#when u have so many assignments to finish but u black out and suddenly the power of ur childhood comfort movie takes control over ur hands

[jwonsociety]

lovestruck // chapter 1

chapter two

pairing ➼ brother's best friend!niki x fem!reader

genre ➼ strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, kind of crack because y/n's internal narration is very silly, sunoo is y/n's older brother

word count ➼ 1.9k

warnings ➼ profanity, my writing kind of reads like a sitcom

synopsis ➼ As the younger sister of the smart and popular Kim Sunoo, you’ve gotten used to living life as a background character. You mostly keep to yourself, you don't go to parties, and you most certainly do not have a boyfriend. One day, Sunoo brings home one of his friends and encourages you two to get to know each other… the fact that said friend is extremely cute definitely won’t be an issue, right?

a/n ➼ sorry for being so inactive lately, school has been kicking my ass but i finally got around to finishing the first chapter of this fic!! lovestruck will be multiple chapters but probably not too many 🤙 the other parts are already almost fully written so expect another update soon! hope u enjoy!! 💘💘

˚₊· ➳❥

The majority of your life had been spent existing in your brother’s shadow. It’s not that you didn’t love Sunoo; of course you did. He doted on you just as any older sibling should and supplied you with plenty of life advice, even when you didn’t realize you needed it. Although Sunoo’s protectiveness of you could be annoying at times, you knew he always had your best interests at heart.

But, besides that, you had other problems to worry about. Currently, you were sat at the desk in your room, eyes glued to the chemistry textbook in front of you. You’d been soldiering on through this assignment for what felt like hours yet you still didn’t understand anything. Seriously, what the hell was an isomer? You swore that half of these words were made up. Suddenly, somebody knocked on the door, interrupting your homework-induced downward spiral.

“Come in,” you answered, peeling your eyes away from your work.

“Come in,” you answered, peeling your eyes away from your work.

Sunoo poked his head in and smiled. “Hey, y/nnie. What’cha working on?”

“Chemistry,” you sighed, “but I’m seriously considering dropping out of school just to escape it.”

He laughed and entered your room, peering over your shoulder. “I could help you with this if you want,” he offered. 

“Thanks, Sunoo,” you replied. You snapped the textbook shut and turned towards your brother in order to face him completely. “Did you need anything?”

He clapped his hands on your shoulders. “I just wanted to let you know that I have a friend coming over in a little bit. We’ll just be hanging out in my room, so we shouldn’t bother you.”

“Sunghoon?” you asked. The older boy was one of Sunoo’s best friends and a common sight in your household. Sometimes, he’d even enter your house without knocking. That definitely annoyed you.

“No, Niki’s coming over. Do you know him? He’s in your grade.”

Niki? You considered yourself well versed in the interesting cast of characters that your brother brought to your house, but you had no recollection of anybody named Niki. After you shook your head in the negatory, Sunoo sighed.

“Seriously, y/n, you need to talk to more people in your classes,” he scolded. “His real name’s Riki but he goes by Niki. He’s on the dance team with me -- the captain, actually. He’s super talented. You should introduce yourself when he comes over! He’s really chill, you guys would definitely get along.”

You hoped your distaste for Sunoo’s idea was not evident in your expression. After a long seven hours spent at school that day, your social battery was at a minimum. “I don’t know, Sunoo… I’m not even dressed properly.” You weren’t exactly ready for a meet-and-greet; you were currently sporting a pair of baggy, black sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that had a mysterious (likely coffee-related) stain near the front pocket.

Sunoo dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “Niki’s not gonna care. C’mon, please y/n? For me?”

Sunoo always tried to be your friendship wingman. He knew you were sort of “challenged” in the socialization department, and was constantly trying to get you out of your comfort zone. You appreciated his concern -- truly, you did -- but at the end of the day, your awkward exterior often repelled anybody within a five-mile radius. You were happily resigned to your life of minimal fraternization.

But Sunoo was giving you his best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip jutting out just so, making him look like a puppy in one of those “donate to a dying animal” commercials. God, you hated when he did that. You hated it because it worked every single time.

“Fine,” you groaned, and Sunoo celebrated his victory with a gleeful cheer. “But,” you continued, raising your finger pointedly, “I only have to talk to him for five minutes, and then I’m out.”

“Good enough for me!” he exclaimed, motioning to leave your room. “Come downstairs, he’ll be here any second.”

You pushed your chair away from your desk and got up, reluctantly following your brother down the stairs and to the kitchen. You sincerely hoped that this mysterious Niki character was extremely extroverted because he was definitely going to have to do most of the heavy lifting in the upcoming conversation. What should you guys even talk about? The weather? You buried your head in your hands. What were you thinking? He was a teenage boy for Christ’s sake, not your grandfather.

“Don’t get so nervous, y/nnie. I didn’t invite a serial killer to the house,” he assured. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “He’s pulling into the driveway now, I’ll go get the door.”

Sunoo headed for the foyer and you took a seat on a stool at the counter. You knew deep down that Sunoo was right and you were getting anxious over nothing, but you couldn’t help but be worried. He was in your grade, right? What if you said something really dumb and he told someone else you knew? You began to chew your fingernails.

You heard the quiet chatter of Sunoo greeting his guest and two pairs of feet approaching the kitchen. Putting on the best “hi, I’m not a creep!” smile that you could muster, you spun to look at the corridor and… wait.

Holy shit.

There stood your brother shooting you an expectant smile, and beside him was possibly the most attractive boy you had ever seen in your life.

The first thing that you noticed about Niki was that he was tall. Impossibly tall. It was safe to say he was a full head taller than Sunoo, his body long and slender like a model’s. His raven-colored hair was pushed away from his forehead, resting gently on his temples. The sunlight pouring in from the windows reflected off of the vast, hypnotizing darkness of his eyes, which were currently trained on you. The power of his gaze was so intense that you felt as if you might collapse in on yourself like a sinkhole.

The corners of his mouth quirked up into a small smile and you found yourself really wishing he hadn’t, because now you were staring at his lips. They were plush and pink, like a doll’s, and looked like he had just applied chapstick. To sum it all up in one word, he was gorgeous. Utterly and completely gorgeous.

“Niki,” Sunoo began, “this is my little sister, y/n. Y/n, this is Niki.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” he greeted. His voice was deep; so deep it almost startled you. You quickly realized that you really liked hearing him say your name. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You chuckled nervously. “Only good things, I hope.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I spare people all the horrible details about you,” Sunoo joked. He clapped his hands together. “I’ve got to move all my laundry up to my room really quickly, otherwise Mom’ll kill me. I’ll be right back! In the meantime, you two bond or something.”

Either sibling telepathy was a myth or Sunoo was choosing to ignore you because he exited the kitchen despite you aggressively shouting PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE in your mind. And just like that, you and Niki were alone.

“Suffocating” seemed like an appropriate way to describe the silence you were presently enduring. After watching Sunoo leave, Niki made eye contact with you for a brief moment before casting his gaze down to the floor. Honestly, Niki was kind of intimidating. Besides the fact that he towered over you, he was dressed in all black with his hands stuffed nonchalantly into his pockets, like a celebrity who didn’t want to get recognized at the grocery store. He stood there quietly, blissfully unaware of the fact that his presence was causing your brain to malfunction. 

Then, it dawned on you that this boy might be as introverted as you are. It almost felt like you were engaged in a battle to see who was the most socially inept; each of you waiting to see who can endure the unbearable awkwardness the longest until someone cracked and attempted to start a dialogue. You drew in a deep breath.

“So,” you began. “You know my brother from the dance team, right?”

The tension in Niki’s demeanor loosened up. He seemed grateful that you decided to say something first. “Yeah, I met him when I joined the dance team earlier this year.”

You tilted your head quizzically. “Earlier this year? Then why hasn’t he invited you over before?”

“We didn’t start getting close until a few weeks ago,” he explained. “We got assigned to teach a dance together to some of the kids at the middle school, and that’s where we got to know each other better.”

“Ah, I see,” you hummed, nodding. “I heard you’re the captain. That must mean you’re pretty good, right?”

Niki caught his bottom lip between his teeth and smiled bashfully, shyly shifting his eyes away from yours. Cute. 

“I dunno about that,” he murmured. “I just have the most experience. My parents own a dance studio, so I’ve been dancing since I was three.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, really? That’s so cool.”

Niki ran a hand through his hair, causing your heartbeat to stutter. He seemed to have gained confidence from your compliment. “Thanks, y/n. Dancing’s pretty much my whole life. Both of my sisters dance, too.”

So he had sisters. You couldn’t help but feel that you wanted to know even more about him. “To be honest, Niki, I had no idea who you were until Sunoo told me that you were coming over. We’re the same age, right? How have we never met before?”

Niki shrugged. “I guess we just never had any classes together. I mean, our school is big, so it’s not unrealistic for us to never have run into each other.”

“I don’t know, it’s just…” you trailed off, searching for the words. “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you.”

Niki smirked at that. He almost looked amused. “Are you saying that I’m the type of person that catches your attention?” 

You felt your face heat up. Was he teasing you? “It’s just that I- I, uh- you-”

Almost like an act of divine intervention, Sunoo decided to return to the kitchen at that very moment. You silently thanked him for saving your flustered self and prayed that your cheeks weren’t noticeably red.

“Alright, I’m done!” your brother announced upon his arrival. “Hope you guys weren’t depressed without me.” Turning towards the younger boy, Sunoo said, “Do you want to go up to my room, Niki?”

Niki smiled. “Of course, dude. I’ve been dying to see where the magic happens.”

“I really don’t want to know what that means, but okay!”

As they walked out of the room, Niki threw one last glance at you over his shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, y/n.”

You definitely liked it when he said your name.

[dloeza]

world's dumbest gijinka idea: veggietales jonah

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

[ibelongtowrath]

Private Lessons - Lucifer x Reader

You ask Lucifer for private lessons, deciding to go to his study dressed as a sexy schoolgirl. Let’s see if you learn your lesson.  Warnings/tags: 18+/NSFW, use of a riding crop for spanking, cockwarming. Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

“Come in.”

Lucifer sighs upon hearing your light knock against the bookcase, waiting for permission to enter the private study. He sets aside the endless stack of documents Diavolo had assigned to him on the desk of his private study, looking at them with disdain. He knows he’ll be up late yet again finishing them, and he can only hope the night is quiet so that he can get some semblance of a restful sleep later.

You had asked for private lessons with the Avatar of Pride, though he couldn’t fathom exactly why. A few months have passed since your arrival into the Devildom, and you seemed to be adjusting well to life here, save for the times you managed to get yourself into trouble, settling into your new routine and seemingly excelling in your classes.

Lucifer had patiently listened to your pleas as you begged him to help prepare you for an upcoming test. Much to his chagrin, he agreed, knowing Diavolo would insist upon the firstborn helping you. Admittedly, the thought of spending time with you outside of R.A.D. and student council meetings was pleasant.

The bookcase creaks upon opening, adding an eerie accent to the otherwise enchanting TSL soundtrack lilting from the speakers behind Lucifer’s desk. He lifts his head upon hearing the sound, accompanied by a strange rhythmic clacking sound. A few seconds later, you step into his view.

The sight before him causes him to drop his most expensive, ornate inking pen, clattering onto the desk and spraying droplets of ink across the shining oak.

“Just what did you think you were going to accomplish by wearing that…outfit, if you can even call it that, to our meeting?” Lucifer growls.

His intense crimson eyes rake over your scantily-clad body in both disdain and interest, unable to deny the appeal. They settle upon your breasts, barely covered by your green R.A.D. uniform shirt that has clearly been altered to a sleeveless, cropped shadow of its former glory. The buttons are mostly undone, your breasts practically spilling out of the top.

Lucifer’s gaze continues to make its way down your body. He studies the expanse of your exposed abdomen before moving to the low-slung, meager excuse of a red plaid skirt that barely covers your backside; your legs adorned by black knee-high socks and patent-leather heeled Mary Janes.

“What are you talking about?” you respond, looking down at yourself, though you are secretly pleased.

“You know exactly what I mean. Do not play dumb with me, dear; I know you are anything but. I am also very curious to hear why you thought it a good idea to defile the R.A.D. uniform shirt in such a way. Even Asmodeus wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”

“It needed some work. Asmo would be proud,” you retort. “So…are we going to get started on the lessons, or are you just going to lecture me about my clothes?”

Lucifer’s eye twitches in response. Internally, he fights a battle between logic and desire, thoughts beginning to cloud over as his gaze falls back to your thighs in that short, short piece of fabric you call a “skirt.”

After a few seconds, a wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his lip. You falter, tugging the hem of your skirt down, unsure of exactly what his look indicates. You tuck a strand of soft hair behind your ear as you await his response.

“That’s right, pet. You are here for a private lesson with me, are you not?” Lucifer purrs. He leans forward on his desk, resting his head on his gloved hands.

“Y-yes...?” you answer, unsure of the implication behind his question.

“Then, perhaps we should get started on that lesson promptly, don’t you think? Why don’t you come closer, my dear? Don’t forget your books, place them on my desk.”

Your heart begins to race, as though someone is in the driver’s seat, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. You purposely wore the outfit to get a rise out of Lucifer, and perhaps something else as well. Now that the opportunity was potentially presented to you, every nerve ending on your body suddenly felt electrified. Your heels click agains the laminated wood as you cross the room, standing before Lucifer’s desk. You place your textbooks on the desk as instructed, hands clasped together in front of you. Lucifer tsks, shaking his head.

“Now, now, darling,” he coos, “I told you to come closer. This won’t do.”

“U-um…,” you stammer. “Okay.”

Nervously traipsing to the side of his desk, you pause, pulling down the hem of your skirt once more. Lucifer grins before reaching for your arm, gently yanking you closer to him until you stand directly next to his chair. The Avatar of Pride tsks and chuckles, looking behind you, studying the floor.

“Shall I punish you for scuffing up the floor with those shoes as well?” he teases. “Well, well...I think I will just have to save that for another private session.”

The mention of a potential punishment, coupled with the close proximity to the demon, causes your legs to tremble slightly. As though he can sense the waves of desire practically rolling off your body, Lucifer smirks, tugging you ever closer. 

His rouge jewel-toned eyes bore into yours; beautiful yet expressionless, the demon lord knows how to maintain a composed facade, even when he is feeling anything but. The sight of your half-naked, scantily-clad body before him has him feeling feral, set on having his way with you. Though, like a feline toying with its prey, he fully intends to make you beg for mercy.

Slowly, not faltering for a single second, Lucifer reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk. He smiles as you watch him pull out a black riding crop, the way your eyes widen in surprise such a delicious feeling, igniting the sadist deep within.

“What’s the matter, pet?” Lucifer drawls. “Surely you have seen one of these before?”

“I have, but...,” your reply trails off, eyes transfixed on Lucifer’s gloved fingers gliding back and forth over the crop.

“A riding crop; its primary intention was for jockeys to whip their horses. They believed that the horses needed encouragement to run faster and win races for their human owners. Many believed it to be unjust and cruel to the animal...”

Lucifer turns the riding crop around, sliding it between your legs and smirking at your whimper. He rubs the tip of it back and forth over your panties, continuing his rhetoric.

“...however, its use has certainly evolved to other, more pleasurable, purposes since that time.”

The accelerator on your desire is now glued to the floor; pedal to the metal, with no intention of stopping. Arousal seeps into your panties as you mewl, the tip of the riding crop teasing you ever-so-slightly as Lucifer remains seemingly calm and collected. After a few more moments of teasing, he pulls the riding crop away from you. He examines the tip of it, feeling smug as he sees your abundant wet excitement decorating the crop deliciously.

“Well, pet, it appears as though I also need to provide you with some encouragement to assist you in the reinforcement of your lessons. Is that right?” Lucifer asks, feeling self-satisfied.

“U-um,” you stutter in response.

Lucifer moves closer to the edge of his seat and, without warning, reaches for your arm; tugging down, he bends you over his knee, folding your body in half over it. Your backside sticks up into the air, the flimsy fabric of your skirt flipped up in the effort. 

His cock twitches at the sight of your panties so openly displayed before him. He tugs at them, essentially ripping them off and discarding them onto the floor as he wraps his fingers around the riding crop, teasing the tip of it over the smooth skin of your now-bare ass.

“The first lesson of your private session that you have so boldy requested, my dear?” Lucifer growls. “Do not play dumb with me.”

He raises the crop up, whipping it hard against your ass. You clench your jaw at the sting, but remain otherwise silent. Once more, you hear the crop slicing through the air, smacking against the soft, sensitive skin; Lucifer relishes at the red mark it leaves behind. 

You hiss this time, unable to hide your reaction to the searing pain. His gloved hand presses against the stinging skin and you hiss again, your eyes focused on the floor; desperate to curl your fingers into something. 

“Have you learned your lesson, darling?” Lucifer hisses, pressing harder into your skin.

“Yes. Y-yes, I have,” you mewl.

“I don’t think you have. Not quite yet.”

Crack! The crop slices through the air once more, making a sharp cracking noise as it makes contact; a sharp contrast to the pleasantly cheerful TSL soundtrack playing in the background.

“N-ngh!” 

Your loud, pain-filled cry reverberates throughout the room. Lucifer’s cock hardens beneath his pants at the sound. He threads his fingers into your hair, gently yanking you back to a standing position next to him.

“There, there. That’s a good girl. Are you ready for your next?” Lucifer asks.

His free hand reaches for his pants, unfastening his belt. Your eyes stare, the stinging pain over your previous punishment almost instantly waning at the thought of his cock sheathed between your walls. Excitement practically dripping down your legs now that your panties are on the floor, you squeeze them together, fighting the urge to sink to your knees and beg Lucifer to have his way with you. 

As though sensing your eagerness, Lucifer’s wicked grin returns; though he hardly has to sense anything, you’re practically foaming at the mouth, more than eager for him to ravage you. His zipper comes undone and he tugs at the hem of his pants, pulling them down just enough that his now-hardened length springs out, enjoying the feral look in your eyes at the sight.

“Your next lesson, pet...”

Releasing his grip on your hair, Lucifer grabs your hips and pulls you in front of him, positioning you over his cock.

“...is not to tempt me, for I guarantee I can exercise much more control.”

As if in punctuation to his sharp words, Lucifer pushes your hips onto him, fully sheathing himself inside your tight, wet heat. A gasping, pleasurable moan escapes from between your lips. He holds back a groan of satisfaction, knowing he has to toy with you before he can have his way with you. His fingers wrap into your hair once more, yanking your head back, his lips whispering into your ear.

“You are going to be a good little pet and keep my cock warm while you study,” he hisses, nipping at your earlobe. “You are not to move around. If you behave, well...good girls earn rewards.”

Lucifer bucks his hips in emphasis, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“And if you think I will be the one to break first, pet, you are sorely mistaken. I have existed on this plane for millennia; it will be quite the cold day in Hell before the Avatar of Pride ever concedes. Now...open your book, and begin your studies. I will inform you when you are finished. Understood?”

“U-understood, Lucifer,” you whimper.

Leaning forward, you gasp, feeling Lucifer’s cock press against your most sensitive spot. You grit your teeth, grasping the Devildom Biology textbook and sliding it towards you as quickly as possible, desperate to get back to an upright position. 

Turning to the chapter on cell structure and healing rituals, you feel your body begin to tremble; your pussy practically quivering, desperate to roll your hips over Lucifer’s cock as he continually slams into you, not sit still between your walls. Lucifer reaches around you to grab his pen, resuming his work for Diavolo. He feels your trembling heat around him and smirks, running a hand along the curve of your waist.

“I do hope you’re studying, pet. You seemed so concerned that you won’t excel on the test,” Lucifer whispers.

Deciding not to dignify his taunt with a response, you furrow your brow, attempting to focus on the words before you, but ultimately failing. Your chest tightens, desire flowing through your veins, through every fiber of your being. It pulses through your heart, pumping into each part of your body.

Fuck this test, you think, sweat practically dripping down your brow. Your eyes slide to Lucifer’s gloved hand to your right, writing notes and signing papers as though carefree; a complete contrast to your state of struggle.

Your eyes skim over the words as you turn the pages, several jumping out at you, seeing the words rather than reading and comprehending them. Every nerve ending in your body feels on fire, especially between your hips. Your clit, the oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves, aches to be touched as your pussy is stuffed to the brim with the Avatar of Pride’s generously-sized cock. You squirm a bit, biting back a whimper of desperation.

Lucifer mentioned being alive for millennia. It certainly feels as though that much time has passed, an eternity of sitting on his fucking cock. Finally, finally, you reach the end of the chapter, heartbeat pulsing louder through your chest as you close the book slowly in anticipation. Several moments pass by as Lucifer shifts slightly behind you, the movement causing his cock to press into you once more. 

You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the moan that escapes your lips as he smiles smugly behind you, continuing his work, resolving to push you just a little further. Another eternity passes as your fingers grip the edge of the desk, desperate to hold onto something, anything, to keep your control.

“Well, well, pet...,” Lucifer purrs into your ear, biting and sucking on the lobe. “You did very well. I admit, I am pleasantly surprised. It takes a lot of discipline to exercise such control.”

Lucifer lifts your hips, pulling out of you and smirking as you whimper at the loss.

“Fear not, darling,” he continues. “I did say good girls get rewarded.”

Placing a hand on the small of your back, Lucifer pushes you forward, bending your body over the desk, pinning your wrists behind your back. You turn your head to look at him, desire etched all over your delicate features. He positions himself behind you, teasing his cock at your dripping entrance, relishing the way you whine pleasurably. 

Lucifer thrusts into you roughly, leaning forward and biting your shoulder.

“Now, time for your final task. Show me just how loud you can purr for me, my pet.” 

[apherod]

Rubian Soulmate AU

I finally finished writing it ahhhh

I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)

So here it is! Enjoy!

This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half. 

Word count: 4400

===

Liam

“Where did all these bruises come from?”

I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.

Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.

They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.

I think I’m going insane.

Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.

But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.

It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.

Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?

If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.

I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.

When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.

The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.

I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.

When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.

Turn off here. It urged.

The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.

Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.

I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.

Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.

“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.

Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.

You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.

He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”

“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.

“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”

Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.

“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”

He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”

Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.

Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…

“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”

Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”

Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”

And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.

I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.

Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.

I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.

Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.

I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.

I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.

When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.

Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.

Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.

Should I run? Should I stay?

I should run.

Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.

I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.

It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.

They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.

Right?

Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?

I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—

Oh, I found him alright.

Fuck. No. Fuck.

I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.

No.

Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?

What have I done?

If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.

I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.

+++

Ruby

“Ruby!”

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”

“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?

“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”

I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”

“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”

“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”

Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”

+++

Liam

“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?

On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.

“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.

“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”

“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”

“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.

Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.

“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.

“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.

I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.

The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.

“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.

“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.

“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”

That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.

We get them together, and we heal them together, too.

When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.

And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.

+++

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

[aka-indulgence]

So I wanna get back to writing but I’m not yet ready to tackle the big stuff or asks just yet and i was recommended to write a oneshot/short thing so.... yet again, conversations with @llamagoddessofficial​ brought an idea to life and I’ve been kinda obsessed with it <u<

----

Space.

Vast, hauntingly beautiful...

lonely.

Even though you’re far from alone on this station- there was a huge crew of humans aboard with you- being on a station always left you with this feeling of... isolation.

You were on lone station, far from the planet whence it was launched, circling the star from a distance. There was no obvious motivation for why you were in one right now- living in space has become commodity, just another way of living. But to say you and the crew were living in space “just because” wasn’t quite the correct answer either... a lot of the people onboard were researches, and you were simply a mechanic on the ship.

You’re distracted a little from looking out the window, at the stars, when you hear a little clank from the outside.

You can’t quite see what’s directly out the station from where you are, so you took a few steps further from the edges of the window and lean a bit into it. You can see a metallic leg, blue sparks from a torch... S4-N5 was out there, his eight legs firmly gripping onto the outside of the station while he was making some kind of superficial repair. As he did, he seemed to notice you, as his “skull” turned to the side, his artificial eyes with “lights” as pupils fixating on you. There was a glare so you couldn’t see him completely... he must’ve caught you in his sensors. You give him a little smile and a wave before he turned away from you to focus on the station.

Yes, humans weren’t the only crew members... there were also robots on this ship. They assisted in managing most of the ship to make sure nothing was falling apart, in order, and generally making the humans; lives much more comfortable, doing things that were deemed too risky for humans to do. They were categorized by intelligence, conveniently titled in three levels, at least on this ship. There were the I-1s, which... to be honest doesn’t seem to be “real” intelligence. They just remember what kind of coffee you like, for example, catering to your tastes, delivering things to your room, the roombas and toasters, those guys. I-2s has a more managing role, controlling the locks, the doors, gases, air, and all the calculating needed to keep the station stable. They have an AI, but they were mostly fixed to their programming.

Then there were the I-3s.... like S4-N5.

Much more intelligent than the other two, they’re mostly mobile, can react to things they didn’t originally have in their programming, do tasks, solves puzzles and problems... advanced learning AIs. Affectionately called “big three” by most people since they’ve become... slightly more common than before, they’re one of the most intelligent AIs created. S4-N5 (who you called “Sans” for short that everyone else picked up- “Es Four En Five” was quite a mouthful to say) was a mobile, mechanic robot. He was made to fix the major fixes in or out the ship, with eight legs to provide grip while he was outside to stop him from floating away, and two arms for all the fixing. He had tools stored in pretty much every part of him, including his legs- another reason why he had so many, er... limbs.

He had a head and upper body that looked strikingly similar to a human’s skeleton- despite having thick “bones” and a very rounded skull. Black “sockets” with lights serving as eyes... and a permanent, wide grin on his face. You’re not even sure why it’s there- but then again why did his upper body part have to look like a skeleton? Maybe it was just a design choice to make him less spider-y but... yeah he still looks like a robotic, spider skeleton.

What did S4-N5 stand for again? “Station something something”-?

“Hey how’s it hanging? you’ve been staring out for a while there. What, trying to tan your face?”

Your lips drop into a lopsided grin at the voice, feeling annoyed before you even see his face.

“Hi... Robert...” you turn around, straining your smile, “Yeah, I was just, thinking...”

“Oh yeah? What about?” You took a few steps back when Robert stepped uncomfortably close to you, leaning back on the window. You know the glass is made to endure but you start to play with your fingers looking at him.

“Oh just... hey, do you remember what ‘S4-N5′ stands for?”

“Ugh... the robot bug thing?” Robert’s “charming” smile turned into a frown at the mention, “Why do you wanna know?”

“I was just wondering because I saw him, I- nevermind...” guy probably has no idea...

“Those things don’t matter anyways, they’re probably just a bunch of numbers and codes to track which model and version of the robot is..” Robert made a pout with his mouth, looking like he wanted nothing more than to steer the conversation away from Sans.

“Hey do you wanna know what me and the boys did earlier?”

... Riiight back to him.

But that’s hardly just a Robert thing... everyone on the ship doesn’t really like talking about Sans. They seem to barely want to do ANYTHING with Sans. He has a reputation for being the creepiest robot on the ship, almost entirely silent, walking around with his eight legs like a giant spider, with that upper “skeletal” body with the grin that now that you’re thinking about it again may be so he’d look friendlier... instead doing the opposite.

You tune out of him for a while as he regales you with something stupid he did on the ship that has you wondering how he even got assigned to this station when you perk your head at the sound of the air-lock door hissing open, the sounds of metal clinking against metal.

“-and ah fuck, speak of the devil. You talk about him and there he is.”

You turn around and see Sans as the doors close behind him in all his glory. Standing almost at twice your height, a shiny, metallic spider. His legs resembled knives, sharp with pointed joints, dividing a leg into three parts. His plated “abdomen”, equipped with machinery, energy storage, and a compartment for supplies suspended above the legs, holding up his torso.

You knew those legs are for mobility, grip, and tools, while the abdomen served to keep all of his body parts in check... but even you had to admit his likeness to spiders could be a bit unnerving.

“Ugh, look at that thing...” Robert whispered to you, as if Sans would take offense to whatever he was about to say, “he’s so fucking creepy, c’mon, why don’t we go somewhere else?”

He looked like he was about to take you by the arm before you jerked away from him.

“Why? He’s just doing his thing, he’s not made to hurt us, just relax!” you hiss at him. You knew Sans could be pretty creepy to some people, but he’s just being childish right now.

“Are we looking at the same thing? I- look, now it’s staring at us,”

You took a glance behind and sure enough, Sans was facing you, with only his head turned to you. You saw how his “pupils” focused, fixating on the nearby humans.

Is it just you or did his eyes look.. more intense than usual..?

“Do you see that? It looks like it’d fucking kill you in your sleep, don’t go out the ship with it (Y/n), it’d probably snip your tether, sadistic fuck.”

“What is wrong with you? He’s just doing his job can you just leave him alone?” You knew Sans was an AI but... it just felt wrong to be talking about him that way in front of him.

“What, because he’ll listen to me?” Robert scoffed, before his definite scowl turned into something less confident. “... actually yeah I don’t like that, so come on let’s go get some food or something.”

“You can go ahead and do that, I...” think of something think of something, “... need to go to the supply room for a moment. I think I’ve got something to fix and I’d rather finish it now rather than later.”

You walk on ahead without letting Robert reply, hearing his slightly distressed sounds of frustration.

“I- ok fine, I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

You hold your sigh until you get into the supply room, for once wishing you had a task to do as you look at your E-Pad.

One lose pipe at Section 8... least priority... what’s is it I need...

You don’t really have to do it, it’s hardly a human-specific maintenance job, but you didn’t want to just be hanging around outside while you wait for Robert to clear out of the cafeteria, because you’re starting to feel peckish.

Your mind goes a bit blank, staring at some spare pipes in front of you. You pick them up with no real intention in your mind, your mind just throwing around the word ‘pipe’ in your head and your hand just grabbed the nearest thing related. It was mostly quiet in the room, aside from the sound of air flowing out of the ventilation system and providing white noise in the background. You completely lose track of what you’re doing, just killing time in the most useless ways possible when...

Clink. Clink.

You hear... Sans’ legs clanking around outside. Something about the sound makes you go still, gripping tighter onto a pipe that just so happened to be in your hand. It was slow, deliberate movements... your heart rate quickened. Something about that quiet noise, sounding so loud when the room was so quiet felt you with this primal dread. You could hear your heart beating in your ears.

He was approaching the door...

Why were those legs so chillingly horrifying to you sometimes?

... No no, it’s ok he’s just... walking by...

The clanging stopped right outside the door while you bore holes into the pipe with your stare. keenly aware of Sans’ movements.

...

The hissing of the sealed doors opening almost makes you jump out of your skin, goosebumps suddenly breaking everywhere all over your skin as you make the mental note that: Sans opened the door.

As he steps inside, those quiet, tapping noises... you shake off your discomfort, ignoring the uncomfortable chill climbing up your spine the closer he sounds.

You said it yourself earlier. He’s harmless, he’s just doing his job... probably needs to take something. You’re in the supply room, remember? He may be a robot but treating him like he’s a monster just didn’t sit right with you when his sole purpose is to keep the ship intact.

You mess around with the pipes some more, trying to make it look like you’re busy gathering supplies, or something. He’s probably come to get supplies himself, he always resupplies the spares in his abdomen for future fixes before going to neutral mode.

You hear his movement doesn’t stop, every step he makes sounds like a whole second, and he keeps coming closer and closer and closer... until he’s directly behind you.

You sweat a little, the proximity making you a bit nervous, feeling like you’re being scrutinized.

He’s completely silent, and the silence stretches on longer than you’d think... what’s he doing? His shadow fell over you, unmoving, stationary. After a while you couldn’t stand it and turned around to see what he was doing-

Squeaking a little when you saw he had bent down so he was at your eye level, finding yourself face to face with him.

“O-oh hey Sans!” You greeted him cheerfully, though your heart threatened to leap out of your chest just a second earlier.

“Hello, Crew-Member 55.” He tilted his head to the side a bit, like he was confused by your reaction.

“I’m... sorry, you surprised me, I didn’t think you’d be that close. Did you... need anything?”

You’re so close to him that you could hear his eyes as his pupils widened and narrowed, focusing on you, see all his individual “teeth” of his, looking like a big, wide cheshire grin.

“... tool set complete.” He says, one of his automated responses. “It seems that you need something, 55. Do you require assistance?”

You looked at the pipe still clutched into your hand and drop it back into the latch. “I... yeah, actually. There’s a... a loose pipe in section 8, can you help me get the tools I need?”

“...” Sans tilted his body back, and you could hear again the whirring in his eyes as he focuses.

“... no tools required.” he finally says, surprising you a bit. “I can manage it for you, 55. You do not need to fix it.”

“Huh?” You checked your E-pad, and sure enough, the task was labelled as “taken by S4-N5”.

“Oh.. thanks Sans, you didn’t have to do that.” you smile at him, and... was it just you or did his grin widen a bit?

“I’ll uh... leave you to that then...” you slip out from the end of the room he had you cornered in- not going to lie, being trapped by a giant metallic spider didn’t seem very comfortable to you. His head faced you the entire time, his head turning 180 degrees. You almost rushed outside a bit to escape his gaze, but then you stop right at the door.

“Oh Sans, can I ask you a question?”

He’s silent. You take it as a ‘yes’.

“I... haha, sorry I forgot... what does S4-N5 stand for?”

“Station 4, Neurocognitive 5.” He responds as soon as you’re done speaking. “Station 4 refers to the station I am assigned: a star revolving station. Neurocognitive refers to my AI: Cognitive. I don’t have real neurons, however I am named so because I simulate one. Was that clear and concise, 55?”

You stagger a bit, for some reason you had.. human expectations for him? You didn’t think he’d reply you with such a detailed explanation of his name.

... you smile at him.

“Yes it was. Thanks, Sans, I appreciate it.”

“A pleasure, 55. Have a pleasant day.”

Of course, his response was robotic but... he is a robot. And... maybe you’re anthropomorphizing him a little but it sounds like he had emotion saying it.

You come out with a little spring in your step. Guess you’ll just check the cafeteria... if Robert’s there you can just go to your crew room and wait him out there. At least you didn’t have anything to do today.

You hear the sound of Sans shuffling around the supply room, probably getting what he needed to make the maintenance before he shuts the door. You hear him stepping away from you to Section 8. You hear another door open, his metallic legs coming to a halt.

“Oh hey whoah- hey!” You hear Robert’s voice, startled, staggering back to the door. You hear Sans skitter back as well, much faster than you heard him walking earlier.

“Please step away.” His voice, suddenly much colder and robotic sounded. “Please step away.”

You turn around and see Robert grasping the toilet door (guess he hadn’t immediately went to get food), trying to make as much space as he can from Sans, while Sans was pressing himself to the other side of the corridor, his eyes... much sharper than you saw them before. They looked almost.. hostile(?).

“Man I’m trying- move!”

“Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away. Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away.”

Everything becomes static again as you focus on what Sans is saying.

Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away.

"This is a safety precaution. Please step away.”

...

You were much, much closer to Sans when he had you trapped in the supply room.

[kyber-crystal]

➳ pickup lines || s.w.

summary: you’re oblivious to the fact that sam, your best friend is hopelessly in love with you. and it kills him inside because he’s been dropping hints for as long as he can remember. 

warnings: none, just fluff and a cliche best friends to lovers trope :) 

words: almost 2k

a/n: for @marvelsswansong​ ‘s late birthday present! sorry this was so late and that it’s so bad RIP i tried to write it in one go...anyway our boy sam deserves some more recognition sksksk

“Guess what this shirt is made of?” Sam smirked as he pointed at himself. “Boyfriend material.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a chuckle. “Oh, stop it.”

He slid into the seat next to you at the kitchen counter, swiping the spare muffin from your plate. “Y’know what’s on the menu today? Me-n-u.”

You just shook your head, spreading jam across your toast before biting into it. “Wow.”

“They say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth,” he cleared his throat, “well, apparently, nobody has ever been standing next to you. You are absolutely breathtaking.”

“I look gross,” you argued as you tried to hide your face with one hand, “I got three hours of sleep after helping Bruce in the labs and I’m a mess.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You always look beautiful. Especially to me.”

Even if he was joking, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at his comment.

“Oh my god, will you shut UP,” Bucky groaned. “You’re cheesy as fuck, Wilson.”

“You’re just jealous because nobody likes you,” Sam retorted. 

“Ooh, shots fired,” you whispered, cupping your hands around your mouth, “need some ice for that burn, Barnes?”

“He isn’t wrong, though,” Wanda shrugged, pouring herself a mug of coffee, “the chemistry is evident here. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten together yet.”

You let out a long sigh and went back to focusing on finishing your meal, not noticing the several glances Sam stole out of the corner of his eye at you.

...

“Y/N. “

“Natasha,” you replied without breaking your concentration on murdering the punching bag in front of yourself. 

“Girl, how long are you going to keep this act up for?”

You dropped your fists by your side, sighing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You and Wilson.”

“What about it?” you questioned as you began unwrapping the tape from your hands. She handed you your water bottle and you took a long sip, “We’re best friends. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Best friends or not, he clearly likes you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: you’ve been the most oblivious idiot ever. If what he’s doing isn’t obvious enough, then I don’t know what is.”

“He does not. Sam’s just being Sam. That’s who he is. It’s in his nature to joke around.”

“Does he use pickup lines on me in every other sentence he speaks? No. Does he do that to Bucky? Never-”

“Because him and Bucky are rivals, and you guys are just f...”

“Just friends! Babe, you proved my point.”

“Oh, shut up...”

“If you don’t take matters into your own hands, then I will. You keep turning the poor man down and you don’t even know it. Tragic.”

“Natasha, I do not like any-” The redhead gave you her signature ‘look’, crossing her arms over your chest. Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“What reason do you have to be scared? You’ve gotten shot, you’ve led countless teams into battle before, you’ve taken out aliens with the power of your fists alone. Hell, we survived the Red Room together, and you’re afraid of catching feelings?”

“What if I embarrass myself by telling him?”

“Are you nuts? He’d be over the moon if you did so much as react to what he said. Poor guy’s feeling discouraged by your poker face. Give him a chance. He’s your best friend, you don’t wanna ruin the relationship you have together.”

“Fiiiiiine.” You whined and tossed your sweaty towel at her. “Now leave me alone so I can go take a shower.”

She laughed and tossed it back. “Alright. Tell me when you’re officially dating!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you too, babe!” she called out after you as you left the facility.

...

“SAM!” you yelled from the bathroom “Get your ass over here!”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked innocently as he peeked his head through your doorway. “You need something?”

“I forgot to bring a shirt with me. Can you get mine from the laundry? The black one?”

“Yeah, of course.” You heard him shuffling around before falling silent, then there was a knock on your door. “Here. Take this.”

“Thanks,” you nodded before taking the shirt and closing the door behind you. 

You looked down and let out a groan when you realized he’d mixed up the shirts and given you his instead - a V-neck you’d seen him wear plenty of times when you, him, and Steve went on morning runs together. It was ridiculously tight on him and you absolutely hated it because you couldn’t help but stare. But you didn’t like him. Definitely not.

Right?

Right.

You trudged down the hall to the kitchen, walking into to see Bucky’s and Sam’s awaiting smirks.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Samuel, where is my shirt?”

“Dunno,” he feigned innocence, “I got mixed up.”

“Okay.”

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together,” he sent you a finger gun and a flirty wink. 

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re such a sap.”

“Y/N! Hi!” Peter dropped his backpack and rushed forward, tackling you into a big hug. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise but quickly returned the gesture, ruffling his hair playfully. “Hey, kid. How was school?”

He made a face. “Sucked. I actually need your help with an assignment. I’m supposed to interview three role models in my life about stuff and Mr. Stark is in the middle of a conference call right now so...yeah.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Me? I’m not special-”

“If you weren’t special then Ned wouldn’t constantly fangirl over you to me. He always asks me if it’s true you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and hands.”

You chuckled. “I feel honored. Count me in, Queens.”

The two of you headed off to the labs together, and as soon as you left, Sam let out a loud groan, his face falling into his hands. “She doesn’t get it. I keep throwing hints her way but she doesn’t get it at all. I don’t understand. What exactly am I doing wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t an openly affectionate person. She rarely ever tells people how she feels. She usually conveys her emotions through killing her enemies and channeling all her energy into punching bags,” Bucky replied simply. “And the occasional Mario Kart deathmatch. She’s not very easy to read.”

“Even I had a hard time getting to her,” Wanda admitted. “She’s very...private. Prefers to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Does she even have any sort of clue?” Sam looked over at the young woman with a desperate look in his eyes. “Otherwise I’ve been humiliating myself all this time, for nothing.”

“She likes you, but she’s too afraid to admit it,” Steve suddenly spoke up. All heads turned in his direction. “It’s a thing I picked up from my ma when I was young. I can read into body language. And hers, well...she likes you, Sam. She’s just very subtle about it.”

Hope glimmered in his eyes. “She does? So she doesn’t mind my pickup lines?”

The super-soldier laughed. “As terrible as some of them may be, yeah, she doesn’t. I’ve seen her walk away flustered many times.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re gonna win her over, once and for all,” Natasha declared. “And we’re making sure of that.”

...

“Y/N.”

“Pete.” You glanced over at the teenager, who had stopped furiously scribbling notes down in his notebook, “what’s up?”

“What’s up is you and Sam.”

“What about us?” You quirked an eyebrow. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The boy wrinkled his nose, “I know he likes you, and you like him. So why do you keep pushing him away?”

“Peter-”

“Y/N, I’ve known about this since we first met. So why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s trying his hardest to win you over and you’re refusing to budge! I bet he feels so bad about it.”

“Oh, God, I know...” you rubbed your forehead and let out a long sigh, “I just don’t know how to react.”

“Send a pickup line right back at him! He loves pickup lines, so gauge his reaction on that!”

“Alright...”

"Back to Chemistry! Which you two clearly already have...”

“Queens!”

“Okay, okay!” You both burst into laughter. “Okay!”

The team had all agreed on an outdoor barbecue, so you all gathered outside on the massive rooftop of the compound to eat dinner. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Rhodey were busy flipping the meat, Wanda and Pepper were setting up the refreshments, while the others were lounging around and casually conversing with one another. 

You noticed Sam standing alone by the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared out ahead at the horizon. He seemed to be deep in thought, but as soon as he turned around and saw you approaching him, his face lit up with a grin that the others knew he only had when you were around. 

“Hey,” you offered him a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes - the early evening glow only made him look better than he already was. “Penny for your thoughts, Wilson?”

“Are you a magician? ‘Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears,” he stated.

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” you replied smoothly, taking him by surprise. This was a first --

“Am I dreaming, or did Y/N just send me back a cheesy pickup line?”

“I did,” you laughed lightly, breaking into what he thought was the most beautiful sight on earth - a million-dollar smile. He’d never forget it. “How’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. You?”

Your face fell momentarily, and he felt his heart drop at the same time. “Could’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You took in a deep breath before responding. “Fury’s got me leading Team Alpha in a recon down south in the Outer Banks. Then as soon as I get back, I’m called to represent the team at a press conference about disaster relief. After that I’m stuck filing reports for a solid six hours and I end up only eating one meal that day. So yeah...it’s been pretty rough.”

“Did you make up for all that lost sleep, though?”

“A little. Compared to my typical three hours, I’d say 5 is a good enough improvement.”

“Progress is what matters. And you did that,” he nodded. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to...you know I’m always here, right?”

“Definitely. That doesn’t eliminate our weekly Mario Kart competitions with Bucky, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

You stood there in silence for who knows how long, until he spoke up again.

“Did you know that when you smile, you can’t breathe?”

“Really?” You looked straight at him and gave him the brightest smile your face could produce. 

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you smile.”

At that moment, all the Avengers immediately stopped what they were doing and froze on the spot. 

“I think you broke her,” Peter whispered as he poked you in the shoulder multiple times, and you didn’t move. “That was smoother than butter.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out, face burning with heat - the butterflies in your stomach had turned to hummingbirds. Since when did he make you feel this way?

“Yup,” Bucky coughed, “she’s definitely in love with him.”

"I’m not in love with him, I love him. I have for a while,” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t catch what you said. 

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be left speechless.

[thisiswhatshefelt]

For Olivia | Chapter Two

Summary: Line cook Johnny “Coco” Cruz has made many bad decisions in his life, but his biggest regret is not being a part of his children’s lives. He reconciles with his teenage daughter, Letty, so he’s hopeful when he shows up on his four-year-old daughter’s doorstep. Shanice Hunter, a newly-appointed guardian, is determined to protect Olivia from anything— even if that means her own father.

Pairing: Chef!Coco x Black!OC Previous Chapter: One Warnings: This chapter kind’ve deals with a deadbeat parent, but we’re still in fluffy territory for now. Word Count: 2.7k

Chapter Two

~Six months ago~ Mel calls from outside the apartment the night. She’s at the door wearing the same smudged eyeliner she left with two days before, but she’s replaced her party dress with cheap, baggy clothing that are three times too big for thin frame. Her once flat ironed hair is reverting at the edges of her hairline. Shanice quietly eases outside so they can sit together on the steps.

“Do you remember when I first had her, and I begged you to take her? You promised me that I would learn. That I would get it right.” Mel rings the sweatshirt between her hands as if squeezing water from the fabric. Her hands become dryer between her fingers and at the knuckles the more she works her hands. “I’ve never gotten it right, ‘Nice. Not one time, so I’m asking you again–Please. Just until I get it together. I have to figure something out.”

Shanice sees how exhausted Mel appears in this moment. The weight of something more than two sleepless nights darken under her eyes. She’s never looked this tired. “What happened over there?”

She smiles even though there are tears falling from her eyes. “What happens in Vegas…” Shanice just stays silent, looking at her friend. Seeing the fracture splinter out even more. When she reaches out to pull Mel’s hand away from the bedraggled clothing, Mel’s lip begins to tremble. “He took everything, ‘Nice. Maxed out all my credit cards before I even realized he wasn’t coming back to the hotel room. A-All my jewelry, I don’t…”

“Oh, Mel,” Shanice says, and it’s all she can say as she moves herself closer to embrace the scared woman. “You can stay here with me until-”

“No, I can’t,” Mel objects, shaking her head and pulling away like she’s been burned. Shanice is about to insist, but Mel’s hand between them quells anymore protests. “I can’t. I have to do this on my own. Will you take her? It would just be until she starts Kindergarten–”

“Of course, Mel. I love her.”

The wrinkled paper, which she realizes is torn from a roll of receipt paper, now sits taut between her pinched fingers. It had his name and number scrawled on one side in handwriting that didn’t look that much different from the scribbling Olivia brings home from preschool.

Shanice doesn’t sleep well after Johnny appears on the doorstep. She doesn’t even leave Olivia’s bed when the bedtime stories end. For hours, she lays beside the girl, recalling past conversations she’d had with her best friend.

It feels strange to still call her ‘best friend’ now, though. Life divides Shanice and Melanie’s paths after college, but they regain closeness once Mel suddenly becomes pregnant and names Shanice the godmother. Shanice plays guardian even before Olivia is born, making sure Mel takes her prenatal vitamins and makes sure she keeps up with her doctor visits.

Now Shanice lays beside the girl so that their noses are almost touching, but her legs are too long for the mattress, so she has to tuck her knees up to fit. Loose strands of Olivia’s tight chestnut curls fall onto her eyelashes and Shanice tucks the strand back into one of her plaits.

Most people assume they’re related in some way because of how superficially similar they appear in passing. Shanice’s deep skin is just a few shades darker than Olivia’s tawny complexion. Their dark hair zig zags in soft, defiant halos when let out of the confines of twists or braids, but Mel is right there at the middle of Olivia’s face.

The bridge of her nose slightly widens before sloping into a rounded tip and it’s all Mel. Shanice leans in close to take in all of her scent before kissing her between the eyes and watching her breathe until sleep finally claims them both.

In the morning, Shanice is uncharacteristically sluggish, but that changes with her first cup of coffee. The morning ritual is completed with most of her mind on autopilot as Olivia talks at a million miles an hour through outfit changes and getting her hair styled into two French braids.

Shanice doesn’t realize she hasn’t been listening to most of the little girl’s one-sided conversation until the waffles pop up in the toaster. She juggles the hot waffles out of the machine and onto a plate before adding syrup and sliding it across the counter.

“Can we go?” Olivia taps her fingers on the counter, strumming her stubby fingers against the countertop.

“Wait, go where?” Shanice’s eyebrows knit together. She tries to recall the last few moments, but her mind is still on last night. The man at the door, and the panic she feels even as her face remains even. Coffee is a bad idea, but she’s now on her second cup.

“Can we go to the big park today. Please?”

“Funny,” Shanice says sarcastically. “I told you we could go this weekend, Mushroom, and it’s still–” Shanice makes a show of looking at her smart watch before her eyes land back on Olivia. “–yep, just what I thought. It’s still Thursday morning.”

Olivia clasps her hands together and squints her eyes as she squeaks out, “Pleeeeease-”

“Hey, hey, hey…ma’am.” Shanice isn’t very loud, but her words cut through just sharp enough to make a point. Olivia knows Shanice doesn’t tolerate whining and begging, so the little girl does the next best thing. Her shoulders slumped exaggeratedly, and like a sucker, Shanice falls for it as she quietly sighs. “If I get a good report from Ms. Wendy today, we can go to the playground at your school.”

“Kay!” Olivia’s eyes widen excitedly. “Can you tell mommy to come too?”

She can’t say that she’s been trying to call Mel all night, but the phone rings until the automated voicemail picks up. She wants her to pick up and ask how Johnny has her home address. It was better that the phone did go to voicemail because the conversation probably wouldn’t have been pleasant.

“I’m sure she’s gonna try her best to make it,” Shanice tells her just as her own waffles finish in the toaster. As she sips her coffee, she watches in slight disgust as Olivia smashes her bananas into each crevice of her waffles. “What’re you doing?”

“Makin’a waffles smooth.” Olivia fills some of the squares with the mashed bananas and takes a bite. “Want some?”

“Noooo thank you,” Shanice says, fervently shaking her head with a laugh. “I like my waffles with all the holes.”

After dropping Olivia off at preschool, Shanice makes her way to Damon Pope High School where she spends the first two periods with 9-12 graders, teaching them about the Harlem Renaissance before analyzing some poems by Countee Cullen and Langston Hughes. Teaching is exciting because she is always amazed at how astute these teenagers were with their analyzations. And their poetry is often some of the most beautiful she’s ever read. She’s excited to see the entries for the poetry contest this year.

At a free period, she shuts herself up in her classroom and tries Mel’s cell again. It goes straight to voicemail, and Shanice’s anger transforms into concern. She leaves another message, hoping for the best but thinking of the worst.

Shanice makes her way to Olivia’s preschool twenty minutes after the last bell rings and is there just as the first parents are leaving with their children. She’s soon inside and makes small talk with some of the parents and grandparents.

Olivia spots her and yells across the room of children and adults. “Aunty ‘Nice!” Olivia rushes over and grabs her hand before pulling her back over to the teacher, Ms. Wendy. “Tell her I was good, Ms. Wendy! Tell her!”

“Olivia…” Shanice tries to reprimand, but she finds herself biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Ms. Wendy doesn’t hold in her laugh, and her wavy blonde hair dances with every shake of her shoulders. “Well, Olivia is always good, but she was extra special today.”

Olivia is beaming, but Shanice tries not to roll her eyes as she sees the little girl grinning. They say their goodbyes and walk outside to the playground where Olivia runs immediately to the slides. Shanice picks up Olivia’s backpack from the grass where it sits abandoned in the excitement and stands off to the side to make another phone call. The phone doesn’t answer but she gets a text message a few minutes later.

Hey girl. Got your messages! Been really busy lately but I’ll be over ltr tonight. Tell Liv I got her a present!! Xo

Shanice decides not to tell Olivia about the text message because she’s heard this before. She spends time with Olivia who looks up every time someone walks near the playground, hoping one of them will be Mel, but she doesn’t actually ask about her mother. There’s a destructive amount of hope in her eyes that dies with every passing moment.

There’s that hope Mel will show even at eight that night when Olivia is fast asleep. Shanice still has hope, but she knows it won’t happen.

I have something important to talk about, Mel. It’s about Olivia’s bio dad.

At ten, Shanice’s phone buzzes in the middle of grading assignments.

Sorry! Forgot 2 tell u I gave Johnny yur address! I didn’t know what to tell him. figured you would know what 2 do??

Is Liv upset I didn’t show?? Tell her I’ll be there in a couple days xo

Shanice is so angry that she only replies with

She’s fine.

before tossing her phone on the other side of the couch.

It’s more than sending a complete stranger to her home. It’s more than ignored calls.

Figured you would know what to do.

But Shanice doesn’t know what to do. She really wants to keep Mel included in their life. Keep her included in the decisions she has to make for Olivia, but Shanice is slowly accepting that she’s alone in this now. She can’t keep playing the role of a glorified babysitter.

The piece of paper is still on the night table when she goes back to retrieve it. Her emotions are driving her as she paces back to the couch to retrieve her discarded phone, so she doesn’t realize how late it is until she hears the groggy voice pick up.

“Yeah, hello?” he answers.

“I-I’m sorry,” Shanice says now caught off guard. It’s nearly midnight. “Is this Johnny?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“It’s Shanice,” she tells him. “Can we meet?”

Shanice pulls her car into the Tres Reyes lot during her a free period the next morning. It’s a quaint white building with a terracotta roof that looks almost like someone’s home, if not for the large sign on the face of the building in bold letters.

Once inside the diner, she can feel the warmth from the kitchen blanket every bit of her skin, but it isn’t as oppressive as the heat from the California desert. The white from the outside also paints the wall inside, but there are bright Spanish tiles on the floor which makes Shanice feel like she’s stepping on artwork. She also now feels wildly overdressed in her pencil skirt, blouse and heels.

A few older Latino people are scattered throughout the diner while some college kids occupy most of the other tables.

“Cuántos personas?” a teenage girl asks, coming from behind a desk near the door. Shanice fights the teacher in her that wants to ask, Shouldn’t you be in class?

“Uh, dos personas, por favor,” Shanice replies, quickly recalling something from her Freshman year at college.

The girl asks in Spanish, gauging whether or not she speaks the same language and by her accent, the girl nods. With a quick, disapproving twitch of her eyebrows that only a teenager can manage, she says, “Right this way.”

“Are you waiting for Coco?” the girl asks, nonchalantly placing two menus on the table.

“I…I mean, I’m waiting for Johnny?”

She nods again then turns slightly in the direction of the service window that separates the kitchen from the dining. “Coco!”

A few of the guests jump at the girl’s voice. Johnny walks from the kitchen, chastising her with his eyes. She shrugs back with an impressive lack of enthusiasm. “My bad, alright?” she apologizes, returning to her hostess spot behind the counter.

It makes sense now why Johnny wants to meet here. Shanice had assumed he’d be a guest, not an employee. He sits at the table across from her with a shy smile. He’s wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt, so she can clearly see that his tattoos wrap the full lengths of his arms.

Unsure of how else to begin, Shanice opens with, “They call you Coco?”

“Only people that really call me Johnny is my mom when I piss her off,” he says, smiling slightly. “Thanks for meeting me, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Shanice mutters.

“You want something to eat?”

“Thanks, but I have to get back to work in a little bit.” She sighs then decides to do away with pointless small talk. “She’s four years old now. Where’ve you been?”

Straight to the point. The question visibly unsettles him, but she’s past caring.

Johnny–or Coco sits up a little straighter in the seat. “I’m gonna keep it real with you. I been in and outta prison most of my life–nothing violent, but I got locked up a couple months before she was born and was in for the first two years of her life.”

Shanice suspects as much, so she isn’t shocked when he admits this. She’s more concerned with what lands him there. “Define…‘nothing violent?’”

He clears nothing from his throat, “Possession.” The words roll out of his mouth like a secret, but it falls between them like an anchor at the bottom of a chasm.

She nods once. Coco’s anxious, almost like the kids she has to chastise for not doing their homework. The fact that he’s been to prison doesn’t exactly make her flinch. She has a few relatives that had been incarcerated at one point in time and others that are still in jail. Had it not been for pure luck, she could have ended up the same way at a young age. Especially during her college days with Mel.

Shanice can’t help but be hard. It must feel like an interrogation the way she fires questions and sits emotionless on the other side of the table. “That’s still two years unaccounted for.”

“Honestly,” he said with a wince, “I thought she’d be better off without me there. Being a good father isn’t something I know how to be.”

“What makes you so sure you can be a good father now?”

“Nothing,” he says plainly. “But I remember how I felt growing up without my dad. I didn’t feel wanted. I don’t want her to feel something like that. Especially not ‘cause of me.”

“There’s an audience,” she notes with her gaze set upon the service window.

He turns to the men. One is older with white hair and shadows of old acne scars on his somber face. One of the younger men sports an undercut while the other has his hair shortly cropped. By the downturned eyes the three share, it’s obvious that the three are father and sons.

The older man adjusts his glasses and disappears into the kitchen when he realizes he’s been caught leering. The other two put their heads down and start scrubbing away at the tiles in the window with small towels.

Shanice focuses again at her table mate and stares at him for just a moment much too long for it to be deemed comfortable. She notices his fingers are tapping against the table, and she suddenly recalls a moment from that morning when Olivia does the same.

It’s a different beat, but it has the same heart.

“Okay,” she tells him, looking up, and she watches Coco break out into a boyish smile. “Let me get something straight, though. There’s no ‘try’ in this. She’s had people in her life disappoint her, and at her age, she hasn’t really learned to stop being hopeful.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, revealing a familiar dimple.

“We’re going to the park downtown this Sunday. You can meet us there if you don’t have to work.”

“Yeah,” he said, still smiling. “Of course, I’ll be there.”

Shanice is driving back to school a few minutes later, chewing on the realization that it will most likely be another sleepless night.

_______

Next Chapter: Three

[jungshook69]

Comforting him

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy.

WORD COUNT: 2.3K

PAIRING/S: Taehyung X female reader

GENRE: Idol x Staff au ; Best friends au

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: Being an idol brings an overwhelming pressure on one’s shoulders. And that pressure is heightened when there’s an audience in front of you and you’re in a very vulnerable emotional state. Taehyung needs your help. He needs your comfort. And that’s exactly what you give him.

A/N: This is not necessarily my first fanfiction, but it is the first one I’m ever gonna post on Tumblr! Well hope you guys like it and it does well:) Also I’m sorry in advance if there’s any spelling errors:(

Hi, my name is Min Y/N. I’ve been working as an editorial assistant under Big Hit for a group known as BTS for the last 5 years, ever since BTS had their debut.

I was sitting in my hotel room on my desk eyes fixed on my laptop screen as I watched some of the boys on their own Vlives. Yes this became a part of my job for the last 2 years. I was responsible for watching their Vlives and making sure nothing went wrong. By wrong I meant there were incidents when fans asked questions that were too personal or idols lost their cool on Vlive but Bang PD-nim trusts the boys and I was just assigned to do this as a precaution.

Today only Taehyung, Yoongi oppa and Jin oppa were doing Vlives. Jin oppa wrapped up pretty quickly with his EatJin Vlive segment and signed off. Now the only ones left were Yoongi oppa and Taehyung. Yoongi was bopping along to his own lyrics while Taehyung was just sitting and staring at the camera.

Even though it was just me watching his Vlive, I could almost feel his eyes bore through the screen staring straight into my soul. I suddenly saw Yoongi oppa’s screen go black. I didn’t hear him say anything it just stopped. I texted him asking him if he wanted any help with setting it back up but he said that he didn’t have any problem he actually ended it by saying goodbye and everything. Maybe I didn’t hear him because I was busy staring at Taehyung.

And yes I texted him. I know they don’t really text too many people and very rarely females, but me and Jungkook’s makeup artist Park Min-Young, were the only females from the staff that the boys were closest to and most comfortable with. Personally I am the closest to the ’95 liners Jimin and Taehyung, not just because of the same age but we just get along the best.

Soon I shifted my gaze back onto the only Vlive left, Taehyung. He was leaning over and reading the comments. He remained still for a long time with a blank look on his face.

Soon curiosity got the best of me and I wondered what he was reading and began reading the comments too.

Comments:

@army1: Oh my god your guys 3rd muster performance was amazing!!! I was there Taehyung oppa!!

@army2: Aww I’m broke I couldn’t go T-T

@army3: Taehyung oppa are you okay?        

@army4: What happened?

@army5: Didn’t you hear Taehyung cried during the concert?

@army6: Oh my god I cried too T-T

@army7: wHaT?! send me a link aSaP!! T-T

@army8: The concert was just yesterday it’s not up yet!!

I was going through the comments when I heard Taehyung speak up. He looked up at the screen with a serious face. I knew exactly what was gonna happen. He was gonna tell everyone the same thing he told people on the day of the concert. About his grandma.

I was surprised at how calm he was because everyone knew how sensitive he was when it came to his grandmother. He kept a straight face and told everyone about his grandmother. I suddenly heard his breath hitch and looked at him concerned. I knew that face. He wanted to cry but he was holding himself back. I watched as he suddenly picked up his phone and began doing something on there. As soon as he kept his phone back down my phone lit up with a little ‘ding’. I opened it and saw what he had written.

I was surprised he texted me and not Jimin. Without overthinking it too much I quickly put on my hoodie and my white sneakers and put my phone in my pocket and stepped out of my hotel room.

I was on the 2nd floor and got into the elevator to ride to the 4th floor. I reached his door and stopped in front of it. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I heard a bit of shuffling on the inside and about 5 seconds later the door opened and my eyes met with his.

“Come in…” he said.

“Yeah…”

I said as I proceeded to take of my shoes.

*A/N: don’t come at me with the whole stinky feet thing y’all where I live its normal to be barefoot in the house*

“Soooo….” I started.

“Here take a seat”.

I sat down on his bed and he pulled up his chair in front of me.

“I want you to know that you can tell me anything okay. Whatever you feel whatever’s been on your mind just pour it out don’t hold anything back. I’m listening okay?” I said trying to comfort him.

With that he burst into tears in front of me.

“Heyy heyy its okay just let it all out its okay” I said softly.

“You must be thinking I’m such a baby right?” he said sniffling.

“No no no no who said showing emotions is being a baby?”

“T-t-thanks.”

I raised my hand to touch his arm to comfort him. As I touched his arm he looked up at me. I thought he felt uncomfortable so I quickly jerked my hand away from his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“No no no just—“

With that he engulfed me in a warm embrace. And its not like we haven’t hugged before. We have plenty of times. But this was different. He seemed more vulnerable now. He buried his face in my neck and sobbed onto my hoodie. I could feel his tears soak my hoodie but I didn’t mind it at all. My hand instinctively flew up to his back and started rubbing it.

After a while of enjoying each other’s comfortable silence and warm embrace I felt him stir under me. He pulled away desperately trying to wipe away his tears. I pulled my hoodie over my palm and grabbed his face with one hand. Using the other hand I wiped away his tears slowly. We looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds till I broke the eye contact.

Smiling I said to him, “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Ok good. Lemme get u a bottle of water.”

I stood up and walked over to his side table and picked up his water bottle. I walked over to the bed and sat back down. I handed him the water bottle and he took a sip as I waited for him to finish.

“Don’t look at me I’m a total mess right now.” He said.

“Personally I think you guys look better without makeup.”

He stared at me and the corner of his mouth lifted a tiny bit.

“Yaaahhh there’s that smile.” I said.        

“Thank you so much Y/N.”

“Anytime Tae Tae.”

I giggled. I checked my phone. It showed the time 11.00pm. I didn’t realize I had been here for an hour.

“Well are you sure your feeling okay?”

“Yeah much better” he said smiling.

“Ok cool. Its not like I wanna escape or anything but it’s 11 so maybe I should let you sleep and I should be heading back to my room.” I blurt out. Truth being I wanted to stay with him. But I didn’t want to seem too clingy.

“Oh yeah right.” He said with a disappointed look on his face.

I grabbed my phone from beside me and put it in my pocket.

“I’m sorry I soaked your hoodie.” He said.

“Heyy don’t worry about it.”

“Ummm Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind me asking how’s your life going? I mean I feel like all we’ve been talking about is me…”

“Yaahh I’m…” I sighed. “…fine.”

“What’s wrong? Is it about the guy your crushing on?” he asked his tone slightly off.

Yes I told Taehyung and Jimin that I’m crushing on a guy but I refused to reveal his name. Well if I would reveal his name to anyone all hell would break loose.

*A/N: I think you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

“N-no… I mean m-maybe” I said stuttering, scared to accidently reveal the truth.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” he pressed further.

“Don’t you have to sleep or something?”

“No talk to me.”

“Well I haven’t told him that I like him.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Because—because I just can’t. Let’s just say it’s forbidden or it’s against the rules or something.”

“You’re still not gonna tell me his name huh?”

How can I tell you that the man I’m in love with is you.

“You’re still not gonna tell me his name huh?” he pouted.

“Nope.” I said popping the ‘p’.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yeah, that he won’t like me back, cuz I’m me and he’s…” I sighed. “It won’t work out.”

“What do you mean you’re you? You’re literally one of the smartest and prettiest girls I know. Your kind, forgiving, humble and caring towards everyone around you.” He said practically ranting.

“Aaaaww thank you Tae but correction I’m not pretty… look at me c’mon?!”

“I am looking.” He says in a deep voice.

He stares into my eyes and his hands reached out to my face as he took of my glasses.

“I think you have beautiful eyes it’s a pity I can’t see them well because of your glasses”

“Yaahh that was Jimin’s line!!” I smile.

“But I meant it.”

He said putting on my glasses.

“Oh god it’s so blurry”

He said pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. His gaze didn’t falter once from my eyes. I looked down at my lap trying to avoid his gaze. I could feel my cheeks heating up. I froze when I felt a finger gently lifting my chin up.

And there he was the man that I couldn’t have, the man that I was too afraid to confess too, about to steal my first kiss. He stared at my lips while licking his own. He slowly leaned forward and I closed my eyes waiting for the impact. And then I felt it.

Soft plump warm lips gently brushing against mine. He pulled away to see my reaction and I sat right there with my eyes closed and lips still puckered waiting for his warmth to come back again. He clearly saw me wanting more and leaned in again. This time his hand went to the back of my neck as he pulled me closer to deepen the kiss. He got up from his chair and leaned over me. He began to push me back gently as I felt my back touch the bed and felt him hovering over me. We remained in that position for like barely 10 seconds until the loud doorbell rang.

Me being me, I panicked at the loud sound of the bell and and jerked my head up to sit up and accidently banged my head with Taehyung’s who was hovering over me. I immediately apologized and touched his forehead.

“I’m okay, are you?” he says brushing my forehead.

“I’m fine”

He begins chuckling as he made his way to the door.

“Wait! What if someone sees me here at this time?” I freak out.

“It’s probably just one of the guys relax.”

He opened the door to reveal Jimin look up from his phone.

“Taehyung-ah I saw your Vlive and I cam— oh hi Y/N what’re you doing here so late?

“Taehyung texted me to come over so I did.”

“Oh Taehyung-ah are you okay? Cuz I saw the Vlive…”

“Yeah I’m fine now thanks to Y/N.”

He said biting his lip and smirking at me.

I blushed looking away.

“Anyways it’s pretty late. I just came to check up on you and now that I know you’re okay I’m gonna have to get going. I have practice early tomorrow morning with hobi hyung. I’ll leave you two alone now! Byee!!” he spoke in a blur and left immediately.

As soon as Jimin left I got up from the bed and checked the time, it read 11.20pm.

“I should really get going Taehyung.” I said looking down at my feet unable to meet his gaze.

I started walking towards the door. Suddenly a hand flew from beside me and pushed the door close. I turned around to see Taehyung looking down at me, trapping me between the door and him.

“So your still not gonna tell me his name?” he said, his voice extremely gruff.

“W-who?”

“Aaaww look who’s all flustered.”

“I-I’m… n-not…”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Well whoever he is, I think you should tell him that you love him no matter what the rules are. He deserves to know. And if he says anything to hurt you I swear to god I’m going to break his spine in half!”

I think he was trying to be threatening but I found it rather cute. I giggled. Oh Taehyung-ah if only you knew…

“You really think I should tell him?’

“No, be mine…” He mumbled.

“What?” Did I hear him right?

“Y-yes.”

“Ok then I will.”

“Great.” He sighed.

He moved away from me and started walking away towards his bed.

“I love you Taehyung.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly his gaze fixed on me. I looked down at my feet feeling the heat crawl up to my cheeks. I jerked my head up in shock when I heard what he said next.

“I love you too Y/N.”

With that he walked towards me grabbing my face with his hands as he smashed his lips onto mine as we stood there against his door, not wanting to escape each other’s warm embrace. That’s when I knew that something called true love does exist.

*A/N: I hope you guys liked it:) Smile for me:)*

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69​ for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

[smellysluna]

The one where Luka is a clown | Fictober19 #1

Prompt number: 「 one 」“It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Luka Couffaine & [YOU]

Rating: T (Teens And Up)

Warnings/Tags: none

Summary: you’ve always had a crush on him bcs he simply was your type but nothing really happened unitl You & Luka get set up as project mates

Side note: I know that it’s the twelth of october but i just started it, i’ll write some more for fictober but i’ll use the prompts as i see fit bcs i’m just like that so yeah. anyways i hope this makes some kind of sense, its been a long time since i finished something i began writing. okay so i also wanted to write luka because there’s not many fics with him with an “x reader” tag. okay talk over, enjoy the story babes!!!!

"Hey."

I turned around in my seat and smiled. "Hi, Luka."

"So... how'd you wanna do this?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Do what?" Luka shared an amused smile. "Oh!" I face-palm. "The project! Right." I picked up the notebook with my notes from my desk and slammed it on his desk. Then I rotated it in his direction. "This is how we're going to do it."

"Wow, you've really thought this through already."

I rest my face on my hand and smirk. "It's no coincidence that I ace my presentations."

"I guess I'm lucky then."

"More than you think." I straighten my back. "Okay, no funny business tho. You fuck up and I'll make you suffer all the way to June. Take a picture of them notes so you have a copy and have a slight idea of what's going on."

He puts up a half-amused smile, "this ain't my first rodeo."

"But it's your first bullfight, so keep up." He laughed and I bit my lip. I might've gone overboard. 

"I'll do my best," he assured in a soft voice. Holy shit. He's so mellow. As soon as I was sure he had a picture of my notes, I took his phone. I entered into his contacts and added my number then dialed myself. 

I show him the screen of my phone. "Now we have each other's numbers." He smiled before I turned around just in time for the teacher to get in. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I was watching dessert recipes on YouTube when I received a message from Luka. The popup appeared from an Unknown number which reminded me that I forgot to add him to my contacts.

"hey"

     "hi"

    "what's up?"

"i went through ur notes"

    "yeah?"

    "they're amazing, aren't they"

"u made those in class"

"how???"

"they're too good"

You sent an image:

Unknown sent an image:

"anyhow"

"i wanted to know when you want to get the project finished"

"i thought that you'd want to finish it asap"

"u look like you have a busy schedule"

    "i'm free whenever, really"

    "but i don't want to finish it in one go"

    "so we'll spend a couple of days on it"

    "if u dont mind that is"

    "btw you give me too much credit"

"right"

"it's fine, yeah"

"more time to clown around"

Unknown sent an image:

    "> AUDIO (laughter)"

    "IM DYING"

    "WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY"

"i took clown courses in my childhood"

    "where's the diploma huh?"

"wait, lemme look"

"wait"

    "ur serious???"

"photo(clown certificate)"

    "I CAN'T BREATHE"

"clown code: never joke about being a clown"

    "AND HERE I WAS"

    "THINKING YOU WERE THE COOLEST GUY AT SCHOOL"

    "BUT ALL THIS TIME YOU WERE JUST A CLOWN"

    "I WAS SO FOOLISH"

    "ur now officially added to my contacts as clown boy 🤡"

"coolest guy huh? ;)"

    "don't let it get to your head, clown boy"

    "as much as i'd love to know about your clown career, i have to go make dinner"

    "we'll talk more about it at school"

    "don't vanish on me"

    "i'll snap my fingers into Thanos' ass if i have to"

"right 😂"

At dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about Luka. We might've never talked much to each other but I always had the hots for him. He was just my type: tall, supposedly long hair for a boy, dyed hair, punk-like feel and especially (these just get me going) those black gauges in his ears. Anyways, I'd lie if I said I never got distracted in class because of the smell of his cologne.

"Thank you for dinner, [Y/N]," said my mom after she cleaned the table.

"Don't forget to do the dishes, love."

"Yes, Dad," I chuckled.

"We're off to bed, then. Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, mum. Goodnight, dad."

That night, I fell asleep thinking about how nice that chat conversation with Luka was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I groaned loudly when I got into class. I ran because I was late for geography. When I got to class, the lack of a teacher at the desk made me want to kill myself. My classmates were scattered around the classroom in groups, as usual when a teacher was absent. Done with life, I walk to my desk, drop my backpack and accommodate my face on the desk. Suddenly, somebody is standing next to me. But I really just wanted some sleep so my first intention was to ignore whomever until well, it's self-explanatory.

"Looks like someone spent all night thinking about me."

"What!?" I see Luka. Now fully energized and heart pumping, I stutter: "No, no. What are you even saying?"

He laughs and takes a seat on the vacant spot in front of me. He rests his arms on my desk. "I'm just messing with you, wanted to see the reaction I'd get out of you. I wasn't expecting to fully wake you up." He smiles broadly and I stare into his eyes.

Have you ever met that person, no matter who they are, their eyes are so enthralling that you just can't help but keep staring at them? These kinds of eyes just have something... Something I'm unable to describe. And when I stare at them, they're so glossy and shiny.

"I think you'd look amazing if you wore eyeliner."

"Huh?" Half of his face moves upwards in sync. "That's very random."

"I mean, yeah." I look away, fidget with my bracelet and then look back. "I just thought it'd bring your eyes out even more."

"Ooh," he exhales knowingly. "Because they're blue, right?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "No," I say offended. Had this boy never realized how nice his eyes are?

"Why then?" He asks and nods his head onto his arms.

"Well," I lick my lips, "I don't know." I shrug "It's not because of the color, which is beautiful just so you know." I caress my arm and try very hard to maintain eye contact, occasionally looking away. "Your eyes, I don't know, they just have something."

He smiles at my words, "look who's talking."

"Not a clown, that's for sure." He groans in a boyish way and it melts my insides so warm I almost let it show.

"You won't let it go, won’t you?" He lays defeated on my desk, arms sprawled.

"You did that to yourself." He hummed in a way that seemed a mixture of displeasure and annoyance. His long hair was sprawled in every direction of my desk. I could tell that he washed his hair either last night or this morning —it smelled so nice. Luka smelled really nice and I couldn't help but bite my lip to restrain myself from sniffing him all over like I was some kind of dog-bred. I started playing with his hair and it was so much softer than I expected it to be, it was dyed after all. He let a pleasurable groan slip through.

"Does this bother you?"

Luka abruptly opened his eyes and forced my head to rest on the desk as well. With very soft caresses he ran his hand through my locks and I understood what it was that he intended.

"What about you?"

I stared into his eyes for a moment and closed them, then resumed playing with his hair as he did the same. We were so close, I could hear his silent breathes. I wondered if this could be considered as cuddling. Honestly? I didn't care because I was enjoying it.

"Hey, guys, look at [Y/N] and Luka."

"Woah, when did that happen."

"Never thought [Y/N] liked that type of guy."

"You're kidding, right? Luka's definitely her type."

We spent the rest of the hour like that. Somewhere in between, the rest of the class noticed us but, frankly, we paid them no mind. But it made me anxious. Not because of what they said but about what Luka might've thought about it.

"I kind of like this," he whimpers softly as if scared he'd break whatever we had going on.

I agree with him softly, just as scared to ruin the mood.

When the bell rang, we hesitantly broke apart. Luka returned to his assigned seat behind me and then class started. The moments the teacher repeated subjects the class already went through, Luka played with the ends of my hair.

After the school bell rang for the last time that day, Luka approached me. He asked if I wanted to start on the project today. Luka was so cute while he asked. He didn't do anything particularly cute but the way he looked when he leaned on the wall had sent me flying. Obviously, I said that it was a good idea. Not desperately, of course, even though I wanted to grab him and steal him away. I kept my cool.

"What time?"

He grimaced to hide a grin. "I was hoping, like, right now?"

"Uh, well... On any other particular month, I'd agree and take you to my house. But we're getting reformations done so it's a very big mess."

"We can go to my place." He states like it's a universal fact.

"But all my shit's at home, and I'd want to empty my backpack, grab some money, etcetera."

"Okay, I get it. I can take you home and we'll head right over to mine?"

Even though I might pass out any moment out of pure embarrassment, I cross my arms in an 'X' in front of his face.

"No way that's happening, clown boy."

"What? Why?" He frowns.

"No way in hell I'm letting you drive me on your motorbike."

A small laugh escapes his lips. "You've never been on a motorcycle?"

I act displeased.

Luka laughs with a hand on his stomach. "You haven't!" I scowl and his laughter subdues. He waves his hands in front of him and apologizes for laughing. "I'll be careful, just for you." He assures.

"Even if I agreed... I doubt you'd have a second helmet. And we all know that police officer which has an obsession for the law."

"I got us covered on that one, I have two."

I stare at him. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"No," he grins, "it just happens to be that I usually pick my sister up from her school."

"Oh, so she's gonna have to walk all the way back to your house. We can't let her do that, can we?" No matter how much I crush on Luka, anything that can get me out of sitting on that devil's contraption, I'd go with.

"I said 'usually', didn't I?" I can feel his smirk soaking right through me but in a much more softer tone he said "it'll be fun," and smiles "trust me."

It was his goddamn smile that convinced me to agree.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"I never knew you could live in a boat."

I looked around the main deck and, for some reason, I felt very lightweight and free.

"You don't like it?"

"The contrary, I love it!" I smile at him, "it adds to your charm."

Luka smiles back, "thanks."

Both of us walked inside the boat. I took everything all at once. You rarely get the chance to be inside a boat-home. But the most surprising thing was that it was stable —at least more than I thought.

"My room's the one at the end. Get yourself comfy —I'll be right there."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Okay."

Once I get into his room, I relax and take a look around. I leave my backpack by the door and head straight for the most valuable thing to me in his room. Luka had one of the nicest guitar stands available on which laid the most basic electric guitar ever... but since looks can deceive, I pick it up.

I make myself comfortable on his bed along with Luka's guitar and a guitar pick I snatched from the wall. Without thinking twice, I started to play. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't plugged the guitar into an amplifier, this particular tab didn't need the magic of electricity. I suppose I should have asked first if I could play but it's too late now-

"That's 'Lonely Day', right?"

"Ah! Shit! Sorry!" I stood up hastily, the guitar pick went flying to the floor and I placed the guitar back where it was supposed to be. I turn to him to apologize, "I should've asked-."

Luka walks past me, grabs the guitar by its fretboard and puts the strap around himself. He shuffles around me and I was too confused to realize what he was doing. Then he hands me the guitar fully-tuned-connected-to-an-amplifier guitar. He lifts it by the fretboard again and hands it over to me as if telling me to take it. I stare into his eyes and do exactly that.

At that moment, we didn't need any words as I accepted his silent offer. I strum dumbly and then start fidgeting with the knobs on his amplifier. I bite my lip, it doesn't have as many options as mine and it's smaller than the one I have at home but I managed to get the right sound.

I started playing a song that I had played countless times and felt very confident. This moment was about impressing Luka and I was determined to blow him away. But the moment I started playing, I couldn't keep up the cool-girl act and grinned as I played around the room.

"Wow," he said amazed after I finished. "I never knew you played guitar, let alone that well."

"I'm amazing, I know," I wink.

"What did you play?"

"You don't recognize it!?" I gasp loudly. I put my hands over my heart. "Oh, my heart! It hurts! I have never been so hurt before!"

He holds back an embarrassed smile. "Guilty as charged."

"It's Crowd Chant, by Satriani," an exaggerated sad smile adorns my lips.

"Oh, right! The guy from 'Surfing with the Alien'!"

"Yes, that one! I love him, he's my idol!"

"He's good."

"Good? He's a GOD." I pout at him. "Your idol is Jagged Stone, that's why you have so little appreciation for him."

"Right."

I playfully punch him. "Just kidding."

"I thought I was supposed to be the clown around here."

I laugh very loud at that. "Yes! I will - haha - leave - ha - the rest to you."

During the week we were making the project we had gotten really close and we kept hanging out at each other's houses even when the project was long ago finished. I met his very cool mum, and his sister, who is physically exactly like him but both of them don't seem to admit it. And he met my small family too.

"I keep telling you! You do look alike! Genetics is no joke."

"I agree with [Y/N]!" Juleka's friend said one day over dinner. I can't remember what her name was but I always thought there was more than 'friends' between her and Juleka.

"We do not look alike; you both must be very blind," Luka jokes and I pinch him very hard. "Ow! Stop!" He pinches back.

"No! Luka! That was payback for yesterday!" He stuck his tongue out at me and I growl. "You're very mean."

He shrugs, "whatever you say, [Y/N]."

"Oh, 'whatever I say' it is, is it?" I crossed my arms and pondered without breaking my staring contest with Luka. "So if I said you're ugly, you'd agree?"

He smirked, "sure." I felt how triumph tasted and literally a second later I tasted defeat. "But it won't affect the fact that my eyes have 'something'."

I became a blushing mess and everyone at the table stared at us.

"So..." Juleka started, unsure. "Does that mean that [Y/N] confessed first?"

Juleka's blonde friend nodded, "I knew it!"

"I'm happy for the both of you," Mrs. Couffaine cheered with a very sweet smile.

There was a problem with their cheers which made Luka and me quite uncomfortable. It was wrong. Nothing had happened between us.

"It's...! It's not like that!" I attempt to defend ourselves and turn to Luka. "That's not what that was, right, Luka?"

He was looking in the opposite direction, scratching his crimson red neck. "I mean..."

I hide my face in my hands. "Oh my God, I want to kill myself."

"You know what? We will leave you both to work out whatever misunderstanding there might be, okay?" And with no answer, all three of them left.

"Let's go outside." With no warning, Luka took me by the hand and guided me to the main deck. It was chilly outside and I shivered but kept it to myself. "Here." Luka handed me his jacket.

"Thanks," I smile and put it on. It still smells like his cologne.

"About what Juleka said..." He avoided my gaze by looking into the river. "I might've told her that I like you," he turns to me and takes my hands, "a lot." Luka squeezes my hands out of nervousness. "The way you and I understand each other, without any words, just the music is enough. I feel like we're connected through it like we are the power-chords to any rock song."

My heart was melting, I always knew deep down that Luka's a very sweet romantic and he was killing me with his cuteness. I never knew you could look cute and hot during a confession. "Luka, I-"

"Remember when we sang 'Anything better than you'?"

"Yeah."

I recalled the memory. At the end of the song, when the part that goes "I can sing anything sweeter than you" our lips were so close... I couldn't stop thinking about it before I fell asleep every night.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I just couldn't do it." Luka pulled me in and we were as close as that other time, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. "Until now."

Luka kissed me and I kissed back. We kissed each other so desperately and I ran my hand through his hair. Fuck, how I loved the softness of his hair. We break apart for a kiss and stare at each other's eyes, dumbfounded. We kiss again except this time it wasn't as desperate. It was softer, a kiss only Luka could make amazing. Luka had thin lips but made up for it with the way he kissed. I wanted to kiss him more, I wanted more from Luka so I kissed him harsher. Then he broke apart the kiss, clearly taken aback from it.

My heart stopped, "I... I'm sorry-!" He cut me off by kissing me harsher than I did and I loved every second of his harshness. I began feeling his neck, his back, his chest and pushed myself closer to him as every second that passed it became hotter.

We broke the make-out apart. Our flushed faces appreciated the cool night breeze. We keep wrapped around each other. "I think we should get back inside."

I listened to his pounding heart through his chest. "Not yet, clown boy."

"Whatever you say, love."

[peetababy]

OK i finally finished the ballad of songbirds and snakes (don’t @ me, i’ve been busy) and I liked it a lot but really I’m just excited for the movie. So many parts of this book are maaaade to be adapted into a film. 

This is a list of parts I cannot wait to see adapted (SPOILER ALERT OBVI) 

Send me messages of parts you are also excited about being adapted :) i’ll tag any spoilers

Snow’s stupid face when he realizes that he was assigned District 12 girl and is sooooo offended and embarrassed 

Lucy Gray’s reaping. omfg. the snake. 

ALL OF THE ZOO SCENES 

Especially the part where one of the mentors, Archane, gets killed. I’m sorry I don’t mean to glorify violence but u know that scene is going to be so intense. 

Also when Snow falls in there and feels stupid and out of place. I just want him to be humiliated 

The interview scenes will be interesting bc Lucky Flickerman I’m sure will be so similar to Caesar, I mean it is his father (presumably) after all 

I want to see Lucy Gray sing alllll the songs. I’m not musically talented so I couldn’t even imagine any of the tunes to the songs (except for Hanging Tree and Deep in the Meadow) but I’m sure they will be beautiful and/or bops

The scene where bombs go off in the stadium will be intense AF 

Marcus escaping and being strung up in the stadium :/ so fucking sad 

THE ARENA?!?!?! IS AN OLD STADIUM????? THE FUCK I can’t wait to see it 

OUR SWEET ANGEL SEJANUS ... He deserved so much better. I can’t wait to see him be the single voice of reason and the only one who is brave enough to speak out 

Sejanus and Snow in the arena will be an intenseeee set of scenes.

Snow killing that tribute !!!????!!! Just imagine the slow mo zoom in on his face as he’s swinging again and again with a crazed look on his face

Snow dropping the handkerchief into the snake cage will be a good one 

Shit also all the scenes with Clemensia and how the mutt snake venom affects her body 

DO YOU THINK THERE WILL BE FLASHBACKS THAT SHOW THE CAPITOL POST-WAR? WITH THE CANNIBAL SCENE? OMMGGGG that’s a part of the book that has stuck with me 

Peacekeeper Snow in District 12 

The mockingjay/jabberjay scenes. I want to be able to feel the level of disgust Snow has for the mockingjays RADIATING from the screen or I’m leaving the theatre 

The whole scene where Snow shoots the mayor’s daughter without a second thought and without remorse. oh my god.

I don’t want to see Sejanus die dude that’s going to be the hardest scene to watch 

BUT WHAT I’M MOST

MOST

MOST

EXCITED FOR

IS THE END 

When Snow finds the guns and realizes he doesn’t have to run away with Lucy Gray.

The moment he completely shifts into a new reality, where Lucy Gray is evil (”not a little lamb”) and has to die because she’s suddenly the only threat to his future

and Lucy Gray is so FCKING SMART she senses immediately that she has to get away from him 

I can’t wait to watch the realizations dawn on both of their faces

AND THEN 

SNOW POISONS THE DEAN SO THAT HE CAN TAKE HIS PLACE 

THE FIRST OF MANY VICTIMS TO FALL AT THE HANDS OF SNOWS POISON 

can’t you just see the end, Snow walking out of the Dean’s building with a small smirk on his face as the Dean injects/takes the poison and dies on his desk. Scene cuts back to Snow staring at the camera with an even scarier smirk AND FADE TO BLACK

DIRECTED BY FRANCIS LAWRENCE 

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

1. my usual due diligence b/c some deeply programmed part of my brain can't not cite my sources::

are you interested in reading some secondary source material about the civic government of a medieval city?* or a primary source document listing the personal expenses of Henry VIII between 1529-1532, a line item of which i copied and modified for this chapter? well now u can i guess, go for it.

 *(there's like no easily accessible canon info about what Rivia (the city, not the kingdom or the castle) is like, but after some side reading about other medieval cities it seemed like it should be roughly the size of York vs the size of London or Paris, which were the capitols of much more important kingdoms to irl western Europe than Lyria and Rivia seem to have been to northern Fake Europe. i mean, before Meve more or less single handedly fucked up an entire invasion force and yeeted herself into international fame obviously.)

2. i posted a short scene i cut from this chapter here. 

 ---- 

  7.

    In the days leading up to the fair, a veritable army of men in armor descended on the castle and town surrounding it, spending a mint of money and tearing up the grass of the green outside the wall with ceaseless practices and a few very real fights. The Baroness, who had graciously accepted the Queen’s invitation, became a semi-permanent fixture beside the hastily erected fence surrounding the field. Despite the cold, she spent the short daylight hours observing and offering opinions and guidance. Gascon arrived with a retinue of familiar-looking rogues that drew a dark frown from Reynard and threw himself happily into the endless clashes. The Baroness watched him for most of an afternoon, then in the evening delivered a detailed lecture indicating how and where his technique could be improved, which he cheerily took to heart. The result, according to his tutor, was that he progressed, somewhat, from a reasonable amateur to something like a professional.

     Meve managed to keep her company often enough to hear many of her opinions. She noted bad habits and technical errors in almost all of Meve’s serving knights, with few exceptions; of Sir Odo, she only remarked casually that he yet showed no sign of losing a step, age or prior injuries be damned. She made the unusually enthusiastic comment within earshot of its subject as he offered advice to a young knight he’d unseated; he appeared slightly surprised and rode over, eyebrows raised.

    “Was that a compliment, my lady?” he asked, looming over the two women where they stood by the fence.

    “Would you like it to be?” the Baroness replied, giving no sign either way.

    “Why not?” he said, matching her tone, bowed courteously in his saddle, slammed his visor down, and rode away. Meve stared distractedly after him.

    “He’ll be an early contender for the prize, I believe,” the Baroness remarked.

    “Well, he’s certainly my favorite,” she replied, airily.

    “And doesn’t he know it,” the older woman muttered, then added, “That man has a target on his back.”

    Meve returned to earth and turned an inquiring frown on her.

    “Look,” the older woman explained, waving a hand to indicate the field at large. “There’s not less than two dozen knights here, and squires besides, as well as more than a few fighters who are neither. Some are no doubt here for the prizes, and some for th’ entertainment value, and others to catch a woman’s eye, but, no matter what their reasons, every man among them would very much like to defeat the Queen’s champion, make no mistake.”      

    The Baroness paused significantly, clearly waiting for her to see a point. Meve, aware that even Reynard lost a match, on occasion, failed to arrive at whatever it was; she shrugged dismissively and said, “Yes, and?”

    “And, therefore, don’t leave his equipment unguarded overnight, or his horse,” she explained impatiently, with a slight eye roll; she added, as an afterthought, “Your Grace.”

    “Oh.”

      After dinner she stared contemplatively into the fire, paying no attention to Reynard and Gascon’s idle chatter nearby. The Baroness’s suggestion - or was it a warning? - weighed on her thoughts. So did the fact that she had yet to find a third judge; a difficult prospect, as whoever she picked might not suit, or, worse, might be inclined to see political significance where there was none. Further, she hadn’t seen the black knight, or even heard anything of him, in well over a week; it was arguably the least of her problems, but bothered her nevertheless. She was jolted out of her reverie only when Reynard shook her suddenly by the shoulder; she frowned distractedly at him, realized he had asked her something, and said, “What?”

    “What are you thinking about?” he repeated, patiently. Gascon stared glassily at her, an expectant smile on his face. She explained about the judge, in brief, expecting their conversation to then go on without concerning itself with the matter.

    “But why d’ you need three judges?” Gascon wondered, instead, slurring his words somewhat.

    “Because there are always three judges,” Reynard replied stiffly, evidently less than perfectly sober himself.

    “The third judge is necessary, I’m afraid,” Meve explained. “A tiebreaker.”

    “Oh,” said Gascon, “I see. Well, what I would do is just get Gaspar or someone t’ do it, and say good enough; I suppose it doesn’t truly matter who does the job, in th’ end.”

    “The joust is serious business,” Reynard said, growing somewhat haughty, “You can’t just appoint some ruffian who can’t talk as an official.”

    “No,” Meve said, soothingly, before Gascon could react, “I don’t think he would do, at all, not to worry. However, Gascon’s drunken rambling has given me a thought - I don’t really have to choose the third judge myself.”

    “What do you mean by that?” Reynard asked, suspiciously.

    “Never you mind,” she said, casually, “You’ll find out soon enough. Anyway - I meant to ask you, Gascon, for a favor.”

    “By all means,” he replied, cheerily.

     “I need you to assign some of your more reliable and sober men to keep an eye on Reynard’s harness, weapons, and above all his horse, until the fair.”

    “Why?” Reynard asked; Meve ignored him, temporarily. Gascon, on the other hand, seemed to immediately understand, and nodded his agreement.

    “Oh, yes, naturally, you do,” he said. “I’ll put my best people on it, not t’ worry.”

    “Thank you,” she said, and then explained herself to Reynard after Gascon departed to see to the matter. He frowned doubtfully and began, “I really don’t think it’s necessary to -”

    “I know you don’t,” she interrupted, a little curtly, “It’s why I didn’t ask you.”

    He fell into a slightly disgruntled silence, obviously offended; she immediately regretted her tone, blamed it on the late hour, and delivered a genuine apology, which he graciously accepted, as he always did.

      At ten the next morning, she attended a meeting with the bailiff, aldermen, and Mayor of the city outside her castle walls. The Mayor was an ancient man who’d been installed in his position some years before she was born, and would not be hurried as he explained, at length, the procedures and trials of the next few days. She half-listened to his speech, delivered in the same didactic voice as always, and to the discourse that followed, well aware of the various topics that would be covered, as they were exactly the same each year for each fair - roadblocks, fire brigades, the necessity to have extra guards at night, the necessity to have yet further guards to keep the visitors out of the stockyard and away from the docks, the vanishingly small probability of snow. The Queen sat, patiently chiming in on the usual occasions to promise a detachment of soldiers from the castle and to offer the use of the stables in the courtyard, if needed, but otherwise waiting in silence for the meeting to wind to a close. There was, she knew from experience, no speeding up the unvarying process, and it was easiest to try; at the end, however, when the Mayor, as always, asked for any final remarks, she said, “I’ve one, gentlemen.”

    The room turned as one to stare at her in collective astonishment; she had never shown the slightest desire to lengthen any meeting in the past, and the atmosphere grew wary and uncertain at the irregularity. She smiled at them, professionally, and continued, “I have a small request only: the jousting event that’s bringing you so much custom this year requires three judges, but I find myself with only two; I thought perhaps you could select the last yourselves and then send ‘em along to the castle this afternoon.”

    She was assured that the thing was in their power to grant and departed in secret amusement, leaving the disturbed city government in full knowledge that, so long as she ruled in Lyria and Rivia, the troubling moment would never be forgotten.

      The city council sent along their choice - a round, dark-haired young woman - some hours later. She received a very dubious look from Reynard when Ethan brought her into his little office, where he sat in consultation with the Queen. Her name was Giselle, she said, and she knew nothing whatsoever about jousting - although, of course, she’d seen many a brawl, because she was a barmaid at the largest public house in the town square; she was just lately seventeen, but had been employed there since she was ten, and fights were expected and even wagered on should the combatants be interesting enough. Meve was, for once, grateful for Reynard’s unyielding sense of propriety; he grew steadily more unapproachable, but said absolutely nothing as the girl finished her introduction and subsided into silence, casting an uneasy glance at his remote frown.

    “Well,” Meve said, pleasantly, “It’s no matter; the finer details of the sport are easy enough to learn. I’m not going to force you, if you’d rather not, but should you like to be a judge tomorrow along with myself and the Baroness, you’re quite welcome.”

    Giselle’s face lit up; she replied quickly, “Oh, yes, I’d love to, my lady.” Meve nodded, satisfied.

    “Well, then, Ethan there will explain the rules and answer any questions you have; you may go along with him,” she said. Ethan promptly turned a brilliant shade of red as Giselle turned a broad smile on him. Meve drew on decades of diplomatic experience and managed to maintain a straight face as the pair attempted to make their escape from the overcrowded office, briefly became jammed together in the doorway, and awkwardly negotiated their way out, one after the other.

    “Gods preserve us,” Reynard muttered, rubbing his forehead painfully, the moment the door finally shut behind them. Meve snorted a laugh at last, perched on the edge of his desk, and said, “She’ll do nicely, I think; seems game enough, given the circumstances.”

    He shook his head at her and asked, wearily, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

    “It is a holiday. However, those guard patrols for the town must be arranged, and I still have to review my steward’s reports -”

    “I’ll bring the reports as well as a bottle, then,” Reynard decided, making for the door; she caught his arm as he passed, kissed him, and pulled away a long moment later to stare into his eyes. He blinked down at her, apparently struck as speechless as his squire, until she released him and said, “Go on, then; I’ll be here.”

    “Actually, I’m not thirsty after all,” he said, not moving away. She flashed a smile, slid her arms around his neck, and didn’t argue.

      Reynard did arrange the patrols, eventually, but Meve was forced to put the paperwork off; there was a feast to attend, and she had no time to read accounts before it began. It had to be held in the courtyard under the moonlight, because the entire city was invited and most of it’s more upstanding citizens had actually turned up, and, on top of them, all the knights and their horde of attendants; the resulting crowd would never fit inside the great hall. Even her usual courtiers had trouble maintaining stiff decorum in the open air, by blazing fires and with an astonishing amount of food and drink in them. The Queen herself sat at a table with the Baroness and Count Odo; the Count was companionably silent as usual, and so Meve passed the time chatting mainly with the Baroness. The women waved off occasional requests to dance in favor of a detailed discussion of feats of arms they’d witnessed during tournaments and battles, until, unexpectedly, Sir Holt advanced on them out of the crowd. The Baroness immediately paused, mid-sentence, and stared him down; he did not appear to notice her pointed, but wordless, dismissal. Reynard stiffened slightly in his seat, eyes narrowing. Meve sighed quietly; she of course knew the red knight was in attendance, because she’d spotted Gaheris out in the lists the previous afternoon, but had thought he’d have had the sense to avoid her.

    However, all the red knight said to her was a polite greeting and a remark on the success of the evening, so far. She nodded at him in acknowledgment; he then turned to Reynard and said, “Count Odo - I look forward to our rematch, tomorrow.”

    “Do you, now?” the Count replied, coldly; then, his conscience apparently made uneasy by his own rudeness, added, “As do I, Sir Holt; best of luck to you, when the time comes.”

    “And to you, my lord,” the red knight said, glanced uncertainly at the condescending Baroness, and retreated without further comment. Meve glanced sideways at the Count’s distant frown and nodded to him resignedly. He needed no further invitation to quit the field, and, for some reason, the remainder of the event seemed to go on with a shade of awkwardness in his absence; her renewed conversation with the Baroness felt somewhat stilted, and the din of the crowd around them oppressive. The feast eventually ended with an inevitable speech by the Mayor, which not a soul attended to; the locals had heard it before and the visitors seemed to be unsure who it was that was lecturing them. The Queen then delivered some much briefer remarks, as expected, which received the crowd’s full concentration, dismissed them to their own devices, and departed.

      An hour later, she was safely in her own private office, puzzling over a line item in her steward’s report: paied to Sir Roger Eres knight upon a bille of Sir John Kimborne knight 153 g., when someone came thundering up the stairs and burst suddenly through the door. Reynard jerked awake in his chair by the fire, alarmed at the noise, saw what had made it, and settled again with a quiet, relieved, sigh. She herself had turned a savage glare on the intruder, but subsided when it only proved to be Gascon, reeking of liquor and panting slightly.

    “It’s late, Brossard. What do you want?” Meve asked, looking back down at her papers. She sat back with a quick, irritated, frown as the Duke strode over, slapped a wide leather strap down on top of them, and demanded, “Look at this.”

    “It’s a girth, from a saddle,” she said, glancing from it to him with a raised eyebrow.

    “Yes,” Gascon agreed, despite her warning expression. Reynard stood with a faint groan, walked over, glanced at it, and said, “Isn’t that one of mine? What’s this about?”

    “Look there, by the buckle,” Gascon said, impatiently, pointing. Meve eyed the area and spotted what appeared to be a wrinkle or crack in the leather; she picked it up to study it more closely, and finally looked back up at the Duke, scowling.

    “It looks as if someone cut it most of the way through,” she said. “And then, what? Glued it back together? A damn good job, too; would never have noticed it, myself, if you didn’t point it out.”

    “It would likely snap th’ instant it took a hard shock,” Reynard added, taking the girth and turning it over thoughtfully. “But when someone might’ve done it, I don’t know. I used this just yesterday, practicing against Roland Orlac; you were there, Meve.”

    “Perhaps they did it days ago, and it was just luck that kept it from breaking, then,” Gascon suggested, shrugging. “Or it could have been yesterday afternoon, before Pug and Gaspar started looking after your things.”  

    Meve swore angrily, already forming a long list of suspects: disgruntled barons, unscrupulous competitors, foreign saboteurs, domestic anarchists. Reynard sighed in weary agreement with her.

    “Well, annoying as this is, it’s not my first overly bitter rival, I suppose. I’ve survived th’ others; this will be no different,” he said, pragmatically.

    “Yes, well, regardless, it’ll be your last. Find out who did this, Gascon,” the Queen said. “I take attempts to sabotage my General’s equipment very personally.”

    “I’ll do what I can,” he assured, grimly.

[im-a-star-boy]

Uno Reverse Card

So I finished this last decade but I forgot to upload it so like- here. Worked on it with @fandomsumthing as usual!

.oOo.oOo.oOo.

Summary: Peter always has witty comebacks but sometimes they come back and bite him in the ass. That’s okay, if you don’t have an overprotective boyfriend who will fight anyone who looks at you the wrong way.

Word Count: 6,703

Date Of Completion: Monday, December 30th, 2019 (LAST FIC OF THE 2010′S!!!)

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Prepared. A word that people say perfectly describes Peter. For the most part, they’re right. He always had copies of his homework and bandaids with disinfectant on hand. Another word that people use to describe is quick-witted. Always ready to snap back with a better joke or insult. Now combined those and what comes out is a power that is seen as inhuman.

“Fucking fag.” One of the boys, Carlton, who’d been bullying him growled.

He and two other boys had Peter cornered to a locker, and a good number of students were standing by, watching uncomfortably. Peter simply grinned and shuffled around in his back pocket for a moment, before pulling out a self-painted rainbow reverse card. “No u,” Peter replied simply, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Carlton, along with his goons, turned a light red as the crowd around them let out snickers or full-on laughs. This was obviously not their plan at all. Carlton shot an angry look at Peter, who smiled in return. They both knew that physically fighting during school was prohibited, so Carlton backed off with his friends following.

Peter didn’t think that he had done anything too noteworthy, but that was because he’s never heard anything Carlton had done to people who stood up to him. That’s because no one spoke about what he had done to them out of fear. Carlton had little morals, so he wouldn’t steal anything from them, but he would make them feel as embarrassed as him or as hurt as him.

As Peter stepped out of his last class, an extra bounce to his step from passing a test, he happily strutted down the hallway, prepared to drop off his things then do a patrol. He stopped at his locker and shoved his schoolbag into his locker. He had lost so many backpacks that he just set aside one for school and left everything in there. He grabbed his backpack that held his suit, extra clothes, and snacks, and happily began walking to the exit.

He said his goodbyes to Gwen and Anya who both had extra work that they were doing in their labs. Not that they were failing or anything, they just had a personal project together. Miles wasn’t there because he was meeting him on patrol.

“Someone’s really chipper,” Anya commented as she noticed Peter’s slight bounce.

Peter smiled. “I passed that surprise English test.”

“The one about the book no one read?” Gwen asked. It was true, no one read the book because it didn’t have substance. Usually, the books assigned were really great, but this one just was all over the place.

“Yup! Hey, I gotta go meet up with Harry so can we talk about this later?” Peter asked. The two girls shared a smile at each other then looked back at Peter.

“You two going to hold hands?” Gwen asked, her voice mocking a small child. Peter and Anya laughed.

“I’m going to be late if I don’t go now,” Peter said smiling.

“Alright, see ya around!” Gwen called as he walked away.

Peter laughed to himself and walked towards the exit. He checked his phone, seeing that Harry had texted him. As he exited the building, he felt his spidey sense suddenly scream. He looked up, seeing no immediate danger when he felt someone grab his collar and drag him to the side before being thrown down onto the pavement with a surprising amount of force. He looked up in alarm, to see Carlton standing over him with a malicious look in his eye. “Hey Parker, wanna chat?”

“By the looks of it, you don’t want to do much chatting.” Peter got to his feet to run. He could easily take Carlton, but that would most definitely reveal his identity as Spider-Man or at the very least raise suspicions.

Before Peter could get away, Carlton grabbed a fist full of Peter’s hair and pulled. It felt like he was trying to scalp him. “Leaving so soon? Come on, my friends would like to chat with you too, fag.” Carlton growled.

Peter followed him, assuming that if he didn’t then he’d be dragged by the hair and it was already painful enough. “You know this counts as a hate crime,” Peter muttered.

Carlton simply scowled before throwing him onto the ground and kicking him in the stomach. “Shut the fuck up.” He snarled, as his friends approached.

Before Peter could stand up to defend himself, he felt someone kick him in the back. As more people began to kick him, he curled into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment, he felt someone grab a fistful of his hair again and practically drag him to his feet. He let out a cry of pain before someone grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back. Carlton was glaring daggers at him. He rolled up his sleeves before punching him hard in the face. Peter felt blood wash down his face from his nose as he staggered backward. He was pushed forward by the boy who had grabbed his arms. He clenched his fist as his face was met with concrete. He coughed and was pulled to his feet once more. Peter growled as he was thrown against the wall, and one of Carlton’s friends punched him in the gut. Peter coughed as he slumped backward.

Peter’s phone had fallen out and Carlton had picked it up, seeing all the messages from Harry. The heart right next to his name didn’t go unnoticed. “Hold him against the wall,” Carlton ordered and his friends did so. Peter was still slumped over and catching his breath when they did so.

“So you are someone’s fuck toy Parker?” Carlton smirked, holding the phone up to Peter’s face. Peter looked up barely. He saw Harry’s name and swore to himself.

“That’s my best friend.” Peter partially lied.

Carlton laughed. “Best friend.” He mocked. “That’s bullshit.”

Peter held his tongue, despite wanting to launch at Carlton, who was laughing. “Makes sense, someone like you being a goddamn cockwarmer.” He sneered.

Peter felt his face flush with embarrassment. “It’s not like that!” He snapped, struggling lightly to push one of the other boys off.

Carlton laughed once again, before throwing Peter’s phone on the ground, shattering it. The battery fell out, shutting his phone off. Peter flinched as Carlton stomped on it, an amused look on his face. He punched him one more time before spitting on his face. “Come on guys, let’s take out the trash.” He sneered.

Peter let out a cry of alarm as the other two boys picked him up. “God he’s so light!” One of them shouted, seeming alarmed.

Peter kicked frantically as Carlton opened the dumpster. He felt himself fall for a second, then he landed on a trash bag. He yelped in pain as scrap metal dug into his back. What was he expecting, it was a school that centers on building robots for god’s sake!

“How’s it feel to be home?” One of them laughed.

“This might seem surprising, but this isn’t my first time in a dumpster.” Peter groaned. He didn’t sit up or adjust himself. Passed off what he’s experienced with Carlton, if he did, he’d get knocked out or worse. How did he even get into Horizon?

“Well, this will the longest time.” Carlton was about to close the lid but one of his friends grabbed his wrist. “What? Are you pussying out?”

“No, just wait a sec.” He said and then there were footsteps and some rustling. He came back and handed Carlton something. From where Peter was lying he could see a smirk on his face.

“This is why you’re my friend, Jim. You always think of something to make these things better.” A trash bag landed on Peter’s gut, knocking the wind out of him.

“Come on guys, I think we’re finished here,” Carlton called. He looked down at Peter one last time with a smile and then slammed the lid shut. He could hear his friends laughing as they walked off. Peter waited a few more minutes before trying to open the lid.

“Shit,” Peter mumbled to himself, realizing as the lid only jiggled that Carlton must have locked the lid before leaving. His anxiety began to rise as he realized how stuck he actually was. Breaking through the dumpster itself was a no go, he’d get more injured and is someone was walking by then he could be discovered as Spider-Man. If someone was walking by… Peter began banging on the side of the dumpster and calling for help.

After a few minutes, he had begun to run out of breath. He gave up for a while but never stopped tapping the side with his knuckles. After what must’ve been an hour or two, he heard a clicking. He looked up and was startled as streams of light poured into the dumpster. He covered his eyes with his hands, before grinning. “Nice weather we’re having, am I right?”

The lid dropped and he heard a shriek. After a second, the lid opened again. “Holy fuck- are you okay?”

Peter realized he must look like shit. Black eyes, bloody nose, cuts, and scrapes. He shrugged. “Eh, could be worse.”

The man reached in and helped Peter out of the dumpster. “God kid, go tell Modell what happened to you. That’s a nasty prank to pull.”

“Yeah. Um, could you help me to the schoolyard?” Peter asked. He knew he heard Carlton and his friends walk down the opposite direction of the school, but he also wasn’t sure if they decided to circle around in that time.

“I’ll walk you right to the door. You look like you’re about to pass out.” The man offered. Peter nodded, he often looked worse than he actually was.

Peter stopped. “W-wait.” He stumbled to the scraps of his phone. It was definitely beyond repair.

He searched through the busted metal before letting out a relieved sigh. The SD card remained undamaged. He carefully put the card in his pocket and returned to the mans’ side.

The walk there was fast, the trash guy really worried about Peter. He got to the doors and hesitated. “Do you have a card or something?” He asked Peter.

“Yeah, in my bag- shit.” Peter didn’t have his bag on him. Which held his Spider-Man suit. Did Carlton take it? Did he already know? What if he-

“I have it right here. I saw it next to the dumpster and grabbed it when we started walking.” He handed over the bag. “I thought you might have some important things in there. I gotta go, my job can’t be put on hold for too long.”

Peter nodded, “Check the trash.” Peter joked, getting a chuckle from the man as he walked away.

Peter sighed and debated on telling Max. He was a busy man, and he didn’t really want anyone else on campus to see him as beat to hell as he was. He sighed, before deciding to take a shower in one of the shower rooms. The school decided to install them after several kids had buckets upon buckets of paint fall on them. Not to mention any other lab accident that may happen. Peter stepped into one of the showers and washed the blood and dirt off of him. He sighed as he pulled on his shirt and jeans. They didn’t smell too foul and Peter sprayed a bit of provided Febreze onto him. He quickly decided he would change outfits and tell Max what happened the next day. Even if his wounds healed, the trash man and cameras would be able to defend his point.

Peter looked in a mirror and saw the scraps on his face along with the black eye. He grabbed his bag quickly, thinking he had makeup in there. Even with his super-fast healing, he found that bruise still took longer to heal. Maybe his body saw the cuts as more important and went for them first? He didn’t know.

He started digging through the bag and realized that he didn’t have enough makeup to cover the whole bruise. That was going to cause trouble. Letting out a sigh, Peter had no choice but to make the walk to the subway sporting a bruise. He reached for his phone only to remember that Carlton completely destroyed it. Now he couldn’t tell Harry he wasn’t going to show or Miles that he couldn’t go on patrol until later. He let out a heavy sigh, trusting that they’d understand until he could pay for a replacement, as he began down the hallway.

He got to the train station with nothing more than a few weird looks. He sat down and began fidgeting uncomfortably. After a few painfully long minutes, he got to his stop and jogged the rest of the way. When he arrived home, he walked into the kitchen. There was a note on the table. ‘Long shift at work today, won’t be home until 10:30, dinner is leftovers. -Love, May.’ He smiled softly and made a sandwich, before taking it upstairs to his room to do his homework.

After about an hour and a half, he heard the doorbell ring. Peter hurried down the stairs, knowing it wasn’t May but still wondering who it was. He got to the door and the person knocked.

“Peter?” Harry’s voice rang from behind the door. He sounded slightly peeved. Peter opened the door and Harry let out a relieved sigh.

“I’ve texted you 50 times, no answer. I’ve called you 15 times, no answer. Can I please have an e-“ Harry stopped and took in Peter. He had his hand cupped over his eye like was blocking something from him. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” Peter asked, acting like nothing was up but failing horribly.

“You know what I mean.” Harry took a step in and shut the door behind him. “Why are you hiding your eye from me?”

“No reason.” Peter squeaked, he cursed himself for doing so.

His boyfriend grew suspicious of him. Harry began walking towards Peter while Peter backed away. Soon Peter’s back hit the wall which caused him to gasp because of the bruise on his back. Before he could slide away, Harry placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and moved his hand so it was on top of Peter’s. He grabbed Peter’s hand lightly pulled it away, seeing Peter’s black eye and scratch. His other hand immediately cupped his face. “Peter, what happened?!”

“Har, I’m okay. I just- rough patrol?” His voice came out more as a question than a reply.

“Miles called me and said you never showed up for patrol,” Harry said. “And these injuries would’ve been well over healed by now if they were from last night or even this morning.”

Peter let out a resigned sigh. “I got beat up…” he mumbled.

Harry let out a sigh, before leading him to the couch. “Come on, tell me what happened.” He murmured.

Peter immediately laid onto Harry’s lap, his head using Harry’s legs as a pillow, as he’d done so many times before. Harry instinctively began running his fingers through Peter’s uncombed hair. Peter hummed softly. “They called me a fag and I pulled out a reverse card,” Peter admitted casually.

Harry stuttered. “You’re kidding. You’ve gotta be kidding- Peter!”

He sat up. “It was funny though! They were blushing and everything, you should’ve seen it.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Then what?”

“Then they beat me up and locked me in a dumpster.”

Harry looked down at him as he laid down on his lap again. “Like, locked you locked you, or you just stayed in there?”

“Like locked me locked me.”

He let out a deep sigh. “What’re their names, I’ll take care of them.”

Peter glared at him. “Well, there’s no way that’s happening.”

“Peter, they beat you up and left you bleeding in a dumpster.”

“You’d kill them!” Peter sat up to look him in the eyes.

“Peter! They treated you like trash! They literally threw you in the trash!” Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what Peter was doing. “You’re protecting them! Why are you doing that? They don’t deserve to be justified by you!”

“No!” Peter stood up. “I’m telling Max tomorrow. Don’t yell at me for protecting them, they don’t need to be protected. You, on the other hand, are being overprotective right now.”

Harry took a deep breath. “How am I supposed to believe you when in the past that is exactly what you’ve done?”

“Name a time that I’ve done that.” Peter was getting slightly defensive.

“Flash, Alex Simpson, Ricky Fresno, James-“ Harry stopped when Peter sat back next to him.

“That was a rhetorical question,” Peter muttered.

Harry sighed. “Pete, you can’t stop putting off your own health. Come on, let’s get you bandaged up.”

Peter made a face. “Harry, I have speed healing.”

“That doesn’t mean you should leave these wounds open. They could get infected.”

Peter shuddered at the idea. He once had a cut on his arm infected. It wasn’t something he wanted to deal with ever again to say the very least… He let out an irritated sigh, before nodding. “Alright fine.”

Harry pulled him to the bathroom, where Peter removed his shirt and sat down on the toilet. Harry sighed sadly when he saw the dark bruises on Peter’s chest and back. He grabbed disinfectant and began to clean Peter’s wounds, feeling his heartbreak every time the brunette flinched under his touch. There was a large gash in Peter’s back. Harry could only imagine what kind of scrap metal had been large enough to make an injury as large as that one. Luckily none of them were still bleeding.

Harry placed a hand on Peter’s back to get him to stop squirming. He didn’t realize that he had placed it on his bruise until he noticed that Peter was holding his breath. He pulled his hand back only to have Peter lean back on it.

“Your hands are cold.” Peter’s voice was slightly lighter than usual at the beginning of the sentence and slowly came back down to normal.

Harry sighed softly and held his hand there as he gently cleaned out the cut on his back. After a minute or two, he finished cleaning it out. He grabbed the bandages and began wrapping his wounds carefully. “Is that too tight?” He asked.

Peter shook his head. “No,”

Harry nodded. “Okay, wait here.”

He left the room and searched Peter’s closet carefully, before picking out a large, fluffy hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. He returned to the bathroom to see Peter picking lightly at the bandages. “Here.” He said, handing him the clothes.

Peter thanked him, pulling the clothes on, as Harry left to search the freezer for an ice pack. Harry came back to find Peter standing.

“Peter, you should be sitting.” Harry tried getting him to sit on the sink but Peter kept standing.

“I’m just a little bruised and cut up. Nothing broken.” Peter saw Harry’s worry and smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, you know that I’ve been through way worse. I’ll be fine by morning.”

Harry made a face. “Come on let’s cuddle.” He decided for him.

Peter immediately perked up and happily followed Harry to his room. Peter dug his laptop out of his backpack as Harry sat down on his bed, making room for Peter. After a minute or two of searching for his charger and plugging the laptop in, Peter nestled into Harry’s side. He put the ice pack carefully onto Peter’s back as the laptop loaded up. “So why didn’t you reply to my texts?” Harry asked, pulling a blanket over the two of them.

Peter made a sour face. “Carlton broke my phone. I tried to get the scraps but they were too busted up. I got the SD card though and the rest of my stuff is stored on the cloud so I don’t think I lost anything.”

“Carlton?” Harry sat up slightly to look at Peter. Peter groaned as he realized the name slip. “You mean Carlton Wagner? He did this to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. With some of his friends.” Peter sighed.

“Of course it was.” Harry groaned. “That kid has serious anger issues.”

Peter could practically see the cogs turning in Harry’s brain. “Stop that.”

Harry looked down. “What?”

“You’re plotting something, stop it. I already told you, I’m going to tell Max tomorrow. Let it go for now.” Peter argued softly.

Harry sighed and pulled Peter closer. “Alright alright. I’ll stop.”

Peter made a relaxed noise as Harry began running his fingers through his hair. He logged into his computer and brought up Netflix. “What do you wanna watch?” He hummed, feeling relaxed.

Harry shrugged. “Whatever looks good.”

Peter looked up and started staring at Harry. “What are you looking at?” He asked jokingly.

“You said we should watch what looks good. I am.” Peter replied playfully.

“Oh my god, you are that cheesy.” Harry groaned but slowly began to laugh.

“I’m just stating facts here, Mister looks good in every picture.” Peter smiled as he clicked on Criminal Minds.

“I do not,” Harry stated. When he said that, Peter immediately made a face. He reached into Harry’s pocket, pulled out his phone, and went to his pictures.

“Yes, you do.” Peter stopped scrolling and faced the phone to Harry. “See?”

The picture showed Gwen holding Peter’s phone. Harry remembered that picture being taken because Peter’s chair gave out right then. Peter was super blurry, but his slight panicked face was still able to be seen. Miles and Anya were slightly blurry, having dived to catch Peter. Harry had also dived for Peter, but he wasn’t blurry. He looked straight out of a magazine. Harry rolled his eyes. “You photoshopped that before you sent it to me.” He defended. “I know you have the skills.”

Peter grinned, snuggling closer to Harry. “It totally wasn’t.” He denied, shoving Harry’s phone back in his pocket.

The ice pack cooled his back as he leaned into Harry, feeling the weight of sleep quickly begin to press down on him. “Are you allowed to stay the night?” He asked through a yawn.

Harry hummed. “Yeah probably, why?”

Peter shifted as close as he could as the episode began playing. “I don’t wanna move anymore.”

Harry let out a content sigh as he watched along with Peter. Not just because he was hanging out with his boyfriend but also because he had just come up with the perfect plan for revenge.

~~~

“You know that you don’t have to walk me to school.” Peter stepped out of the subway with Harry in tow.

“Oh, but I want to.” Harry smiled with faux innocence. Peter gave Harry a look as they got out of the crowd.

“What are you planning Harry?” Peter sighed, knowing that it was going to be something against Carlton.

“You’ll see, bug, you’ll see.” Harry hummed.

Peter gave him a skeptical look, before leaning into Harry. After 10 minutes, the train stopped. Peter led Harry to Horizon, stepping into the bright sun. Peter began walking to Max’s office. Harry waited outside as Peter knocked. After a moment, the heard, “Come in,” and Peter entered Max’s office.

He looked around, waiting to see if Carlton would walk past. He remembered Carlton from the short time he was at Horizon. No one knew how he got into Horizon with his temper of personality. He was smart and all, but an all-around dick. Maybe he was able to trick Max into thinking that he was a good guy or that he could change.

The only reason he’s been able to stay in was that people were too scared to actually tell on him. That’s how terrible this kids’ beat ups were. He let out a sigh, knowing Peter must’ve been in pain from this kid. Every second he thought about it made him angrier and angrier. Harry watched silently, before hearing a familiar sneering laugh. He looked up and watched Carlton and a few other boys pass. He looked to the door Peter had disappeared behind, and then to Carlton, who was turning a corner. He made up his mind and followed Carlton.

“He wasn’t reported missing.” One of the guys said.

“Then he either got out or we did his family a favor.” Carlton laughed and the others did as well.

“What about his lover? Do you think that he’s looking for him?” Another asked.

“Harry is probably not even his boyfriend. He probably just fucked him once out of need or to make that whore less bitchy.” Carlton answered. “Parker is just his late-night booty call. But could you imagine? Harry Osborn loving a fag like him?”

Harry, upon hearing that, felt furious. He rushed up to them, grabbed Carlton, spinning him around, and decked him in the face. Carlton stumbled back, letting out a cry of alarm, before falling on his ass and covering his bloody nose. “Fuck!” He screamed.

“Excuse me, I thought I heard you talking shit about my boyfriend, could you repeat that?” He snarled, an angry look on his face.

A few people stopped to stare. One boy immediately made a face, before standing up and covering the camera. A few people began moving around, blocking cameras and deactivating security bots. Harry grinned. He knew that Carlton had made enemies, but he didn’t think he’d made enemies of the entire school.

Carlton recomposed himself and scowled. “Well if it isn’t the rich kid that got kicked out of Horizon. What are you even doing here?” Carlton sneered and he raised his fists.

“I’m here on Peter’s behalf, and you’re right. I don’t go here so I can’t be kicked out. You, on the other hand, can be kicked out.” Harry couldn’t help but let his smug expression shine through. Next thing he knew, Carlton was swinging. He got Harry in the gut, which caused Harry to stumble.

“Kick his ass, Harry!” A short girl with black fading into purple yelled. Her voice only broke through the crowd’s cheers for a second. Harry threw another punch at Carlton and it was a pretty good hit, but Carlton had good hits as well.

~~~

“Thank you for telling me this Peter,” Max said standing. “Carlton was a part of a raffle to get into Horizon. Some of the teachers along with me thought it would be a good way to give more people a chance to learn.”

“Really? No background checks or anything?” Peter questioned.

“There was on all of the raffle winners. Carlton’s record was clean, now I think it’s because he used scare tactics on his victims. He had the grades.” Max sighed. “I promise that he’s going to be kicked out and everyone will be questioned about him.”

“Thanks, Max. I really appreciate-“ Peter trailed off as he picked up on cheering. Max wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but Peter could and he knew what was going on. “Max, I think something stupid is going on.”

“What?” Max asked as Peter stood up and walked to the door.

“Come with me, please? And also am I allowed to stop Harry from being an idiot?” Peter asked as he opened the door. Max nodded and followed Peter.

They both reached the crowd and some students turn to face Max. They seemed to be ready to create a wall between the fight and Max.

“Is Harry fighting Carlton?” Peter asked, displaying his worried side rather than his annoyed. He knew Harry would get into a fight with Carlton, but he thought he’d at least be there to stop it.

The kids guarding looked at each other then back to Peter. “Please let me through, I gotta stop him from murdering him,” Peter begged. They looked at each other again then moved to let Peter through.

Peter nodded to not only them but to Max as well. After passing them, Peter let his worried facade melt away. To say that he was pissed was an understatement. He understood that Harry was protective over him, but he didn’t understand that he couldn’t just go and start a fight.

The people around him seemed to feel his anger as he passed because they made way and quiet down. It was probably the look on his face that was so full of poison that it could kill a raddled The hulk with one glance. Peter neared the center and saw Harry and Carlton fighting like animals. He let out a disappointed noise and walked towards them. They didn’t notice him until Peter grabbed them both by the hair and banged their heads together.

“Idiotas! Tanto de usted! Conmigo! Ahora mismo!” Peter yelled. The hallways went silent with his yell. Sure, they knew Peter could get angry and spoke Spanish, but never had they seen him hurt someone out of anger. He almost reminded them of Anya when she got angry.

Harry was about to say something when Peter tightened his grip on his hair. “No hay excusas! No puedo dejarte solo por diez minutos sin maldito vas feral!” Peter hissed as he dragged both of them by the hair to Max. Carlton tried to escape from Peter’s grasp only to receive a tug.

“No me prueba Carlton. Ya estoy harto con toda tu mierda, es toda esta escuela.” Peter hissed as the got right in front of Max.

He dropped both of them and got a good look at them. Harry’s nose was bleeding and he had a busted lip. It looked like Carlton had gotten him on the ground and stepped on his face or something. His hair was disheveled and he had a dark splotch under his eye. His neck was bright red like Carlton had attempted to choke him out. Carlton’s ear was ripped from Harry presumably pulling his earring out during the fight. He was holding his arm which had scrapes on it, somewhat like rugburn, and he had a large gash on his forehead that was bleeding, running down his face. Peter scowled, another rush of anger flaring from his gut, as he knocked their heads together once again. “If you try to beat each other up again I’m beating you both up.” He snapped.

He took a step back, so Max could look at the two. He glanced at Peter once and saw that he was still pissed. “You two need to go to the infirmary. Carlton, I’ll speak to you after your patch up. Come with me.” Max ordered. “All if you off to class.”

The rest of the students nodded and went off. It was a good thirty seconds before the grip on both Harry’s and Carlton’s heads disappeared and the found of footsteps echoed down the halls.

“Why am I the only one getting a talking to?” Carlton barked at Max.

“You have explaining to do to your parents why you’re being expelled. You’re lucky Peter won’t press charges unless you were to corner him again or anyone else. Especially because he has the evidence that would get you jail time for sure.” Max warned.

“I didn’t do nothing!” Carlton yelled.

“There’s no point in lying. There were cameras and a trash man that will testify finding Peter in that dumpster.” Max glared.

“That’s still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t get a talking to! He started this fight!” Carlton snarled.

“Because nothing that I can say will beat what Peter will say to him.” Max gave Harry a glance. Harry knew he was in for it when Peter knocked his head against Carlton.

“How could you tell?” Carlton question dully.

“He swore in Spanish,” Harry responded.

~~~

Max had Harry stay the whole school day in the infirmary. He got to hear the screaming match between Carlton and his parents. The way they fought was nothing like how he would fight with his father. Carlton was the aggressor while his parents only show disappointment in his actions. Not like his father’s because they actually had a reason to be disappointed.

There was a knock on the door and Max entered. “Sorry for holding you here all day. I knew that Peter wanted to talk to you so I thought it would’ve safer to do it here.” Max joked. “But unfortunately for you, Peter wants you to meet him at his house.”

Harry’s face immediately fell. “This will be the end of me, Max.”

Max chuckled. “Oh relax, he won’t kill you.”

Harry gave him a hard glare. “Yes, he will, Modell.”

Max raised his hands in surrender. “If you need a hospital, call me.”

Harry sighed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Here’s my will: everything goes to Peter even if he’s the one who kills me.”

Max laughed. “Noted. Go, don’t keep him waiting.”

Harry nodded and raced towards the exit. As he reached the entrance, he saw Peter leaning against the door, looking more than a little pissed. “H-Heeeyyyyy Pete…”

Peter looked up and Harry felt his blood run cold. He was definitely pissed. Peter looked away from Harry and began walking, not saying a single word. The whole way back to Peter’s place was like that. Harry tried to start up a conversation but only received glares.

Once getting to Peter’s house, Harry mentality prepared himself for the lecture he was about to get. He stepped in after Peter and shut the door behind him.

“What part of I’ll handle it don’t you get?” Peter said through his teeth.

“Peter, he was-”

“Harry, stop.”

Harry flinched. He knew Peter was mad at him but… he was really mad. “Harry, I promised you I’d take care of it. You watched me walk into Max’s office. I told you to wait outside. It was the one thing I asked of you! But no! You had to go off and literally start a fistfight! I asked ONE THING OF YOU HARRY!” His voice was progressively getting louder, and Harry knew he had crossed a boundary.

“I-I’m sorry, he was saying things and-” Harry began.

“Harry, I don’t care that he was saying things! He always says things! People always will say things! That is not probable cause to run off and start a fucking fight, Harry!”

“I just couldn’t let him say-“

“Oh for fuck sakes, Harold! I’m not a kid anymore! I don’t need you to stand up for me every single time something happens!” Peter yelled. “Even when I don’t do something I’m doing something! I’m holding myself back! I could have easily put Carlton and his friends in that trash can but I didn’t! I was being the bigger man! Me not fighting back doesn’t mean I need to be saved! Why can’t you see that?!”

Harry stared at the floor, feeling a rush of guilt. He knew Peter had his reasons for not fighting back, but Harry had his for fighting. He looked down. “I’m sorry Peter. He was saying bad things about you and I couldn’t just stand by and listen to that.”

Peter sighed. “I know Harry, I get you wanna protect me but you have to stop. There are times when it’s okay and times where it’s not. And that was not okay, Harry.” Peter wasn’t yelling anymore, but his voice still had a layer of warning to it that made Harry almost cower.

Harry looked up at Peter. He was standing across from him, his arms crossed, but he wasn’t looking at him. Finally, after a moment, Peter sighed loudly. “Come on, let’s change your bandages.”

Peter led Harry to the bathroom and began digging through the cabinets while Harry sat down on the counter. He pulled out the bandages and a cloth. Peter ran the cloth under water and left it to sit so he could remove Harry’s old bandages.

A scab had formed on Harry’s lip and the bruises had darkened slightly around his neck. Peter frowned as he pulled the rag out of warm water. He moved to Harry and kept his gaze on him as he wiped his mouth clean if the semi-crusted blood. Despite how vicious the fight had been, Harry didn’t have many bleeding wounds. Just his lip and a large cut on his cheek. Peter wiped his cheek and frowned when he saw Harry’s guilty look. He didn’t try to comfort him since what he did wasn’t okay, but it still hurt seeing Harry so upset. He swallowed thickly before applying Neosporin and replacing the bandages, before dropping the rag in the sink. “Come on.” He muttered, leaving the bathroom.

Harry watched for a moment, before pushing himself off the counter and following Peter into the living room. He was digging through the freezer before pulling out a small bead ice pack and a large bean ice pack. Peter walked over to Harry and put the big ice pack on Harry’s neck and pressed the other to his cheek.

It was silent. A bad silence. The atmosphere matched when Peter got into an argument with Norman. Granted Peter didn’t start it, but he did say a few choice words to Norman that got Harry upset. It was uncomfortable as Peter led him to the couch and sat him down. He visibly flinched as Peter stared at him for a moment before saying, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He began walking down the hall when he stopped. “And stay there this time.” He ordered.

He watched after Peter, feeling a rush of guilt and frustration. He hadn’t wanted to upset Peter, but he was really mad. He stared at the ground for a moment. He hadn’t noticed Peter walkout until a large blanket was draped over his shoulders. He looked up to see Peter avoiding his gaze. He sat down on the other side of the couch and reached into a plastic bag he had brought out. Harry watched curiously until Peter threw a Snickers bar at him, hitting him square in the face.

Peter sat on the other side of the couch and turned on the TV. After flipping through channels he stopped on the ID channel. He leaned himself into the armrest and watched. Peter didn’t feel like talking to Harry at the moment, but he also didn’t want him to leave. He just needed to calm down a little more so that he didn’t yell at Harry again. Luckily Harry knew Peter long enough to know that that was what his body language was saying.

Halfway through the first episode, Harry had spread the blanket over to Peter. If he had done that earlier Peter would have pushed it off. Peter cast a glance over to Harry, who was watching the TV but still looked downcast. He sighed. He was still upset, definitely, but that was still his boyfriend who was still in pain. He scooted over to Harry and shuffled under his arm, leaning into him. Harry looked surprised and began smiling and leaned down to kiss him. Peter hissed dangerously. “Don’t push your luck, Osborn.” He warned.

Harry immediately stopped and pulled away. He glanced down at Peter. He definitely still looked upset. His eyes were narrowed and he was tense against Harry, but Harry could feel him beginning to ease down. He closed his eyes and sighed softly and leaned back.

When the episode ended and the other began, Peter leaned more into Harry. “You scared me,” Peter mumbled. “I just came out and heard the cheering and then you were acting like an animal.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

Peter shook his head. “It isn’t okay, Harry. Never do anything like that again, please. I couldn’t recognize you for a second there.”

Harry stiffened and nodded. “I won’t…” He mumbled.

Peter leaned the rest of his weight into Harry. “Not ever again.”

“I promise, I won’t lose it again,” Harry promised, leaning in and kissing the top of Peter’s head. Peter let out a relieved sigh as he closed his eyes.

[foolishlovebugbaby]

stupid cupid | part 1

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

college!au / bang chan x fem!reader

Summary: bang chan is always complaining about being single since birth, so best friend reader decides to play cupid and sets him up. big mistake.

Genre: angst-y?? with some fluff later on idk you decide (a Lot of slow burn so idk how many parts this multi-shot will have lmao)

Warnings: none

college life, to summarise, was hectic.

multiple deadlines for multiple classes; pages upon pages of assignments and essays that needed to be done; hour long lectures almost every single day, and on top of all of that, a part-time job as a book clerk at the library that needed to be held down in order to help pay for your apartment rent.

needless to say, your days were filled with so much to do encapsulated in such little time.

thankfully, you were not alone.

you had your best friend Chan to hold you down through it all even though he had just as much struggles as you did

you had met him right before you started college on a website while looking for housemates in order to afford rent (you were drowning in student loans and so was he, so to you it was a match made in heaven)

to say your parents were reluctant to let you live with a male was an understatement- but after meeting him and realizing that he was a total sweetheart that couldn’t hurt a fly and that there was no other option, off you went. 

you two were very similar in many ways; for one, you both shared a deep love for movies and films and star wars, which is why you both made a childish pinky promise to always have movie nights on wednesday evenings and the tradition hasn’t been broken since

another thing you also shared in common was the fact that you both were completely, utterly, stupidly and perfectly single.

he, since birth, and you since the 11th grade when your first love became your fist ( and, thus, worst) heartbreak

bonding over these things and the fact that you both were endlessly passionate about reaching your goals allowed you both to develop a deep and meaningful friendship, enough to make you both realise that you were each others’ best friends

whenever he’d stay up and pull all-nighters to get his work done, you were always next to him on the dining table doing the same even though you didn’t need to, but wanted to keep him company just so that he didn’t feel alone.

and whenever you had mental breakdowns during exam season, he was always there with ice cream and flash cards in hand to help you get through it all

needless to say, even though the first two years of college were anything but a breeze, chan always made you feel okay.

so now there you two were, third year college students on your run-down, second-hand couch, watching re-runs of the big bang theory and catching up on how the week was so far.

“it makes me feel so lonely watching minho and his girl act all cutesy in class, i feel like the ultimate third wheel.” chan whined next to you on the couch and you rolled your eyes

“you’ve been complaining for so long about how you feel oh so lonely, why don’t you just find someone then? there are enough people all over campus pining over you anyway.” you said, scoffing at the brunette.

chan had been complaining for so long about how he felt like a deprived lovebug and how he was an utter virgin in everything that had to do with love, and you were getting annoyed with how often he complained

“but that’s the thing- i don’t even know where to start! how do you even approach people? how do you even know whether that person is a nice person? god, they should teach us ‘finding a life partner 101′ instead of the laws of thermodynamics, it’d be way more useful.” he rambled on

“you’re so whiny channie. you know what? let me help you. i can set you up on a blind date with someone who i think you’d like so that the filtering process would be shortened- how does that sound?” you turned to look at him, propping your elbow onto the  couch headboard and rested your head into the palm of your hand

suggesting this was your first mistake.

he looked at you quizzically, his thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinty

“you would do that? for me?”

“if it gets you to shut up then of course.” you grinned sarcastically and giggled, with him rolling his eyes at you

“oh haha,” he said and stuck his tongue out “forget i even said anything.” he huffed and got all pouty and exaggerated by crossing his arms and looking away from you. you could only laugh at his feigned hurtful expressions

“i’m kidding! you know i’m just joking- oh stop pouting you big baby.” you said, grabbing ahold of his bicep to get his to turn and look at you

his very muscular bicep

“i’m being serious okay! i want to set you up with someone so that my poor channie stops feeling so lonely all the time.” you mimicked his pout and patted his head

“alright, fine. i’m trusting you with this. if i get dumped i’m blaming you.”

“deal.”

you didn’t have to blink twice to agree to this whole ordeal or even to suggest it; you and chan were just friends- best friends at that, and everything between you both was completely platonic

or so you thought.

so there you were, in your literature lecture, spying on the one girl you thought would be the perfect fit to chan’s empty heart.

so far you knew that her name was Hana, that she was a screenplay major (and so, obviously, knew a good lot about film), that she was recently single and ready to mingle (according to people around campus), and that she looked absolutely gorgeous

jackpot

being your outgoing self, you immediately approached her all wide-eyed and hopeful.

“hi, you don’t know me but would you mind going on a blind date with my friend?” you quipped innocently

she looked completely shocked and dumbfounded

afterall, the only thing she knew about you was that you shared literature class together- and that’s about it.

reader you complete weirdo

“uhm, may i ask what your name is?” she said, looking bashful and flustered

“i’m y/n. and don’t worry, chan isn’t a complete weirdo- shit did i just say his name?? fuck i just took out the point of a blind date.” you mentally slapped yourself for being this much of a dumbass, but to your surprise, hana’s eyes flickered with interest.

“do you mean bang chan? as in cute-boy-in-the-physics-department bang chan?” 

“uh yeah i think so? cute boy? since when was channie known as cute bo-”

“i’m definitely in! i’m sorry for sounding so overly-enthusiastic, it’s just chan’s been quite popular these days, and i’m just a little excited.” she said bashfully

“don’t be sorry! just give me your number and i’ll text you the details soon!”

to say that chan was excited when you told him would be an understatement

“you’re going to love her, channie! god, i’m such a good wingman, you should pay me for setting you up this good.” you said, smirking, feeling proud of yourself

“don’t get too cocky just yet. but oh my god, i can’t wait to meet her!” he said grinning, completely over the moon, and your smile matched his.

wednesday evening rolled around, the day of their blind date, and you couldn’t have been more excited for him. you had arranged for them to meet at a cute little trendy café downtown- perfect for a first date- where they could just talk and get to know each other.

you honestly felt like a proud mom sending off her son to get married, and the happiness you felt for him was genuine- no if’s, and’s or but’s.

“do i look okay?” chan said, coming out of his room dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees, a black muscle tank top and his white denim jacket. he wore an expression of nervousness- a very cute one, at that- and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a little longer than normal with a little more affection than you’d like to admit.

“you- you look great channie!” you said, stuttering at first as you were taken aback by just how attractive he looked

you always knew your best friend was handsome- but something about the way his ruffled hair settled on his head and how his lips were flushed a deep red from biting them out of nervousness made your heart skip a beat

but of course, you ignored it.

this was the second mistake.

he was attractive, and that was that.

“you really think so?” he smiled bashfully, ears going red when he saw how your eyes gleamed after seeing him. it made him feel fluttery and giddy to have you compliment him.

“you look really handsome, channie- i mean it.” you said again, a soft smile dancing on your lips and he looked down and scratched the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed by all the attention you were giving him.

“you should wear that really nice perfume you own!” you said giddily

“already am! i know it’s your favorite scent- i just hope she likes it too.” 

after a few more minutes of chan’s nervous questions and you telling him to calm down, he was off.

he didn’t know what Hana looked like- all you told him was that she would be sitting alone next to the window in a pink top.

so when he laid eyes on the girl you described, he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

she was a sight to see, that was for sure.

before he entered, he sent a text to you 

to stardust: u didnt tell me you were setting me up w a fukn model

from stardust: oopsies (✿◠‿◠)

he chuckled and rolled his eyes before entering the café and making his way over to her.

he introduced himself, as did she, and the night played on.

meanwhile, on the other side of town, there you were on the dining table, finishing up your last analytical essay on whatever the heck you had to analyse for your creative writing class

it was ten pm now, and you groggily made your way onto your sofa with your fluffy throw blanket wrapped around you like a burrito 

you flicked through the channels on the tv, being unable to find anything remotely interesting, until you realised something

it was wednesday.

movie night day.

and you were alone.

you felt a pang in your chest at that realisation. after 2 years of almost always spending wednesday nights with chan by your side, you suddenly grew increasingly aware of how lonely you were. by now you two would be cramped on the couch, debating over whether or not to put on a new movie or series or to re-watch some of your all-time favorites.

but there you were, staring into space, alone and cold on your couch, chan no longer beside you.

you immediately buried those thoughts away 

‘he’s happy and having a good time, and i’m so happy for him- he’s my best friend.’ you thought to yourself

your phone dinged, interrupting your train of thought

from solo: this is going too well, im buying u sushi next week to thank u

you let out a breathy laugh at that

to solo: hehe glad to hear that

from solo: gosh i love you

your breath hitched in your throat when you read that message. it made your heart suddenly pick up speed and made your tummy feel weird. he’s never said that before, you thought to yourself, your mind malfunctioning. you blinked yourself back into reality.

to solo: i know.

with that, you shut off your phone. 

you had to remind yourself why he said it. 

he was being thankful, nothing more. that’s all there is to it. 

i’m his best friend, nothing more. that’s all there is to it.

you had to shake of the stinging feeling in your chest and chose to distract yourself by watching the nature documentary that was playing on tv, even though it bored you out of your mind and caused you to just stare at it blankly for the rest of the night. 

soon enough you fell asleep on the couch, alone and cold, with the tv playing a show you didn’t like on a channel you didn’t watch with a dull pain brewing in the middle of your chest that you chose to actively ignore. 

and that was the third mistake. 

i’ll just end it here for part one. please reblog and like so i know you want this multi-shot to continue! also all my star wars babies- peep those references heheheheheheh