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#i have homework due tonight but i THINK i can write for a few hours. before working on the homework. maybe.
orcelito · 2 years
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oh but i am so excited for the change in narrative of discacc bc aside from the initial stuff with goro getting into the metaverse, there really wasnt That much action to capture, bc most of the action was like. ykno. stuff that already happens in the game. i wasnt gonna have repeats of things that werent significantly different
BUT NOW.............. omfg omfg omfg ive been thinking about the thing this chapter sooo much (which is good considering im at the cusp of writing it) and just. it’s so goddamn FUN. i love writing action!!!!!! fight scenes r so fun!!!!!! and like no i dont have any kind of formal training with fighting BUT neither do my characters. & by working within the bounds of a video game, i have a general set of guidelines to follow, BUT ALSO of course i wont follow them 100%. no one wants to read a fight scene that just perfectly follows the bounds of turn-based gaming, complete with definite restrictions on skills and sp and whatever the fuck. like. the skills are whatever i need them to be. the sp is whatever i need them to be. i can give them whatever items i need them to have for the narrative. that is my freedom as a writer
AND SO. im having some fun stuff. sorry phantom thieves ur having a rough day today
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stylesloveclub · 1 year
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Pleasing (stressed blurb)
In which y/n is really stressed with school, and Harry just wants to take care of her. 
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Y/n has a lot of work to do today.
She still hasn’t finished her reading for her sociology class, nor has she finished writing that lab report that’s due next week. There’s a physics midterm coming up soon that she hasn’t studied for yet at all, and she reminds herself to finish that practice test her prof posted during their lecture today.
If she’s lucky, she’ll have some time to work on her lab report tonight, and then she can do the sociology reading before she falls asleep… or maybe she should do the sociology reading first, just in case they have a quiz on it in lecture tomorrow. Oh gosh, and she can’t forget that she has a shift at the restaurant tomorrow night too…
“Baby?” She snaps out of her thoughts. Harry stands at the food of the bed, his condom wrapped cock bobbing up and down in the air. She suddenly remembers that she’s naked, in his bed, waiting for him to grab a condom so that they could fuck. “Y’with me?” he asks.
“Yeah, sorry.” She’s been fading in and out on him all night, so stressed and caught up in her school work that she could barely focus on the time they were spending with each other. He’d just spent 30 minutes eating her out to no avail, sucking and licking her clit with the kind of fervor that would usually have her writhing on the bed and cumming in less than 10 minutes. 
But tonight… she’s just distracted. So when his jaw was too sore to keep going and she still hadn’t cum, he got up to get a condom on so that maybe he could fuck an orgasm out of her.
He shakes his head, climbing into the bed next to her. “Don’t wanna do this if you’re not in the mood,” he whispers, kissing her cheek softly. 
“No, I do…” she whimpers, looking up at him with big eyes. “Was just thinking about school, m’sorry.” 
“You’ve been working so hard baby, you need to relax.” His nose nudges her cheek softly, his soft breathing tickling her skin. “Need to stop worrying or else you’ll burn yourself out.” 
“I know, you’re right,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m already so tired and I’m not even halfway through the semester.” 
“That’s why you need a break,” he murmurs. “Can’t do all this studying if you’re running on four hours of sleep…”
She pouts up at him as his large hands skim over her stomach. “But I haven’t finished–”
“Hey,” he shushes her. “You haven’t got any exams tomorrow, right? No huge assignment due?” She shakes her head no. “Then stop worrying. You’ve got all weekend to catch up on your homework, just relax with me right now.” 
Finally, he feels her relax into the bed, her tense shoulders falling and her eyes delicately fluttering shut. “Okay,” she whispers, “okay, yeah. I can finish it tomorrow.” 
“Good girl,” he hums, lips skimming her throat. His warm palms raise goosebumps on her skin as he brushes over her hips, rearranging himself so that he’s on top of her. “Gonna let daddy take care of you now?”
She nods as he presses soft, wet kisses down her shoulders. 
“Gonna relax and let me make you feel good?” he murmurs with his soft drawl, kissing down her tummy and over her hips. 
She shuffles around in his expensive sheets, letting herself sink into his luxury memory foam mattress. “Please.”
His finger teases at her slit, testing if she’s ready for him. Her entire body shivers at the contact, hips twitching when his cool finger slips into her warm, wet center. She clenches down around him, and lets herself forget about all her assignments and exams. All she needs to focus on now is Harry… let him take care of her the way she’s been craving. 
It’s not easy, being a college girl. She’s been running herself thin for the past few weeks, barely giving herself a break. Her days are spent cooped up in the library, studying and doing stupid physics problems, and her nights are spent at the restaurant, trying to make enough money to pay for her rent. Whenever she can spare time, she goes home with Harry so that they could have their romantic, quality time… but it’s midterm season, and she hasn’t been able to see him that much recently. 
She always feels guilty, going over to his penthouse after one of her shifts, when she could be at home finishing up her lab reports. Or, whenever she sleeps over and spends an extra thirty minutes cuddling in bed with him, she can’t help the voice in her head that nags her to get up and get to school extra early so that she can do some physics homework in the library before her lecture. Her classes are hard this semester, and she’s really been struggling to keep herself afloat, especially with all the time she has to spend working in order to pay her bills. 
So, she’s been isolating herself from him. Telling him that she can’t go over that night because she needs to study (he always insists that she let him drive her home, though), and refusing when he offers to come over and cook for her. She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to take care of herself! She refuses to let herself depend on a MAN. 
But… it’s a lot. At the end of the day, she’s just a girl. She’s tired and burnt out and sometimes… all she wants is to let go and be taken care of. She misses being a little girl with no worries, eating her mom’s homemade meals and reading all the books in the Magic Treehouse series. She misses the time when she didn’t have to worry about paying her water bills, or calculating the force of a stupid spring.
She’s spent so much time trying to handle all of her stress by herself, but now… now, she has Harry.
It feels really nice when he dotes on her, she has to admit. When he texts her throughout the day, asking for updates about her schoolwork, or reminding her to eat before she comes into work. It makes her feel cared for, like she’s not alone.
And she craves physical touch so badly. It’s like she needs it to survive. Depriving herself of Harry’s touch, of his kisses and cuddles and even the simple act of holding his hand – it’s been making her feel off. That (mixed with how daylight savings makes her get so depressed during the winter months)... it’s been sending her on a downward spiral. 
She’s hanging on by a thread… so maybe letting go, and letting Harry take care of her would do her some good. 
He sucks on her neck, warm tongue poking out to lick a mark on her throat. It feels nice, a fuzzy feeling bubbling in her chest as he pulls her skin between his teeth, then presses a gentle kiss to the bruised mark. Her heart flutters as he takes care of her, each of her worries floating away with each kiss he presses down her neck.
She loves the way his hands feel on her, so big and manly, yet touching her so gently… it makes her feel small and fragile, like a delicate glass doll that he fawns over and protects. His strong biceps bulge next to her head as he braces himself above her, the broad expanse of his shoulders hovering over her and shielding her from the troubles of the world. She traces her hand over his chest in a trance, feeling the hardness of his chest, the ridges of his prominent six pack.
He is… so hot, it’s actually unbearable. Her head spins a little bit at how strong and large the man above her is, and a gooey feeling bubbles in her tummy when she remembers that he’s all hers.
“My poor baby,” he murmurs softly into her ear, “you’re too pretty to be this stressed.” She tilts her head towards him, a silent plea for a kiss. His lips skim her cheek, puckering in slow, sultry pecks.  “Deserve to relax, be treated like a princess,” he continues to whisper, a slew of sweet words and praises filtering through the small space between them. 
His words get to her head, helping her detach from reality just a bit more. He’s right, she does deserve a break! She does deserve to let her hot and rich boyfriend take care of her! Fuck physics!
He kisses her cheek one more time and lines his cock up with her center, nudging himself in slowly. A happy sigh leaves her lips as he slides into her, stretching her so nicely and filling the empty pit that had been forming in her tummy. This is what she needed. Not an extra hour in the library, or some useless review session. She needed Harry… needed him to clear her mind, kiss her cheeks, and stuff her full of his cock. 
“How is it, puppy?” he coos, looking down at her fondly. “Feels nice?”
“So nice,” she sighs. Her arms wrap around his neck, fingers toying with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. She looks up at him with her soft eyes, half-lidded and filled with a dreamy haze. He gazes down at her softly, green eyes glimmering prettily with an adoring glint as he sees how soft and gooey she’s turning now that she’s filled with him.
Her body has gone completely pliant, her once tense shoulders now loosened and her furrowed brow relaxed. Her limbs wrap around him like a koala bear clinging onto a bamboo tree, hugging him close as he rocks into her softly. And her cheeks have this warm glow to them, matching the glowing sunshine aura that he always sees around her. He can tell that there’s not one stressed out thought floating around in her brain anymore, and that she’s falling into her soft, dreamy state. 
A sweet moan leaves her lips. “Daddy,” she whimpers, pressing her fingers into the broad of his shoulders. She just wants to be close to him, feeling him all over. 
“I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.” His thrusts are steady and deep, pumping into her softly at a gentle pace that won’t overwhelm her, but still reaches deep enough to stimulate her. “Needed this, didn’t you? Needed daddy’s cock to help you feel better?” His palm cups her jaw, thumb rubbing over the apple of her cheek. She nods like a puppy, a small pout on her lips. 
Sweet sighs fill the space between them, quiet whimpers falling from her lips that she tries to contain. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip, chewing on it so it’s red and swollen and slick with her spit. Harry can’t help himself from leaning down and sucking it into his mouth, kissing her sweetly. She keens upwards, loving it when he kisses her. His soft stubble scratches against her lips so nicely, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip and into her mouth. Warm lips slick over each other continuously, a gentle pattern of tangling and untangling as he fucks her slowly. His teeth capture her bottom lip in a delicate teasing bite, one to just make her tilt her head upwards and closer to him. 
His lips make her lightheaded, kissing her until she’s breathless and whimpering into his mouth. Even though she’s running out of breath, though, she whines when he pulls away, pouting up at him with her puppy eyes. “Kiss,” she whimpers, her voice high pitched and watery. 
“Need to catch your breath, puppy,” he warns, but she whines again.
“Please daddy,” her voice cracks around the plea, “kiss me.” 
He gives in, of course. His sweet girl, more precious to him than anything in the world, begging for a kiss – it breaks his heart to see her eyes so sad. So he kisses her lips again, gently, pulling away every few seconds so that she doesn’t go breathless again. And once she’s calmed down, no longer fussy about not having his lips against hers, he moves to kissing all over her face. Down her jawline and over her cheeks, soft kisses that tickle her skin and make her smile sweetly. 
It had been hard, seeing her wearing herself so thin. He could see it – saw the bags under her eyes from all the late nights she had, and how her normal glowing aura had gone dull from not taking care of herself. He did his best to look out for her, always offering to cook something for her, texting her and checking in on her, and giving her all the support he could… but it was hard when she tried so hard to be independent. He admired her for it, of course! She was a strong, independent young woman. So smart and mature, always working so hard. 
But… he cares for her so much. It means the world to him when she lets him care for her, baby her a little bit. He wants to wake her up to breakfast in bed, take her shopping and buy all the expensive things that she’s always fawning over on pinterest. Wants to cuddle her to sleep, play with her hair the way that he knows she loves, trace over her back in soft circles until she’s dozing off on his chest. 
Those moments when she just relaxes and lets him take care of her… that’s when he feels he can fully prove to her how much she means to him. 
Pumping himself into her, he feels himself getting closer and closer to his end. He wants her to finish first though (he’d rather die than not make her cum), so he brings a hand down and starts rubbing her clit gently. 
The more time that they’ve been together, the better he’s learned her body. So it doesn’t surprise him when she flutters around his cock as soon as his fingers meet her pretty clit. The shock of his cool fingers sends electricity up her spine, and she arches her back. Her soft tummy brushes against his hard abdomen, and she involuntarily clenches around him.
“That’s it baby,” he praises, “y’getting close?”
She nods eagerly, breathing picking up and her heart beating fast in her chest. She tries to keep her eyes open so that she can look at Harry, stare into his pretty eyes as he fucks her so nicely, but the feeling of her incoming orgasm is so overwhelming. Her lashes flutter shut and her eyes roll into the back of her head. “Daddy,” she babbles, “feels so good daddy.” 
“Yeah?” he murmurs, grunting into her ear softly as he keeps his composure together. “Gonna cum?” “Yes, please,” she whines, “wanna cum.”
“Go on then, cum for me baby.” His fingers work her clit faster, in tight little circles that he knows will make her cum, and he buries his face in her neck, lips skimming a special spot right below her ear where she’s super sensitive. When her orgasm hits and her pussy starts gripping his cock even harder, he bites down, choking down his own moans and focusing on thrusting deep inside of her, his cockhead pressing against her g-spot every time he presses his hips down. 
“O-Oh,” she cries, hips jutting as she lets go. Her cheeks go warm and a ringing starts in her ears, that familiar feeling exploding in her core and spreading into her bloodstream. Her fingers go numb and her chest tingles, and she thanks god that she has Harry to make her cum. The orgasms she used to have with her fingers are so bleak and sad compared to how Harry makes her feel. 
With an arched back she cries out sweet moans of “daddy,” Harry still thrusting into her so that she gets the most of her orgasm. Only when she finally goes limp, arms falling to her sides as if they’re made of jello, does he start to slow down. Her hands shake at her sides with the remnants of her orgasm, legs twitching every once in a while from how hard she came. He stops fully inside of her, despite how hard he and desperate he is for release, and he brushes his hands over her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes and gently petting her cheekbones. 
“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, “so pretty when you cum for daddy.” She looks up at him with soft eyes, dazed in a post-orgasmic haze. Her brain feels gooey and all she can think about is how much she loves Harry. “Prettiest girl in the world, did y’know that?” 
His words float around on heart shaped clouds in her head, filled with nothing but rainbows and fluffy thoughts. She leans into his touch, and when his thumb traces over her bottom lip, she eagerly opens it and sucks his thumb into her mouth. It nearly catches him by surprise, how willingly she takes his finger into his mouth and starts sucking on it for comfort - but with how dreamy her eyes are, he supposes he should’ve expected her to be feeling especially soft and vulnerable. 
Her pussy is so warm and wet, encasing him perfectly, and he shivers at how achingly hard he is, sitting still inside of her. He thinks he should just pull out, go wank himself off in the bathroom and come back to comfort her… but then y/n looks up at him with the cutest look in her eyes. “Did you cum?” 
He smiles, “Not yet baby, but s’okay. Want to take care of you first.” He starts sliding himself out, hissing at how her pussy practically sucks him in, almost in protest of him leaving.
“Nooo, please,” she whines, “Want you to cum daddy.” 
“Y’so sensitive baby, don’t you wanna clean up instead?”
She shakes her head, furrow in her brow. “Inside please.” 
His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he takes a sharp breath, “y’want me to cum inside you, puppy?” She nods her head. 
With a deep breath, he starts thrusting himself back into her plushy heat, surrounded by her slickness. This time he doesn’t use as much self control, letting himself revel in how amazing she feels wrapped around his cock. He swears she was made for him – her perfect body, soft and beautiful. Pretty tits that he loves to suck on, her cute tummy and soft hands. Her lips, heart shaped and candy flavored, and her eyes, filled with stars that he wants to gaze at forever. It doesn’t take long at all, before he’s pressing his hips firmly against hers in one final thrust and cums. 
“Good girl,” he grunts, kissing her cheek repeatedly as he spurts into the condom. His arms shake as he holds himself up, and his breathing falters in his chest. When he feels her soft fingers gently skim his back, he looks up at her. She smiles down at him with that pretty smile of hers, and he feels his heart explode. 
“Thank you baby,” he whispers into the delicate bubble of intimacy surrounding them, “you were so good for me, so proud.” 
He pulls himself out, and though she pouts sadly, she lies there and waits patiently for him to run and discard the condom. She expects him to run right back, maybe with a towel in hand to clean her up, but then she hears him start filling up the tub. She pushes herself up on her elbows, and contemplates getting out of bed to see what he’s up to, but he comes running out before she can move a muscle.
His hair sticks messily in all sorts of directions, so he pushes it out of his face and ties it back with a tiny little clip that she recognizes as one of her own. Standing at the edge of the bed, she thinks he looks adorable, with his flushed face and floppy curls. “Want a bath?” he asks. She nods with a glowing heart – it’s like he read her mind! She loves baths after sex! 
He picks her up bridal style and carries her into the bathroom, kissing her cheek and making her giggle in his arms on the way there. When he sits her gently into the tub, she can tell that he’s saturated the water with her favorite bath oil, a relaxing persian rose scent that she had once offhandedly mentioned to him (she doesn’t have a bathtub in her shitty college apartment, so Harry went out of his way to get all her favorite bath products to have in his penthouse so that she could take a nice bath whenever she wanted). 
He grabs another hair clip from her little stash that she keeps in his top right drawer, and twists her hair up for her so that it doesn’t get wet and bother her while they’re soaking together. And, before he finally hops in behind her, he runs to the living room to grab her hydroflask from her backpack, so that she can rehydrate and won’t get lightheaded in the steamy bathroom. 
Stepping into the bath with his long and lanky limbs is always awkward, and he would never take one for his own enjoyment. But ever since y/n came into his life, he’s gained a newfound appreciation for bath time. It’s a soft and serene place, quiet and peaceful with no need for conversation. They have some of their most intimate and vulnerable moments here in this very tub. Sitting bare with each other, without any wild passion or desperate need to ravage the other. Just… peaceful love.
Whenever he’s in his bathroom now, he’s reminded of her. The rose scented bath products that crowd the edges of his tub, the hair clips that clutter his once barren drawer, the pink handled toothbrush that sits next to his… they’re all reminders of her. 
Y/n leans back on his chest, sinking herself into the water and closing her eyes, while Harry’s hands lay on her stomach in an almost protective manner. Her breathing is steady, chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Harry takes this time to admire his pretty girlfriend, her heart shaped lips and cherub cheeks. Her after sex glow makes her look like even more of an angel, he thinks, especially with how soft and relaxed she is in this moment. He rubs his thumb in small little circles on her stomach, and she twitches gently at his touch, eyelids fluttering and her abdomen jumping. 
“Stop,” she whines softly. “It tickles.”
A soft grin dimples his cheek, and he stills his thumb. “Sorry, baby,” he apologizes gently. Another sweet kiss to her cheek makes her smile.
She opens her eyes and looks around the bathroom momentarily. Harry, so attentive to all her needs, knows exactly what she’s searching for. He grabs her water bottle and flips the straw up, holding it up to her lips. She takes a few sips, the water cooling her down and clearing her head from how lightheaded the steamy bathroom was making her. “Thanks,” she murmurs, laying back down on his chest.
He kisses the back of her head, probably the hundredth kiss he’s given her that night.
When she’s done soaking, Harry’s quick to hop out and wrap a towel around his waist, before grabbing the larger, fluffier towel and holding it out for her. She stands up and lets the water drip off for a sec, before stepping out and letting Harry wrap it around her shoulders. While she dries herself off, he picks out one of his old t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants for her to wear. They swallow her whole, the t-shirt big on her shoulders and the sweatpants pooling around her ankles. 
With a pair of sweatpants on himself, he coaxes her into bed with him, letting her snuggle into his side with her cheek nestled on his bare chest. His hands rest on her back and hold her close, and she falls asleep within minutes. He stays awake a little bit longer, though, planning what he’s gonna cook for her for breakfast tomorrow. 
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HI BESTIESSS HOPE U ENJOYED THIS BLURB :) NEXT PLEASING BLURB IS ALREADY UP ON PATREON!!! 
HERES A SNEAKY 
DONT FORGET TO RB AND LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK :-) 
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calliedion-dungeon · 9 months
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𖤓Sore Kisses
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Chapter 13. These Vultures
Read on ao3 here
Warnings: MDNI +18 [I fucking mean it] Smoking, Heavy Drinking, Fluff and Angst Swearing, Crossdressing, Adult Content, Eventual Smut, Blonde Mary Goore!! Everyone is a Little Shit in here, later it gets all Soft and Smutty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Trope, Slow Burn Romance
Summary: After a failed date, you find yourself free to see Mary after weeks without being able to be together, thanks to your new life after the move. A day in this new routine is suffocating, but the sky opens a little to give you a little light, although not in the way you want.
I'll post this one full length since it's nothing but SFW
A couple of weeks have passed after your move, you have been so busy that you have not even had time to feel bad about it with total freedom, you just go from one place to another, from school to work and from work only to sleep at home and repeat. There are times when it seems like Mary only exists on your phone, at least it's not like talking to a bot, they always keep you up to date with the nonsense that Nick and Frank do, their late night thoughts keep you awake when you have a school project to work on. You both always talk about how one day they’ll keep you company until dawn, but you never actually ask them to come, you’re sure you will do anything except do homework with Mary on your side, or so you assume.
You were behind on some deadlines, but you bought time to hand in your work, you were waiting for a colleague who was supposed to help you with some photographs, you needed someone with narrow shoulders and long hair, you have a very specific idea of what you want the scene to be like; after waiting half an hour in the lobby of your school, you call her non-stop to find out where the hell is she, internally praying that she hasn't forgotten about the appointment. After a few calls that she didn't answer, she sends you messages that she is incapacitated due to a hernia on the back, you can't get mad at her for that, it's out of her control, but you still curse your bad luck and resolve to go back home.
Along the way home you smoke two or more cigarettes, bought yourself a drink, frustrated at not being able to make progress on your tasks, you had even asked for a week's vacation at work to be able to do it, for all to come to nothing, you snort as you approach your door looking at the phone, Mary has sent a text in response to your morning message, an eggplant emoji and a lips emoji next to it, classic, especially when your text was “What did you dream about?”
Many times, when you have a little moment to think, you feel kind of bad for having pressured yourself into doing something physical with Mary. Only because you knew you wouldn't have time later, once you left. But you can't keep punishing yourself for something so superfluous, especially when they still show you that they think about you in the most depraved ways you can't imagine.
In a brief message, you tell Mary your annoyance about what happened with your colleague. For what they answer you.
"Does that mean you can come tonight?" they write back.
"Sure, where to?" you respond while eating something and regret smoking that much.
"To the gig??" the text hits you like a train.
You didn't even have time to feel bad for not remembering, of course, the good side of every bad thing, at least now you have the night free to see them, finally. Your heart jumps out of your chest when it finally dawns on you, the path to the bar is blurry in your memory, because you can't wait.
It took a lot of obstacles and time to get to the bar. You couldn't take the subway because it was too late, taking a vehicle made you quite afraid, you were too far away to be able to call someone to give you a ride; you’re sure that something higher must have been taking care of you because you cannot explain how you arrived at the bar safe and sound, nor why you did not bring something with you to defend yourself, even so, it is always better not to have to use them in mind and just exist with ease, so, even if you have to crawl, you’re determined to be there until it’s over.
As you pass through the people of the crowded place, you stop looking for another familiar face other than theirs, suddenly, someone lifts you into the air, you hit enraged whoever dared to take you like a sack of potatoes over their shoulder; it wasn't for long that you recognized the shirt on the back of the person who carried you. When they put you down and you see that it was indeed Mary, you give them a fake slap while you laugh, they were already ready for that and quickly grab your thighs to pick you up again, you gladly jump and wrap your legs on their waist and your arms around their neck.
“Hi-” you tried to say, touching noses, but their lips interrupted your greeting. You're glad to know that not only you were starving for kissing them, their mouth attacked you sloppily, most likely they also tasted what you ate for breakfast by how deep their tongue got, they were being rough but not as in hurtful, as if he had forgotten how to do it more comfortably, Mary seemed too desperate to care.
You giggled when they go lower to your neck, you’re aware that no one was watching the two of you, although not for long because they soon push you against a wall, pressing with his hip, trying to get as close to you as possible.
“Not here-” you hide your face in their shoulder, coyly trying to remember that you’re not alone in the bar.
Without saying anything yet, Mary slowly lowers you from their arms, not without taking advantage of groping every inch of your legs, without letting go of their neck, you hug them sweetly, fondling your fingers on the back of their head.
“I’ve missed you too, beautiful” It feels like you haven't seen each other in months, maybe longer.
"Oh no..." Only then do you begin to notice his beer breath and his damp hair and shirt “Am I late?”
"Just a little, we're done playing, but we were planning to stay here a little longer."
"Mary, I'm sorry, I didn't realize the time, I came as fast as I could, apart from having forgotten..." you regret out loud.
"It doesn't matter, you're here, now." They hold your face, joining your foreheads, then they guide you by taking your hand to where the others are, already deep into their drinks, there was only the bandmates and their friends, Frank wasn’t there.
Thanks to what they had already been drinking, everyone was much more expressive than usual, even the people who didn't know you celebrated your arrival when Mary shouted out to everybody, you saw Nick too busy counting Cami’s molars with his tongue in a stool far from the table and the sight made you laugh, you were way behind them in terms of intoxication, although, the atmosphere is already pretty hazy.
It was definitely a surprise how Mary was so cheerful as you see them stretching out their arm to take a picture of you two, just when you notice and get closer to hug them tighter, they get distracted by a hand that takes theirs, you two turn around, the strange hand does not let go, it caresses Mary’s arm, you both look at a girl who smiles at Mary, said smile fades when she looks at you holding their arm.
"I'm sorry, are you a couple?" asks the girl as she hesitantly lets go off their hand.
"Something like that" you answer very confused.
"Yeah" Mary drawls, it takes them a while to react and they turn to look at you.
"I mean, yeah?" you try to rectify.
"No?" Mary inquires looking at you confused also.
“Let me know when you’re done riding that, then” says the girl at you when she leaves giving you a side eye. Your face contorted at those words.
Despite being sober enough to not be as expressive in how you feel, you couldn't hide your face and your reaction from Mary. They hold your chin, trying to get your attention, but you turn your face away, not sure why you feel humiliated.
The bar was too noisy to be able to think, much less express yourself as you wanted and you can't do it if you don't think first, you give Mary a hand sign that you'll be back in a moment and then head to the bathrooms of the bar, that long hallway in which the two of you had your first kiss, you almost managed to open the door when they pulled on your arm, asking you what was wrong, unfortunately, no words come out of your mouth.
“You know I don’t care about labels.” They whisper, hinting what you got in mind.
“Me neither, but it’s easier to choose one than having to explain”
“We don’t have to explain shit to anyone, we know what’s up, that matters most.” They hold your arms soothing with their fingers along.
“…I guess” your voice came out hoarse, not letting you say more.
“What’s wrong? You having doubts?” you shake your head vehemently “Hey, if somebody asks, we can just say we’re together. Isn’t it enough?”
“Yeah, sorry, I must be tired. I just didn’t like what that woman said…”
“What did she say? I didn’t hear”
“To tell her when I’m done with you, like… as if I’m the one in shift or something like that”
“Why does it bother you? We don’t have to prove anything to anyone…”
“I know that, damnit! it’s just…” You sound upset.
“Just…?”
“It only reminded me that we haven’t even…” you only sighed as if could be understood by that what you mean “And we haven’t because we barely see each other, I know it’s stupid, but if I keep thinking about that… and I don’t want to ruin the night talking about it”
“Hey, listen, nobody is gonna steal me from you, and vultures are everywhere. Don’t let it get under your skin, sweetheart.” They start giving you little kisses on your face, trying to make you smile. “I mean… we could just go, ya know?” they waggle their eyebrows a couple of times.
“Where?” you ask already getting nervous, making your frustration evaporate in seconds.
“Not my place, Frank’s there, snoring like a bear. Is Jenn back?” Mary smirks at you with impure intentions.
“They were supposed to come back today, but very late” you remember with a curious smile.
“So… what do you say? You think we got time?” they stick to your body, searching for your neck with their teeth.
“I don’t know, aren’t you drunk?” You say unsure, because they’re not making that grimace with his mouth that indicates that they’re getting lost.
“Nuh-uh!” Says in a dramatic tone and laughs afterwards.
“Liar, I don’t believe you.” You tease as you drag each other outside the bar without saying goodbye to the others.
During the way there was a small struggle between the two of you in the car because they were trying to put their hands in your pants, the idea of the driver seeing you and taking you out of the car made you too nervous. From a distance it might have looked like they were drunk, it was just that Mary was extra playful tonight, tickling you, kissing your neck in the elevator, "picking" a lint off your blouse or "shaking the dust off your pants” and straight up pinching your butt. You made sure to smile, so that the very few people who saw you, wouldn't think badly that this young metalhead with face paint wasn't bothering you and ruin the night.
Mary wouldn't even let you open the door, because their desperation was such that they pushed you against it to kiss you passionately, and honestly, the closer you were to entering the more you stopped caring, it was almost a mistake to turn around while they were still stuck at your neck like a fly sucking, barely without getting your hair out of the way, they were just already grunting softly, giving you goosebumps, with his arms wrapped around your waist pushing you from behind as you turn the key to the apartment to enter.
“Hey guys! Watcha doin’?” Jenn asks cheerfully from the living room, as soon as you get inside the apartment.
“Jenn! Thank goodness you came back, everything alright? How-how was your thing?” you say in a booming voice, barely stopping yourself from screaming, Mary at least you have the decency to halt.
“You mean work? Meh… boring” says your roommate as they eat a bowl of cereal and watching tv.
“Yeah, night shifts suck, am I right?” says Mary awkwardly hiding their crotch behind you.
“Don’t even get me started, I’ll just devour this and go to bed. You staying the night?” Jenn asks regarding Mary.
“Uh… yeah, you know just… sleep” says Mary in a very fake tone, trying to appear sane “Talk about, uh… the geopolitics during the cold war, ouch!” You elbow them on the ribs.
“If it’s ok with you, I know I didn’t tell you in advance, I thought you were staying late at work” you explain a little calmer.
“Alright, just a reminder that I am a very light sleeper.” You can tell Jenn’s comment has several layers to it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll put on some duct tape on her… Ow!” Mary was about to laugh at their own joke until you interrupted with another violent nudge and push them towards your room before they kept talking.
“You crazy kids, goodnight then” Jenn, comprehensive as always, doesn’t meddle much.
“Why don’t you ever shut up?” you tell them as you close the door of your room which is separated from Jenn's room by the kitchen and the living room.
“Why don’t you fucking make me?” says in a flirtatious tone, pulling the hem of your blouse up. In response, you grab them by the chin squeezing their cheeks and kiss them forcefully.
They were moaning because of your bites on their lower lip, you could feel the vibrations of their voice, you guide them towards your bed to sit without removing your lips from them, you tenderly take them by the thighs, they quickly take off your blouse and their shirt. Without giving you a break, they lower their head a little to pull the straps of your bra with their teeth, playing with them a little, both of you giggling. Suddenly you hear them wanting to burp but doesn't, a second later it seems like they’re having trouble breathing, you grab their cheeks, raising their head to ask him if they’re okay, you couldn't do it for a long time because they run off to kneel in your trash can and start vomiting.
“You did lie to me, you’re drunk.” You kneel next to them to brush their hair out of their face.
“I’m sorry, beautiful, I thought I was better than I felt.” They say not facing you yet.
“It’s alright, but don’t ever do that again. Let me help you get up” They didn't really require your help, but either way you wanted to get them cleaned up and forget what happened as quickly as possible, you couldn't help but grumble a little, which they noticed right away, making them feel guilty.
They lament while you accompany them to the bathroom so they can use your mouthwash, they manage to capture your melancholic look in the mirror over the sink while you wipe their face from the paints, shortly after, you get out of there to change your clothes into light pajamas.
“I just wanted to be with you so bad…” Mary whines as they get out of the bathroom, now only wearing their briefs.
“I don’t want it if it’s like this.” You get closer, resting your hands on their shoulders.
“Sorry…” They keep saying. At least Mary lets you guide them to the bed so they can sleep with you, funny enough, you ended up doing what Jenn was told.
“It’s fine, you big moron.” Your voice sounds calmer and happier, you get them to snuggle up with you, carefully you cover them with the blanket.
“Can I get just one little kiss?” Mary says pouting, a face you can't resist, you peck a kiss on their lips, wary that it doesn’t lead to anything else.
In the end you can't say that you're upset, just a little snubbed, but it's not wasted time being with them, the mere fact of being there together is something that at the beginning of the day you didn't have planned, so spending any time with them, especially the entire night is enough to be grateful; you hug their head against your chest and give them a few kisses on the forehead until they slowly fall asleep as they hug tightly your torso.
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ajitated · 1 year
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Giving Up Ghost Hunting by Ajility
DP one-shot, 1.2k words Written for @faedemon for Phic Phight 2023, Team Ghost!
What do you do when your nemesis makes a really good point about wasting time and how exhausted you are? What do you do when it turns out he's right, and you don't need to be putting yourself through this? Valerie doesn't know, but she'll figure it out.
(Read on ao3, or keep reading below!)
Valerie has three upcoming tests, two papers, and a never-ending list of homework and practice problems to get through. Despite being part-time, she’s been scheduled to work for five of seven days next week — definitely over 20 hours. And there’s been at least one ghost attack every. single. day. 
She’s running on fumes, but at least she’s doing a good job hiding it. 
…or at least. She thought she was doing a good job hiding it. 
“...what did you just say?” she demands through gritted teeth, her ecto-gun aimed and ready. 
Phantom holds his hands up in mock-surrender. “Nothing!” He says automatically, then pauses and sighs, letting his hands drop. His usual taunting demeanor drops with them. “...just. You look tired.”
She looks tired? Ha! What would he know about that? It’s none of his business, and she has a mask on, and-! 
…and she is tired. 
“Well if you’re worried about my beauty sleep, why don’t you start running?” She scoffs. “The quicker we get this over with, the quicker I can work on my paper and go to bed.” 
Phantom just sighs again. “Or you could skip chasing me and go work on your paper now.” 
Valerie growls and gives a warning shot just a few inches to the left of his head. He doesn’t even flinch. “Nice try, ghost. You’re lucky I’m even talking to you right now, I’m not gonna just let you go.” 
“Yes, you will. Because you always do. Because if you ever actually caught me, you’d have to deal with all the ghosts in this town, by yourself.” Phantom says flatly. “You’re barely keeping up right now. You have tests to study for, papers to write, and work. That’s a lot even without the ghost hunting.” 
What? “How do you-” she starts to say, but he cuts her off. 
“I handled the ectopus today. I handled Kitty and Johnny earlier in the week. I dealt with Boxy and there wasn’t even much property damage this time. You got there late every single time because you’re so tired, you’ve started falling asleep in class. Stop being stubborn and wasting both of our time, and take a break before you get yourself hurt. Your paper is due tomorrow, you’re already not getting sleep tonight.”  
He turns and flies off before she’s even finished processing all that… which unfortunately means he’s gone before she can shoot him for it. 
Who does he think he is, telling her off like that? She’s handling everything perfectly fine, thankyou-very-much! She has plenty of time to- to… tomorrow? 
Today is Tuesday, the paper isn’t due until… oh. Oh, no. Today is Thursday. The paper is due tomorrow. 
She lowers her gun and speeds home; she doesn’t have time to figure out where Phantom went tonight or how he knew all that. 
--- 
On the upside, Valerie does get her paper done and manages to turn it in on time… on the downside, Phantom was right: she doesn’t get any sleep. 
It grates on her nerves, but… without him right in front of her, it’s much easier for her to admit he has a point. She is exhausted. She does have too much work to get done. She has been arriving to ghost fights late, and she’s been making stupid mistakes. She’s going to get herself — or someone else — hurt. 
She can’t risk someone else getting hurt. 
…which is also why she can’t just leave the ghost fights to Phantom. He’s a ghost. He clearly doesn’t understand, and isn’t going to protect everyone properly! She can’t trust human lives to a ghost. 
Except… she kind of has been, unintentionally. By showing up late to fights. And no one’s gotten hurt yet. If she’s going to keep being late and keep risking people’s lives… maybe she should take a break. So she can be ready when she’s actually needed. 
Maybe- just for a week? 
Dammit. 
She hates that Phantom has a point. 
---
A week goes by. Then two. 
Valerie doesn’t hunt any ghosts, including Phantom. 
No one gets hurt. 
She gets her papers turned in, passes her tests, catches up on sleep… She feels good. 
Good, but empty. 
Phantom was right, she doesn’t have to exhaust herself chasing ghosts, she doesn’t have to exhaust herself chasing him, and the world keeps turning… Ha. That’s messed up, isn’t it? 
She kind of wishes someone got hurt. Not because she actually wants anyone hurt, of course, but- because it’d prove she’s needed. 
Instead, the exact opposite has been proven: she can put her hoverboard down, leave the ecto-guns hidden away, and Phantom will handle all the ghosts juuuust fine — if anything, things are going better now that she’s not hunting him. She isn’t needed. At all. 
What does she do with that info? 
Now that she doesn’t have a billion normal life things to worry about, now that she’s caught up with school and things have calmed down and she has free time — what does she do? 
Ignore the fact she’s not needed and go back to hunting anyway? 
The few patrols she’s gone on, she hasn’t seen more than a blob. Shooting blobs isn’t any fun, it just makes her feel mean. That’s why she’d been leaving them for Phantom even before this… 
And- she doesn’t think she can go back to just hunting Phantom. As much as she hates him, as much as she wants to… he was right. And he hasn’t let anyone get hurt. It doesn’t matter if she knows he’s awful, as long as he’s keeping people safe and doing just as good a job as she had been. 
But then- what does she do? 
Valerie grits her teeth. She’s not going to start crying in the school library over this. She’s not. 
She’ll find a hobby. Maybe she can start… painting. Or photography. Or something. 
The A-listers are at least neutral towards her again — maybe she can make new friends, now that she has the time and won’t be making excuses to get out of plans because she has to deal with another ghost-bear. 
This line of thought is not helping. She rubs at her eyes and groans, then looks around to make sure no one’s paying attention to her… and spots Danny Fenton hunched over a book, a few tables away. 
She bites her lip. She hasn’t properly talked to Danny in months, he’s one of the people she could potentially try befriending… and he looks exhausted. More than she did a few weeks ago, before she stopped hunting ghosts, which is as worrying as it is impressive. 
She knows he struggles in a lot of classes (everyone knows that) and the portal is in his basement… even if he’s not hunting ghosts, he probably has to deal with them a lot. Honestly, she’s surprised his parents haven’t made him get into ghost hunting yet. 
Maybe- maybe that’s what she can do: help Danny Fenton. It might end up getting her involved with ghosts again— but there’s no guarantee so it’s fine, it doesn’t count. 
Besides, she should pay it forward right? Phantom helped her when she was exhausted, so… she’ll help someone else now. And this could go towards a ‘make new friends’ goal too, so even if she does just end up helping him with studying and school work, it’ll be a success. 
Mind made up, Valerie stands up and makes her way over to Danny’s table. She’s got this, she doesn’t need ghost hunting, she can help friends with school instead.
(ao3)
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ikyw-t · 8 months
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ugh I feel so frustrated bc for the past two and a half weeks or so I've just been feeling sooo tired constantly. like regardless of how well I've been sleeping I just start feeling exhausted after like an hour of being awake. obviously this has made it very hard for me to do homework but it's getting quite silly bc I have my last homework assignment of this class due tonight and it's literally like a three paragraph response and I still can't bring myself to do it bc I feel like I have 0 brain cells atm. like before I was thinking this may've been caused by a certain medication but I've stopped taking that. however a few days ago I did get both the covid and the flu shot at once so I think that may be causing my current tiredness. in any case the other day I went to see a new doctor and she ordered some labs so I'll be going to get some blood work done asap and hopefully this nonsense can come to an end hf it's just soo. annoying and also frustrating. like bro I literally just need to write three paragraphs. and all I can think about is going back to sleep like 😭😭😭
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jungkxook · 3 years
Text
—the love bug. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: spiderman!jungkook + fluff / smut
⟶ words: 20,649 (sorry)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: every night, jungkook puts on the red mask and flings himself confidently into perilous danger; but that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit seems to fail him whenever it comes to you 
⟶ warnings: coarse language, mild violence, jungkook is really shy and cute and dumb bc he’s so smitten, also jungkook’s butt in spandex is nice, needy/clingy sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), face riding, fingering, riding, missionary, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: this is a repost of a fic i had on my old blog! 
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You see Jungkook every night without fail.
When the sun has set below the distant horizon and plunges the world into a formidable darkness, driving most ordinary civilians to seek shelter in their homes, he stumbles into the café tucked cozily on the corner of a busy street in Lower Manhattan. The concrete city is still very much alive in a harmonious mix of sirens and the hum of cars but is subdued, muffling under the night sky and is most susceptible at this time to misconduct. Usually, at this point of night, the café you work at is nearly empty, save for a few stragglers that huddle tiredly at certain round tables. Most times, these are students from the university you attend just around the bend, whose weary eyes peer over the laptop in front of them as they meticulously work on an essay due the next morning, only fueled by the cup of coffee next to them.
Though you’ve seen Jungkook plenty of times around the campus of your school, he never once enters the café for the sole purpose of late night studying or writing. Instead, as you come to find over the course of many strange nights, Jungkook stumbles in through the doors sometime after 9 p.m., always with one strap of his backpack thrown over his shoulder. He always looks dishevelled, exhausted, as if he has spent the evening running all over the city of New York; and then he plops himself down into a seat by the window, burying his head in his folded arms that lean on the top of the table. Most times he orders a coffee and though he downs it the fastest you’ve ever seen, he is still somehow able to fall asleep at the table. Sometimes, he hardly ever touches the coffee and lets it grow cold as it rests next to him but he always, without a doubt, falls asleep next to it.
You never wake him. Usually, when you work the late night shifts, you are alone for a handful of hours until your next coworker arrives for their shift. You don’t mind the company anyway, even if he sleeps for most of the night. It’s comforting to at least see he’s resting, though you find yourself snickering to yourself as you watch the snoring boy when it’s just you and him alone in the café. Though you have grown up with Jungkook as your next door neighbour as a child, have attended the same schools and been in most classes together from elementary all the way to your freshman year of college now, and have watched one another mature and change, you have never really exactly gotten to know Jungkook as well as you’d like. Typically, your conversations are short and friendly, ranging from you taking his order at the café and spotting him around campus and asking if he knew the answer to a question for the homework assigned to the class you share with him.
This night isn’t any different.
You’ve become eager, always anticipating when Jungkook will walk through the doors of the café and make himself at home as he routinely does. However, just before 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, when the small bell above the door rings to signal a new arrival, you are immediately disappointed to find that it is not Jungkook. Instead, it is a crude muscular man not much older than you with tattoos that litter his arms and a star inked into the left side of his neck. The sight of him causes you to groan inwardly, forces you to straighten your back a little more, hold your chin a little higher. Most nights the café may be occupied by university students, but other nights you are forced to deal with tasteless strangers that try to intimidate you but instead give you an agonising headache.
You have seen this man before, have remembered the star tattoo and the scar just above his right eyebrow. He has come into the café before and has been the source of trouble more often than not. As the man approaches the counter in an imperious stride this time, you notice the smirk that tugs at his lips and feel the foreboding shudder that runs down your spine.
“Evenin’,” You greet. “Can I get you anything?”
The man’s eyes flicker to the menu above the counter, as if he is pondering what to order. He looks back down at you and then leans against the counter, closing the distance between him and you causing you to take a step back.
“How are you doing tonight, sweetheart?” he asks. “Been awhile, huh? Did you miss me?”
Forcing a fixed smile on your face, you reply shortly with, “I’ve been well. Can I get you anything?”
Apparently, the way you repeat your question in a firm manner doesn’t act as well of a hint as you had hoped for the man. He’s smirking wickedly, clearly enjoying the strain he puts you through.
“I know what you can get me, sweetheart,” he drawls. “When do you get off? Maybe we can meet round back and I can show you what a real man is like.”
“No thanks.”
“Playing hard to get, hm?” he muses. “I wonder what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do.”
Though you are appalled, you swallow your nerves and narrow your eyes into a glare. It can tell you to kindly fuck off, you grimace to yourself. Instead, you turn your back to him, pretending to occupy yourself with cleaning the counter as you mumble blankly, “Not interested.”
The man chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little fun━”
“She said she’s not interested.”
The familiar voice that interrupts the man causes your heart to leap blithely in your chest and makes you realize you have been so caught up with the man by the counter that you hardly noticed the way the bell rings a second time as the newcomer enters the shop. Standing just behind the man is Jungkook, whose carob hair sticks out in messy tufts and weary eyes are laced with an underlying menace. The man looks from you to Jungkook and must assume the confrontation isn’t worth a fight. The smug smile remains on his face even as he shrugs, muttering something along the lines of, “Whatever, man. I was just trying to have some fun.”
Whether or not Jungkook has scared him away, the man relents and retreats to the door of the café, disappearing outside once more. As soon as the door shuts behind him, you come to realize that you are now alone in the café with Jungkook with nothing but the sound of the flat screen t.v that hangs in a corner behind the counter, faintly playing on the news channel.
“You okay?” he asks, catching your attention. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”
“Oh, no. No, I’m fine,” You say. “Thanks for that, by the way. Though I could’ve handled it myself.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t doubt that but it’s nice to get a little help sometimes.”
You smile up at the boy who towers above you and, despite the fatigue that droops his eyes, his pink lips still unfurl into a wide, radiant grin that brightens his face.
“How long are you here for tonight?” he asks.
“Till close. Then I have to head home and put together a powerpoint for psych,” You yawn as if to emphasize your boredom. “What can I get you? The usual?”
Jungkook looks at you as if you are his saving grace. The smile stretches further across his cheeks as he nods. “Please?”
“Will do. Sit tight, I’ll be right over.”
You spin around from behind the counter, almost immediately jumping to work as you rummage through the shelves. When you’re finished making his order that consists solely of a medium black coffee with two sugars and turn back around to face him, you find him seated at a table off to the side, not far from the counter. His backpack lays discarded on the ground by his feet and his elbow rests on top of the surface of the table, his chin nestled in the palm of his hand; his eyes are fixated on the television screen hanging just ahead and, for once upon entering the café past dusk, he doesn’t lack a sense of emotion. Instead, his brows knit in concern as he is engrossed by whatever is happening on the news.
As you approach his table with his coffee in your hand, you crane your neck to look up at the screen and what has seemingly caught his interest. On one side of the screen is a female news reporter in a pink blouse and gray blazer; on the second half of the screen, you see a familiar flash of striking red and blue that swings from building to building from an, albeit, shaky recording from a passerby’s phone.
“And in other news,” The woman who speaks has a strong, smooth voice as she stares ahead at the camera with a rather sour look, “the masked mystery man, otherwise known as Spider-Man, was spotted earlier this morning when he put a stop to a robbery in an apartment in Queens just before noon. Though most would argue that Spider-Man is New York’s very own masked hero, the New York City Police Department are still searching for the identity of whom they call a vigilante, saying he is causing mayhem in━”
“Some guy, huh?” You muse pensively, sliding the coffee onto the counter next to Jungkook. “This spider guy or whatever.”
The boy in front of you glances down meekly at the coffee and back up at you. His eyes flicker to the screen hanging in the corner once more. “You mean Spider-Man?”
Nodding, you say, “Yeah. He comes out of nowhere two years ago and now he’s everywhere. What do you think of him helping with all this dangerous crime stuff?”
“Ah, well, that’s his thing,” Jungkook says, shrugging. “If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t be helping solve a lot of the city’s crimes. I think he’s pretty cool, y’know, for a masked guy. I definitely don’t think he’s a vigilante or━ or a criminal.”
“You talk about him as if you know him,” You giggle.
Jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second and then he’s furiously shaking his head. “Know him? No, no, of course not! I’m just a… Just a big fan ━ and an even bigger fan of Iron Man.”
He picks up the coffee next to him and lifts it to his mouth for a quick sip, nearly burning his tongue but swallowing his curses.
“I like him,” You confess at long last. “He’s interesting. I think he’s just what we need at a time like this.”
Just then, the bell above the door rings once more and a small group of friends wander into the shop, each carrying backpacks and heavy textbooks. They sit at a table off in the corner and you sigh as you look back down at Jungkook.
“That’s my cue,” You say. “Gotta go, but have a good night, okay? And, Jungkook? You really should get some more sleep.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to respond but you are already turning away and so he sits back in his seat, defeated once more. He watches as you stride happily to the group of friends sitting at a table to take their order, your hair bouncing slightly under the fluorescent lights. He folds his arms over the top of his table and buries his head in them, though he sneaks one last glance up at you. Despite his eyes itching with sleep, he pries them open just a second longer to watch you smile as you speak with the students and it is the last thing he sees before he slips off into a light and contented sleep.
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As you step out into the cool, early Autumn night and shut the door of the café behind you to lock it, the single thought most prominent in your mind is sleep.
You’re exhausted, but the homework still waiting to be completed in your home is the only thing that pushes you to stay awake. You hurry to fish the store keys out of your coat pocket and, with a euphonious chime, use them to lock the front door, ignoring the way the cold breeze nips at your cheeks. You grasp the collar of your coat tighter around your body and then hike the strap of your own bag further up your shoulder as you turn to walk away.
Jungkook had fallen asleep as per usual after your short conversation with him and then vanished an hour some time before you closed, waving a final farewell to you. The rest of your night had been rather slow, with only two more customers entering the café until each person left to venture back out into the cold and leave you alone. To finally be freed from the confinements of the café has you breathing in the crisp air in a deep breath. Exhaling placidly, you cross the street and begin making your way toward your one bedroom apartment which is only a fifteen minute walk away from both the café and your school.
You aren’t quite sure how long you have been walking for when you begin to notice the sound of footsteps behind you. In fact, if you had been listening more intently since the second you left the café, you would be able to recall the fact that these same heavy footsteps had been following along behind you since then. You don’t necessarily see the problem at hand just yet, thinking it to be just another innocent passerby who is coincidentally walking the same way as you. After all, New York City has a tremendously huge population.
You take a left, turning the corner of the street to continue along the path to your home. The only light that illuminates the way are the silvery wisps from the moon that hangs high in the night sky and the flickering street lamps that you pass occasionally. You take another left and strain your ears and hear the sound of footsteps again. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was just a random passerby, but most cities weren’t foreign to that of strange stalkers. Holding your breath, you slowly glance over your shoulder at the figure who has been following you and spot a man just a few paces away, the hood of his sweater drawn over his head.
You immediately turn back around, eyes wide as panic begins to settle in. You take another left, then a right, cross the street and retrace your steps back towards the café and each time you hear the heavy footsteps; each time they quicken in pace as does yours. You hadn’t even realized how briskly you were walking until you glance over your shoulder for a second time and see the man once more. Suddenly, you turn a sharp corner and race ahead before coming across an empty and darkened alleyway. You slip into its shadows, your heart hammering wildly against your chest and in your ears, and continue to walk until the brick wall at the very end of the alleyway comes into view. A dead end.
You turn back around and begin walking forward before freezing suddenly. If you go back out there, that man could still be lurking; if you stay in the alleyway, you could hide until you think it’s safe. Your eyes flicker around for something to cower behind and just before you notice the dumpster off to the side, you see a shadow in the corner of your eye. Turning around, you come face-to-face with the hooded man who is all but blocking your path to freedom. Except now, you’re able to stare into his face past the silhouette that his hood draws on his features. Now, you can see the star tattoo on his neck, the scar above his right eyebrow and an image of the man from the café only hours ago flashes across your eyes.
“You,” You gasp. “What do you want from me?”
Behind his hood, you can see him smirk slyly. “I just want to chat to you, babe. What are you doing all by yourself out here?”
Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare. You step forward to walk around him but he grabs onto you, his arm snaking around your waist as he drawls, “Not so fast. I’ve been meaning to get you alone like this.”
Just as you open your mouth to shout out for help, the noise of sudden scuffling in the alley causes the man to stop. It comes with the rustling of the wind and could have easily been mistaken for the sound of a trash can falling over or paper tumbling loosely but it is also unmistakable the sound of footsteps. The man must notice something before you do as he squints further into the alleyway, muttering a small, “What the hell━”
“Come on, dude, that’s seriously no way to treat a girl!”
The foreign voice that drifts into the alleyway seems to startle not only yourself, but the man in front of you. His grip loosens on you slightly as he cranes his neck to look amongst the shadows.
“Well, anyone, for that matter.”
The stranger’s voice is youthful, most likely belonging to a boy around your age. It is oddly calm and nonchalant despite the situation that is unfolding before him, and then he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. As your eyes flicker open, you follow the source of the sound towards the blocked end of the alleyway still veiled by the darkness. Had this person always been there or had they really materialized out of thin air?
“Who’s there?” The man in front of you grunts. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“And why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?” The voice retaliates. He pauses as if he is waiting for an answer and then he is speaking up again. “Let me guess. You’re gonna tell me to screw off or something right? God, you guys are always so predictable and yet you never make it any easier for me.”
The man scowls, his hand drops from your throat as he turns to the looming darkness and hisses gruffly, “Mind your own business, punk━”
Before he can carry on, something flings out of the darkness and lands on the man’s face in a blink of an eye. He immediately lets go of you, grunting in confusion and flailing his arms about. As you drop to the ground, you subsequently bang your head hard against the brick wall and groan in pain, though you’re able to catch a glimpse of what the man is trying so desperately to claw off his face before your vision goes blurry. It is something thin and wispy, made of silver glistening strands that resembles, oddly enough, a spider’s web. As the man fumbles into the darkness, arms swinging clenched fists wildly about.
“Over here!” The boy taunts. “Missed me again! You know, you’re not very good at this.”
You struggle to climb to your feet, clutching your head in agony as you squint into the darkness. From where you are, you can only see the man fumbling around uselessly, the other figure still concealed by the darkness. As you attempt to get a better look, you hear the boy grunt in pain and catch sight of the man just after he had swung his fist into this person’s face, while his other hand had successfully been able to finally rip the mesh off his face.
“Okay, ow, that hurt,” The boy admits.
But before he or the man can continue on, you’re springing forward, mustering all your strength and courage into one impromptu movement. You grab your bag that had been discarded on the ground, heavy with a few school textbooks you had brought with you; you clutch it tightly, race up behind the man, and swing it hard at his head. His actions come to a sudden halt, he staggers forward, and immediately collapses to the ground, unconscious. Then finally, plunged into the darkness of the alleyway, you slowly look up to face the eye of your helper and are met, instead, with a flash of red and blue.
Standing before you, adorned head to toe in a tight suit is none other than the mysterious masked vigilante. He’s much taller in person than you expected, and much more muscular too, though with his face hidden beyond a mask, you can’t say much else about him. Instead, you gasp as you stare up at him in astonishment.
“Hey, nice hit!” he says, an apparent grin in his voice. “That was pretty awesome━”
“It’s you!” You exclaim.
“Me?” He seems confused at first but then he’s straightening up. “Oh, right, right. It’s me! Just, uh, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Rescuing damsels in distress is kinda my thing.”
Your amusement for the mysterious hero is quick to fade, however, in wake of the throbbing pain on your head. It makes you aware of the fact that your knees have since grown weak, your mind spinning. When you take a step forward, you are suddenly faint and stumble over your feet, tripping to the ground. Before you can hit the pavement, the boy swoops forward and into view, catching you swiftly in his arms and holding you up.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he says. “Oh man, we gotta get you home. Can you tell me where you live?”
You can feel your lips moving in response, most likely informing him foolishly of the apartment complex you live in. Though this boy has been noted on performing acts of bravery and fighting against crime, he’s still a stranger ━ and, even more warily so, a complete enigma. There was no reason to trust him, despite him helping you only minutes ago, but in that moment you are weak and exhausted. In the very next second, you find yourself slipping off into a deep and tranquil slumber.
When you awaken the next morning, you are first greeted to the bright light of the sun that licks at your cheeks and warms your face. You note the soft plush of the mattress under you, the soft breeze that ruffles your hair, and when you pry your eyes open, you find yourself laying on the bed in your room; your window opened. Just when you begin to think the night before was all just some elaborate dream, you feel the slight tinge of pain in the back of your head and, despite it all ━ despite the pain and despite the memory strange man who had followed you ━ you smile softly at the thought of the boy in red and blue.
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The next time you see Jungkook is on that Thursday.
Truthfully, you’ve been eager to find him around campus if only to tell him about your encounter with New York’s masked hero. You hadn’t told many people, safe for your closest friends, though you’re keen to see Jungkook’s reaction as you’ve learned he’s a fan of this spider guy. Wednesday is the only day you have a class with him and so as soon as the boring lecture for your anthropology class is finished, you spot him striding casually out the door and catch up to him just as he’s walking down the smooth pavement of the campus sidewalk.
Word, however, seems to spread fast amongst the friends in your year and whereas you only told one of your friends on that previous Friday about your encounter in the alleyway, Jungkook has already heard the story through misconstrued words at least a dozen times, through whisperings of people that aren’t even your friends. It’s a novelty, apparently, to witness something like this strange masked man. But, naturally, Jungkook is rather surprised when he hears your familiar dulcet voice calling his name.
“Jungkook!”
He whirls around to face you and smiles as he sees your figure walking towards him, adorned in leggings and a baggy school shirt to match the evening’s warm weather. You’re smiling at him, almost as radiantly as the sun that it almost quite literally blinds him as he doesn’t seem to notice the other girl walking just in front of him. He bumps into her before he can step out of the way and hastily apologizes before turning back to you only to see you giggling.
“What can I do for you on this fine evening?” he asks as you approach.
“I’ve been meaning to find you since Friday,” You say. “You’ll never believe what happened on Thursday.”
“I’ve been hearing it all week since then.”
“You have? Who told you?”
This causes Jungkook to chuckle lightly. He hikes the usual one strap of his backpack further up his shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “Y/N, everyone’s been talking about it. I guess no one can keep their mouth shut anymore. So tell me: what was this Spider-Man guy like?”
A small smile stretches across your face at the name, your teeth instinctively biting down on your lower lip in an attempt to hide in. Was it just Jungkook or did he see the slightest of pink pinch at your cheeks? When you look back up at him, your eyes are shimmering.
“Honestly?” You reply sheepishly. “I think I’m crushing on him pretty hard.”
Jungkook nearly chokes. When he speaks next, his voice is slightly higher than usual, so he clamps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and tries again. “You don’t say? He must be a real charmer then. Do you, uh, even know him well enough to crush on him?”
“It’s strange,” You remark. “You’re right ━ I don’t even know him and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since then. I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?”
“What even happened?” Jungkook asks.
“Remember that guy you scared away Thursday night? I got into some trouble with him━ but don’t worry!” You throw in the last few words when you see Jungkook’s brows scrunch in concern. “Spider-Man came before anything could happen. He saved me. I owe him my life at this point.”
Jungkook notes the dreamlike tone in your voice and when he glances down at you, you’re smiling blissfully down at your scuffed Converse shoes. It’s mesmerizing to see you so content and jubilant, beaming like the sun once more that hangs in the clear cerulean blue sky. He inhales a deep breath of fresh air, smells the wafting nodes of freshly ground coffee somewhere in the distance, and exhales slowly.
Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he looks over at you once more and asks, “Hey, um, so for that anthro project we have to do ━ I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to be partners for it?”
Your eyes light up at the proposition and you nod enthusiastically. “Sure thing. I’d love that, actually. Maybe we can meet up this Sunday to plan everything out and see who’s doing what?”
“Hey, Y/N!”
Just then, you hear the familiar sound of your friend calling your name. You glance ahead where your eyes land on a group of girls sitting on a nearby bench and you wave at them. They gesture you over and you skip ahead a few paces, turning to look at Jungkook. He smiles as he nods.
“Sorry,” You apologize sheepishly. “But Sunday at the café at noon?”
“Sounds like a date.” Jungkook reddens suddenly at the way he words his thoughts and stammers to correct himself. “Not a date! Work date. Uh━”
“It’s a date,” You giggle. “See you!”
Then you’re rushing off to join your friends, leaving Jungkook alone once more. He sighs in your wake, shakes his head at himself, and grudgingly walks away.
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That night you can hardly sleep.
You blame it on the stress that comes with being a student, constantly under the strain of a multitude of assignments and upcoming tests. When the clock strikes half past one in the morning just as you are finishing typing up the last sentence of a seven page essay on your laptop (seated at your desk, where you have been for the past few hours), you decide you need a break before you go absolutely insane. Shrugging on a simple cardigan, you tiptoe out of your room, down the corridor to the elevator, ignoring the way your joints that have stiffened in place stretch in a satisfying pop. You’re stumbling out and onto the roof of your apartment building in no less than five minutes, emerging out into the open night.
It isn’t terribly cold and, after inhaling a deep breath of the refreshing air, you sigh in relief and you walk to the concrete barrier at the very edge of the roof and lean against it. Gazing out at the vibrant and lively concrete and glass buildings and skyscrapers alike that build the city of New York, with each window illuminated by a warm glow of light, seems to give you a sense of peace. You can hear the hum of cars, a distant sound of sirens, the occasional honk, and the thump of bass from somewhere in the distance to your left, all amassing into the rhythmic pulse of the city; across from you, in the building complex on the other side of the street, you can see silhouetted figures of perhaps caffeinated students or late night lovers. The sky is empty, blank and dull as it stretches on over the entirety of the city, but you can see the moon, brightly shining in all its glory, bold and proud amongst the artificial light.
A slight breeze disrupts the stillness of the roof, rustles your hair, followed by the looming feeling of not being alone. You hear the sound of footsteps landing softly on the ground and turn around slowly, casting your gaze across the seemingly empty rooftop. But you see it ━ or rather, him ━ in the shadows near the door a bit further off. It’s strange how calm you are in the moment but the presence doesn’t exactly feel intimidating to you ━ especially when you notice the flash of red and blue.
“You again?” You ask humorously.
“Sorry if I scared you.” The voice that carries with the wind towards you is familiar, youthful. “Definitely not my intention.”
“I’m not scared,” You say. “If I can recall amongst your many gritty crime fighting, you saved a cat stuck in a tree a while back.”
The boy chuckles. “Ah, well, just all a part of the job.”
“What are you doing here?” You take a step toward him and hear him retreat further into the darkness.
“Well, you’re probably going to call me weird and insane,” he says, “but I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it when I dropped you off at your place.”
“You’re not stalking me now, are you?”
“No way!” he says. “I was just, y’know, in the neighbourhood. I was actually about to call it a night when I passed your apartment and then I saw you up here. Must be fate, huh?”
“Fate sure is weird,” You muse pensively, pursing your lips. You pause, squinting your eyes into the darkness. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me that night and bringing me back. Is there anyway I can repay you?”
“Repay me? Oh, no, no!” he says. “That’s not what this is all about, I promise. What I do is for the city and for the people. I can sleep better at night knowing thugs like that guy are being taken care of properly.”
“That’s a pretty commendable thing to do,” You say. “You gotta be pretty brave to put yourself in danger each night.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
There’s a smirk in his voice that stretches his words into a confident and smug drawl. You, in turn, smile bashfully. You look down at your shoes and then back up at the shadows.
“Can you step out of the dark?” You ask. “I want to see you.”
“Ah, but then that’ll ruin the mystique,” he points out. “And where’s the fun in that?”
You shake your head at him, pearly white teeth gnawing down on your lower lip to hide the smile that tugs at your mouth. You pull your cardigan tighter around your torso, ignoring the distant sound of a wailing siren.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he says. “I have to go but it was a pleasure meeting you━ uh, what was your name again?”
“I never told you,” You say. “And if I do, it’ll ruin the mystique, won’t it? Where’s the fun in that?”
He laughs into the night, a sound so genuine and amiable. “Fair enough. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, despite the terrible circumstances. Try to stay out of trouble, okay? And get some sleep!”
You can hear him moving, as if preparing to leave. You step forward, mouth opening to stop him, but then he is gone, the sound of feet leaping into the air the last thing you hear from him. By the time you rush to the other side of the roof and look around frantically for any sight of him, you spot the mysterious vigilante as a tiny speck soaring from building to building. You smile as you watch him disappear amongst the horizon, bleeding into the glow of lights until he is gone, becoming one with the city altogether.
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The days pass in a very typical blur.
Sunday comes and goes much too fast where both you and Jungkook work diligently for a few hours at the café before the rest of the week goes by. You hardly see Jungkook except for at night, as always past 9 p.m., when he stumbles wearily into the café and plops down in his usual seat. And, with the days passing as usual, there are still the consistent reports of sightings of this mysterious Spider-Man. Though you seem to go about your routinely oblivious days, you are all Jungkook is able to think about. You are all he usually thinks about these days, anyway, and all he is thinking about that very Wednesday when he’s supposed to be hanging out with Taehyung.
It isn’t uncommon to see Jungkook with Taehyung around campus. They have, after all, been best friends since the moment they met in their small daycare they attended together. Taehyung is more than accustomed with Jungkook’s habits and knows the boy in and out, including every secret and every crush he’s ever had (which, for the most part, has been you). That Thursday afternoon they are both sitting at the park just across from campus where most students from the school spend their time. Jungkook’s perched on the edge of the large concrete water fountain in the middle of the bustling meadow, with Taehyung reclining on his back, basking in the sun with a bag of chips on his stomach. They both spot you walking by with a friend and wave at Jungkook which causes Taehyung to roll his eyes.
“Dude,” he sighs, exasperated. “Just ask her out already. She already said she’s crushing on you.”
Jungkook looks down at his friend and shakes his head. “No, she said she’s crushing on Spider-Man. Not me.”
Taehyung, who was in the middle of shoving a handful of chips in his mouth, stops suddenly. He pushes himself up, nearly dropping the bag of chips, eyes wide as he stares at Jungkook in utter disbelief.
“Are you kidding me, dude?” He asks incredulously. “You’re the same person, you idiot.”
“But she doesn’t know that,” Jungkook explains calmly. “As far as she knows, Spider-Man is this cool dude and I’m just… I’m just me. Jungkook. Boring and not charming.”
“So then tell her the truth,” Taehyung says. “Y’know, use yourself as your own wingman.”
As he shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, Jungkook shakes his head once more. He’s already thought of this idea plenty of times before but it’s not as easy as it seems. The responsibility that comes with putting on that mask each night is followed by even greater risks for the people he’s around. Telling you the truth could only end in one way, anyway.
“I can’t do that,” Jungkook says. “What if I tell her and she’s let down?”
Taehyung would shake his head disapprovingly at his friend this time and mumble something along the lines of, “You think too much.”
And while that may be true in Jungkook’s case, Taehyung just wouldn’t understand. There is a reason Taehyung is the only person who knows about Jungkook’s secret and he is already endangering the life of his friend. To tell anyone else would only result in a much more terrible outcome for not only the people around him, but Jungkook himself. Still, though, as Jungkook settles back on the edge of the fountain and looks in the direction of the path you had vanished along, there is an inkling of a voice in the back of his mind that nags him, urges him, to tell you.
Jungkook sighs. He finds it ironic that anytime he puts on the red mask and flings himself into perilous danger, he is always confident, never once wavering, and yet when he is just himself, just another mundane passerby, that same heart of steel that fuels his will and spirit suddenly pales in comparison.
If only he could be so brave without that mask.
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On Friday evening well into the night when what little stars you can see in the polluted sky begins to blend with the glowing light from building windows as far as the eye can see you find yourself at an overcrowded and clamorous party. You had been more than content with spending the start of your weekend not working but, upon entering the party, you find yourself not nearly enjoying the time as well as you had hoped you would. You’ve long since lost sight of your friends and the guy standing in the corner of the living room who had been eyeing you for most of the night had most certainly not helped with your mood ━ and, if anything, turned you off from drinking.
Albeit still slightly buzzed from the few drinks you had earlier been bestowed in the quintessential red solo cup that defines every high school and college party you’ve been to, you stumble out onto the balcony of one of the rooms for a breath of fresh air and are startled to find you aren’t alone when you spot the figure of a young man leaning against the railing.
“Oh, shit, sorry. Didn’t know anyone was out here━”
As the figure turns around, you are relieved and thrilled to see it’s Jungkook. You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut, and smile up at him with a dainty hand on your hip. A look of recognition dawns on his face at the sight of you, his own lips tugging into a friendly grin.
“That’s okay,” he says. “Feel free to join me on the balcony of escaped party attendees ━ because I assume that’s what you’re doing? Escaping?”
You push yourself forward to the railing, standing beside him as he turns back around to face the city. “I just needed a break from it all. You? I gotta say I’m pleasantly surprised to see you here.”
He flashes you a sheepish smile, resting his arms atop the railing and leaning forward. “Exactly. Parties aren’t really my scene. My friend, Taehyung, dragged me out here but this balcony seems to be my favourite place.”
“Well, if it means anything,” You tell him, “I’m glad you came.”
When you look at Jungkook, you find him already gazing at you, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. His carob eyes crinkle with the smile on his face and he finds himself still staring at you even long after you have turned away to stare up at the sky. It’s a surprisingly warm night, though you silently thank yourself for throwing on the denim jacket you’re wearing earlier in the day whenever a cool breeze breaks through the city.
“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” You say after a while. “That we can’t see the stars from the city. That’s why I like camping. Star-gazing and watching the sunrise are two of my favourite things. It kind of keeps me humble in a way.”
“That’s an interesting way of thinking about that,” Jungkook says. “Sometimes I get so carried away by being in the city; it’s kind of nice just to slow things down once in a while.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” You crane your neck to cast a steady gaze across the towering buildings in the near distance. “The city can be pretty beautiful, too, though.”
“You think so?”
“Of course,” Your eyes twinkle playfully at a sudden thought that seems to warm your face. “And some of the people help make it beautiful. Like that spider guy. What he’s doing for the city is incredible.”
“Ah, right. Spider-Man.” The words leave Jungkook in a small exhale. “You must really like him, huh?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I can name a few. Like the police.”
“They’re just scared of him because he’s doing their job better than they ever could.”
Jungkook chuckles lightly. He shakes his head as he looks down at his clasped hands and the calluses on his fingers from past tribulations. It’s silent again, in which time the thump of bass from the party ensuing behind you two fills the air, followed by a burst of vigorous chanting and cheering from within.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks suddenly, his voice timid.
“Go ahead.”
Jungkook pauses, thinking. He seems to struggle with forming his thoughts into words as he remains silent for a second too long. “Okay, let’s say I know this person really important to me, and let’s say I have this thing ━ this equally as important thing ━ that I really want to tell them. The thing is, I can’t just do that because if I do, I’m afraid that this person will be let down. What do you think I should do?”
You’re quiet as you ponder his words, looking pensively down at the city below.
“Well,” You hum slowly, “what’s the point in hiding behind a fake front the whole time? It’s kind of like hiding behind a mask your whole life, right? And I think life is too short for that because, before you know it, it’ll be too late. What if you don’t tell this person and you end up regretting it for the rest of your life? I don’t know. Sometimes I think that you just meet the right person in life who’s worth that risk.”
Jungkook turns to look at you and suddenly your eyes meet in a steady, thoughtful gaze. His own stare softens at whatever sort of thoughts flood his mind and you wonder if his eyes have always been that shimmering. His tousled dark brown locks flitter slightly in the breeze, his pink lips parted ever so slightly. You open your mouth to speak, uttering his name in a euphonious whisper.
“Jungkook, I━”
But your voice is cut off abruptly by the influx sound of wailing sirens down below that convey some sort of grim situation unfolding somewhere in the formidable darkness of the night. Both you and Jungkook press yourselves over the railing, squinting down at the crowded streets below just in time to see a flash of blinking red lights and a mass of both police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. From somewhere in the background from within the party, you can hear a voice exclaiming, “Dude, there’s a fire around the corner from here! The whole street is blocked off.”
“No way. What the hell happened?” Another voice asks.
You exchange a wary glance with Jungkook before slipping back into the party. A small group has formed around the t.v. in the living room, on which is playing the local news and showcasing a burning apartment building, the vicious orange flames of which billow out of opened windows and all but consume the top floor as clouds of gray and black smoke invade the night sky. There’s a reporter talking fast into the camera, describing in detail what had happened to the building on a nearby street, but your eyes can only stay fixated on the monstrous flames. You don’t realize Taehyung has somehow found both you and his friend and is standing behind the other boy, watching the news unfold before him. Unbeknownst to you, his stare flickers nervously to Jungkook and then━
“Shit,” Jungkook curses suddenly. “I gotta go.”
You turn to look at him curiously. “Go where? It’s midnight on a Friday.”
“I completely forgot I had to pick my aunt up from the subway,” he says. “She works the late night shifts and I can’t let her walk alone in the dark like this. I’ll see you both later! Let me know what happens with the fire.”
Taehyung, who seems more than accustomed to Jungkook’s abrupt pardon of his presence, nods. “Will do.”
The boy is already a few feet away from you, rushing toward the front door of the room, but you stop him before he can slip out of your reach entirely.
“Wait, Jungkook!” You call out. He spins around to look at you almost immediately, a look of panic on his face. “Don’t forget we have to meet up at the library on Sunday to work on the project.”
“Got it,” he says, raising his two forefingers to his forehead in a mock salute. He turns back around and begins bounding towards the door, giving you two one last wave. “See you later!”
The door slams shut behind him and the party, despite the group crowded around the t.v., carries on in a cacophonous sound of drunken yelling and dumb music, completely and utterly oblivious. You let out a sigh as you turn back to the t.v., noting Taehyung’s presence still beside you. He takes a satisfying sip of whatever beverage is occupying the red cup in his hand and nods.
“That’s Jungkook for you,” he says. His voice is a tired sigh, dispirited almost, as he thinks of the boy that has been his friend since freshman year of highschool. Just before he turns away, you hear him muttering, “Always putting others before him.”
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You don’t see Jungkook that Sunday.
Whether or not he had entirely blown you off or had simply forgotten, you wait and wait in complete silence in the school library for nearly three hours as every call and every text you send to his phone goes otherwise unnoticed or ignored. It is entirely unlike Jungkook to completely vanish and though you want to be mad, you are more disappointed than anything else. You spend your time at a table by yourself, books and papers sprawled out before you, as you try to work diligently on the last piece of writing you need for the assignment to be complete whilst trying to not let your eyes wander to the time on the clock hanging on the wall opposite you but to no avail.
In a corner above the front desk, you see a t.v. propped on the wall that plays the silent image of the news as they recall the events from that Friday at the burning building. Fortunately, that spider guy had arrived before any casualties could happen and you watch, for the third time since Friday, as the recording footage shows the red and blue hero swinging defiantly into the wall of fire and pulling various residents from the fire. A duo of girls sitting next to you croons dreamily over the masked man, especially as they witness him emerging from the fire with a small and unscathed Corgi dog in his hands that, you admit, is rather admirable.
On Wednesday night, you find yourself stuck in the sparkling confinements of the café bound to the six hour shift you were in the midst of completing. It’s surprisingly busy for a day in the middle of the week, though you assume that’s only because each customer is in a rush to seek refuge from the surprisingly cold evening. You hadn’t even been thinking about Jungkook when he makes himself known in the café some time after 9 p.m. You hear the bell ring above the door, feel a short gust of shocking wind, before it shuts behind him. When you look up instinctively to greet the newcomer and lay your eyes on the boy, your words fall short.
You watch as he stumbles forward, his feet practically dragging behind him in worn up Converse shoes. He looks exhausted ━ even more so than usual ━ and judging by his dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes and the way he seems to walk in a daze as if he is in another world, you assume he hasn’t slept in a while. He still hauls his backpack with one strap slung over his shoulder that he drops lazily to the ground beside a table before he plops himself down into the seat with a groan in one swift motion. What’s most strange are the blossoming bruises on his neck and the fresh cut on the highest point of his left cheekbone.
You hate that you’re so weak for that boy; that even though he completely ignored you, you still pity him. Wondering what sorts of trouble he’s been finding himself in lately, you pour him a cup of steaming black coffee and walk towards his table. He hardly even notices you as his head is buried in his folded arms atop the table, though he peeks up past his bangs when you slide the coffee beside him.
“I’d hate to see the other guy,” You hum.
His eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pushes himself up, raking a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. “Y/N━”
“Where were you, Jungkook?” You ask sternly, suddenly. “On Sunday? I waited for you for over three hours. I called you and texted you and you completely ignored me. You could have at least gotten back to me. I had to finish the rest of the assignment by myself.”
His brow creases with concern, his stare softening apologetically. He leans forward, suddenly helpless.
“I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I━I didn’t mean to━ Something came up.”
“Whatever, Jungkook,” You sigh. “It’s fine. I can’t stay and chat but I’ll have you know I already handed the assignment in online. You’re welcome. Oh, and the coffee’s on the house. You look like crap.”
You spin on your heel and march away to help another customer before Jungkook can even try to talk to you. He watches as you slip from his grasp, a frown scrunching up your face that is forced to soften as you approach another table. He collapses against his chair and groans inwardly, rubbing his hand over his aching and swollen face. He knows you’re mad at him but he can’t quite tell if you’ll stay like that for long. He doesn’t blame you anyway, but he couldn’t just tell you where he had gone or what had happened. Could he?
It’s much to his dismay that you don’t talk to him the next day, or on Tuesday, or on Wednesday, or on Thursday. He tries to find you around campus but he is always too late and, instead, finds you slipping away from him each time. He pops into the café a few nights and though you work both nights, it’s still much too busy to actually talk to you and so he, doing what he does best, falls asleep at the table as he silently broods. Whether or not it’s your anger purposely driving you further from him or simply life intervening, Jungkook wants nothing more than to apologize ━ if he can even get close enough to you to do so.
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Finding yourself on the rooftop of your apartment building isn’t uncommon. Most of your free time is spent up there, either watching the night sky or gazing at the busy city under a cerulean blue sky and golden sun. That Friday night is no different. With no homework and no social gathering to devote yourself to, you sneak off to the roof and position yourself in just a spot where you can see the towering buildings of each borough in each direction you cast your gaze. You would have been content falling asleep up there, with nothing but the sound of the distant hum of cars to lull you and the view of the moon and window lights that act as the metropolis’s stars.
You all but lose track of time, unaware of whether or not you have been there for minutes or hours but you don’t entirely mind. You would be lying, too, if you denied that there was some sort of inkling of hope in you that hoped maybe you would see him again. That is why when you hear the soft plop of feet dropping to the ground moments later, you are not at all startled by the sudden presence, though you are astounded by his arrival, as if on cue. You don’t even need him to speak to know who it is and when you feel the smile ghost along your lips, there is a moment of pause where you question your own sanity for being so happy to see this masked and mysterious man. But he isn’t at all a mystery at this point when you feel as if you’ve acquainted yourself with him well enough.
“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” The voice that drifts through the shadows of the roof is familiar, gentle. “It’s dark. Who knows who could come up here?”
“Yeah,” You snort. “Wouldn’t want any strangers sneaking up on me ━ or masked vigilantes who seem to be following me.”
You turn to look at him but are greeted with nothing except emptiness. He lingers somewhere in the darkness and you squint your eyes, desperately trying to spot him. He laughs, the sound so silvery and smooth like honey.
“Someone’s following you?” he replies tauntingly. “Do I have to deal with them again?”
“Why are you always hiding in the dark?”
The sudden question seems to cause him to hesitate. It’s silent before you hear his voice wander over to you.
“To add to the mystique?” he says.
“Now that’s suspicious. Maybe I should call the police on you.”
“They would never be able to catch me.”
“Someone’s cocky,” You take a step toward the darkness, in the direction of the sound of his voice. “Did the fame get to you already?”
You hear him take a step back from you and it, subsequently, causes you to linger. You wait before stubbornly pushing yourself forward once more.
“What fame? People want to lock me up.”
“And most people are in love with you. I overheard a few girls gushing over you saving that dog from that burning building the other day,” You giggle. “Does it mean anything to you?”
“Ah, well,” You can hear the grin in his voice, can see the silhouette of his figure not too far from you, “I gotta admit the attention is pretty nice. But no one knows who I am without this mask so it doesn’t really matter.”
“How does that make you feel?”
One step forward, another backward. You pause; at this rate, you’ll have chased him all the way to the other side of the roof.
“I don’t mind. It keeps me humble,” he replies. “But it also stops me a lot of the time, y’know? With this mask on, I feel invincible; with it off, I feel useless. But someone pretty important to me once told me that life is too short to constantly hide behind a mask.”
A wide, genuine smile stretches across your face. You take another step forward and this time he stands still. From where you are, you can see the tall and lean figure, adorned in the signature tight red and blue suit.
“That’s pretty smart of them to say.”
“She is pretty admirable. Much braver than I could ever be without this mask.”
He turns around from you before you can reach him. You watch as he casually strides forward a few paces to the barrier behind him, which he props his hands against to lean on. He seems to be lost in thought, perhaps struggling with some sort of inner turmoil. You tiptoe in suit, cautious as you approach him. You can see the muscles that strain from beneath his suit, the heave and fall of his chest.
“Can I know your name?” Your voice is a gentle whisper that carries to him with the wind. “Your real name?”
When he turns around to face you once more, you’re standing only a few feet away from him. You take another step forward, closing the short distance between the two of you and are made aware of how much taller he really is. The way he towers over you is almost comforting, familiar, that no emotionless red mask could cause you to stray. He’s so much more different up close in that suit. He hesitates before he forces himself to speak.
“I think,” he pauses. He swallows thickly, attempting to subdue the quickening race of his heart as he clamps his fingers into his sweaty palms. “I think you already know my name.”
This seems to pique your interest. Quirking a brow and cocking your head to the side, you stare up at the masked face that gazes back down at you. You aren’t entirely sure what compels you to do so, as it could be a complete disaster and not at all what you are expecting, but you slowly, so very slowly, reach up with your hands to grasp gingerly at his face. The red fabric beneath your fingertips is soft and as your digits brush lightly over his covered cheekbones, he hardly moves. For some reason, you can feel your heart hammering against your feeble chest, can hear it in your ears in tandem with the sound of passing traffic down below. His heart is beating just as fast, though he thinks it nearly stops when he feels your fingers begin to gently pull at the neck of his mask, sliding it upward.
The first poke of tanned skin has your heart quickening, your breath hitching in your throat. You tug the mask the rest of the way off and, finally, step back to look at the mysterious masked hero known as Spider-Man.
Jungkook.
It’s Jungkook.
The familiar boy stands before you, his hair a disheveled mess from the mask, his doe eyes even wider now in timid fear as he looks down at you. Everything is him, from his luscious pink lips, to the freckle on his neck, the piercings in his ears, that tiny scar he’s had since he was a child on his cheek. The city lights and moon illuminate him from behind and he seems nervous as he anticipates a reaction but you are much too busy admiring him. Your fingers trace delicately over the fresh scar on his face that he had brandished at the café only a few nights ago. A breath of satisfaction slips past your parted lips and then you’re laughing silently to yourself.
The boy looks dumbfounded at first, and then he quirks a brow. “What’s so funny?”
“I knew it,” You shake your head at nothing in particular, or perhaps the way you continue to giggle.
Jungkook suddenly looks shocked, though he instantly seems to relax. He studies the smile that stretches across your cheeks in awe, brightening your face in all its glory. “How did you know?”
“Well, you’re not exactly that smooth, Jungkook,” You grin. “The late nights coming into the café, always scratched up and always tired as if you’ve ran all over the city; always getting jumpy when you hear police sirens ━ like the night at the party. Not to mention that one time at the café when the news was on and they were talking about a robbery at the bank and hostages being held and you ran right out of there only for Spider-Man to show up on the scene minutes later. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?”
He can’t help the laugh that escapes him, a joyous sound of content. He leans against the palm of your hand that is cradling the side of his face with the scar.
“Right,” he sighs. “All very suspicious.”
His stare locks with yours in a steady gaze and neither of you can turn away. His eyes sparkle like the stars in the sky, lingering with it a sense of hope and content. He is mesmerizing, with the city he devotes his time to saving in the horizon beyond him. It’s near impossible to look away, but why would you want to? It happens much like a blink of an eye, a frail beat of your heart; it comes with the passing of a car whizzing by on the streets down below and is as much startling as the sudden breeze that sends chills down your spine.
He begins to lean forward ━ or maybe that was you? Your eyes flutter shut, your anticipation held with a deep breath, until finally your lips meet with his though you hardly have time to relish in it. Almost as soon as your lips touch, he’s pulling away quickly. He doesn’t move too far and his mouth lingers just over yours. His eyes remain fixated on the curl of your lips for a moment too long before he rips them away to meet your hazy gaze.
“Wait,” he hums. “You━ You said you were crushing on Spider-Man. Does that mean you knew this whole time and━ and like me?”
The question is so like Jungkook; so innocent and silly and genuine that it causes a sweet giggle to bubble at your lips. He’s always been so oblivious to these kinds of things and so maybe that’s what pushes you to kiss him next. Your lips lock for a second time and, though it is just as fleeting, you note with joy the softness of his mouth as it folds over yours. You part from him with a breathless gasp, your nose brushing lightly against his as a smile stretches across your face.
“What do you think, bugboy?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, a playful taunt that makes Jungkook smile wide.
He kisses you this time, slow and passionate as if attempting to pour every single one of his emotions and thoughts for you into the single intimate action. His hands grasp at either side of your face, carefully pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss and you, instinctively, melt against his broad chest. Your fingers trail up the lean muscle of his arms to twine in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging with yearning. His hands fall to your waist, enveloping you in his body, and when he parts from you, he rests his forehead against yours.
“Can I show you something?”
You nod. His eyes light up and then he’s jumping up onto the cement barrier behind him, turning around to look at you. You gasp from the sudden movement, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him quite literally standing on the edge of a building only to remind yourself he’s Spider-Man. He’s done plenty more reckless things than this. He holds his hand out, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
There’s no hesitation as you answer him with another firm nod. “Of course. Always.”
“Then take my hand,” he says. “I’ll never do anything to harm you, you know that.”
You do know that. Jungkook wouldn’t hurt a fly; he’s too good and precious for the world you live in and he says yes far too often to people who most likely don’t deserve it, but he knows when to stand up for not only himself but others as well. You are just one of the few he cares for wholeheartedly and you know that.
You reach out carefully and place your hand in his surprisingly cold and large ones. His fingers wrap around yours as he helps you up onto the barrier, holding you closely toward him.
You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and put every ounce of your trust into this single, courageous boy ━ and you let yourself fall with him.
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You’re roused awake by the sound of light tapping against your bedroom window.
It startles you at first, causing you to jolt upright into a sitting position as you look around frantically at your empty and dark room; the only light comes from the city life and the moon outside, shedding a warm glow onto the floor before it. For a moment, you think you had just dreamt the noise but then you hear it again, low and near. You crane your neck to look and first see a shadow but, as the figure shifts into view, you’re able to see the familiar young man in red and blue. Your heart leaps in your chest and suddenly you’re scrambling off your feet, throwing yourself at the window to throw it open.
The night Jungkook had admitted to being Spider-Man and jumped up onto the edge of the roof, holding his hand out to you in a silent question of trust, he leaves you with a night that you swear you will cherish forever. Wary of where he will go but entirely consenting of his spontaneity, he surprises you by carrying you throughout the city, swinging from building to building in an extraordinary feat that feels as if you’re flying; and, as if that hadn’t been a big enough thrilling shock, he brings you to the very top of the Empire State Building, just under the antenna. No one is there and no one can see you and, with Jungkook under the brightening sky with the view of New York stretching out into the horizon before you, you feel as if you have the whole world in the very palm of your hand.
You sit with Jungkook that night, talking, not talking, listening intently to him as he recounts the tale of how he had turned into the masked hero with his peculiar powers, and watching the sunrise from beyond the very tops of buildings and skyscrapers. There are no words to describe the breathtaking view from one of the highest points in the city, watching as the golden sun peaks over the horizon and sets the city ablaze in saturated warm hues of orange, pink, and purple, mingling together in one impressionistic masterpiece that could put even the greatest of painters to shame. The light reflects against the glass panes of windows in a mirage similar to flickering flames that never scathe the city, but instead seem to enhance the beauty it holds.
You never want the night to end but eventually it does and, when he returns you to your bedroom window with one parting kiss, it and Jungkook’s lips are all you can dream about.
A week has passed since then, in which time you’ve done nothing but find yourself growing closer with Jungkook. He’s all you’ve been able to think about these days. So, to hear him and see him at your window is enough to make butterflies form in the very pit of your stomach. You see him sitting on the fire escape just outside your window, leaning against the building looking even more exhausted than usual. Another fresh cut lines his cheek in a stripe of red though he doesn’t seem to mind much for it as he dozes off slightly. You push open the window, startling him awake, and poke your head outside. A weary smile tugs at his lips at the sight of you.
“Well, this is romantic,” You stifle the giggle that bubbles at your mouth. “Thank you for not throwing rocks at my window, Romeo. To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you at two in the morning?”
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks sheepishly. “I just wanted to see you.”
His response earns a shy smile stretching across your face. “No, you didn’t wake me,” You say with a shake of your head (though the way you comb your fingers through your mused hair tells him otherwise). “What happened to your face, Jungkook?”
He reaches up to his face, as if momentarily forgetting the cut, winces, and then drops his hand from his face. He grins wolfishly, attempting to shrug it off. “Oh, this little thing? It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. I just got caught up in a little fight but I’m fine. I swear. You really should see the other guy.”
The smug tone in his voice as he rambles on makes you stare at him in amusement. You sigh as you take a step back, saying, “Come inside. I’ll clean that for you.”
“Well, if you insist.”
He smirks as he pulls himself through the window and into your room. His eyes wander around the four walls, noting the decor that lines it, the shelves with all your personal trinkets and belongings, the clothes littered on the floor, and the empty take-out box of Chinese food that rests atop your desk. There’s a soft aroma of something sweet that smells like you ━ possibly a perfume or a soap or shampoo? ━ and it makes Jungkook’s head spin pleasantly. He asks about your day and then sits on the bed and, as you tell him about your boring classes as you rummage around your bathroom for something to clean his wound with, he smiles.
He finds your room comforting ━ or maybe he just finds your presence comforting. Either way, over time you find that this would only be a common occurrence throughout the next month. He startles you the first few times he shows up but then you begin to stay awake a little longer, waiting eagerly by the window as you wait for him to arrive. Most times he’s bruised or has small and fresh cuts, of which you either hand him an ice packet or clean the cut; sometimes he isn’t even hurt and instead claims simply that he just wanted to see you before you went to sleep. But each time he listens to you and your day, asking about yourself rather than him and no matter how hard you try to pry information out of him about what had possibly happened to him throughout his night, he swiftly brushes it off. You don’t mind either way ━ you just want to see him as much as you can, anyway.
There is one night, however, where things seem to go entirely different.
You’re curled up in bed reading a book when you hear the light tapping on your window. You’ve come to leave the window pried open slightly as you wait for him, but even so he still takes the time to knock to signal his arrival. You instantly climb to your feet, wandering over to the window and tossing it open with a flourish. As Jungkook climbs in through the small space, you note the tight suit he’s wearing is slashed at the top of his arm and both the skin underneath it and on his face is bruised and cut; other than that, and judging by the cheeky smile on his face, he seems to be ok.
You shake your head at him, smiling gingerly as you muse, “Who’s the damsel in distress now, bugboy?”
Jungkook smirks, prodding your sides with his fingers and causing you to squirm as you walk past him. “There’s no shame in needing a little help every once and awhile, right? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Sit down,” You tell him, winking up at him. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
Minutes later you return to sit by his side on the bed, cleaning his cuts as per usual and, while he has a frozen packet of peas pressed to his bruised and sore shoulder, you are busying yourself by sewing the cut in his suit with blue thread you had found in your room. In the midst of your work, perhaps you press too generously down on his recent wound, as he winces slightly and shifts on top of your bed. You crane your neck to look up at him, studying him curiously. He seems to notice your stare and quirks a brow as he looks down at you.
“What’s up?”
Your fingers stop their work on his suit and, remembering where the cut had broken his skin just slightly underneath the tear, brush lightly over the tender flesh covered in gauze. “Does it hurt?”
Jungkook shakes his head, sitting up a little straighter. “Hurt? No, no, of course not. It just, uh━ It isn’t the most pleasant. But this isn’t the worst I’ve been after a night in the suit so I can handle it.”
Your eyes study his battered face in some sort of admiration, albeit mixed with timid nervousness. What sort of things had he encountered, had he been through, that he won’t tell you?
“Are you ever afraid?” You ask gently.
“No way,” he shakes his head, but not before you spot the confident grin he flashes you. “It’s honestly nothing I can’t handle by now. It’s not so bad, either. It’s kinda weird. I mean, ever since getting bitten, I’ve found the healing process is a whole lot faster.”
Maybe he notices the lingering uneasiness in your eyes, the way you seem to doubt him. He reaches out with his fingers to gingerly brush against the side of your face in a swift flourish as he tilts your head a little higher. He smiles something warm that makes your heart melt as you lean your face against the palm of his calloused hand. To avoid the prying stare he gives you, you smile lightly and shake your head, attempting to change the subject.
“Dunno, bugboy. Are there any perks to this job?”
Jungkook snorts as you finish sewing his suit. As you discard the needle and leftover thread, he says, “There are. Like, for instance, knowing the city is a little safer. Then there’s the fact that Spider-Man seems to have a lot of admirers…”
“I thought you said it doesn’t matter anyway because no one knows who you are.”
“Well, there is you,” he says. “And I gotta say you’re a pretty good perk.”
A blush tinges your cheeks as you sit across from him. Your eyes flicker down the suit that adorns him and you try to bite back the lighthearted snicker that bubbles at your chest. “I was gonna say a perk is this tight suit. At least, for me it is. Your ass has never looked more fantastic.”
Jungkook suddenly bursts out into laughter, throwing his head back. When he looks back at you, his hand finds the side of your face once more and pulls you towards him. With your lips hovering just over his, he mumbles something, anything, just for the sake of responding despite already being lost in you.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then you’re kissing him.
You’ve come to find that Jungkook’s lips are entirely irresistible and the more you kiss him, the more you wonder why you hadn’t confessed to him earlier. He’s gentle as he lets his lips fold over yours, mouth dancing with mouth in a passionate yearning. But there’s a certain type of underlying insatiable hunger that seems to wash over both you and him and fast. Your fingers rake up the side of his face and tangle in his messy locks and soon he’s pulling you onto the bed, onto him. You instinctively straddle his lap, craning your neck so as to deepen the kiss, never once breaking apart for air. But something seems to happen, something that startles Jungkook so deeply. Perhaps it’s the way you grasp his hair a little tighter, the way he heard you gasp when he bites down gently on the side of your jaw, the way your hips fit over his; or perhaps it’s the way you tug off your shirt in an attempt to get closer to him, displaying to him the plain white bra you’re wearing that all culminate into something more. He knows where this is going, you know where this is going ━ and though Jungkook would want nothing more than to carry on, he’s reminded of a terrifying and prominent thought that has always haunted him the moment he made that mask.
You feel the way he tenses beneath you and, in the next quick second, he’s pulling apart from you and you, so dazed and lost, gasping for air, stare down at him dumbfounded.
“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” You ask. “Did I hurt you? Is your arm okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says weakly.
You grin as you press another kiss to his throat, mumbling into his neck, “Good, then let’s━”
“No.”
“What?”
You sit back on his lap suddenly, staring at him with a flushed face. Your hair is mussed messily, a red bruise blossoms on your jawline that Jungkook had graced you with, and one strap of your bra hangs daintily over your shoulder and Jungkook can’t help but notice how utterly sexy you look. He groans inwardly, tearing his gaze to look up at you. He swallows thickly, wincing at the bright and innocent twinkle in your eyes.
“We━” he pauses and then says, “We can’t do this.”
You quirk a brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says slowly, carefully, “we can’t do this. I’m━ I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was thinking but I should have stopped this sooner.”
“Stop what?” Your voice is weak, small. You know what he’s referring to but you don’t want to believe it just yet.
Fuck, I can’t do this, Jungkook curses to himself. If he had just stayed away from you from the beginning, this wouldn’t even be happening. He wouldn’t be about to hurt you or himself.
“Us,” he whispers. “There can’t be an us, Y/N.”
Your brows knit together in confusion but your eyes are wide with fear. “What are you talking about? How can there not be an us? I thought━ I thought you wanted this.”
When he hesitates to respond, you’re quick to slide off of his lap, standing to your feet. Suddenly you’re panicking, embarrassed. He sees the way your lips are pulled tightly in a thin line, the way you rake your hands through your hair, mumbling, “Oh my god,” as you search for a shirt. Jungkook springs to his feet, grasping onto your waist but you easily slither out of his reach, clutching your shirt to your chest. To you, you think you have just made a fool of yourself, nearly striping naked for a boy who apparently doesn’t want you. Jungkook knows this is what you’re thinking and it pains him so.
“No, no, I do,” he says. “I do want this! I just can’t do it.”
“And why not?” You snap hotly. “You’re not making any sense. Either you do or you don’t want us to be a thing.”
“It’s not that simple━”
“It sure seems like it is.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Any explanation would be better than none,” You say firmly, “and simultaneously making me look like an idiot for looking so eager.”
Jungkook sighs heavily. He takes a step back from you, running both hands frustratedly through his hair, letting the muscles in his biceps flex as he does so. When he looks back at you, he’s solemn.
“There can’t be an us because I’m just gonna put you in danger this way,” he says. “People are out there looking for me! Not just the police, but hardcore criminals, gangs, thugs, murderers. If they find me, or if they find out that you’re close to me or know me, they’ll hurt you too. I can’t have that, Y/N.”
“But I can handle it,” You insist.
“I can’t,” Jungkook’s voice is stern, set in place. “I can’t have that on my conscience, knowing that if you get hurt, it’s because of me. That’s all I ever worry about, from the second that I put this mask on. No one knows about me being Spider-Man and I kept it that way for a reason. Don’t you think I could have flaunted that I was this supposed super cool new hero? I didn’t do that because of you; because of the people that I’m close to.”
“I don’t care,” Your voice is feeble, cracking. “I don’t care if I get hurt. If you can handle it, then so can I! I just want to be with you, Jungkook. I━ I love you━”
Jungkook hears the words you blurt out quickly but he doesn’t seem to necessarily register them at once. A stiff silence settles in the room between the two of you, an undeniable form of the point of no return, except you don’t regret the words you say. You mean them wholeheartedly because you have always admired and loved Jungkook, from the little boy next door to this young hero before you. You stare at him shyly, albeit unwavering. A panic washes over him, drains his face of any colour, and suddenly it feels as if he can’t breathe, his chest concaving in on his shrill heart. As the words begin to register in his mind, he can only sorrowfully gaze at you; but the lack of silence has your confidence paling and soon you’re looking away, shaking your head. A pained expression paints your features and though it hurts Jungkook more than any other wound that has been inflicted upon him in fights on the street prior to this, he knows he has to do this.
You already know his answer before he even speaks it. When he does say the final words that leave you in such an excruciating and unbearable pain, he has already fled, grabbing his mask and escaping out of the window, escaping from you, and into the heart of the city. When he’s gone and you’re alone in the thick silence do his words finally return to you and are the cause of the broken heart you are forced to nurse through muddled tears over the aimless days to come:
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
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You don’t see Jungkook the next day or the day after that.
In fact, you don’t see him for three entire weeks. He stops showing up at the café late at night, stops attending the classes he has with you (or maybe he just blends well into the other somber looking faces), stops visiting your window in the early morning hours. Autumn bleeds numbly into the beginning shock of cold that is winter and, though there is no snow yet, you still feel the wrath of the frigid season. And, with the sudden loss of Jungkook, comes the abrupt and unwarranted disappearance of Spider-Man. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it is Jungkook’s fault. Either way, the masked enigma vanishes without a trace after your argument with Jungkook and the city’s crime, now freed from the vigilant watchful eyes of New York’s hero, spikes.
It feels almost as if the city has swallowed him whole or as if he has dropped off the face of the earth and the only thing to remember him by is the sudden havoc that ensues the city. The only thing you have to even know if Jungkook is still alive are the occasional updates from Taehyung who comes to befriend you if only to mention Jungkook every once and awhile just for the sake of easing your worried mind. You’re not so much mad as you are upset, but you care entirely more for his own wellbeing and to not hear from him causes you agony.
There is only one brisk moment in which you encounter Jungkook and it comes simply from a happenstance. You are not at all expecting to see him and nor is he expecting to see you. Rather, you are seated on a wooden bench in the park just beside your school on a day graced with a strange warmth for winter. Wrapped in a scarf and knit hat, you are flipping through the pages of a book for one of your classes when a figure stands before you, momentarily blocking the sun’s light from your view. As you glance up at the shadow cast over you, you are genuinely surprised to find Jungkook standing there. He looks, perhaps, even more so dishevelled than usual, his hair and attire all one negligent mess as if he couldn’t even find the strength to care for himself. Dark circles line his sunken eyes which stare down at you sorrowfully.
“Y/N… Can I talk to you?”
Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you can’t turn away from him. For a moment, you fear that you will cave into him but then you are reminded of your broken heart. It’s what causes you to act in such haste, shaking your head up at him as you shut your book and shove it into your bag. You stand to your feet and brush past him and he, so caught up in your rejection of him and the own twinge of pain he feels in his heart, lingers by the bench. Then, he is walking after you, his footsteps swiftly catching him up to you.
“Y/N. Y/N, wait! Please, just let me━”
Jungkook breaks out into a sudden jog and only stops when he is standing in front of you. With your path blocked, you, too, come to a halt if only for the benefit of the doubt. He desperately tries to meet your eyes but you look past him, arms folded over your chest.
“Let me talk to you,” he begs. “Away from here. Just you and me. I can explain everything. I━”
“You had your chance, Jungkook,” You quip dryly. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I wasn’t━ I didn’t mean to━” he tries, but is interrupted once more by your strained voice.
“You left me.” Now you are staring at him and Jungkook wishes that you hadn’t even bothered to give him the chance. Once full of shimmering admiration, your eyes are only glossed over with a pained disappointment. “I told you I loved you and you left me. You made me look so stupid and I━ No. No, I’m not doing this right now.”
You push yourself forward, walking carefully around him. He watches as you storm away, shaking your head to yourself. With one last despairing attempt, he calls out to you once more.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I let you down. I know. I’m a failure.”
You stop. Your back is turned to him before you force yourself to look over at him and he foolishly thinks that maybe you’ll give him a chance to properly explain himself. Instead━
“You’re not a failure, Jungkook,” You tell him firmly. “I just━ I need to be alone right now. But don’t leave them. Don’t let them down. The city needs you.”
Jungkook flinches. He wants to call out to you again and pull you back to him, explain everything that is on his mind, but he can’t. Instead, he is forced to watch you walk away from him until you disappear amongst the crowd and even then he doesn’t move. He knows you’re disappointed with him.
He knows the whole city is disappointed with him ━ but the only person he wants to impress is you and he fears he’s ruined his only chance to.
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You hardly seem to sleep at night anymore, instead too caught up in the thoughts that plague your dreams. Instead of going to the roof as you usually do when you can’t sleep, you find yourself lying helplessly in your bed, staring up at the empty night sky through your window. One night, as you’re dozing off on your bed, your eyes blinking wearily as they try to focus on the shimmering moon, you begin to hear a noise. It’s similar to a light tapping, though it drowns out in the sound of a siren from somewhere down below. At first you believe you have just dreamt it but then you hear a loud thud, slightly muffled from somewhere outside your window. It jolts you awake, has you pushing yourself up into a sitting position, and glancing around your room for any sign of something that may have fallen in there before noticing a flash of movement from the corner of your eye.
Red and blue.
Interest piques your drowsy mind at the thought of it being Jungkook but why would he be returning to you now? You would have been entirely set on begrudgingly flopping back down onto your bed and turning your back to him had you not felt that dreadful feeling that something was terribly wrong. You can’t hear his voice and when you turn to get a better look, you find him standing on the fire escape just outside your window, slumped dangerously against the wall with his back to you. It is that dreaded feeling that pushes you out of your bed, drags you to your window which you lightly throw open, only to be met with a sight that leaves you in horrific shock.
Jungkook is adorned in his usual tight red and blue suit, though his mask is off and gives you a clear view of his weary face, now muted in colour, that your eyes land on first. His eyes are shut, his head rests against the brick wall of the building, and his skin is marked with dirt and grime, bruises and dried blood. As your eyes trail lower, following the curve of his arms to his hands that cradle his side, you finally spot the large wound from beneath his fingertips on the left of his abdomen, shimmering a bright crimson red. Immediately your heart sinks to your stomach as you gasp loudly.
“Oh my god! Jungkook!”
Shimmying your way through the window to get closer to the boy hardly has him stirring. Your hands come out to grasp at his face, forcing him from his slouched position.
“Jungkook, can you hear me? What the hell happened?”
His eyes flicker open momentarily at the touch of your warm fingers and he musters a small smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up just slightly.
“It’s just a scratch,” he mumbles hoarsely. “You should definitely see the other guy now.”
“You’re an idiot,” You grumble, your eyebrows knitting into a frown. “Why are you here? You should have gone to the hospital! I’m taking you right now━”
“No, no,” he protests stubbornly. He shifts his weight and immediately flinches from the pain. “No, you can’t. I’ll be okay. I just━ I need some time to rest.”
A deep sigh exhales past your parted lips at the mention of what had happened the night he fled so suddenly. Instead, you brush off the memory and give him a small shake of your head. “Here, stop talking. Let me help you get inside and I’ll see what I can do for you. This is gonna hurt a bit but can you move?”
Jungkook nods. As you wrap your arm carefully around his waist to shift him over to the window, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes himself forward. You try to help as he stiffly climbs in through the small window, grunting in pain as he does so, and then stumbling into your room and bumping into your desk next to the window, knocking a few trinkets down. As he leans dangerously against your now skewed desk, you hurry through the window and help him to his feet, pulling him over to your bed.
Despite the way he had left you so suddenly days ago, there is no air of stiffness in the room. The only thing that surrounds the two of you is a melancholic silence as you rummage around your room for the medkit you knew you had stowed away eons ago. For the most part, Jungkook patches himself up, downing a couple of painkillers, cleaning his wound in his abdomen and stitching it closed with a steady hand that has evidently done this before. You sit across from him in your desk chair, watching him intently as he sits on your bed, having shrugged off the top part of his suit and leaving his torso exposed. Other than the blood and dirt that cakes his golden skin, you take note of the toned muscles that make his abs and the way they flex in tandem with every time he winces as he tugs at his wound.
When he’s done, the silence is still unmoving. Jungkook wants to speak but his throat is dry and any time he dares open his mouth to say something, anything, he immediately recoils. It’s only when you’re helping him into your bathroom so he can take a shower does he finally gather the courage he needed all this time without his mask on. Before you can turn to walk away on him, he catches your attention by calling your name. When he speaks next, his voice is faint, terrified.
“I’m sorry.”
He gulps when you turn to look up at him and suddenly he’s made aware of the fact that the two of you are cramped so closely together in your small bathroom. It makes the shame he feels more prominent as he looks you in the eyes.
“You were the first person I could think of when this happened,” he says. “I━ I know I have no right to be here after what I did to you but I just needed someone. I needed you.”
Your heart flutters at his words though you hide this feeble act by turning away from him. “It’s whatever, Jungkook,” He hears you mumble faintly, your back to him. “Anything I can do to help.”
He wants to say something more but he hesitates again. He watches as you take a deep breath, the heave of your shoulders under a heavy weight, before you ultimately walk out of the door and shut it behind you, leaving it slightly ajar. You linger in your bedroom, standing in front of your window as you gaze out, absentmindedly gnawing on your lower lip as you fold your arms tighter around your torso. You hear the shower switch on, let the calming sound of falling water wash over you, and shut your eyes momentarily. You can still see the light from the bathroom pouring out into the darkness of your room from the angled door, and can see the steam start to cloud the mirror.
There’s something so indistinctly intimate about having him in your shower in the next room over after days of avoiding one another. You have every right to be enraged and upset with him and yet you aren’t. You can’t bring yourself to ever hate the boy in the room over. You understand why he left so abruptly and it makes sense but now, in that moment in time, with nothing but a wall dividing you two, there is a certain type of craving you can’t subdue. A craving and a yearning to be closer to him; to tell him how you feel before, if even, he decides to flee in the morning after.
You blame it on your stubbornness that pushes you forward. Really, it seems to happen in such a haze, a rush of adrenaline. One moment, you’re standing by the window; in the next moment, you’re by the bathroom door, your fingers clutching the handle. As you push it open, you can only see a misty silhouette of Jungkook’s figure from beyond the steamed glass doors of the shower. Your heart is hammering against your chest as you walk to the shower, slowly kicking off your shorts as you go.
Jungkook must hear you as you make your way into the bathroom because as soon as you carefully slide open the glass door, he’s already staring at you with a lack of surprise, noting the baggy t-shirt you wear and the way his heart flips when he imagines you in a similar shirt of his. You only meet his curious eyes, noting the water that trickles down his toned and glistening body and flattens his usual unkempt hair into his lashes. He shakes his hair out of his eyes and suddenly he looks remorseful. It’s almost as if he can read your mind and anticipates every second you take to just step inside, his eyes beckoning you to come. It’s not like he cares; in fact, he wants you next to him. God, he just wants you so bad.
Steady hands find the hem of your baggy white t-shirt that you lift up and over your head, exposing the smooth expanse of your bare stomach and the perk of your bare breasts. You shimmy out of your baby pink underwear and, suddenly, you’re standing completely vulnerable before him and yet this is all he wants and all you want. You step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him even more until you’re right in front of him, letting the warm water pour down onto you. It’s become stifling hot in that little space and there’s only a split moment where you fear you’ve made a mistake before you feel Jungkook’s hand come up to gently hold the side of your face. His thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes gazing into yours, and then he’s kissing you.
It’s a soft kiss, one where he takes his time to thoroughly enjoy it, first kissing your upper lip, then your lower lip in some sort of sensual manner that leaves chills running down your spine. He leaves a trail of warm and wet kisses from your jawline to your neck, nuzzling his nose against your throat as your breath catches. His hands fall to grasp at your hips, yanking you toward him and you so easily comply, melting completely into his broad chest and immediately feeling a sense of warmth as if you’ve always belonged there, wrapped up in his strong arms.
“You’re blushing,” he remarks gently, making you realize he’s pulled apart from you to study your face. His fingers brush away the hair that falls into your eyes and he smiles. “You’re blushing now after you walked in on me naked? God, you’re so cute.”
You whine something in protest, burying your face in his neck and he laughs. His fingers tickle at your sides, causing you to squirm in his grip, and when you look at him again, his stare is tender and fond.
“Come here,” he mumbles.
You let him pull you into another kiss that has your head spinning. His tongue grazes your lower lip, teeth slightly nibbling down on the flesh in a way that jolts your heart. As your hands snake up his chest to wind with the hair at the nape of his neck, your own mouth parts open, letting his tongue twine with yours in a heated kiss. He can feel everything against his own body, from the perk of your breasts to the slope of your hips. His hands slide down to rest upon your lower back and the way he pulls you flush against him, letting you brush against his firm cock, makes your head spin again. It’s what wills you to start grinding your hips against his in a slow pattern that has his breath hitching in his throat, his fingers digging tighter into your skin.
“You’re driving me insane,” his voice is husky as he speaks, smooth as it filters through your ears.
You can’t help but smirk against his mouth. “Likewise.”
“How about we get out of here?” he asks. “The bed seems a hell of a lot more comfortable.”
You nod eagerly, mumbling a small, “Please,” against his luscious lips, too reluctant to pull away. He seems to have trouble, too, as he remains in his spot, even long after he reaches down to turn the water off, his lips still locked with yours. Granted, it gives you time to dry off before he’s hoisting you up with ease, instinctively letting your legs wrap around him. A thought abruptly pops into your head and causes you to gasp, your lips parting from his with a significant pop.
“Jungkook!” You scold. “Be careful! Did you forget about the gaping wound in your side or?”
“I’m fine,” he assures, already swiftly carrying you out of the bathroom and into your room.
“I don’t care what your magical radioactive spider bite does for you,” You retort. “I don’t want to somehow hurt you.”
He laughs in response, a sound that reverberates against his chest and your own torso. He’s already standing by the bed when he carefully lowers you down onto it. He crawls over you, instantly towering over your body as he leans down to chase your lips. In one quick movement, you hook your leg around his waist and, using your hands, shift him over until he’s on his back and you’re cradling his hips. He seems surprised at first, his stare flickering from the navel of your stomach to the soft buds of your breasts. Past the valley of your chest, his eyes fall once more upon yours and he smiles breathlessly, his hair sticking up in tufts.
“Really?”
Your eyes fall to the stitched wound on his side covered in gauze and your fingers brush against it delicately, following the natural curve of his abs. “I’m serious, bugboy. You may be this notorious, unstoppable force out there, but to me you’ll always be Jungkook.”
He pouts. “That doesn’t sound as cool as being Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man is cool.”
“See? Even you think so. This is why I never told you ━ everyone thinks Spider-Man is cooler than Jungkook.”
A roll of your eyes has him smirking, though the smile is quick to falter when you begin to grind your hips against his, feeling his firm member poke at your thigh. His jaw drops open slightly at the sudden contact, his brows knitting together in slick concentration as his eyes fall to your glistening soft core.
“You didn’t let me finish,” You breathe steadily. “Spider-Man is cool, but Jungkook is cooler. You’ve always been strong and dauntless to me. You’ve always been a hero to me.”
“God,” he moans, “you’re making it really hard to focus on how cute you’re being when I can already feel how wet you are.”
The giggle that slips past your lips only further proves his point. His head rolls back against the pillows beneath him as you continue to slowly grind against him.
“Do you want me to stop?” You taunt.
“No, no,” he gasps. “Holy shit, no. We can save the mushy talk for afterwards, right? Please?”
You nod briskly, gulping for air as you feel the burning sensation between your thighs. Your fingers dance down the front of your stomach to the bundle of nerves that you rub at carefully. Jungkook watches intensely as you pleasure yourself before him, feels his own cock hardening at the sight of your fingers gracefully rubbing patterns into your clit, coating your digits with your leaking cum. He writhes beneath you, desperately aware of his own need for you, but god help him if he doesn’t finish watching or helping you get off. He swallows thickly, loosening his dry throat.
“Well, if you’re gonna make me sit here then,” he says, “can you at least let me help?”
“I’m listening.”
“Good,” he grins. “Then come sit on my face.”
He says it so confidently that it has you stuttering in your pace. Your eyes flicker down to his mischievously twinkling eyes and the way he bites on his lower lip. You hardly hesitate at his command, pushing yourself off of his crotch and shuffling yourself forward, tossing one knee over his head so that he’s seated nicely between your thighs. His hands remain on your hips to keep you steady as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, murmuring, “I’ll take good care of you, baby. Sit back and relax.”
You do as you're told, letting him pull you carefully down to his face and feeling as he leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh. When his mouth is hovering just over your core, you can feel his warm breath fanning against you and hum in delight, waiting eagerly for his every move. He nudges you closer and closer until you feel that one fell sweep of his tongue against your core, warm and slick as it grazes your folds, immediately sending a shock of white hot pleasure surging through your body. A shocked moan emits from your parted lips in a sound similar to, “Ooh,” that has Jungkook smirking against you.
Suddenly, all you can focus on is him and the way his tongue works so expertly against you, kitten licking at your core until you’re dripping wet in a lewd combination of saliva and your own succulence. You nearly lose your balance the moment he makes contact with you and, with each passing second of immense pleasure, it makes it more difficult to hold on. Your thighs shamelessly squeeze shut (though Jungkook grips lightly onto one of your thighs to shift you apart) and when you feel yourself wobble, breathless and dizzy from the feeling of hot fire burning at your core, your hands fly out to grasp at Jungkook’s carob locks, silky to the touch as they slide out from the seams of your fingers. Admittedly, having Jungkook’s face buried beneath your thighs is a ridiculously hot sight that only spurs your blatant spiral into a panting mess.
“Jungkook━ F━Fuck━ Oh my god━”
The moan that leaves you is throaty, guttural and Jungkook swears he’s never heard anything sexier. Watching you writhe helplessly above him is all that he needs. As his tongue licks firmly at your clit, he can’t help but reach down to his own hard dick. His fingers wrap delicately around his shaft and he pumps himself slowly, groaning into your womanhood at the thought of your delicious and hot walls wrapped around him. He shuts his eyes as he works in a smooth rhythm against both him and yourself, imagining what it would be like to just have you anyway he wants, imagining your own reactions similar to the ones you’re making now.
“Ah, shit━” You gasp suddenly. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good━”
God, there you go again. His palm squeezes harder against his member at your breathy moans and he swears you’re driving him absolutely mad. To him, this feels so surreal. He’s dreamed of this; he’s dreamed and wanted nothing more innocent than to just fucking hold your hand and yet here you are in such a compromising position with him and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world. The best part about it all is that you make him feel this much bliss, this dizzy, when he’s simply just around you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you.
Your fingers clutch a little tighter at his roots and his eyes snap open. He stares up at your frazzled mess and, with his free hand, presses his fingers against your core in areas that his tongue has yet not reached. He coats his digits in your glistening arousal and coaxed with such ease he’s able to push them past your folds, earning another beautiful moan from you. He curls his finger inside you, stretching your core, flicks his tongue a little harder at your clit, squeezes his own hand tighter around his cock as he desperately jacks himself off to this, to you. He pumps his finger in and out of you in tandem with his own hand around his length, hearing your sweet whimpers and choked moans.
He must curl his finger just right inside of you or maybe it’s the way your sensitive clit begins to throb with each lick he takes or maybe it’s when he joins his tongue with his finger in a dangerous duo but then you jut your hips forward ever so slightly and jerk them back. He’s eating you out with such vigour, such hard passion that you can feel his chin and his nose brush against your core and each contact has you gasping. He pulls apart just enough when he feels you jerk your hips backward again and you’re so caught up in the pure ecstasy that has overcome you that you hardly realize until you hear him speaking, muttering faintly against your folds, “C’mon, baby. Ride my face. Cum for me.”
His only response is a weak sputtering as you try to gasp for air. You don’t need to be told twice at this point as you feel as if you’re chasing after your high. You unabashedly begin rocking your hips against his mouth and fingers. He tilts his head just right so that his nose burrows into your clit, his tongue and digit slipping further within your walls that clench around the thought of having something of girth like Jungkook’s length inside you. Jungkook’s own hand slacks at his pace around his member, his fingers reaching up to dig into your waist and thighs to hold you in place as you continuously rock against him. You’re so close, you can feel the familiar tension start to form in the very pit of your stomach.
“F━Fuck!” You cry. “Jung━kook━ I’m━”
Your voice breaks off into frail croaks, your hands flying out to grab onto the sturdy frame of your bed in front of you as you feel your high approach. Jungkook pulls you harder against his face, letting you grind against him as he burrows into you, completely ravaging you with his mouth until you feel your release take hold of you. It shakes you to the bone, causes you to writhe in pleasure above him as you come to a halt, emitting a loud moan of his name as your hot release leaks onto his chin, coating his mouth in your shimmering cum.
“Fuck, fuck━ Jungkook!” Your nails dig into the bed frame, your teeth sinking into your lower lip and muffling your dulcet moans.
He laps at your core, licking away every last drop of your succulence until your hips twitch away from the sensitivity you feel. When he finally pulls apart from you, he stares up at you from between your thighs with an amused smirk, his hair messily mused from your doing. You muster a faint smile in return as you pant heavily, attempting to calm your shrill heart and he beckons you over. You blissfully clamber back down his torso, once more straddling his hips as you curl up into his chest, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your own mouth and it’s something so gentle, so ardent, that it warms your heart.
“That was so fucking hot,” he mumbles between kisses. “Round two?”
Giggling, you part from him momentarily only to reconnect your lips to his jawline, nibbling on the soft skin there. “How about I let you have a turn?”
He quirks a brow in curiosity though he already knows your intentions as your hand flutters down his stomach. He can’t help the moan that slips past his lips as he feels your soft hands grasp firmly at his hardened cock. He feels as if he could practically melt in your hands or explode at any moment and you hadn’t even done anything. His hips instinctively buck into your fist but he shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, startling you in your spot though his hands come out to grasp at your face and hold you in place as he kisses you feverishly.
“How about,” he breathes, nipping at your lower lip, “you let me make love to you right here, right now.”
For a moment, you become carried away with the taste of his lips mingled with your wet arousal that fades away fast. You return the kiss with such zeal, too reluctant to part from him just yet, that when you muster the nerve to lean away, you’re panting heavily.
“Not so fast, bugboy,” You taunt. “I still want you to rest.”
You give him a little nudge backward and he obediently follows your wordless command, plopping back against the pillows of your bed as he looks up at you, his hands resting on your upper thighs.
“I don’t know if you can consider sex as resting,” he points out playfully, a wry grin plastered on his face.
He watches as you smile, the rapid heave and fall of your chest, as you wiggle around until you’re comfortable again on his lap and have lifted your hips off of him. Your hand wraps around his shaft once more and you pump him once, twice, in slow motions as you spread the leaking cum from his throbbing head along his shaft. His jaw drops open at the feeling, eyebrows knitting together, and his fingers dig a little too harshly into your skin accidentally but you don’t at all mind ━ not when you’re able to see such a beautiful reaction from him as he comes undone before you.
Seconds pass of bated breath as you lower yourself slowly, carefully, to his cock. You run the tip of his length along your folds and up to your clit, rubbing small patterns against it that has both of you whimpering lowly. You coat him in your leaking arousal and then lower yourself onto him, finally connecting the two of your bodies as one.
“Oh, fuck,” he grunts.
Jungkook seriously feels as if he’s about to explode ━ literally. You’ve only just sat on him and he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself together long enough before he feels his sweet release. You’re just so warm and wet, so deliciously wet, that he slides easily into your walls that hug him just right. His mind is spinning, and even more so when he feels you stop halfway and lift your hips again. You drop them to the same level and then back again, repeating this process until you drop your hips fully, flush with his.
“Oooh, Jungkook, hmm,” Your fingers dig into his abdomen at the feeling of being so damn full. You can practically feel him throbbing and your own walls clench and release around him as you adjust to his size.
“Move━” he chokes out. “Move, please━ holy shit━”
And you do. You grind against him, rolling your hips around his firm cock as the fire continues to burn between your legs. You raise your hips languidly and drop them back down again and again until you’ve adopted some fluid rhythm, being so easily coaxed by your own cum.
“Like this?” You gasp.
He nods absentmindedly, swallowing thickly. “Fuck yes, just like that, baby.” His head rolls back against the pillows, the vein in his neck straining, “You feel so━ so fucking good.”
“Tell me,” You breathe.
Jungkook finds it hard to concentrate when his eyes fall on you. He watches as your breasts move in tandem as you ride him, the glistening arousal on your folds that coat his length that he watches disappear into you each time. He greedily reaches out as he’s lost in his own thoughts, his hand cupping your plush breast in a firm hold, his thumb brushing against your perked nipple. Your back arches in response, leaning closer to his warm hand, as he focuses on the tightness that is your core.
“Warm,” he moans. “So, so fucking wet ━ oh my god, you’re dripping, baby. Shit, you feel so perfect around my cock.”
You cry out his name, quickening your pace as you chase your high. Your strides are relentless, desperately searching for a sweet release and Jungkook feels the same. He’s held it in this long ━ he isn’t so sure he can hold himself together for much longer. He can’t take it anymore. Just as he feels you slowing down from exhaustion, he sits up once more, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you tight against his chest. Your own arms slide around his neck and you lean forward to crash your lips against his as you roll your hips steadily against his now. The new angle has him hitting a spot in you that shakes you to the core, has stars forming in your eyes.
You bite down hard on his lower lip accidentally as you try to conceal the loud moan that bubbles at your lips. Jungkook only smirks in response, especially when you shamelessly let those strangled moans out. As you sink lower onto him, Jungkook thrusts his hips upward to meet yours halfway, earning a sharp gasp from you. He tightens his hold on you and continues to thrust up into you again and again, so hard and so fast that it makes you writhe with pleasure above him. You can feel him stretching you wide each time, can feel your sticky arousal begin to trickle down his cock and your thighs.
So much for making sure he doesn’t hurt himself again ━ his thrusts are pure animalistic, hasty and needy, though all either of you care about in that moment is feeling that sweet release. You collapse entirely against Jungkook’s arms, letting him take hold of you as his hips smack against your ass. When you finally feel your second high of the night approach, your reaction feels near explosive. He thrusts again and again and you choke out somewhere between the sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing, “J━Jungkook━ Fuck! I’m close━”
He growls in response, eager to push you to yours as he chases for his. Another thrust and, holy shit, there. He hits a spot in you once, twice, and over and over again that just feels so incredibly good that you can’t help but unravel in his arms. It takes you by surprise, washing over you an immense cloud of bliss as white-hot pleasure blinds you, starting from your core and spiralling out to every edge of your body until your toes are curling. You cry out his name in a beautiful harmonious sound as your cum leaks profusely from you and coats him just right.
Fuck this ━ he doesn’t care anymore that you want him to rest. He needs to feel his own release now. So he grabs you securely and then he’s twisting you around, shoving you onto your back as he pushes his hips into you. You’re writhing beneath him, your back arching until your warm and sweaty chest is pressed against his. Your fucked out expression that stares back up at him but with such tired and loving eyes only spurs him on further (that, and the way you’re clenching so nicely around him). It’s completely messy but he’s so close. Another hard slap of his hips and then he’s finally coming undone. He pulls out of you fast, his hand coming down to grab at his cock as he pumps himself, thickly coated with your juices.
He cums moments later with a deep, rough moan, releasing onto your stomach in ivory beads that paint you his. His hand slacks around his softening length and then he, so spent and slightly sore from his wound (only slightly, he swears), collapses against you. The room suddenly falls silent, safe for the heavy panting and the shrill beating of your hearts that you both try to tame. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and your arms wrap around him to lazily twine his hair with your fingers. It’s nice to just lay there like that, enveloped in each other's arms, basking in the heavenly glow of euphoria. He kisses your neck then, soft and simple, and litters kisses down your throat to your collarbones and then back up again to your lips.
When he parts from you, his eyes remain locked on your mouth until he forces himself to look away and up at you. You’re smiling at him and it’s the type of genuine, albeit exhausted, smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. Tracing the curve of your lips with his index finger, he hums thoughtfully to himself.
“I lied about before,” he says sheepishly. When you quirk a brow at him, he continues. “I lied about before when you asked me if I’m ever afraid when I go out at night. I’m always afraid. Part of why I wear that mask is so the people I’m up against don’t see me wimping out. But, god, when I’m with you, I feel invincible.”
He watches as a light blush pinches at your cheeks, your fingers reaching up to softly graze his cheek.
“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers. “I love you. I always have and I swear you make me stronger. I don’t know what it is. I think I just want to fight harder for you. I know I was a dick for leaving that night but I know we can make this work. I just need you to believe in me, too.”
Your eyes, littered with stardust, stare into his as if he is the entire world. “I’m strong, too, Jungkook. I don’t always need protection.”
“I know that,” he chuckles.
“Good. Then get back down here and kiss me again, bugboy.”
Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t hesitate to lean down to press his lips lovingly to yours. He melts against your chest and he is content if every night is like this, in each other’s arms. As he deepens the kiss, he hears you whisper against his lips, “I love you, too, bugboy,” and it is all he needs to feel as if he has the world in his very palm.
Jungkook has always been afraid. He is afraid of not living to see the next day, afraid of losing you or his family or friends but every shred of fear fades away when he’s with you. As the city continues to breathe from beyond the brick walls of your apartment and as the sun begins to rise from the very heart of the metropolis along the horizon, Jungkook is certain that he and you together are invincible.
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kirishoshego · 3 years
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Confidental Composition//Bakugo
!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!
This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).
Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)
TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise
„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“
A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.
Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.
At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.
Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.
„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.
„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.
It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.
„Dear Professor,
down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.
Have a nice week,
Y/N Y/L/N“
Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.
X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.
„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.
As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.
Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.
Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.
Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.
Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.
It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“
You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.
„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.
„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.
„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.
„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.
„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.
„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.
„Yes sir,“ another one.
„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.
„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.
You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.
A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.
„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.
„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.
Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.
„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.
Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.
„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.
„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.
„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.
„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.
„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.
„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.
It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.
„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“
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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)
Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia
Word count: 5,138
After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.
After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 
As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 
“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”
You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”
You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”
He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 
Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”
While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 
“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”
That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”
“Do you have any blackmail?”
Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 
“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”
You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 
“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”
“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”
“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”
“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”
“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”
“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”
Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”
“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”
The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 
By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 
Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 
After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.
Hales : )
(Y/n), I’m omw to your house
Gonna give you a ride to the school
(Y/n)
Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive
Hales : )
Don’t care
Omw, be there in like 7 mins
You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat
(Y/n)
I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one
She’s gonna give me a ride home too
Dadza
Alright, thank her for me
Tell her I said good luck too!
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do
Dadza
(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Fuck you I’m a good influence
Dadza
You’re really not
Wilby
^^^^
Technology Sword
^
Uncle Schlatty Patty
Fuck all of you 
You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.
“Coat.”
You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”
“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”
Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”
“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”
Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 
“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”
“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 
“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”
You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”
You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”
The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 
Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 
When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 
The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.
“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”
“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”
“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”
“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”
The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 
You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 
“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”
“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”
“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”
You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 
The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 
“...(y……”
“..(y/n)......”
“(Y/n).”
You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.
“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.
“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.
“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?
“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.
“Who th f-fuck… why?”
“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.
“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”
“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”
“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”
“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”
Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”
“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”
Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.
“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”
“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”
“Good, what month are we in right now?”
“Nov-November?”
“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”
“S’my dad Phillip.”
“That’s your dad Philza.”
The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 
“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”
Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.
“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”
“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.
She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 
“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 
“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.
“Tech?”
“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”
When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 
“S’better.”
“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”
“Wilbs-”
“Focus on walking.”
You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”
You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”
When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 
You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 
After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”
“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.
“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”
They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 
“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 
“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”
“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”
“Mm. Makes sense.”
“Let’s get you in the car hun.”
As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 
When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”
“Car.”
After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 
“(Y/n), what do you remember?”
You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”
You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”
“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”
“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”
After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.
“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”
“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”
As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.
For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 
“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”
The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”
“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”
“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”
You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.
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987 notes · View notes
prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years
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I Love You | Quackity
Requested? No but I did 
Warnings? None just really wholesome and chaotic Quackity 
Summary: You tell Alex you love him for the first time 
Word Count: 1,653
“WE POPPIN OFF CHAT!!” Alex yells excitedly and you giggle from his bedroom upstairs.
Your boyfriend Alex was going to be streaming practically all night long. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to be streaming and playing video games with his friends all night while you relax in his room.
You often turned on his stream, listening to your rambunctious boyfriend scream to his friends about god knows what and thanking fans for various subs and gifts. Tonight, he was playing Five Nights at Freddy with George and Karl, and then George picked skribbl.io, and then Karl was going to host Jackbox.
You never mind Alex streaming as much as he did, Alex loved streaming and he always left you laughing for hours. Not only that, his friends were your friends so you loved listening to them as well. It closed the distance you all were feeling incredibly these days. 
You hear Alex thank his chat for subs for a bit and just as he greets George and Karl into the stream, you decide to try and get some work done. You and Alex were both still in school, working on your respective majors, and had millions of little study sessions together. 
You loved spending time sat across from each other on the couch, work spread out around you, and neither of you doing any of your homework for long. Whether it be Alex getting distracted, sitting on his phone for a bit before coming to bother you, nudging his face into your neck. 
Or, you get distracted. Flopping yourself down into your boyfriend's embrace as he giggles cutely, running a hand through your hair before kissing you softly. 
You both did get your work done though, helping each other to push through difficult finals and assignments. You were always there for each other. 
Tonight you were focused on an important essay that was due in the next few days. You were hoping to get a good portion done while Alex was streaming but it was proving to be difficult without your boyfriend but also with your boyfriend streaming.
As you finish your first page of the night, you check in on the stream, watching George yell loudly at Alex to press the button in FNaF. You giggle lightly as the boys continue and you decide to leave it on as you continue to mindlessly write your ideas hoping they sound somewhat coherent for when you go back to edit them. 
As you type, your phone suddenly dings with Alex’s text tone and your eyes scan the text. He tells you to come downstairs and your head tilts in confusion as you hear him over stream tell Dream to repeat the same thing over again. 
“Let’s just play GTA,” Dream responds and Alex and George gasp dramatically. You roll your eyes as you know exactly what Alex is getting at so you head downstairs before anything happens. 
When you knock on the door to Alex’s streaming room, his face lights up at the sight of you. 
“Babe!” Alex greets before turning and making grabby hands at you. 
You make your way over to him and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into frame. You wave to the camera and listen as you’re greeted by the boys. 
“Baby? Ask Dream what he just said.” 
“Dream what did you just say?” you ask now confused that Alex and George are harping on the same question. 
“We’re gonna play GTA,” Dream repeats uncertainly. 
Alex presses play on something and suddenly his voice starts to play over the speakers. Your smile widens and you start to laugh uncontrollably as Alex stands and stretches his arms wide. 
“Where are the askers my friend?” Alex sings over the speakers and you’re on the ground laughing as your boyfriend chants excitedly knowing he got Dream. 
“WOOO!!! NOBODY ASKED!!” The boys yell and Dream is silent making you cackle even harder. 
“Baby thank you for the help,” Alex says helping you up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 
“Glad to be of service. And Dream, nobody asked,” you mention before leaving the room. 
“That’s my baby!! Dream! Dream!” you hear Alex yelling as you exit the room. 
You giggle uncontrollably as you head back upstairs and sit down at your desk. Moments like those, practically any moment spent with Alex reminds you why you’ve fallen head over heels for the energetic boy. 
He kept you on your toes constantly, you never knew what was going to happen next whether it be him streaming, you two studying, out in public, whatever. His intense personality kept you entranced and you loved that. 
You loved that he was sweet to you. He was known for his loud voice and meme culture but with you it was soft touches, sweet words, encouraging smiles. Every little thing made you fall in love. 
Neither of you had said it to each other despite being in a relationship for over 6 months. You felt it in the deepest part of your heart all the way through your body whenever you were around Alex and you knew he felt it too. You weren’t scared that Alex wasn’t going to say it back, but you were nervous to say it first. 
A few hours pass as you continue to work and get over halfway done with your paper when you decide to check in on stream and take a break overall. You stand, stretching a bit before grabbing a sip of water and heading out to the kitchen for a snack. 
When you’re back in Alex’s room at his desk, you realize that it’s almost 2:30 am and everything is starting to wear on you. You definitely needed to get some sleep but you were almost finished with this paper and you knew you could finish it tonight and get some sleep the next day. 
As Karl’s stream now plays in the back and you listen for your boyfriend’s voice, your smile widens hearing him talk and yell with his friends. 
The boys had just finished their first game of quiplash and Alex was starting to worry about his girlfriend. He knew you worked yourself to the bone most days and he wanted to make sure you were taking breaks or at the very least heading to bed soon after writing practically all night. 
“Boys I’ll be right back,” he tells the guys before dipping from his setup. 
When he gets upstairs, the scene before Alex is nothing short of adorable. There you were, Karl’s stream still playing in the background as you snoozed lightly on your hands. 
Alex smiles at the sight, heart filling up with love instantly as he walks over to you. He grabs your phone first, turning it off before working on cleaning up the rest of your stuff surrounding you. 
Once finished cleaning up, Alex bends down till he’s looking up at you. He places a hand on your knee, shaking you awake lightly and you groan in response. 
“C’mere beautiful,” he says. 
Alex maneuvers you so you’re facing him before pulling your arms around his shoulders. When you have a good enough grip on him, he wraps his hands around the back of your thighs and lifts, pulling your legs around his waist and his chest is flush with yours. 
You snuggle into his warm embrace and while he takes a second to steady himself, he places a kiss to your temple. He finally moves, walking over to his bed and carefully places you upon it, and wraps you up in the blankets. 
“I’ll be back up soon,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to your head. 
“Alex, I love you,” you tell him sleepily. 
Alex stops dead in his tracks, his heart beating a million miles a minute. He had loved you the minute he heard your laugh. The second you had said a word to him. He couldn’t believe you had told him you loved him first. It was perfect for the two of you. 
“I love you too baby.” 
He leans down, gripping your chin lightly before pressing a kiss to your lips that’s basically all smiles from the both of you. Alex giggles, unable to contain his happiness as he leans down, pressing kisses all over your face and you return the same laugh and try to squirm away from his touch but to no avail. 
“I love you so much,” he says again before kissing you. 
He practically runs back downstairs, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs that you had just said I love you but when he gets back to stream, all he can do is smile. 
“Quackity?” Karl asks noticing the younger boy is back but hasn’t said a word. 
“You alright?” George asks knowing something's up. 
“She told me she loved me,” Alex says in a dreamlike state. 
“(y/n)?” Karl asks. 
“She told me she loved me,” Alex repeats again like it’s the only thing he’s gonna be able to say or think about for the rest of his life. 
“Oh my god!” Karl yells
“Congratulations!” Sykkuno responds sweetly and in between the noise, Alex realizes he needs to go be with his girl. 
“Hey guys? I gotta go,” he continues. 
“Go get her!” Karl yells. 
Alex signs off, shutting everything off quickly before racing back upstairs. He finds you still half asleep on the bed and his heart melts all over again. 
“Baby!” he yells before running and jumping into bed. 
He partially lands on you, making you groan in response but when he pulls you into his embrace, laying on top of him and you see him beaming up at you, you know you’re the reason he’s hyper tonight. 
“I love you,” he says. 
“I love you.” 
“You know I’m gonna say that all the time now right?” he asks. 
“I hope so.”
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secretsandwriting · 3 years
Text
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So I’m testing some new things out with this so you guys will have to tell me what you think!
I’ve also come to the conclusion that while Timothee isn’t my favorte celebrity I like writing for him.
Also, I have no idea how movie premieres work so this is really just a guess and could be completely wrong.
Word Count - 1609
Beta Read - by google docs
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Navigating through the crowded streets of New York was getting to be something you were good at. Moving there had definitely been a culture shock but after getting used to it, it was pretty nice. But now, you needed to get coffee and work on your French for one of your classes.
Ordering and setting yourself up, you started the assigned video and prayed it would make sense and you wouldn’t have to add another hour or two of study to your already full schedule. But as fate would have it, it sounded like gibberish.
Restarting the video to try again, you were pulled out of your studies by a burning sensation going down your arm. Pulling out your headphones you looked down at your arm to brown soaking into the sleeve.
“I’m so sorry!” The guy in front of you looked familiar but due to his mask it took a moment for it to sink in. Timothee Chalamet. He was an actor, but that wasn’t important. What was important? He knew french.
“That’s not important. Do you have any free time right now? I know you know french and I need to learn it and this makes no sense and it’s due in two hours.” You definitely caught him off guard, but he checked his phone.
“I have an hour.” He pulled a chair over and you handed him one of your earbuds. For the next hour he helped you, he was a lot better than the video your teacher had given you.
“Here,” he handed you a slip of paper. “If you need more help just text me and I’ll help when I can.”
“Thank you! With your help, I’ll at least pass.” He laughed and you said your goodbyes before he went on his way and you worked on finishing the rest of your homework.
While you worked, you didn’t notice the girls in the corner watching you with their phones out and slightly pointed at you.
The next day, you almost regretted asking Timothee for help when you woke up to your phone being blown up by friends and social media. There were multiple pictures of you and Timothee as well as multiple dating theories. One of the notifications stood out, Timothee had messaged you on Instagram.
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You didn’t really talk until your next assignment came and you texted him about it. Together you decided to meet at one of the libraries. This time you knew that you would be spending time with a celebrity and people would notice so you made sure you at least looked alive. That way if there were pictures posted online at least you wouldn’t look like too much of a mess. Apparently Timothee noticed.
“You look nice.”
“Well, the chances of pictures being taken are pretty big so I at least want to look alive and not like I just rolled out of bed.” He snorted and you chatted for a few minutes before getting to work.
This time it was a bigger assignment so it took a few hours instead of one. But it didn’t seem to be so long, it felt like time had flown by and it was finished immediately. Timothee was interesting, you two could have fun but when needed it could be serious.
So when you split ways and Timothee started texting you an hour later, you didn’t feel like he was trying anything. It just felt like you were talking to a friend you had known for years. Then, you had plans to hang out two days later when he was free. The plan was to got to a park and play with kids and act like a kid, simply to feel like you didn’t have so much on your plate and could just have fun for an afternoon.
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The interview he asked you about, was before you were meeting to go to a park and act like you were children, not adults who had jobs and college. But that was the plan, and exactly what you did.
The two of you ended up chasing each other until all the other kids at the park wanted to play with the two of you. The parents watched the two of you close when you played with them but that was to be expected.
Timothee was good with kids. Not just good, amazing. All the little girls were absolutely in love with him while all the boys were amazed by how strong he was.
However, as most people know. Kids have no filter, therefore they ask any question that comes to their brain. Hence the 30 different times you had to tell them that you weren’t dating and you were just friends having fun. Some of the parents seemed to think so too, one of them basically told you.
“Thank you for playing with Maggie, she had a blast and she’ll probably sleep well tonight.” The lady looked relieved at the thought. “You and your boyfriend would be good with kids if you decide to have them.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. We just met a month ago and we just came here to have some fun.” She nodded but you could tell she didn’t believe you. Trying to ignore what she said you turned and went back to playing with the kids.
It was after two hours of playing different games, the two of you decided that you were out of energy. Timothee offered getting a meal and you agreed. And that’s how you ended up in a Mcdonalds.
For the next few months, you would meet up for assignments or just to hang out. The press had a hayday with it but after a while it was easy to ignore and then it became more fun to do funny poses every once in a while.
Then he had to go work on a movie so your contact was left to text, phone calls, and facetime. It worked but it wasn’t as good as meeting in person. He still helped with your french until the semester was over part way through his movie.
“Timmy!!! I passed!!!” You held up your phone to the camera on your computer so he could see through his screen. It was amazing and you owed it all to him. Last semester you had barely passed and that had been with 4 times the amount of studying then you had done today. Timothee was godsent.
“Yes! You did it!” You celebrated for a little bit before he got serious. “Y/n, since you passed I know what we can do to celebrate. When this is over, you should come as my plus one to the movie premiere.”
“The movie premiere?!” He nodded, you could see how nervous he was in his eyes. “I have one question.” He nodded, waiting for you to ask. “What am I supposed to wear.” He snorted.
“I’ll talk with my manager and see what he says.” So that was the plan. You kept talking with him, but now it was less about school and more for the fun of it.
When the movie premiere came close Timothee got an answer to your question. Though he almost seemed hesitant to tell you.
“You just have to go get measured and go to a few fittings. The brand making my suit is making you a matching dress.” You would be matching with Timothee sure, you were going as his plus one, or date depending on who you ask. But brand? This dress sounded like it was going to cost more than your college tuition.
“Ok, when and where do I need to go?” He gave you his manager’s private number so you talk straight with him and get all the details. Little did you know, that that was the beginning of the storm.
Somehow it got out that you were going with Timothee and even getting matching outfits. Soon, your phone was being blown up by people trying to get details and even shows asking you to come on and talk about it. Timothee’s manager called you and offered to be your manager until this all calmed down, mostly because this affected Timothee but the offer was still appreciated and accepted.
He texted you a link and told you to post it in all of your public social media bios titled ‘Manager’s contact’. While it wasn’t something most celebrities did, you had just been dragged into this. It would start as a base line until things were figured out.
Through this mess, Timothee kept apologizing even when you said it was ok and it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. You thought the manager would be enough but then you ended up sharing Timothee’s booking agent too. Apparently everyone wanted to talk with you.
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A few days after agreeing, you learned that the episode would be realised a week before the premiere, but hopefully it would go well. You were also told that Timothee would be doing the interview with you which made you feel a lot better.
Timothee came back the day before you had to fly to California so you were going to let him take the day to rest because frankly it was a lot, but he showed up at your door with his suitcase. He hadn’t even gone home.
“Timmy! What are you doing he-” He cut you off.
“Can I kiss you?” What? That wasn’t what you expected. While you stood there staring at him completely confused, he started shifting around a little bit and playing with his hands.
“Yeah.” That’s all it took for him to get his confidence back.
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Request:
Hey, I really love your writing.
Can I request something with Thimothée Chalamet? Maybe like they meet at a coffee shop and he accidentally spills his coffee on her and then they become friends and they progressively fall in love with each other? If you can’t I understand.
Thank you 🤍
113 notes · View notes
another-tmnt-writer · 3 years
Text
Truth or Dare?
Raphael x Reader
Author: Admin Mo
Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.
Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3
Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff
Word Count: 3.9k
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“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”
Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.
Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”
“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”
Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”
“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”
Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”
“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”
Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”
***
Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.
A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?
“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.
“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”
“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.
Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.
It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”
“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.
The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.
“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.
“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”
If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”
“Is that alright?” You asked.
“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”
“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”
“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”
“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”
“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”
“That’s a lot to adjust to.”
“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”
“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”
He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”
“Do you have snapchat?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course.”
Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.
“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”
“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.
“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”
“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.
“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”
“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.
***
Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.
You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.
He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.
Shit.
He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”
Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.
Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.
“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”
“Is that alright?”
“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”
So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.
“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”
“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”
“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”
“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.
Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…
“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.
“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”
“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”
“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.
“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.
“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”
“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”
“Trainor.”
“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”
“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”
“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”
“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”
“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”
You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”
“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.
“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”
“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”
“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”
“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”
“Do you need us to bring anything?”
“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”
“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.
“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”
“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”
“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”
“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”
Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”
“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”
“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.
“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”
“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.
“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”
“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.
“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”
“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”
“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”
You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”
***
“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”
“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”
“Fair point.”
You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.
The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.
“Is Darcy here?” He asked.
“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.
A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.
You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.
So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.
“Hey guys, come on in!”
You moved out of the way so they could step inside.
Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”
“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”
“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.
“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.
The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.
Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”
Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”
Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.
But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.
***
The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.
“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.
“Truth.”
“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”
“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”
“Don’t you do it!” You warned.
“Kill Chris Evans.”
“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”
“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”
“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.
“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”
“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.
You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.
“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.
“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.
“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”
You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”
“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.
“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”
“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.
“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”
Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!
But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?
“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.
Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.
You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.
Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.
“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.
“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”
“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”
“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”
“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”
“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.
“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”
“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”
“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”
Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”
He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.
***
“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.
Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”
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moonlitmeeks · 3 years
Text
༄ last minute studying with gerard pitts headcanons
pairing; gerard pitts x gn!reader
warnings; very slight food mention, mentions of stress
request; hi! i love your writing :)) i was wondering if you could write hcs for the reader and gerard pitts stressing and doing homework at the last minute? thanks broski :) have a lovely day or night :)) - @tall-my-beloved
a/n; hi,, thank u so much that's so nice to hear!! :D ofc i can bestie - i luv this idea omg it's so pitts i swear,, i hope you're doing well too!! thanks for the request i hope you enjoy <33
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you never meant to let it all get this out of hand, really
it was only supposed to be one assignment pushed back for one day so you could catch a new movie you both really wanted to see
but it's now seven pm and you're both faced with three different pieces of homework due tomorrow
it’s safe to say you’re both more than a little stressed
pitts is the type of person who bounces back and forth between being incredibly stressed over work and having no cares at all
but this time? oh god, all he can feel is stress
you have a poem for keating's class, some trig homework, and chemistry questions
you're both cooped up in his dorm, papers and textbooks strewn across his bed and the floor
there's some snacks you managed to steal from the dining hall that you both pick at
meeks hangs out in charlie and cameron's room in order to give you guys space to work
"we're so screwed."
it doesn't take long for you to make a system
pitts will focuses on the trig answers whilst you take on the chemistry
copying is bad, sure, but it's the only way you're both getting through this tonight
you're both each other's hype person
"i'm giving up. i'm dropping out pittsie." "no you aren't, c'mon you got this y/n, you're good at chemistry!"
"you think i could escape from here without anyone noticing?" "i'm not letting you break out of hellton over trig homework pitts, sorry."
one of you will just flop backwards and groan for a moment before getting back up and getting back to work
pitts makes sure you guys take regular breaks
he doesn't care how much work there is, he isn't letting you burn out
although he is prone to getting distracted, so you may have to keep him on track
once you've both completed your respective tasks, you exchange answers, changing a few here and there so it isn't too suspicious
though at this point, you could care less about getting caught
now it's just english
you and pitts take this one a lot more seriously, since it's for keating's class - the only class you actively care about
there's so many balled up pieces of paper thrown into the bin in the corner of the room
pitts gets more and more frustrated, you swear he'll break his pencil if he isn't careful
you both bounce ideas off of each other, offering help and ideas whenever you can
if one of you gets a little too overwhelmed, you'll take a break, no matter how close you are to being done
pitts will open the window, letting you both stick your heads into the cold night air to calm down a little
or you’ll both stare at the ceiling for a bit letting your mind relax
then, it's back to work for an hour or so
finally you both finish your assignments and throw your pens down with a relieved sigh
hi fives all around
"we did it!"
you're both exhausted, and you're surprised you make it back to your dorm before absolutely passing out
but you know for a fact, this won't be the last time you both stress complete your homework
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as someone who always used to leave work til the last minute, i feel seen. i feel heard. this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoy!!! thanks again for the request bestie <33
taglist; @thesilverskull @mendesxruel @pretentious-strikes @tall-my-beloved @caffeineconstellations @aesthetixxluv @star-dust-2317
dead poets society masterlist <3
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raeandwhatnot · 3 years
Text
Study Break- Charlie Gillespie Imagine
Summary: You are doing an assignment for college and Charlie comes to the rescue!
Warnings: none just FLUFF
Words: 1.4k
A/N: Hello! This is my first one-shot/imagine, and I hope you like it! I am obsessed with jatp and Charlie right now, so expect that a lot right now XD I will soon be writing harry potter, marvel, and teen wolf stuff as well! Enjoy this Charlie Gillespie imagine!
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“Baaaabe?” I hear Charlie call out from down the hall. I look at the time to see it was 7PM. He must have just gotten home from work. I’ve been doing college assignments for the past four hours straight! I just couldn’t get these math problems right! I knew I should have taken my math credit sooner!
“I’m in our room!” I shout back. I rub my eyes to make sure that I don’t look so exhausted. I tried to continue doing my work when Charlie walks into our room. I turn my head to see he had Subway in his hands. “Aw, you got us dinner?”
Charlie chuckles, “Of course! I knew you would be working so much you would have forgotten to have dinner. Plus, I was hungry, and I didn’t want to make food. How is your work coming along, by the way?”
I shake my head and turn towards my computer, “I can’t figure out these last few problems! I am almost done, too! See, this is why I am a theatre major!” I exclaim in frustration.
Charlie sets down his backpack next to the bed, walks over to me, and kisses my forehead. “You need a break. Let’s eat,” Charlie says while his lips are still on my forehead. As much as I wanted to try to get this assignment done, I knew getting food in my body would make me feel better.
“What did you get me?” I ask while shutting my computer.
“I got you a six-inch meatball sub with cool ranch Doritos and two chocolate cookies. Just like you always get,” Charlie smiles and hands me my bag of food.
“Wow, I can’t believe you remembered my order!” I said in aw. Charlie and I have been dating for about four months now, and sometimes I can’t believe he remembers these little things like what I get from a random fast food place!
Charlie sits crisscross on the bed, “Babe, you get it every single time! How could I forget?”
I shrug my shoulders while unwrapping my sandwich, “I don’t know. It’s a small thing that I wouldn’t think someone besides my family would remember.”
Charlie shakes his head and chuckles, “You underestimate my memory! I am offended!” I roll my eyes at his sarcasm and take a bite of my food. Charlie then scoots on his side of the bed and pats on my side, “Come here, babe. Let’s watch some TV while we eat.”
I grab my bag and sit next to Charlie. He turns on the TV and changes it to Netflix so we can continue re-watching The Vampire Diaries. Once we were done eating our food, I snuggled up next to him. I could feel my eyes getting heavy from the long day of college assignments. When the episode ended, I almost fell asleep, but I quickly open my eyes and sit up so I don’t fall asleep. Charlie notices how tired I am, “Why not just end the day and get a goodnights rest.”
I shake my head and rub my eyes, “I can’t. I had my break, and now I need to finish this assignment tonight. I won’t want to tomorrow, so I need to do it now.” I get up from the bed and back to my desk to turn on the computer.
“(Y/N), it’s now 8 o’clock. You don’t like to do assignments this late!” Charlie says while throwing away our trash.
“I know, but I can’t leave this unfinished. It’s due tomorrow, and I wanted to turn it in a little early,” I say pulling up my work.
Charlie walks over to me and bends down to my level. “Well, I have missed you all day! Why don’t we cuddle while you finish?” Charlie asks.
I turn my face towards him to see that he was pouting like a child. I giggle at his actions and kiss his pouting lip. “Fine, but don’t distract me too much. I need to get a good grade.”
Charlie’s eyes light up, “I promise I won’t distract you!” Charlie pecks my lips and jumps on the bed. I grab my computer and notebook and follow Charlie to his spot. I sit right in front of him and lay on his chest with my computer and notebook on my lap. As I was doing my work, Charlie was on his phone while connected to his his airpods in one hand and with his other hand he is caressing my arm and thigh to help comfort me.
Time passes by, and I finally figure out the last few problems of my homework. I quickly turn it in and shut my computer. I toss my computer and notebook to the side, turn around, and I wrapped my arms around behind Charlie. He puts his phone down and takes an airpod out of one ear. “I’m guessing you’re done! I knew you would figure it out!” Charlie says as he places one hand on my back and one hand on my head.  
“That took too long. I can’t wait for this semester to be over so I don’t have to take math ever again,” I whine which is muffled against Charlie’s chest.
“I know, babe. You’ve just got a couple weeks left,” Charlie says while playing with my hair.
I groan loudly, “I know, but I just want to be done already!” Charlie chuckles at my complaining and kisses my forehead. I unwrap my arms around him and sit up to where I was sitting in front of Charlie. He looks at me with a goofy smile. “Thanks for putting up with me and my complaining with school.”
Charlie also sits up from his slouched position. “It’s nothing. College isn’t easy, and of course you are going to have rough patches along the way. You have every right to be frustrated at times,” Charlie says while pulling me closer to him.
“Yeah, but I feel like I just complain about it all the time. I just appreciate your patience,” I say while getting even closer to Charlie. Our faces were only a couple inches away.
“I’m always here for you,” Charlie smiles, his eyes flickering from my eyes to my lips. I smile back and kiss him lovingly. Charlie kisses back immediately and pulls me towards him. We end up laying on the bed, and I giggle in the kiss. Charlie pulls away as he turns the both of us on our side. He then rests his hand on my cheek and rubs his thumb on my cheek bone. “I’m super proud of you, (Y/N).”
I blush at his comment, “Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it.” As Charlie was rubbing his thumb on my cheek, I could feel my body telling me that it was time for bed. I kiss Charlie’s nose, “I am going to get ready for bed.”
“Yeah, I’m getting tired, too,” Charlie says while yawning. I give Charlie two more pecks on the lips and get off the bed. I grab clothes from my drawers and go into the bathroom to get changed. I quickly do my nightly routine so I can go back to cuddling with Charlie. Finally, I finish getting ready for bed and go back into our room. I see Charlie now changed into sweatpants and no shirt. He was on his phone texting. He then noticed I came back in a huge, baggy shirt and shorts. He puts his phone down, “I know you’re tired, but do we want to watch one more episode of Vampire Diaries?”
I look at the time to see that it was 8:30. “Yeah! We can watch one more episode. Plus, Klaus is about to come into the show!” I say while climbing into bed. Charlie clapped his hands and whispered a happy ‘yes’, and he turned on the TV back on so we can continue watching the show. Charlie pulls up his side of the covers to climb into bed with me. I rest my head on his shoulder and place my hand on his bare chest. Charlie rests his head onto mine and holds my hand that’s on his chest.
He gives me a quick kiss on my forehead, “I love you, babe.”
I look up to Charlie and say softly, “I love you, too!” He smiles down at me and pecks my lips. I go back to resting my head on his shoulder, and watch the show before we ended up falling asleep when the episode ended. 
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ravennm84 · 4 years
Text
The Laptop
So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!
It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved. 
Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”
Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.
“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”
Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”
A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu. 
A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!
The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.
Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.
Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot? 
The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now. 
Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.
Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”
“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”
Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”
“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”
Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”
“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.
“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”
“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”
Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”
Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”
“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”
“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”
“No, Mama! Please-”
“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?
Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door. 
Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter. 
Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”
“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”
“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”
“What!? But I didn’t do-”
“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”
Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.
Taglist:
@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance
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startanewdream · 3 years
Text
Godfather duty
Summary: When James is surprised by Sirius and Harry coming home drunk four in the morning, he questions himself when he got too old for that.
For @theblueocean 
Part of the Jily Lives AU
Rated M for mentions of underage drinking and some swearing.
Read on AO3 with all the correct italics, or below the cut:
_________
His eyelids feel heavy, but James keeps writing. He is almost finishing the first draft of the article for Transfiguration Today; it's due Sunday and he still has five days to finish it, but James is really anxious for presenting it. It's not his first paper for that magazine, but his article will be the headline this time, and he promised himself he would send them in advance as much as he could - and he still needs to send it to Minerva for her to read and review.
It feels a lot like he is back in school doing essays, but James doesn't remember being that excited back at Hogwarts - well, not about homework anyway.
He puts the final dot and lets the quill rest, satisfied. He will proofread in the morning, maybe even rewrite altogether from a different perspective, but it's done and it's a competent article, he knows.
Human transfiguration was always a point of interest to him.
He raises, stretching up and looking at his watch. It's past four in the morning already; he really lost track of time. He remembers Lily calling him to go to bed - and then he promised her he would go in a minute, which he clearly forgot.
He suppresses a yawn as he leaves the library, thinking only of sinking on his bed when he hears a sound coming from the front porch.
All his sleepiness is gone instantly, and he turns with his wand already raised, alarmed and with his instincts screaming even though it’s been months since the war ended; someone is turning the doorknob. The spell is almost leaving his lips when the door opens wide and he sees Harry's joyful face.
Harry is not alone; Sirius is with him, their arms around each other in a brotherly gesture and for a moment James has a flashback of himself with Sirius with that same easiness, both of them beaming happily and goofy; it's a memory of twenty years ago, of a night they went around Muggle London joining a pub crawl that ended up with James' mother finding them passed out in the middle of the Potter’s living room in Godric’s Hollows.
A lot of things happened that night - a flight from the Muggle police when they tried to climb Cleopatra’s Needle, an attempt to perform a serenade to Lily only to realize they were on the wrong street and throwing eggs at Grimmauld Place number twelve - but what he remembers clearer is the smell of the alcohol on him as he woke up next morning - and then the taste of it all as he threw it all up.
And right now Sirius and Harry have that same smell of cheap whiskey mixed with beer.
James blinks, confused. As far as he thought, Harry had been back from work hours ago - James was sure Harry had been sleeping on his bed right now.
It’s evident he was wrong.
‘Hi, Prongs’, Sirius says, grinning from ear-to-ear, sounding much steadier than James would have guessed from the smell coming from them. ‘Care to let us in?’
'What's going on?', James asks, worried, stepping aside to let them enter. Both of them are stumbling, but James has the impression that Sirius is supporting Harry more than the opposite.
For some reason his question makes them look at each other.
'What I said?', Sirius asks Harry as if they are sharing some old joke. Harry lets out of one of his rare carefree giggles. 'What d'you think we are doing, dear Prongs?'
'Coming home drunk in the middle of the night?’
‘Chill out, Dad’, Harry says, winking at him.
Chill out?
‘It’s four in the morning of a Tuesday - I thought you were home already!’
‘I had to work late’, Harry answers immediately, grinning. Sirius takes him to the living room, trying to help him on the couch, but Harry slides to the floor, falling on the carpet.
‘On a bar?’
‘It’s for work’, Harry insists, eyes open as if that was obvious. 
‘It was a very important mission’, Sirius agrees. ‘Stealth. Mixing with locals. Spying on people’.
‘Oh, were there Death Eaters on that bar?’, James asks, rolling his eyes.
‘It could have been! Harry needs to know how to handle his alcohol!’
Harry giggles.
‘I handle it very well’, he says proudly, clapping his hands. ‘Tell him, Sirius’.
‘He won us money on darts. He even closed his eyes for the last shot. You would be proud!’
‘That you were letting my barely out-of-age kid bet on games?’
Sirius rolls his eyes.
‘Everything was under control, he won. Stop worrying, I was on godfather duty tonight -’
‘Between a drink and another, you mean?’
‘ - and I brought him home, right?’
‘Speaking of that’, James raises his eyebrows, now sounding openly reproachful. ‘How did you come home? Don’t tell me you drank and apparated’.
‘I would never!’
‘Or that motorbike - if you came here flying, I swear I will -’
‘Relax, Dad!’, Harry intervenes, now raising on a jump, ignoring how he tumbles in the process. ‘We got a cab. Eeeeeeverything under control’.
James watches his son go to the cabinet in the room, searching for something until he takes out a feather to doodle something on a parchment, not realizing it’s a grocery list.
‘I see the control’, he says dryly. ‘What are you doing, Harry?’
‘I am making a howler’.
‘What? What for?’
‘To howl, duh - hey!’, he turns to Sirius, his eyes sparkling madly. ‘Remus never sends letters - he only sends howlers!’
Sirius chuckles. ‘I howl too! Owoooooo!’
‘Hey, hey, you are going to wake up Lily!’
‘And?’
‘And maybe you don’t want her to see what you did to Harry - Harry, stop that, you are not sending anyone a howler’.
‘I have to tell Ginny I love her!’
‘She already knows, I am sure, you’ve told her’.
‘But I never yelled it!’
‘And she loves you more because of that, come on, give me that letter’.
‘I knew he wouldn’t let you send it’, Sirius says, his voice now smug. ‘Prongsie is old’.
James rolls his eyes.
‘Same age as you, Pads’, he remembers distantly, taking the letter from Harry, though now he realizes he didn’t need to worry. Harry’s letter is unintelligible and he doubts he could cast the spell to turn into a howler.
Harry pouts.
‘Sirius is right, you are square’.
‘What?’
‘We can never have fun’.
‘And you are so serious - more than me, haha!’, Sirius adds, now laying down lazily on the couch, his legs spread. James is about to complain that his shoes are all muddy and Sirius should take them out, but he stops.
Oh, Merlin, he is really getting a bit square, isn’t he?
‘I can be fun’, he stresses, making Sirius let out one of his bark laughs.
‘Yeah, years ago. Before you were a dad - no offence, Harry’.
Harry doesn’t seem to have heard him, which James considers a shame. Harry would surely defend him - he was a cool dad to Harry.
No, he is still a cool dad. The kind that Harry can feel at will to talk about anything, that supports Harry and that is always there for him.
Except that Harry didn’t tell him about working late tonight or going to a bar. Except Harry and Sirius didn’t ask for his company.
And if they did - he thinks of the paper he just finished and how excited he was for it.
He would have said no.
That’s not very cool of him.
‘I will take a flight!’, Harry declares, his eyes shining with this idea and for once James doesn’t feel satisfied with the mischievousness in him.
‘No drinking and flying’, James says sternly, and he decides that he will have to remain uncool for a little longer. ‘You - you stay here! Sirius - watch him. Better than you did so far, I mean’.
Sirius grimaces, evidently annoyed, but he sits next to Harry, who is now mumbling something incomprehensible, though Sirius seems to be listening to him with attention. James leaves them in the living room, locking the door behind him just in case, and goes to Lily’s office hoping she has stored a Hangover Potion. He is in no luck, of course; it’s been years since he and Lily even needed one - James believes it comes with the age knowing when to stop - and there was nothing in Harry’s latest behaviour that showed them they would need it.
For a second James almost considers waking up Lily, knowing she would make the potion in minutes, but he doesn’t want her to see the mess Harry is right now; it’s far better she hears it later than witnessing first hand. He grabs a small cauldron and the ingredients he will need and returns to the living room.
In the few minutes he was out, Harry and Sirius managed to make things strangely worse. There is snow in the room, that he sees Sirius casting from his wand; Harry is perfectly still, the snow making a sort of white hat on his head, his arms wide open and also covered in snow.
‘What -’, James tries to ask, but he just blinks at the weirdness on the scene.
‘Shhhh’, Sirius says, a finger on his lips. ‘Don’t distract him!’
‘What is Harry doing?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? Disguise training! He is a snowman!’
‘He is missing a carrot nose’, James notes, grimacing, and that makes Sirius turn his wand to Harry’s face. ‘I am joking!’
It’s too late; there is a flash of light and then there is a carrot on Harry’s face, replacing his nose.
‘Sirius!’, Harry complains, raising his hand to touch his new nose. His voice is muffled. ‘I can’t have a nose this big! How can I snog Ginny now?’
‘That’s your concern?’, James asks, half-amused, now taking out Sirius’ wand to make sure he doesn’t cast any more magic.
‘I will poke her in the eye!’, Harry says, moping, scratching the tip of his pointy nose thoughtfully.
‘I will transform you back as soon as you drink this potion, now lay still’. Harry sighs, sitting on the couch. Sirius sits next to him, patching him in the back as if he weren’t the one that turned Harry’s nose into a carrot in the first place.
‘Your nose matches her hair’, he says bracingly. ‘You will look beautiful together’.
‘I am not sure this is much comfort, Padfoot’, James notes, placing the cauldron in the fireplace and starting to throw in the ingredients. He could add something for the taste, but he believes the bitterness helps build character.
‘Well, I got him quiet, didn’t I?’, Sirius asks, pointing at Harry who is now sitting on the couch, still playing with his carrot nose.
‘You could have messed up so badly’.
‘I am not that drunk - I watched over your kid, no matter what you think of me’.
James shakes his head.
‘Letting him drink that much? He barely can stand - what if someone -’
‘The war is over, James’, Sirius tells him, sounding much grim now. ‘And like I said, I was there. Me, half-a-dozen junior Aurors and some seniors too’.
‘Unless any Death Eater threat would be a challenge to a drinking contest, I don’t think it would make much difference’.
‘Oh, Merlin’. Sirius sighs, walking to the drink cabinet and opening it to take a bottle of firewhiskey. ‘Here, drink this’.
‘What?’
‘You are sober, I hate talking to sober people when I am pissed. Sober people are boring’.
‘I am not boring’, James complains, pushing away the bottle that Sirius extends in his direction. ‘And I am past the age of being forced to drink to look cool’.
‘Then drink because it’s nice!’, Sirius says forcefully now. ‘Drink because you are alive! Drink because you are happy! Drink because for the first time in his life your son is properly pissed!’
‘That’s not a reason -’
‘That’s enough reason! He is eighteen! What age were we when we first got pissed?’
‘Seventeen’. Sirius raises his eyebrows, waiting for him, and James flushes, turning his attention to the cauldron. The potion is almost over. ‘Fine, fifteen - but it didn’t count, we weren’t thinking straight then’.
‘Yeah. Our first transformation’, Sirius remembers, but there is something heavy on his voice now.
‘What is the problem, Padfoot?’
‘Nothing’. 
That makes James stop. He takes the cauldron out of the fire, to let the potion cool down, and turns to Sirius, watching him. Sirius’ eyes are watery as he always gets when he drinks, but he sustains James’ look for a surprisingly full two minutes before he sighs.
‘Fine, you are the problem’.
‘Me? You take my son out for a drink without telling me, return home four in the morning and I am the problem?’
‘Look at what you are saying! He is of age! He was with his friends - and his very trustable godfather! He was having fun for once in his life, instead of living that responsible life you want for him’.
‘Responsible?’, James repeats, dumbfounded. Nobody had ever accused him of wanting to do the responsible thing. ‘I am just being his father’.
‘Well, maybe Harry doesn’t need his father anymore’.
There is a long pause after that. James blinks, once, twice, very slowly, trying to understand what Sirius means by that, and it’s only when he reaches for the drink cabinet to get a glass for the potion, that Sirius moves.
‘Shit - I didn’t mean like that - sorry, James, it’s not -’
‘No, I get it’, James says, his voice forcefully steady. ‘Harry wants the cool father figure that allows him everything - and, well, Sirius “what’s life without a little risk” Black is perfect for that’.
‘Don’t be absurd - that kid worships the ground you walk upon -’
‘And yet he was with you, not me. I get it. I am a father, not a friend’. He offers Sirius a full glass. ‘Drink this, you’ll feel better tomorrow’.
‘No, I deserve the hangover tomorrow, but that’s beside the point. It’s my fault’.
‘I don’t think you forced Harry to drink’, James notes dryly, sitting next to Harry to help him drink the potion. Harry seems to be in another world now, but he obliges to James’ help without questioning.
‘No, that was all on him - I mean it, he’d make you proud, he won a drinking contest with Thompson and he is twice Harry’s size - er, not helping, sorry’. Sirius sits on the other side of Harry. ‘He was going to tell you we’d be out for a drink. And I didn't let him'.
'Why? Why would you -'
'Because I thought you would overreact. Worry too much about him. Don't let him have any fun'.
'I would not -'
'And because I thought he'd ask you to come’.
James blinks. Between them, Harry lays his head on James' shoulder, now watching Sirius with mild curiosity.
‘I would ask’, he agrees, a note of pride in his voice. 
'Am I that bad company?', James asks in a low voice. Sirius shakes his head.
'Would you come with us?', he challenges. James keeps his gaze for a few seconds, but just like Sirius didn't lie for him before, he wouldn't dare speak anything but the truth.
'No, I had things to do today'.
'That article', Sirius scoffs. 'You don't talk about anything else'.
James frowns.
'It's really important - a chance of -'
'Getting yourself a name, I know, I know. But see -', his grey eyes are burning over James now, somewhat desperate. 'The Prongs I know would never care for reputation'.
'Sirius…'
'The Prongs I know would be honest with me'.
'I am - what are you -'
'I heard you and Kingsley, ok?', he blows off. 'Registering as an animagus? After all this time?'
There is another silence, broken only by the crackling fire.
'I was going to tell you', James says finally. 'I didn't think it was important - you don't have to register too -'
'That's not the point - you are breaking our trust -'
'It's just an entry on a list. It doesn’t change anything, I will keep our full moon nights -'
'When Remus has time, you mean?', he asks, sounding bitter now. 'He missed the last two, he'd rather stay home -'
'He has a kid now -'
'So do you and… you guys are getting old and responsible and too serious for me'.
'Nobody is more serious than you', James says, smiling at him, but Sirius just rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle of firewhiskey on the coffee table, taking a sip.
James extends his hand. Sirius raises one eyebrow, in disbelief, and his expression only relaxes a little when James takes a long sip of the firewhiskey. The drink burns his throat, infusing him with that weird dose of courage and a will to do something, but James just sighs.
'You are no less serious because of it', Sirius notes.
'I got serious - the war, the first one and then the second one and everything - and I think I forgot how to relax - but that doesn't mean… you are my brother, Sirius'.
'The annoying prettier baby brother?'
'You are older', James says, grinning, and after a second of hesitation, Sirius smiles too. 'You can invite me - I mean, we can do things together. Even if it sounds - or is - stupid'.
'Things together like… registering our animagus form?'
James rests against the couch, and Harry moves his head to rest more comfortably on his shoulders; James thinks he will sleep soon.
'You don't need to do it too - Kingsley already knows about you and he is the bloody Minister of Magic, isn't he? This was not about doing the responsible thing'.
'Then why -'
'I want the credit'. James presses his lips, before admitting something he didn't even share with Lily yet. 'I talked to Minerva - if I get back to my studies, get enough recommendation to be approved by the board, I could get her position'.
Sirius blinks, startled.
'Her position? You mean -'
'Transfiguration professor, yeah'.
He looks away now, feeling somewhat embarrassed. It had never really been an ambition - teaching was much more something Remus had always wanted to do than him; James had been glad to focus on his studies and develop new theories of transfiguration until then. 
But ever since Minerva had vented that possibility to him a few weeks after the end of the war, when they were repairing one of the halls destroyed in the battle, that thought had been on his mind. He wasn't in a rush, but the idea of getting back to Hogwarts, this time as a professor, watching other students learn from him as much as he had learned from Minerva McGonagall… he couldn't deny that idea had taken root in his mind.
James always teased her that he had been her favourite student, but the fact was that she was his favourite professor and there was some part of him that wanted to impress her and prove himself good enough to replace her someday.
He waits for Sirius' response, but there is only a silence that doesn't seem good.
'I know it's huge', James mumbles. 'There are others far more capacitated than me, I am starting now to -'
'Shut your mouth, Prongs', interrupts Sirius, and James turns to him. There is a grin on his face. 'Being humble never suited you'.
James laughs softly.
'I wasn’t trying to', he assures him.
'I thought - I thought you had wanted to do the right thing. You know, registering just because you wanted to follow the law, as if… as if you were ashamed of what we did illegally -'
'Now it's you who needs to shut up, Padfoot'. He takes another sip of the firewhiskey. ‘Animagus at age of fifteen? I’m damn proud of it. Also, that’s the only thing that I have done that’s cooler than half the stuff Harry got into’.
‘Yeah, I suppose it’s hard when your son is a bloody hero’.
Harry chooses that moment to start snoring loudly, which sends James and Sirius into a fit of laughter. James raises, careful to let Harry sleep on the couch, and Harry doesn’t look remotely close to waking up.
‘I am glad you took him out for a drink’, James says, taking out Harry’s glasses. ‘I was just jealous - it should have been me’.
‘I am sure there will be another occasion’, Sirius says dismissively. ‘He will probably forget every embarrassing thing he did, you know how that works’.
‘Oh, he embarrassed himself?’, James asks, a glint of fun on his eyes. Sirius smirks.
‘That happy giggling Harry you saw? Just the last stage. He was all cocky at first - that’s how we got into that darts bet’.
‘Harry? My son? Cocky?’
‘Oh, yeah, he reminded me a lot of you’, Sirius’ smirk increases. ‘He was strutting and all’.
‘Tell me you took pictures of it’.
‘I would never’, Sirius declares, though James isn’t sure he believes him this time. ‘And then he got very… honest’.
‘That doesn’t sound good for that stealth mission’.
Sirius shakes his head.
‘If he was spilling out Auror secrets I would be happier - no, instead I had to hear about the time he and Ginny -’
‘Nope, nope, I don’t want to know’.
‘Well, me neither, I won’t ever use your Invisibility Cloak again, you can be sure. But anyway - that’s why he got here so drunk. I decided vodka was the only way to shut him up properly’.
Sirius looks so satisfied with himself and his choices, that James knows what he has to do.
‘It’s late’, he says pleasantly. ‘Crash here tonight’.
‘Oh, I think I will - I am not fit to apparate’.
‘Let’s go upstairs then’.
‘And Harry?’
‘Oh, look at him. He is sleeping so well, he can stay here tonight’.
‘If you are sure’.
‘Yeah, yeah, everything will be fine’.
_________
James has slept barely four hours when he wakes up with Lily’s cry. He puts on his robe lazily, waiting a few minutes to go downstairs; when he passes Sirius’ room, the door is already opened.
Good.
He finds them all together in the toilet next to the kitchen, and by the sounds coming out of there, his Hangover Potion wasn’t very efficient.
‘We were working late, Lily’, Sirius is saying, sounding properly desperate. ‘And we went out for a drink -’
‘It was a Tuesday night! He has to work in one hour!’
‘So do I - but you see, I’m his boss, so everything is fine! Also, I don’t think any of the boys will show up -’
‘Perfect’, Lily interrupts him, her eyes sending daggers in Sirius’ direction. ‘Then you can take care of him’. She sees James. ‘Did you know about this?’
‘Me? I was working late on my text, you know’, he answers, yawning and looking very innocent.
Sirius waits until Lily is out for the kitchen to turn to James, his eyes narrowed.
‘You knew she would be mad. That’s why you told me to stick around’.
‘If I knew how my dear wife would react to knowing you got our son pissed? How could I?’
Sirius grimaces as there is another retching sound coming from the bathroom.
‘Oh, you better go there and don’t forget to keep Harry hydrated’.
‘Watch it’, Sirius says, but he goes into the bathroom anyway. ‘I won’t ever show you the pictures’.
James shrugs, undisturbed.
‘That’s fine. Next time Harry gets drunk, I will be there’.
‘I won’t ever ever ever drink again’, Harry moans, hugging the toilet seat now, his face sweaty.
‘Oh, kid, we’ve all been there’, Sirius sighs, flushing down the toilet and helping Harry raise.
James grins to himself, glad that Sirius is doing his godfather duty once again, and leaves them alone.
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dreadpoetssociety · 4 years
Text
That’s Not Some Girl, That’s My Sister
TW: Abuse, physical injuries
Request: 
I noticed you wrote Spencer X Sister!Reader. I was wondering if you could write a Penelope Garcia X Little!Sister!Reader. When their parents died Y/N was just born so she was put into foster care because Garcia couldn’t care for her. Garcia visits her every chance they get and they keep in touch 24/7. What Garcia doesn’t know is that Y/N is being abused at her foster home. When she turns 16 it gets so bad that she can barely move. One day she walks into the bau bloodied and bruised... (1/?) Morgan notices her, (The team doesn’t know she exists) and is like, “Hey kid you alright?” She drops to the floor and Garcia comes out to prep the team for a case and sees her on the floor. She drops her papers and runs over, holding her close. The team, who don’t know Y/N come out and ask what’s wrong and Morgan says that some kid walked in bleeding. Garcia gets defensive and says, “She’s not some kid, she’s my sister and her name is Y/N” They bring her to the hospital and... (2/3) and Garcia does her magic to get her foster parents arrested and she adopts her. And then the whole team welcomes her and it’s super fluffy ending? Sorry this was so long. Thank you so much❤️ If you don’t want to do this request you can delete it, sorry about that :) (3/3)
Note: Remember how I said there would be no fics tonight because I have school in the morning and didn’t do homework? Well, I lied. Please feel free to send me more requests! To those who already have, just know that I am working on ALL of them. Also, realizing now that I didn’t exactly stick to this prompt regarding the part where Y/N walks in and Garcia sees her, but hopefully it is still okay!!!
Penelope Garcia x Sister!Reader
()()()()()()
It wasn’t so much that Penelope Garcia had kept you a secret, but that you had never come up in conversation. Never once had anyone asked if the tech goddess had siblings. The team never found it their business to question after knowing the water of your parents. She also believed that the less they knew, the safer you were from the criminals that the analyst helped to catch.
Unbeknownst to her, however, this was far from the truth.
You never knew your parents like your sister did. You had just been born, and Penelope was deemed unable to care for you, you had no other family, so you wound up in foster care. You’d gone from house to house, family to family, but no matter where you were, you were always in contact with your elder sister. You were allowed to visit each other regularly, and those visits were the only thing you looked forward to. The only times you felt safe.
You were actually just leaving a visit for lunch with Penelope and walking towards her as you passed by a large building.
“Y/N, I didn’t even realized we walked by, but this is where I work!” the blonde said with a smile.
“Really? The FBI is just out here?” you asked.
“Pretty much.” she replied, and then her eyes grew wide and a gasp escaped her lips, “Oh my goodness, Y/N, you should visit sometime.”
“Finally!” you exclaimed, “I have ALWAYS wanted to visit, but didn’t want to invite myself.” your sister laughed.
“I haven’t really told them about you. I was never really sure how, but it seems like a good enough time now that you’re 16.” As you stepped closer and closer to the car, your mood began to drop, not knowing what pain would face you at home this time. You figured you could tell Penelope, but you’d been in many abusive foster homes, the most they would do is just move you to another one, if anything at all, and you could never ask your sister to take you in as her responsibility. From what she’s said, her job is very stressful, and you figured you would just add to that.
It wasn’t long before you were at your doorstep waving goodbye. Sighing, you turned and creaked open he door that led straight to your living hell. Joseph, your foster father, was on his stingy recliner, bottles of various different alcohols surrounded him. He himself, however, was asleep. You hated him. You could not wait for the day that you were set free from this place, the day you could finally fight him back. The man was a drunk, and a violent one at that. And even then, it’s nowhere near as bad than when he was sober. He knew how to hurt more when he was thinking straight. You tried to tiptoe around him to get to your room, but knocked something over, waking him up. Your heart genuinely stopped. You knew what would happen next.
The greasy man woke, and both of you locked eyes as he slowly sat up.
“Now, what the hell did I tell you about making noise?” he slurred loudly as he approached you, “Huh, brat?”
“I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident, it won’t happen again.” you said nervously. It was then that you both looked down at what had fell, and it was a glass decoration, which had now shattered into pieces. You knew you were in for it in that moment.
And Joseph didn’t hesitate. He hit you across the face, knocking you to the ground with your arm landing on some of the glass. You screamed out in pain, which resulted with more violence from the man standing over you.
“Clean it up!” he screamed, “Right now!” you tried to get up to get the broom, but he shoved you back down.
“With your hands.” he said. You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, when he put his foot on the top of your head, pushing your face down. Small shards cut up your cheek. You began to pick up pieces of the glass, one cutting you every now and then. Joseph kicked or punched every so often when he thought you were not doing a good enough job. By the end, you could barely move. You were bleeding everywhere, Joseph had knocked the wind out of you, hit and punched and kicked in any area he could have. At this point, you really thought you were going to die. And for a split second, you were almost relieved by the thought.
Eventually, Joseph passed out again on his recliner while you laid motionless on the floor nearby. It was then that you decided.  You didn’t care what happened to you next, but you were not coming back to this house.
()()()()()()
How you even made it to the building your sister pointed out to you earlier was beyond you.  It had taken you so long to move your body there that it was late at night now. You moved swiftly through the building, and reading the signs with the departments and their floors, you spotted the BAU. How nobody spotted you was also surprising. This was, after all, an FBI building, and you were a 16 year old girl who could barely stay conscious, bleeding from every pore and bruised at every inch.
The elevator brought you to a set of glass doors. There were desks everywhere, but most were empty. It seemed as though the room at the top of the small set of stairs was having a meeting, though, and you thought maybe Penelope was there. You hoped so badly that she was there. You got blood on the handle opening the door.
A man turned around from a coffee machine at the sound of your entering. He dropped his cup quickly and ran to you.
“Hey, kid? You alright?” he questioned, knowing that you obviously were not. You felt everything slipping away from you in that moment, and the world around you went dark.
()()()()()()
“Guys? Get out here, now!” Morgan yelled as he fell with you to the floor, getting your blood on his shirt and his hands. Your whole team came rushing out of the room where Garcia had been briefing a case.
“What happened?” Hotch asked, practically jumping the stairs.
“I don’t know, this girl just came in and just passed out like this.” Morgan replied. Garcia had been behind Spencer, and when she stepped around him, her whole world was destroyed.
“Morgan!” she screamed, “That’s not some girl, that’s my sister, and her name is Y/N! Oh my god.” she ran to your unconscious body, dropping papers and a remote, and fell to her knees to hold you close. Spencer, even though he knew you had only just fell unconscious, walked over and put two fingers to your neck to check for a pulse, and was quite relieved when he found one.
“Call an ambulance,” Garcia sobbed, “please. Someone please.”
“An ambulance coming here would take too long given the traffic. It doesn’t seem to be fatal, let’s take her in one of the SUVs” Spencer suggested. Garcia nodded.
Morgan picked you up, JJ and Emily helped Garcia to the car, while Spencer drove since he would know the fastest route. Rossi stayed behind. You were asleep in the hospital for hours due to the fact that they kept you under in order to remove all the glass shards hidden throughout your skin. Your eyes and arms and torso were bruised heavily, but thankfully nothing was broken.
You were met with a group of people you’d never seen before when you woke up. Searching around the room you realized you were in a hospital bed, and soon enough remembered what brought you there.
“Huh?” was all you said. Penelope shot up instantly, smiling at you with tears in her eyes.
“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re awake. What happened to you?” she cried. You blinked for a few seconds.
“Garcia, she just woke up, she might not be able to talk about it, yet.” JJ reminded. It was quiet for a moment, until you spoke again.
“Joseph.” you said. You were waking up a little more now, pain spread through your body slowly and you winced with every move. Trying to sit up, you were quickly, but softly, pushed back down by a man in a black t-shirt.
“No, kid, you need to rest.” he said, “Who’s this Joseph? I just want to have a little chat.”
“My foster father.” you sighed. Everybody’s face in the room dropped, especially Penelope’s upon finding out you weren’t safe at home anymore.
“Y/N. . . “ she sobbed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you with it.” you shrugged, which send a chilling pain from your shoulder to the ends of your toes, and you groaned.
“Take it easy, kid.”
“Y/N M/N Garcia,” Penelope replied firmly, “You have not ever been, nor will you ever be a bother to me. Especially, ESPECIALLY, if you aren’t in a safe situation. I would do anything for you, Y/N. We’re getting you out of that house. When you’re in a dangerous situation don’t you ever think not to tell someone, Y/N.”
She thought for a moment, “In fact, we’re going to do something I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to adopt you. No more foster homes, we’ll be together more often, you’ll be safe.”
“Really?” you smiled.
“Yes, really. And we’re throwing Joseph in prison.” you’d never heard anger in Penelope’s voice like you were hearing right now. For a moment, you both cried together. You knew now that you should’ve mentioned it sooner, but that also you weren’t going to have to worry about it anymore. All the pain, it was going to go away. Not mentally, not completely yet, but you were never going to go home and be afraid of what would happen when you stepped through the door. Instead, you would be excited, for every laugh, every smile, every story, every memory that you were going to make with your sister. 
“By the way,” you sniffed, “who are all these people?”
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, “This is my team! That’s Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, JJ, Emily Prentiss, and Derek Morgan.”
“You,” you pointed weakly at Morgan, “you’re the one who calls her ‘Baby Girl.’” the man laughed.
“The one and only.”
“And you,” you pointed at Spencer, “you’re the genius one right? The one that does magic. Tell me a fact.”
“Uh,” he thought for a second, “V616 is the closest back hole to planet Earth. It’s actually 3,000 light years away. Also, black holes warp time and space. If you put a clock in a black hole, but you stood outside of it, it would actually appear to be ticking slower.”
“Of course.” Morgan says, “Of course you would know that.”
“She asked.” the tall man shrugged with a smirk, “I’ve got plenty more of those, too. And yes, magic tricks.”
You turned toward JJ and Emily, “You guys are like, her best friends.”
The two nodded, “Wouldn’t want to be anyone else.” JJ replied. Lastly, you turned to Hotch.
“Boss.”
“Yes.” was all he said in response.
“Why are you all here though?” you asked, “You don’t even know me.”
All of them were quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say, when Emily spoke up.
“Garcia’s family. So you’re family.” the rest of them seemed to agree. You smiled at your apparently newfound family, “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”
Although you ended up falling asleep from the drugs that they gave you for the pain, the next few days consisted of getting to know Penelope’s team. Spencer spent hours telling you things and doing magic tricks, while Morgan, JJ, and Emily told you stories of your sister while she sat and laughed. Hotch visited a few times here and there to check up and say hello.
You began to realize soon enough that a new chapter was about to begin, one without abuse, without Joseph, and with your sister that you looked up to more than ever, and her team that treated you like their own. In the beginning, you were told you might not have enough evidence on Joseph to get him arrested, which all of you found to be complete bull. You were completely laid up in a hospital because of him, but in the end, your tech genius sister “accidentally” happened across some illegal files embedded in his computer, along with multiple abuse complaints about him that just so happened to get the court to allow you to live with Penelope, and Joseph in prison.
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