open the door, the last person you expect to see outside of it is Bela.

The sight of her piercing yellow eyes and fine features nearly makes you jump; you lock your muscles in place at the last second not to embarrass yourself.

"Oh—hello." you greet.

"I have something for you. Thought you'd want to see it sooner, rather than later." she explains in her low voice. For another second, though, you stand too stunned to move or reply. "Are you going to let me in or...?"

"Right. I'm sorry. This is just –unexpected." And suddenly you are shy as all hell to let her into your bedroom. "Sorry. Come in."

Bela gives you a look as she strides in, black robes flowing behind her like smoke. She stops at the middle of the chamber, turns... and presents you with an object you recognize all too well;

The matching-patterned notebook and pen your little sister gifted you for your birthday. You know it's yours because the rose carved on the cover is unmistakable, as is the little wear at the bottom of its spine.

Words dissipate from your mind and lose their meaning. You feel stabbed, bleeding emotion so intensely you cannot hold back the tears that sting in your eyes.

"I told you I'd deliver your letter to your home personally. I think this suffices as proof?" Bela voices it somehow as both a statement and a question.

With trembling fingers, you take the notebook from her. Dammit, you don't want to cry, but you already are.

"It does." By some miracle, you manage to keep your voice steady. "Thank you. You... don't know how much this means to me."

Bela only gives a quiet nod.

"...were my parents at home? ...was my sister?" you loathe how your voice cracks at the last word.

"They're all well. Physically." She assures. You are not meeting her eyes, instead keeping busy –hiding your tears from her— with placing the notebook on your vanity.

Physically, she said. Because emotionally your disappearance has wrecked them and your letter will rip out their heart in exchange for their safety.

When you turn around, Bela is seated at the edge of your bed, looking about your chambers. For someone who usually bears such an intimidating air, she looks surprisingly small right there.

"How do you sleep in this room? It's so cold." She almost appears to be fighting off a shiver.

You don't know what compels you to sit next to the mutant predator. "I've gotten used to it, I guess." you shrug. "Shouldn't you be completely oblivious to temperature changes, miss Vampire?" It's a half-hearted attempt to mask your sadness, at best.

"Va-" Bela makes a slight grimace. "Do you think I sparkle under the sun, too?"

Your jaw drops at the inquiry. With how backwards everything in the castle is, you didn't think she would get any modern-book reference.

"Surprised, little songbird? Try having Daniela as your sister and not knowing of every silly romance novel in existence." The exasperation in her tone, combined with that slow eye-roll, draws a tiny chuckle out of you.

"Oh, but you must like at least one of them." you prod.

"If I told you, I would then have to kill you." Bela replies and stands to leave.

The scariest part is, your hand nearly reaches up to stop her. You know this isn't the least bit alright –something must be very wrong with you— but you don't want to be alone, feeling as vulnerable as you do right now.

Still... to ask for this danger longer, isn't that a sign of insanity?

You remember how her arms carried you, after she saved your life. You also remember how those same hands smashed a man's head against the wall like a soda can. One moment you see her as this engaging mystery... the next, as a cold-blooded killer. It is endlessly confusing.

Bela stops before your vanity, scrutinizing eyes glued to an object there. You can't guess what it is that captures her so completely, until...

"What is this?" she asks, squeezing a small, makeshift teddy bear in her palm.

The embarrassment from earlier kicks right back in and makes you want to drop your face in your hands. Out of all the things in your room, she had to linger on that. Your little towel-teddy that you one day made on a whim. Complete with buttons for eyes and a broken little plastic triangle for a nose.

You're on your feet in an instant, arm shooting to snatch the toy from her. "That's nothing!"

Bela is faster, though, hiding it behind her back in one swift movement. "It doesn't look like nothing." A smirk is precariously dancing on her lips and you hate how it draws your attention to their –admittedly very attractive– shape.

Once again, you make an attempt to grab the teddy that proves futile. It does, however, bring you practically against her chilly front, so close you can count every individual eyelash if you so wish to. Her perfume surrounds you, lulls you, makes you fight against the effect it has on your mind.

Another try. Bela uses her height advantage to raise the bear high above both your heads. She even has the audacity to shake it a bit, taunting you.

"What's wrong?" the jerk asks, criminally amused at your peril.

Your eyes lock, green to yellow. There's no way you'll jump for the prize like a well-trained pet Bela's in the process of teaching a new trick to. But. You're also not one to admit defeat so easily.

Two can play at this game. you think and don't stop to reason with yourself about how foolishly dangerous your next move is.

A finger reaches up to hook delicately at the chain of the blonde's necklace, giving a light tug. You lower your voice a flirty octave, momentarily bold enough to press fully up to Bela as you say...

"Hey. This little cutie's mine."

You didn't think it would work. You didn't think period. But your captor's lips part in surprise and her arm lowers...

And you grab the bear. Success.

Now it's your turn to hide it behind you. She can easily pry it from your fingers, of course, can all too easily hurt you –badly, permanently– for daring to touch her without permission. Part of you worries that will be the case as you study Bela's wide eyes. The rest of you trusts that she won't.

The blonde huffs and looks away, as though disappointed at herself for losing her leverage. But you can't help but think there's more to her not meeting your eyes afterwards.

Could it be that she's... flustered? You wonder. That's... a very human response.

"I can still take it." she states, eyeing your arm in consideration. You're far more focused on your proximity at the moment, rather than the teddy.

"I know, but I won it fair and square." you quietly respond. There's a fragile thing between you you fear might break if you're any louder.

"Fair is subjective." Bela states.

When you dare look into her irises, you find that they're nothing short of hypnotic. You always knew she was beautiful, at least without the blood and murder in the foreground of the picture, yet the thought strikes you quite badly now.

"It's late. I should let you rest." The blonde steps back and takes whatever mood had settled over the two of you with her.

Or maybe you shouldn't. The more impulsive side of you thinks.

"Goodnight. To you and the lucky bear." Bela bids, her half-confident, half-amused smirk back in place.

Wait... lucky? You blush and pause for all of three seconds, that quickly prove too many when you realize the Dimitrescu daughter has already disappeared.

You're left there by your vanity feeling strange –a bit anxious, a tad giddy– and you don't want to acknowledge what it is that makes you this way.

You bring the towel-teddy in front of you and softly rub on its ears to distract yourself.

Well. At least now you've decided on a name for him.

Lucky.

[chosenimagines]

-FLIRTY-

01 Call me yours *wink*

02 You look like a cute little elve

03 Looking as good as ever

04 Did the sun just come out? I don't think I've ever seen you smile that bright

05 Did it hurt?

06 You are glowing brighter than the stars

07 I am hoping to see you soon again, Gorgeous

08 Oh damn you are looking so fine, Baby

09 My pleasure

10 How about you put your lips on mine

11 I love to see you in my clothes but I love them better on my floor

12 Now I couldn’t be more happy that I walked in without knocking

13 You have never called me that. Keep doing that!

14 Your hand fits perfectly in mine

15 Good morning, baby

16 I missed this mischievous glance

17 You owe a kiss, dear

18 What’s up, hot stuff?

19 If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up again

20 How about you go on one date with me and I make you fall in love with me

21 You shouldn’t argue with destiny, love. It wants us to be together

22 I wish I could meet you one more time for the first time so I could admire you in the right way

23 Did it hurt when you fell?

24 I am pretty sure you are the reason for global warming

25 Your beauty is distracting me

26 Hey, Lover Boy!

27 You tried to flirt with me

28 Don’t you know the language of love?

29 As always you are such a charmer

30 Your smile is gorgeous

31 I wanted to use a crappy pick up line but damn Angel you are way out of my league

32 You are worth all the trouble

33 We both know that you are in love with me

34 You are my favourite distraction

35 I noticed you staring at me, princess

36 You are very welcome to do it

37 There is only you!

38 Are you sure you want a kiss? I am not sure if you won’t fall for me again

39 That is my new favourite sound

40 You are totally flirting with me

41 Awww, I made you blush

42 Baby, the sun is nothing compared to you

43 Your hero came to save you

44 I thought I was already lost but then I looked into your eyes

45 Do you want my jacket?

46 It looks good on you

47 I love it when you are blushing

48 That lip biting is sexy

49 You owe my real date but I’ll be your fake one anytime

50 Don’t worry, I’m all yours

51 Chocolate for the sweetest girl on the universe

52 You don’t mind sharing with me, do you *wink*

53 Did you know that I love how you push back your hair?

54 I’ve never thought that I’d fall for a cute little elve *smirk*

55 Besides it looks better on you

56 Hey Gorgeous!

57 I can’t wait to show you off! You are looking stunning (insert nickname)

58 My lips hurt too

59 Maybe you want to watch a scary movie with me?

60 Your wish is my command

61 Heeeey, how you doin’?

62 The room got brighter when you entered

63 I can be your valentine

64 3… 2… 1! Happy New Year *leans in for a kiss*

65 Didn’t you see it? The sparkles between you and me

66 I want to do more than that *wink*

67 I’m heartless now, because my heart is all yours! *winks*

68 I couldn’t help but notice you when I walked in.

69 Has anyone ever told you that your eyes look like the ocean? Wild and beautiful

70 You make me feel like an artist! You are the perfect muse for my poems

71 I wish I could paint you like this, but I could never do you justice.

72 Damn, that accent though!

73 I believed that I knew what beauty looks like but damn...

74 So how do I get out of the friendzone? Should we give kissing a shot?

75 Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing.

76 My heart is racing, and I can’t tell whether it’s because I’m terrified or because I like you.

77 Trust me, you look gorgeous!

78 Did you know that your laugh is sexy?

79 It was kinda cute actually

80 This is all for you

81 Thank you for your precious smile, love

82 I don't want your body! I want to know your soul

83 Your hair is hanging in your food! *brushes it behind her/his/their ear*

84 You make me so nervous, but for some reason I still like it!

85 How about we go on a rollercoaster? The rollercoaster of emotions

86 If you’re feeling nervous, we could hold hands.

87 You like my name? You should here my phone number

88 I lost my number. Can I have yours?

89 I lost my heart. Can I have yours?

90 Hey, don’t be ashamed of being shy! It’s actually really cute!

91 Did you know I can read palms? *takes her/his/their hand and traces along the lines* I can see that you are meant to fall in love with me

92 That outfit looks great on you.

93 May I have this dance? *smirks and bows* 

94 I was more than lucky to run into you. See you around?

95 Maybe we can hang out again? *grins*

96 We work well together. *winks*

97 Has anyone ever told you how funny you are?

98 This was fun! Don’t you want this to happen again? Like tomorrow 5 o’clock

99 How about next time just the two of us hang out?

100 Aren’t you tired, sweetheart? You’ve been running through my mind a lot lately

101 You make me want to know more.

102 Just ask me out. I know you’re dying to.

103 I can’t help thinking that we look really good together.

104 Wanna go grab a drink?

105 I’ll come if you do *wink*

106 If it’s a date, then I definitely have time for it.

107 I’ll always make time for you.

108 I bet anyone would like you.

109 I know I was staring, but how can I help it. You're so gorgeous I just couldn’t look away.

110 I wish I could see you more often.

111 I thought this party would be a waste of time, but then I saw you.

112 I’m a very honest person and you are honestly the prettiest/most handsome person here.

113 You should smile more, you look lovely.

114 You should smile! Your happiness is lifesaving

115 Because of my great looks and your stunning smile and personality you should be my date to the dance

116 Are you good at ball games? Cause you really caught my eye! 

117 You, me equals a perfect match!

118 You’ve been here for how long?! I could have never forgotten someone like you

119 How about you be the Belle to my Beast?

120 Time stopped when you walked by

121 Why can’t I take my eyes off you?

122 My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met.

123 Feel my pulse. This is how my heart beats whenever I’m around you.

124 Can’t you stay a little longer? It’ll be worth your time.

125 I wanted to give you some of my sweets but I am afraid that you will get any sweeter

[limenysnocket]

Salsa Lessons

Summary: Let's take a break... to go on vacation. Since Taika is a snowflake and can't handle the cold, take a trip down south to Puerto Rico!

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Warnings: SMUT-- oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, dom Taika, a little bit of degradation, swearing, alcohol, (slight) public sex. 18+ ;)

A/N: One last baecation before I disappear again, and I know this'll be good. I KNOW THIS IS LATE. Like... late LATE. Forgive me.

@honorarytenenbaum @olyvoyl @whatwememeintheshadows @mrtommyshelby @dandywaititi

•○●•○●•○●•

"MY FACE IS ON FIRE!" Taika was panting and fanning his burning cheeks. The moms running the stand you both went to were cackling at him.

It had been a day since you both landed in Puerto Rico, and after sleeping off the jet lag and trying some of the fine dining, the first thing to do was explore the city, San Juan, from start to finish. Coincidentally, you both walked right into the outdoor market area, where fresh produce was being bought and sold everywhere. That's when Taika, the jackass, got ballsy and decided to try a pepper from one of the stands. He had been warned.

Oh well... guess you can see how that went.

To make up for the commotion caused, you bought a pineapple and a papaya from the same stand, as well as a couple of exquisitely bottled cokes. Taika was consoled, given a bit of coconut milk, and sent right back down the boardwalk. That was the first and last time he tried a freebie from a pepper stand. He was complaining about how his tongue felt (you would have thought that might make him get a little quieter and talk less), and he didn't stop until half of his bottled soda was gone. He sort of forgot about the pain after that and started looking for souvenirs.

You began your walk with him at eight in the morning, sharp. It was near noon by the time you were finished, and Taika had two big bags of fruits and veggies, exotic jewelry, tour maps, and trinkets. You were starving, and, more than once, tried to steal a kiwi from his bags but he would always manage to catch you and slap your hand away.

"They're for later!" He'd say that or make up a different excuse each time.

Taika wasn't neglectful of your hunger, in the end. He took you to a nearby restaurant after doing some searching on his phone and dropping the bags off back at the hotel room.

The restaurant was quaint, but vibrant at the same time. There were colors, dancers, and live music played on a little wooden stage just meters away. Ordering was fine, but it took some time for Taika.

"I've never seen so many things with pineapple in it! And it's not pizza, so it's bound to be good!" He seemed so excited for the food. It made you happy, but you eventually had to pick for him since the waiter was getting tired of actually having to wait.

"I have something special planned for tonight!" Taika exclaimed, the alcoholic drink of his choice being waved around in his hand. You were already reaching for the napkins, afraid he was going to spill something.

So now he tells you...

"Should I be concerned?" your first question came out with ease.

"Honey, if it's anything with me, you should always be concerned," he was smug, but the look on your face told him he needed to fix his wording. "BUT! Uhm... No, no you shouldn't be concerned about where I'm taking you. It's going to be a blast, I promise!"

"Better not be lying, Taik," you warned, and he just started to grin. That made you nervous, but you put the feeling on hold when the food came out.

Two bowls of Asopao de Pollo were placed in front of you and Taika, and they were devoured briefly in the span of thirty minutes. Extra time was added because Taika decided to add hot sauce to his. 'It's to add a kick,' he said. Yeah, whatever.

The rest of the afternoon was spent snacking, and checking out the more historical side of Puerto Rico. Abandoned forts, old canons, battle fields, you name it. It was truly a blast, even when Taika became cocky around one of the forts you visited.

It was at the Sitio Histórico de San Juan when things got... touchy. You were with a group of people, and you and Taika decided to linger around the back so if something interesting was spotted, you wouldn't have to move immediately. Little did you know, Taika was devising a, "ditch the tour guide and go make out somewhere," kind of plan.

Much to your demise, and to your pleasure, the plan worked. The tour guide hardly noticed the two of you disappear down an unknown corridor and push yourselves deep into a dark corner.

The smell was wet, ancient, and dank. Taika had you pressed up against one of the concrete walls while his hands worked their magic, lifting up the hem of your shirt and immediately grasping for your bra. You let him squeeze and grip through the fabric of it and press his body so close to yours, the waistband of his shorts was rubbing a red line across the skin of your stomach.

Your legs trembled while you completely forgot about the tour itself and your fingers started to run through his curly hair. Taika's thigh was moving to be between both of yours and he started to slowly rub the top of his against your clothed cunt. Slowly. Achingly slow.

Whimpers of his name and the sound of your tongue mixing echoed along the dank walls, and whimpers turned to moans, and moans turned into garbled sentences when his hand sunk into your underwear and sought out your clit. You tried to warn him, this was a bad idea. You could be noticed missing from the group and people could come looking for you. There could be papz right around the corner, needing a good look for a filthy headline. He didn't stop, though. He started rubbing faster, playing with you like you were some toy.

You knew he wouldn't give you anything but his fingers. Yet. Taika waited and waited, getting you closer on just clit stimulation, but just as you reached your brink, he started to pull his hand away. Dazed and confused, you looked up, your chest shaking from all the heavy breathing you had been doing. Your hands were grasping at his shirt, damn near begging to have just the tiniest bit more, but the look on his face said it all. Even through the darkness of the corridor.

"What the fuck, dude? I was so close!" You hissed at him. All he did was click his tongue and say:

"That's for later too."

The rest of the tour was dreadful to you. It was long, and hot, and dank while you found your way back to the group. Taika was nonchalantly following just a ways behind you while you consistently traveled in circles or down a corridor and through the next. As if he knew you were getting yourself lost, he eventually stepped in, and lead you back towards the entrance of the fort, where your tour group had huddled together for the last destination and for the tour guide to say goodbye. Oh well, at least you got to take in some historical views.

After one more cramped trolley ride back to the hotel later, you were utterly exhausted, but you knew your night wasn't over yet. Taika still had something planned, and it must have been on the spot this morning too. If he had planned it any further back, he would have blabbed it all out to you by now. You laid on your bed while you could, right on your stomach with your face buried into the pillow, trying to let your heavy eyes fall closed for a second, but the moment you did, you felt a large hand smack you right on the ass.

You flipped over, mad as a hornet when you looked up at Taika. You hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom.

He had dressed himself up in all black. Black button up, tucked into his black pants and pressed firm with a black belt. He looked like one of those pit musicians you'd see when you go to really good musicals with live orchestras.

"Dirty Dancing cosplay, ooor?" you nipped at him and he rolled his eyes.

"Ha ha, you're funny," the sarcasm dripped from him. He then threw a piece of (also black) clothing on. "Put that on."

The reluctance was real, but you followed his orders anyway, grumbling and griping your way through. Turns out it was a dress. A short one, at that, only going down to be just half way down your thighs, but it was comfortable enough. Luckily you had a pair of flats with a slight heel in your bag to pair with it. You had no idea where you were going with him, but you were not about to walk there in heels.

Taika was giving you "the eyes" as you walked out of the bathroom, admittedly messing with the hem of your dress to try and bring it down lower. As a result, came more cleavage that you would have liked, but oh well. At least Taika enjoyed the view.

He took the grocery bags in his hands and in the crook of his arms, and like that, it was time to go.

"We'll be late if we don't rush!" he hurried you. You knew that was just a big fat lie, and he was excited to get to wherever you were going, but you played along for as long as you could.

Taika made you go down the boardwalk again, through flourishes of people while the bags in his arms still jostled from side to side. Eventually, you stopped, just outside of a well lit building, and he took you inside.

He stepped up to a desk, signed something, and set all of the groceries down on the desk. While he did those things, you had a look around. To your left, deeper into the building and with dimmer lighting, there were tables and chairs set up. Almost all of the tables were meant for two, or for four. Before you could investigate further, Taika was back to leading you around, through a few more doors, which opened up to a big ballroom.

A few more people were waiting there, dressed almost in the same fashion as you or even a bit more flamboyantly, and obviously coupled up. Taika wrapped his arm around your waist and made you jolt.

"Care to dance?" he mused quietly and you gulped. You've got to be fucking kidding.

"You're joking," you murmured, but he wasn't, because he took you right over to the group of other couples and started conversing with them while you started to freak out quietly.

Honestly, you had never been the greatest dancer on earth. Sure, you could cut a rug from time to time, but that was in the privacy of your own home or at Taika's place if he happened to pick out a really good song worth dancing to. You knew Taika loved to see you dance, he loved to dance with you most of all, but you both never got into anything fancy.

Now was the time.

Soon, your instructors announced themselves, and the room fell mute while they introduced themselves in their very heavy Spanish accents. You stuck to Taika's side most of the time, even as the mood was set and stone. You would be learning to salsa dance. But what did this have to do with the food? You'd find out later.

To put it simply, things got... touchy. Of course, the one and only Waititi was the one touching you, wrapping his big, strong hands around your hips and making them sway back and forth, but it was personal at some point. His hips were pushed against yours most of the time, and that awakened a more primal sense.

Once the dance had been established, the lavish music and the glow of sweat and cologne heightened your senses, and the lights began to dim or flash with lavish pinks, purples, reds, yellows, and greens. You got lost in the feeling as Taika set his hands on your hips again, his warm palms making your legs ache to feel his skin touch yours. Your back was against his chest while the footwork got complicated. Focused, yet mystical.

All the couples around you, doing the same moves as you, turned to blurry blobs, and your breathing got heavier as the pace of the music piece got faster and faster. Taika's breath drew across your ear, and made you shudder. It nearly knocked you out of focus, because you bumped your hips backwards, and pushed your ass against his hips. Like a chain reaction, you felt his hands squeeze your hips a little more than he was supposed to. So, you bumped your hips back against his again, and suddenly you were whipped around by his hands, and pulled flat against his chest.

The bodies around you still writhed and moved with beauty and grace, then there was you and Taika... in the very middle of the dancefloor while a small hard on pressed against the side of your thigh. He was looking down at you, and through the darkness, just like in the corridor, you could see his expression. It was a look of want. Need.

Before anything could be done, however, the lights flashed back on, and the song had finished. Only you and Taika were out of position. The instructors paid no mind. They just clapped, as well as everyone else. Taika removed his hands from you, but made sure you were close enough to hide the little bump in his pants. You hoped there was nothing other than this, because now you really wanted to get back to the hotel room.

The couples started filing out of the room, back to where the tables and chairs were, and Taika kept you in front of him the entire time, pressed almost a little too closely to him.

"Mr. Waititi," a waitress called to him from the kitchen as you met the front desk again. "Your food has been prepared."

Taika looked at the waitress, then to you. He was debating something. You knew what, but you'd let him figure this out for himself. He was the one with the more visible problem.

"Awesome," Taika sighed, then looked down at you. "Join me for a bite real fast?" He said it through almost gritted teeth. Reluctantly... you agreed.

If it was worth it, that's for you to decide. This place had taken the groceries you bought, fruits and veggies, and made a beautiful dinner with mango kiwi sangria. With the time the lessons had taken, the chefs in the kitchen had made the perfect meal. They had even thrown in a few extra elements like chorizo and perfectly cooked rice dishes. As much as you loved the food, you couldn't forget about the need between your legs. And it was obvious Taika couldnt simply forget about his.

You would watch him squirm in his seat while he sipped on his drink, or you would find him staring at you a little more than usual, and little more intensely with each second. His eyes would gloss over, and his breathing would slow, but he'd snap out of it, only when you said something to him, or a server came out of nowhere to check on both of your meals.

Even if the dinner wasn't as romantic (although more sexually charged than you expected), you still had a fantastic time. As soon as Taika finished his dish, he paid the check and was quick to dash out the door with you at his side. Sure, you managed to have enough time to pack up what was left of your food for later, but that hardly deterred Taika's speed and agility.

The walk back to the hotel room went by faster than you thought. The crowds had started to dwindle, and lights began to dim, because all of the shops and side markets had finally closed down after a long day of work. There was just enough darkness to cover the fact that Taika had his hands all over you. All the way to your room.

The moment you touch the door handle, the frenzy began.

He closed the door with his foot, and with both hands, he grabbed your hips and slammed you against the nearest wall he could find. His lips breathed over yours, whispering dirty praises and hot needs, and his hands reached down to pull up your dress to bunch it around your waist. His hand reached between your thighs, and cupped your wet panties, just over your folds. He started to stroke it, while his lips teased over yours, never kissing you, but needing you.

His strong fingers prodded through the fabric, seeking and searching like he had done with you in the corridor of the filthy base. Filthy actions in filthy places.

You moaned for him, but he seemed busy. He continued to bunch up your dress until your stomach was exposed to him. His parched lips drug themselves down your collarbone, again, avoiding your lips, while your hand shot up into his curly hair.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, opening his dirty mouth just to use his teeth on you. He bit down on your skin, making a hiss seethe from you through your clenched jaw. "You're so fucking beautiful... making my dick so fucking hard."

You watched him kneel, the position making his pants crumple up, but the bulge in his black pants remained as prominent as ever. His nose brushed over your stomach, and you could feel his tongue prop out softly and hover over the hem of your underwear, just as well as his teeth hooking into them. Your thighs spread on their own, and he started to pull your underwear downwards.

He could see the glisten on your clit and the need drip down your thighs. His tongue poked out again, and you felt it slide across your inner thigh. It crept higher and higher,

He placed sloppy kisses along the soft flesh. The kind of kiss that you could hear. The smack and the pop from the wetness and eagerness to taste more of you and take more of you in. He needed that, and he only got more of it as he neared your core.

"Such a wet fuckin pussy, baby," he groaned and placed his tongue along the lips of your folds. His tongue drug itself along the slit, and dipped in to be right on your aching clit. He swiped his tongue back down, pushing it along your hole. Your legs began to tremble, and he began to dig in like the meal you had gotten at the restaurant only whet his appetite.

He took you seriously this time. The rough pads of his finger nimbly drifting along your hips, tracing every mark, every bump, and every hair, because he wanted to memorize this feeling. He also wanted you to remember these exact moments, when he ate your pussy out on the exotic islands of Puerto Rico.

You gripped his hair so tight, but that only pushed him further into your cunt. His nose swiped along, to add flavor to the sensation. His face, most certainly, would be dripping with you by the end of the night.

How long this went on for? You didn't know. You also didn't know it his goal was to disturb your neighbors, because you got pretty fucking for him at some point. He didn't stop until he was satisfied, and you didn't bother keeping track of how many times you had cum on his tongue. You knew he loved the taste. He loved your taste.

Eventually, you both made it back to the bed for once, after one or two earth shattering orgasms. Thighs shaking, breaths colliding, and tongues twisting. His lips touched yours and your mouth was immediately drenched in your own taste, mixed with his.

He got you out of your dress. You stripped him of his clothes. Skin met skin, and it was an instantaneous bon fire of pure, raw sex.

His hand met your throat and he pushed you against the bed while he sat between your legs, unconsciously rubbing his dick through your folds. His lips were on yours again, and he gave your throat a gentle squeeze from time to time.

"Fuck, Taik, just put it in me," you breathed desperately, and the air grew thick. Your eyes never met his. You just watched the way his hips rolled into you, and took the time to feel his scratchy hair rub against your belly each time. You were addicted.

"You're so soft..." His large hands trailed down your stomach, "I'd rather just play with you and see what would happen if I teased you some more." His snickering and plotting drew a whine from you. It sounded so pitiful, he knew you were on the edge already.

"Aw, pretty girl?" He clicked his tongue in a fake sympathetic way, "You don't like to play games, do you? That's such a shame... I thought fuck dolls loved to be played with."

"Taika," you whined again, and you started to wriggle beneath him.

Taika didn't usually mind it when you wiggled about, but something about tonight, it really pissed him off a small bit.

"You want it?" He hissed. "Fucking fine."

You nearly screamed so loud, the hotel walls would have shook, but he shoved himself in, with hardly any warning, and slapped a hand over your mouth.

"You're such a loudmouth... just shut up and take it," he muttered by your ear, and his hips wasted no time making a fool out of you. While one of his hands stayed over your mouth, the other was planted by your head, almost threateningly, and he gripped the bedsheets. If you had just turned your head a little bit, you would have seen the veins popping on his wrist.

Taika pressed his thumb right on the high of your cheekbone, keeping your mouth clamped shut harder as he lost himself in you. Fuck it, you were gone too. High as a kite as he pummeled you and fucked you up something awful.

He was making your sore already, with the intense clap of his hips that never seemed to slow. He was persistent. He was determined.

You let yourself cum for him way too many times that night, and he knew it. He would watch your eyes roll back, and the way your body would weakly tense each time, like you were recieving an electric shock to the brain. And he kept going. He kept going for a long time.

You just let him use you as the night went on, and the look of satisfaction grew more intensely each time you spilled over. It went on and on and on... until he suddenly just couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh my God," he panted, finally letting you speak out and be more vocal, but he had knocked all the breath from your lungs, so there was nothing you could say. "You're so fucking tight... so fuckin pretty, holy shit."

Taika's head rocked back and his eyes watched the ceiling. Shit. He was starting to give out. Shit, shit, shit.

He hunched back over, his thrusts becoming uneven with the ache of anxiousness and lust. It was a blissful, awful, horrible mix. Taika fucking loved it.

A grunt, a groan, and a brand new hickey to get him through it. He finally gave in, burying his face in the same shoulder he marked you on, kissing, lapping and nipping at your skin, as he came, and filled you up.

His body shook and quivered like an earthquake, and soon he felt much heavier on you. Exhaustion kicked in, and you felt like falling asleep right then and there.

You managed a hand to rub up and down his back, comfortingly, and he would let out the occasional groan in response.

"Do you have any more surprises I should be aware of?" you asked, voice hoarse and very very quiet.

"I might," Taika asked after a long pause of silence. "But those are for later..."

[viviennexdumont]

Five hottest guys around?

“Hard one, considering they’re all like walking Abercrombie models, but here goes…

@chasehastings

@coltondeforest

@isaacbyrne

@dashhastings

@loganxhastings

…damn those Hastings boys have hot in their genes.”

[laurenairay]

Unexpected - K. Hayes

Summary: After being just friends with Kevin for over four years, can you ever be anything more?

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: a little angst, a lot of fluff, a smidgen of smut, friends to lovers because that’s my jam

A/N: so this originally started as a blurb which got mildly out of hand and turned into this fic. I have repeated the scene from the blurb to keep the flow the same. I have no regrets. 

This is particularly inspired from Talk About by Seaforth (thanks @antoineroussel!) and Just Friends by Virginia to Vegas (thanks @broadstbroskis!)

@danglesnipecelly @princessphilly @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @himbos-on-ice @whoeverineedtobe @flybabyfly @ipuckwithhockey @antoineroussel @babytkachuks @broadstbroskis @texanstarslove @tippedbykreider @thebookofmags @horsesandhockeyplayers @denis-scorianov @lulucanwrite @rangersftflyers @notaccurateornice @pandorasbox2020 @mattytkachuk19 @whatishockey​ @no-pucks-given​ @fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan​ @troubatrain @joelsfarabee @nuenyyx @miracleonice87

*

A party was never just a simple party when Kevin Hayes was involved. Music was pounding, beer was flowing, shots were poured, and weed was an easy haze on the back porch. You had no idea what the occasion was for one of your oldest friends to be throwing this shindig, but you weren’t complaining. Hanging out with him and relaxing after a long hard day was infinitely better than sitting at home and eating cold pizza. Again.

People always teased you about being so close with Kevin, always hinting that there must be something more between you, but you just laughed it off, knowing that he would never be interested. How could he? He had the perfect hockey WAGs lining up in queues to flirt with him – and you were just his friend. You’d known each other since you both lived in Tribeca years ago, and there had never been anything to even hint at anything more than friends. He’d never flirted with you outside of his natural charm. He’d never made a move on you in the slightest. He’d never shown the smallest bit of interest in anything other than platonic – so you knew how he felt. And to be honest, his friendship was amazing and it was something you never wanted to lose, so why would you put yourself out there when you already knew what the answer would be?

No, being friends with Kevin Hayes was exactly where you were meant to be.

You’d spent a few hours with a rotating cast of Flyers and their better halves, drinking and sharing stories about your mutual friend, but it had been a while since you’d seen him. At least a couple of non-Kevin hours. So what if you got a little needy when you were drinking? How could you not want a hug from your beautiful friend? No, bad drunk brain. Crossing that line was never worth it.

You still wanted that hug though.

So bidding the other drunk partygoers adieu, you wandered about the house in search of Kevin, coming up empty in every room…until you spotted smoke outside the kitchen window. Hah, of course. You knew how much he loved to wind down with a blunt or two. His easygoing nature was one of the things you loved most about him.

Putting down your empty drink, you walked outside, spotting Kevin and Nolan lounging on the outside sofas, Nolan with a blunt in his hand.

“Hey! You’re here!” Kevin grinned.

You shook your head fondly, wafting the pungent smoke out of your face.

“I’ve been here for hours, Kev. You’ve already seen me,” you said, smiling.

Kevin pouted, and Nolan just snickered, making you laugh.

“Weed always makes you forgetful,” you mused, sitting down on the seating next to him.

“Nuh-uh I don’t forget everything,” Kevin shrugged, turning to face you properly, “Not the important things. Like the fact that I love you, you know that right?”

Your jaw dropped slightly as his words hit you. What the everloving fuck? Why would he joke like that?

“Goddamn Kev, how high are you?” you asked, frowning.

Without waiting for him to answer, you looked over at Nolan, who just shrugged.

“I don’t know, he’s pretty baked. But I’m going to let you deal with all of that,” Nolan grimaced, waving a hand in Kevin’s general direction.

You rolled your eyes as he quickly passed Kevin the blunt and walked back inside. Yeah, thanks for the help.

“Why did Patty leave?” Kevin asked, frowning.

“Because he’s allergic to emotions? I don’t know. Maybe he just knows that you’re talking shit and he doesn’t want to deal with it,” you muttered.

“I’m not talking shit,” Kevin shot back, “I love you,”

“No you don’t,” you said, rolling your eyes again.

Seriously? Where had this come from? This wasn’t fair, he couldn’t say that when you knew it wasn’t true. Where had he gotten this lot of weed from? Clearly it didn’t agree with him.

“Yes I do! I know my own feelings,” Kevin insisted.

“Right, yeah, sure you do,” you sighed.

You were neither drunk enough nor high enough for this conversation. This was…not how you expected this evening to go. And just like that, your good mood was ruined.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Kevin asked softly.

“Not even in the slightest, Kev,” you said, smiling sadly.

Of course you didn’t. Why, after all this time, would he be saying the words you most wanted to hear from him? There was no logic behind it – there was no way it could be true. He’d never ever shown any hint of this to be true.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he said firmly.

And then he placed his hand on your thigh, making you inhale sharply, the warmth of his large hand sending tingles through your body. No.

“This is not the time or place, Kevin,” you said shortly, “You are stoned out of your fucking mind,”

“You said my full name. You never say my full name,” he said sadly.

Of course that’s what he picked up out of that. Clearly he wasn’t going to get any easier to talk to…and while normally that made for some pretty fun conversation, tonight it wasn’t going to happen. And you couldn’t sit around and listen to more of this.

“I’m just going to go,” you sighed, nudging his hand off your thigh and standing upright.

“What? No!” Kevin said, eyes wide and sad.

“I can’t,” you said, forcing a smile, “I can’t stay and hear this, when I know you don’t mean it when you’re sober,”

“But…”

“I’ll send Nolan back out, okay? I’ll…talk to you later, Kev,” you said firmly, interrupting him.

Without waiting for another answer, you quickly walked back into the house, heartbeat racing in your ears and a lump in your throat. At least you didn’t have to go far to look for Nolan – he was standing just inside in the kitchen.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he frowned.

You just shook your head, smiling thinly, not wanting to go into it. “I’m going to go,”

“But he…”

“Kev will be fine – you don’t mind going back out there with him, right?” you said, interrupting.

Nolan pressed his lips together but shook his head. “No, I don’t mind,”

“Good. Good. Um, I’m sure I’ll see you around?” you offered.

Would you? Who knows. How long would you even need before you could see Kevin again without your heart aching?

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Nolan nodded.

You missed the determined look in the younger man’s eyes as you walked away, too intent on locating your jacket without giving in to the tears that were threatening to fall. Sleep, sobering up and some distance – that would help, right?

*

01:21

From: Kevin

Why did you leave?

Please come back?

~

01:57

From: Kevin

I meant it.

I swear I meant it.

Please call me.

~

03:00

Missed call – Kevin

~

10:17

From: Kevin

Fuck I fell asleep.

Are you ignoring me?

Please call me when you get this.

~

10:35

From: Kevin

I get it if you don’t love me back.

But please don’t ignore me, I can’t take that.

Please call me?

We need to talk. Please.

~

10:55

From: Kevin

Please?

~

11:00

To: Kevin

Kev, I can’t do this.

It’s too much.

Please just give me time and space.

~

11:02

From: Nolan

I’ve taken Kev’s phone off him.

His sad face is too much.

I know you asked for space and I’ll make sure he gives it to you.

But please, just think over what he said?

You know he doesn’t say shit he doesn’t mean, not when it’s important.

~

11:17

To: Nolan

Yeah, okay. I’ll think it over.

*

Mornings were generally your worst time of day. But this morning in particular was a terrible one. The slight bleurgh of lingering sleep made you feel groggy enough, but nothing that a quick shower and a slice of buttered toast couldn’t fix. No, this morning was terrible because your heart was still aching from three days ago. You still had no idea what Kevin was playing at, acting like that around you, but it hurt and you knew you weren’t going to be able to forget it any time soon. Kevin’s increasingly desperate text messages and the single message from Nolan hung over you like a bad shadow, but you knew were right about not just giving in straight away – you were still emotional enough now as it was, and you knew it wouldn’t have been a good idea to see Kevin immediately. No, space was exactly what you needed, even if it hurt.

Your second cup of coffee woke you up enough at least to not leave you in a pit of despair. Like Nolan had asked, you’d thought about Kevin’s words over and over again. His declaration of love, out of nowhere. His confusion and sadness and fucking desperation. You know he doesn’t say shit he doesn’t mean, not when it’s important. It still didn’t give you the answer, any answer. Because in your heart, there was still that little whisper of doubt, telling you it wasn’t true, not really. And unless you were 100% sure, there was no way you could take that chance, not with Kevin. His friendship was too important in your life to risk not having it at all, so if it meant needing time to get over him and drag yourself out of this swirling despair then you would take it.

Despair was for people who didn’t have a life to get on with. You had lived long enough without Kevin in your life before you’d met him, and you could damn well succeed in living without his presence for a couple of weeks or so. At least until you’d built up those walls again.

It had been three days and the struggle was real.

Around 9am, you were jolted out of your thoughts by a series of knocks on your front door. With a frown, you walked over to the entrance hallway, and peeked through the peep-hole, only to see Kevin. What the fuck? Why was he here?

He had a sad but determined look on this face, you could see that much – fuck, was he going to say he didn’t mean anything he said that night? That now he’d thought about it properly, it wasn’t real? It was bad enough hearing his emotions from him when high as a kite, but you couldn’t bear for him to admit it was fake when he was sober. But maybe it was what you deserved, seeing as you’d asked for time and space. Fuck. No, you’d definitely done the right thing for you…but had you done the right thing for Kevin?

What you did know for sure was that you couldn’t leave him standing outside, when he knew full well that you had no real plans today. He knew your schedule too well for that. So with a deep breath, you put on a smile and opened the door. There he stood, eyes warm albeit sleepy, that hair so perfectly tousled. Why did he have to hit every single tickbox on your list? How was that fair?

“Look who’s up before midday on an off-day,” you teased, “What are you doing here?”

Kevin smiled at your teasing, but it was as fake as you knew your smile was. Fuck. “I was in the neighbourhood and figured I’d see what you were up to. Mind if I come in?”

Ouch. He definitely wasn’t in the neighbourhood, he was here for one reason only. To talk. Fuck.

But you nodded, letting him past you into your apartment anyway. He’d given you three days’ space, like you’d asked, it was only fair that you let him say his piece now right?

“Coffee?” you asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Yes please,” Kevin groaned, nodding.

Your smile slipped a little as you headed to the kitchen, you heart already aching with the preparation of it being broken completely, but you managed to keep yourself together as you reached for the coffee pot, pouring him a large mug of the caffeinated lifeblood in silence.

“Here you go,” you said as cheerfully as you could manage.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling.

He sat down at the kitchen island, looking up at you with those beautiful big eyes, until you sat down opposite him.

“I still mean it, y’know,” he said bluntly.

You frowned, not understanding. “Mean what?”

“Mean what I said that night. That I love you,”

Oh God. Fuck. Your breath hitched in your throat, your lips parting in surprise. What…what was he doing?

“Kev, please don’t…”

“No, I’m going to,” Kevin interrupted, uncharacteristically solemn, “Because you seem to have some pretty incorrect ideas in your head and I need to set them straight,”

You swallowed heavily, biting your bottom lip. How were you even supposed to respond to that? Kevin saw the anxious look on your face clear as day, his own seriousness softening to a sad smile.

“Patty said you looked pretty upset when you left that night,” he said softly.

You shook your head, desperate for a sliver of control. “I wasn’t upset, I-”

“Even if he hadn’t spent the last three days ripping into me, I know you were upset. You’ve never just left like that,” Kevin said firmly.

Normally, you hated being interrupted. But in this case, you really had nothing else you could say. Nothing that you could say, not when he knew you so well.

“No, I haven’t,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“I’m sorry that me confessing how I felt made you leave but I wasn’t messing around! I was trying gather the high courage to tell you, after all this time!” Kevin said desperately.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

He was serious, wasn’t he? Of course he had to bulldoze right through, in typical Kevin Hayes style.

But Kevin took your silence the wrong way.

“How could you not have known?” he frowned.

“How could I possibly have known, Kev? I’ve seen you flirting with women before – and you’re never like that around me. How could I have known that you wanted anything more than friendship when you’ve never acted like it?” you retorted.

Kevin’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head briefly, before he looked back up at you. Fuck, he looked a little sad? Like...like he was about to genuinely open up his heart. Fuck.

“I always thought you weren’t interested in me. Why would you be interested in dumb stoner Kevin? I figured if I could only ever have you as a friend then I would latch onto that, because having you in my life in any way is so much better than not having you in my life at all,” he said sadly.

You had never heard him this eloquent before. To be honest, it made your heart ache all over again. But he was never like this…why now?

“Are you still high?” you asked, frowning.

Kevin laughed dryly, shaking his head. “Why do I have to be high to tell you how I feel?”

“Because that’s literally the only time you’ve ever said it before?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Kevin groaned softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“You know meaningful stuff doesn’t come all that easily to me,” he huffed.

“I also know you’re not just Kevin-the-hockey-playing-himbo-from-Boston,” you pointed out, smiling slightly.

Kevin laughed softly. “You always have figured me out pretty well,”

“I’m just not a mind reader,” you mused.

He laughed again, nodding his head. “I guess I just…I saw you and I had to say it. I’ve liked you for years, sweetheart, ever since we lived in Tribeca. And I thought, maybe, just maybe, you getting your job transferred to Philly meant that it was finally our time. But it never happened. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the weed and how beautiful you looked combined that actually took down those barriers which have kept me from blurting out my feelings in the past. But I swear to you, I meant every word,”

Sweetheart. Wow. Never had that word affected you more. You swallowed heavily, looking down at your hands. It was true that you’d always been able to read him well – and he was being so sincere right now that it had your stomach tied in knots. He really meant it, didn’t he? He really meant…that he loves you. That he’s loved you for years. Fuck.

It was everything you’d hoped to hear, and you’d spent the last three days trying to convince yourself he didn’t mean it. But he really did mean it, didn’t he?

“Say it again,” you murmured.

The grin that spread across Kevin’s lips sent a shiver up your spine.

“I love you,” he said clearly, firmly, looking directly into your eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat, butterflies exploding in your stomach. Fuck that was so good to hear. Holy fucking shit.

“Kevin…” you whispered helplessly.

“I gotta know…because I’m holding onto a scrap of hope that you feel the same…do you…”

He trailed off, his voice a little desperate, a little lost, and you found yourself nodding like an idiot, tears springing to your eyes. If he could be brave, then so could you.

“Yes, Kev, I do. I love you so much,” you admitted.

Kevin laughed in triumph, a little incredulous, and he quickly stood up from the island, taking one large step towards you, and tugging you to stand up on your feet too.

“Fuck, fuck, can I kiss you?” he asked, happiness sparkling in his eyes.

You found yourself laughing, but nodded and clutched at his sweater, holding on in case your weak knees gave out on you. Kevin grinned, resting his forehead against yours briefly, before he closed the distance between you with a firm kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into his arms, kissing him back just as eagerly, throwing your arms around his neck a little desperately as his tongue slid against yours. His hands went to your hips and he easily picked you up to place you on the kitchen counter, and you gasped into his mouth at how effortless the motion was, moaning a little as he just stepped right in between your legs. It felt like second nature to hook your legs around his waist, pulling your bodies even closer together, earning a soft moan from the man that sent a pulse of heat right between your thighs. Fuck.

“Kev, wait, we shouldn’t…” you gasped, tilting your head back to break the kiss.

Because as much as you wanted to hop right into bed with him, you needed to let him know that this wasn’t all this was for you. It couldn’t be.

“Fuck, you gotta know this is more than sex for me, right?” Kevin groaned, eyes a little wild as he looked down at you.

How did he always know what to say?

“Again, I’m not a mind reader,” you laughed.

Kevin laughed as well, ducking his head to press gentle kisses into the soft skin of your neck.

“I want to take you out on so many dates. I want to tell my mom about you properly rather than just mention you in passing. I want to ignore Patty crowing in the locker room that he gave me the kick up the ass that I needed. I want to tell Brady and Jimmy that I finally took a chance. I want to show you off to the world as my girlfriend,” Kevin murmured between kisses, finishing with a nip to your earlobe.

Fuck. That was all that you wanted, and he was offering it up on a silver platter.

“I want that too,” you gasped, tilting your head more to the side.

You felt Kevin smile against your skin, nipping at you again before he lifted his head to look at you properly.

“Now can I kiss you again?” Kevin asked hopefully.

You laughed but nodded, threading your fingers through his messy curls. “You can kiss me any time you want,”

Kevin grinned and did just that.

*

Pulling into the practice arena, Kevin realised he still had a stupid smile on his face. He’d spent all morning at your apartment, mostly making out on the sofa with a little talking dotted throughout, and he’d only been able to tear himself away because Nolan had texted to remind him about the mandatory afternoon practice today. Obviously he would much rather have stayed with you, especially now that he knew what it was like to kiss you, how your lips felt against his, how easy it was to hold you in his arms, but if he skipped practice there would be hell to pay.

That, and he now knew how easily he could get carried away, how easily he could get lost in you. He hadn’t lied when he said that this was more than sex for him. Loving you was everything – overwhelming, all-consuming and wonderful – and there was no way he was going to let sex ruin that. As much as he already knew it would be incredible. He’d waited four years to be in your bed more than platonically, he could wait a little longer. Especially now that he knew you loved him too.

Fuck, you were finally his. He could finally call you his girlfriend. Fuck.

Kevin was so lost in his thoughts as he parked his car, that he didn’t notice a familiar figure walking up to him, and flinched as they knocked on the window. Nolan. Fuck.

“Way to give me a heart attack, baby cat,” Kevin groaned as he got out of the car.

“You made me catch a lift with Teeks last minute – now we’re even,” Nolan smirked.

Kevin just laughed, rolling his eyes as he pulled his bag out of his car and locked it. When he turned back to look at his friend, he saw that Nolan looked incredibly smug, almost unbearably so, and steeled himself for an interrogation. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming in his text earlier to say that Nolan would have to find his own way to practice. Oops.

“Please tell me you came from your New York girl’s place,”

Hah, your New York girl. When you’d first moved job to Philadelphia, Kevin had referred to you as ‘a girl friend from New York’, to try to play it cool, to try to hide how excited he was that you were finally going to be reunited…and the name had stuck. Pretty much everyone on the team, including some who’d been traded away, referred to you as ‘your New York girl’, mainly because of how red Kevin had blushed when Claude had called you that when you’d first met the team.

The team liked teasing their usually-unflappable teammate.

You liked that Kevin talked about you in the first place.

Kevin just liked that people had always called you his.

“Yeah, I did,” Kevin shrugged, trying to play it cool.

But Nolan just rolled his eyes, not having any of it.

“You two talked right? Like, actually talked,” Nolan asked firmly.

That and other things. But Nolan didn’t need to know that. Kevin just smirked, nodding, and laughed as Nolan whooped.

“I swear to god I’m not getting those three days back, you owe me so bad. And I’m claiming victory for this matchmaking,” Nolan grinned.

“Meddling more like it,” Kevin mused, rolling his eyes, “You got the result you wanted though,”

“I did?”

“You did,”

“Fucking finally,” Nolan groaned.

“Finally what?”

Kevin turned his head to see Claude walking up behind them and winced. If Nolan kept his mouth shut then maybe Kevin had a chance of not being ridiculed for the entirety of practice…

“Hayesy ditched me to finally talk about his feelings,” Nolan smirked.

Oof.

“With your New York girl? Fucking finally,” Claude grinned.

One day that nickname would fade. One day.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Better late than never,” Kevin mused.

“Only took you a few years,” Nolan snorted.

Four long miserable years. But who was counting.

“Well I’m glad you finally took a chance. Fuck knows it’s been painful enough watching the two of you dance around each other,” Claude teased, before his face suddenly went serious, “She returned your feelings, right? Like, fuck-”

“She did,” Kevin said, interrupting, “She loves me too,”

Saying it out loud like that made him grin, earning laughter from his two teammates.

“Thank fuck for that,” Claude huffed, teasing with a grin of his own.

Thank fuck indeed.

*

From: Kevin

Dinner at mine tonight?

I’ve got that wine you like…

~

To: Kevin

You had me at wine.

What time do you want me?

~

From: Kevin

I always want you.

I’ll have food ready for 7pm.

But come over whenever!

~

To: Kevin

You ridiculous flirt.

Can’t wait to see you.

~

Kevin’s messages kept a smile on your face for the rest of your work day, and you didn’t bother going back to your apartment after work – heading straight to his place was all you could think about, so that’s all that you did. And the smile that he greeted you with when he opened the door – bright, genuine, happy – told you that you’d made the right decision.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Kevin murmured, tugging you against his body.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hold as he shut the door behind you. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned.

Kevin grinned back. “Good to know,”

You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his in a soft kiss, smiling at the happy noise he made as you embraced sweetly, your arms sliding up his chest and around his neck. Fuck, even just knowing that you could do this now, kiss him whenever you wanted, sent a shiver up your spine, let alone how good it felt to brush your tongue against his. It was like the floodgates had opened – now that you could kiss him, touch him, hold him, you never wanted to stop. You took every opportunity, and Kevin was exactly the same – maybe even more so, with the way his hands always seemed to stray to your ass.

The kisses eventually slowed to a few gentle pecks, Kevin looking a little stunned even as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Hi,” you murmured.

“Hi,” he said back, a little helplessly.

Both of you laughed, Kevin resting his forehead against yours briefly before he stepped backwards a little, taking both of your hands with his.

“I gotta finish up some dinner prep, but I can pour you a glass of wine while you wait?” he suggested.

Sweet, thoughtful man.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you nodded, squeezing his hands in agreement.

Dinner was perfect. Wonderful. Incredible. It was only a simple pasta dish, but full of vegetables and spices and flavour, and the fact that Kevin had clearly poured time and effort into making this for the two of you made it even more special. Sitting across from him at the dinner table, each talking about your days, Kevin making your sides ache with laughter…it was all you could ever have dreamed of.

Was it all too good to be true?

That niggling thought followed you to the sofa after you’d finished eating, Kevin joining you with two fresh glasses of wine. He spotted your creased forehead and frown immediately, like you feared knew he would.

“What’s that face for?” Kevin mused, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes it was a blessing how easily he could read you. But you weren’t sure if now was one of those times. As his smile started to slip, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. There was no point in hiding your thoughts from him. Honesty and communication were a good thing, right?

“I guess I’m just nervous, that’s all,” you admitted.

Kevin frowned to match you, his eyes immediately going serious. “Nervous? Why?”

“Things are just different now. You know that,”

Kevin’s frown immediately shifted to a smile, making your heart beat a little faster. His faith in you was mindblowing. “It’s just you and me, how it’s always been. How it always should be. Nothing’s different about that,”

But still you shook your head, smiling fondly. “I know you as Kevin-the-friend. I don’t know you as Kevin-the-boyfriend. It’s whole new territory…and I have a horrible thought in my mind saying that it’s all too good to be true,”

Kevin’s face fell again at your words, and he quickly put his wine glass on the coffee table, shaking his head as he reached out to take one of your hands in his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the emotion in his eyes, like it genuinely hurt him to hear the words that came out of your mouth, and you put your own glass down on the floor with a wince.

“Are you��having second thoughts? About…us?” he said quietly, like the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You quickly shook your head – you knew that wasn’t it. Not even close. But still…

“What is it then?” Kevin asked, confused.

Here goes nothing. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, us being together. Like I’m going to wake up and you’re going to want to only be just friends. It scares me,”

“Shit,” Kevin groaned, eyes closing briefly.

When his eyes reopened his eyes to look at you once more, the fire in his expression startled you…but also made your mouth go dry. That intensity was a good look on him, one you hadn’t seen directed your way before. Fuck.

“Sweetheart, I can’t predict the future. Hell, I can barely figure out what to make for breakfast, let alone where our relationship is going to go. But I do know one thing for certain,” he said firmly.

You swallowed heavily, letting out a shaky breath. “And what’s that?”

“That I want us to have a future. That I am all in. I’m putting my whole heart into this baby, and I just wish I knew what to do so you would believe me,”

Fuck, you did believe him. You absolutely did believe him. How could you not, when you could feel his heart so strongly?

“Kev, I…” you trailed off, a little helpless, not sure where to start.

“What can I do?” he asked, eyes a little desperate.

“I don’t know! I wish I knew. I want this to work so badly,” you murmured.

“All we can do is put the hard work in, right?” he said firmly, eyes bright and shining, “Like, if we both try with our whole hearts, then it’s got to be worth it, right? We’ve been friends for years – that isn’t going to change. We have that foundation already. Now we’re just taking that next step, learning more about each other, rather than starting something scary from scratch,”

Your eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words, and you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself.

“It’s still scary…but it could be scarier,” you agreed, biting your bottom lip.

Kevin nodded, smiling encouragingly, to which you let out a shaky breath.

“And no matter what, we’re in this together, yeah? We’ve got each other, more so than ever before,” he said softly.

Your eyes dropped to where his thumb ran back and forth over your hand, a small smile spreading across your lips. “I like the sound of that,”

Kevin’s shoulders seemed to relax a little, like he was letting out tension, sending a guilty pang through your body. Fuck, there you go, making him feel bad again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, shrinking back a little.

“Hey, no, no apologies. I’m glad you told me,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’d rather we talked about stuff like this than let it build up to something ugly, y’know?”

He had a good point – you couldn’t imagine having a nasty all-out fight with Kevin, and you didn’t want to. He was one of your oldest friends for a reason, and you didn’t want to lose that through a stupid fight, no way.

“Same goes for you too, yeah? You can…should talk to me about anything that worries you,” you said softly.

Kevin smiled, nodding. “Alright, it’s a deal,”

He reached out to pick up his wine glass from the table, holding it towards you in a ‘cheers’ motion, making you laugh. But you picked up your glass from the floor anyway, and clinked it with his, both of you taking a long drink. Kevin was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, before he quirked a smile your way.

“Let me take you out, show you what Kevin-the-boyfriend is like,” he suggested, “Let me show you that this new thing between us is going to be something amazing,”

How could you say no to that?

“I’d like that,” you grinned, relaxing into the sofa a bit more, “I already know I love Kevin-the-friend…so I think I need to meet Kevin-the-boyfriend properly,”

And as stupid as it felt saying those words out loud, you knew you were right – you needed to see this next stage in your relationship clearly, to banish away those niggling doubts. It was still Kevin, right? Just…more.

Kevin stretched his leg out onto the sofa, nudging your hip with his foot with a big smile on his face, nudging nudging nudging until you gripped his ankle tightly with your free hand, raising an eyebrow. All you got in return was his eyebrows wiggling at you, a stupid grin on his face.

“This is going to be great, you’ll see,” Kevin said cheerfully.

You were counting on it.

*

A first date was always something to be nervous about, right? Shaky hands, pounding heart, butterflies in the stomach, sweaty palms…it was all natural, right? Because you were experiencing all of these things while you got ready for your date with Kevin.

But was it truly nerves? You weren’t nervous as in apprehensive. No, not at all. Any time you spent with Kevin was always full of warmth and laughter, even when you were just friends, and you knew that tonight would be so different. No, it was nervous as in excited. Nervous butterflies? Shaky giddiness? Whatever it was, it was more than a little overwhelming, but it only took one glance at the last text Kevin sent you to keep a smile on your face.

~

From: Kevin

I can’t wait to see you, beautiful 💖

~

Simple, but effective. He always knew what to do and say, even when he didn’t know he was doing it. So instead of getting cold feet or freaking out, all you did was put on your favourite playlist and bop around while you got yourself ready. You’d already gotten your usual leg and bikini wax this morning, having planned to wear a slinky black dress with bare legs, and as soon as you shimmied into the dress you knew it was the right choice. Figure hugging without being clingy, sexy as well as classy – a little black dress is a classic for a reason. After putting on a little makeup and a pair of your favourite heels, you were ready.

Kevin had insisted on picking you up so he could drive the two of you to the restaurant, rather than meeting there, and he arrived to yours right on time. But as you opened the front door of your apartment to greet him, his face was a little stunned, and he was uncharacteristically silent. Huh.

“Everything okay, Kev?” you asked hesitantly.

He quickly nodded, the stunned look on his face slipping into a wide smile.

“You just look so beautiful. Caught me off guard,” he shrugged.

You felt your cheeks heat up with warmth, and you batted your hand at his chest, making him laugh. Ridiculous man.

“Well, you scrub up pretty well yourself,” you teased.

A crisp white button-up shirt, a nice fitted pair of jeans and tailored jacket? Such a good look on him. Kevin just grinned at your words, ducking his head to kiss you softly, making your breath hitch in your throat. Yeah, this was going to be a good night.

“Ready to go?” he asked, as he broke the embrace.

“Yeah, let me just grab a jacket,”

The drive to the restaurant was short and smooth – a Spanish tapas place, on recommendation from Claude – and you were shown to your table immediately, Kevin pulling out your chair for you with a bright smile on his face.

“Welcome! Here are your menus – would you like to see the drinks menu too, or do you know what you would like?”

You looked from the waiter to Kevin with a shrug, to see him looking at you with a hopeful smile. Huh. He already planned this out, didn’t he? So you just nodded at him and smiled back.

“Can we have a glass of Rosado each?” Kevin asked, smiling effortlessly.

“Of course, I will be back momentarily,”

As the waiter walked away, you raised an eyebrow at Kevin, who just shrugged a little bashfully.

“I never have any clue which wine goes with what. So I asked Claude when he recommended this place – a few of the guys around us chimed in with their thoughts too, and apparently Rosado goes with tomato-y garlic-y things. I figured that’s the majority of what we’d be eating, so I hope that’s okay” Kevin explained.

The fact that he had put so much thought into tonight, asking his friends and really researching, made your heart clench, and it was all you could do to nod. He really was so sweet – no-one had ever put in this much effort for you before.

A silence fell over you for a moment, not awkward, but still not fully comfortable, until you looked at Kevin and the both of you huffed out a laugh.

“This is weird, right?” you giggled.

“Nah, not if we don’t let it be,” he shrugged, smiling.

His ease and nonchalance was something to be jealous of, that much was true.

“So confident, Mr Hayes,” you mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Easy to be confident when I’ve got the most beautiful person in the room sitting opposite me,” he replied smoothly.

Oh so smooth.

“Kev…” you groaned, hiding your face with a hand.

“Come on, I’ve been wanting to say these things for years! Indulge me,” he teased.

Years. The very thought of it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You think I haven’t had my moments of weakness? Where I’ve thought about us over the years?” you asked simply, raising an eyebrow as you lowered your hand back into your lap.

Kevin inhaled sharply, making you smile. Good.

“I like that you have. Thought about us, I mean. I just can’t believe how stupid we’ve been. We’ve wasted so much time,” Kevin sighed.

You reached across the table, resting your hand on top of his with a smile. “We’re here now, right? That’s all that matters,”

“Yeah exactly,” he nodded.

Then he bit his bottom lip, as if he was hesitating on something, making you smile a little more.

“What is it, Kev?” you asked softly.

He stayed silent for another beat or two, before he looked at you intensely.

“I see my future with you, sweetheart,” he blurted. Oh wow. “And yeah, maybe that’s too soon to say, but this isn’t some brand new fresh thing – this has been building for years, and now that we’re finally together, it just feels so right, y’know?”

Your heart clenched at his sweet words, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Fuck. Who knew a hockey player could be so open and in touch with their feelings? Well, it was Kevin after all. Might as well speak your own thoughts too.

“It does feel so right. I’ve never felt anything for anyone like I feel for you,” you admitted.

Kevin’s answering smile was a little stunned and a little helpless. “Fuck, same. Same for me,”

You ignored the butterflies filling your stomach, looking down at the menu in front of you to stop your smile going stupid. What was it about this man that made you feel so different? His honesty? His smile? His laugh? Fuck, all of that and more. All you did know was that you didn’t want it to stop.

The date continued on to become the best date you had ever been on. Not that you were surprised – it was Kevin after all, and you already knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do if it would make you smile. And you were quickly learning how true it was for you too. Having all that adoration, that attention, that smile focused solely on you? It was addictive, and you didn’t want it directed towards anyone else. You wanted his whole heart, you knew that much already, and you could only hope that he wanted the same from you.

Both of you only had one glass of wine with your food, as Kevin was driving you home, and by the time the two of you had reached the front door of your apartment (Kevin had insisted on walking you to your front door, even though it was an apartment building), you felt giddy. Giddy and ridiculous and unbelievably happy. This was it, this was what you had been waiting for. This moment, this knowledge, that same confidence in this thing with Kevin that he’d had all along. You only wished it hadn’t taken you so long.

But you were here now, that’s all that mattered. You and Kevin, together. As it should be.

As you unlocked your front door, you felt yourself pausing in the doorway, Kevin making a questioning noise as you stopped moving. You bit your bottom lip gently, before taking a deep breath to steel your nerves. “Do you want to come in?” you asked, looking up into those beautiful blue eyes.

Kevin’s lips parted in surprise, a stunned expression filling his face.

“Like, come in come in?” he asked, voice a little breathy.

The sheer want in his voice made you shiver, and you knew you’d made the right decision in asking him. You could basically taste the tension between you as you nodded slowly, Kevin swaying forward as if he couldn’t help himself.

But then he stopped, freezing still, making you frown.

“Are you sure? Like, it’s not too soon?” he forced out, eyes a little wild.

So you quickly shook your head, smiling at him checking.

“Kev, it’s us, right?”

He’d been saying it for weeks, that being together was just a next step in your strong foundation of friendship, so both of you giving in to that obvious desire wouldn’t ruin anything at all. You wanted him…he wanted you…so why not take things up another notch?

“Yeah, it’s us. Endgame, baby,” Kevin grinned.

And just like that, the tension burst like a balloon, making you laugh. Yeah, this was the man you were in love with alright.

“Come on loverboy,” you laughed, rolling your eyes fondly, “Let’s not give my neighbours a show,”

Kevin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed you into your apartment, making you laugh all over again. There was none of that nervous apprehension you’d felt with other guys before – it was all just excitement, fizzing and buzzing through your skin, and your mind swirled with ideas.

Stripping him down slowly, piece by piece.

Getting your mouth on him, every inch of his body, especially his cock.

Having him pin you down on your bed, all gorgeous 6ft5 of him surrounding you in the best way.

Fuck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on you since I saw you in that dress,”

Kevin’s soft words tore you out of your lustful thoughts, and you moaned softly at the shiver it sent up your spine. Fuck yes, you were getting laid tonight and it was going to be good.

“Then how about you get your hands on me?” you suggested, corner of your lips lifting up in a smirk.

He wasted no time in pressing you into the nearest wall, barely making it out of the entrance hallway, and you laughed as his hands went straight to your ass.

“Feeling better?” you mused, toying with the top button of his shirt.

This wasn’t a fiery desperate rush, crashing about, rough and riling up – no this was a slow build-up of lust and want, much like your relationship had been a slow build-up. No, this was a slow seduction, sweet and all-consuming, bodies moving in sync and taking what they wanted. And you couldn’t fucking wait.

“Hmm, a little,” Kevin grinned back.

“Only a little huh?” you teased.

“Oh I have a few ideas of what could help,” he murmured.

The flash of heat in his eyes sent a flare of heat through your body, and you couldn’t help but to dart your tongue out to wet your bottom lip, Kevin’s eyes tracking the motion, making you smile. But you had no time to tease him before he took your lips in a kiss, making you whimper at how quickly it got heated before Kevin broke away with a gasp, leaving your head spinning.

“So that’s one idea,” he grinned.

Oh fuck, this man was going to ruin you. But not before you ruined him a little bit first.

“What’s your next idea?” you breathed.

Kevin just grinned, stepping backwards a little bit, making you whine before you could stop yourself.

“Stay right where you are, beautiful. Keep your eyes on me,”

That you could do. You dramatically placed your hands against the wall, making him laugh as he dropped his jacket carelessly to the floor, and his fingers went to the top button of his shirt. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his strong broad chest inch by inch until he was able to drop it to the floor, leaving him in just his jeans. Fuck. You would never be able to get enough of the sight of him like this, let alone the touch (and you couldn’t wait for the taste) – the strength in his shoulders, his chest, his core, his arms…fuck.

“Get back over here,” you said, voice low and rough.

Kevin inhaled sharply, and he wasted no time in stumbling back over to you, arms caging you in against the wall in a way that made you want.

“Great second idea. What’s next?” you breathed.

Fuck. This was winding you up and up and up and you knew the night had barely even started.

“I want…can I taste you?” he blurted.

What? But before you could ask what he meant, Kevin dropped to his knees, making you gasp. Oh fuck. Oh yes.

“You want to be on your knees for me?” you asked, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah, so bad,” Kevin nodded, a little desperate.

Well how could you say no to that?

Biting your bottom lip, you reached up under your dress, hooking your fingers into the sides of your panties and tugging them down. Kevin whined as his view was blocked by the skirt of your dress but you just grinned. This was the least he deserved for stripping his shirt off so slowly. You let your panties drop to the floor when they were past the thickness of your thighs and slowly stepped out of them, kicking them to one side.

His move.

Kevin’s eyes were wide and dark as he raised his hands to rest on your thighs, lips slightly parted.

“Please, can I?” he murmured, thumbs brushing under the skirt hem.

Fuck. This was all too much, the desire, his patience, his asking. Bring it on.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you nodded, inhaling sharply.

He slowly dragged the skirt of your dress up to your hips, moaning softly under his breath when you were revealed bare to him. One of his hands bunched up the dress to hold it in place, the other placed large and firm on your thigh, and his thumb lightly stroked over the wetness in your folds…before he stopped.

Kevin looked up at you, wordless asking one last time. And you just nodded, too overwhelmed in the moment to utter any words, your heart racing at the very sight of him kneeling so comfortably between your thighs. With a smile, he shuffled a little closer to you, ducking his head to place a reverent kiss to your clit, making you gasp, earning a soft laugh.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Kevin mumbled, mostly to himself.

Then he ducked his head down and dove right in, tongue running over your folds in a wide stripe, his tongue flicking at your clit in a way that made you gasp. Fuck. How was he so good at this, straight off the bat? You could feel him smirking against your skin, before his tongue flicked at your clit again, and you couldn’t stop your hips bucking to chase the feeling. Fuck. The hand holding your dress out of the way adjusted to rest across your hips, pinning you to the wall, as his tongue ran back and forth over your core, gathering and tasting your wetness, dipping in and out of you, making you clench down on nothing. You didn’t hold back the soft moans that spilled from your lips, your body trembling with how good he made you feel. But as you clenched down empty again, you knew you could feel even better.

“More, Kev, please?” you begged.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, resting his forehead against your hip.

You giggled, pushing his hair out of his eyes so he would look up at you.

“I want more,” you said firmly, eyes holding his in challenge.

And fuck did he rise to the challenge.

Kevin buried his face back between your thighs, eagerly running his tongue back and forth over you, into you, winding you up higher and higher, until he backed off to just sucking on your clit. Then you realised why he’d changed tactic, as his fingers moved to trail through your folds. With a fingertip teasing at your entrance, Kevin looked up at you, those big blue eyes questioning, and it was all you could do to nod. Leisurely Kevin slid a finger into you, letting you get used to the intrusion before he started to move it, gentle and slow, sending sparks up your spine and making your eyes clench shut. Then his teeth scraped over your clit and you wailed at the electricity that shot through your body, eyes flying open to glare down at him, wild and weak-kneed. Kevin’s eyes just sparkled with laughter, and he wasted no time in sliding in a second finger, sucking at your clit in the same rhythm in which he fucked his fingers into you. Fuck. You could feel a familiar heat start to build and you moaned – it wasn’t fair how quickly he learned the cues of your body.

Two can play at that game.

“You look so good on your knees for me,” you breathed, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Kevin’s eyes flashed with fire as he moaned at your words, sending a shockwave through you, making you gasp. Good. He leaned back slightly, tongue darting out over his swollen lips, before he smirked.

“You look so good with my fingers inside you,” he rasped back, curling both fingers over and over again in a come hither motion, “Going to look even better on my cock,”

Game, set, and match. Fuck. You cried out as the onslaught of his fingers sent you crashing through your high, Kevin smirking before he returned his tongue to lick between the two digits, prolonging the wave of pleasure until you were shaking and overwhelmed. Kevin backed off a little bit, leaning back to sit on his heels, but his face radiated smugness, of a job well done, even as the hard line of his cock strained against the denim of his jeans.

It was all you could do to fall to your knees to join him, straddling his lap lightly as you fought to regain control over your breathing, his hands going straight to your hips where your dress had fallen back down.

“Fuck, Kev,” you said with a shaky laugh.

He just smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh for real. Ridiculous man. Without saying another word, you rested one hand against his bare chest, lifting the other hand to cup his face. You stroked your thumb over the wetness lingering on his bottom lip, before pressing down lightly on that lip to get him to open his mouth, and Kevin took the hint straight away, accepting your thumb into his mouth. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight of him closing his plush lips around it, sucking the wetness away, the same wetness that was still between your thighs.

Then his teeth scraped over the pad of your thumb, imitating his treatment of your clit, making you moan and clench down on nothing, even more evident where your thighs were spread across his lips.

“You’re such a tease,” you gasped, pulling your thumb free.

“Not a tease if I’m planning on following through,” Kevin said simply, smirk still playing with his expression.

The intensity in his eyes paired with the way his hands squeezed your hips sent a shiver up your spine, and you let a small smirk of your own drift across your lips.

“Hmm, yes, you said something about how good I’ll look with your cock inside me?” you murmured.

The noise that tore from Kevin’s throat was barely human, more feral than anything else, and the want in his eyes sent a wave of heat through your body. Fuck, yes.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, “I know I just said it in the heat of the moment, but do you…do you want…”

“Yeah, Kev, I want,” you nodded quickly.

Kevin all but growled. “Hook your legs around my waist,” he said firmly.

What?

And then you felt his abs tense, as Kevin anchored himself to stand up from the floor with you in his arms, and you shrieked as you hurried to do as he said, hooking your ankles together against the swell of his ass.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you breathed, arms firmly around his neck as he held you securely.

It was all you could do not to think about how your bare core was pressed against his abs. Fuck.

“Yeah?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Take me to bed, Kev,”

Kevin swallowed heavily, his eyes flashing dark and serious.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

A party was never just a simple party when Kevin Hayes was involved. Music was pounding, beer was flowing, shots were poured, and weed was an easy haze on the back porch. At all the parties he’d thrown like this in the past, you’d always drifted to and from him, flitting from group to group just like he did, always separate. But this time, no – this time you were sitting on the sofa with his arm wrapped around your waist, leaning into his body because now you could.

And fuck did it feel good.

“So, tell us, how does it feel to be finally be called Kevin’s girl, rather than Kevin’s New York girl?” Claude grinned.

Ah yes, that nickname. Finally, it could die.

“Feels pretty fucking sweet actually,” you said simply.

Everyone on the sofas around you burst into laughter, and you could feel the rumble of Kevin’s own laughter deep in his chest. You couldn’t help but look up at him with a smile, earning an adoring smile back, as well as a soft kiss. Yeah, this was exactly where you wanted to be. 

 “How did you two actually meet?” Ryanne asked, smiling, “Like, I know you’ve been friends for years…but how?”

You found yourself smiling as you looked back up at Kevin, and he smiled down at you. It was true, you really had been friends with him for years at this point. And your first meeting was pretty funny.

“Go ahead,” Kevin shrugged.

His loss.

“Alright, so it went like this…”

~

Sunday night was grocery run night – and this week was no different. You walked into the lobby of your apartment building with both your arms full, trying to figure out how you were going to call the elevator, when you noticed a very tall guy already waiting, the elevator call button pressed. Huh, that solved that problem.

He smiled as you stopped next to him, giving you a little nod. “Hey,”

Holy shit this guy is hot. No, not the time. Tall…hot…great smile…no, focus. Be cool.

“Oh hey, you’re one of the new guys, right?” you smiled, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’m Kevin. I just got a place with my buddies Jimmy and Brady. A couple of floors up from you, right?”

Oh wow. He froze as your eyes widened in surprise, and groaned.

“I swear I’m not a creep?” he offered, wincing, “I’m just really good with faces,”

For some reason, you believed him. Call it intuition, or vibes, or whatever. This guy was being genuine. Huh.

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you teased.

His shoulders slumped a little as if releasing tension, making you smile. As if by fate, the elevator pinged its arrival, and Kevin gestured for you to enter first before following you in.

“So,”

“So,”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you spoke in unison, Kevin just grinning. Oops.

“Go ahead,” you mused.

“I was going to say, if you fancy meeting my other flatmates too, we’re having a little housewarming of sorts. Like, a bunch of our friends are coming over, sort of a drop in and out whenever time kind of thing. It’d be nice to meet you properly, and show you I’m not actually a weirdo? Friday, if you’re free?”

Oh wow. That was really…sweet? Sure, it could blow up in your face, and he could actually be a creep…but again, those intuitive vibes were saying he wasn’t. And it definitely beats sitting at home and eating cold pizza. Again.

And damn, if his flatmates looked anything like him? Eye candy for days.

“Friday huh? I could do Friday,” you said simply, trying to keep your cool.

His answering smile let you know you’d made the right decision.

~

“…and after that, we became really good friends, all four of us. He never flirted with me after that time in the elevator and I tried my hardest not to flirt with him. I stayed in touch with Kev when he went to the Jets and then here to the Flyers, and he was one of the first people I got in contact with when my job moved me to Philadelphia. And then everything changed a few weeks ago. The rest is history,” you shrugged.

Kevin grinned, although he definitely had a blush on his cheeks.

“You were such a creep,” Claude said, laughing.

Kevin blushed a little fiercer. “It just came out! Of course I noticed the prettiest girl in the building – that was the least awful way I could’ve said it,”

You rolled your eyes as his friends hooted and jeered, although you felt your cheeks heat up with warmth.

“Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” you teased.

“I got there in the end, didn’t I?” he shot back with a dramatic wink.

“Only took you a few years,” Nolan snorted.

Kevin just grinned, unashamed.

It may have taken a few years, but Kevin was right – you had gotten there in the end. All the years of self-doubt and insecurity, thinking you’d never be more than just friends, had resulted in a beautiful – if unexpected – relationship. A build-up of such a solid foundation of friendship over the past four years had already given you the opportunity to learn so much about him – and you couldn’t wait to learn even more. To learn about Kevin, the boyfriend. And, maybe even more than that, if you were lucky. Yes, unexpected as this may have been, you were in this for the long haul. And you couldn’t wait.

[yespleasetommyshelby]

Should've just asked - Part 2 - Oscar Diaz

One week, seven days, 168 hours, 10080 minutes, 604800 seconds, since he fucked everything up with y/n. Threw it all away because his own insecurities got the better off him, all because he didn't just ask.

He hadn't seen sad eyes since that day either, leaving him alone to stew in his own bubble of self pity. He hadn't left his home since that day, instead opting to send Cesar to the store when something was needed or delegating his Santo's jobs to other members. The bags that y/n and Sad eyes had left behind in the mall sitting against the wall opposite him, mocking him with their bright colours and smiling logos, he'd looked through them as soon as he'd gotten home, each one filled with balloons, banners, anything you would need to through a birthday, even a badge that read 'birthday king' in big bold letters.

Today was his birthday, his 26th, a day where he should've been out in the yard celebrating with one of his famous Santo's parties with the love of his life by his side but instead he was sat in an empty house, bar his younger brother, wallowing in a pit of self pity.

"You still sulking?" Cesar asked as he watched his brother stare at the blank space by his feet, interrupting his pity party.

"Fuck off." He muttered, reaching for the half smoked joint that had been abandoned in the ashtray an hour ago.

"It's been a week Oscar, you can't sit around moping all the time, yeah you fucked up, I get it, but sitting here isn't helping anything." Cesar sighed, this past week he'd seen a side of his older brother that he couldn't remember seeing before, sad and bitchy Spooky was not a pretty sight.

"You don't get shit." Oscar sighed as he lit his joint, breathing in the smoke before exhaling slowly. "I fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me, to us, I lost mi amor Cesar." He mumbled, his eyes filling with tears that he rapidly tried to blink back.

"I know, I know I've never had anything like what you and y/n have, how about we go to the mall? I need some new trainers for school." Cesar asked, watching Oscars face carefully.

"Can't you take your little groupie with you?" Oscar muttered, stubbing out his joint in the ashtray before leaning back and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Please Oscar, it'll help get your mind of shit." Cesar tried again, desperate to get Oscar out of the house and the hole he was currently wallowing in.

"Fine." He sighed, pulling himself up and heading towards the door, missing Cesar pull out his phone and send a quick text.

He's out.

-------

Just down the street y/n grinned as her phone dinged, the text she'd been waiting for finally coming through.

"Hey Sad eyes!" She called into the spare room where he had been staying for the last week, opting to stay and comfort the upset girl rather than spending nights in his own bed.

"What's up?" He asked as he opened the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Were you seriously sleeping at 2 in the afternoon?" She asked with an amused smile. "Anyway, Cesar's managed to get Oscar out the house so I'm heading over there now, you coming?" She asked with a smile, excited yet nervous at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, just give me two minutes." The man grumbled before going back into the room.

Yes, y/n was still pissed about how Oscar had acted a week ago, calling her out for being a cheat in the middle of the mall after doing nothing more than planning his birthday. But at the same time the last week had been hell, she'd received multiple texts and missed calls from Oscar, all apologising for that day, for making a fool out of all three of them. No matter how badly he had embarrassed her that day he was still the only thing in her heart, the love of her life and she was determined not to throw it all away, they had fixed every other problem that had arose in their relationship and they was going to fix this too. Which is why her and Sad eyes were currently on their way to the Diaz household, ready to throw him the most surprising surprise party there ever was.

"Alright, you start to put the food out and I'll get started with the decorations." Y/n smiled as she went over to the bags sat against the wall, the same ones that her and Sad eyes had gotten at the mall. "I'm surprised he didn't throw this out." She mused, digging through the bags to find the balloons.

"I've told you, the guys borderline obsessed with you." Sad eyes laughed from the kitchen.

An hour later and everything was set up, banners covered the walls, balloons floated through the house and yard alike while the food and drinks tables looked immaculate, thanks to Ruby's help.

Everything was in full swing, music blasting, drinks in people's hands as she received yet another text that she was waiting for.

2 minutes out.

"Alright! Everyone be quiet, he's just coming!" Y/n yelled, the music being cut and the loud laughter turning to hushed murmurs as her nerves grew knowing Oscar was just about to walk through the doors.

The loud slamming of the front door caught everyone's attention as they stood anxiously waiting for the Santos leader, the faint 'what the fuck is this?' Making her chuckle only being able to imagine how confused Oscar must have looked right then.

"Surprise!" Everyone cheered as Oscar and Cesar appeared at the back door, Cesar sporting a grin as Oscars wide eyes roamed the crowd before landing on y/n.

"You did this?" He asked quietly, not yet making a move as his mind tried to decide whether this was real, if she really was stood right in front of him.

"Well." She smiled bashfully. "I had some help." She shrugged as Sad Eyes came from round the corner with two coronas in his hands.

"Happy birthday Spooky." He smiled, holding a bottle out for Oscar to take, smiling and clinking their bottles together once Oscar took one.

"Aye, listen man, I'm, uh, I'm sorry about hitting you, the other day." Oscar sighed, feeling weird having to apologise for punching someone who was basically his brother.

"No worries Spook." Sad eyes chuckled patting his brother on the shoulder. "Now go get your girl." He smirked, nodding towards y/n who was stood a few feet away talking to Cesar and Jamal.

"Hey, uh, can we talk?" Oscar asked walking up to her and rubbing the back of his neck from the nerves.

"Yeah, sure." She smiled, feeling her heart beating through her chest as she looked up into his eyes.

They were both stood staring at each other before Cesar clearing his throat pulled them out of whatever trance they were in.

"Hey Jamal how about we go find Ruby?" Cesar asked, raising his eyebrows at Jamal who just didn't seem to get the hint.

"What? Why? We see him all the time." The young boy shrugged, oblivious to the scowls he was receiving from the Diaz brothers and the amused look from y/n.

"Beat it." Oscar deadpanned, smirking as Jamal quickly turned and walked away leaving Cesar to follow with a chuckle.

"Was there any need for that?" Y/n giggled as she turned back to Oscar, looking up at him with an amused glint in her eye.

"Kid doesn't know when to take a hint." Oscar shrugged, not seeing the issue in how he spoke to Jamal in the slightest.

"Yeah well, he is Jamal." Y/n shrugged with a laugh. "Anyway, what was it you wanted to say?" She asked remembering why the Santo had come to her in the first place.

"I uh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, ya know, for blowing up on you the other day, I know how stupid I was being and I called you out for bullshit you didn't even do." Oscar sighed, his hand that wasn't holding his beer clenching and unclenching at his side as he tried to find the right words. "Just uh, just the thought that you were out with some other cabrón made me see red, I didn't even think to ask, I just wanted to punch whoever it was in the face." He spoke quietly, y/n only just hearing him over the music that had started up again.

"Oscar, you're right, it was stupid." She snorted making Oscars heart drop his eyes going straight to the floor, it was too late. "But." She started, making his eyes flick back up to her immediately. "But I love you Oscar Diaz, I love you so fucking much that this last week has been killing me. I don't know what to do when I'm not with you Oscar, and I don't ever want to have to do that again." She sighed, a lone tear a sliding down her cheek which he quickly reached up to wipe away.

"I love you too mi amor, I know I get jealous and over protective but that's only because I don't want any one taking you away from me, not now, not ever." He mumbled shaking his head slightly before putting his bottle down on the nearest table.

"I know, baby, I know." Y/n smiled, reaching up taking his face in her hands, thumbs rubbing along his jawline gently. "You know if the roles were reversed I would've done much more to any hyna I thought was coming for you." She giggled, already having thrown hands with one before.

"Trust me, I remember, that shit was hot." Oscar chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist as hers slid from his face to going around his neck, opting to rub the bottom of his neck rather than jaw line.

"Now what?" Y/n asked, her eyes flickering between his.

"What do you want?" Oscar asked quietly, not wanting to push her into anything that she didn't want.

"What do I want? I want you Oscar Diaz, I want you everyday for the rest of my life, jealousy and temper included." She laughed as he rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"Good." Oscar smirked down at her. "Because I ain't never letting you go." He whispered, pulling her towards him, leaning down and planting his lips on hers for the first time in a week.

"I love you Oscar." She mumbled happily, resting her head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back.

"I love you too mi amor." He smiled, placing a kiss on her forehead and squeezing her tight.

"Also, watching you punch sad eyes in the face really turned me on." She mumbled with a laugh as she felt Oscar tense slightly.

"Is that right?" He chuckled, looking down at her. "Well it's been a week, we best take care of that." He laughed before pulling away and lifting her over his shoulder before heading into the house landing a swift smack to her backside.

"Woo! Spookys gunna get some!" Was heard as he carried her through to the bedroom, both of them laughing as he threw her onto the bed.

"You're so perfect mi Reina." Oscar whispered leaning over her as he stroked a few stray hairs out of her face.

"If anyone's perfect here it's you." Y/n smiled letting her eyes wonder his beautiful features. "Just promise me something." She mumbled after placing a quick peck to his lips.

"Anything." He answered immediately, ready to give anything and everything to make her happy.

"Next time, just ask." She giggled as he rolled his eyes.

"Putá." He mumbled as he leaned down for a slow kiss.

"But you love me anyway." She whispered.

"Always mi amor."

One week without seeing each other.

Seven days without so much as a smile.

168 hours without a kiss.

10080 minutes without an 'I love you'.

604800 seconds without each other.

One surprise party to fix it all.

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: One of my favorites. Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: mentions of violence

Word Count: 2780

—————————————

Chapter 8: Tell Me, Muse

After an awkward-turned-heartfelt conversation between the reunited Allison and Luther about how good they were and the former’s marriage, the two slowly leaned away from each other on their own sides of the table. Allison decided to break the short silence between them. “Have you, um, heard from any of the others? Vanya?”

“Uh, on a farm,” Luther answered with raised brows. “And happy.”

Allison nodded, brows furrowed. “Right… Weird… Uh, Diego?”

“Nuthouse. Klaus?”

“Cult leader.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, Allison laughing aloud. “And, uh, Five turned up a few days ago. What about (Y/N)? You know anything about her?”

Allison froze, her mouth opening and closing. “I… I was hoping you’d know… Five doesn’t?”

“No, he hasn’t found her yet.” Luther’s expression saddened as Allison stared down at the table with a solemn look. “Hey… we’ll find her. She’s tough as nails. I’m sure she’s doing just fine.”

Allison glanced up at him, trying a smile. “Yeah… Yeah, I hope so…”

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

“I don’t see Dad anywhere.” Diego said as he, Lila and Five stood in the midst of the gala. Five turned to him, glass in his hand.

“Just keep an eye out for the Majestic Twelve. I got the upstairs,” When his brother turned away, Five caught his attention again. “Diego, try not to do anything too stupid.” He nodded before taking off, eliciting a soft chuckle from Lila.

Just as the boy ascended the stairs, (Y/N) and Preston had just passed the bottom to slip past Diego and Lila. Preston, after setting the girl’s drink down wherever, held her by the hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. The two got into position before moving to the beat of the music. Preston tried more than once to steal a kiss, but she would lean away or turn her head in a different direction as if something caught her eye. To say he was getting frustrated was an understatement. She could tell by the quiet huffs through his nose.

“They’re playing our song.” Lila whispered before grabbing Diego by his tie, dragging him onto the dance floor. The only thing separating Diego and (Y/N) was an elderly couple dancing between them. But Diego was too immersed in his dance with Lila to notice his sister. He spun his ‘crazy lady’ around a couple times, causing her to grin. “You’ve got moves.”

“My father insisted on ballroom lessons,” Diego informed before horribly imitating Reginald. “‘One never knows when the paso doble will be the difference between life and death’,” He quoted before slowly dipping Lila. “‘Children’.”

“My mum used to say something along those lines.” Lila whispered, gently pushing his hair back.

“Yeah?” He smiled, eyes moving up when a blur of orange got his attention. He nearly dropped Lila onto the floor when they landed on the person who adorned that color.

“Preston, I don’t think you’ve even applied any of our lessons to our dance.” (Y/N) muttered to her date, who smirked and rolled his eyes. “And why does it seem like you don’t care? I kinda need for you to actually do something right so my dad won’t be on my ass after this.”

“Your dad is nowhere near.” Preston whispered, moving even closer. The girl scoffed and flicked his nose with her fingers. He gasped and hissed as he scrunched up his nose, but before he could scold her about her poor manners, she was pulled out of his hold. Milliseconds later, Lila was spun into Preston’s arms, the boy instinctively holding onto her so she wouldn’t fall. The two stared at each other in confusion and slight disgust as she slowly nodded.

“What a party.”

(Y/N) held onto whoever saved her from her unbearable date, her grip so tight that he softly hissed. Snapping her head up, she gasped at the sight of her brother staring at her with wide eyes and a bright smile. “Diego…”

“Hey, sis.” He wasted no time in crushing her into a hug. Happily laughing, she returned the comfort. Upon close inspection, Lila identified her target. And now she knew that she was important to Diego. The siblings naturally fell into a waltz that Diego flowed along nicely with.

“Look at you, big brother,” (Y/N) laughed. “Not so robotronic anymore, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s been years since I’ve been your dance partner. I had to show you someday. How long have you been here? In Dallas?”

“Since late 1961. You?”

“Got here over two months ago. Shit, you’ve been here awhile… How are you holding up?”

“What do you think?” She chuckled and spun herself under his arm. He got a glimpse of her outfit and hummed.

“Not too bad, I see.” He became serious and leaned in closer. “(Y/N), listen to me, alright? Five was the last of us to get here-”

“Five?” (Y/N)’s steps stuttered a bit, but Diego got them back on beat. “You saw Five?”

He nodded. “But that’s not it. He told me-”

Diego was cut off yet again when (Y/N) was spun out of his hold, replaced by Lila. The woman simply shrugged and nodded towards Preston, who was now holding (Y/N) close and glaring at Diego. He returned the glare before Lila turned his chin so he was facing her. “She’s a little young for you, yeah?”

“What? No, gross. That’s my sister.” He shook his head. Lila raised her brows and led the two in a dance.

“A little sister? How cute…”

“She’s not as little as you think.” He chuckled. “There’s a lot of… interesting things about my family.”

“I didn’t notice.” She giggled, the two of them inching closer until their lips nearly grazed each other. Once again, a certain someone caught Diego’s eye, and Lila noticed. “Well, you are easily distracted.”

But he wasn’t listening to her. “It can’t be…” He whispered before slipping away from Lila, leaving her alone on the dance floor. His journey to Grace seemed to go in slow motion, the man slipping between bodies and clearing the path until she was all he saw. When she turned to him, he was transfixed. It was Grace. His mother who he shut off. “Mom…” He whispered, the woman giving him a look.

“Well, that isn’t the first time I’ve heard that,” Her Texas drawl threw him off a bit. Of course. This was the actual Grace. When Diego’s face dropped in realization, she became more perplexed. “Everything alright, hun?”

With a small smile, Diego stepped closer. “You’re real…”

Nervously chuckling, Grace shifted in her place, blinking rapidly. “If this is your idea of a come-on, it’s not goin’ well.”

“No,” Diego stuttered. “Uh, do… Do you know a… a man named Sir Reginald Hargreeves?” He questioned, crossing his arms.

“Reggie? He’s my date this evenin’.”

Diego raised his brows and widened his eyes. “Your date…?” His expression fell into disgust when Grace nodded in confirmation. At his grimace, she shook her head.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. No, no, it’s… it’s just, uh… It’s just a lot to process. The… The thought of the two of you… I can’t picture that in my head. That is… That’s nasty.”

Sighing, Grace tried to make sense of this entire conversation. “You’re a little odd, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Diego smiled up at her, enjoying the sound of her soft laugh before his expression fell. “I mean no. Uh… Do you know where he is?”

“He said somethin’ about a quick meetin’, and he’d be right back. That was twenty minutes ago.”

Diego stared at her with a judging look. But not in judgment of her. “Never good to keep a lady waiting.”

“Tell him that if you find him.” Grace lifted her drink before walking past Diego. She was almost out of sight when he called out to her by her name. Not remembering giving it to him, she turned with guarded confusion. But he only gave her a gentle look.

“It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too.”

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had managed to slip away from Preston, making an excuse to head to the little girls’ room. Unbeknownst to him, she walked in the entire opposite direction, swiftly falling into step beside Lila. “Sorry about that whole switcheroo situation. My brother seems to think with anything but his head.”

“Yes, I noticed,” She smiled, reaching her hand out to shake. “I’m Lila.”

“(Y/N).” The girl shook her hand. Lila’s eyes scanned her up and down as she assessed her.

“My, my, you are cute, aren’t you?”

Thrown off a bit, (Y/N) chuckled and slowly took her hand back. “Thank you? So, how’d you and Diego meet?” She asked as the two of them linked arms.

“The asylum.”

“Lovely.”

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

Blinking into a closet inside the meeting room of the Majestic Twelve, Five adjusted his eyes to the darkness and peered in through the small space he had.

“The president is continuing to make inquiries into Roswell and the other crash sites, gentlemen,” One of the men spoke. “And, as you know, we cannot allow him to get his nose into our business.”

As he continued, Five noticed one of the Twelve delicately cleaning a monocle, urging the boy to lean in closer. “I’ve confirmed the motorcade will indeed be turning left on Elm Street. We’ll have our people in place.”

“Gentlemen,” The familiarity of the British accent startled Five for a mere second, but he only pressed himself closer. “This plan of yours seems ill-timed.”

“It’s going to be a turkey shoot.” Another of the Twelve commented just before Five had gotten too invested and unintentionally made noise with a hanger, causing the men to tense and whirl towards the closet. When the face of Sir Reginald Hargreeves came into view, Five could only stare in shock.

“Dad…?”

Reginald shushed the men and stalked towards the fireplace, grabbing one of the pokers and heading straight for the closet. Five and Reginald stood before each other in silence. One unknowing, one not. The next second, Reginald stabbed through the closet, intentionally trying to harm whoever was on the other side. When he opened the door, though, no one was there.

Five blinked into the hallway and exhaled, straightening his uniform before spinning around. Stood before him was one of the Swedish assassins. The boy cursed to himself before he was grabbed and thrown against the wall. Before he could be thrown into the other, he blinked through it and then behind the man, kicking him in the back of the knee and sending him to the ground. Five jumped onto his back and attempted to snap his neck, but the man was much stronger than the boy anticipated. So, he was flipped over and onto his back. Before the Swede could land a punch to his face, Five blinked behind him again. When he saw that he couldn’t successfully fight back, he tried again to blink, but the energy of his power only sputtered. Much like when he first arrived in the apocalypse. He was drained. When he looked up, the man was much closer than before. “Oh, shit…” The boy muttered before receiving a punch to the face.

In search of Lila, Diego rushed up the stairs and turned the corner, only to find his brother getting pummeled by one of the gunmen he had the pleasure of meeting during his asylum escape. Diego began to move towards Five, but was pulled back when a belt came around his throat and constricted his airway. He struggled with all his might, but his attacker did not relent. Moving to stand in front of him was the other gunman, now wearing brass knuckles on one of his hands. Rearing his arm back, he forcefully rammed the knuckles into Diego’s gut, then his face. Diego used his legs to kick the man away and send him to his knees. Taking out one of his knives, he launched it towards him, but it missed his target completely. He was focused enough on the third Swede continuing to choke him. Diego was dragged down the opposite end of the hall as Five, as the Swede with the brass knuckles landed his weapon on the poor man over and over.

Just in time, (Y/N) and Lila reached the hallway, both of them immediately turning in Diego’s direction. The young girl gasped and rushed to her brother without hesitation. Remembering her ‘side gig’, Lila quickly grabbed a hold of her arm, but turned in the opposite direction upon hearing a groan. Her eyes zeroed on Five being punched, kicked, thrown, and her mother’s voice rang in her head.

“Protect Number Five at all costs.”

So, she let (Y/N) go, the young girl never removing her gaze from her brother. The two females seemed to have had the same idea of kicking off their heels, but (Y/N) took her second one into her hand and launched the heel into the face of the man who was choking Diego. Her brother greedily took gulps of air into his lungs as she tackled the man to the ground. He was the shortest of the three, so he was the best she’d get to an equal opponent. (Y/N) sent punch after punch to his face, her small hands forcing themselves around his throat and squeezing. She watched as his reddened face began to pale the harder she squeezed, and right when she thought he’d pass out, he tangled their legs together and flipped them over. The back of her head hit the floor, a groan escaping her lips before she got her treatment right back to her. Lifting her by the throat, the Swede swung her around and pinned her to the wall.

“Eat shit and die…” She gasped out around his hand. He only clenched his jaw and slammed her head against the wall so hard she was beginning to see stars. Diego kicked his own opponent away before grabbing his sister’s attacker by the hair and tugging him back. Barely giving herself time to breathe, (Y/N) grabbed the shortest Swede by his suit lapels and, with all the force her worn-out body could muster, swung him into the wall. She heard a crack when the back of his head hit the wall, the man slumping to the floor. Turning to Diego, the two breathlessly smiled at each other before a voice called out.

“(Y/N)?! Honey, where are you? We need to go!”

“Shit.” She muttered before grabbing her heels and rushing down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, Preston was there to catch her before she could stumble down the last few steps. Silently, she dropped her heels to the ground and held onto him for balance as she slipped them on.

“(Y/N), what the hell happened to you? I thought you went to the bathroom.” Preston held her by the waist.

“Uh, I got lost?”

“Well, we’ve gotta go, your mom is worried sick.” He grabbed her hand and rushed them out of the building. Just after Five had looked away from the window where he’d spotted Grace and Reginald, (Y/N) and Preston had just been approaching said adults. Grace let go of Reginald’s hand and gasped aloud, hugging her daughter close.

“Where were you? We couldn’t find you anywhere, darlin’.”

(Y/N) quietly chuckled as her father guided them to their awaiting car. “I, uh… got lost leaving the bathroom.” She lied as Preston held the door open for her. The last person to get in the car was Reginald, but just when he opened the door, a familiar voice sounded.

He turned in the direction of someone calling out to him in Ancient Greek. (Y/N) sat up quickly and tried to look out of Preston’s window, but he was blocking her view. That voice…

“Reggie,” Grace sighed. “What are you waitin’ for? We need to go.”

Without another word, Reginald climbed inside the car beside Grace. As they drove away, (Y/N)’s eyes never strayed from Preston’s window. “Dad, who was that?”

“No one important.” He dismissed, but she didn’t give up yet.

“Why did he recite the Odyssey?”

“I’m not sure-”

“And in Ancient Greek?”

“(Y/N), my child,” Her father exasperatedly sighed. “I do not know. It is nothing for you to worry about. So, stop fretting.”

The girl clutched her dress in both her fists, harshly biting her lip. Because there were only so many people she knew, besides herself, who could recite Homer in Ancient Greek.

—————————————

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