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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Porcelain Steve - Part 6

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

Even though he's expecting company, Eddie still jumps and yelps when his front door flies open without so much as a knock, revealing Dustin and Will.

"I know I said to let yourselves in, but a warning knock would have been nice," Eddie shoots them a glare, not bothering to stand from the couch where he'd been pretending to watch whatever terrible daytime movie was playing.

"Sorry," Will apologizes sheepishly while Dustin just laughs.

"Which of your moms dropped you off? If it's Claudia, I'm filing a complaint about how you were raised."

"Har har," Dustin says, swinging his backpack off and knelling down to unzip and dig into it. "We biked here."

"Lucky you, then. The complaint will wait."

Dustin wrestles a blanket from his backpack. Unwrapping it reveals Steve, hair rumpled but otherwise unharmed. "Alright. Delivered safely. We gotta go meet El and Mike now but we'll see you on Saturday, right?"

Eddie sets Steve on the couch, angled towards the TV. "Yeah. I get the feeling if I don't show for the barbeque that Joyce will show up here and drag me there by my ear."

"She would," Will confirms with an easy shrug. The boys turn to leave before Will exclaims, "Oh! Almost forgot!" before digging into his pocket for something, turning around to give it to Eddie.

"What?"

"El and Steve spoke again. He had a lot of things to say. I spent a good portion of the last three days writing down everything as El repeated it to me. This is your letter," he says, having successfully pulled out what looked to be a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Oh," Eddie takes it, and realizes it's not just one folded piece of paper, but three. "Wow."

"Seems you are Steve's second favorite," Dustin grins at him from the doorway.

"You are first, I assume?"

"No. Robin is. She got five pages."

That tracks, actually. Eddie's not surprised Robin got the most pages.

Soon enough, the boys are off and Eddie returns to the couch, pulling his legs up to sit crisscross. "Alright, Stevie, let's see what you have to say."

He unfolds the pages completely and is met with Will's now familiar penmanship scrawled across the sheets of wide rule paper that has clearly been ripped from a composition notebook. He's seen Will's handwriting plenty over this last year, quickly scribbling notes during DnD sessions and on the little item cards Will makes himself to hand out when he DMs.

Will's handwriting isn't always the neatest, but this looks like Will took time, wanted his writing to be legible. Flipping through the papers he sees it is two pages, front and back, of a letter, and the third page is a list of questions in a different, neater handwriting. He gets the feeling that Will probably didn't paraphrase anything. How many people got letters? How much of Will and El's time was devoted to doing just this?

Eddie feels emotional over this, misty-eyed and a lump in his throat, and he hasn't even read the damn letter yet.

"Shit, Stevie, do you even realize how loved you are?" Eddie asks out loud, turning to look at Porcelain Steve like he might answer him this time. Blank hazel eyes stare forward. Eddie shakes his head, to clear away his thoughts, and gets to reading. Not out loud, because he doesn't want Steve to hear how wet his voice will sound.

Eddie,

I guess the first thing I want to say is thank you. I was kind of freaking out when I first woke up like this. It was calming, that day on the lawn, after Robin and Nancy found me. You were so chill and just chatted my ear off like you would have if I were, like, there. I mean, there there and not like, doll-there, if you get what I mean.

Shit, man, being stuck like this would have been a hell of a lot worse without you, I'm certain. Everyone's been great, of course, and, like, no offense meant, Will and El, but you act most normal. Helps me feel, well, I don't know how, exactly. Describing emotions is not something I'm like, good at. Robin's great, too, but she catastrophizes, you know? And since I can't speak back, she can get herself pretty worked up about this and I hate that. Hate that I can't do anything to help her.

Shit. This isn't your issue. Don't include that. No, wait, do. Sorry, El. (It is here, off in the margin, that Will has added 'I wrote everything word for word. Enjoy the asides to El and me.) Hanging out with you helps her, I think. She seems less anxious on days we spend with you. So, I guess, I also want to thank you for that. For being there for Robin when I can't.

Eddie has to pause there because he had no idea. Robin has been a grounding force for him this whole time. He had no idea he was doing the same for her. She never said, or let on... well, that was probably her goal and now Steve's spilled the beans.

This is getting easier to say, even if I still don't know how to feel about the other two people who are going to be privy to everything said, or I guess from your end, written here. (Here, Will has transcribed a conversation they seemed to have had in the middle of writing this up.) Oh. He means us. - El Yes. Don't worry Steve, we'll do our best to forget everything you've said once it's written down. - Will Steve laughed and says thanks. - El I appreciate that but- well, being honest there's some things I want to say but I don't want anyone else to hear. Those conversations are better left face to face, anyway. So, uhh, what else did I want to say?

Oh! Yeah, I told Robin she could drive around the Bimmer, so she can have a car while I'm- so she doesn't have to bike everywhere but knowing her she probably won't take me up on that offer. Maybe you can talk her into it? Or, maybe she'll be willing to drive your van around and you can take the bimmer.

"Jesus, Stevie, can't you just be okay with existing?" Eddie says it under his breath and tenses instantly. For a moment, he forgot that Steve was right there on the couch with him, could hear him. Now he has to explain himself because Steve's already heard, and without the context of how Eddie really means those words, they can sound judgmental. "Shit. Sorry. I just read the part about your car and, dude, you just don't know how to not try and be helpful, huh? I bet it's destroying you on the inside that you can't do anything. But Steve, you gotta know, we don't care about you because you're useful."

Steve, of course, can't reply, so Eddie goes back to the letter.

Uh, what else was there? Oh! Yeah! I don't get migraines here. Or, in this body? Or, whatever it is. I haven't had one since this happened. Also, no hearing issues. Though I find myself wishing to be completely deaf sometimes. I get that Max can listen to Kate Bush for a week straight, but I'd like a little variety. God, what I wouldn't give to listen to the Top 40 again. Don't say anything, Munson. I can already see your judgmental face at my music taste. Unlike you, I have the ability to like multiple types of music. The Top 40 AND that one song from, uhh, shit. Might not have migraines or hearing issues at the moment, but the memory is still as it was. Which means it is shit. That one song by that metal band where their name sounds like it's metal? You know who I mean. (In the margin, Will has just written five little question marks in a row ?????)

"The band you were thinking of, it's Metallica," Eddie says.

Not important. But, uh, the reason for telling you this. I was hoping you might smuggle me to a show the next time your band plays at the Hideout? Last time I tried to go it was too loud and gave me a migraine, you remember, but I think that I could listen to your whole show like this. We might as well take advantage of the perks of this shit situation, right? So, uh, I wouldn't mind if you did that. Or, like, had Robin or someone else bring me. Whichever.

Actually, wait, I lied, I do care which way. I've already had them pen down Robin's letter, so you'll have to pass this on, but I want Robin to take me. So, I can also watch the show, not just listen. That was the part I liked most, when I went last time, before I had to leave. Wait. Scratch that. Ask Argyle. Other than you, he seems like the only person willing to be caught holding me in public, mostly because I don't think he even knows how to be embarrassed. Jesus that was such a weird sentence to say. Holding me in public. Such a weird thing to experience, too.

Uh, anyway, I think that's it for now. Thanks for everything, Eddie.

"I think you're handling this loss of bodily autonomy rather well, Steve. This letter is a lot more positive than the one I would have written if our roles were reversed," Eddie says with a sigh. He can't help but wonder what Steve would have said in this letter if it hadn't had to be filtered through two teenagers first.

He looks to the last page, the list of questions, and is surprised to see that, mixed in with questions about which sports team is winning (he is not going to watch Sportsball for Steve. There has to be a line drawn somewhere and this is it. He will ask Wayne about it later and hate the glee he sees in his uncle's eyes because now he's going to have to pretend to like sports for the unforeseeable future) and for honest updates about their friends are questions about Eddie's campaign that he's rambled on about since Steve can't escape. Steve wants spoilers, wants to know what Eddie has planned.

Steve has actually been listening. He'd been operating on the assumption Steve just tunes him out when he gets going, unable to stop his brain to mouth filter when it comes to talking about Dungeons and Dragons and his current campaign.

"I'm at your list of questions now. I can't answer anything about sports, and don't think I'm unaware of how you asked me and not Lucas. I see what you are doing and I'm not going to fall for it. So, your first non-sportsball question here; How is Dustin doing, really? Well, that's a whole thing but overall, okay."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #having steve write letters to everyone was sparked by jonathans even tho the wonder twins dont admit that #it was a passing comment when he walked in on Will explaining the difference between sorcerer and warlock to El and Porcelain Steve #just a quick 'i wonder what steve would have to say about this if he could talk'#and will and el were like! yes! what WOULD he say? El talk to him #and it evolved from there #also its not said because how would Eddie know? but the list of questions in different handwriting is Joyce's #to avoid campaign spoilers for Will‚ el asked joyce to write that part #they go through all the questions but im not writing those #this was mostly to get a little bit of Steve in here #feels weird to write a steddie fic where steve hasnt even spoken until 9k+ words into the fic #especially since i am NOT a slow burn person‚ not that i count this as slow burn #how do you define slow burn? does this count? help a girl out and let me know

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thelukesalvez · 4 years

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Worshipped

Prompt: You’re feeling a little insecure and just need Luke to show you how much he loves you.

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut

A/N: this one officially killed me :) as promised here’s some luke fluff / smut.

You were curled up in bed, reading an old book, when Luke got home that night. You hadn’t had a good night of sleep since he left for a case in New Mexico three days ago. This wasn’t surprising, since you never slept without him there, but the relief that washed over you upon his arrival was evident.

You hear his keys clink against the granite countertop, before his footsteps gradually grow closer and closer to the bedroom.

“You awake?” he asked, peering into the room.

You sit up in bed, setting your book on the nightstand before throwing the comforter off of your body.

“No, no, no-” he interrupts your movements. “Don’t get up. You look so comfortable.”

Your lips form into a pathetic pout, but before you can protest the fact that you wanted to get up so that you could properly greet him, Luke’s crossing the room to do just that. He leans over where you’re sitting and presses a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“Hi baby,” he whispers into your hair.

You hum, closing your eyes to his touch. His familiar smell filled your nostrils and his warmth radiated into you. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he replies. He pulls away all too quickly and turns to walk towards the master bath. “Be right back,” he promises, before crossing the threshold.

You relaxed back against the pillow, smiling peacefully to yourself. Nothing was better than having Luke home.

You go back to your book, only getting through a few paragraphs before he emerges from the bathroom, smelling of mint toothpaste and face cleanser. You look up long enough to notice that Luke has traded in his jeans for a pair of black, athletic shorts. They sit low on his hips, revealing his defined ‘v’ line. You marvel for a moment at his tanned, bare chest before looking back to your page.

Luke digs through the top drawer of his dresser briefly. After shutting it, you barely hear him cross the room, yet again. Only when he approaches your side of the bed and sits just beside where your legs were outstretched do you look up at him.

Without speaking, Luke grabs hold of the top of your book and tosses it carelessly to the side.

“What’d you do that-”

But your sentence remains unfinished as Luke leans in and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is slow, every move he makes is deliberate. His hand cups your cheek lightly and you don’t hide the hum of satisfaction that leaves your lips as his thumb traces down the length of your jaw line.

Luke’s other hand finds its way to your hip, which makes you hesitate briefly. You trusted Luke, wholly and completely. But you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious whenever he touched your stomach and hips. The man was sculpted like a Greek God, so it was only natural to feel insecure about your softer tummy.

You try to ignore the little voice in your head that was currently screaming at you. He can feel your fat. He’s repulsed by it.

You shift in bed, grabbing the hand he had resting on your abdomen and clutching it in your own instead. Luke doesn’t think much of the gesture. Instead, he uses the moment to slide further onto the bed, never breaking your kiss as he moved on top of you.

Luke’s hand moves to the hem of your shirt and begins pulling the fabric up. He wants you to shed the layer. You’re not sure why tonight was so bad- but the voices in your head wouldn’t stop going on about how unflattering you looked in comparison to your boyfriend. Luke and his perfectly sculpted abs were on top of you, and having your flab on full display in the brightly lit bedroom was unsettling.

You pull away, your lips breaking contact for the first time in minutes.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asks, when his eyes land on your worried face. His lips are flush and swollen.

“Nothing,” you try to act normal, but Luke can see through the act.

“Tell me,” he whispers. His palm is resting on your thigh. He squeezes the soft flesh reassuringly, but it just makes you more insecure.

“C-can we just turn off the lights?” you ask weakly.

Luke leans in again, this time his lips attaching themselves onto the tender spot on your neck he knows always gets you going. “But I wanna see you,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. It sends shivers down your spine, but does nothing to ease your anxiety.

You squirm out from under his grasp, shaking your head. “I- I just wanna turn them off.”

Luke’s stupidly perfect face contorts into a frown, he backs away from you, giving you space, but his eyes never once leave you. “What’s going on?” he probes.

You’re shaking your head, fighting back tears.

“It’s nothing- I’d just feel more comfortable if it were dark.”

He nods slowly, his lips slightly parted as he tries to understand. “Okay. Can you tell me why?”

You bite your lip and stare down at your lap. You can tell he’s officially worried now, because his head keeps dipping lower to try to get you to look at him, but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Baby-” he pleads so softly. And finally you think, fuck it.

“It’s nothing, I’m just- I’m a little insecure is all.”

Luke’s entire face falls. “What?” he asks, like he can’t just believe it.

“Luke-”

But he ignores your protests. “With me?”

You scoff, which only makes him look even more hurt.

“I mean, look at you,” you gawk, motioning towards his figure. “You’re…” your voice trails off. “You’re perfect.”

“So are you-” he tries to interject, but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not. I’m not, and that’s okay- but sometimes, especially in the light, I’m a little insecure. It’s no big deal-”

“Don’t I get a say?” Luke asks. You watch as he shifts his weight on the bed.

“In what?” you wonder.

He sighs. “In deciding how perfect or imperfect you are?”

Your eyes fall to the safety of your lap again, your cheeks burning at his words.

Luke scoots forward and collects your small hands in his much larger ones delicately. “Baby please- I want you to know how perfect you are to me.”

Slowly, Luke brought your fingertips to his lips, where he planted the softest kiss on your knuckles. You sighed, feeling guilty for even bringing any of this up in the first place. But you knew that each word you heard Luke say would help make you better- he made you feel loved and worthy.

And in that moment, you decided that maybe you did just need to be praised and taken care of for a night.

“I’m so lucky that I get to be with you.” Luke said. He leaned over and kissed you again, but with slightly more intensity this time. With his tongue, he licked your lower lip, you immediately opened your mouth wider, allowing him deeper access. Your tongues started sliding against one another.

Once again, Luke reached for the fabric of your t-shirt, and when Luke felt you stiffen underneath his touch he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” he whispered in your ear, his words making you melt against him.

The atmosphere was heavy, and you couldn’t seem to get enough air in your lungs. Luke’s mouth on your neck was doing wonders and all you could do was desperately grab at his biceps. You liked the feeling of his muscles moving when he did.

“Are you okay?” he asked lovingly.

You nodded frantically, “Yeah, please keep going.”

Luke smirked at the thought of you begging for him, and suddenly, you felt his hands sliding underneath your shirt, brushing your sides tenderly. Between his mouth still working at your neck and now his fingertips, you couldn’t help but arch your back and moan.

“Can we get rid of this now?” Luke asked, he was motioning towards the tshirt his hands were currently under.

And suddenly, you felt so safe, so cared for, that it didn’t seem to matter as much. So, you nod, and Luke quickly peels off the fabric.

Almost subconsciously, you let go of Luke’s biceps to cover your exposed tummy.

“Don’t hide from me,” Luke pleaded. He was now kissing down your chest and making his way towards your abdomen. “Wanna show you how much I worship you,” he grumbled. “All of you.”

You moaned with pleasure.

Luke kissed across your stomach, leaving wet marks all over you, while he simultaneously squeezed the fleshy part of your hips.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Slowly, Luke worked his way back up your body, his mouth only stopping once he reached your chest. He began kissing and licking at your nipples and you knew that you were soon going to be a writhing mess.

When Luke moved up your body, he pushed his hips forward. Despite the several layers of fabric, you could feel him hardening beneath you. You whined and gripped at Luke’s hair. You knew pulling at his hair would make him groan, and of course, you were right.

Luke detached his wet lips from your chest, kissing your lips again, murmuring sweet nothings in between breaths.

“My beautiful- perfect girl,” he said. “Gonna love you- all of you- forever.”

Tears were streaming down your face. You felt so loved and so needy for Luke.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please, oh my god, please…” you cried; your voice breaking.

“I got you, baby.” Luke said, gripping at the hem of your pajama shorts. Luke lowered himself down your body. He bent forward to undo the drawstring with his teeth and suddenly, you couldn't breath. This is the closest Luke had been to your heat all night and you wanted him more than anything.

Once you were bare and writhing beneath him, Luke dipped his head between your legs. You gasped when he wrapped his arms around your thighs to spread them apart. As soon as his lips attached to your skin, you let your head fall back against the pillow. Luke licked up your folds and sucked at your clit and kissed your inner thighs. Your hand was squeezing his curls between your fingers, as you desperately tried to find some sort of release. He used his fingers to part your throbbing fold, now pumping and licking at you wildly. A heavy, guttural groan escaped your lips.

“I’m so close,” you were barely able to mutter.

Luke hums between your legs. And with a curl of his finger and flick of his tongue, you completely let go, unraveling and crying out in relief beneath him.

You go limp on the mattress and Luke finally emerges from between your legs. He gives your inner thigh a soft kiss before crawling up your body.

“So beautiful,” he repeats, lust clouding his eyes.

By now, you’re exhausted, but you want more. You can’t seem to get enough of him, so you pull him in for a long, sweet kiss.

Luke smirks, willingly leaning in to your embrace.

Your hands trail down his back until they reach the top of his shorts. You snake your fingertips beneath the band and mutter, “Why are these still on?”

Luke chuckles and shimmies out of them, freeing himself from their confines.

Carefully, Luke straddles you, once again, lining himself up with you before whispering. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes- please.” You stuttered.

When Luke entered you, you wondered how it was possible that it got better every time- how he felt better every time. You gripped onto Luke’s shoulders with everything you had.

As Luke began moving, both of you moaned out in content.

Luke’s thrusts started deep and slow, but after a few moments, he began picking up his pace as he started to chase after his release. You pulled him in, your mouths colliding messily in between thrusts and Luke had no choice but to go faster.

He wanted to make you come again.

Wildly, Luke slipped his hand between your bodies and started to rub the bundle of nerves above your folds. You arch your back and let your head fall back, moaning at the contact.

Luke uses this opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin lightly.

“Feel so good,” you stammer incoherently.

You were close again and you bit your lip with the urge.

“Come for me, baby,” Luke grumbled against your throat. His deep, strained voice was enough to push you over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, and begin writhing beneath him.

Luke thought it was just about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

And just like every other time, the feeling of you clenching beneath him led to his own release. He kept thrusting through your orgasms, until you both were breathless. Luke all but collapsed on top of you, exhausted, before rolling onto his side. With what little energy he had left, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest tightly.

“Believe me when I say you’re perfect now?” he asks sleepily, kissing the top of your head lightly.

You hum in response, feeling so content and happy in his arms. Before giving in to your exhaustion, you heard Luke whisper into your ear how much he loved you.

You had no trouble falling asleep that night.

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psycho-slytherin · 3 years

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Strangers ch. 46

The truth begins to be untold, from multiple perspectives.

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Actress!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: fluff, angst, slow burn, strangers to friends to ??? I honestly don’t know what this counts as anymore

Warnings: Strong language

|mlist|

<–– Prev Next ––>

You can’t breathe for several seconds. You feel yourself begin to tremble, and Wonho must feel it too, because he places a protective hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?”

For a moment, the club swims before you. No. No. You’re not letting her win, not again. With enormous effort, you summon that numbness once more, letting it settle over you. In a single moment, you adjust your posture and expression, and although your throat feels like it’s about to close up, you don’t allow your voice to change. You’re an actress, after all. “Good to see you’re having fun,” you tell Yoongi cooly, ignoring Seoyeon. The redhead’s eyes narrow at your obvious disinterest. Yoongi’s gaze sweeps between you and Wonho, who’s glistening with sweat from dancing. Wonho’s mesh top is sticking to his defined abs.

“Looks like you are too,” Yoongi replies quietly. His brows knit together and his eyes search yours, almost pleading –

He can’t do this to me. It’s not fair. And you can’t keep your voice steady much longer. You take a long pull of your drink.

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon whines.

“Hyung!” Out of nowhere, Hoseok breaks through the crowd, looking wildly between you and Yoongi. “Ha… I-I didn’t know you’d be here!” He says through a too-wide smile.

Still looking at you, Yoongi jerks his head toward Seoyeon, who continues clinging to him. You notice Hoseok twitch.

Without breaking eye contact with Yoongi, you reach up and rest your hand on Wonho’s, who’s still holding your shoulder. “Wonho, I’m going to BTS’s private room. Hoseok, is it okay if Wonho comes with?”

“Of course.”

Wonho seems confused, but – bless him – he goes along with you as you turn your back on Seoyeon… and Yoongi.

“So! Tell me about your mixtape, how’s that going?” You hear Hoseok shout over the music as you lead Wonho away. By the time you finally shut the door, closing yourself off from the club, you feel like the night has lasted for far longer than a few songs.

The other members have disappeared, surely out on the dance floor or by the bar. Coats are strewn on the couch and chairs, and you can spot several empty bottles of soju on the counter.

‘Hey… you okay?” Wonho asks, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you answer too quickly.

“Want to talk about it?”

For a moment, just a moment, you consider telling him everything: about Lisa, missing and possibly dead. About Xiumin, who proved that you really couldn’t trust anyone. About Yoongi, whose betrayal hurt you more than any real boyfriend could. About Seoyeon, how she and her cronies followed you out of the hospital. About that night, the shove, the blood, the walk, the cold. About the photo, and how it ruined your lamppost meetings with Yoongi forever. You could tell him about how you found Seoyeon’s picture on Lisa’s laptop, making you fear the worst.

Or the relentless cyberbullying. Would Wonho understand? You reach up, rubbing your thumb against the Starry Night pendant. Your situation is comically unique – would anyone understand? You’re stronger now, yes, but what does your strength mean if Lisa is gone forever and Yoongi is dating your attacker?

Your phone buzzes. Finally, is it the contract from FYP Entertainment?

@mrsminnie<3: Guys! I made a poll, vote who u think Yoongi is better with- @seoyeonnielovesbts vs @yourname!

@jjksaysfuck: WHY does @yourname still think she’s relevant? Suga BROKE UP WITH HER lollll her career is #deadinthewater

@captainkookie21: @jjksaysfuck kinda like @yourname soon ;) #SUGA belongs to ARMYs! You’ll see ^-^

@streamDIEnamite03: Ok but like,,,, did anyone see that commercial with @WONHO and @yourname??? That was spicy 0_0

“Y/n?”

“Oh, sorry!” You realize you’ve been silent for several seconds too long. “Yeah. I’m fine. I should’ve known this would happen eventually, just…” You tuck your phone away. Not so soon.

“Dunno what he thinks he’s doing, showing up like this after that PR fiasco,” Wonho says, eyeing the door as though Yoongi is right behind it. “I mean, it looks like the girl wanted to come, Yoongi’s never been one for clubs. But seriously, dating a fan? You’d think he’d know better.”

You freeze. “Right.” You forgot that to the public, you and Yoongi met on the set of Possible. You forgot that you were never an ARMY – Yoongi wouldn’t date a fan.

“She gives me weird vibes, I dunno. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod. “I just want a few minutes without having to worry.” You’re both still standing awkwardly by the door, and you nod at the couch. “Wanna sit down? We can go back to the dance floor once we’ve caught our breath.”

“Sure. Hey, I never mentioned it earlier and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but that outfit looks really great on you.”

You laugh. Maybe the night doesn’t have to be a waste after all.

~~~

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon coos. “Buy me a drink?” “Get your own,” Yoongi growls, tugging his arm out of her grasp. He forgot the group had a VIP room at Club Xyon; what were they doing in it?

Spread around the dancefloor, he sees Jungkook and Jimin having one of their famous dance battles; Taehyung is dancing in the front, vibing with the smitten DJ. Jin and Namjoon are sitting in a booth, surrounded by gorgeous idols.

And Hoseok is with him. Y/n and Wonho are alone.

Seoyeon is still whining. “But Suga, I want you to get it for me!”

Ugh. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Anything. Make it strong.”

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok, making sure he knows to keep an eye on Seoyeon, before heading to the bar.

“Suga!” The pretty mixologist grins broadly at his approach. “I’m a big fan! What can I get for you?”

Yoongi nods. “Thanks. Can I get some sparkling water with vodka on the rim and – I don’t know, something strong? Whatever you want to make, but with an extra shot.”

She nods, and sets about making the drinks. As he’s waiting, Yoongi’s phone buzzes with a text:

D-man: eyo Gloss [11:13]

D-man: got some shit for u [11:14]

Yoongi: Please tell me it’s good [11:14]

D-man: u don’t pay me for good u pay me for results [11:15]

D-man: anyway idk about good, but it’s something? [11:15]

D-man: seems weird tho [11:16]

Yoongi: What do you mean? [11:17]

D-man: hang on there’s more [11:17]

D-man: lemme call u soon [11:17]

Yoongi: ???? [11:18]

“Here are your drinks – oh, no charge!” The mixologist says with a wink. “I’m never taking a cent from BTS.”

Yoongi laughs, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Call it a tip, then. I insist.”

Hoseok’s smile is strained as Seoyeon dotes on him. Yoongi wishes he could laugh at his discomfort, but Hoseok is the only one besides him and Y/n that actually knows what the girl is capable of.

“Here.” He hands Seoyeon the drink and sips from his own sparkling water. He refuses to lose his inhibitions around her.

Wonho and Y/n are alone. What if he hurts her?

Seoyeon takes a big swig. She was already drinking in the car on the way to the club, and Yoongi doesn’t understand why, with so much at stake, she can have fun.

She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n.

What he can’t understand is why Detective Kang and the rest of the police department aren’t investigating Seoyeon. Y/n did turn Lisa’s laptop over, right? Seoyeon’s photo was there, open on her desktop. Maybe they knew each other for unrelated reasons? But D would have told him.

Argh. This night wasn’t supposed to be such a mess. And what is Y/n doing?

~~~

“You’re kidding!” You snort into your glass of soju, almost spilling the drink down your front. “He said that?”

“Oh yeah. So I was like, dude, I’m not gonna fight you. Right? He was a head shorter than me. He didn’t like that, so he started swinging, but he ended up hitting my buddy–”

Already buzzed and determined to forget about Yoongi, you laugh harder than you need to. “That’s crazy.”

Your phone buzzes once, twice, three times. Argh. You glance at Wonho, hoping he didn’t notice the notification, but…

“Go ahead and take it,” Wonho says, ruffling his hair. “You’re hoping it’s the contract, right?”

“Ah – yeah, sorry.” You scroll through your notifications, past more hate messages. There’ve been fewer lately. You suppose you’re becoming old news. Still, some accounts have been more persistent. A text notification catches your eye:

Hi, L/n Y/n. I’m messaging you on behalf of Mr. Park of FYP entertainment. We expect a response to the contract offer by 5:00pm Tuesday.

“What?”

Wonho looks up from his screen. “What’s up?”

“This…” you furrow your brow. “This says I’ve already received the contract. But I’m certain I haven’t!” You reload your email inbox desperately, but nothing changes. Wonho leans closer, until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Check your trash folder?” he suggests.

“But I haven’t deleted anything!”

“Just check.”

You sigh and click to view your recently deleted emails. There, staring at you, is an email with the subject line L/n Y/n FYP Ent. Contract of Employment 20xx.

“Oh my gosh, there it is!” You squeal, quickly moving it back to your inbox before tossing your phone aside and throwing your arms around Wonho. “Thank you so much!”

Wonho is quick to hug you back, laughing. “Of course. Glad I could help solve the mystery.”

As you gaze at Wonho, you’re filled with elation. Wonho’s easy. Unproblematic. Kind. “Wanna go back and dance?”

“Your wish, my command,” he replies with a wink. As you stand from the couch, Wonho steals a last glance at his phone- and does a double take. “Yo, what?”

“Wassup?”

“Ah, nothing. Just some stupid gossip about, er, Yoongi’s new girlfriend.”

Something burns in your throat. “Anything interesting?”

“Nah. Some people are saying that ‘cause her dad’s a cop, Yoongi must’ve committed a crime and her dad is letting him off if he dates Seoyeon.” Wonho chuckles. “The things people invent when they’ve got too much time on their hands.”

“What do you mean, her dad is a cop?”

He shrugs. “Detective, I guess. Same difference, and somehow I doubt Yoongi’s a felon. So! Are we gonna go dance?”

Kang Seoyeon.

“Yeah,” you reply, suddenly breathless. “Let’s dance.”

~~~

“I love this song!” Seoyeon squeals, waving her arms in the air. Yoongi, sipping his sparkling water, is doing his best to ignore her, while Hoseok is amusing himself with Seoyeon’s antics.

Yoongi wishes he could relax and enjoy himself, but with Y/n’s would-be killer and most certainly Lisa’s kidnapper now throwing it back to HyunA, and with D having something for him, Yoongi can’t do anything but stare around tensely. Suddenly, he notices Y/n and Wonho rejoining everyone on the dance floor. They’re laughing shoulder-to-shoulder. He feels a bolt of jealousy strike him like lightning, so fierce that he can barely breathe.

“Suga bear!” Seoyeon shouts, slurring her words slightly. She’s already finished her drink and is halfway through another. “You love me, right?”

Fucking hell. “No,” Yoongi replies, his voice flat. Behind Seoyeon, Yoongi can see Hoseok slap a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Seoyeon’s eyes fill with tears. “B-but you have to love me! I worked so hard, Suga! I did it all for you! You have to love me!”

Worked so hard? She had stalked him, tried to kill Y/n, and kidnapped Lisa. “Did all what for me?” Yoongi snarls. “You little –”

Bzzt. Bzzt. D is calling him.

Yoongi stares from his phone to Seoyeon to Y/n and Wonho across the dance floor. Shit. “Hoseok, keep an eye on her, okay?”

Hoseok salutes dramatically. “Yessir!”

With that, Yoongi snakes away from the crowd, eventually finding a less populated corner that gives him a perfect view of Y/n and Wonho having a great time. Wait… is it his imagination, or does Y/n look-

“Gloss! Yo, my guy!”

Yoongi tapped his foot impatiently. “C’mon, what’ve you got?”

“Jeez, gimme a sec! Okay, so. Remember how that photo of you and Y/n was going around?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, so it came from, like, one of the red-haired chick’s backup accounts.”

“D, you fuckin’ told me this shit already, man.”

“I’m getting there! Stardom’s making you annoying, come back to Daegu.”

Yoongi snorts. “Keep talking.”

“So, you asked if Lisa had any side socials that weren’t under her name, right?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, I did a bit of digging – I charge extra for all the thirst tweets I had to look at, by the way – and I found that the fan account Seoyeon posted on has a very interesting username… one that corresponds pretty damn well to one her mutuals.” D took a deep breath. “Seoyeon’s account was called ‘@capkookies_btsbff’, and her mutual’s account is @captainkookie21. Remember how she kept talking about someone named Cap? Sooo I looked at that account, poking around, yknow? First thing: This was a total BTS fan account till, like, a few months ago. But after that? Gloss, this is some of the worst hate I’ve seen in a hot sec.”

“Whaddya mean, hate?”

“Hate towards your girl, bro! All sorts of bullshit, creepy stuff. Now, the IP address – which I took the liberty of finding, you’re welcome – tells me they’re in Seoul. The more interesting thing is that the address changed, and only a little over a month ago.”

“How can that change? I thought IPs were tied to devices.”

“They totally are! But socials aren’t. So this person was using one device, up until a month ago, and then switched.”

“They got a new phone?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they were trying to hide their location and were forced to use a new device.”

Yoongi’s forehead wrinkled. “Wha…”

He could hear D sigh over the phone. “Dude! Don’t you get it? Before they switched devices, this account was linked to Lisa’s phone!”

Yoongi’s jaw goes slack. That night at Seoyeon’s house… “Cap said you’d come to me. We’re meant to be.”

~~~

“W-Where’s Suuuu-ga?” Seoyeon whines, clutching at Hoseok’s arm. She finished the rest of her glass and is now clearly well on her way to drunk.

“He’ll be back soon,” Hoseok replies, trying to blend his movement in with the heavy bass so that he and Seoyeon don’t stand out too much.

“All I did was love him,” Seoyeon says now, her eyes wide and doe-like.

Hoseok makes a face. “You stalked him.”

Shaking her head vehemently, Seoyeon takes another pull of her drink. “Nuh-uh. I never did.”

Hoseok purses his lips. She’s clearly willing to let slip information, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. “You followed him to that hospital, and that lamppost. That’s called stalking.”

“Nooooooo I di-hic-didn’t,” Seoyeon warbles, swaying. Hoseok catches her and props her up, brows knit. Is she okay? Of course, Hoseok was the last to claim a title for holding one’s liquor, but Seoyeon seems insistent on getting wasted.

“I was just –” Seoyeon hiccups and giggles to herself. “Captain’s orders!”

“Orders?”

“Oops!” Seoyeon claps a hand over her mouth, stumbling backwards and bumping into an actress Heoseok recognizes from his favorite drama. “Nothingggg.”

This could be interesting. Hoseok plucks the glass from her hand, holding it away as she reaches for it. “Ah-ah-ah. I’ll give it back once you tell me what you meant.”

Seoyeon laughs, the sound going from a cute drunk giggle to something more intense, more concerning. “C-caaan’t~ Cap said I had to keep quiet.”

“Just tell me why you said you weren’t stalking Yoongi. You were following him, right? How else could you have found him at the hospital? And that lamppost?”

Seyeon sticks her tongue out. “Not telling!”

Is this really the same girl who shoved Y/n into a river and kidnapped Lisa under everyone’s noses?

Hoseok pauses and thinks. “Yoongi hasn’t kissed you, has he?”

Almost immediately, Seoyeon’s eyes well up with tears once more. “No! He never even touches me!”

“You know, I bet if you told me everything, he’d be really grateful.” Hoseok leans forward conspiratorially, barely able to hear himself over the music and shouts on the dance floor. “I’m sure he’d love you then.”

Seoyeon lets out a squeal that sounds practically inhuman. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Hoseok swallows down his guilt with the reassurance that he’s doing this for Y/n and Yoongi’s sakes. “So what were you doing at the hospital?”

Seoyeon stops and thinks hard, her face serious for the first time all night. “You really think he’ll love me? He won’t be mad?”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, Seoyeon shoots forward and snatches her glass away from Hoseok, downing the rest of the drink before he can blink. “I just wanted to be with him,” she says, wiping a droplet from her lips. “But I wasn’t following him. Cap said that she was at the hospital.” Seoyeon’s eyes turn dark, furious, the change so severe that Hoseok flinches. “Cap said she wanted to take Suga away from me. So I waited outside the hospital with my friends. Suga doesn’t belong to her!” Placing her glass on a nearby table, Seoyeon tugs at Hoseok’s sleeve desperately. “He belongs to me! To us, to ARMYs!”

Goosebumps erupt along Hoseok’s arms. Fans like this have always terrified him. To claim ownership of a person just because they were an idol… “And the lamppost? You didn’t follow Y/n, did you?”

Seoyeon blinks heavily. “I didn’t seeeee her after she fell into the river. Cap just told me where to go, and when I saw them hugging, I wanted to kill Y/n.” She smiles sweetly as though her words were nothing but innocent.

Hoseok can feel his stomach roil. “Why did you do all this?”

“Duh!” Seoyeon sweeps her arm around, gesturing at the club. “Cap’s friends with BTS! I was promised that Cap could set me up with Suga. And – hic – it worked.”

“We’re not friends. What?” Is this person someone the group knows? But Hoseok can’t think of many people the members of Bangtan are all friends with, except Y/n. No, surely…? She wouldn’t do that to herself.

It’s getting her a lot of publicity, a tiny voice in Hoseok’s head reminds him.

“W-What do you mean?” Seoyeon asks, a pout forming on her lips. “‘Course you are. After all, she has a video of Jimin saying her name.”

Hoseok’s heart is hammering in his chest. Y/n does love to tease Jimin. “At a fansign?” It would make sense, at least.

“Noooo~” Seoyeon says in a slurred singsong voice. “In your apartment.” She giggles, covering her mouth. “I recognized it from your lives!”

Hoseok’s own mouth goes dry. Had Y/n been manipulating his friend this whole time? “Oh.”

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glenncoco4 · 3 years

Text

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 3 Inspired by 1x23 (Burned)

••••

She needs to get out tonight. Away from the swirling turmoil that’s going on inside her head right now. It’s been two weeks since they lost Dom, two weeks since she found herself standing at the sink in his dark apartment washing dishes. She finds herself thinking about how great of an agent he would’ve made had he been given the chance to grow. She also finds herself yearning for the touch and comfort of her best friend, who she now realizes is the love of her life, and it took loosing Dom to finally admit it to herself.

Something shifted the last time they were together, she’s not quite sure what it is or why after 18 years of knowing him its showing up now but her feelings for him have intensified. The problem is is that she’s not sure how he would react if she came out right and told him that she in fact was in love with him. Would he run? Would he politely reject her? Would their friendship remain intact? But there’s also a chance that he doesn’t turn her down, that he tells her he feels the same way and they live happily ever after. That’s the hope she’s holding onto.

She knows its not healthy to just stay inside and worry about her swarming thoughts while she waits for him to come back. It’s Monday night, she deserves to let loose a little and she knows exactly what she’s going to do.

••••

The music is pounding which mirrors the pounding in his head. Seriously how does he always end up with marks that spend all their time in clubs surrounded by drugs and women. He looks over at the other side of their reserved VIP area where Emilio and Luis are both tongue deep in some of their admirer’s mouths.

Rubbing his forehead to try and help coax his headache away, he suddenly feels the air shift. His cerulean blues scan the room in search and eventually land on her.

Luis pulls back from the leggy blonde in his lap and notices the lawyer’s fixation on something across the club floor, looking in the same direction, he spots her, a knowing smile crosses his face. “Hey, Milio, looks like our boy spotted some eye candy.”

Sliding the brunette’s legs off his lap, Emilio stands up and makes his way over to the lawyer. He takes a seat next to the blonde, smiling. “Oh, papi, she’s quite the looker. You gonna let her slip away?”

“No, I don’t think I am.” He takes a sip of bourbon to calm his nerves. Standing up, Dale straightens out his sports coat before taking a few steps down to the dance floor. He turns back to look at his boss with a devilish grin on his face. “If you don’t hear from me the rest of the night it’s because I’m riding a little wild surf.”

An approving smile crosse the crime boss’ face. “That’s my boy.”

Maneuvering his way across the dance floor towards the bar, he slowly feels his Dale John Sully persona slip away and Marty Deeks start to break through. The first thing he notices as he walks up to her is how fantastic the skin tight mini she’s wearing accentuates her firm derrière.

Her attention is on the bartender giving him ample opportunity to slide up behind her, his breath warm against her ear. “Hey there. Noticed your boots. Takes a girl with a unique style to pull that off.”

An unfamiliar but welcomed chill runs through her body when she hears his voice. She’s finally able to relax for the first time in 2 weeks. “Well it takes a special kind of guy to sit through 2 hours of Donnie & Marie.”

“Oh, touché.”

She turns, unable to stop the smile from spreading to her face. His cerulean blues have a dark hue to them, a blueish grey that she’s never been on the receiving end of. Before she can think any more of it, her brow furrows in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

He tilts his head back towards the VIP section that he just came from just as a loud cheer from the booth erupts when Luis pops another bottle of champagne. “The boss just negotiated a deal with a major player in our case.”

“Is it okay for you to be talking to me?”

“Yeah, told him I was gonna go ride a little wild surf.” His lip curls into a smirk as he watches Kensi’s eyes go wide. “Dance with me.”

She knows they should both be more cautious, especially since he’s in the middle of a major undercover op right now but as he offers her his hand, she can’t help her actions as she places her hand in his.

He leads her out to the dance floor, quickly wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers. Before he knows it his forehead meets hers, their eyes locked on to one another. They’ve danced before of course, but nothing like this, no this is so far from what they’ve ever done.

As everything around them fades away, the pair is suddenly brought to the realization of what it means to be at peace.

Their positions soon shift as Kensi burrows her head into the crook of his neck, her hands going around his waist as she clings to him. It’s when he hears her inhale and feels her body sink into his hold that he knows what those little glances and feelings they were exchanging last time they saw each other were. Love. And not just any kind of love, passionate irrevocably head over heals love. “I heard about Dom. I’m so sorry, Kens.”

She does her best to hold back her tears, but not before a few escape, landing on the cotton of his button up. “I should’ve watched out for him more. I screwed up.”

He should’ve seen this coming, if there’s one thing his best friend does best it’s beat herself up for things she has no control over. Pulling back from their embrace, his hands find either side of her face as he cradles her head. His eyes trying to convey everything that words can’t. “No, you didn’t. Kens, this is not your fault.”

“How could you say that? He was my partner and I let him down.”

“Remember what you told me my first night at your house?”

“I said, ‘you can count on me.’”

“Right, and I told you the same. So believe me when I say that there was nothing you could’ve done to stop what happened to Dom from happening.”

She shakes her head in acceptance, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “I wish we could hang out tonight.”

“Maybe we can.”

“How? You’re undercover.”

His mind begins to form a plan, knowing that Emilio and Luis are probably watching them, Deeks doesn’t hesitate as he slowly moves in towards her. “Just follow my lead.”

Her brow furrows in confusion and quickly morphs to shock as his lips find hers. She’s stunned at first but once she realizes what’s happening, her body responds.

He just intended for the kiss to last long enough for them to sell a cover, but the warmth and caress of her soft lips have him swiping his tongue across them, begging for entrance.

As their kisses grow more heated and their tongues continue to duel, the brunette moans as her best friend runs his fingers through her hair. Those equal fervor kisses soon leading to wandering hands with the new revelation of their relationship.

••••

He quickly finds the zipper of her dress ridding her of the scrap of clothing and presses her against the hotel room wall. His lips working along her jaw down to her neck. She presses her hips into his, making the tent in his pants beg to be freed. Her fingers grasp onto his golden locks as his touch fills her with more pleasure than she thought was ever possible.

She’s on the cusp of release, feeling that he’s going too slow, her hands find the button of his slacks and works to free him from the restricting fabric.

Realization suddenly hits him that this is officially headed to a place that they could never come back from. Pulling back from his ministrations, his dark blue eyes lock on with her magnetic chocolate orbs. God how he loves those eyes. “What are we doing?”

“I think it’s pretty clear what we’re doing.” She states mater of fact, her lips finding the sweet spot on his neck, loving the way his body reacts to her touch.

“No, Kens, what-“

She pulls back from her ministrations, abruptly cutting him off. “I don’t know how to do this.”

His brow furrows in perplexity, unsure of the meaning behind her words. “Do what?”

Taking a deep breath, she understands that this is the moment. Either he runs or he stays. “Pretend that every time I see you, I don’t want to wrap my arms around you and never let go. I don’t know how to go on when every time you go under my heart goes with you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want you.” Her eyes now shining with a blissful openness.

His mouth turns up into a slow smile, a sudden onset of disbelief filling his mind. What does he say to her? I love you? That could be too much too soon. Well they have been friends for 18 years, and know everything they need to know about the other. Maybe they should get married. No, that’d definitely be too much. Turns out he doesn’t have to respond because her lips are on his once again and her hands find their way into his boxers before he’s pulling her towards the bed where he’s able to show her what he feels when his words failed to.

••••

There’s a irritating buzzing sound right in his ear, pulling him out of his deep and restful sleep. His brow furrows at the unfamiliar room around him along with the bed he’s in...the warm naked body of his best friend curled around his. It feels like a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one.

He loves her, that he can’t deny. But they’re in some gross hotel and he’s undercover, this wasn’t supposed to go this way. When he wasn’t around Emilio and his crew and back at the confines of his own shitty undercover apartment, his mind would wander to what could be with his best friend. Something in the last few months shifted in their relationship, it wasn’t anything he could define at the moment, but last night made him realize what that aching in his chest was. It was his love for her, his person, the most important thing in his world. He’d find himself thinking about their lives and how intertwined they were.

His phone buzzes once again, pulling him back to the present. When he reads the text, a defeated sigh falls from his lips. Placing a kiss to the top of her head, he slowly maneuvers himself from her grasp, trying best not to disturb her.

He quickly gets dressed, writes a note for her and places on his pillow. Just because he can’t help himself, he places a kiss to her bare shoulder, earning a happy moan from his love...well the woman he loves anyway. He stands back up, taking a few more seconds to look at her, relishing in their activities a few hours ago and it gives him the energy he needs to get this op over with and get back to her.

Walking towards the door, he gives her one last glance before whispering. “I want you, too.”

••••

She startles awake at the sound of a car alarm blaring through the walls. Quickly examining the room around her, flashes of last night as his lips placed kisses over every inch of her and their naked bodies sliding against one another in a passionate state of ecstasy sends a warm feeling to her lower belly.

Speaking of her best friend, she looks around the room trying to gage where he may be until something on the pillow next to her catches her eye and that’s when it hit her...she screwed up.

KayKay,

Had to get back. Turns out you’re not the only one that missed this beautiful Viking mane.

- Your Person

P.S. Remember what I said, partner.

She face plants into “his” pillow internally chastising herself. What did she get herself into?

••••

Stepping into the bullpen, Kensi begrudgingly sits her bag on her desk gaining the attention of her co-worker.

Sam doesn’t know if he should ask but considering her best friend is out of commission he knows whatever’s eating at her needs a sounding board. “What’s up Kens?”

Her irritated facade thankfully works, and she quickly spins around, a hint of anger swirling in her mismatched eyes. “Do guys ever think about what comes out of their mouths before they try to hit on a woman?”

“Uh-oh, what happened?”

“So, last night, I’m having a drink at the place Macy took me after my first shootout. Just wanted some alone time. But this guy walks over...attractive, well-dressed, bonus points for taking the lead. You know the drill all too well. Guess what he used as his opener.”

“Hi. My name is Mr. I have no idea what I’m in for. Can I buy you a drink?”

“See? Now, there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with that. But that’s not what he said. ‘Hey there. Noticed your boots. Takes a girl with a unique style to pull that off.’”

“He was running game.”

Shaking her head in annoyance, she takes a seat at her desk. “Yeah, well if I ever see him again, he’s gonna be running for a whole different reason.”

#Densi #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #AU #Densi Fanfic #Kensi x Deeks #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic #You Can Count On Me

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pandastern · 2 years

Text

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 15: Mixed Signals

If youd like to be tagged to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist II AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2019

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

“You do realize you’re dragging me in the wrong direction, you big, explosive oaf?”

Bakugou froze in his tracks and ground his teeth together. “Maybe you should point me in the right fucking direction, then.”

“Well, maybe you should stop dragging me around like some oversized toddler,” Artemis hissed back.

Bakugou glared down at her. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have to drag you around if you were capable of taking care of yourself, you sorry excuse for a squirt gun!”

“It’s none of your bloody business, now, is it, grease face?”

He blinked. “Grease face?”

Artemis grimaced and pulled her wrist free of his hand. “With the amount of hair gel you’re wearing, that’s the best I can do for you. Now, leave me alone and do some weird… blue jeans hero stuff.”

A soft snort escaped her, and even though she was still giving him the stink eye, she couldn't hide the small smile that tugged on her lips. Clearly, he knew she was mocking him.

“Haha, very fucking funny.” Bakugou groaned. “Trust me, I have better things to do than babysit-”

“Then, by all means… Wait, what's your hero name again?” Artemis cut in, her sickly sweet tone dripping with venom. “Never mind, doesn't matter. Please, by all means, be on your way!”

When she reached for her shopping bag, Bakugou took a step back and held it above her head. “I can't. I'm not failing my internship just because you’re acting like a little piss baby!”

“You think I'm gonna snitch on you?!”

“No! I think you’re stupid and can’t get yourself home on your own! With your luck, you'll pass out somewhere and Jeanist is gonna think I couldn’t be arsed to help you!”

“Can you be arsed?” Artemis asked with a quirked brow.

“Of course not!”

“Then let me g-”

“Artemis, I swear to God I will blow your ass up if you don't tell me where to go!”

Artemis narrowed her eyes and scowled at him, wondering if she’d be able to get away with punching him in the face. Then her shoulders sagged and she exhaled sharply.

“That way,” she mumbled, pointing at an alley.

“Atta girl.”

The pair of them walked together in silence for the next couple of blocks. Not really knowing whether he should start a conversation or not, Bakugou tried his best to keep his eyes to the front. Any exchange of words would end up with them fighting again, and he really couldn't risk blowing her to bits considering Jeanist had threatened to fail him.

However, he did notice though that Artemis kept glancing at him every now and then.

“What?” he growled.

“Nothing, just… I mean, those jeans really are a statement, huh? How many people had to restrain you for Jeanist to be able to put you in these?”

From the outside, she seemed to be asking out of genuine curiosity, but Bakugou could hear the undertone of mockery underneath. It was infuriating how easily she could needle him.

“God, I hate you.”

Artemis laughed sharply. “You're a bad liar.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “Oh, am I? You must know. You're an expert in dishonesty!”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Artemis retorted in a tone that told him he’d struck a sore spot.

“It means I've never seen you say a single sentence that was honest. Not once in my life have I met a single person who's been as deceptive and manipulative as you.” Bakugou snorted. “You're not even slick about it. You always get this weird glint in your eyes and I…”

He turned towards Artemis in exasperation and groaned. “That! That’s exactly the look I'm talking about. You're doing it right now!”

She stopped walking and looked at him as if seeing him for the very first time. Bakugou would’ve given his most prized possession to get a glimpse into what Artemis was thinking at the moment. Did she see him as a threat? He’d seen her do that before, sizing up people she interacted with before making a move.

Suddenly, her face changed. It was like a mask had been pulled over her eyes.

“I don't know what youre talking about,” she said, shaking her head as she walked past him.

“Yeah, right,” Bakugou muttered. Something told him he’d hit the nail on the head, so much so that he’d come dangerously close to something Artemis wanted to keep hidden.

Artemis led him through a small neighborhood to a very humble apartment complex. She stopped in front of the door and held out her hand for the groceries, but Bakugou held them stubbornly and followed her inside.

“You don't have to mother me, for crying out loud. I am more than capable of making it into my own flat,” she complained, but Bakugou followed her anyway.

Artemis tried to get rid of him again in front of her apartment door, but at this point, he was too curious not to go inside with her. Maybe her place would offer him some sort of insight into what kind of person she really was. After all, a living space always had some sort of resonance with its tenant, didn’t it?

Artemis’s apartment, on the other hand, wasn’t even close to what he’d expected. It was pretty much empty. No Decor, no pictures on the walls, not even plants or books. Nothing that could have made the space personal. It was like a poorly furnished room in a cheap hotel.

In fact, the only notable piece of furniture, aside from the couch and TV, was a small, low table in the centre of the room. Its surface was littered with several empty cans of energy drinks and days-old cup noodles, if the stale smell was anything to go by.

Artemis pushed past him, kicked off her shoes and flopped down onto the couch with a deep groan that quickly turned into a pained whine.

“Stop hurting yourself, dumbass,” Bakugou huffed before walking into the kitchen nook and setting down the bag.

“Fuck off,” Artemis snapped.

Bakugou took the opportunity to look around. He noticed a hint of smoke in the air, whose source he traced back to an ashtray on the small balcony outside. Who was she having over that was smoking? Her parents, maybe? A boyfriend?

Bakugou shook his head. It couldn’t be the last one. Who in their right mind would date someone like her?

“Your apartment is the saddest thing I've ever seen,” he concluded at last. “It’s completely empty, but you’ve still managed to make a mess of it. I’m actually impressed. How are your parents letting you live like this?”

Artemis didn’t respond.

That was odd, Bakugou thought. She almost always had some kind of witty response ready for him. He sighed and found Artemis still lying on the couch, a pillow covering her face.

“Oi! Didn't you hear me?”

“I did,” she muttered.

“So?”

Artemis dropped the pillow and sat up slowly.

“I have everything I need here,” she said without meeting his eyes. “Besides, it doesn't matter to you.”

Now that Bakugou thought about it, this apartment seemed way too small for more than one person. It wasn't uncommon to have students from overseas at UA. Bakugou knew for a fact that Class B had one from America, though such students always got a place in guest families or specific student homes.

Since Artemis didn't appear in the mood to elaborate, Bakugou shook his head and started picking up the trash and empty cup noodle boxes from the table before moving back towards the kitchen in search of a garbage can.

Not that he was doing it to help her. Of course not. The mess was just making his skin crawl. Despite his explosive temper (and yes, he was aware of the irony of that statement), he liked it when things were clean and neat. His mother would never have let him live in a dump like this. She’d have whooped his arse to the moon and back.

He started his search by opening every cabinet and drawer in the pathetically small (and suspiciously unused-looking) kitchen nook, but there was no garbage can in sight. Something soon struck him as rather odd, so he placed the garbage onto the counter and took a more thorough look. A dark realisation dawned on him.

Deciding to remain calm for now, Bakugou turned towards the fridge. The energy cans inside made a soft jangling sound when he pulled the door open and his suspicions were confirmed.

“Artemis?”

He heard the sound of bare feet hitting the floorboards behind him.

“What the hell are you snooping through my kitchen for?” Artemis snapped. She stepped forward to push him away from the fridge, but Bakugou wasn't moving an inch.

He turned towards her and asked, in a dangerously low tone, “Artemis, how the fuck do you feed yourself?”

She blinked. “What? With food, dumbass! What are you on abou-”

“You have no food. Or pans. Or pots. No dishes or cutlery. So, I’ll ask again. How the fuck do you feed yourself?”

When she just stared at him, he growled in frustration and pointed at the cupboards. “Empty. All of them. There is not a single edible substance in your bloody kitchen.”

“Of course there is. I just bought some,” Artemis huffed.

“If I open that grocery bag, will there be anything in there that is not a caffeinated drink that is gonna end up giving you a heart attack or instant noodles that are going to clog your arteries?”

Bakugou had to admit to himself, he was being uncharacteristically calm, even though his blood was boiling. No wonder she wasn’t getting better. No wonder she had dark circles under her eyes that would put every goddamn panda in China to shame. He had nightmares about her dying in his arms and Artemis wasn’t even trying to get better. It was infuriating.

Artemis opened her mouth and closed it again. Her cheeks turned pink, though whether it was out of anger or embarrassment, Bakugou couldn't tell.

“It’s food, isn’t it? Food is food! Why are you hounding me like some sort of helicopter mother? What I eat is none of your business. You don't even like me, so stop parenting me and go home!”

“Apparently, someone has to parent you. I can't believe you live like this. How are your parents letting you live like this? Someone ought to tell them you’re killing yourself with processed food-”

Artemis scoffed. The sound was hard and humorless, almost bitter. “What are you gonna do? Call them up and tell them? Please, good luck with that.”

That made him stop. “Do they know?”

Artemis shrugged and turned her back towards him, fiddling with the abandoned grocery bag on the counter. “I suppose.”

She was lying. Bakugou could tell. The question was why. “Artemis… are you all by yourself here?”

She ignored him and kept fiddling with the bag, taking out each item one at a time.

“I don't need anyone. I'm fine by myself,” she finally said. “Besides, I haven't seen my family in a while. Boarding school and stuff.”

Bakugou could tell there was more to it. So much more. The weight of it was so heavy on her shoulders he could almost see it crushing her.

He let out a sigh and closed the fridge door. Disregarding the fact that this ‘arrangement’ couldn't possibly be legal, it would explain a few things about her. “If you're so fine by yourself, why don't you even have a single pot for cooking?”

Another heavy silence. “I can’t cook.”

Bakugou stared at her in disbelief. At this point, he really should have just left. He really should have just grabbed his things and gone home. What did he care if Artemis lived like a slob? Not his business.

But he couldn't. And for some unknown reason, Bakugou grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her towards the door.

“Hey, where are you taking me?” Artemis yelped.

“Proper grocery shopping. Now stop yapping and get a move on.”

Tagg list:

@sammyluvzz @chicledechoclo

#Bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou x reader #bakugou x oc

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my-imagines-moonlight53 · 4 years

Text

Red Tallies || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This AU is based on an idea from an old prompt in which people have tally marks to represent how many times they have fallen in love. Peter has fallen in love a couple times, but never been loved back. Peter is college age, would say around 21-23, and so is reader and company.

Author’s Note: This has honestly been something that I’ve been wanting to write for a while, and finally found the time to sit down and write it. Though still testing the waters, so please let me know. Would most likely try to be a slow burn, like definitely be more than four parts.

Word Count: 2K

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“Ned, I told you, she isn’t in love with me,” Peter repeated for the eighth time in this same phone conversation, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less.

“Are you sure? I mean it could just take a while for hers to show up soon?”

“Ned, I really don’t want to say this but she did have a red mark, but it wasn’t for me,” he finally caved and explained the one fact he has kept thus far, “I didn’t think she would pull something like this, that’s why she can’t love me…because she loves someone else,” he sighed almost feeling the tally mark was burning his skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry dude,” he said after a long pause.

“I know but it’s not something you should apologize for,” he sighed, trying not to remember the events that occurred that morning.

“You can always come with me and Betty to the movies tonight, we can invite a few more people so you don’t feel like third wheel,” wanting to switch topics to hopefully cheer his friend up.

Peter knew that his friend was really trying to help but he really couldn’t think of leaving his apartment. He really needed to process the whole situation rather than distract himself from it, because he knew when he was alone, he would feel this low again. He looked down at his wrist seeing nothing but black tallies on his wrist, and let out a long sigh.

“Pete, you still there?” pulling him out from his thoughts.

“Yea just thinking about the offer,” even though he already knew that he had the answer.

“How about you think about it and let me know. I don’t want you to feel pressured,” always the supportive friend. “I would cancel on Betty but…“

“Thanks Ned, don’t think Betty deserves that,” smiling knowing that Ned will always be his ride or die. “Think I’m a sit this one out,” his eyes still focused on his wrist.

“Offer will stands till seven, but if not, I’ll stop by tomorrow with food and can talk about it,” wanting Peter to know that he’ll be there through thick and thin.

“Yea tomorrow would be nice, I’ll text you if anything happens,” affirming that he wasn’t going out tonight, “have a great date Ned.”

“Thanks Pete. Hope to see you soon then,” he said.

Both said their goodbyes, leaving Peter to let out a long groan of frustration. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes hoping to keep the tears in that he kept in the whole day. Another black tally mark etched on his skin, great another failed attempted at love.

It was at times like these that wished he never learned about the tally marks, but it’s something unavoidable. He remembers days in which his Aunt May would sit down and talk to him about the tally marks that would one day appear across his wrist and tried to do her best to explain it.

“Alright Peter, so one when you find someone you really love, you’ll one day see a black tally appear right here,” pointing out her own single red tally on her wrist.

“But yours is red,” child Peter pointing out the obvious.

“I know, but if the person you love, loves you back, then it will turn red. Just like mine, yours can start off black, only depending who falls for who first. I can tell you first hand that mine showed up a month before your Aunt May’s did,” puling Peter’s attention from his aunt to his see his uncle setting down his stuff. Ben walked over to the two ruffling Peter’s hair to distract him from giving May a quick kiss.

“Hey it’s not my fault that you fell in love sooner than I did,” she joked.

“Uh, yea it is, you didn’t make it easy for me,” he smiled, “So what is this tally mark talk about?”

“Just curious,” Peter responded, “besides our teacher was going to go over it soon and wanted a head start.”

Peter smiled his tears gaining a bittersweet taste to them but figured that he may as well let out any tears at this moment. He looked at his wrist, nothing but black tallies and he would be lying to himself if he said that it didn’t hurt him. He really didn’t get the idea of what was so difficult about loving him, but then again, it’s not like he can force someone to love him. But still he just felt like a below the belt when he saw his now ex-girlfriend, if she even considered herself that, sport a red tally that clearly wasn’t his. Peter let out a loud sigh, thinking it was just to just scour his social media and start to unfollow her but couldn’t force himself to delete old pictures of themselves.

Just a few moments later and Peter heard a large crash outside his door. Peter quickly got up and walked over to the door hearing already someone cussing from the other end.

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You didn’t know whether to be mad at the carpet lining the floor or yourself for thinking it was a good idea to carry more than you actually could because you really took a dive just now. You were glad that the boxes you decided to carry were filled with things that wouldn’t break, but you couldn’t help the burn on your cheeks from embarrassment and hope that no one saw your fall.

You started to stack a few things to try to somewhat organize things, and decided now was a good time as any to open your door. You decided to take a few things with you hoping to prevent anyone from seeing your mishap. By the time you went back to your stuff, someone was already organizing your fallen mess.

“Hey, sorry about the mess in front of your door, just give me a couple minutes and it’ll be totally clear,” walking over to said mess.

“it’s no worry at all,” seeing the stranger get up and face you.

Your heart jumped to your chest seeing the face that although you have forgotten about over time, you could never truly forget. “Peter?” knowing full well that there was no doubt about it.

“uh do I know you?” his face really confused because he really couldn’t place your face to a name.

“It’s been a while, but remember me from middle school,” trying not to act like you weren’t even more embarrassed then just a moment before.

You could visually see his mind thinking back to middle school, and finally put the pieces together, “(Y/N)! Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t remember, trust me have a few things on my mind,” and although you haven’t seen peter in years, you figured he still was the same bashful boy you hadn’t seen in years.

“no worries, I mean what are the odds, that your old middle school friend moves down the hall much less spill most of her stuff in front of your door,” trying not to make anything more uncomfortable.

“yea guess so,” already sensing things slowly ease, “So you took over the empty loft, I think I heard about someone filling that room,” quickly picking up a few boxes, “ how about I help you out.”

Judging by him carrying boxes you knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, “sure guess we can catch up, plus definitely need the extra set of hands,” you said.

You didn’t know what it was about Peter but he really had a way to become instant friends with just about anyone that he met. You really were glad that he still was the same as the Peter you left behind at the end of middle school. It was almost easy being with Peter that it almost made it seem like you guys hadn’t seen each other in years but can already tell that moving in here was a great choice. You found out that he was still friends with Ned and kept in touch with Michelle, which he was already mentioning that he couldn’t wait to tell the others. you really were glad that he already wanted to plan things out with you.

You would be lying to yourself if you couldn’t deny that although you could recognize Peter, he really had matured into someone very attractive, especially by your standards. The once round cheeks chiseled out into strong edges, small chucky arms and hands became defined and strong by the easiness that he carried large boxes. however, some traits didn’t change at all, his doe brown eyes still had the same glee and his smile still captured the room, at least it did in your opinion. But now with this stance and physique, he really could capture the room.

“So, you moving in all by yourself?” Peter asked bringing in heavier objects. You

“ Yea, just me though if its gets too pricey may ask one of my friends to move in with me,” you replied already seeing that more than half of your stuff was already moved in thanks to Peter’s help, “pretty sure she will like the space as well.”

You looked over at Peter seeing that he was staring at his phone, his default cheery attitude replaced by a saddened look.

“Peter, you alright buddy?”.

“Uh yea, just some,” not knowing the right words to say, or better yet not know the right words that didn’t make him want to cry again.

“Girl trouble,” you finished, doubting someone like him couldn’t be with anyone or have someone he’s interest in.

“Um, something like that,” figured that he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“You don’t have to talk about it, I mean we technically just met,” not wanting to push his limits, because you figured that he would tell you just to be nice.

“It’s not that, I just don’t want one of our few first conversations to be about how my girlfriend got a red tally,” the words sounding so sour, “my bad I think I don’t think she was my girlfriend to begin with.”

“Red tally, then isn’t that a good thing?” not really understanding the problem.

“Yeah her and whoever she’s interested in, but definitely not for me,” lifting the side of his wrist and showing his black tallies., “just figured she’d be the first you know,” he said melancholy as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey her loss and their loss too, because I can already tell you that you have already been one of my better random male encounters in a while,” trying to cheer him up, though you figured you were failing at it.

Peter let out a small chuckle, “very funny but think I’m going to head out. Ned's meeting me tomorrow for food, you’re more than welcomed to come,” he said trying to switch to lighter topics, “I’ll knock, see if you’re free ok”

“yea, sounds like a plan and really thanks for the help couldn’t do it without you.”

Peter said a small goodbye and walked out leaving you to finally press your hand against your chest. Your heart was racing, you knew that of course spending time with someone attractive like Peter was going to make you react but it was more. You knew that although you were glad to have met up with peter, but you weren’t sure if it was such a good idea in the long run. You finally decided to look down on your wrist, your eyes locking on your first tally mark. Your fingers traced over the black tally, knowing full well that the person who this tally represents is none other than your new neighbor, Peter Parker.

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End Author’s Note: So that was part 1, please let me know how it is. Still in debate if i should include peter being Spiderman, that is the other main opinion I would want, since I am really on the fence. Once again this is planned out to be a somewhat slowburn.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter x reader #peter parker imagines #spiderman x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #marvel fanficiton

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petes-peonies · 4 years

Text

Tallies (1) || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: This AU is based on an idea from an old prompt in which people have tally marks to represent how many times they have fallen in love.

Peter has fallen in love a couple times, but never been loved back, and thats where you come in. Peter is in college, would say around 21-23, and so is reader and company.