#nobody really knows how the tower got there in both universes BUT i can see it being magic either way

[superkirbylover]

Normal peppino: Oh, I-a really don't want to-a fight, I have a business to-a run!

Pony peppino:

KILL MAIM BURN

LMAO

to be fair though i think both of them are both of these. idealy they don't want to fight people because they have a business to run, but push come to shove, if their business is threatened they WILL kill for it

in this essay this will serve as the basis as for why pony peppino absolutely despises the flim flam brothers

[demonfox38]

Completed - Wild ARMs

Man, it really gives the whole plot away to know that Zepet is supposed to be translated as Geppetto. 😅

I was having another indecisive spat on what to play this June, as I wasn't in the mood to play anything in particular. (Decision fatigue gets real bad when you have literally 281 games left to beat between Steam and physical copies. Shit, that's not even getting into mini consoles…) After tossing up another poll online, the series winner for this month turned out to be "Wild ARMs." Now, I've got one mutual that is pretty sweet on "Wild ARMs 3" in particular, but I didn't want to jump right to that, as I know how it can go when you start a series further down the line, then go back in time. Features get rolled back; content gets rougher. (Well, in a world where things are always improving, that's how it goes, anyway.) So, to get a fresh taste of this series, I started with its primary release.

"Wild ARMs" (not to be confused with "Wild Guns") follows the adventures of three travelers seeking to restore life to their dying world via the help of ancient guardians, magic, and technology—at least, when it isn't trying to actively kill them. Standard RPG plot, right? The major twist here revolves around the use of iconography from the American Old West to create a whole new world and set of combat and exploration systems. Does it work? Well…it's weird to see castles and princesses in a story taking aesthetics from the distinctly anti-monarchical United States, but honestly, we're also responsible for the Disney Princess subculture. So, maybe it's not as weird of a mix as it initially seems.

This game is like every RPG and no RPG at all. Like, if you're long in the tooth with RPGs, you'll get it. Aesthetically, it's on par with contemporary titles like "Tales of Phantasia" and "Xenogears," particularly with the latter's mix of anime cutscenes, 2D sprites, and 3D battle models. ("Golden Sun" also shares a similar pseudo 3D model sprite appearance to this game, if you want some more distant connections.) Dungeon navigation and puzzle manipulation feel very "Sweet Home"/"Tales" RPG/"Paper Mario" adjacent, with each party member acquiring a set of tools to use in their environment to make their way forward. Most surprisingly to me, I kept getting this feeling of nostalgia that I have when I play "Tales of Symphonia." Like, yes, tropes get passed around like hot potatoes in this particular genre of games, but holy shit. When you have:

A boy getting kicked out of the starting village due to violence in which he was involved,

A girl struggling with the veneer and duties of her role,

A man hiding his past struggles with letting an important woman in his life down,

A woman obsessed with the magical technology from ancient ruins,

A collection of supernatural entities fighting alongside humans via summon gauges,

A set of four powerful individuals dictating the fate of the planet,

A subquest involving rebuilding a city through your donations,

A unicorn hidden in a lake that turns out to be a component for healing a serious ailment, and

A goddamn giant ass tower serving as the connective tissue between the planet and the heavens…

Like, I didn't do deep research, but I did give a 10 minute flip through MobyGames to see if there was any staff overlap between "Wild ARMs" and "Tales of Symphonia." Finding nobody crossing the lines there was surprising. Some kind of convergent evolution was going on there, I guess! Hell, maybe the only reason I'm fixating on this is because of how integral "Tales of Symphonia" was to my life, and how this felt more "Symphonia"-esque to me than its literal sequel/predecessor "Tales of Phantasia"…

The big unique feature of this game is its focus on ARMs management. No, that is not a typo! In this universe, ARMs stands for Ancient Relic Machines, which are a variety of firearms both realistic and futuristic in nature. Proper management of your ARM inventory can make or break the toughest of battles, so it's worth investing some serious cash (or Gella; weird name, I know) into your main character's weaponry. Upgradable statistics include the firearm's power, accuracy, and ammo capacity. While a handful stand out as particularly useful (given your progress in the story), it doesn’t hurt to upgrade everything.

Oh. By the way. You can make that very easy to do.

The same mutual that first brought this series to my attention also let me know about a super critical game-breaking bug. (Thanks again, @unwontedfemme!) Ya see, games from this era were mostly written up in a combination of pointer languages (C++, most likely) and assembly code. If you are not used to working with pointers, you can make a significant mistake. When fetching the value of a variable, you can accidentally pass the address of where the variable is instead of the value itself. Given that this is usually a large hex value, you can accidentally max out or overflow a variable. I suspect the following bug is a result of that behavior.

In "Wild ARMs"', you can cause an item count max-out to happen by doing the following:

Secure Nx2 Heal Berries (where N is greater than 1), an item you want to duplicate with a stock of 1, and three active teammates.

Get in a battle.

Have Teammate 1 (Rudy) heal themselves.

Have Teammate 2 (Jack) heal themselves.

Have Teammate 3 (Cecilia) swap the inventory position of the Heal Berry and the item you want to duplicate, then back out of the inventory window and attack an enemy.

If you finish the round without exiting the battle, then the second item will duplicate itself to a maximum inventory value of 255, well exceeding the intended stock limit of 99. Chaining this bug can result not only in a shitton of items (and money, if you sell 254 of them off), but this can also aid the player in maxing out character stats and spell slots, as well as helping one character reduce his skills' MP costs all to 1 a piece. Like, damn, right? It's not as easy to do as, let's say, the card swap trick from "Castlevania: Circle of the Moon." But, damned if that doesn't save time grinding! (Although, honestly, I wouldn't recommend stat boosting too much. Don't want to lock yourself out of this method, do you?)

Like, okay. "Final Fantasy VII" had a similar item duplication bug. However, being able to do this from, like, two hours in gives this cheese some extra flavor.

You might be able to make yourself a walking tank in battle, but handling your characters' toolsets may be the metric that culls the wheat from the chaff. I could see a lot of people giving up before the credits hit due to a surprise stealth section with wonky speed boosts. Additional punishing tasks can include finicky positioning with grappling hooks, false item pickups, environmental damage, hidden insta-ejects from the dungeon, and time countdowns to escape certain doom, sometimes even paired with optional (and possibly missable) content. The most excruciating challenges are definitely in optional dungeons, but it's still irksome enough to mention. I probably would have had far less patience with the game had I not been playing it through a locally burned ISO and SwanStation.

Sometimes, I just don't want to drag my PS1/2 out of the basement.

For me, the most troublesome part of handling "Wild ARMs" was getting a grip on Filgaia itself. It definitely doesn't help that the game is bouncing you around from place to place, throwing in random teleporters before you even get a ship. Good luck navigating after that!

Like, look at this in-game map:

Tell me how this is helping you locate anything.

It should probably be noted that several proper nouns and names aren't translated the best here, either. Like, the game's text didn't fall into major grammatical traps until the end of the game. However, some poor translator was having a hell of a time working katakana into English. Several character and demon names were mangled in translation, including a significant chunk of the main cast. Particular offenses were translating Siegfried into Zeikfried, Vambrace (as in, a character's last name and knight title) into Van Burace, demon Belial into Berial, and critical minor character Geppetto into Zepet. Although, to be honest, I kind of like the last one getting name mashed. It makes a particular plot twist regarding his closest main character acquaintance a little more shadowed…

Also, it's kind of fucked up to name Jewish constructs after demons, isn't it? Oops. At least the people and elements based on generalized Native American culture aren't egregiously executed. There are probably a few more war bonnets than is kosher, but that's about the worst that I (an average white girl) can pick up on. Considering they could have easily all been magical space elves or robot demons with this plot's cast, the citizens of Baskar Village are very tame. They're just practicing their own religion, keeping peace on their own island. Alright! Understandable. Definitely better than whatever the hell's going on in "Wild ARMs 2", from what I've heard…

Look. I'm not the person to come to regarding this subject. I want to come by that honestly. I'm just glad when I get something Western flavored out of Japan and don't have to side-eye J. M. Barrie or Walt Disney. Because, ya know…any misunderstanding there are the fault of people like me. The least I can do is try to keep an open eye/mind/heart and let other people know if/when something comes up.

I'm not responsible for this game ripping off Ennio Morricone's "The Ecstasy of Gold", though!

Jabs aside, this game genuinely does have good music. If you want a place to pick and choose some items, this YouTube playlist should get you on your way. Particular tracks of interest include:

Into the Wilderness (the main theme)

Alone in the World

Town

After the Chaos and Destruction

Kishum Flame (teleporter theme)

Courage (Dungeon)

Critical Hit! (the main battle theme)

Wh-What (Zed's Theme, which sounds a bit like something from a "Ganbare Goemon" game)

Lamenting and a Promes;The Demon Tower that Pierces the Heavens; Return to Ashes (vocal arrangements!)

To the Sea of Stars

Holy Mother of Darkness

Morning of the Journey (orchestra arrangement of the main theme)

Honestly, I'm surprised at how thorough this soundtrack is, plagiarism incident aside. It does a better job than the visuals do at meshing the east-meets-west dynamic "Wild ARMs" has going for it. I can't be as glowing about some of the special effects sounds (especially on some of Jack's skills), but the music is solid.

Also? I found myself stopping to take screenshots of several enemies throughout the game. A lot of the enemies are striking. Like, okay. Sometimes, they're just caterpillars and mushrooms. Other times, they're disembodied heads with jagged fangs, bloated demons, delightful clowns, congealed corpses, decapitated soldiers riding chariots, or even spider-legged centaurs. Weird and gruesome? Sure. But, I always appreciate something weird coming after me, even if it's a unicorn with a dog's jaw and a crow's tail. And hell! They found some way to work in a kitsune into a Yeehaw RPG. That has to be worth something!

"Wild ARMs" is a special kind of game. I knew I was in for something good when the game managed to pull a credit drop in the middle of a goddamn funeral march. It is everything I am familiar with, sure, but the emotional beats worked well for me. Of critical note, I didn't feel the need to rush through the game. I was willing to give this game its time, even if I had 280 other games squirming around in the backlog. I can't say every plot point was executed perfectly, but I was sated by the experience. For 30 hours? That's downright economical, as far as an RPG goes.

I'm a little bit baffled as to why this game doesn't seem to have a lot of online groundswell for it. Like, I'm not completely confused. This poor bastard was a sprite-based RPG released in 1997 on the PlayStation. Guess what other game may have been getting more attention. I wonder if the genre flavor may have been off-putting as well. For a long time, Westerns were very out of style for people my generation. Even now, people are going to gravitate more towards a fast-paced shooter rather than an RPG to treat a cowboy itch. I guess those answers are simple enough. Still, it feels shallow.

Oh, well. At least it got to have five games. And a remake, even! That's at least par to the "Breath of Fire" series. Maybe it’s not the best comparison in the world to make, but I'm assuming people at least remember "Breath of Fire" games. And it ended up on the PlayStation Classic, of all things! I mean, that's about as prestigious as being on a doorstop, but it's some kind of accolade. Not even "Castlevania: Symphony of the Night" is on that, and that's one of the most wonderful, beautiful games to ever exist on any console.

If you are a junky for retro RPGs, this game is certainly worth your time! It's efficient and effective with its runtime, managing to meld new ideas and old tropes into its own stew. I'm honestly surprised with how much I enjoyed it. It could be some "Tales of Symphonia" wires crossing over in my head, but hell. It's nice to know there are still gems buried out there. 

[zenatness]

Durge's tiefling party was... interesting.

I walked around, talking to everyone, wondering if anyone was going to mention the suspect markings in blood in the middle of camp. Nobody did. Is this what serial killers feel like when they gift their murder trophies to their loved ones and they walk around wearing them in public, completely oblivious to the ghoulishness of it all?

Kissed Wyll. Chatted up Karlach. Made overly suggestive comments to Halsin. Agreed to have some wine with Shadowheart. Ditched her when Astarion suggested sex. Durge is an asshole, and somehow nobody seems to mind. The whole team absolutely loves him. Approval ratings are in the 60-90s. Somehow. Paladin Tav looks on from a parallel universe in disbelief.

We visited the creche, mostly to steal the blood of Lathander. I was fully ready to nuke Astarion in the process, but it was like he knew what was coming. Not only did he discover a secret compartment but he then managed to roll a nat 20 on the second attempt of opening it and got his hand on the crest. Half-drow Ghaunafein (Durge) got to steal a holy relic of Lathander, Shadowheart got a very shiny mace, Astarion didn't get burned to a crisp, Lae'zel got to go to the creche. Everyone's happy.

Things went sideways and we had to kill the entire creche. Well. Had to is, perhaps, not entirely correct. Choose to go out of our way to do so. And got really irritated that we couldn't find the kids that knocked me over with mage hand despite checking every room, including the nursery. Outrageous.

We turned around and headed into the Underdark where Lae'zel and Shadowheart had an altercation. Our brave leader Ghaunafein took one look at the situation, went "not my problem" and went to bed. Woke up to Shadowheart with a knife at Lae'zel's throat. Still not his problem, please keep it down, good night. Naturally I put Lae'zel's body in the ribcage where I keep all the corpses. It would have been rude to just leave her behind. Shadowheart somehow didn't take this uncaring attitude as a warning sign that getting involved with Ghaunafein was a bad idea, and shortly after invited him to share that bottle of wine again.

The camp started to feel dreadfully empty and it dawned on me that we're going to have issues going forward if my only tank is Karlach. I had but one hope.

I got to act 2 and... alas, Minthara did, in fact, not survive despite surviving the raid.

The disappointment was too much. I downloaded the Daughter of Lolth mod, fought with it until it worked, and now all is well. Turns out, Minthara does not get a new set of clothes if you steal them from her unconscious body so she had to stand trial in her undies. I'm glad I was generous and let her keep those, or that would have been even more uncomfortable for everyone involved. It certainly gave the scene a completely different vibe than I think Larian wanted it to.

Due to the Fighting (tm), I also got to see how much more Ketheric reveals about your past when Minthara is there. It was neat. Get a mad dog to judge a mad dog, indeed. People in Moonrise also keep recognizing Durge though they don't seem to know you, and the gnolls? The gnolls remember you and they like you. We're friends. I'm not sure I can murder my way through the tower now, I want my gnoll pals to survive. Where's the patch that let us recruit them?

I returned to camp and found Halsin just chilling with Minthara in her undies. I like to think that I got a solid 20 approval from him for this, considering his fondness for drow. I somehow did not get approval from Minthara when I gave her both casual clothes and armor though. Probably because I was still walking around in her casual clothes and refused to return them to her.

The trustworthy heart of the party and most desirable man alive. Apparently.

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

ALL OF THE KIDS IN THE LN UNIVERSE (Ln 1, Ln 2, Ln dlc, Vln, Ln comic, and scraped characters!) ARE FORCED TO HAVE A PLAY DATE ALL TOGETHER. How does it go?

Meanwhile, all the adults are doing adult things...like drinking...and taxes...

All the Kids Play Date Day

It's pretty common knowledge that the Four Protags hang out regularly. So, when the other kids found out, they began to riot

I mean...good for them, BUT HOW COME WE CAN'T HANG OUT WITH OUR FRIENDS!?

After much whining and pleading (and maybe some bribing), all the kids were dropped off near the Tower in Pale City

Two reasons for this:

One, ever since the Sleepover at the Nest, the Butler just straight up wasn't having a swarm of rude brats at the mansion

It was a similar reasoning from the Lady at the Maw. She just didn't want to deal with all the children

Two, since the Thin Man does such a good job last time, he can handle everyone

the Thin Man: But...wait- the Butler and the Lady: -dropping off the kids- Have fun~!

Now, the old man is used to handling four little rascals...not 21. He was practically watching a class and he had a lot of work to do, so...

The deal was that the children could play as much as they want, as long as they stay within the city's limits, near the Tower, and NOT get into too much trouble

It was a weird agreement, but nobody saw a reason to object. Mono convinced them to stay away from the Wilderness and the Hospital, and nobody was interesting in checking out the school

That left the rest of the city to explore, which everyone was excited to see. Most of them have heard of Pale City and wanted to see the dilapidated building and sucked-in face people

But, since everyone knew the city could be dangerous, they decided to split into small groups for safety. The groups went as such:

Team 1 (“Team MCs”): Six, the Runaway Kid, Mono Team 2 (“Team the Girls”): the Raincoat Girl, the Pretender, the Long Haired Girl Team 3 (“Team Supernatural”) : the Mummy Kid, the Ghost Kid, the Toddler Team 4 (“Team Mischief Makers”) : the Tall Boy, the Forked Kid, the Strong Boy, the Humpback Girl Team 5 (“Team Green”) : the Green Boy, the Scarf Kid, the Refugee Boy and his Sister Team 6 (“Team Items”) : the Spoon Girl, the Lollipop Kid, the Bread Boy, the Flash Light Girl

Everyone went off in their own direction, but agreed to come back in two hours or if something really bad happens

Team Supernatural went to a nearby park and had a good time playing on the swing set and slides. But, when they got the feeling that they were being watched, they all headed back to the Tower

Team Items were hungry and went to a nearby bakery. Nobody had money, so they stole a bunch of muffins and doughnuts. It almost worked until the Lollipop Kid accidentally dropped the cookie package and drew attention. They ran away back to the Tower early

The Girls wanted to go shopping, or at least look at city fashion. They didn’t have money either, but it didn’t matter. The Pretender deemed everything in the windows to be trash, and got into a slap fight with the Long Haired Girl over some shoes. The Raincoat Girl ended up dragging them both back before they got thrown out

Team Green didn’t know where they wanted to go and ended up strolling around. They stopped to look at a group of Viewers and squeezed their way towards the tv, too. They made it to the front, but the Viewers didn’t like it and chased them back towards the Tower

Team Mischief Makers lived up to their name and played tricks on whoever they found. This ranged from stealing wallets to throwing mudballs at peoples’ heads. The only reason they stopped early was because one of the Tower Eyes appeared on a tv and scared Humpback Girl. Strong Boy punched the screen and the kids decided to head back, since she was experiencing a panic attack

As for Team MCs, they kind of stayed near the Tower. Runaway Kid really wanted to explore the Tower more than the city, but Mono didn’t want to bother the Thin Man at work.

By the time the trio tried to figure out something to do, the rest of the kids came back, either crying or screaming

Six: What the hell happened to you guys?

Everyone: -shouting all at once-

Mono: Um...

There was so much loud talking that the Thin Man opened the doors and appeared annoyed and confused. When he asked what happened, he got the same response

the Thin Man: Guys...I really need to get this edit done by Friday. One at a time...

That sort of worked, but from what he understood, everyone did the exact opposite of what he asked...which was NOT to get into too much trouble

The Thin Man brought everyone inside and ordered a lot of pizza for everyone. He wasn’t mad; annoyed, yes but not furious. If these kids were going to get into trouble, it might as well be in the Tower where nothing escapes his eyes...

The children were allowed to explore the Tower, as long as they kept off live floors. Everyone was sycned to check out the Tower, but the Thin Man gave a special order to the Eyes

If any child disobeyed his orders, scare them

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[strayen-fx]

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

[awindylife-writes]

S4e7 Silence in the Library Part 2

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, River x reader (platonic), River x Doctor (platonic), Donna x reader (platonic), Donna x Doctor (platonic)

Summary: rewrite of S4e7 Silence in the library and S4e8 Forest of the dead. No romantic Doctor x River, l'm sorry. The Doctor, Donna and you find yourselves in the biggest library in the universe. You meet a woman called River Song, and then the shadows turn against you.

Warning: mentions of death, people are eaten by the shadows, River dies

"It's a carnivourus swarm, you can't reason with it!" River yelled at the Doctor.

"Five minutes!" Of course he wanted to talk to Vashta Nerada. What were you expecting?

"Y/N, you come with me," she ordered then. If there was one thing she could do, then by god she would keep you safe.

"Other Dave, stay with the Doctor, pull him out when he's too stupid to live. The rest of you, follow me!"

~

"You know, l keep wishing you were here. That you and the Doctor were here." River was kneeling with you by the circular trap door. The room was, for the time being, clear of shadows.

"But we are. River, l'm here," you assured her.

She opened her mouth, and then stopped. She looked at the floor and started again. "You know when you see a photograph of someone you know, but it's from years before you knew them. And it's like... like they're not finished, they're- they're not done yet." She took a deep breath.

"Well..." This is where she met your eyes. She looked broken. "Yes, the Doctor is here. You are here, you came when l called like you always do."

River sighed and you knew that what was coming would break you too. "But not my Y/N.You're not mine," she admitted, shaking her head. Tears welled up in your eyes. "And he's not my Doctor."

She went on, because she had to. If she stopped, you didn't know what would happen to the two of you. "I've seen whole armies turn and run away, and he'd just swagger off, back to his TARDIS and open the doors with a snap of his fingers." She snapped hers now.

"Y/N Y/S," she called you, "with the Doctor, in the TARDIS. Next stop everywhere," she whispered to you close.

"Spoilers," the Doctor's hollow voice rang out, echoing in the room. You and River whirled around.

He started descending the stairs. "Nobody can open a TARDIS by snapping their fingers." He jumped the railing, "Doesn't work like that."

He walked by you, but River's calm voice stopped him. "It does for the Doctor."

"I am the Doctor," he told her with sudden anger in his voice.

She just nodded sadly, "Yeah, someday."

~

"Lux will manage without me. You can't." River surged past you and nocked the Doctor out with a quick blow to the head. She looked at you and you knew she was ready. She brought her fists up for a second time.

"River," you begged.

"I have to," she told you with tears in her voice.

"River, you know his name," you begged her to understand. "He needs you." He doesn't need me. At least not as much as you.

"Oh. Oh no," she started shaking her head, eyes wide. She had known this was going to be a problem. "Oh no, no-no-no-no." She couldn't stop her head from shaking, all of her was just going No.

She rubbed her face with her hand then looked at the ceiling for a second to collect herself. Her gaze came back to you. "Right, Y/N, listen. We don't have a lot of time, so - he needs you more." She went on before you could object. "And even if he didn't," her blue eyes went soft, "l love you too much to let you die."

You didn't know what to do. This wasn't what you had expected, so you just stood there for a second.

She brought her hand up and softly caressed your cheek, now so much closer than before. "You're staying," she told you, almost like an order. "And l'm not." Her voice was final and her eyes- loving and utterly fond, shattered and strong eyes and how were you going to let her go?

"River l-" Before you said anything else her eyes were back to how they had been - determined.

"Either you let me tie you up or l'm knocking you out," she told you, the hardness in her eyes reflected in her voice. "And l know you, so don't think you'll win that fight." She was tense, shoulders rigid and arms up, as if waiting for you to attack.

You would never, and you knew her enough to know she was right. The whole truth of this situation came crashing down on you.

"Let me stay," you asked, voice certain but throat tight. "Tie me up, but let me stay with you." Hot tears welled up in your eyes and blurred your vision.

"Hands," she commanded, and you brought them up at once. She hurriedly chained you to the pipe in the wall, then did the same with the unconscious Doctor.

~

"You wouldn't have a chance and neither do l!" River's desparate voice rang out.

Your tears had dried and you refused to shed any more.

"River please, no," the Doctor begged.

"Funny thing is, this means you've always known how l was going to die. All the time we've been together you both knew l was coming here." Her voice trembled.

"The last time l saw you two, the real you, the future you, you showed up on my doorstep, all dressed up." She smiled and nodded to herself. "You took me to Derillium, to see the Singing Towers. Oh, what a night that was. The towers sang, and you both cried. You wouldn't tell me why, but l suppose you knew it was time. My time, time to come to the library. He even gave me his screwdriver," she nodded at the Doctor and smiled sadly. "That should've been a clue."

"River-" you began, trembling. This can't be happening no please nonono-

"There is nothing you can do," she told you gently.

The Doctor was still struggling, tugging desparately on his handcuffs no matter what pain it caused him. "Let me do this!" he begged in tears.

"If you die here it'll mean l never met you!" she answered with just as much desparation.

"Time can be rewritten!"

"Not those times, not one line, don't you dare!" There was something final in her voice. You took the Doctor's hand and he pulled you closer. He put his free arm around you and held you tightly.

"It's okay, its okay, it's not over for you two," she told you, voice oh so gentle. "You'll see me again.You've got all of that to come,"  she whispered, but the words echoed in your mind. "You, and me, time and space," she sighed. "You watch us run."  There was such strength in her then you could only watch in awe. Then a single tear appeared in the corner of her eye.

"River, you know my name." The Doctor had to stop after such a sentence. "You whispered my name in my ear. There's only one reason l could ever tell anyone my name. There's only one time l could." Trembles wracked his body, his hair waving in the air.

"Husssh now," she whispered to him and smiled. "Spoilers." Her tear was now glistening on her cheek.

"And you're wrong," she told you, her blue eyes suddenly holding yours. River knew who you thought she was, but the Doctor could tell someone his name if they were family, it was broader than just romantic love. That would have been an awful way to live.

"Just remember, you're wrong."

What? "Three." You could suddenly hear the countdown. "Two. One."

"RIVER!" you screamed her name with everything you had as she connected the handles. Your vision went white.

The Doctor pressed you into his chest. He had turned around to shield you from the flare.

When it passed, he held you to him as you both sobbed.

~

"Why! Why would l give her my screwdriver, why would l do that?!? Thing is, future me used to think about it. All those years to think of a way to save her! What he did was give her a screwdriver! Why would l do that!?!?" The Doctor held the thing in question up, staring at it like a madman.

You were grinning. Hope really was like the sun.

He took off the lid, and there they were. The green lights in a row - River's life. You could fly.

"Oh," the Doctor breathed.

"Oh."

"Oh!"

"Look at that! I'm very good!"

"What-" Donna started.

"Saved her," you told her and tugged on the Doctor's arm.

You ran.

~

In the end, you stood in front of the TARDIS, side by side with the Doctor. He looked at you, similing so wide it reached his brown eyes.

You smiled back and brought your hand up in sync with his.

Two snaps were heard as one, and the TARDIS door opened.

[littlemissnoname13]

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part one

Summary: Draco and y/n find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every single night.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin! reader (implied pure blood for the storyline to work)

Warnings: Excessive smoking, mature language, mature themes, no full fledged smut till now. Also please remember that the characters have all been aged up in all of my stories.

18+ Content

A/n: A pack of cigarettes on my desk seduced me into writing this one (smoking is injurious to health)

Word count: 3000

Monday

To say that Draco Malfoy was your friend was a bit of an exaggeration.

The two of you tolerated each other at most.

Having grown up in the same friend circle that consisted of Theo, Blaise, Pansy, you’d both learned how to remain perfectly civil.

Of course, it wasn’t always that easy.Sometimes the blonde git got on your last nerve.

Just last week, Theo had to pull him back by his robe and Pansy had to clutch tightly onto your arm because you and Draco were this close to hexing each other’s faces off.

And today Blaise looked anything but pleased about his choice of seat at your Potions class. The boy who donned a calm, cool and collected—almost condescending expression on most days leaned against the table in a bracing position while you and Draco yelled at each other from his left and right.

“You have to stir it twice. Clockwise.” Draco scoffed rolling his eyes as he watched you stir your Draught of Living Death potion.

“Clockwise y/n—No! no! No— y/n you are doing it all wrong. That’s anti-clockwise! Can you get any more stupid?! Merlin!”

“Why don’t you do it yourself instead of sitting over there, crossing your fucking arms and barking out instructions.” You shot back getting angrier by the minute.

“You should be glad I’m here to give you instructions. If it were up to you, the whole classroom would be up in flames by now.” He said icily, picking up a Sopophorous bean and observing it.

“In case you haven’t noticed already, I never asked for your help Malfoy!”

“And I did not ask to work with you and Zabini on this stupid potion y/l/n.”

“And I most certainly did not ask to be put in between two bickering children but here I am. Life isn’t fair now is it?!” Blaise snapped causing you both to retreat back into your seats.

That’s how your days usually went by.

And your nights...well your nights weren’t particularly any better. In fact, it was always the same old routine.

You stared up at the ceiling and focused on the creaking sound your bed made while your long time boyfriend Adrian Pucey chased his release on top of you.

He was always a blubbering, sweaty mess and you lightly stroked his hair and closed your eyes wondering why you felt nothing at all.

You were devoid of all emotion and pleasure—wondering if you were broken.

There was no pleasure and no pain.

And after Adrian’s quick departure, your room reeked of sex and sweat and your pillow would sometimes be wet with tears.

Sex with Adrian felt like nothing at all even though you loved him.

Adrian was gentle, almost too gentle and you had come to a conclusion that orgasms and passionate sex that left you wanting for more was nothing but a myth.

You channeled all the energy you had left into slipping your clothes back on. You lethargically wiped at your mascara stained cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater before slamming your door shut behind you.

Discreetly, you exited the dungeons and let your feet guide you all the way towards an empty and abandoned classroom with a huge window and a windowsill wide enough for sitting.

Nobody really paid much attention to the classroom and going there felt like hiding in plain sight. Going there in the middle of the night had somewhat become a night time ritual for you.

You quickly got comfortable on the moonlit windowsill and took deep calming breaths—filling your lungs up with the air around you.

The air had a stench of nicotine these past few weeks and It hurt your head at first. But now, you’d learned to ignore it.

Everything felt silent and tranquil for a brief moment until you started to hear moans and groans coming from the other side of the classroom door.

The sounds made your blood freeze and you closed your eyes, mumbling an inaudible prayer to the universe. The last thing you needed was an awkward encounter with the people making out on the other side of the door.

It didn’t take very long before the door started to creak and shake violently.

The creaking only got louder and louder. As did the moaning and groaning and cursing.

Soon, the shaking of the door came to an abrupt halt followed by a shrill post-coital giggle.

You closed your eyes and finally heaved a huge sigh of relief when you heard the pitter patter footsteps walking away from the room.

“What the fuck are you doing here y/l/n?” A familiar voice startled you and you held your breath hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

You opened only one eye and looked at the door that had been flung open.

Draco Malfoy stood on the other side of the now open door with the buckle of his belt still undone, his shirt all disheveled and his silver hair in a state of disarray from being yanked on.

“I would ask you the same question but it’s best if you don’t tell me.” You gagged.

The corners of his lips twisted into a typical Malfoy-esque smirk as he used his thumb to wipe his bottom lip.

“Well, would you like me to show you instead?”

“Smooth.” You muttered, letting out a sarcastic chuckle at his words while he sat down next to you on the windowsill.

Malfoy was the last person you wanted to see that night. Especially after Potions class.

Even though you were looking out the window, you felt his eyes linger on you through your peripheral vision. He was drenched in the moonlight seeping in through the large window giving his place skin a pearlescent glow.

Although Malfoy had maintained an unreadable expression on his face, his prying eyes gave everything away.

“Pucey?” He finally said.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been crying haven’t you?” He asked, lifting your chin up with his index finger and observing the redness around your nose and the puffiness around your eyes.

“Since when do you care?” You jeered, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I don’t.” He shrugged abruptly pulling his hand back—letting your face fall.

He turned towards the window, put a cigarette between his lips and lit it up. After taking a long drag, he tilted his head around to look at you again. “I just don’t think Pucey is worth crying over. If you’re crying over hi—”

“Merlin’s beard Malfoy! It’s you. You’ve been smoking your stupid cigarettes here haven’t you?” You cut him off with your eyes widening in realisation.

“I have.”

“And all this time I thought I was hallucinating the smell of smoke.”

“Sorry to break it to you y/l/n but I’ve been coming here since the fourth year.”

Wisps of smoke came out of his mouth and drifted all the way to the tip of your nose when he exhaled.

“I come here all the time.” He continued. “Sometimes alone and sometimes—”

“You bring a poor naive girl here for a quickie.” you finished his sentence coughing and swatting the air around you. “Who were you shagging outside anyway?” You asked, arching your eyebrows.

“Since when do you care?” He retorted.

“Touché.”

~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

“That poor girl you were with last night sounded like she was in pain.” You commented the next night dangling your legs outside the window as Draco stood next you, smoking.

“I am assuming Pucey is horrible in bed then.” He snickered making your cheeks heat up.

“He isn’t horrible.” You protested as he inspected the slightest amount of dust gathered in the corner of the windowsill paying little to no attention to you.

“He’s just…” you trailed off in your pathetic attempt to justify Adrian’s subpar bedroom skills.

“Go on love.” He mocked, lighting up another cigarette and extending his hand to offer you one. "Tell me."

"You are the last person I wanna discuss my sex life with.” You snapped pushing his hand along with the pack of cigarettes away from you.

~~~~~~~~

Wednesday

You gathered your hair up and threw on a silk robe over your slip dress and walked towards your usual spot in the abandoned classroom.

You found yourself subconsciously waiting for Draco to show up as you leaned against the glass window.

After a few minutes, he was quietly standing next to you staring outside the window that overlooked the school courtyard.

He placed a cigarette between his lips and turned to look at you. “You want one?”

You shook your head as you watched him light the one between his lips up—observing the way he inhaled and the way wisps of smoke came out of his mouth.

The wisps drifted your way and you didn’t even bother to fan it away.

Instead you took a sharp breath.

It felt like your brain was slowly associating the scent of smoke with him.

“Didn’t find anybody to shag tonight?” You asked in a feeble attempt to break the silence.

This made him turn his head to look at you—the true blue specks in his otherwise grey eyes glistened in cool tones and you felt a strange ache inside of you.

“Nope. Not anyone that I’d like to shag anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t be surprised if I find you loitering around the Ravenclaw tower in a few nights—considering you have been with every other Slytherin girl I know.”

He shot you a bone chilling glare before flashing a devious looking grin.

“You’re in Slytherin.” Draco drawled, taking a step towards you.

“Your point?” You looked at him quizzically, taking a step back but Draco took a step towards you for every step you took away from him until you felt the coolness of the wall behind your back.

His palms rested on the wall on either side of your face as he stared down at you with his glacial eyes— the mere intensity of his gaze made you want to look away.

It was just too much.

The way his shirt was unbuttoned at the top and the way platinum colored strands of hair fell onto his face helped you understand why girls pined over him. You tried so very hard to hold your breath but failed in miserable fashion has his face inched closer and closer to you.

He let his slender fingertips trail on your waves before tucking the stray bits behind your ears.

“I hardly think I’ll find myself at the Ravenclaw tower anytime soon.” He raspily whispered into your ears.

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

Thursday

He was in a rather foul mood that night.

Quidditch practice in the rain had gone on for a bit too long and to top it all off, his father had paid him a visit right after.

“Is everything alright Draco?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest and turning to face the exhausted looking boy standing next to you, with his hair still damp from his shower.

“Just perfect.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” You commented running your eyes up and down his frame, earning a disdainful scoff from him. “Anyway, how was quidditch practice? Adrian was telling me it got quite intense today.”

“Well well, looks like someone is feeling rather chatty tonight.”

“Okay, nevermind the quidditch talk. How’s Narscissa? My mum owled me about the upcoming New year's ball at your Manor—something about an announcement.” You scratched your head trying to remember what the letter said as you looked at him again. The bare minimum light cast soft, fuzzy looking shadows on his angular features.

“You aren’t usually this annoying. Is there any way you will stop with your ramblings!?” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before fumbling with his pocket to pull out another cigarette.

You quickly stood from the windowsill and reached for a very distraught looking Draco’s hand.

“We don't have to talk if you don’t want to, Draco.” You said quietly as you looked up at him.

“Then what do you suggest we do hm, y/n?” He asked more or less rhetorically as he pulled you towards him.

You thought you’d forgotten how to breathe by the way he said your name. You weren’t particularly fond of your name but the way he said it made you want to thank your parents for picking out your name—the same name he said so smoothly and easily, with tension and emphasis on all the right places.

“I—I was thinking we could just quietly sit out here—maybe open up the window and breathe in some fresh air. It's rather pleasant for a rainy night don't you think?” You babbled.

At your mention of a pleasant night, he turned away from you to face the window, occasionally surveying the half smoked cigarette between his fingers as you opened the window.

“We could do that actually.” Draco finally said in a calm voice, taking a prolonged drag from his cigarette from the corner of his mouth and tossing it carelessly to the ground before stomping on it. “Or—”

“Or?”

“Or....” He said with his silver eyes muddled and darkened into an opaque grey. “We could just do this.”

You couldn't even begin to comprehend why or even how, but his nicotine infused lips softly came crashing down onto yours making your heart pound loudly against your ribcage. The way he pressed his lips to yours—the connection made you lightheaded.

What was even more surprising was the fact that you kissed him back even harder.

Compiling to all of his requests.

When he nipped your bottom lip, you parted your mouth.

When his tongue met yours, you moaned softly into this mouth.

When he cupped your face to draw you in closer as his tongue seduced, tantalized, licked, and sucked, you surrendered.

The sweetness of your lips only made him want you more as he wondered how he had gone so long without his lips pressed up against yours, his thumb gently yet possessively caressing your cheek.

And now that he’d gotten a taste, he wasn't sure he could make do without it.

He wanted this.

He needed this.

There was something so sublime, so achingly beautiful about kissing your lips that a million different thoughts encircled his mind.

Why did it suddenly feel like his thirst was gradually being quelled by the way your mouth, your breathing, your pulse melded into his?

Your fingertips intertwining with the hair on the nape of his neck pacified him.

This was unfamiliar territory.

You were both treading uncharted waters and yet, there was something soothing and familiar about the way he ran his hands up and down your sides, feeling and remembering your curves.

“That ought to keep you quiet y/n.” He whispered, his voice hoarse and saturated with yearning as he pulled away.

The rain outside had transformed into a tempestuous storm and the wind brought in splatters of rain drops inside the classroom window colliding against both of your skin and clothes.

You turned your head to look outside. “Looks like the weather is no longer pleasant.”

His eyes mirrored the flash of lighting that lit up the night sky in shades of lilac, yellow and violet back at you as the sky roared.

“But I kinda like the storm you kno—” Your attempt to finish your sentence was futile.

Lightning struck again but this time in the depths of your heart as his cold, damp, rain-soaked lips brushed against yours in an urgent fashion. The way he aggressively moved his lips made you see more colours than just lilac, yellow and violet.

Magnificent shades of cerulean, emerald, crimson, and burgundy. You could see them all.

"I have pictured kissing you a thousand times over in my mind." he murmured into the kiss while the hand he had placed on your waist trailed down to your hips.

“Draco.” You mewled as your hands found their way to the back of his shirt, gripping onto the fabric tightly for support while you let his ravenous mouth place kisses along your jaw and clavicles.

"You drive me...mmmm... fucking insane y/n. You make me.. mmm..so fucking furious" He whispered between kisses with his fingertips digging into your skin hidden under layers of fabric.

"As do you. I know..hmmmm..the difference...fuck...between clockwise and...mmhh..Anticlockwise." You said breathlessly pulling him flush against you.

Draco backed you further into the wall and his fingertips lingered on the string of your silk robe and you guided his hands through the knots and tangles of the string and let the robe fall onto the floor.

He found his way underneath your slip dress and let his hands roam around your bare flesh turning you into a whimpering mess.

Your own hands trailed to the buttons of his shirt as the aching need to feel his bare skin grew.

And when his shirt did hit the ground, you greedily ran your hands all over his firm chest and toned abdomen— your mouth watering while the flimsy fabric of your panties turned damp.

When he felt you palm the tent forming in his trousers, he smirked and the kiss came to an abrupt stop and his eyes fluttered open.

He pressed his forehead against yours—shoulders rising and falling from his heavy breathing.

"Not yet. " He murmured with his breathing still laboured.

"Draco—"

He shut you up with another kiss before backing away and walking towards the door.

"Good night y/n." He smirked, fixing his clothes as he stood near the door.

“Uh, good night?!” You mumbled, dumfounded.

"y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him.

To be continued.....

~~~~~~

Part 2 teaser:

"Took you long enough." Draco breathed,holding you tightly against him as he desperately ran his hands along your sides feeling the fabric of your silky nightdress.

"I was going to stay away. I tried so fucking hard." You whispered, and he instantly placed his lips onto yours furrowing his brows as you fiercely kissed him back.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @maybesandohnos ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~

Message me if you want to be on my tag list.

[qslovebot]

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

[shades-of-stony]

Time Travel Stony Fanfic

Character from the Future travels to the Past 

A Shadow Hanging Over Our Fate by CaptainDean13

Summary: The Avengers get sent back in time to WWII where they run into the Howling Commandos... complete with Bucky and Steve. Little hard to explain that away, especially when you are trying to keep some major secrets. Secrets like how you ended up in the future and why the hell Bucky is now a scary (reformed) assassin with a metal arm, not to mention that you married your friend's son.

Note: A 1000/10 READ. THIS IS SO FREAKIN’ GOOD THAT I READ IT 3 TIMES SINCE I FIRST FOUND IT LAST YEAR. It’s a nice and well written time travel fic with the howling commandos and past Steve and Bucky!!

A New Way For Us by ann2who

Summary: They fight Thanos—and they’re losing. And before Tony knows what’s happening, he’s standing with Doctor Strange in front of the Eye of Agamotto and gets send back in time. Can he find a way to fix things this time around, or are they doomed to fall apart all over again?

Note: This is where Tony went back in time to fix everything that went wrong and prepare for the arrival of Thanos! Due to an unexpected twist of fate, he found himself getting closer to Steve of all people!  

Two More Miracles (To Be A Saint) by queenpenthesilea

Summary: “Get up, Stark, you sleep too much. You said you would teach me paper football.”

Tony’s eyes snapped open. No. No. Had it all been a dream? Had he just imagined five years – five years - of an idyllic life, complete with a beautiful, wonderful daughter? He pushed himself up, looking around; he was on the Milano – he was on the fucking Milano, and either this was a really weird version of hell or everything had been a dream. Or, a little voice whispered, something had gone horribly, horribly wrong with the infinity stones.

Note: A nice and juicy post-Endgame Time Travel fanfic!! Though, this one held a few what ifs. 

Saving the World is a 12 Step Program by janonny

Summary: Tony and Steve fall to pieces when Thanos’ wins.

Then they pick themselves up, and find a solution. They also find something infinitely more precious in the process.

-

“It’s going to sound pretty outrageous,” Tony admitted, rubbing a hand over his brow. While he had put on some weight and wasn’t as gaunt anymore, he was still easily tired nowadays.

“More outrageous than talking racoons and a purple villain traveling through space to collect magic stones?” Steve asked drily.

Note: This is another post-Endgame fanfic but with a twist and different take on the whole time travel!

Oh, Snap by wedelia

Summary: Peter wakes up, and he’s simultaneously five years too early and right on time.

Or, Post-Endgame Peter goes back in time and accidentally-on-purpose gets Steve and Tony together before the initial snap happens. And, oh, yeah—he also recruits a former-Air-Force-pilot-turned-galactic-hero, has lunch with Black Widow, and somehow befriends Nick Fury. This changes things.

Note: It’s Peter who time travels this time around!!

If We Never Got This Second Chance by Pookaseraph

Summary: When Tony and Steve’s son from the future, Jake Jensen, arrives at Avenger’s Tower, the two of them are forced to confront some hard truths: Tony that he might not actually become a horrible father, and Steve that he might not be able to set aside his discomfort with sharing a child with another man. When they both get a second chance at a first try at fatherhood, it’s up to the two of them to learn from their own future's past.

Note: Anyone up for some future son time travel? Enjoy this nicely written fanfic of Stony’s future son traveling and meeting the past versions of his parents! Past versions that are not even together yet! Things are about to get weird for Steve and Tony. 

Your Name on Every Wall by Sineala

Summary: The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.

Note: A unique plot where Steve travels to the future and realizes what he is missing on!

Together, At Dawn by RoseGoldAmpersand

Summary: Steve returns the Infinity Stones to New York and finds himself in conversation with Tony of the past. More mature and willing to listen to Tony he realises that what he previously thought were taunts was actually Tony flirting with him.

In light of this new discovery and alone in Tony’s workshop after the battle of New York, one thing leads to another...

Note: ohhhhh, some juicy smut anyone?

  Don't Look Back, You Can Never Look Back. by iL0Vsuperman

Summary: Tony Stark: billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and, now, superhero.

It’d only been a few months prior that he’d revealed to the world he was Iron Man and life couldn’t be better.

That is…until he stumbled upon an old abandoned Hydra lab and kinda set off one of their machines by accident. A blast of blue light later and he found himself in the same lab…only it is seventy years earlier and it is full of Hydra agents.

Cue the entrance of the Howling Commandos led by Tony’s childhood hero, Captain America.

Suddenly, Tony is living out a dream. He’s joining up with the Commandos in the search to get Tony back to his right era. It’s the adventure of a lifetime and, at first, it’s amazing…but then he and Steve connect in ways more than just friendship and he finds that he is torn between wanting to stay with him or go back home.

In the end, whatever the result, he loses.

Note: Tony meets his childhood heroes-the Howling Commandos and Captain America! 

The Future is Yet in Your Power by FestiveFerret

Summary: "Now." Wong leaned back in his chair. "What would you do to save this world from Thanos' attack? What would you sacrifice?"

"Anything," Steve said. "Anything at all."

Wong considered him for a moment, expression unreadable. "There's one thing, maybe."

Note: This is nice fanfic about Steve putting everything on the line to hopefully make a change. 

The Good or Bad Thing by petreparkour for SeetheSea

summary: “It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.“

Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

Note: Future Tony and Steve accidentally traveling in the past!

  Character from the Past travels to the Future

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Note: ANGST! READY YOUR TISSUES.

Twice Upon a Time by TsaritsaElena

Summary: Tony Stark has never had an easy relationship with his father, but when Howard Stark circa 1983 time travels to the future in a freak accident, things get even more complicated, especially since Tony is dating his dad’s idol, Captain America, and Howard doesn’t know. As they work toward a solution that will restore Howard to his own timeline, will Tony get a second chance at a father-son relationship with his dad, or is he in for more of the same unforgiving treatment from Howard? Time travel, Avengers missions, and a secret project of Howard’s: things at Stark Tower are about to get a little crazy.

Note: SOME MORE ANGST AND HOWARD TRAVELLING TO THE FUTURE. 

The Future Is Ours (Whether We Want It Or Not) by ann2who

Summary: After a hit from the Time Stone, Steve switches places with his future self.

Note: Another of Steve traveling to the future! Though this time, it features both timeline! Both POV of the past and future! 

Ordinary Men by RiaRose

Summary: "Aren't you at all happy to see me?" Howard shot back, holding his glass out and pointing with his index finger. At Steve's stony face, he dropped his arm. "Want a glass?" he tried, picking up an empty tumbler, "This is good stuff."

"Tony doesn't skimp on - well - anything. And no, thank you."

"Was that Tony?" he queried, gesturing toward the hallway the other man had disappeared down. Steve nodded but didn't give any more information, so Howard repeated his earlier question, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

It took Steve a moment to answer. Howard could see his jaw working. 

"No, not anymore."

OR

In which Howard travels to the future and just messes up everybody's day, Steve is conflicted, and Tony is a piping hot mess, as per usual. It's not going to be easy, but Steve and Tony have to somehow navigate through Howard's arrival and the strain it puts on their relationship.

Note: From the summary alone, you can tell that THIS WILL BE ANGSTY. 

To Have My Time Again... by WilmaKins

Summary: It's been two years since Siberia, and Tony Stark is still dealing with the fallout - personal and political. Life is quite complicated enough, without Bruce falling through a wizards roof yelling that Thanos is coming.

Thor and Loki are stalling, but time is running out. The fate of the universe is at stake. Steve Rogers is back in the picture. Really, the last thing Tony needs is for their plan to go horribly wrong and bring Howard Stark forward in time.

But his Dad *is* standing in his office, whether he likes it or not.

So, it looks like Tony will have to fix that mess too.

Note: There is just something about Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfics. 

Howard Stark Meets The Avengers by SerlinaBlack

Summary: Howard Stark unknowingly travels to the future with his son and wife. Luckily the heroes of the future were somewhat ready for it. Unluckily , they don't seem to like him very much

Alternative summery: when will Howard learn? Not now lmao.

Note: ANOTHER ONE.

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 1: Hand in My Pocket

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter's not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he'd always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn't want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

—-

The red glare of the setting sun set the City That Never Sleeps in a persistent glow as the last of the golden rays disappeared behind the pillars of the city, outlining every shadow. There was the silhouette of buildings, of cars racing along the road, of people stalking down the street in the usual New York bustle, and there was the shadow of Spider-Man as he swung overhead. Not that it was really his shadow.

Where there should have been a perfect replica of the boy clinging to a web as he dipped low (one that outlined his lumpy goggles and rumpled suit) there was instead the poofiness of fluffed up hair and sharp slacks. The movements of the shadow replicated the boy, like they were supposed to, but nothing else indicated that this shadow belonged to the vigilante swinging through the street.

And Peter liked it that way.

Observing the difference between people's shadow had always been a game to the boy, to watch a thin woman walk around while a curvy figure followed her, or too see a little boy being tracked by the silhouette of a tutu and puffy hair. Until very recently, the teenager had loved to stare at his Aunt and Uncle's shadows whenever he could, always fascinated by the way they reflected each other with a broad smile on his face.

Now, though, neither of them had shadows, and Peter didn't smile as often. He didn't feel like there was much reason to. It had been his fault, after all. His fault they'd never get to see flashes of each other when their shadows disappeared in the dark, his fault they'd never walk under the sun with their shadows in line with the other. It was his fault they'd bled out in an alley so dark their shadows hadn't even been there to comfort them as they left.

Spider-Man rattled an anxious, forced breath through his tight lungs as he propelled himself upwards on his webs. He instinctively looked for the taped together watch he kept on his webshooter to catch the time, though he knew he had plenty. Still, after his last time missing curfew at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, he wasn't anxious to repeat the experience. And he did have to swing across the bridge to make his way back to Queens since he'd branched out to Manhattan for the night.

The cracked watch read that it was barely seven, though, so Peter still had a few hours before he had to be back. Mr. Fowler didn't care much what they did as long as they were back before ten, unless it was one of his "days," which really just meant he was as drunk as a skunk and completely willing to smack a few boys upside their head and be unreasonably dickish about the rules. But other than that, Peter was usually left to his own devices to patrol around the streets of his city and try everything in his power to make up for what had happened barely six months ago.

But it would never be enough.

Peter stopped on top of a billboard that clung to the side of a building, landing clumsily and only barely managing to slip his fingers around the poster for a new movie. His world swam--just a little bit--as he regained his bearings. He shook his head at the dizziness that had become a constant ever since moving to live at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but it wasn't like it was their fault. All the boys were reasonably well-cared for, with regular mealtimes, a generous curfew, and easy access to schools, but they weren't really equipped to deal with Peter.

The teenager held back a sigh as his stomach grumbled painfully. He'd eaten the last of his stash of granola bars that he'd bought after a tourist he'd helped had forced a few bills on him. He didn't like taking money, but he couldn't deny that those bars had helped for the two weeks that he'd made them stretch.

Forcing down a hungry grumble of annoyance, Peter turned to survey his shadow instead, the one that had always been the same. Ever since he could remember. Even when he'd been in kindergarten, there'd been the tall and protective shadow of his soulmate behind him. Despite everything, and despite how selfish it felt, it was comforting to look down and see that familiar crop of hair. He reached a hand up to touch his head, never quite used to the way his fingers brushed up against cloth but the shadow underneath him swept through fluffed up tufts.

His soulmate's hair today was messy, not as poofed up as it usually was. Today must be a casual day for him or something, which weren't very often, but when they did occur they often lasted for days. Other days he could make out the outline of glasses and the sharp angles of clothing that made him think of a business suit, though he couldn't be sure. They were only a shadow after all. Peter wondered what his soulmate thought about his own shadow, if he'd noticed anything odd, but, then again, Peter's shadow probably just looked like he was wearing a hoodie all the time, and maybe what could pass as some pretty obnoxious glasses. He'd used to have those anyway.

Peter tilted his head, enjoying the way the hair on the sidewalk underneath him flopped with him. For some reason, Peter found it very amusing when one had hair showing and the other didn't. It just looked a little ridiculous. Recently, it had been the teenager who had been donning the hoodie over his head, but Peter assumed that his soulmate was usually wearing something too. More often than not, he'd look down to see the hair gone, covered by a sharp outline that really had him questioning his soulmate's fashion sense.

The thought brought a snicker to his lips. He nestled more comfortably atop the billboard. There hadn't been any good action in a while anyway.

"Where do you think we should go next?" he asked aloud, and he didn't know if he was asking himself or the shadow of his soulmate underneath. He didn't know why, but he'd always felt like they'd give really good advice. "There hasn't really been much going on, and I haven't seen any of those alien-weapon guys since the knock-off Avengers robbed that bank. Maybe we could try and find out whoever you are again. That'd be kind of fun."

'Kind of fun.' Yeah, right. It was the only thing Peter looked forward to anymore.

Before, he'd always been excited to graduate, to go through college and apply to Stark Industries, his Aunt and Uncle's smiles egging him on the entire way. He'd looked forward to band and robotics and, while he'd stayed, decathlon too. It wasn't as fun as it had been before, but Ned was still there. Liz too. They were nice, and it was good to see their smiles and hear their occasional pitying encouragement that usually only pissed him off (not that he'd ever let them know, they were just trying to help after all), but they weren't what Peter was looking for.

Then again, Peter wasn't 100% he knew what he was looking for either.

He was pretty sure his soulmate was something to look forward to. Ben and May had always described what it felt like to find your soulmate, to be able to stare at shadows your entire life until you found who you were looking for. You would touch their hand and your shadows would switch, and when you let go, the shadow remained to your universe approved bond again. The satisfaction of finally piecing together the flashes you got whenever both shadows disappeared into the darkness. It was something Aunt May and Uncle Ben had always enticed him about, always encouraged.

Maybe if he could find his soulmate, everything would be better. Everything would be perfect, like May and Ben had always proclaimed.

But that was childish, and Peter knew it. Soulmates didn't fix everything, and meeting his soulmate certainly wouldn't improve his situation. They were a regular person with a regular life. He was a second-rate vigilante that had been orphaned twice. Besides, nothing could really help Peter. Not that he needed help. He just needed to grow out of the system so he could make something that actually felt like life rather than the scraping by that it had become.

By the time Peter moved from his spot, it was because his shadow had dimmed with the entrance of New York darkness. He stood up, barely able to make out the faintness of his soulmate, and flicked his wrist out. He still had a little bit before he had to be back at the group home, so he reckoned he'd be fine. He'd be back in time that Mr. Fowler wouldn't give him another strike and he could still eat dinner. He'd do his homework, go to bed, and the next day would be the same horrible numbness of before.

"Any ideas on where the best crime is, Matey?" he asked his shadow, "Maybe superpowers can leech over to soulmates. That'd be really cool actually. Soulologists haven't been able to prove anything other than memory flashes. We could break that entire field of study if that were true."

His soulmate, of course, didn't answer. But the scuffle of a fight and a warped sound unlike anything the teenager had ever heard, did.

 ---

 Tony glanced around his emptying lab, a tired glint in his eyes as he did. Large portions of the tower had been emptied and organized into large crates as they anticipated the move from the tower to the compound. Most of his lab had stayed the same throughout the process, as staff weren't allowed up here, leaving it mostly up to the billionaire himself to pack up his things. Glancing around at the piles of disheveled work and unfinished projects, he might have to get some help anyway. Or, if he started packing now, he'd have plenty of time to do it by himself.

He turned back to the suit he was working on.

The horribly challenging nanoparticles as part of his newest suit were barely coming together. It was incredibly difficult, which made it the most fun thing he'd worked on in a while, which also meant he'd been working on it for two days straight. It was a good thing Pepper was working in another country at the moment and wasn't there to make him go to bed or take a break or anything worthless like that. Then again, he guessed Pepper wasn't the only one with the power to do that.

"Sir," Friday started, "You are approaching your extent of working without a break. I suggest you go to sleep."

"I'm almost done, girl," he replied at the same moment the gauntlet he was working on sparked. He hissed in pain as he withdrew his newly burnt fingers, his vision swimming slightly. He blinked furiously to clear the dark spots from his sight. "Okay, maybe a break isn't such a bad idea."

"Great choice, sir."

"Don't patronize me," he scolded, grabbing a nearby jacket to throw over his stained shirt and a pair of sunglasses despite the late hour, "I'm taking a break, not going to sleep. Keep the lab running for me, I'm gonna go grab a coffee."

"Might I suggest a calming tea instead?"

"You most certainly may not."

Tony stepped into the brightly lit elevator, staring down at his shadow as he usually did when he was alone. The sight of the usual hoodie brought a smile to his face. His soulmate must have a hoodie addiction as strong as his coffee one, though he usually preferred whenever he could see the kid's curly hair before it was eventually tamed down by what he guessed was a godly amount of hair gel.

His soulmate had turned fifteen recently, he knew. August tenth was the first day he'd had a shadow, one of a tiny baby curled up at his feet. He remembered fondly what it had felt like to look down one random morning and see the dark blob at his feet, the confusion and the joy as he'd realized it moved with him. After thirty-one years, a soulmate of his very own.

He'd loved to watch them grow through their shadows, though his favorite was the little snippets he'd get of their life. Like for everyone else, they were very rare, especially in the bright cities he was accustomed to living in. There was always just a little bit of light somewhere in New York, but he remembered vividly the little snatches he'd managed to get from his soulmate's life when both of their shadows faded into a shade of the dark completely.

A deeply nerdy room with Star Wars posters. The bustling streets of a city. And, more recently, dark alleyways that had made him more than a little nervous. His soulmate was only a kid after all, but it was a bit hypocritical for him to be any kind of judgmental after his own teenage years, and it wasn't like he could do anything.

Other than what he was doing now.

The flashes of the streets he'd seen in his soulmate visions had reminded him deeply of New York (though they could just as easily have been from another city in the States), so Tony had made the effort to go out more whenever he could. Usually he couldn't stay for long, he was pretty busy after all. Still, local coffee shops and street vendors had become frequented by Tony Stark as he'd searched. He knew it was a little ridiculous to parade around the streets of New York City in the hopes that he would stumble upon his soulmate, but after everything that had happened with the team, he could at least try to throw in a little optimism.

The mechanic blinked out thoughts of the broken team as the elevator opened on the empty bottom floor, making his way through the darkly lit lobby and out the door into the streets. Street lamps were lit brightly, and, coupled by the headlight of cars and the alternating colors of traffic light, his soulmate was able to walk alongside Tony as he crossed the road and began down the sidewalk.

"Any recommendations for a good coffee shop, my little shadow?" Tony asked his soulmate. The people on the street paid him no mind, not that it was unusual for people to talk to their shadows. "If you do live around here, you must have at least a few recommendations. Well, I guess you are a kid, but I drank plenty of caffeine when I was your age, so."

He shrugged to himself, stopping at a street corner and pursing his lips as he thought. He'd really only explored Manhattan when looking for his soulmate, but walking across the bridge into Brooklyn and Queens would take much too long. He did want to get back to his project after all.

Tony made a turn, resolving to just find whatever new café he could. Maybe he'd explore Brooklyn or Harlem after the move. Or maybe Queens, he had been wanting to try and meet that Spider-Kid for a while anyway. He'd thought he'd had an opportunity when Rogers and his merry band had taken Barnes and left in Germany, but everything had gone by just too quick and he didn't even know the guy's identity. Not for lack of trying. The guy was pretty good at avoiding cameras, it almost made Tony jealous.

The billionaire walked for about fifteen minutes, passing by every coffee shop he'd already been to in search of a new one. There were plenty in Manhattan, but Tony had been to so many at this point it was a little ridiculous. He stopped, ready to pull out his phone and see where the nearest one he could find was, when he caught sight of a man out of the corner of his eye.

He frowned. How long had that man been following him? A few blocks at least, he recognized that green jacket from when he'd passed by Beany Business.

The light turned from an orange hand to a white silhouette, and Tony hurried across the street. He hadn't brought any kind of weapons with him, and he really wasn't in the mood to cause some kind of scene. If he was quick, he could probably lose this guy and still get to his coffee shop without some kind of annoying disturbance.

Tony allowed himself to be swept up in the crowd of late-goers, moving with them quickly. He let that crowd trickle by and joined another, and then joined one more of a drunk afterparty before finally slipping down an alleyway when he could no longer see the green jacket. He blinked in surprise as he caught sight of a coffee shop just across the street, bright red letters reading 'The Coffee Club.'

He smiled. Perfect.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strolled down the alleyway towards the cheap looking café. And then a figure stepped in the entrance, blocking the view from across the street and slapping Tony's easygoing smile off of his face.

The billionaire immediately tensed as his eyes roamed over the green jacket, the covered face, and finally the gun pointed towards him. His eyebrow raised as his gaze rested on the weapon that wasn't really a gun. It was splayed out like a robotic arm, shiny and just a little bit clunky but clearly dangerous.

"Hands in the air, Stark," the man ordered. Slowly, he followed the man's orders. "Phone and glasses on the floor. Now."

"I'm gonna have to move my hands for that," Tony snarked. The man gave him a slight snarl.

"Just do it. Slowly. And throw them over here."

"Sure," he agreed, fishing his phone out of his pocket and taking his glasses off of his face before letting them clatter to the ground. The man kept the robotic gun trained on him as he grabbed the devices, placing them in a pocket in the thick of his jacket. Tony frowned. "So, what is this? A kidnapping? Taking my wallet? Genuinely interested."

"I've been watching you for a while, Stark," the man said, "You go out at night a lot. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before I could get what I want from you."

"And I would love to know what that is. As well as where you got that neat little arm-gun there. Is that Sokovian?"

"Shut up, Stark. I don't need your snark, just some information, and I'll take your wallet too."

"Mind leaving me enough cash for a coffee?"

The gun cocked. "What did I just say?"

"Hmm, I forgot."

"Very funny."

"Thanks, I thought so too," Tony joked. "Anyway, back on topic of what this is all about."

The gun whined and then quickly shot, whizzing past Tony to burn the wall just behind him. Tony turned his head to glance at the large ring of smoke before facing the man in the green jacket again.

"Shut up," he ordered again. "No more words from you unless they're the password into the DODC."

"There's more than just one password. You got a pen? This could take a while."

"No, you're coming with me."

"Oh, so this is a kidnapping."

"I can't have you changing the passwords and alerting anyone of this," the man answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Tony could already count five thousand ways this could go wrong for Green Jacket Guy. One being that Tony wasn't up for being kidnapped at this moment in particular, and he definitely wasn't going to let this schmuck take him while he was just trying to get a decent coffee. "Keep your hands in the air and don't move, or else I'm hitting you with this."

When he gestured to the gun, Tony just gave him a bored look. "You know you're not getting any passwords or anything if you kill me, right?"

The man flicked a switch on the gun. "It's set to stun. It won't kill you, but it will definitely knock you out for a few hours."

"Good to know."

Green Jacket Guy approached, a pair of cuffs poised to slip around his outstretched hands. The man's steps were jauntily hesitant, but clear apprehension didn't stop the man from grabbing his hand and forcing the first cuff around him. He moved to click it around the billionaire's other wrist, but was met with a snapping punch to the face.

Green Jacket Guy stumbled back, a hand pressed against his newly bloody nose in a grunt of clear pain. Tony dove when the man quickly gathered himself and raised his gun, forcing himself behind a trash can as it whined and then fired. The trashcan forced itself against Tony, slapping the mechanic against the wall with a shouted groan, his shoulder barely breaking his fall. That was going to bruise in the morning.

Forced to his knees, Tony scrambled back up only to be faced with the robot-arm-gun pointed directly in his face. It charged up in its now annoyingly familiar warped whine, and there was nowhere to go. He was trapped and he was not excited to be blasted by this thing and if he got kidnapped again Happy was going to have a heart attack, he might as well--

"Hey! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" called a squeaky voice. Tony and Green Jacket Guy both turned as a red blur shot into the alleyway, a thwip! knocking the gun from the man's hand and the red blur knocking into him. The man was barreled to the ground with a pained groan before he was covered in a flurry of webs, the Spider Guy standing over him. "Pointing guns at people is illegal y'know! Sorry to be a party pooper, but I will be calling the police."

Tony blinked, forcing himself to his feet fully as the vigilante turned around, the lenses of his goofy goggles widening in comical shock.

"Oh, whoa."

 ---

 "Oh, whoa," Peter breathed as he caught sight of literally Tony-freaking-Stark dusting off his pants as he stood up. His eyes instinctively fluttered to the man's shadow, expecting the long hair and slim figure of Pepper Potts but catching sight of a short and rumpled man instead. Huh.

"Whoa yourself, kid," Mr. Stark responded, stepping over to where the man was knocked out cold and webbed to the ground. He dug through the man's exposed green jacket and pulled out a pair of glasses and a sleek phone, but Peter's eyes were locked onto the strange gun on the ground. His eyes narrowed at how similar it looked to the ones at the bank. "What're you doing out here? You're a Queens guy aren't you?"

"Oh, uh, yes-yes, sir. Usually, but I was just, uhh, I was just around and I heard the fight and, and yeah..."

Mr. Stark turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion as he glanced over Peter's ratty superhero suit. He shuffled on his feet nervously, trying desperately to keep himself still and untense his shoulders, not that it had much affect. The teenager choked down agitation, trying his best to not glance at his watch. It was getting late and, while Iron Man was his second favorite Avenger, the last thing he needed was Tony Stark finding out his secret identity.

"What's your name?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Spider-Man."

"And your real name?"

Peter paused. "Spider-Man. On my birth certificate and everything."

Mr. Stark frowned, and Peter thought he was going to demand a legitimate answer, when he shrugged and stepped away from the guy on the ground. "Fine. You helped me out, I won't bother you about it. For now."

Peter let out a low sigh, muttering, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"I am going to bother you about other things though," Mr. Stark said, "I've been meaning to talk to you, and no time like the present."

"Oh, uhh, I kinda have to--"

Peter was interrupted by the painful rumble of his stomach. His face turned as red as his mask, and he was thankful the man couldn't see his embarrassment, not that that stopped the superhero's teasing smirk. With a wave, the man stepped out of the alleyway. "C'mon, let's go."

"Go--go where?"

"Coffee. I came to get a good black coffee and I refuse to leave without one."

Peter glanced down at the guy he'd webbed. "What about him?"

"My AI already called the police. They'll be here soon. Now, c'mon. I'm not gonna ask you twice."

"Yeah, yeah. Ah, okay, Mr. Stark."

 ---

 Peter shuffled his feet nervously, his arms crossed and constantly turning so that he could peer at the time on his watch. Twenty minutes. Not looking great, but it wasn't like Peter could really leave while Mr. Stark ordered his coffee. That would be rude, and plus it was Iron Man, so, overall a bad idea.

He glanced over from where he was leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop to stare at the clear door. Like a final answer to his prayers, the billionaire stepped out, a drink carrier in one hand and a small brown bag in the other. The man didn't look exactly like he'd thought he would. Tony Stark had always been almost hilariously imposing in his mind, with a sharp suit and a sharper goatee, but this man was softer. Rougher.

His clothes were stained, his leather jacket rumpled, his hair messy and his face worn with the lines of memories. He seemed almost familiar somehow, and it unnerved Peter just as much as it comforted him.

"Here ya go, kid. Black coffee for me, hot chocolate and a snickerdoodle for you," Mr. Stark said once he'd walked over. Peter blinked in surprise, but managed to accept the drink and the bag with stumbling fingers.

"Oh, wow. Thank you, Mr. Stark, but you really didn't have to."

"Billionaire here, Spider-Kid. I can afford a cookie and a drink."

Peter thanked him again and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled his mask up to just above his nose, starting on the cookie. It was almost impossible to not fork it down immediately with how starved he felt. Mr. Stark waited patiently until he was finished with his snickerdoodle to start speaking, and Peter's ears burned.

"So," Mr. Stark started, "New York's benevolent vigilante that directs tourists and saves kittens from trees. Doesn't seem like a very exciting gig."

Peter narrowed his eyes, shuffling on his feet again nervously. What was his game?

He shrugged, taking a sip of his hot chocolate before answering, "It doesn't have to be exciting. I'm just trying to help out."

"Why?"

"Why--why help?"

"Exactly," Mr. Stark pointed, and suddenly he wasn't strangely familiar, he filled up the whole street. "Very few people help just to help, and even fewer dress themselves up in something that embarrassing just to help a few old ladies across the street. Why are you doing this? I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you out of your apartment and into that onesie in the morning?"

"It's not a onesie," he muttered. Peter forced his fingers not to grip around the cup as images of a bloody street and dying shadows filled his head, instead redirecting the agitation into the scrunch of his face. He imagined he had his usual and embarrassing puppy scowl right now. He tried to release it with a sigh, but he didn't feel much better as he answered. "Because...because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers six months..."

Mr. Stark hummed in confirmation, goading Peter on. He swallowed down sick at the image of his aunt's brown hair drenched in blood before he continued. "I...I tried to move on at first. Just, hey! I have powers and I'm just gonna ignore it and showboat it. But...when you can do the things that I can, but you don't...and then the bad things happen..." He took a deep breath as Mr. Stark leaned in closer. "They happen because of you."

"So you wanna look out for the little guy? You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?"

Peter nodded fervently. "Yeah, yeah just looking out for the little guy. That's--that's what it is."

Mr. Stark nodded, his eyes glanced Peter up and down quickly before he asked softly, "And what about looking out for you?"

Peter startled, glaring at the man defensively. Did he just look like shit that much?

"What are you talking about? I'm doing fine."

"You reek of someone who hasn't been taking care of themselves, kid."

"I'm not a kid," he muttered, "And I'm fine."

"Yeah? Your arm's shaking."

Peter glanced down to see that, yes, his arm clutched around the hot chocolate was indeed shaking. Peter switched the drink to his other hand before shoving his arm in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just tired."

"It's barely ten."

"And I've been patrolling for--did you say ten?"

Mr. Stark seemed perturbed by his sudden shift, but Peter couldn't be bothered at the way his voice had lowered and shaken with slight fear or the way his entire self had tensed. Peter tore his hand out of his pocket to glare at the watch on his wrist. 9:57. Shit.

"Shit--fuck!" Peter exclaimed, pulling his mask back down. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Mr. Stark, I gotta go. Thank you so much for the hot chocolate, sir!"

"Kid, wait--"

He flicked out a wrist onto a nearby building, bending to leap when Mr. Stark's hand wrapped around his wrist.

Peter blinked at the odd sensation, holding back a flinch at the unexpected touch and tensing as his vision seemed to leap just a foot to the left before fizzing back to what it had been before. It left him dizzy and disoriented, but he only had a minute to get all the way from Manhattan to Queens. Maybe if he made it home within ten minutes he could get away with it or--

"Oh, my God..."

Peter turned at Mr. Stark's voice, realizing the man's hand was still gripping his wrist. He followed the billionaire's horribly stricken gaze to stare at whatever had left him dumb. Peter's jaw dropped as he caught sight of his shadow. It was his shadow.

The fluffy hair of his soulmate was suddenly gone and, instead, Peter's masked silhouette stood in its place. He glanced down at Mr. Stark's shadow, actions slow and jerky as he caught sight of it perfectly reflecting his own perked up jacket collar and outline of glasses. Carefully, Mr. Stark let go of his hand in a motion that felt like he was testing the waters. The shadows switched. The hooded figure shadowed Mr. Stark while the fluffy hair stood where Peter's shadow once had.

"What the..." Peter trailed off. His breaths felt lighter all the sudden. Fast. Too fast. The street was closing in, the cars passing nearby too loud and too bright and oh God his soulmate was Tony Stark. He swallowed painfully, tears biting at his eyes as he struggled for a breath.

His soulmate wasn't supposed to be Tony Stark. Peter couldn't--Peter couldn't live up to that! Mr. Stark had saved the world and he was an Avenger and he was the smartest man in the world and Peter was just some useless kid who got bullied and had a curfew and Jesus Christ he was going to be so late Mr. Fowler was going to be so mad and--

"Kid?" Mr. Stark asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Peter flinched and ducked away, the cup he'd been holding clattering from his hands as he stood opposite the man. Defensive. A shadow flashed against the man's face.

Peter read it as disappointment.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. He shot a web and leaped away, but he could never escape his shadow.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[abimee]

can you tell me abt ruhan and ryder? very cool guys 10/10

YOU BET I CAN

Ruyan is a 28 year old she/him agender bisexual and Ryder is a 24 year old she/her transmasc bisexual, they met when ryder was 8 and ruyan was 12 becayse ryder killed one of ruyans bullies on accident.

Ryder is actually from another timeline of Ruyans universe, and in a sense is that timelines Ruyan but in the sense that theyre both actually a piece of the same person from millions of years ago (a lady named azem). Ryder's world went to shit because in her timeline of events graha tia never woke up from the crystal tower abd the ascians won their fight to rejoin their star system. They took Ryder and fucked her up making her similar to an ascian where shes a soul without a body that cannot die and enter the lifestream unless under very specific bindings. they then just sort of let her go because they won so its not like she could do anything to them and sort of just fucked her up to see if they could remake their original self existence before just making another dead soul.

she then took her old body, stole a dudes vital organs, and used the knowledge disposed to her in her dead world to move over a timeline and ended up in ruyans. she then put her stolen organs into the body of a dead child who gave themself to their god to exit out of the reincarnation cycle and used the fresh organs to revitilize the body so it can age and "live" and ryder can create the false belief that she was a normal living child. and then she accidently killed one of ruyan bullies because she was a 20 year old champion of the world destined to fight now stuck inside a kids body trying to act like one while also having severe anger issues

ruyan is an abandoned child who under his family teachings believes that indulgence and wanting will get him punished by their gods because their ancestors indulged too much and now must deprave themselves to win back the mercy. hes very sensitive and tries to be bold but often gets picked on by kids for his belief that he is his communities reincarnated god as they believe that you can see the gods in certain peoples eyes and those two are destined to marry. but everyone sees ruyan as a crybaby and a strange child and he has little support to keep him strong until he meets ryder, who would kill for him

they protect each other and eventually at age 16 ruyan takes ryder away to try to form a new life elsewhere, eventually leading him to his current life in eorzea. cue the story of the game they exist in FINAL FANTASY FOURTEEN

ryder eventually resees her universe and beyond and sees all that wouldve happened if it didnt explode in her face, and even meets the man who let her world die and ruyan has a crush on him and ryder is so godsamn terrified of it because he broke her heart before her world ended and shes scared thats destiny in this tl and ruyan is very fragile since this is the first time hes ever fallen in love and she seems adament to believe graha is his soulmate. dude does the same thing and it ruins ruyans world for him

but its fine because ryder sees a part of the tl that never existed for her and a man shes never seen before who acts close to ruyan abd she recognizes that this means something. she can see things under the surface ruyan cant because she knows this story so when something is different or altered she chases the possible outcome and tries her hardest to push for ruyans life to be happy and joyful and for him to live on where ryder didnt. and he meets his future husband but he still believes hea destined with graha while ryder is eating cardboard because she can SEE how different ruyan acts towards this elf guy like hes not tense and shaky like he was with graha hes relaxed and pushy and laughs loudly and he can see the way the man returns every toch affectionately and ryder is basically experiemcing a movie where she knows how it ends and the snails oace writing is making her scream for it to just happen already

eventually she ought to let ruyan know of her existence as what she is and she does when ruyan himself learns he IS the god he thought he was, because his god azim was an ancient interpretation of this ancient being named Azem who lived in the first iteration of their world, he is a shard of her existence that split amongst the worlds born of the original world. and so he has to know that ryder is just a ghost of a dead existence and that she too is just a long forgotten veing grasping for the threads of life.

and eventually she does gotta leave. her time will be up one day and ahe cant keep living in a world not made for her, she just haf nowhere to go and nobody to hold onto but her time with ruyan had shown her all the love and joy in the world that couldve been and that she needs to accept that she cant have that. ryder is a trope i really like of like a cathartic bad ending, she is someone who will not get a happy ending and there are people in this world like that and to accept that and that she has to let go is very important to me. she has to disappear and let ruyan lead through his life and the universe made for him, but shes at least happy she got to help ruyan there, like it was fate for them to meet; one life for one world etc etc

and ruyan int fully alone when ryder disappears, because they both know that she wont just cease; her exist will be reborn, someone else in this universe will take her place, another ryder will come and the ryder of this timeline ia out there somewhere. there are flecks of her in this univers dug into the fabric of it and ruyan will forever see her presence where it left its mark; ruyan will hear her laughter in his own, see her silhouette in her faborite chair, see her running through a crowd and disappear before he can call to her. people pass him and he swears its ryder but they look nothing alike, ryder in people who do not answer to that name and do not recall a thing. even a Shade of Ryder lives in in amaurot, the hollow concept of her existence given refuge in the concept of a world that died long ago.

ruyan even eventually meets the person Ryder is reincarnated into, years later when hes married and wishing to have a child and he meets this aggressive, stubborn, obnoxious child abandoned to the orphanage by parents who died and a family that refused to accept them. the child calls himself Hildegarde and he pushes his classmates, refuses the authority of his teachers, he plays by himself and in that look of rage in his eyes does Ruyan see all the pain and sorrow of Ryder reborn into the world, the part of ther that gave her existence meaning and morphed into its own being seperates from azem, from being ruyans other, from being ryder. and with that Ruyan is able to see Hildegarde for what he truly is but a poor kicked dog that everyone refuses to listen to its begging and ruyan is able to get through to the child and show him that he can be loved and accepted and cherishes, even with fangs and claws and bites because

because its what ryder showed ruyan

[hollandsrecs]

completed series masterlist (1)

links last checked 16/12/2020 | more masterlists here

2 hearts, 22 calibers by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: despite discovering the new owner of the club you work at may have his own secrets hidden, the temptation to get closer to him outweighs your trepidation...

12 days of christmas by keepingupwiththeparkers

24 hour, long lasting by madmadmilk

summary: a clumsy you, a tube of long lasting lipstick, a small case of stumbling, a stain, and a boy you never imagined to meet.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

against the agenda by cosmetologynerd

summary: he was tom holland; love was not on the agenda. 

all of the lights by spiderboytherescue

always, yours by angelicholland

summary: you always knew you loved your best friend but you figured that he would never feel the same way, so you set those useless feelings aside. how will you cope when you find a box of letters that tells you otherwise? is it too late to let go of the butterflies trapped deep within you? would he even feel the same way anymore?

apartment 509 by sweetlysilent

summary: tom brings girls home almost daily, something that bothers you to the end of the world; whereas on the other hand you rarely go out, spending majority of your time focused on your studies, something that drives tom insane, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker, even more when he finds out you have a study date.

attachment by hazinhoodies

summary: maybe you held on a little too tight. you were only trying to salvage the most important relationship of your life.

beneath the waves by cosmetologynerd

summary: “please, i wish to be free.” 

black beauty by blissfulparker

summary: tom, the king of hell, has no time for love or any woman in his life. he spends his days finding new punishments for the people who deserve it. you, spend your days in heaven making everyone happy. never wanting a soul to feel down. what happens when heaven decides to send you down to join tom in hell? why would they send their best angel to the devil himself?

born king by spiderboytotherescue

breaking curfew by wazzupmrstark

summary: when you got the job to be a counsellor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. but you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. in fact, you thought you’d never have to see tom holland again. but he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. if you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? what kind of asshole would do something like that?

clear by peeterparkr

summary: y/n is in town for summer, she wants the sea to wash away the pains of the past, however when a certain surfer comes into her life, the remaining salt might not decant, but maybe some sweet surprises might come to shore

complications by loserparker

summary: being roommates with tom was easy, fun. that is until feelings started getting involved. throw in the fact that both of you suck at communication and things are bound to get complicated.

contrapposto by madmadmilk

summary: you desperately needed a figure model for your upcoming art final and you find a friend willing to pose for you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

dare you to move by starksparker

summary: friends with benefits is supposed to be just that. friends with the benefits of fooling around and not having anything more than platonic feelings. easy, fun, thrilling, no one gets hurt…right?

determined by blesshimnorris

summary: you are enjoying university life with your fellow housemates, except for tom, who seems to avoid or tease you every chance he gets. but with your birthday slowly approaching he finally tries to make amends.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

dine and dash by blissfulparker

summary: tom comes into your diner every tuesday and thursday, it is no secret that he only goes for you. when will he ever be brave enough to say something, when will you ever be brave enough to let him in?

eighteen by angelicholland

summary: y/n is tom’s math tutor and needed a date for sunday dinner. tom has tattoos all over and just looks like the type of guy who would piss off her parents. will their fake relationship turn into something so much more?

eloped by worldoftom

summary: you and tom have been in a secret relationship for a long time, but what would you do if tom proposed unexpectedly during your vacation in casablanca, morocco?

every step of the way by sunshinehollandd

summary: you and tom are best friends, and you have been for as long as you can remember. after one night, everything changes. but, tom is by your side every step of the way.

ex on the beach by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: eight months after your ugly breakup with tom, you find yourself stuck together for two whole weeks at a private beach house. just you, tom, some mutual friends, what could possibly go wrong?

for king or country by avengers-sweethearts

summary: from the time you were a child you always lived in the castle. your mother and father were both servants and even after they died you stayed on as one yourself. prince yom was always someone you admired from afar. he was the nicest out of all the holland royalty and incredibly handsome. along the way of your daily duties the prince begins to pay you more attention when you save him from an awkward situation. things get more complicated when his jealous betrothed princess zendaya comes to court and stirs up trouble for the forbidden romance. will prince tom follow his heart or stay true to his country? most importantly of all, will you even make it out alive?

forbidden rose by avengers-sweethearts

summary: if there was one person who knew how to throw a party, it was tom holland. in 1922 partying wasn’t uncommon, but a tom holland party was like none ever seen before. the young billionaire thrived off of rumors and speculation. despite the parties being held weekly, no one had ever seen the mystery man. tom intended to keep it that way until one night an enchanting woman caught his eye. but what happens when her cruel fiancé is tangled up with demons from his past. will their love be enough to overcome the trouble that lies ahead?

forever by starksparker

summary: what happens when a fuckboy with some anger issues and a bad streak is forced to work alongside someone who’s his opposite? and what happens if they can be ripped from him in seconds?

ground rules by madmadmilk

summary: you just love holding someone, and being held. It’s not a hard thing to ask for, but it sure can be hard for someone to understand.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

happiness is a butterfly by blissfulparker

summary: you and tom spend your whole lives looking for your soulmates. how could you not see that you two were right under each other’s noses both coming from a mob family?

heart eyes by madmadmilk

summary: tom holland is a friend that you only see once or twice a year, but when the stars align and you finally start to get close to him again you realize that… you’ve never really known each other at all. he has an emoji tailing after every contact on his phone… but none for you. hm. a soft and bumbling story about how you get to know him, and how he gets to know you.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

heartbreak weather by t-holland2080

summary: after getting out of a rough relationship, you meet tom, who pulls you out of your heartbreak weather.

heavenly yours by tomsrebeleyebrow

summary: angels live in a perfect world. in a complete ivory tower. but loving someone else is forbidden. a true sin.

hostility by starsholland

summary: everything was going well in your life, living in LA, trying to make it big as a journalist, but all of that is foiled when tom holland walks into your life bringing drama and negativity. how much will you be able to take before you finally lose it?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

hotlanta by hollandorks

summary: a fun night in atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity tom holland in order to save both of their careers.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

how to unlove someone by whatevsholland

i only feel you by stuckonspidey

summary: a world in which soulmates feel their other half, physically and emotionally. y/n has given up on finding her soulmate, given up on trying to decipher the sensations he feels and the lifestyle he leads–prompting her to give up on him. her other half, she’d come to find, is the leader of the holland crime family, and in no means the easiest person to love.

kiss currency by madmadmilk

summary: swapping underwear with your best friend’s best friend, while maintaining your cool composure. he’s cute, he’s funny, and you’d be down to kiss him at least once. :)

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3

lacuna by thollandss

summary: being friends with benefits with a celebrity isn’t easy. nobody said it was.

limits of desire by peeterparkr

summary: you met tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize how you really feel.

london boy by tonguetiedholland

summary: you’re a famous singer and actor whose break up with ex boyfriend, shawn mendes, has just hit the media. when it all feels a bit too much you do the only reasonable thing you can think of, escape to london and lay low for a little while. who knew that tom holland, the boy you’d only met once but had you in the palm of his hand when you did and vice verse, would also be in london at the same exact time?

lucky number by tomhollanders2013

summary: what happens when one of the world’s most famous celebrities accidentally dials your number instead of his new assistant’s... is it a happy accident or a recipe for disaster?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

miss yer kiss by angelicholland

summary: a one-night stand turned something more, you and tom meet again against the odds. an aspiring tattoo artist and a famous actor with “i miss you” on the tip of your tongues meet again and again as you slowly realize what love looks like.

model for me by thollandss

summary: in which you are a photographer for GQ, and during a private session with tom holland, you find yourself getting to know him very well.

money can’t buy you love by hilllsnholland

summary: y/n has worked her whole life to get into the prestige university of her dreams. nothing can stop her, right? maybe tom holland, son of billionaires and the poster child of privilege, who has made it his mission to woo the ‘scholarship baby’.

more than i know by lauras-collection

summary: you need a date for your sister’s wedding and the stranger in the coffee shop seems to be the perfect choice. until you see pictures of yourself and him all over the internet because apparently he’s an international movie star and now the whole world thinks you’re dating. and you have to give the people what they want, right? even if it’s fake.

naughty or nice by avengers-sweethearts

summary: the holidays are the worst time to be alone, especially in a brand new city with a brand new job. when an unexpected meeting with famous actor tom holland ends in the exchanging of phone numbers you find yourself in the dangerous position of falling in love with hollywood’s hottest and most eligible bachelor. unable to help yourself, you being to fall for the handsome actor and will do almost anything to earn his affection. trying to balance work, love, and the holiday proves to be more of a challenge than you had initially thought. the million-dollar question is what side of tom’s christmas list will you end up on: naughty or nice?

of broken promises and heartbreak by softspiderling

summary: it’s been six years since you and tom broke up, six years since you’ve last seen each other. a lot has happened, tom got insanely famous, making countless billion dollar movies, attending one red-carpet event after the other. but now he was attending one event, he wasn’t sure he was ready for. your wedding. and he wasn’t attending as your groom.

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

paint the grass green by lauras-collection

summary: a complicated relationship ends when tom breaks up with you after a fight. but it’s about to get more complicated. because how are you going to tell him that you’re pregnant if he won’t let you talk to him? so you don’t. years later you run into harrison, and there’s no denying that it’s tom’s son who’s tightly holding onto your hand. harrison gives you an ultimatum: either you tell tom, or he will.

peppermint by hollandandi

perfidy by peeterparkr

summary: tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. however you happened to be best friends with the twins. when one of your friends challenged you to break tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

philanthropy by museinmind

summary: things seemed to be going too well in your life when you became your sorority’s president. so of course something has to go sideways somehow, and you end up having to take a chemistry class if you want to graduate next year. so what better person to tutor you than tom, the frat ultra hot boy who hides the fact he has textbooks nearly memorized?

pinky promises by sunshinehollandd

summary: being a single dad to a four-year-old isn’t easy, but tom figures out a way to make it work with the help of his best friend.

season of reunions by unbelievableholland

summary: you were adopted by 2 mysterious agents. you knew you were adopted and you never thought about your original family. being content with the life your parents gave you, why would you? that was, until your parents are killed and you’re left to fend for yourself and with a lot of questions unanswered.

seeing the thing by angelicholland

summary: you’re stage-managing your school’s spring show, almost, maine when you’re taken out of your element by a cocky boy with a dazzling smile and a way to your heart that makes you hate him before you can see the thing.

sincerely, by whatevsholland

summary: you and tom were childhood best friends. but when he started dating the girl who got everything you ever wanted, it began a falling out between you and tom. now he’s back home in london, just in time for your sister to host her engagement party.

single all the way by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: when tom finds out he has to go home for christmas, he decides to formulate plan so he doesn’t have to run into his ex alone. you.

soulmate by spiderboytotherescue

summary: sometimes finding your soulmate doesn’t always happen where you expect it too. and sometimes, you’re just not ready to fall head over heels in love just yet.

sweetener by keepingupwiththeparkers

summary: okay, so maybe lecture hall proximity and roast calibre weren’t the only reasons for your frequent visits to this particular coffee shop. maybe there was a certain brown eyed brunette who worked there, and maybe he always gave you two stamps on your loyalty card instead of one, and maybe you liked watching his back muscles shift under his stupidly tight t-shirt while he pumped sweet vanilla syrup into your cup. maybe.

take me out by angelicholland

summary: you killed people, people who deserved it, but you killed people and that was your reality. killing is a job for one person. add another and it gets messy. things don’t happen by chance, not in your line of work. you held people’s lives in your hands and made the active decision to end them. what happens when you team up with a gorgeous man with a charming british accent to take out a prolific user of a sex trafficking website? but it was not by chance that you fell in love with him, it was the worst decision you could’ve ever made.

the fame game by duskholland

summary: there’s just something about tom holland that makes your blood boil. he walks around like he owns the world, always with an unhelpful quip or irritating smirk on hand. you can’t stand him, and your feud has burned hard and bright for three years. everything changes following an explosive evening at the oscars, when a questionable encounter with the paparazzi lands you in some hot water with PR. the only way to save your shattered public image is to agree to the unthinkable: tom will be your boyfriend, and you will be his girlfriend - and this might just be your hardest performance to date.

the jar series by libertybarnes

summary: tom holland, notorious mob boss, meets a single mother and her bubbly child and has to learn to live life with something to lose.

the king by sadchappuccino

summary: y/n is an angel who fell from heaven, tom is the king of hell. will they put that aside and fall in love?

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

the missing piece by avengers-sweethearts

summary: when you graduated with an elementary education degree you were lost. you thought you wanted to be a teacher but you weren’t entirely sure if it would make you happy. as you’re in between jobs, you’re lucky enough to stumble upon the opportunity to be a nanny for the very rich and very handsome single father, tom holland. tom is busy running a company and he doesn’t want his daughter ella to be alone or sent to a daycare. things get crazy when you move in with the little family. between some secrets about alla and the undeniable attraction between you and tom you’re not sure what your role is to this family. do you keep it professional or do you risk it all and take the chance of falling for tom? only time will tell if you’re the missing piece.

the situationship by fairytelling

summary: a cup of tea can solve just about any problem. except, it can’t solve your confusing, headache-inducing ‘situationship’ with your university flatmate, tom holland.

to new beginnings by petersshirts

summary: it’s time to settle down and when your best friend asks you to have a child with him, how could you say no?

two lies and a truth by lauras-collection

summary: you wanted a fresh start. and uni seemed like the perfect opportunity. until you bump into tom. he says he’s sorry for everything he’s done to you. but can you trust him?

untitled by marvelbws

summary: suits, smirks, and a major sex appeal.

vlogs by spideyyeet

summary: being in the vlog squad was dope af but having david dobrik run into tom holland and getting him to surprise you was a whole other thing. now let’s see what’s it like to have tom meet the vlog squad and be with the girl that’s making him rethink some decisions.

we’re only kidding ourselves by wazzupmrstark

summary: you work as a production assistant for the spider-man: far from home crew, or rather as tom holland’s handler. the two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

wicked games by captainmarvels

summary: in which tom holland, overwhelmed by his personal demons, seeks comfort in the only ways he knows how; spending money and rough fucking. the hotheaded ceo with major daddy issues can’t seem to get it quite right when it comes to you, but is there hope for his heart?

with love, tom by thollandss

summary: when an envelope addressed to tom makes its way into your mailbox, you realize he has enlisted in the army. your walls begin to crumble down at the idea of him leaving you like this. alone for eight weeks. he makes a promise to you, a promise that every week he is gone, he will send you an update letter... but soon enough, you start to not receive them.

yellow roses by grussell63

summary: tom’s mother has him participate in a bachelor-like dating competition, because she is tired of him sleeping around. furthermore she decides to bring in his best friend to spy on the contestants. is tom going to find the one amongst the 12 candidates or is he just going to play his little games?

chapters: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | EPILOGUE

[slowly-writing]

Part of The Family: Civil War

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested by me: ...okay but hear me out. Part of the family, during Civil War.

A/N:  This is pretty angst, but I promise there’s a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy this, I loved diving back into this universe for a bit! I tried to stay as neutral as possible, but you can probably tell who’s side I was on. 

The mission in Logos was not one you wish to remember. It reminds you of the conversation you had with your mom after she got back from Sokovia. Missions like this one are the exact reason she doesn't want you in the field. The fact that you all made it out alive and relatively uninjured is practically a miracle. Sure you’ve got a few broken ribs and your mom for sure has a concussion she keeps denying, but you all walked away. You just want to relax, heal, and forget the whole thing happened.

The news, however, has other ideas. Every channel is playing the explosion on repeat. What is probably the worst moment of your life being played again and again for the world to see. The worst part is the blatant attack they’re throwing towards Wanda. The girl saved your life and the lives of countless others in that crowd. There were casualties and it was tragic, but the things they’re saying are absurd. You’re enhanced too, but you weren’t the one who wasn’t strong enough, so now she’s the monster.

You haven’t seen MJ since you got back, the swarm of paparazzi and news vans outside the tower is far too thick for either of you to break through, but you know she agrees with you, and something tells you you’re going to need that support pretty soon.

“People died and that’s on me,” you hear your father’s voice as you walk up to Wanda’s room.

“That’s on both of us,” she retorts and they both look down solemnly, feeling guilty.

“That’s on hydra. If you don’t want to put the blame where it really belongs, which as I said is on them, then fine. It’s on all of us. We’re a team. This isn’t on just any one of us, we were all there. We all could’ve done something different today and the outcome doesn’t fall on any single person, just like it wouldn’t have if we had done well,” you say firmly as you sit beside your dad on Wanda’s bed.

“This job...we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everybody. But if we can’t find a way to live with it then next time, maybe nobody gets saved,” your dad says and you nod in agreement. It’s the hardest part, the people you don’t save, but you have to focus on the good parts. If you don’t, the bad will eat you up until there’s no more good at all.

A knock on the door startles all three of you out of your thoughts. You glance up to see Clint standing in the doorway. The look on his face practically screams trouble, and you almost don’t want to know what he’s going to say. “Tony’s back,” he finally says, “and he brought a guest.”

“We know who it is?”

“The secretary of state,” he says stiffly before walking out.

“This…” you look between the two, “can’t be good.”

xxxxx

You glance around the table, your whole family glaring at the accords. At Ross. At each other. You can see the lines being drawn around you and it makes you want to run and hide like the scared kid you feel like at the moment.

Then the bickering starts. Calculations are being run, and people are making arguments. Your dad and Tony being the loudest among the group.

“We may not be perfect but the safest hands are still our own,” your dad argues and Tony’s disagreement is clear.

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact and it won’t be pretty,” he says and Wanda tenses.

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” her voice is barely above a whisper and you speak up for the first time.

“They’ll come for both of us. You’re not the only one with powers that scare them and I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy being locked in a cell until I’m deemed useful,” you grit out and your mom is the next to speak up, but to your surprise it’s not to agree with you.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” she says and all the heads in the room snap towards her. All confused, and none more than you. “If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer. If we take it off-”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asks and she sighs.

“I’m just-I’m reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win back their trust.”

“I’m sorry did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” Tony teases and you glare at him.

“Oh I wanna take it back now,” she looks like she’s in pain, and you know the feeling.

“No no you can’t retract it,” as Tony proclaims his victory your dad is the first to leave the room and the team slowly scatters. You stay firmly planted in your seat, your eyes locked on the floor as the words they said sink in. Mainly those of your parents, and they make you sick. Not because of your own view, but of the fact that’s becoming clear. You’re all going to have to pick a side, and they’re not going to be on the same one.

xxxxx

Everyone seemed to be jetting off to different places around the world, having meetings in secret and not telling each other the details of them. You stayed home and tried to ignore it all. You even tried to go to school one day, but the stares and whispers made it impossible to even walk in the front doors. It was like the entire student body froze at the sight of you, so you stayed in the tower with Wanda who couldn’t bring herself to step outside, and occasionally MJ, but only when she could sneak away. Her parents didn’t want her to get mixed up in your mess and you couldn’t really blame them. Peter was always at home. There was no way he could get to the tower without his identity getting revealed and you had a sinking feeling Tony was only telling him one side of the story.

Over the next few weeks things only got messier. Your dad, trying to help, has become a war criminal. Your mom is in Vienna trying to fix everyone’s mess. And with your parents gone you and Wanda are locked in the tower, told by Tony you couldn’t leave for safety reasons. You still couldn’t figure out if he was trying to protect you or protect everyone else from you.  

“Mom, how is everyone?” you ask, propping the phone up so both you and Wanda could be seen on the small screen. You had just seen your dad get arrested on the news and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“Everything’s going to be fine. Tony and your father are talking right now,” she says, walking towards the conference room, close enough for all three of you to hear their voices.

“I’d file the motion to have you, y/n, and Wanda reinstated-” Tony speaks first.

“What about y/n and Wanda?” Your dad’s voice joins in, and you realize he has no idea what’s happening with you.

“They’re fine, they’re confined to the tower. There’s worse ways to protect people,” Tony tries only to be cut off again.

“Protection? Is that how you see this? This is protection? This is internment Tony-” It’s your dad’s turn to get cut off

“She’s not a US citizen and y/n doesn’t even have a birth certificate. They don’t grant visas to weapons of mass destruction!” Tony screams.

“They’re kids! She’s my kid!” There’s a long silence where all you can hear is your heart beating in your ears. You see your mom look at you, heart break visible on her face, and you know it’s because of the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Girls,” your mom says gently, she’s walking away from the argument, but you can’t take any more.

“I’ve gotta go,” you quickly end the call, walking to the window and staring out at the city. That was the moment you lost all your trust in your family. It’s also the moment you pick a side. Sure, Tony and your dad both have valid arguments, and you haven’t quite decided who is right, but you refuse to fight for someone who just called you and your best friend ‘weapons of mass destruction’. Sure MJ once said it as a joke, but that was different. She never meant it. After all these years, you can’t believe that Tony does. You can’t believe that's what he thinks of you. After the way he’s been there for you and helped raise you, he still thinks of you as a weapon waiting to fall into the wrong hands, and you refuse to side with someone who thinks so little of you.

“We need to go,” you say suddenly.

“And where would you suggest we go?” Wanda asks as you tighten your hands into fists, trying to control the anger you feel bubbling up.

“Anywhere but here! You said it yourself. They’re going to come for us, and I don’t see anyone here trying to help. Staying here and doing nothing we’re sitting ducks. We both know this is gonna come to a fight. So we might as well make our way to them,” you tell here and there’s a long silence until you hear Clint's voice behind you.

“I think I can help with that.”

xxxxx

You watch everyone else pile out of the van and greet your dad, Sam, and who you assume to be Bucky. You take a deep breath before following, standing a bit behind Wanda as Clint talks to the group. Your dad’s eyes meeting yours as he steps away from Clint to meet you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he says and you smile weakly.

“None of us did, and yet here we are. Mom’s not with us on this, is she?” He looks to the floor and you don’t need an answer, the sadness in his eyes is enough.

“We're outside the law on this one, if you do this, you’re a wanted woman,” he says and you nod.

“Ever since I found out about the serum, I promised to do what’s right. I’m not gonna let a little thing like the law stop me now,” he chuckles at your words until an alarm starts going off.

“Suit up,” he calls to the group and with that you all get ready, your dad being the first on the tarmac. You stay back in the shadows to listen while your dad and Tony go back and forth for a while, but your breath catches as your mom steps into the group.

“Steve, you know what’s about to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” Before he can answer Tony’s yelling and all the sudden Peter is behind Tony with your dad’s shield in his hand. Tony starts yelling at Steve to give up and for a second you think he’s going to, until you hear Sam’s voice saying they found the quinjet. Then Clint shoots his hands free and you step forward.

“Dad!” you yell, and when he glances back you toss your shield to him. Your mom’s eyes widen as she realises you’re here, and you’re starting to realise how little either of your parents have paid attention to your whereabouts throughout this whole thing. Sure, you’re 17, but you’d think they’d pay a little attention to your wellbeing. But you shake it off. Now isn’t the time to mope, you’re gonna need all your energy to do what you have to do.

The fighting starts and you freeze, realizing how not ready you are for this, you see your mom take out Scott as Rhodey goes for your dad. You get your dad’s shield from where Scott dropped it and watch in horror as your dad throws a truck at your mom, literally. And then, as much as you don’t want to, you follow him towards the quinjet. You’ve made your decision and there’s no going back now.

Tony’s team cuts you off and the two sides line up. It’s all very dramatic and you lock your jaw, trying to stay calm.

“What do we do, dad?” you ask.

“We fight,” he says firmly.

“Well, this is gonna end well,” you hear your mom say from the other line and you silently agree.

Everyone starts running towards each other and you tighten your grip on your shield. You find yourself dodging the cars Wanda throws as you punch a literal king in the face. He comes back strong, the claws of his suit tearing into your arm. You use your shield to knock him back into Clint’s range, and he takes over. You spin around to see who’s alone and see your mother with her gaze locked on you. She runs towards you and you use her momentum against her. You flip her over your shoulder but she quickly recovers kicking the shield from your hands and landing a solid punch to your side.

“I don’t want to do this y/n,” she says and you catch her fist, once again flipping her but this time she lands on her feet.

“And you think I do?” you yell over the chaos and suddenly a red mist encases the foot that was aimed at your chest. Your head snaps to Wanda as she sends your mom flying into a nearby vehicle.

“You were pulling your punches,” she says before running off and you glare after her before turning to Peter and slicing his web with your shield.

“Peter, go home. You don’t understand what’s happening here,” you plead.

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that.” he says before sending more webs flying at you. He grabs you by the ankle, sending you into a luggage cart before chuckling, “he also said to go for your legs.”

He shoots your hands and you use the webs to send him against the same luggage cart. He crumples to the ground and you hesitate for a moment before running the other way.

“We gotta go now,” your dad says and you sigh.

“No, you gotta go. If we’re gonna win this, some of us aren’t getting out of here,” you say, running towards the fight in the middle of the tarmac.

“I’m not leaving here without you. Your my family,” his words break your heart, and you know to get him to leave you’ll have to break his.

“No I’m not. I’m just some kid you felt obligated to help. Hydra screwed with me, it’s not your job to clean it up. Bucky’s always been family. Get him out of here. Who knows, maybe they’ll go easy on me. I am a kid after all.”

“Y/n-” you cut your dad off.

“Steve, go. Bucky you and him need to get to the jet. Scott, you remember that thing you were telling me about on the plane ride here?” you ask and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, “do that. And try not to split yourself in half. On his signal, everybody move.”

Scott soon grows to a ridiculous height and then all hell really breaks loose. Your only goal is making sure they get to the jet, and trying not to think about what’ll happen to you when they do.

After a bit more fighting you see the jet take off and the dust finally starts to settle. You glance around attempting to see who you can help, but instead you see police all with their eyes set on you and Wanda. You take a step back, trying to find somewhere to run, only to realize you’re surrounded. Slowly putting your hands in the air you kneel down, it’s easy to see you’ve lost and you don’t fight it as the shackles lock around your wrists. They’re hightech, clearly meant to withstand any enhanced ability and you see the same kind being put on Wanda. You glance over to your mom standing across the tarmac, you expect her to yell, tell them to let you go, at least have the decency to look upset. But she just watches as you’re shoved into the back of an armored van.

xxxxx

You look around the cell you’ve found yourself in. Your left wrist is shackled to the wall, apparently they don’t deem the two inch thick bulletproof cell wall enough to keep you restrained. After hours off pulling at the chains, your wrist becoming bloody and raw, you’ve given up on trying to get out of them. You’re still better off than Wanda, who is sitting across from you with a shock collar and a straight jacket. If you didn’t want to kill the people who put you here before, that image was enough to make the impulse arise.

You’re arranged in a circle, able to see the people around you, you may not have known all of them for long, but you know none of them deserve this. After the way you’ve been treated you’re starting to think nobody deserves this, you wouldn’t wish this on the worst Hydra had to offer. As you look at the faces around you, you can’t help but think of their families, how much Clint’s kids must miss him. How Scott’s daughter feels losing her father for a second time. It makes you wonder if your mom has even batted an eye. She sure didn’t seem to care that they carted you away in the first place. You start to wonder if she ever even cared at all, or if it was all some elaborate cover, maybe something set up by Fury to make you willing to work for them. They treated you like family to your face, but conspired against you behind closed doors. You’re reanalyzing every interaction you can remember when the door to the cell block opens.

Tony walks in in a sling and Clint starts clapping “the futurist gentlemen! The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you. Whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break Barton. I had no idea they’d put you here,” he snaps back and you stand, walking towards the glass only to get yanked back by the chain around your wrist pulling against the wall.

“Well, you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony,” you grit out. For a second his eyes soften before he’s speaking again.

“Yeah but not some supermax floating ocean pokey. This place is for maniacs this is a place for…” he trails off but Clint finishes for him.

“Criminals? Criminals Tony. Think that’s the word you’re looking for, right? That didn’t used to mean me. Or Sam, or Wanda. Or y/n, the girl YOU helped raise!” Clint yells before his voice drops low again, “but here we are.”

“Because you broke the law,” Tony says. As if that’s all this means. As if it’s all that simple. “I didn’t make you.”

“You better watch your back with this guy!” Clint says, slamming his fist into the cell wall as Tony starts walking around the circle, “there’s a chance he’s gonna break it.”

Tony walks, looking at all of you as if you’re animals in a zoo. He bickers with Scott and then Sam before stopping in front of you. You lock your jaw, ignoring the tears gathering in both of your eyes. “What do you need? Did they feed you yet?”

“Oh so now you’re the good cop? The caring uncle?” you snap, shaking the chain on your wrist, “does it look like we’re getting five star treatment here?”

“I just need to know where Steve went,” he says calmly, and you’ve never wanted to punch somebody more.

“You better go get a bad cop then. Cause I’m not giving up my father.”

“You see that? I just knocked the A out of their AV, we have about 30 seconds before they realize it’s not their equipment,” he says, messing with his watch. “Clearly I made a mistake, y/n. I was wrong.”

“Well that’s a first,” you quip.

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he’s about to need all the help he can get.”

“Then get me out of here so I can help him,” you grit out, but he shakes his head.

“Y/n, you’ve known me for years. You know who I am,” he tries to argue.

“No I don’t. The Tony I knew never would’ve let them lock us up like this,” you say with a glare.

“I’m trying to help,” He says calmly and you contemplate your options for a minute. You clearly can’t help from in here, and Tony’s telling the truth, right? He has to be, he wouldn’t betray you again. Would he?

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise he won’t end up in here.”

“I promise,” he says, and you take his word.

xxxxx

“Hey Clint,” you call softly, leaning back against the freezing wall of your cell. You ignore the way you’re shaking, and the way your lips feel cold, undoubtedly starting to turn blue. There may be a bed in here, but they made sure the chain would keep you away from it, not that you’d sleep anyway. You don’t trust them enough to let your guard down like that.

“Yeah, kid?” his voice is just as soft, and he sounds as exhausted as you feel.

“Do you think we’re ever getting out of here?” you hear the sharp intake of breath and everyone in the room is looking at you. Before he can answer the doors open once again. You look down, not ready for whatever is walking though, only to see two familiar sets of shoes stop in front of your cell. You stand quickly, trying to make your way to them but the jerking of the chains snap you back into reality as you stumble back towards the wall. You watch as your parents eyes move to the shackle on your red wrist, dried blood covering your forearm from where you tried to pull out of it.

“Get her out of there,” your dad says, his jaw clenched and Ross steps forward, begrudgingly putting a code into the keypad on the wall. Suddenly everyone’s cell doors slide open, a few guards move to take Wanda’s collar and straight jacket off while one unlocks the shackle on your wrist. As soon it’s off your mom steps forward, presumably to hug you but you flinch away, back slamming against the wall.

“Y/n, it’s okay,” she says, raising her hands slowly as if you’re an animal she doesn’t want to startle.

“Okay?” You snap, “what part of this is okay? The part where we were fighting each other in an airport 36 hours ago? Or the last 24 that I’ve spent in this cell? The chains around my wrist? The collar on Wanda’s neck? Maybe the fact that I haven’t been given food since before Germany. Or the fact that I’m sure I would have passed out from exhaustion by now if I weren’t so scared of what happened if I fell asleep. The part where they tried to torture me for your location? Have you ever been waterboarded before? Because I have, and let me tell you, it’s not fun,” you ask your dad before turning to your mom. “Maybe the part where I had to watch my family fall apart in front of my eyes, or the part where you watched them arrest me and did nothing,” angry tears are welling in your eye for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few days. “None of this is okay.”

There’s a silence in the room as everyone takes in what you’ve said. Your parents are looking around, waiting for someone to disagree with you, tell them you’re exaggerating what’s happened to you, but nobody does.

“You’re right. None of this is okay. What happened is not okay, but we’re leaving now. We’re going to get you all out of here, and we’re going to start making it better,” your mom says gently, her voice cracking. You let her take your hand now, wincing as her fingers brush against your wrist, “we’re going to make this okay.”

xxxxx

Apparently “getting out of here” did not mean going home. It meant cleaning up in the bathroom on the jet and going straight to capitol hill for a special hearing congress was holding to decide whether or not you should be pardoned. You were sitting outside with Wanda because apparently you were allowed to be held captive and tortured for war crimes, but you weren’t allowed to listen in on a congressional hearing until you were eighteen.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask her, trying to break the silence. You almost regret asking as she starts to shake a bit.

“I will be,” is all she says, silently taking your hand and leaning into your side. You understand the feeling, and the need for comfort. So you sit silently, gripping her hand tightly as you try to relax. The two of you sit for a while longer until you see your parents exiting the meeting room, eyes set on you.

“They want to hear from you.”

“What?” your jaw drops at your mom’s words.

“They want the perspective of someone who knows the team, someone who can understand why we did what we did. They decided that was you,” your dad says and you nod, standing on shaky legs and walking into the courtroom. There’s cameras flashing everywhere and reporters yelling questions. You set your eyes to the front, your mom’s hand on your back pushing you forward until you reach the microphone. You carefully sit in front of it, crossing your hands on the desk to hide how hard they are shaking.

“Please state your name for the record,” the congressman says as the room quiets down.

“Y/n Romanoff-Rogers,” you say into the microphone, wincing at the feedback as you get too close.

“You are here today to speak on why you believe the actions taken after the Sokovia Accords were signed were rational, and why your team should be released from federal custody, free of any and all charges. You may proceed,” he says and you take a deep breath, trying not to think about how badly this could end for you if this goes south.

“I’ve seen the Avengers in a light that no one else truly has. You all get to see the badass superheroes-am I allowed to say badass in court?” you glance at your parents, your mom stifling a laugh as your dad rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you see them save lives. I get more than that. I got to see the side that took in a 12 year old girl, because she had nowhere else to go. They could’ve turned me away, sent me packing. Plenty of other foster homes did, six to be exact. But they took a chance on me and I got to see them as a family. My mom, who sat by my bed all night for the first few weeks that I lived with them, because I had nightmares when I was alone. Who tried as hard as she possibly could to keep me out of the field, even though I could pick up my motorcycle with one hand, because all she wanted was for me to be safe. My dad, who told awful jokes and teased me about the crushes I had. Who was gentle and kind despite being twice my size.

“I got to see the side of Wanda who was a scared teenager, just wanting to fit in like everyone else. Who wanted nothing more than to do right by her family and the people she loved. I got to see them all as people, not heroes. Everyone in that tower just wants to do what’s right and what’s best for everyone, and this time we couldn’t agree. A lot was on the line. Not just a failed mission, or a few injuries to deal with. It was the destruction of everything we’d all worked so hard for. It was jail time in a place I know I’ll be having nightmares about for years to come. The people we were dealing with had no problem sending people to a military black site. Had no problem sending two teenagers there, and torturing them to get what they wanted. And that scared us all, to the point where we were willing to lose everything we had to do what we believed was right. Maybe we were wrong, maybe we weren’t, but there’s no saying the people put in charge would have always been right either.

“Too many of the people on my team know what it’s like to have no say. To be used as a weapon in someone else’s agenda. There was no way any of us could let that happen again, even if it meant losing everything. We broke the law, yes, but historically laws haven't always been right. Mankind has done awful things that were perfectly fine in the eyes of the law. Locking my family away was legal. It doesn’t make any of it right.”

“Thank you, Miss Romanoff-Rogers,” the congressman says before the room is emptied for the voting, and you’re sent home to wait. It all seems very anticlimactic, but if you’re going back to prison, you’re not going to say no to one more night in your own bed first. The ride back to the tower is silent, everyone’s nerves are palpable but nobody is ready to talk about it. You step out of the van to a sea of photographers and people yelling your name, but one shout in particular stands out. You see MJ weaving her way through the crowd and grin as she slams into your arms. You hold her tight for a few moments, before pulling her away and ushering her inside.

“How are you?” she asks once you’re in the elevator, not caring that your family is listening in. You shake your head, letting out a long breath before answering.

“Tired. Stressed. Scared. Exhausted. Glad that you’re here,” you list off and she smiles.

“Considering you said two different versions of being tired, it sounds like the first thing on the agenda is a nap,” she says and you chuckle a bit, the rest of your family nodding in agreement.

“I’d say so. We’ve been awake for, what...two days?”

“Three,” Wanda corrects as you all step out into the common room.

“Yeah, a nap is definitely the move right now,” you grab MJ’s hand leading her towards your room.

“Leave the door open!” your dad calls after you as you flop onto the bed. You roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. Nothing is back to normal yet. Nothing is fixed. It’s quite the opposite actually. You have relationships to mend, trust that needs to be earned back on both sides, a lot to talk about, and a lot of trauma that needs to be worked through, but laying here with MJ in your arms and your family all back on the same side, it seems like a step in the right direction. 

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Series tag list: @hannahsairwas @niquey-salvatore @ibe-anne @lostlittlenerd @youarethereasonimsmiling @ohfuckno @marvelousmendess @jelly-fishy-babie @whattheheckisevengoingon

[joontier]

Parallel Palpitations | V1; report i

pairings: dr. park jimin x female reader 

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: romance, slice of life, humor

warnings: none to note

word count: 2k

g/n: this is just an intro basically ksjdfksjdf but i’d also like to inform yalls this coincides with the Subliminal in Scrubs universe (jk’s installment of TWA) 

Parallel Palpitations (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Closing his locker with his foot, Jimin tries to carefully balance his books placed precariously on top of each other in his arms as he walks back to the dean’s office where he’s also arranging most of his stuff to take home. It’s already been a week since he’d officially graduated medicine from Busan National University, and he had only kept going back to school to gather all his belongings so he could start reviewing. 

“Jimin, is that you?” The question almost knocks clumsy Jimin off his feet, surprised at how there was still any other person in the office besides  Kyungjo who was also collecting his stuff to take home. Jimin sets all of his books down first on a desk and turns, only to come face to face with none other than Jeon Jungmin himself, associate professor and chairman of the Jeon Medical Center. 

“Professor Jeon! Good evening Sir...It’s already late, professor?” 

Jeon Jungmin laughs, patting Jimin on the back, “I was going to say the same to you kid. You should go home.” Jimin flashes the older man a small smile, “Ah...yes, Professor. I’m just grabbing the last of my stuff then I’ll be on my way. This won’t take long.” 

“It’s fine, Jimin. The staff know you well anyways,” Jungmin sighs, then rests his weight on a pillar as he puts his hands in his pockets. “You know, Jimin...you’re a very bright student...I think even one of the best in Korea if I do say so myself.” 

The young man momentarily pauses with what he’s doing, taking in the professor’s words, “Oh, I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Sir.” 

Jungmin chuckles as he shakes his head. “It’s true - you’re driven and you’re smart. It’s a fixed formula for someone who achieves great success in life later on. Your parents must be very proud. I would be too, if you were my son too.” 

“Thank you, Professor. Everything I do, I do for my parents.” 

The older man lets out a deep exhale and gives Jimin another pat on the back. “Just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a fine doctor Jimin - and the Jeon Medical Center would definitely need fine doctors like you. I realized I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I really hope you will choose JMC for your post-graduate internship. We have a good program here,” Jungmin’s voice goes down to a whisper, “If you wish to, just let me know…” 

Someone enters the office and bows to the both of them and recognizes the same man as the professor’s driver. The man collects the professor’s briefcase and coat with one nod of Jungmin. “Well, I’ll head off first, Jimin. I can give you a ride home if you’re done with those.” 

Jimin shakes his head quickly, declining the one and only Jeon Jungmin’s generous offer. He’s unsure about the other offer though, but if he lets himself get a car ride home with the chairman himself, the latter might take it as a favorable answer to his proposal to which Jimin is still undecided. “No thank you Sir. I’ll be alright. This might still take a while after all,” Jimin says with an awkward laugh, tapping the top of the stack which was rivaling Jimin’s height. 

“Alright Jimin. Get back home safely. And I...hope to see you again very soon.” 

Jimin gives him a curt nod. “Good night, Professor.” 

He continues on with his remaining tasks, wanting to finish quickly so he could finally go home and rest. “Is he gone?” Kyungjo’s voice startles Jimin, the book in his hands nearly causing the tower of books to collapse. “My god! Stop doing that!” Jimin scolds his friend as it wasn’t the first time Kyungjo’s sleuthing had given Jimin a fright. 

“Yeah, he left already. You done with your stuff?” 

“Uh-huh. All set and ready to step into the real world,” Kyungjo replies, waving his hands in the air. Jimin narrows his eyes at the other boy, judging him silently. Kyungjo has a particular inclination towards alcohol and Jimin wonders if today was one of the days where his friend indulges himself yet once again. 

“Have you heard about his actual son? What was the kid’s name again...uh…” Kyungjo snaps his fingers in mid-air as Jimin asks what was the issue with the chairman’s son, likewise reminding Kyungjo it wasn’t best to talk about it in the dean’s office. “Ah! Yes, Jeon Jungkook. Heard that their relationship got so bad that Jungkook completely cut himself off from the family once he graduated high school and went to Yonsei instead of BNU because of his daddy issues.”

Jimin, unsure how to handle and process that kind of information, simply shakes his head at Kyungjo. “It’s wrong to gossip about other people's lives like that.” When Jimin looks over at his friend, Kyungjo is no longer listening, fumbling with the remote as he turns up the volume of the office television. 

“In other news today, two thousand five hundred sixty one students of Seoul National University graduated this afternoon 25th of February, 2023. The ceremony was held at COEX Convention Center in Samsung-dong, Seoul to accommodate the number of graduates this year. With a yearly average of at least two thousand three hundred graduates, this year’s commencement ceremony records the highest number of graduates in the history of the national university. 

“Not only did they record the highest number of alumni, but this year also marks the first year to have a foreign national graduate as the school’s valedictorian.” Jimin is listening just as intently as Kyungjo now with both boys focused on the TV screen. “Jeong Yeorum, also known as Summer Jeong by her colleagues, graduates with flying colors today from Seoul National University’s College of Medicine. Here is part of her valedictory speech this afternoon.” 

A girl appears on screen and she stands behind the podium with a bright and reassuring smile on her face. “As we embark on the journey of the rest of our lives, I implore you all, to do what you love, because I believe it’s what you’ll do best. There will be countless times of trial, but keep in mind that perseverance will always prevail. Always aim for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars. Class of 2023, good luck. And remember, graduation is only the beginning.” 

“Wow!” Kyungjo claps his hands enthusiastically as he marvels at the girl. “The twenty-six year old, who along with her  family migrated to South Korea back in 2015 when her father was reassigned to an office here in Seoul. The valedictorian says she’s not entirely foreign to Korea as her paternal grandmother is actually a native of Jeju. Jeong Yeorum then attended a co-ed high school in Mapo District, where she likewise finished her secondary education with academic distinction.” 

The reporters, equally impressed with the girl’s achievements, couldn’t help but add their own comments to the news report, “Wow...I guess some people are simply born for greatness.” 

“I agree with you there, Dongho-ssi. We might be looking at the next Bae Jeonjoo, the only woman in the group of doctors who pioneered neurosurgery in South Korea. Ms. Jeong Yeorum, if you are seeing this, we’re rooting for your promising career. Fighting!” 

As soon as the news anchors proceed to report other news, Kyungko turns off the television and mentions the time. “Well, she was pretty cute, wasn’t she? Totally my type! Maybe when we get to Seoul to review, we’ll get the chance to meet her...and make her my girlfriend!” 

Jimin rolls his eyes at Kyungjo, placing a firm grip on the shoulder, “My friend...you are either drunk, hungry, or high. Either way, you should go home. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just close up here.” 

Kyungjo shrugs his shoulders. “You’ll still go, right? To Seoul?” 

“I will. Don’t worry.” Jimin gives the other boy a reassuring nod. 

“Still half half with the rent, a’ight? I’ll be counting on you, Jiminie...and don’t let me down. Also, tell me when you’re leaving for Seoul so I know when I’m not supposed to bring hot city girls home...they have the tendency to be...loud sometimes.” 

This boy was definitely high, and whatever substance he’s taking, Jimin wants none of it. 

“That’s your cue, Kyungjo. Go home and take a cab instead.” 

“I can drive! I’m not high or drunk!” Kyungjo puts his hands up in the air in defense. “Hey, look, I can even moonwalk!” He proceeds to dance wildly as he exits the office, leaving Jimin questioning how he even became acquainted with Kyunjo in the first place. 

You barely hear the sound of your name being called on stage when the audio of Hoseok’s loud whooping completely dulls that of your professor’s. “Oppa! Nobody would be able to make out my name with your audio input!” Playfully shoving your cousin’s phone back into his hands, you continue to mumble your complaints about the poor video quality. 

Indignant with your words, Hoseok retorts, “Hey! I’m not a professional videographer, alright? What’s important is the actual moment happening and not how the moment was captured!” Hoseok hooks an arm over your neck, bringing your head to his chest as he gives you a noogie. “Oppa, my hair!!” 

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you quickly pat your hair down but not delivering a solid smack on Hoseok’s back. As you’re fixing your hair, you weren’t able to put much thought into where you were walking, ultimately, and accidentally bumping into someone in a blue and black graduation robe similar to yours. 

Quickly, you look up, apologizing profusely at the person. “Oh! I’m so sorry- I…” “It’s okay,” the guy smiles a little, “_________, right?” You’re sure the surprise is evident in your face when he mentions your name when he barely even talked to you during the entirety of med school. “Yes! I mean...hello, Jungkook..” Clearing your throat, you quickly think of something to divert the impending awkward silence, “Well...um, congratulations to you for graduating as the batch valedictorian!” It now dawns on you that he really did graduate on top of the class, “Wow! You’re real smart!” comes your thoughts, unconsciously voicing them out. 

‘You’re real smart?’ Really? That’s the best you could’ve done? 

Jungkook chuckles, slightly taken-aback by your audible observation. “Oh yeah...um, thanks.” From behind you, you hear Hoseok clear his throat before speaking up. “Hello!” You hang your head low momentarily, already imagining Hoseok making fun of you later for this. 

“Right, Jungkook, this is my cousin, Jung Hoseok. Oppa, this is my classmate - Jeon Jungkook.” The two men shake their hands briefly before Jungkook speaks up, “Well, I’ve got to go now. Congratulations to you too Soomin. And Jung Hoseok-ssi.” 

As soon as Jungkook gets out of your sight, Hoseok nudges you with his elbow. “Please tell me that man was Jeon Jungmin’s son,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. Nodding your head, you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Got a crush on the dude?” Oh god. Here we go again. 

“No! Jeez.” 

“Why were you so awkward around him then?” 

“We barely talked in class. Hell, I don’t even think we were within at least fifty meters from each other.” 

“But he’s a handsome man?” 

“Maybe you’re the one that’s got a crush on him?” 

Hoseok glares at you. 

“Do you think maybe you’d know which hospital he might be interested in taking his PGI? Woocheon perhaps?” 

It’s your turn to glare at him. “I told you. This incident was only one of our very few interactions ever. I think the last time he talked to me was when he borrowed a pencil during a class and that’s it.” 

“Well...if you’d discover where, let me know. Because if he does apply for Woocheon, and we’d happen to get the girl from SNU too....” Hoseok nods his head slowly, stroking his chin “Woocheon will have the A-Team interns this year, you included.” 

You roll your eyes, resting your arm against the car door that Hoseok opens for you, “You really think that’s going to pay for you ruining my hair?” 

“No, but you’re going to thank me if Woocheon manages to snag the dream team!” 

© joontier 2021

[carmen-sandie-go]

100 Reasons Why You Should Stay Alive

1. Your friends, your family, and your pets would miss you.

2. It's not worth the regret. Either by yourself if you failed or just simply left scars, or the regret everyone else feels by not doing enough to help you.

3. It does get better. Believe it or not it will eventually get better. Sometimes you have to go through the storm to get to the rainbow.

4. There's so much you would miss out on doing.

5. There is always a reason to live. It might not be clear right now, but it is always there.

6. So many people care, and it would hurt them if you hurt yourself.

7. You ARE worth it. Don't let anyone, especially yourself, tell you otherwise.

8. You are amazing.

9. A time will come, once you've battled the toughest times of your life and are in ease once again, where you will be so glad that you decided to keep on living. You will emerge stronger from this all, and won't regret your choice to carry on with life. Because things always get better.

10. What about all the things you've always wanted to do? What about the things you've planned, but never got around to doing? You can't do them when you're dead.

11. I love you. Platonically. Even if only one person loves you, that's still a reason to stay alive.

12. You won't be able to listen to music if you die.

13. Killing yourself is never worth it. You'll hurt both yourself and all the people you care about.

14. There are so many people that would miss you, including me.

15. You're preventing a future generation, YOUR KIDS, from even being born.

16. How do you think your family would feel? Would it improve their lives if you died?

17. You're gorgeous, amazing, handsome, and to someone you are perfect.

18. Think about your favourite music artist, you'll never hear their voice again...

19. You'll never have the feeling of walking into a warm building on a cold day.

20. Listening to incredibly loud music.

21. Being alive is just really good.

22. Not being alive is really bad. And boring.

23. Finding your soulmate.

24. Red pandas. Just… THEY ARE SO CUTE!!

25. Going to diners at three in the morning.

26. Really soft pillows. Or blankets.

27. Eating pizza in New York City.

28. Proving people wrong with your success. Take that!

29. Watching the jerks that doubted you fail at life. Take that!

30. Seeing someone trip over a garbage can.

31. Being able to help other people.

32. Bonfires.

33. Sitting on rooftops.

34. Seeing every single country in the world. And not being ignored. Because, y’know, if you were dead everyone would run into you… it would suck.

35. Going on road trips. Have fun doing that as a ghost, or whatever.

36. You might win the lottery someday, who knows! How would you enter while you’re dead?!

37. Listening to music in your own special place.

38. Going to the top of the Eiffel Tower, staring down at everyone with the wind in your hair.

39. Taking really cool pictures.

40. Literally meeting thousands of new people.

41. Hearing crazy stories.

42. Telling crazy stories.

43. Eating ice cream on a hot day with your best friends.

44. More interesting books or episodes could come out, you never know. It’s gonna be hard to get books or watch Netflix/Hulu/Etc while you’re dead.

45. Travelling to another planet someday. It’s gonna happen.

46. Having an underwater house.

47. Randomly running into your hero on the street

48. Having your own room at a fancy hotel.

49. Trampolines.

50. Think about your favourite movie, you'll never watch it again.

51. Think about the feeling of laughing out loud in a public place because your best friend has just sent you an inside joke.

52. Your survival will make the world better, even if it's for just one person or 20 or 100 or more.

53. People do care.

54. Treehouses, you won’t really be able to have a treehouse while dead.

55. Hanging out with your soulmate in a treehouse

55. Snorting when you laugh and not caring who sees.

56. I love you. Platonically.

57. I care about you.

58. Because nobody is going to be like you ever, so embrace your uniqueness!

59. You won't be here to experience the first cat world emperor. You won’t even be influenced by it. 60. WHAT ABOUT FOOD?! YOU'LL MISS CHOCOLATE AND ALL THE OTHER NOM THINGS!

61. Starbucks. Or caribou coffee.

62. Hugs. The kind that makes you squeal because of how tight they are, the kind that you really love.

63. Stargazing with your favourite person in this universe at 4am because you can’t sleep, the grass brushing against your toes as you snuggle together.

64. You have a purpose, and it's up to you to find out what it is.

65. You've changed somebody's life.

66. Now you could change the world.

67. You will meet the person that's perfect for you. Maybe you already have.

68. No matter how much or how little, you have your life ahead of you.

69. You can’t look at any more memes if you're dead.

70. If you end your life, you're stopping yourself from achieving great things.

71. Making snow angels.

72. Making snowmen.

73. Snowball fights.

74. Life is what you make of it.

75. Everybody has a talent.

76. Laughing until you cry, with your stomach screaming and your lungs flaring in heat. Rolling on the floor, grinning ear to ear.

77. Having the ability to be sad means you have the ability to be happy.

78. The world would not be the same if you didn't exist.

79. It’s possible to turn frowns upside down.

80. Be yourself, don't take anyone's crap, and never let them take you alive.

81. Heroes are ordinary people who make themselves extraordinary. Be your own hero.

82. Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections.

83. One day your smile will be real. It will, I promise you.

84. Having a really hot, relaxing bath after a stressful day.

85. Lying on grass and laughing at the clouds.

86. Laughing insanely hard with your best friends.

87. Eating weird food.

88. Staying up all night watching your favourite films with a loved one.

89. Sleeping in all day.

90. Creating something you're proud of.

91. You can look back on yourself 70 years later and being proud that you didn't commit. And if you did, feeling regret that you did.

92. Being able to meet your Internet friends.

93. Coffee.

94. The new season of your favourite show.

95. Staying up late with your best friend.

96. Being stupid in public because you just can.

97. If you are reading this then you are alive! Is there any more reason to smile?

98. Being able to hug that one person you haven’t seen in years

99. People care enough about you and your future to come up with 100 reasons for you not to do this.

100. But, the final and most important one is just being able to experience life. Because even if your life doesn't seem so great right now, literally anything could happen.

I didn't come up with these but it don't make it less important. Just remember to smile at life, have a great day and be kind, love yourself : )