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daechwitatamic · 1 year

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I. Your Wild-Running Heart || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Friday August 28

“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”

Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”

It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.

You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”

“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”

How nice of him to ask.

You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.

So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast.

“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”

“What about clean?” you prod.

Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”

You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.

“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.

He grins at you, guilty as charged.

“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”

“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical.

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”

The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate.

“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”

“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”

After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet.

You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm.

No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own.

Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.

You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.

You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild.

Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”

And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still.

You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile.

You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own.

Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.

“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.

“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say.

Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best.

Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”

Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”

You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured.

“Thanks,” you say.

She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”

She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.

[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?

[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me

[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?

[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?

[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time

[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤

[12:02 AM] You: 9:30

[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???

[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[12:08 AM] You: love u tete

[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too

You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.

Saturday August 29

Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live.

It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit.

In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination.

The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap.

The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be.

What if you said it? What if you told him?

Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too.

But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down.

You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.

After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.

“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”

You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”

“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.

You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own.

“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.

“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.

You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.

You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.

You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon.

You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.

You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later.

The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books.

“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”

You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place.

Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you.

“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”

You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.

“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”

“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”

Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.

“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”

“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”

“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.

“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”

He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”

“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”

Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”

“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”

He reads you like a book; he always does.

“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”

Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.

You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping.

You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you.

When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.

“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”

The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around.

“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open.

“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.

“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.

“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.

“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”

“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”

He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting.

“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”

“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”

“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”

Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”

You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.

“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.

You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”

“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”

Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.

You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung.

“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.

You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing.

Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”

He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure.

“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully.

He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests.

“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”

“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms.

Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans.

You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels.

The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.

You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.

Sunday August 30

Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around.

You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night.

You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.

The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.

There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall.

“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”

He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”

You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands.

“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.

The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.

“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”

He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”

“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.

One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.

“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”

“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.

You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet.

“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.

“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”

“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”

“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.

You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water.

Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.

You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later.

You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store.

You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment.

“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.

“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”

“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.

You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.

When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.

By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place.

You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.

You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.

“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room.

“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.

“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”

You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.

“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”

Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”

“Mhm,” you confirm.

After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over.

“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.

“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”

Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”

You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.

“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?”

“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”

“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes.

“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking.

This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.

Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.

“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”

“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.

“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”

“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”

“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently.

Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”

“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”

“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.

“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away.

The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does.

“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”

“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”

After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones.

You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is.

Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit.

“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.

“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.”

Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.

“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.

“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”

Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place.

But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former.

Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise.

You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)

Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time?

Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.

That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work.

And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable?

Probably.

You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.

Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious.

If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone.

Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.

Next ->

Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!

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kedreeva · 1 year

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#wow now i hate nancy even more like what an overly critical bitch#it's not even bad jfc#wtf was her point other than stomping down on steve and constantly saying how stupid he is#god i hate that cheating bitch who thinks she's so much better and smarter than everyone#stranger things (via @captaincoffeegirl515)

So I get you're mad, but also, this isn't cool. Hating on characters in tags of posts that you didn't make isn't cool. Hating on Nancy isn't cool, either. Fandom isn't and shouldn't be about hate. If fandom is making you angry enough to spew vitriol like this, you may need to step back and take a breather.

If you actually watch the scene this is about, she isn't calling Steve stupid. She doesn't make fun of him, she doesn't even tell him it's bad. He assumes, from her face as she reads, that she thinks it's bad, that she thinks he's bad at writing. Even if he was (which that essay argues he isn't, and I don't think he is), and even if she did (which I don't think she does), she does not say so. In fact she's only encouraging wrt to the paper itself.

Before Nancy even says anything at all, Steve says "It's crap, I know" and Nancy's immediate reaction is to say "No, it's not crap!" Steve then insists "It's not good," and Nancy's response is an affectionate smile and "It's going to be! It just needs some reorganizing." She's not even talking about editing the writing itself or the concepts! She gently asks if she can mark on his paper - respecting that he might not want her to help that directly even after he's clearly asked her to look at it, which is loads better than some commenters I've seen on AO3 these days - and he agrees.

And the thing is? She's being kind about the editing she does do! Literally the first thing she does is tell him she sees the metaphor he's using (acknowledging that she knows he understands metaphor enough to create his own from scratch) and tells him it's a great metaphor. When she does point out something that needs addressing, she doesn't tell him "you did this wrong" she tells him "I don't see how they're connected." Do you know what that is? That's straight up gentle help. That's "you have connected these, I am not saying they are not connected, I am just saying I don't see the connection." I don't do a lot of editing but I've had a lot of editing done at me, and this language is so kind. It does not invalidate the thing the writer is trying to do, it just tells them that if they want to make that point, they have to elaborate to make it clearer to people who aren't inside their head with them. That's a perfectly valid critique and she is giving it to him very softly.

He then explains the point and she turns back to the paper to start rereading when he interrupts to ask if he should start from scratch and she immediately tells him no. She asks about the deadline, he tells her it's tomorrow (for early acceptance, which means Steve is trying to get this in early but also that he's waited until the last second for that), and then he asks if she can come over and help him with it (which a) is him forgetting they already have plans and b) is asking her to give up her plans to do work with him on short notice when he probably had time before this he could have asked. I say this to make it clear that her reaction isn't out of the blue or unjustified).

Nancy, who is still torn up over her best friend being brutally murdered on her watch while she was right there after brushing Barb off, and who still feels horribly guilty about having to lie to Barb's parents about it all, says no, remember they have dinner with Barb's parents that they already bailed on last week- ie, Nancy doesn't want to brush off Barb's parents again when brushing off Barb is what got Barb killed. She even tells Steve "You don't have to go" and suggests he work on the paper instead, giving him an easy out. And he grabs the paper and crumples it and does the thing that raises my hackles saying what's the point and acting like trying won't matter and he may as well give up on it because it wasn't instantly perfect the first time.

The point of contention in this scene is NOT that Nancy is telling him he's stupid, it's NOT that she thinks his paper is crap. The point of contention is that Steve desperately wants life to move forward away from the terrible thing that happened to them, and Nancy cannot walk away from the past that left her so damaged. He wants to focus on a paper to get him into a college (I like to think it's the one she wants to go to, so they can stay together, but that's just a theory), and she wants to go wallow in a sad dinner with the grieving parents of her dead best friend. That is the argument. It has nothing to do with his paper except that the paper is a device to show he's trying to move forward and the dinner is showing that she's stuck in the past.

This also isn't Nancy thinking she's better or smarter than anyone. This is Steve being faced with having to care about schoolwork because for maybe the first time in his life the result of his written work matters to him and he's very easily frustrated by not being immediately successful, and Nancy being so wrecked by the trauma she went through that she's barely keeping her own head above water, such that she cannot help him the way he needs despite wanting to. This isn't anyone treating anyone badly out of malice or being a bad person; this is incompatibility rearing its head and getting ready to bare its teeth. This is their trauma responses butting heads. This is the first whisper of how much they don't and can't fit right now. It is the first sign that they aren't going to stay together.

I don't doubt that they love each other. It's not even a question to me. But despite the idea sold to so many people in story and song, love isn't enough. It can't be the only thing. You can love someone to the moon and back but if you don't fit, you don't fit- and trying to carve yourself into the right shape will do far more harm than good. And that's what we'll see them realize, later, and that's why they split apart. Not malice, not meanness, not even apathy. They care so much in opposite directions that they're liable to tear each other apart trying to stay together, and instead of forcing it to break them the way he did in season 1, Steve will end up letting go this time. And personally, I think that's an awesome display of character growth.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #wank for ts #stranger things meta #and I just want to say that like #if you think you love steve but you hate nancy this much #you don't love steve #I absolutely don't want them to get together for a lot of reasons #but he loves her still #and she loves him still #and that should matter #it should matter as much as steve and robin's love matters #because there's something deep there #and romance isn't the only outlet #I would take the intimate knowledge that someone would kill for me #over romance any day #anyway we don't hate on nancy in this house #I don't want hate anywhere near me #they're traumatized teenagers dealing with things no one should ever have to deal with #and also they are characters victim to plot devices #and we're gonna respect both #also adding this: carving themselves into shape is bad #growing to fit together... that's the good shit #especially if how they fit later isn't how they expected #but is even better

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fanfic-corner · 1 year

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Tony Stark Has a Heart Fic Recs pt 2

Hello everyone!! I still have plenty of fics with this tag left in my bookmarks, so we're back for a part 2! I hope you enjoy reading them <3

You can find part one here.

xvii. drugged by tempestaurora (2.3k)

“Well,” the doctor said, “it seems you two can only tell the truth. I’ll call the team in to start working on a fix, but I do recommend you don’t leave the tower in case you say something you usually wouldn’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Peter said.

The doctor raised an eyebrow but didn’t look at him. “Peter, are you Spiderman?”

“Yes.” Peter blinked. “I see your point.”

Peter Parker's Incorrect Quotes Page by EmilyWeaslette (2.5k)

Peter opens an 'incorrect quotes' account for the Avengers on Twitter, without telling them. When the team discovers the account, and Peter is too embarassed to come forward as it's creator, panic and hilarity ensue as the team try to figure out how private conversations are being eavesdropped on. Peter's just trying to avoid being caught.

Besides.

It was all Shuri's idea.

Candy from Strangers by peter_parkr (2.8k)

Peter heard footsteps approaching the bathroom. Tony pushed the door open and hesitantly poked his head in.

"Oh, shit." His eyes were met with the sight of Peter, whiter than a ghost, crumpled on the floor in fetal position. Peter tried to smile up at Tony, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Hey, ms'r strk. Welcome to my h'me." Peter flopped his arm over on the floor in greeting. Tony sighed... this was going to be a long night.

Where my heart lies by Maicaly (3.5k)

Peter Stark is taken from his school's parking lot, and 46 hours later, Tony receives a message with a location. Steve, Rhodey and Sam follow him to an abandoned building with a unpleasant surprise inside - that will put Tony's nerves at test.

Repeat After Me by battybatzgirl (3.8k)

Tony’s face hardens as he says, “What kid.”

“I don’t know, some twelve year old—”

Below him, the kid coughs out, “Fifteen.”

“—Fifteen year old—”

Tony scrubs a hand across his face. “Don’t tell me he’s wearing a dorky shirt with a chemistry pun on it.”

Rhodey frowns. That was oddly specific. Glancing down, he looks at what little he can see of the kid’s shirt—which isn't much since there’s so much blood now, but what could be once called a cartoon joke is printed on it. “Um, yeah?”

“Son of a bitch.”

Love, hate on by madasthesea (3.9k)

She’d planned for this moment for two years, seven months, and eighteen days: As she’d stood above her daughter’s freshly dug grave, she’d decided that Tony Stark would die by her hand. And now was her moment.

She had only intended to grab Stark, tell him what he’d done that merited the punishment she was going to give, and kill him fast before anyone started looking. But here was this kid, an act of providence.

She didn’t have to tell Stark now, she could show him. She could make him suffer like she’d suffered, make him pay for his crimes. An eye for an eye, a child for a child.

kidnapping by killerqueenwrites (4.6k)

Steve wakes up cuffed to a chair, which is kind of annoying considering he has a meeting today.

He’s just coming to the conclusion that he really might be in trouble when he notices the kid across from him.

or Steve and Peter get some bonding time, and Tony is freaking out.

Um, I'm Invoking Parental Rights by teaandtumblr (5.8k)

5 times Peter calls Tony "dad" to bail him out, and the 1 time he means it.

Perhaps He's Not Missing Out After All. by NotYoCheese (6.6k)

Peter is devastated after he is told that he is not allowed to go on the field trip with the rest of his class tomorrow. Tony steps in and tells him that he can stay at the tower on the day of the field trip. Only, Peter didn't realize that the field trip was to the tower, and guess who the lucky intern who gets to give them a tour is . . .

Featuring a shocked class that finds out that Peter isn't lying, a very angry Flash, and maybe even some IronDad Fluff

Planes, Trains, and the Trauma Response by imgoingtocrash and savvysass (6.9k)

The world around him is solid. It makes sense. Despite the existence of aliens and literal gods in their galaxy—the science of it all makes sense. They just have yet to figure it all out.

Then he’d been thrown into a spiral of falsehoods—one after another, all so fast, all so real—and suddenly he’s in

the Netherlands. It’s too nice compared to the horrors he became used to—a far cry from the real world: a world of dead parents, dead uncles, and half of a universe, dead with the snap of one creature’s fingers.

Where once there was certainty…now there’s fragility.

So, when he sees Tony step out of the plane instead of Happy…he falters.

Mr Stark Enough For You? (another field trip fic bcs we dont have enough) by Livinei (7k)

Peter isn’t worried because he thinks Tony won’t say yes, he’s worried because he’s sure Tony will. And he’s not sure how he feels about having his entire class waltzing around the place where he spends practically more time than in his own home, where he has his own room, and where he regularly eats Lucky Charms with one of the most influential men in the country, in his pajamas. Not that they’d ever know any of that. Tour groups don’t go to the living quarters of the Tower anyways, they hardly ever go past the 50th floor, Peter knows that. And it isn’t fair to his class if he doesn’t ask just because he…spends a lot of time there?

Yeah, Peter sighs, he has to ask. He promised, anyways.

you'll always get there first by crowkag (7k)

Home, home, home home home. It played on loop in Peter’s brain, loud and tumbling and distracting…

But not in a way that would have him miss the silver Audi speeding toward him in the opposite direction, a sight that made him do a double-take for two reasons.

One, because the fancy car was a foreign presence after nothing but rusty, dented Ford pickups for the past hour.

And two, he was pretty sure that was Tony in the driver’s seat.

Peter Parker's Super Secret Snack Stash by coconutknightshade (7k)

"It's D, Peter. We talked about this."

“No it’s not, Ned. Because if it were D then I would be wrong and that would put me at a 65% already on this practice exam and we haven’t even gotten through it all. I can’t fail another history exam, Ned! This last one is worth 60% of our grade! If I fail this final then I’ll fail the class and if I fail the class then I’ll be kicked out of school-”

“You’re top of our year, Peter.” You can almost hear Ned’s eye roll as he talks over Peter.

“- and if I’m kicked out of school then I’ll be forced to live on the streets exchanging sexual favors for money and I can’t do that, Ned! I wouldn’t even know what to charge- I mean, what’s the street value of a blow job, Ned? Do you know? Because I sure as shit don’t.” At this point Ned is outright giggling over Peter’s theatrics.

Pickle Starburst by Bergen (7.5k)

One mundane evening, an awkward, wide-eyed teenager with strange enhanced abilities tumbles into Tony’s office and claims he is from the year 2017, twelve years into the future.

Tony doesn’t really do kids. Or whack jobs. So a combination of the two is a challenge.

But when has Tony ever backed down from a challenge?

for the love of freefall by sagemb (7.9k)

Happy does not, in fact, pick Peter up on Wednesday. Instead, when he and Ned walk out of the school building, there’s a small crowd gathering next to a convertible orange Audi R8 idling in the fire lane. A man with a familiar goatee and rose-colored sunglasses is sitting in the driver’s seat.

Peter’s brain short-circuits for a second.

5 Times Peter Sleepwalked And The 1 Time He Pretended He Did by losingmymindtonight (8.7k)

Peter sleepwalks, Tony stresses.

Man in a Can by JinxQuickfoot (10k)

Peter could hear the voices floating down to him, muffled by the floorboards nailed into place above his head and cemented over with the industrial strength tiles that made up Tony’s workshop floor. The last thing he had remembered was a dark figure appearing over him in bed, then he had woken up here, groggy and exhausted and unable to move.

Unable to move because whoever had grabbed him had covered him in concrete from toes to mouth, repaired Tony’s floor, and left him there.

We Will Foresee Obstacles by blackwatchandromeda (11k)

The war is over. Thanos has been defeated, the population has been restored, and Peter has lost one of the most important people in his life.

After the funeral, Peter meets Harley and Morgan. They're all in the same position, all missing the same person, and it's not long before they come up with a scheme to save him.

That is, if they can pull it off.

When You Assume Wrong by TentativeTreason (14k)

Tony is hiding something.

The Avengers notice the little discrepancies in Tony’s behaviour, and they eventually come to the only conclusion they can think of: Tony is having an affair.

Five Times Peter Parker Pretended to Be Asleep by blondsak (16k)

...and the one time he actually was.

Or: sometimes, faking sleep can work to your advantage. When it comes to trying to fool a certain genius, overprotective, superhero mentor, Peter finds this to be doubly true.

Definitely Worth It by jennylarner (16k)

Peter doesn't want to go on a field trip to Stark Tower. It's a recipe for disaster. His class doesn't believe him, his teacher doesn't believe him. If he makes it through the entire day without being suspended, it'll be a miracle. Unfortunately for Peter, he's never much believed in miracles.

What I Really Need is You by happyaspie (18k)

Five Things Peter Needs From Tony and One Thing He Wants.

@ironman follows you by malyin_roza (27k)

“Eighteen detentions last month alone, disgraceful amount of absent hours – often odd classes mid-day or half a day. I won’t mention the after-class clubs, or nerd groups, or whatever it is you do for ‘fun’ that actually counts in to your records anyway.”

Peter sat frozen on the spot, his face growing hot and red after rapidly paling when Tony began talking.

“I – I – look, I, let me explain – “

“That’s,” Tony pointed at him, silencing with one look, “that’s where we might start.”

“Start?” the teen repeated uneasily.

Sweet Jesus, what did he have on him?

“I solved it all, you’re welcome.”

A beat of silence as Peter blinked at him.

Cloak and Dagger by Velnetta (34k)

After being kidnapped with some of earth’s greatest defenders, Peter is grateful that it appears that their captors aren’t aware that he’s Spider-man.

The problem? To the Avengers, he's just Tony Stark's teenage intern- and Peter intends to keep it that way.

turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by madasthesea (35k)

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

Time to Pretend by Rowan_M (38k)

A villain attacking New York sends an injured Peter back in time to the year 2000. Not knowing how to get home, Peter asks Tony Stark for help and ends up finding out a lot about his and Tony's past.

Peter is given an opportunity to change the future, or leave things be.

In My Dreams by MaryaDmitrievnaLikesSundays (48k)

Red.

Red was quite the color.

The color of love, the color of hate.

The color of glowing cheeks under a streetlight, of smiling lips and sweet rose petals. The color of a sour lollipop in a child’s young hand.

The color of war, of blood, of pain. The color that plagued the nightmares of the bravest men.

Yes, red was quite a few things at once, but right now, it was the color that coated Peter Parker’s hands as he stumbled away from the warm corpses of his aunt and uncle, silhouetted cruelly by the neon store signs, and into the unknown of a quiet, star-dotted night in Queens.

A Hundred Feet Under by thisisnotourlasthunt (59k)

Months after the events in Civil War, a chemical outbreak causes the whole world to fall in a comatose state. The Avengers, who had to reunite when people began to fall, are forced to trap themselves inside a bunker until Bruce Banner and Helen Cho can figure out an antidote. This leads to new friendships to form, and others to heal. All of this a hundred feet underground.

Things go well, until they don't.

While Tony and Steve revisit their actions in Civil War and deal with being a team once again, one of their team members was silently compromised by the chemicals. None of them knew until the effects began to appear. Emotions are shared. The team becomes a family once again and some learn that despite their past actions, there will always be people that will love and care for you. Also, Tony is a stressed dad to a teenager with concerning lack of self preservation skills.

It's a Secret to Everybody by Snapdragon_in_the_Snow (97k)

Peter gets to spend all summer living in Avengers Tower with Tony. When the Rogue Avengers get pardoned and come back to live at the Tower too, they're confused as to who Peter is. However, once they see how Tony acts around Peter, that confusion goes away, as they know for certain who Peter must be - Tony's secret son.

Tony and Peter decide to make the most of the situation, and play along. They hope they can keep up the act all summer. But they soon learn that they barely have to act at all.

built from scraps by peterstank (138k)

“Everybody needs someone. That’s what you said, right?” Pepper meets his eyes and he’s struck by the way she’s almost pleading. “We both lost. We can help each other.”

Her hand, palm up and open, stretches into the space between them.

Peter hesitates.

Then he takes it.

or: the one where tony was dusted instead of peter, so he and pepper try to figure out the whole ‘family’ thing together.

(oh, and it turns out that the man who died in peter’s arms on an alien planet is his biological father. who knew, right?)

Brave as a Noun by edema_ruh (161k)

Some people think that Peter is Tony's son. Why shouldn't they? Peter seems to be orbiting Tony all the time, and it's not like the billionaire tells him off. They have a nice relationship - Peter is glad to have a father figure, and Tony cares for the kid as if he's actually his son.

The first problem regarding this arises when the people who think that Peter is Tony's son kidnap him for ransom.

The second problem regarding this arises when one of the people who kidnaps Peter turns out to be Mac Gargan, the Scorpion, and he's hungry for revenge.

Identity Theft by KitCat992 (267k)

It's been months since the events of Civil War, and the Avengers are doing their best to remain a team, having promised to forgive and forget. Unfortunately for them, Tony Stark's latest invention has been stolen and recovering it causes tension to reappear.

Meanwhile, in Queens, Peter Parker has two main priorities on his plate — complete his midterm finals, and track down a fishbowl wearing criminal that may or may not lead him right into the hands of the Avengers.

Somehow between all of this, Spider-Man's identity is revealed to the Avengers, Steve and Tony's friendship may permanently be damaged due to continued hidden secrets, and Happy struggles to buy a youth-sized casket for Peter's funeral.

Things were a lot easier when they were fighting over Bucky Barnes.

Stab Me in the Back (I'll Catch You From Behind) by Lansfics7 (296k)

"I am going to find Tony," the man hisses in Peter's ear, his gaze cold and cruel. "And when I do, I will kill him, slowly. What do you say to that-" The man stops short because Peter's shoulders are shaking, and before he can curl his lip in victory, he hears a snicker. When he lets go of Peter's hair, the teen's head slumps to his chest, but it's not out of exhaustion or defeat...it's to hide a smile.

The boy lets out a laugh, shaking his head before glancing to the sides admitting apologetically, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's just- it is so fun to mess with you!" He looks around before snorting, "Tony Stark? That's your play? You're not screwing with me, right? You actually thought that would work? Sorry guys." Peter straightens in his chair with a sneer and a cocky wink, "Tony doesn't give a flying crap about me."

And that's it! Happy reading, and if you have any other fics to rec with this tag - whether they be yours or your friend's - please share them with me! And, as always, thank you to all the amazing writers who share their works with us.

#irondad #spideyson #marvel #mcu #peter parker #tony stark #tony stark has a heart #iron man #spider-man #fic recs #ao3 #lina lore #long post

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

Her Everything Ch 18

When you arrived at the playground the next morning you managed to swipe Amanda’s coffee out of her hand before she even realized you were next to her.

“Hey!” She protested, “get your own.” As she grabbed it back she took in your appearance, the sunglasses darker than your usual ones. “Are you hungover?”

“Kind of?” You groaned, tugging your hair up into a top knot before your sunglasses slid up to your head.

“Is that a hickey?!”

“What? No!” Your hand shot to your neck, wincing slightly at how tender the skin still was, “Cat bashed me with a toy the other day.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” Amanda snorted, her finger coming out to poke around the bruise, “she give ya the beard burn too?”

“What?”

“This is beard burn, and that’s a hickey!” To enunciate her point she jabbed her finger into the purpling mark.

“Ow! ‘Manda!”

“Can’t believe you were out on a hot date while I was stuck with three kids.”

“I wasn’t out on a hot date, it’s not like I planned this.” You snagged her coffee for another swig, “it was more a…drink…that turned into a kiss..followed by one hell of a hot make out session.”

“And some sex.” She smirked, grabbing the cup back from you.

“Steamy, steamy hot sex. Holy shit Amanda…I- first time I’ve ever squirted. I mean..wow..”

“Jesus! You better be calling him back.” You snorted a laugh in response, Olivia’s voice cutting through just as you were about to reply.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” She passed a tray of coffee over to the two of you. “What’d I miss?”

“Y/N’s steamy, steamy sex she had last night while I was babysitting.” You smacked Amanda’s arm as Liv laughed.

“Really?” She paused for a sip of coffee, “when’re we gonna meet him?”

“Yeah…what’s his name?” You bailed under the pressure of both women’s attention fully turned to you, slightly hiding behind your coffee cup.

“Rafael…”

“Barba!?” Amanda practically shouted. Liv inhaled a sip of coffee down the wrong tube, choking on the beverage as she shot you a glance of surprise.

“How did that happen?” The brunette asked.

“Like I told Amanda! He came to drop something off, we had a drink and…one thing lead to another..”

“He really made you-“

“Yup.” You cut the blonde off, it was one thing kissing and telling under the umbrella of anonymity but knowing who the other person was…

“Good job Barba.” She muttered, taking a sip of coffee while she did a quick head count of the girls on the playground.

“Hope you were safe, don’t wanna end up with two whoopsie’s like this one.” Olivia teased.

“Hey!”

“Believe me, the moment Cat came out, that IUD went straight back in.” You laughed.

“How drunk were you guys?” Amanda asked.

“The first time?” That got a rouse out of them, “like, three quarters of a bottle of scotch. Then we ordered food and polished off a second bottle.”

“So you guys talked about it then?” Olivia asked, a genuine interest on her face that you were unscrambling all the wires.

“Uhm…not exactly. I mean..we were kinda caught up in the after glow, ya know? Just…enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice to finally have that kind of intimacy again.”

“K, but I’m more interested in just how many more times were involved.”

“Let’s just say…he was certainly making up for lost time.” You smirked, “and if you think my neck’s bad you should see my inner thigh.” Amanda lost it at that while Olivia playfully rolled her eyes, “I’m certainly not complaining about the beard.”

“You must have at least talked about it this morning?” Olivia noticed the immediate awkwardness in your eyes at her statement.

“I-uh-may have snuck out before he woke up?”

“You just left him in your apartment?!” Amanda was fully invested in this now.

“He’s got keys! He can lock up himself and we’ll do that whole awkward interaction tomorrow…which will be fucking horrible because Lucia is going to catch on real quick…shit…”

“Hope you’re planning on wearing a scarf.” Liv teased and you shot her a glare that she laughed at. “You should really talk it over though. I know it’s rocky territory all things considered, but you’ve said it yourself, he’s doing a wonderful job as a Dad, which honestly…I never would have expected from Barba. You guys have been getting along so well this year. You can’t fight me on that, I’ve seen you looking at each other when the other’s not looking the exact same way you were before I even knew you were dating.”

“And you certainly got along last night.” Amanda cut in, causing you to smack her arm again, “besides, it’s not like this was some drunken one night stand where you passed out right after and did the walk of shame never to see them again. You guys were hanging out, having a good time, and you continued to after, and had more sex..it was a….” she eyed you with a sly grin. You rolled your eyes knowing exactly what she was prompting you for.

“It was a four night stand…”

“I wish I got that many orgasms a night.”

“If we’re counting it like that it was seven night stand.”

“Jesus.” Olivia muttered, distracting herself by double checking on the girls while Amanda howled.

“Barba’s got stamina…damn.” Amanda took a swig of coffee, “but Liv’s right. I mean, you guys were sickeningly in love, it made me want to puke like..half of the time. Despite everything that’s happened, it can’t be hard to fall back in love with him.”

“Considering I never fell out of love with him…no…it can’t.” Your statement was softer, and you weren’t surprised when both of the women turned toward you, though they were surprised at the very subtle glimmer of tears in your eyes suddenly. “What?” A watery chuckle left your lips, “I was alone for so long, and I mean completely, family wise, not just the ‘ooo I’m lonely cause I’m single’ kinda thing. Rafael…he was my everything, he was the love of my life. I never thought I’d get married and there I was picking out venues and hours d’oeuvres alongside his Mother. He made me feel like I actually deserved all of that, like I deserved to be truly happy.” Amanda’s hand softly grasped yours, her thumb reassuringly rubbing against it, “he could break my heart a million times over and there would still be a part of me that loved him. If it wasn’t for Cata…I don’t know if I would’ve made it through that breakup.”

“So talk to him..” Liv softly countered, “he loved you more than anything in the world, and I know he still cares about you, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he was still completely in love with you.”

“Then why did he walk away five years ago?”

The three of you all jumped at the intrusion of a new voice from behind the bench you were sitting on.

“Because he was a coward. And an idiot who was terrified, and thought the only resolution was running away.” He only had eyes for you, it was as if the other two didn’t exist in that moment, the apologies written on his face as he looked down at you.

“Raf..? How’d you even know where we were?” He grinned, holding up his phone.

“Find my Iphone…you know you really should change your passwords once in a while.” You smacked at his arm with a smile, “you got a minute?” You shot a glance toward the other two women, who both nodded lightly in encouragement.

“Course.” Standing from the bench you followed him a short of enough distance that you had some privacy, “how much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” He smiled, “you always leave your conquests alone in your apartment?” Laughing lightly you rolled your eyes, the back of your hand smacking his chest.

“No..I…was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react. Like you just said, sometimes running makes the most sense in the heat of the moment.”

“Carino…” his hand stroked down your arm softly, “I know I’ve apologized a million times over about everything, and that they’re empty words by now, but I do need you to know that I was being incredibly fucking stupid. I was terrified that I’d be sent to jail, that you would hate me for what I did, that even if I got off, you would want nothing to do with me anymore. I was utterly ashamed at the entire thing, and for some idiotic reason I felt like I couldn’t show my face here anymore…even to the people I love the most.”

“Love?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, “as in…present tense?”

“Oh Hermosa…” hand stroked your cheek ever so softly, “every. Single. Day. I would look at this and remind myself how much I love you, and pray that you still loved me. And since being back, being with you and Cata, it’s meant so much more.” Your brow scrunched as he reached inside his coat,

“What’re you-“

A little laminated card was between his finger and thumb, the colour catching your attention first, your breath hitching in your throat as your hand shot to your mouth. The other one gently grasped it as your eyes moved up to his illuminating emerald ones. You flipped the card over and your suspicions were confirmed. It was the purple post it…the one you’d made as an impromptu Christmas tree ornament on your first Christmas together, the words ‘I love you always’ scrawled across it in your hand writing.

“You kept it?” You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, just daring to escape.

“I was a moron for walking out on you, I needed a part of you to hold onto, to selfishly help me through everything. That little note…I keep it on me always. I look at it every day and the little part of me that prays you’ll be able to forgive me eventually reminds me that each time…you said ‘always’ and I said ‘forever’..and that there was some slim chance you’d still feel like that, even after I fucked up so horribly.”

“Rafael…” His thumb stroked softly at your cheek and suddenly the entire world vanished, your voice soft and wavery, but he knew you meant it when you spoke, “I’ll never stop loving you.” It was when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you for a deep kiss that the wolf whistles echoed through the park. The hand you had around his bicep shifted so you were discreetly flipping off Amanda and Olivia, the laughter of the situation evident on your lips, causing Rafael to smile against you, kissing your head softly as you moved away, your blushing face turning toward your friends before it turned back to him.

“I love you forever y/n.” You giggled softly, rocking up on your toes to peck his lips.

“And I love you always.”

Truthfully, there were still a lot of logistics to work through, but that was to be expected in a situation like this. The following day Lucia certainly did give you shit for sleeping together before actually figuring things out, but she was at least happy that you were working things out romantically, that you would actually be a family again. Catalina wasn’t really aware to what was going on at first, she was young enough it didn’t really affect her, she was just happy to know a few months down the road that Papi was moving in and she got to spend all her time with both of you. The squad was all in support of it, even Calhoun gave you a soft ‘congratulations’ when she passed you in the courthouse.

Everything fell into place easier than you’d expected it, there was no way you could be happier than you were now, and there was no place Rafael would rather be than at home with his family. One that he never thought he’d ever have, but one that he adored more than anything in the world. The day he moved into the apartment you had a small shadow box style frame ready and waiting alongside a stack of purple post its. Once everything was settled and you’d finished off the pizza Cata was oh so excited about for dinner you had her write her own little I love you message on a fresh post it.

The three of them found their way into the frame, ‘I love you always’ beside the ‘I love you forever’ the coloured in heart sitting underneath between them, bringing your little family together, there was absolutely nothing that could tear you apart now.

Well…that’s all folks. Thanks for not only inspiring me to write a hell of a series off a request for a one shot, but for sticking with me through a story that spans TEN years, wow. I also 10000% have an alternate ending coming, so it’s *technically* not over yet

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #her everything #law and order #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

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nagasakidivision · 2 years

Text

Drama Track: Double Effect 2-1

And here we finally go. :partying_face: This one ran really long so there's a nonzero chance going by my outline this will only be two parts lmao

ANYWAYS. Here's where the plot kicks off a bit more, including something I've been waiting to reveal since I started this blog.

(A man sits at a table. Several underlings surround him. They talk in soft murmurs before the door slams open.)

[Underling]: Boss!

[Tomabechi]: What is it? You know better than to interrupt a meeting—

[Underling]: No. No, this is important. This just got dropped off at the door.

(Tomabechi grumbles angrily and snatches an envelope out of the man’s hand. There’s a rustle of papers as he pulls out a letter and reads it off.)

[Tomabechi]: …For I come not to bring peace, but a sword.

(Something else falls to the ground. He kneels to pick it up.)

[Tomabechi]: Monkshood. And a calla lily.

(The paper crumples in his hand.)

[Tomabechi]: It’s Gabriel. Step up security around all of our holdings. Shake down anyone we’ve been doing business with to see if someone’s approached them with…untoward questions lately.

[Underlings]: Yes, boss.

[Tomabechi]: If that goddamn thief thinks he’s gonna make a fool of me, he’s got another thing coming.

-----------------------

[Haruto:] Shirou? Hey, Shirou!

(The only response from Shirou is soft breathing, about one step removed from snoring.)

[Damien]: Jeez. He’s really out of it. C’mon man, we’re burning daylight here.

[Shirou]: …Huh?

(Fabric rustling as he sits upright.)

[Haruto:] Job’s running you ragged, huh.

[Shirou]: Well, people aren’t dying any less. So yes.

[Haruto]: Yeah, but…falling asleep on a subway? When was the last time you slept?

[Shirou]: Last night.

[Haruto]: Okay. How many hours?

[Shirou]: …Two before I was called in.

[Haruto, sighing in frustration]: Shirou…

[Shirou]: I can sleep in the hotel.

[Damien]: Well, you can but we were hoping to get in some practice before the next round tomorrow.

[Shirou]: I’ll just need a few hours. You two can spar against each other until I’m awake.

[Haruto]: Alright. Just promise you’ll at least try to get a full night’s sleep before we go on the field.

[Shirou]: I’ll do fine in our matches.

[Haruto]: This isn’t about the DRB. I’m worried about you.

(There’s a few moments of silence.)

[Damien]: Well, look at it this way. You’ve finally got something like a vacation—well, I guess a working vacation, right? So enjoy it! Relax a little. Win or lose, we should all have a night on the town.

[Shirou]: I’d…like that, actually.

[Damien]: There ya go. It’s a deal, then.

[Haruto]: Ah, there’s our stop. C’mon, we’ll figure out what to do on the way.

---------------------------------

(Hard cut to a hotel room. Shirou can be heard breathing softly in the background.)

[Haruto]: Well, that didn’t take long.

[Damien]: Jeez. Is he usually that bad off?

[Haruto]: More or less, yeah. Ever since he started working as a mortician, he’s been dead on his feet. And it’s gotten worse in the past couple years.

[Haruto]: …Maybe this is a good time to pick his brain a little.

[Haruto]: So…not to pry, but how have you not noticed? I mean, he does try to hide it but it’s kind of obvious. How long have you guys been talking?

[Damien]: Depends on how you wanna define it. We’ve been communicating for about a year, but actual in-person stuff? Not until a few months ago when it was safe for me to bail.

[Haruto]: …Bail? From the company? He said you were a whistleblower.

[Damien]: You got it. I’ve been building my case for a while. I needed to make sure I could get as much evidence as possible and then make sure I wasn’t around before I could drop any information.

[Haruto]: Wouldn’t that cast suspicion on you when we go public, though?

[Damien]: What, you think Damien is my given name? It’s not. (pause) Well, in a sense, I gave it to myself. Point is, I’ve been planning this for a while. I don’t think I need to tell you at this point, but Solaris is seriously bad news, man. Corrupt from top to bottom.

[Haruto]: Well, yeah, I figured that. Why’d you even work for them, then?

[Damien]: …Look, they don’t really advertise that shit. And I was young and stupid, and didn’t see the warning signs. Better late than never to turn it around, right?

[Haruto]: Yeah. Uh, sorry. I’m not trying to doubt you, everything seems legit, but…

[Damien]: Nah. Don’t worry about it. I’m a guy who has a few things to keep secret, I know I look suspicious, but trust me. I want to see Solaris go down just as bad as you and Shirou do.

[Haruto]: …We’ll see about that.

-------------------------

(A slight shifting noise as Shirou moves the sheets off himself.)

[Haruto]: Oh, hey. You’re finally up. Damien said he was going out for a bit.

[Shirou]: The sun’s down. How long was I…?

[Haruto]: It’s about midnight, so…around eight hours?

(Shirou snaps upright.)

[Shirou]: I’m—I’m incredibly sorry.

[Haruto]: Don’t sweat it. You obviously needed it, you’ll need to be at your best for the preliminaries tomorrow. Or, uh, today now, I guess.

[Shirou]: But we needed the practice.

[Haruto]: Yeah, me and Damien did. You’re the most experienced. Besides, you’re the one who’s been practicing nonstop for the past few months.

(A lengthy pause.)

[Haruto]: Look, both of us can tell you’re running on fumes right now. Damien’s right. You need to take a break. If you’re not working, you’re practicing, and if you’re not practicing or working, you’re trying to find leads. You don’t sleep best I can tell. You’re going to work yourself to death at this rate.

[Shirou]: …I know. It’s just for now, though. Once we can put the case to rest, I’ll take a break.

[Haruto]: Look, the two of us are here to help, right? Why are you pushing yourself this hard? It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help.

[Shirou]: You believe there’s good and evil, don’t you?

[Haruto]: Well…yeah. Most of my papers have been arguing for deontology as the only justifiable moral framework. (pause) Hey, don’t change the subject—

[Shirou]: It’ll just take a moment. Let me ask you a philosophical question, then. What do you think makes an action evil enough it’s unforgivable? Hypothetically—something you could only atone for by spending your life making up for it?

[Haruto]: That’s…really broad. You know I don’t believe in categorical imperatives, right? You can’t call any single category of action good or evil. It’s more complex than that, there’s a lot of innate paradox in life. We’re living in a fundamentally absurd and unknowable world.

[Shirou]: Give me some hypotheticals, then.

(Haruto sighs.)

[Haruto]: Torture, under basically any circumstances. Killing with the intention to do so for reasons other than survival of yourself or another person, especially if there were alternatives. Not a whole lot more than that, honestly? Like I said, it’s about circumstance and why you want to do something.

[Shirou]: Saying that intention changes whether an action is good or not is making it too easy, though. Doesn’t everyone think what they’re doing is right in their own mind? A soldier fighting in an unjust war might say that they’re protecting their fellow soldiers.

[Haruto]: Sure, but you have to ask whether or not everyone seriously considers the outcomes of their actions. What about double effect?

[Shirou]: You might have to walk me through that one.

[Haruto]: You haven’t heard of double effect? What kind of Catholic are you?

[Shirou]: …

[Haruto]: Uh. You know, because it’s from Aquinas. He was hugely influential on Catholic doctrine and—

[Shirou]: We can talk about the history later, if you don’t mind.

[Haruto]: …Sorry. Anyways. Any action can have a consequence that could be considered potentially evil could also have a positive result. Say, committing murder to save someone’s life. Murder is usually considered categorically evil, but inaction leading to someone dying is worse. Or, someone stealing food to save their family from starving.

[Haruto]: But, you have to have an awareness of both of the results, tried and failed to find an alternative, make sure that the negative result isn’t excessive, you’ve done what you can to minimize harm, and the good result has to be an immediate result of the action. Consideration and reflection is the central part of it. Your hypothetical soldier probably hasn’t taken a long, hard look at the war machine they’re serving, so they’ve just picked the easy answer. It feels right to them but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

[Shirou]: I see. You’ve given me something to think about.

[Haruto]: Hey. What’s this about? You’ve been acting weird lately.

[Shirou]: I…

(Shirou’s phone buzzes with a notification. He picks it up.)

[Shirou]: Sorry. It’s for work. I’ll need to take this. Do you mind if I step outside for a while?

[Haruto]: …Alright. Just. Talk to me when you get back. Please.

[Shirou]: I will.

(The door slams as he walks out. Haruto sighs and hits the bed. He picks up a book. The pages rustle as he turns them.)

[Haruto]: …He’s lying. I know it.

(He snaps the book shut.)

[Haruto]: Fuck it. He can be mad at me later.

(He stands up, grabbing his bag. The door creaks as it open, and he walks out.)

#hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #shirou sonozaki #damien #haruto hirabayashi #nagasaki division

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lifewiththelulus · 6 months

Text

hehehe When they get together, and Cirrus now knows how flustered she can make her, she takes advantage of that like there's no tomorrow >:3

Kindlin might get all flustered, but that's only because she loves it

Cirrus was the first person in so long to give her so much positivity and she cherishes all of it

So what if The breaking point for Kindlin trying to leave was because her Mom was gonna come home to visit for her 18th birthday in the next month but she bailed yet again. This was the 9th month in a row she hadn't come home. It's when Kindlin realizes her mom missed all her birthdays. She never really thought about it until this one. Wasn't it supposed to be special? At least to her?

So Kindlin starts looking for a job but can't find one. She ends up using some of the grocery money her mom sent to buy train tickets to elementopolis.

The whole week she waited to leave she spent as much time with her friends as possible. She was really gonna miss them, but something was telling her she needed to go do this.

Unfortunately her umbrella forgot to come with her that night and it happened to start raining She was lucky to find some shelter under a random potted plant outside of one of the shops downtown.

I think I'd like to change the way they meet Birch

So I'm thinking since Kindlin's mom was gone a lot she invited her friends over a lot, Hazel, Cirrus, Vapor, whoever really.

So they know something is up when Kindlin stops inviting them like she would every weekend.

She does mention having a job as a reason she can't always hang out anymore, but doesn't mention that she's moved in or that she was even planning on leaving at all.

So they finally find out about Birch on another show night

Of course as soon as she found out this sweet kid was in a play she became as supportive as she could be. She even baked a bunch of cupcakes for the cast and recorded the whole thing on an old camera she had. Just doing all the things you'd expect a mother to do if she was seeing her kid's play lol I bet a few of them don't even question that being her mom due to the fact her bio mom never visited the school with her before

I'm guessing Cirrus met her one time briefly but she was half asleep and barely responsive to Kindlin

I like the idea of Hazel running into her in the hallway beforehand and helping he pick up the dropped cupcakes. So when they all assume she's her mom Hazel just makes a offhand comment that throws her off "Kin I saw your mom earlier! She gave me this awesome cloud cake you gotta bring me more sometime".

Oh my gosh yessss

Birch: "thank you so much for helping me young lady, here have a cloud cake."

Kindlin can't help but keep quiet about her not really being her mom. That is until Birch brings up that Kindlin is her best employee and she couldn't wait to come see her perform if she was as passionate about the stage as she was about baking.

Kindlin definitely hasn't shared her passion of baking with them yet cus she thinks it's kind of embarrassing at first.

Lol Birch can't stop doting on her and telling her how proud she is

#falls on her face 🛹#the world is a stage! 🌟#baked woods 🌳

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taromilksnake · 1 year

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10:23pm irritated

it’s past 9pm so unrelatable narrator time but i want to vent. i don’t like playing games with them anymore, rn i want to just tell them i don’t want to play for future games, that would be immature and kinda mean but tbh rn i don’t really care. it’s the kind of thing that i don’t think talking would help, it’s like a demeanor thing. ok so the inciting incident was me messaging the group asking to push back from 7:30 to 8pm, sent around 7. they were clearly not happy about it, and looking back maybe it would’ve been better just to make it a declarative (“i won’t be there til 8”). during the game i was admittedly ribbing a bit (“not in the spirit of the the game”), then they said that if people were on time then maybe they would play differently. which like, instantly upset me and ruined the rest of the night tbh. it didn’t help that bias and his roommate were like lowkey ignoring us for the first half hour or so. it put me in a bad mood and i almost quit the game on the spot. i struggled thru 2 solid hrs and tbh i’m kind pissed i have less time to myself now. i’m thinking if it bothers me still tomorrow morning i’ll call them, but rn i really just want to stop joining the games, b/c they are just…straight up unpleasant to play with a lot of the time. the competitiveness wouldn’t be a problem if not for the pedantic-ness, and often it comes off as condescending. i was admittedly focused on the negatives all game, but like, i didn’t want to play quixort for the the exact reason of the pedantic bossing people around, i don’t care about doing poorly if it’s fun, but it’s not. it’s like they treat the games as problems to solve efficiently by treating people as either minions or competitors, instead of, yknow, friends having some light fun. and it’s not that they don’t notice me shutting down a little, but the nervous energy of the shallow flattery just makes things worse, tbh. i’m just pissed and kind of reevaluating our friendship tbh. like it could be guilt, but i honestly thing it’s mostly stress, and frustration that i’ve already given a pretty big slice of my socialization pie to them, and that comment just set me off. i’m hoping they’re venting general frustration and not pointed to me, but even then i don’t know if that’s fair to me specifically. like, yeah, push comes to shove i’m prioritizing game night less. but they have to respect that, and i’m trying my best to be responsible and update my situation, which i did, and kept to my word. like, why isn’t alyssa catching any flack for bailing almost every game. i’m just…pissed off and angry and i feel as though my night’s ruined, and i wished i had more time to spend w/ julia. i guess my immediate plan is to see if sleeping it off works, then talking to them about it. in general i think i’ll spend less time with them, since it’s starting to feel more obligational (costco, anyone?), and resentment is no good for anyone.

ill eat some tasty snacks and see if i’m in the mood to look at my rugs. maybe taking a stab at the lamp shade too.

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aphdsomebody · 1 year

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My Mind...

November 11.

Hi friend,

It's been a minute. Life has been hectic with everything I do. I seem to continue to take on responsibilities and as the semester slows down, I find myself sitting with my thoughts. I was very upset yesterday. One thing about me is that I enjoy cooking and baking. I have this dream to host Christmases and Thanksgivings. I want to cook the best meals and desserts. I like hosting and decorating my home. Well, I got a text from my friend that said she wasn't able to make it for Thanksgiving and my other friend seemed to also bail. This sent me into a somewhat downward spiral.

I understand and comprehend that life happens, things happen, and no one owes me the things I do for them. Yet, I was angry. I was angry because I feel like I give and give and they don't care. Because of this potential lonesome Thanksgiving Day I reacted. I ignored everyone and basically told them to fuck off. I canceled all my plans from now to Christmas. Then, I turned on myself. I let my mind begin to wage a war against itself. I allowed myself to talk down to myself. I allowed myself to peel myself apart, to take punches at all the cracks in me and my heart. I told myself I deserved to be lonely, friendless, realationshipless, and perpetually alone for all my life. It sucked. I had to slowly peel back at the war I created in my head against me and everyone. I had to sit with it. I think it was a cumulation of many things for the past week and I just needed to explode. So, I did. I am still reeling from those jabs I took toward myself. I still want to create this distance between me and everyone else. That will remain. I just need time for my, by myself. We shall see what happens from here.

Until tomorrow.

-APhDSomebody

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omikazu · 3 years

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are we still on for tomorrow? ♡

FEATURING mikey and sanzu!

— when your fiancé urgently heads out before the day of your wedding for a sudden bonten meeting, you playfully text him, "are we still on for tomorrow?"

category: fluff, angst, mentions of drugs, blood, violence and gang shit but nothing too much

— MIKEY ♡

• when mikey gets an intel leak that a rival criminal syndicate would be trying to attack you at your wedding venue the next day, he's left seeing red.

• not only were they trying to ruin his special day, they were also targeting you— the love of his life, and that was simply unacceptable.

• mikey calls an emergency meeting with all the bonten executives, deciding that erasing the entire gang that was targeting you would be the best course of action.

• he left about six hours ago, and it's almost midnight. you sigh, deciding to send him a quick text to calm your nerves. "are we still on for tomorrow?" you type out, pressing send.

• you don't receive a response for the next two hours, and you begin to pace around your shared room with mikey, beginning to get worried. of course you'd understand if you have to postpone the wedding, but you've spent months planning it, not to mention the sheer excitement of exchanging vows with your soulmate in a beautiful ceremony..

♥︎ sighing, you flop down onto the bed, reading the clock. it's a little bit past two in the morning, and you've long abandoned any hope of your wedding happening today, until you hear the door to your bedroom burst open, startling you and breaking you out of your thoughts.

"what the hell do you mean by that text you sent, y/n?"

your fiancé stands in front you in a black shirt and bloodstained blue jeans, hair sticking to his forehead from how much he's sweating, the dried blood on his skin running down onto his neck along with the sweat.

"don't worry, sweetheart," mikey assures, holding a hand up in reassurance. "the blood isn't mine, i'm untouched. and of course we're still on for today, you know i'd never postpone our wedding.. for anything." mikey offers you a small smile, leaning on the doorframe. "sorry you have to see me all bloodied right before something as magical as our wedding," he says, shooing you away as you try to engulf him into a hug. "no, y/n, you'll get their filthy blood on you, i'll just see you in a few hours, all pretty in white for me, hands off till then," says mikey, turning around to leave. he turns back around for one last time and leaves your heart racing with what he tells you.

"i can't wait for you to hear the vows i wrote, baby. fuck, i'm one lucky man, huh? i found an angel like you to stay by my side forever."

— SANZU ♡

• when mikey himself sent out an urgent call for a meeting with all the executives, sanzu knew he couldn't refuse, after all, mikey knew that his wedding was the next day, so he wouldn't ask him to attend any meetings unless it was something really important.

• the meeting dragged on and on since the issue was a particularly large shipment of drugs being busted at the airport, a bust that could put all of bonten under the fbi's immediate hit list. sanzu was so preoccupied with the meeting that he forgot to send you a text that he'd come home late tonight.

• worried sick and convinced that your unhinged fiancé has decided to bail on you right before the day of your wedding, you sit at your dining table, the food you cooked for the two of you gone cold as you send him a nervous text, "are we still on for tomorrow?"

♥︎ you sniffle, biting back tears as you notice that it's been over two hours since you sent the text, with no response from sanzu. you knew that sanzu would never dump you out of the blue, but the insecure side of your mind told you otherwise. it's not like sanzu is the most reliable guy in the world, he always forgot dates because he was high off his ass god knows where, he's crazy, he's not the kind of guy that's fit for marriage at all, but he was willing to try.. he was willing to try, just for you, and that has to count for something, right?

you take deep breaths, calming yourself down a little. you need to trust your fiancé a little more, you tell yourself, because as unpredictable and bloodthirsty he might be, sanzu always treated you like a goddess, he cherished you like a jewel, because he knew you were the only good thing in his life, the only person that's stuck by his side through the years, despite his abuse of drugs and love for violence. you accepted him, every part of him— the good and the bad and the nasty, and he loves you for it.

as you sit dejected at the dining table, head preoccupied with negative thoughts, the door slowly creaks open, making you look up at your smiling fiancé.

relieved, you practically run towards sanzu, throwing yourself in his arms and cursing at yourself for ever doubting him. he promised you that he'd never leave you the day he proposed, he's even been trying to get clean since then, you really should give him more credit.

"what's wrong, doll?" sanzu asks, visibly confused as he runs his fingers through your hair soothingly. "i thought you were gonna ditch me," you admit, burying your head into his shoulders, your face burning with shame for ever doubting your fiancé's integrity.

sanzu laughs, forcing your face up so your puffy eyes can stare into his clear blue ones, the cute scars on his lips stretching as his eyes close up, mouth etching into a sincere smile.

"sorry, love, the meeting was so sudden and we weren't allowed to use phones in between," he tells you, planting a kiss on your forehead. "i'm so lucky you even stuck around for so long, it's my own fault you have your own doubts, i'll be better, i promise," he tells you, stroking your cheek gently. "someday, i'll become the man that you truly deserve."

and you know he will, because you know your man, and he isn't the type to make empty promises.. especially to you.

thanks to this ask for getting me out of a mild writer's block, love ya <33333

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takenbypeter · 2 years

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One Chance

X-Men Evolution Toad x mutant!reader

Word Count: 1,249

Summary: Toad always hears the same answer from you every single time, “no.” What happens when you finally agree to a date.

~~~~~

Don’t judge me, I wrote this after watching X-Men Evolution S3E7: The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. My man’s deserves love on that show.

~~~~~

“Don’t look now, but here comes your not so secret admirer,” said your best friend Kitty. You let out a little sigh already knowing exactly who she was talking about.

When you had moved to the institute you had expected difficulties. New town, new neighbors, new people who think you’re a freak. But what you didn’t expect was an admirer.

Toad.

Toad, although still a part of the brotherhood, showed no hesitation in declaring his feelings for you. “Good afternoon sugar plum. I hope you’ve had a beautiful day,” you rolled your eyes at his words. You knew Toad. It was no secret that everyday, he would hit on the same three people, (including yourself). For the first half of the day he’d hit on Rogue, then the second half you, and from your multiple run-ins with Wanda Maximoff you knew he’d turn to her after school.

“Hello Toad,” you said with a friendly smile, “my day was fine, thank you.” Unlike Rogue and Wanda though, you’ve always decided against being rude to the boy. Although he constantly asked you out, not once has he ever pushed it to the point where you were uncomfortable. “How was your day?” You asked.

“Better now that I got to see you,” he reaches out to lean against a locker before failing epically. You laughed at his little stumble before composing yourself. Noticing the little exchange Kitty began tugging on your arm. “Okay well, Kitty and I were just about to head home, so see you tomorrow,” you said, allowing yourself to be pulled away. “Wait,” Toad jumped in front of you, “I didn’t get to ask you,” here it comes. He points a finger at you then at himself, “you…me…date tonight.”

You open your mouth about to let the word no come out naturally, just like it has every other day. But then you close it. Toad wasn’t that bad. The guy’s never gotten a yes before and you were starting to feel…honestly a little bad. Your eyes landed on Kitty’s which were wide as she frantically waved her hands from behind him. One date couldn’t hurt, right?

“Okay, sure.”

Kitty froze mid wave, shocked by your answer. “Okay, I understand,” Toad mumbled dejectedly as he began to walk off with his shoulders slumped.

“I said yes,” you reiterate and he turns around visually growing ecstatic, “wait you said yes!”

You nod in response and he jumps back over, “oh you are not going to regret it. I’ll come by the mansion at seven. This is going to be the best date ever!” He shouts jumping all the way out the door.

You turn back to Kitty who’s giving you a crazy-eyed look, “do you just know what you just did?”

You nod and begin to walk off as Rogue joins you two. “Toad…that was Toad.”

Rogue looks at Kitty questioningly before turning to you, “what is she going on about?”

Kitty answers for you, practically screaming, “Y/n just agreed to go on a date…with Toad!” Rogue looks back at you, surprise written on her face. You shrug in response, “I felt bad, plus it’s just one date.” You walked off, as they continued to stare at you baffled by your decision.

You weren’t nervous about the date. But as it did get closer to seven you started to feel some jitters. At seven you stood outside the mansion, waiting for him to show up. “Sorry I’m late,” Toad says walking up to you. You check your phone screen seeing that it was exactly seven. “Toad, you’re right on time?”

“Yeah well I planned on getting here earlier but then my ride bailed on me,” he mumbles cursing at Lance before turning back to you. “Now,” he holds out a hand in your direction, “let’s go my love bug,” he says. You shoot him a warning look while he shows a sheepish smile, “I mean Y/n.” You grin, taking his hand in yours. “Let’s go!” He shouts again before heading off to who knows where.

It isn’t until you’re standing on a boardwalk looking up at the tall rides that you realize where you are. “Toad?” You ask, staring up at one of the biggest rollercoasters you’ve ever seen. “Yeah?” He asks.

“You do know my mutation includes sonic scream. Right?” You turn to see him with eyes wide before he quickly recollects himself, “of course my sweet siren, which is why we’re here for this,” he hastily spins you around towards the game section of the boardwalk.

You both end up playing a couple of arcade games first. It turns out he’s quite good at arcade games. But actual booth games…not so much.

You had been standing at the same booth for over twenty minutes, all because you had mentioned that the stuffed bear was cute. After failing for about the tenth time you noticed Toad getting frustrated and you could already tell he was about to use his powers. But before he could, you intervened, “Toad, come on let’s not waste all our time on this one thing.”

Successfully pulling him away from the booth, his shoulders droop. “Aww man I’m such a loser.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, these games are rigged most of the time.” He shook his head at your words, “not just that. I mean look at me,” he motions his hand in the air, up and down. “I’m practically a freak. I don’t even understand why you agreed to go out with me.”

“Hey!” You yell turning to him with a stomp of your foot. He jumps back at your sudden shout, “don’t talk about yourself like that. This date has been perfect. You’ve been super sweet and funny.” It’s true. Although there’s been some slip ups, he’s managed to turn them all into something positive.

“You don’t need to go out to try to impress me.” His eyes look up and meet yours for a moment before you avert your own gaze. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Toad suddenly grabs your hand, gaining your attention and with a smile on his face he begins tugging you back towards the booth. “Where are we going?” You ask.

“To get you that bear!”

Eventually the date comes to an end and you two arrive back at the institute empty handed. “Sorry I couldn’t win you anything,” he apologizes and you shake your head. “It’s okay. I just can’t believe you offered to pay forty bucks for it.”

“I can’t believe the guy didn’t take my offer,” he added and you let out a laugh before you stopped at the front door.

“I don’t want this to end,” he says. “Well me neither but we have school tomorrow and then I have training,” you reason.

“I know. But I feel like when I wake up tomorrow, this will all be a dream.”

You tilt your head thinking about what to do before you get an idea. Leaning forward you press your lips against his cheek for a second. Tilting back you catch him staring at you with a blank expression and no words for the first time that whole night.

You clear your throat before saying, “there. That’s how you know it wasn’t a dream.” He remains silent and you reach for the door handle, “goodnight Toad.” You shut the door behind you and it isn’t until you’re out of his sight that his face erupts into a huge grin while he fist-pumps the air.

~~~~~

Okayyyyyy…so I may have written him a little sweeter than he is in the show, but I feel like if he actually got with someone he would 1,000% do whatever they say

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bay-did-nothing-wrong · 3 years

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Tell All (Donatello x Reader)

Synopsis: Don and the Reader had been hiding their relationship from his family but they decide its finally time to come clean.

Genre: Fluff mostly, some crack, literally one sex pun

Word count: 1946

Soft.

So soft.

Wasn't his skin supposed to be rougher all together? How were his lips so soft and smooth then? Just another mystery.

Your mouths split with a tiny wet sound, but neither of you was in a rush to go anywhere.

But you should have been.

"Dinner's ready!" came Mikey's energetic shout from somewhere withing the lair. Probably the kitchen.

A soft longing sigh left your lips, and you felt a warm current of air hit your face - Don felt the same.

"We should go." you state, convincing yourself as much as him.

"Do we have to?" he whined breathlessly.

Yes, yes, you did. And he knew that. You both did. Otherwise his brothers and his very observant father will notice you're acting suspicious. They'll probably figure out he wasn't just helping you study for that AP Statistics exam. That is, if they hadn't already.

Your hands slid down his shoulders in an attempt to separate you two but instead they fell onto the top of his plastron, thumbs running softly over the last uncovered skin there, where you knew he was sensitive.

"Hmmm..." it came out as a low growl and it surrounded you on all sides. "You're not helping."

"Am I ever?"

"DONNIE! (Y/N)! DINNER!" at least Mikey stuck to the strict "No entering during study-sessions" rules. That's good to know that he can be intimidated into compliance. Or blackmailed... Point is, it worked.

Donnie's head falls in defeat, forehead leaning on yours for support.

So glad he took those goggles off. You can see more of him this way.

He sighed again, defeated - he was too smart to not figure out that at some point your behavior will raise suspicion. His head lifted back, and turned to the door.

"Coming!"

And your cheeky ass giggled at that.

"Oh, Donnie." you teased, "I haven't even started."

"Pfft. " chuckle, and a snort.

He really did like your dirty puns.

The man took your hand into his cool giant one, somehow providing comfort like no other, as he pulled you to the lab entrance. But once at the door you had to split. It's part of the arrangement.

His family shouldn't know about you.

You two decided at the early stage of your budding romance that keeping the whole thing on the down-low for a while was the smartest choice. It would prevent his brother's jealousy, it won't incite any fights, it won't change their relationship with you and you'll get to feel things out at your own pace - no pressure or prying eyes.

Just you.

But there was a list of downsides too. For one, neither of you was a great actor, Don was even shit at lying, so you'd had to take extra steps to remain as friendly-looking as possible. Then there was the trying-to-set-you-up-with-Vern thing that April was doing and every time the topic came up you could act regular-disgusted but not in-a-happy-relationship disgusted, and so would your favourite turtle. And then there was the hiding, coveting each other in the lab or in small stolen moments in the lair, and the lying about going topside to do recon or install something somewhere, the covering up - no, of course Donnie wasn't with you at your place, he must have gone somewhere else.

You were quite honestly sick of it. You were ready to tell his brothers. You were ready to tell the world.

"We should tell them." his voice was once again low, quiet as if to preserve the last few moments of the secret to yourselves.

Once again you were entirely in sync despite being vastly different.

He was a genius, you, decidedly, weren't.

He was really into sports, you weren't.

He was a 6'8 ninja turtle raised underground by a rat dad, and you obviously were not.

And yet somehow, you clicked.

"I agree."

At that point you knew that your approval would kick into gear the most destructive process in Donnie's mind - overthinking.

Your hand immediately darted out and grabbed one of his pulling it up to your lips and kissing the knuckles in reassurance.

"We'll figure it out."

But still, you had to split. Even if you did plan to tell them, there would be a time and a place for that.

"What took you so long? The lasagna got cold." Mikey was positively outraged - as much as he could be - by your lack of interest in his usually excellent cooking.

"Sorry, Mikey." you butted in, trying to save the day, "There's just something about Inferential Statistical Analysis that I can't wrap my head around." Bullshit, you knew exactly what it was and how it worked - it's part of the basics but he didn't need to know that.

"Still smells great though!" Don sounds cheerful enough even though you'd just agreed to break the fragile peace in your relationship just a minute prior. He was getting really good at the lying part. Too bad it won't be needed for much longer.

Dinner was as uneventful as it can be around five mutant ninjas. Master Splinter asked about your day, you told him about the nearing finals season and he offered some comforting words after which the conversation bounced around the rest of the family in a natural progression.

Once you were full, and once all of Mikey's delicious food had been virtually inhaled by the four giant men around you, you got up to get the dishes to the kitchen and help clean up. It was only fair, after all.

Apparently it was Ralph's turn to wash dishes and there was no wiggling out of that because Splinter said so. Well, at least you can dry them.

And dry them you did, meanwhile casual conversation about whatever kept flowing and you figured you won't be able to go back to the lab and do some more 'Statistics'.

You were just drying and putting away the last plate when a thiqq arm stretched over your head to reach a cupboard you couldn't even get to in your dreams.

Your head whipped back, eyes landing straight on some hard looking chest plates under a pair of suspenders. And then you looked up and saw Donatello, the cheeky shit, with a pop tart in his mouth and a shit-eating grin around it.

"Oops, sorry, (Y/N), didn't see you there."

Oh, I'll give you Oops, didn't see me, my ass. You'll see.

He was being unusually open about his closeness to you and that was less then an hour after you'd decided to come clean.

He was ready then.

"I was planning on checking out the meatpacking District tomorrow." Leo was going on about that idea he had to check out some building or another, Mikey was wiping down the table, and Raph was finishing up the dishes, and for once Don was just there chilling.

His treat was gone, meaning he ate it all, he seemed relaxed, his shoulders loose and shell leaning on the wall.

No time like the present.

"You guys, I'm gonna head out. I've got work tomorrow and after that I've got a study group to attend so, I should head to bed."

"You need us to walk you home?" Leo asked more out of courtesy, he knew you lived close and would usually decline.

"No, no, that's okay." you replied, looking for your bag and jacket where you'd left them near the kitchen table.

"Aaaw, you're leaving already? Well, at least you ate." Mikey quickly swept you into a hug goodbye and turned back to sorting his ingredients in the cupboards.

"Thanks to you, Mikey Steward." to which he giggled in response.

"See you tomorrow, shorty." Raph waved as he turned to get a beer from the fridge.

"Stay safe out there, okay?" Leo always the guardian, warned you for the hundredth time, again just out of courtesy.

And then you walked to where Don was leaning on the wall, took his chin in your hand and pulled him down.

Oh, shit, am I actually gonna do this!?

Your lips met, your heart pounded, the room became super hot and that wasn't just because of the brilliant piece of man-candy in your hands. You could feel their eyes but then again that was the whole point.

A loud dramatic intake of air was heard, a drop of something metallic and then silence.

Your face pulled away from him, eyes opening slightly to look at him, as your weight fell back onto your heels from standing on your tiptoes. His face had that same dazed, satisfied-yet-hungry look that he usually had whenever you'd had to break apart.

He tasted so sweet, you just had to lick your lips at the memory.

"I'll see you tomorrow." you whispered, that was all you could force out in that moment.

"See you tomorrow." his voice was as soft as yours even though his brothers could probably hear.

You fully pulled away from your man, now certain that there'd be no secrets between you and the ninja clan.

You were not an actor, you quickly got embarrassed with your performance, however brilliant it may have been, and speedily scammed to pick up your belongings and jogged outta there.

You turned one last time, because something in you said you should and what you saw was truly a sight.

All three of Don's bothers with their mouths hanging open and Splinter peeking out of the door to the dojo with his eyes like saucers and then there's Donnie - the image of peace, hands in his pockets, a soft smile on his lips, now shiny from your lip gloss, and looking you straight in the eye as you retreated.

"Bye." you shout to no one in particular and scramble for the exit.

-_-_-_-_-

Phone - charging

Alarm - set

Pajamas - on

What's missing then?

Ding!

Your phone notified you that someone was requesting your attention and you were more than happy to find out it was your man.

'Hey, Laika' Oh lord it so got you giggling like a schoolgirl when he called you that.

'Hey, Tyson' and then he told you that he loved to be compared with the biggest name in astrophysics today.

'How did it go?' you felt super bad for bailing on him but at the same time there was this relief that came with the cat being out of the bag.

'Surprisingly well. No one was mad that we kept it a secret.' well, that's good. You won't have to jeopardize your relationship with the boys. 'Dad still wants to talk to you tho'

Ah, well, that's to be expected. Even though Donnie is an adult, the were still a very tightly knit family unit so, you supposed that something like that would be a pretty big deal.

'That's fine, I'd do whatever'

'I wish I could kiss you rn'

It honestly shocked you how chill about it he was. Probably because he wasn't being grilled for information anymore, neither of you would have to lie anymore, and because he could now tell Vern to fuck right off, with no worry about how it would look.

You were so looking forward to being solely and entirely his.

'Tomorrow we start anew'

He had a point, things would change. But hopefully not between you.

'Can't wait to meet you for the first time again lol' you didn't know if you were being funny or just cheesy but it felt right.

Despite your smile, your eyes started drooping, your breaths slowing and you felt the exhaustion of the day slowly hug you like a blanket.

'Goodnight'

'Goodnight, (Y/N)'

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing viii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 1, 964

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“I can’t believe this!” Jeonghan puffs while he drops his belongings loudly onto the table in the study lounge, causing a few other students to turn and glare.

“Would it kill you to be quiet?” Jungkook grumbles, picking at the edge of the paper of his textbook, eyes never straying away from the content of the page.

“No. I will not be quiet because I thought football bros were bros for life!” Jeonghan whines.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “You know that’s kind of concerning when you put it that way.”

Jeonghan simply waves the other boy off before he leans forward as if he has something important he has to say. Jungkook knew him well enough to know that it would either waste Jungkook’s precious study time or be something so out of the ordinary that he can’t help but be intrigued.

Jungkook shrugged and takes the chance, anyway.

“Namjoon bailed.” He deadpans. “Again!”

Jungkook stiffens ever so slightly but feigns disinterest with a noncommittal hum.

“Really.”

Jeonghan nods his head, or shook his head—it was hard to tell because he was all over the place and he seemed more displeased than anything.

“I never thought we’d lose our own captain to a girl.” He sniffs.

Jungkook sighs, already done with the conversation because somehow no one can ever mention Namjoon without mentioning you now, apparently because the two of you were hanging out much more frequently. He’s bitter. And he’s confused—because he’s attempted patching things up with you but you only would ever reply to him with curt responses than the enthusiastic ones you used to flatter him with.

JK: hey. there’s a new cafe outside of campus. U wanna go?

Smarty Pants 🐰: Im busy. Next time? :)

JK: are u free tonight?

JK: im heading to the library later. wanna meet up for some ramen first? On me!!!

Smarty Pants 🐰: sorry jungkook, meeting w administrators for pastoral care matters

Smarty Pants 🐰: Do you need help with the content?

JK: oh… it’s fine, just wanted to hang out with you. We haven’t done that in a while

JK: jimin said u finally have some free time next week? Let’s catch up! i’ll treat u to some banana bread :D

Smarty Pants 🐰: i have plans with joon. which day were you thinking?

JK: Anytime. When are you meeting hyung?

Smarty Pants 🐰: we kind of have plans every day, here and there. could I get back to you?

And that was it. The blow that Jungkook knew he deserved but couldn’t deal with. You had tried your best to avoid any personal interaction with Jungkook and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“They’re kind of perfect for each other, don’t you think?” Jeonghan interrupts Jungkook’s sour mood when he recalls all his failed attempts at trying to meet with you personally.

Jungkook blinks then furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Joon and your friend _____.” He knocks on the table. “Bunch of nerds together.” He adds with a snicker.

Jungkook stiffens, hands clutching his textbook tighter.

“You say that like there’s something wrong with being a nerd.” He says slowly.

“There isn’t. Really.” Jeonghan defends. “It’s just so … fitting. Captain of the football team who’s lowkey a softie and an art nerd with the overachiever on campus. Their IQ’s combined are probably in the 300 range.”

Jungkook scowls.

“Haven’t you heard of the phrase ‘opposites attract’?” Jungkook asks sourly.

Jeonghan scoffs. “Yeah. Like you actually believe in that cliche phrase. Come on—we all know you’re likely to end up with someone who’s more like you than different.”

The insinuation doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, but he can’t chew Jeonghan out for it anyway. He didn’t know the nature of your friendship with him, nor was he aware of the history the two of you shared.

“Never say never.” Jungkook shrugs.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes before taking out his laptop and settling into a comfortable position.

“I think he’s going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon.” He says off-handedly as if he assumed Jungkook gave a shit.

He did, and his heart drops to his stomach.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls out when he spots you slip past him at the foyer outside the humanities building.

You twirl around at the sound of your name being called, and your eyes widen when you spot Jungkook walking towards you with furrowed brows.

“J-Jungkook?”

Why you sounded so scared to see him, he wasn’t sure. But he knows that he’s frustrated because it’s the first time he’s seen you after the game where you and Namjoon left to hang out at the exhibition, despite his desperate attempts at calling you out to hang out with him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Jungkook frowns, cutting straight to the chase.

You splutter for a response, and you realise that you’re basically gaping at him when you clutch your folders tighter to your chest.

“I’ve been busy, Jungkook. I told you this.” You softly remind him.

Jungkook scoffs, and he feels his mean bone grow; feeling the need to correct you because you were smart—and both of you knew that your excuse was lame.

“Really?” He says dryly. “Too busy to hang out with me but not with Namjoon?” He can’t help how bitter he sounds, especially when he’s heard from the rest of the football members; including Jimin and Taehyung that you were spending a suspicious amount of time with the captain.

You furrow your brows at him when Jungkook stares you down, waiting for a response.

“That doesn’t change the fact I was busy.” You huff.

Jungkook frowns at you, clutching his backpack tighter with his hand as he notices the way you avoid his eyes by dropping them to the ground.

“Why are you being like this?” Jungkook accuses, tone already on the offensive.

You gape up at the boy, brows scrunched in displeasure.

“Me? I’m not being anything. I told you that I was busy and we would rain check, didn’t I?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek, frustration pooling in his stomach. “Somehow you’re only busy whenever I want to hang out, right?” He scoffs sarcastically. “I thought we were good.”

You stiffen, knuckles turning white when you grip your belongings harder.

“We are.” You say curtly.

“No, we’re not.” Jungkook retorts. “If we were then you wouldn’t need to find shitty excuses to get out of hanging out with me.”

You open your mouth, then close it. You feel yourself grow more exasperated with Jungkook the more he can’t realise the fact that you were still finding a way to navigate the throes of your relationship with him.

“They were not shitty excuses.” You snap. “Listen, we can meet tomorrow for coffee if you really—”

“That’s not what this is about!” Jungkook exasperates, breathing out in a huff.

You purse your lips. “Then what is it, Jungkook? You came up to me and started accusing me of lying to you because I couldn’t meet up at the times you proposed.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw when he notices the way your voice gets increasingly sterner when you talk to him. It only reminds him of the way you used to chastise him when he was younger when he’d do something that was ‘immature’ but standard for a teenaged boy.

“I apologised!” He cries. “I’m sorry I was a dick before this but I’m really trying to fix things between us but you’re—”

“I’m what, Jungkook?” You interject with a frown. “I’m doing my best at healing?” You add softly. “An apology won’t erase what happened.”

Jungkook feels himself deflate, especially at the way your eyes dart away when he attempts to look into them.

“I know it won’t but I just want things to go back to normal.” He sighs.

You screw your eyes shut, finding the words to say before you look at him with such sad eyes that he nearly pulls you close just to comfort you so that he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the fact that it was his fault.

“It’s not that easy.” You whisper, gripping at the hem of your sleeves. “It may be for you but it’s not the same for me.”

Jungkook releases a sigh so loud that your eyes widen, as he attempts to think of something better to say—to offer.

“I really am sorry.” He lamely apologises, his voice sounding a lot like a scolded child.

“I know.” You nod. “But you don’t know how it feels to have …” You swallow. “Whatever. We’re good. I just need time, Jungkook.”

Jungkook furrows his brows when you turn away to stalk off, but he grabs at your elbow to turn your body to face him. Your eyes briefly make contact with the way he’s gently holding onto you before they tilt up to meet his confused gaze.

“How it feels to have what?” He pries.

You sigh, shaking off his grip. “Look. It doesn’t matter. I’m being sensitive.” You deprecate immediately.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the spite in your tone, especially when you say it so firmly and seriously when you dismiss him.

“I want to fix this—us.” He pleads desperately. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

As if his words set you off, your eyes snap up and blaze with the pent up fury and anger you’ve been suppressing the entire time.

“Me? Be honest with you?” You scoff. “Real fucking funny. Because when I was honest with you, you turned it on me and took advantage of my vulnerability.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “What—?”

“You want honest?” You fume. “Fine. I’ll give you honest but you better listen closely this time because I won’t be repeating myself again.” You poke into his chest, even if it’s fierce and stern, he feels the heartache pouring through. “You were my best friend, Jungkook. You were and are someone important to me and you fucked me over because you knew I couldn’t say no to you. You knew how I felt and you took advantage of that fact just so you could get what you wanted and go.”

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, confused at the information you were throwing at him.

“How you felt—?”

You cut him off again with a huff. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t know. Why else did you think I did all the shit you wanted?”

“I-I don’t understand.” Jungkook stutters, head caught in a loop when you glare at him harder.

“You knew every bit of insecurity that I had and you weaponised that against me just so you could keep me close.” You say softly. “You knew, either way, I would’ve stayed because I’ve always been there, Jungkook.”

“You’re confusing me.” He deadpans, grabbing onto your shoulders so you were forced to stare at him.

He notices the glistening of your eyes as he feels his heart constrict when he realises you’re trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

“Well, you did it first so it’s only fair.” You sniffle. “You can act like shits fine because you weren’t the one who was attached. I was. So just let me have this time to myself to figure things out because I can’t even be around you without being sad, Jungkook.” You whimper.

He calls for your name but you're already furiously rubbing at your eyes as you curse under your breath as you spin on your heels to hurry away.

Jungkook gapes at you as he attempts to process what you just said, but before he can get another word in—you're leaving him to feel the weight of your words in the footsteps that draw further and further away.

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lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

“hey google? whats social interaction?”

two fics in one day hell yeah. this time it’s for an AU i don’t think i’ve talked about here, called the Shy!Wukong AU, in which 500 years of isolation had the consequence of absolutely destroying Wukong’s social skills and confidence.

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on Ao3

When MK arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain that afternoon, it was quiet. He walked around for a few minutes, enjoying the silence, a big difference from the constant sound of the city, before sighing.

He walked over and leaned against a tree, barely hearing the soft intake of breath from behind it.

"I know you're there, Monkey King." He sighed again, taking the staff out and twirling it. "I could see your tail y'know."

Wukong slowly emerged from behind him, walking around the tree to stand just outside of MK's reach. MK purposefully didn't look at him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that his mentor was avoiding eye contact.

"Ah, uh, yeah uh, hey bud." Wukong said, "I uh, didn't know you were here-"

"You were meant to come hang out with me and my friends today." MK said, and Wukong slumped. "I understand having some days were you're just not up for interacting, but this is the third time. ...Why won't you interact with my friends?"

He asked this as gently as he could, but still Wukong shrunk back a little.

"They....they can sense weakness..." Wukong muttered, and now MK did look at him, with confusion.

"Wh- no they don't- well, Mei might, but still." He pushed off the tree, turning to face Wukong fully. "You seriously need to get some more social interaction- it'll help you be more confident again!"

Wukong opened his mouth as though to speak-

"Fighting Macaque that one time doesn't count as social interaction." MK deadpanned, watching unimpressed as Wukong nervously scratched the side of his face. "....Tell you what, if you come with me and Mei shopping tomorrow, I'll get off your case for a week. Does that sound okay?"

"...Yeah..." Wukong quietly gave his assent, and MK beamed.

"Great! Now, are we going to do training?"

"I didn't plan anything out though...."

"That's okay, we can just spar!"

Wukong was 20 minutes late.

MK glanced at his watch again just to make sure that he was reading the time right, before looking back over to Mei. She was playing some game or other on her phone, looking bored.

"Y'know, I'm starting to think Mr. Monkey King might be scared of me." Mei said after another minute went by with still no sign of Wukong.

"Honestly, you might not be too far off from the truth there." MK admitted, "I was half expecting him to at least send a clone, but he must know that I catch on to that immediately now."

"Do you think he's alright?" Mei put her phone back in her pocket, now glancing at the sky with concern. "Like, he didn't freak too much over it and hole himself up in his room or something again, did he?"

"No, he's already met you once, so I don't think it'd be that bad again." MK pulled the staff out of his pocket, contemplating for a moment. "...Hey Mei, how would you like a trip to Flower Fruit Mountain?"

"I would love to." Mei smirked, before turning around and entering the mall, grabbing hold of the back of MK's hoodie to drag him in along with her. "But first, we're gonna need some supplies!"

When MK and Mei arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain, it was once again quiet.

"Okay." MK shifted the bag he was carrying on his arm, adjusting his grip. "He's probably up in his little house behind the waterfall. He probably knows we're here by now, so..."

"So all we have to do is find him." Mei finished, "Don't worry MK, I remember the plan."

"Right. Okay." They passed through the water fall, walking through the cave. Standing in front of Wukong's door, MK set his bag on the ground in order to lift his arm and knock.

One of the younger monkeys opened the door.

"Hey there!" MK said, "Is Monkey King here?"

The tiny monkey chitters out a response MK interprets as yes, moving aside to let Mei and MK through. Mei easily finds her way into the kitchen, and MK can hear the clattering of some pots and pans as she shuffles things around (they'd bought some hot chocolate, and apparently Mei refused to wait any longer before making it). MK, meanwhile, sets his bag down by the door and starts looking for Wukong.

It ends up not being very hard really, as he finds his mentor laying on the couch, a blanket pulled over top of his head, his tail poking out and resting on the floor, stiff.

...Too stiff.

"Monkey King?" MK asks, and he sees the fur on Wukong's tail bristle, but yet the monkey himself doesn't move. "I know you're awake."

Wukong says something entirely incoherent.

"Me and Mei are here to have a sleepover, if you're wondering." MK says, "Since you didn't come shopping with us."

There's no response.

Suddenly Mei curses, and there's a loud clatter in the kitchen. MK turns, suitably distracted.

"Y'alright?" He yells.

"Fine! Monkey King just has horrible sorting skills is all!" Is the response he gets, and MK quietly chuckles because, well, she's not wrong.

When he turns back around, Wukong is out from under the blanket, standing up, his usual nervous smile plastered on his face.

...But something's off. His back is too straight, for one, the Monkey King that MK knows is normally slightly slouched. The look in his eyes doesn't show shyness either, rather an attempt at faking being shy.

MK makes his deduction in less than a second.

"You're a clone aren't you."

"Oh thank heavens." The Wukong clone, relaxes just slightly, the nervous smile slipping off in favor of a more relaxed, natural one. (One that, notably, MK has only seen on Wukong's clones. Well, he thinks he saw his mentors real smile once, but Wukong had left rather fast after that, so MK had never been actually sure.) "I wasn't sure how long I could pretend to be nervous for."

"He's trying to bail again, huh." MK said, not even surprised, having mostly known this would happen. 500 years by himself had really taken it's toll on the Monkey King, MK still wasn't sure how exactly Wukong had lost his confidence, but the consequences of whatever it was were fairly obvious. It had taken forever for MK to actually get his mentor to just have normal conversations with him instead of just leaving him sticky notes with instructions on them. During that time, Wukong had run away from MK *multiple* times.

Well, not tonight. MK personally respected Wukong's lack of knowledge on how to be social, and knew first hand the experience of not feeling up to interacting with people. But if Wukong didn't at least try to step over his comfort zone, then he'd never become confident again.

Wukong's clone seemed to have the same idea, as he turned, walking off down a hallway. MK heard a door open- followed by a yelp of betrayal, and then the clone was back, carrying a flustered Monkey King over his shoulder, dumping him onto the couch before vanishing, just as Mei entered the living room with a tray covered in candies, as well as three mugs of hot chocolate.

"Did I miss anything?" She asks, setting the tray down on the coffee table, before sitting on the couch to the left of Wukong. The Monkey King actually squeaked, shifting to move to the other side, only to be stopped by MK sitting on his right. Almost as though they'd planned it, they both leaned up against Wukong simultaneously, feeling how he stiffened at the sudden contact.

"Did you get the remote?" Mei asked, sipping at her hot chocolate.

"Yep." MK held the remote up with one hand, easily accessing Wukong's Netflix account. (He'd accidentally stumbled upon the password one of the times the monkeys had shoved him into the house in an attempt to help him interact with Wukong.) "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm, dunno. What do you think, Mr. Monkey King?"

Wukong didn't respond. He still hadn't relaxed either. His eyes looked slightly unfocused, and MK could practically hear the computer crashing noises.

Jeez. Wukong was a lot more touch-starved than he had thought.

And then Wukong moved, sliding down a little, covering his face with his hands. Mei and MK shared a look of concern.

Maybe this much contact was a bit too much to start?

MK leaned away from Wukong, putting just the slightest bit of distance between them, Mei following his lead soon after.

They were both quiet for a moment, silently considering what to do next as Wukong continued to not look at them.

...And then Mei grabbed the pillow behind her, slowly raising it over her head.

MK barely had the time to register what she was doing before the pillow smacked him in the face.

Mei burst out laughing at MK's surprised look, jumping up off the couch, pulling more pillows out of...somewhere. MK hadn't seen her grab them, but they were certainly there now.

He ducked down, sliding off the couch as a pillow soared over his head, flopping against the couch cushions, having not met it's target. He barely managed to shift out of the way of a second pillow, catching a third before it could hit him in the chest.

"Oh it is on!" He cheered, spinning around before throwing the pillow at Mei as hard as he could.

Soon enough the pillow fight increased to all out warfare, more pillows seemingly appearing out of nowhere. MK laughed, nearly forgetting about Wukong-

And then a pillow hit him in the back of the head.

Both he and Mei paused, knowing for a fact that Mei hadn't thrown it, she was in front of him, getting him from behind was impossible.

MK turned around just in time to see Wukong create another pillow out of one of his hairs and throw it.

When MK pulled the pillow off of his face, he was greeted with Wukong's nervous smile, and a bit of anxious laughter.

MK glanced at Mei.

Well. This wasn't exactly the way they had planned to help Wukong come out of his shell a bit, but it could work.

Sleepovers became more frequent after that. Typically they ended up with just a pillow fight, but still, it was some progress, however small.

MK and his friends were more than content to take things slow, let Wukong relearn how to socially interact and overcome his shyness the normal way.

And then New Years happened.

Wukong was still definitely not comfortable interacting with anyone other than Mei, MK, and Sandy, but he did start showing up a bit more frequently. (MK had noticed that Wukong tried his hardest to be more confident around Pigsy. He wasn't sure as to why Wukong did so, but he did. Pigsy himself seemed concerned about it as well, but for the most part let it slide). MK sometimes couldn't help but feel that his mentor seemed a bit...worried about something. But whenever he asked, Wukong would just clam up, sometimes even going so far as to distract MK before teleporting away.

But whatever. It was fine, they were making progress. Wukong was actually somewhat talking to people now, albeit he was still quiet, and easily flustered at the smallest of things. (Tang had briefly mentioned how impressive Wukong's feats were in an offhand sentence, and the Monkey King had practically shut down for an entire half an hour.)

...Unlike MK and the others however, Demon Bull King was more than slightly concerned.

The New Years Incident had been his first time seeing the Monkey King since 500 years ago, and needless to say, he was not what he expected.

He remembered Wukong being boastful, confident, easily coming up with snarky quips left and right.

So it was definitely a shock when, instead of annoyingly chatting or created stupid jokes while captured by Spider Queen, Wukong had simply sat there, quiet, a light blush dusting his face as he sulked, embarrassed over having gotten caught.

Demon Bull King could only wonder what in the world could've happened that would've rendered the Monkey King so shy.

He'd shared his concerns with his family, of course, in a roundabout, thinly veiled way. (He had been fairly certain that the monkey of the conversation had actually been spying on them at the time). Princess Iron Fan had commented about seeing Red Son in a slightly similar state, considering how he never could seem to hold an actual conversation with MK or Mei, instead always challenging them to a battle. (She was concerned, for her son. She'd known that staying in his lab, working on inventions day in and day out would definitely be bad for his social skills, but Red Son had been so stubborn at the time that there'd been nothing she could do.)

Red Son, of course, entirely missed hearing the conversation about himself.

He did however, hear the one about Wukong.

Which, of course, led to-

"Wake up, simian!"

Wukong startled, rolling out of bed, falling to the floor, his blankets falling on top of him and obscuring his vision. He scrambled for a minute, trying to get his bearings as he struggled with the blankets, trying to clear his vision.

A light laugh made him freeze, suddenly glad for the blankets covering him as he felt his face flush as he realized he wasn't alone.

"Seriously? This is the great, powerful Monkey King everyone is afraid of?"

It took a moment for him to place the voice, slowly lifting the blankets up, keeping his head hung low as he checked to make sure.

Bright red jacket. The faint smell of smoke.

Red Son.

Wukong looked away, trying to pull up every inch of confidence he'd regained.

"....How'd you get into my house?" Is what he ended up saying, and he mentally patted himself on the back for not having his voice break mid sentence.

"Please, it's not like it's that difficult."

"There's a whole entire waterfall sealing the place."

"Which is very easy to by pass if you know how."

Wukong couldn't come up with a response for that, instead forcing himself to stand up, trying to put a normal smile on his face, but knowing it would probably only end up being his usual nervous one.

"Uh, um. Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"Well, uh, my father is worried about you so I'm here to help you or....whatever.... something like that..." Red Son said, getting a bit quieter and trailing off towards the end of his sentence.

"I-" Suddenly, irritation overcame Wukong's shyness and anxiety. "You- you're just as bad as I am!"

(Demon Bull King had been right. Wukong had been spying on them during that conversation. He'd originally planned on going over to talk to them, but then, well, as usual he'd panicked, and ended up listening in the rafters while waiting for an opportunity to leave unnoticed.

...That had been a long day.)

Red Son spluttered for a moment, before pulling himself together.

"I am not." He hissed, the edges of his hair sparking.

"You socialize with my successor by fighting him because you don't know how to ask him and Mei to hang out outside of battling." Wukong deadpanned, "And no, battles do not count as social interaction, according to MK."

There was a pause, where they both went silent, staring at each other, waiting for the next move.

An hour later, and they were both sitting on the floor of Wukong's bedroom, both of them looking slightly frazzled.

"I mean, just." Red Son said, "How do you talk to people?!"

"I literally have no idea." Wukong sounded just as stressed and dismayed as Red Son. "I mean, MK and his friends have been trying, and like, I guess it's been working, because they haven't complained about me yet, but still, just, what is social interaction??"

"I don't know!" Red Son groaned, holding his head in his hands. "If- if only we had someone who was really good at social interaction, someone we could copy-"

"Like MK?" Wukong asked, before immediately dismissing the idea in his next sentence. "No, no, he'd pick up on what we're doing and either make us stop or call us out on it way too fast...."

"Agreed, we definitely cannot use the Noodle Boy or his friends as an example." Red Son muttered, "But....to be honest with you, I don't know many other people."

"...Me either." Wukong flopped backwards to lay on the floor, both of them sighing in defeat.

And then Wukong, tensed sitting back up, a thoughtful but also very reluctant look on his face.

"...Actually, there is one person we might be able to go to..."

"...What's being social?"

Wukong and Red Son both looked at their last hope of a savior in dismay.

Macaque stared back with an equivalent amount of confusion.

The three of them sat in the middle of a small park, partially hidden from passerby by a line of bushes. Macaque wasn't even entirely sure how he'd gotten there, and wasn't even close to having a clue as to what was going on.

"What do you mean you don't know- you socialize literally every day!" Wukong threw his hands up into the air, in a mixture of anger and defeat.

"You alone are literally responsible for over half of the city's parties." Red Son added, "How can you not know how to be social when you're the perfect example of a social butterfly?"

"I don't know." Macaque shrugged. If anything, this reaction seemed to cause Red Son and Wukong more distress.

"So you're saying you.... don't actually know how to socially interact?"

"Uh, no?" Macaque leaned back, crossing his arms. "I kinda just go along with whatever happens so- wait why are you crying."

Red Son looked to his left to see that, oh, uh, Wukong was crying. He didn't seem like he wanted to be, if the way he was hiding his face behind his hands and trying to muffle his sobs was any indication, but he definitely was.

"You were our last hope of understanding social interaction." Wukong muttered, voice muffled by his hands. Red Son awkwardly hovered his hand over Wukong's shoulder, knowing that the other still wasn't entirely used to touch.

"...Aren't the both of you interacting with me ri-" Macaque was abruptly cut off as something grabbed him by the back of his scarf, pulling him back into the bush. Red Son was too focused on Wukong, and Wukong was too busy trying to stop crying, to notice the sudden disappearance.

Macaque landed on his back, spitting out a stray leaf as he looked up at MK. (He'd known Wukong's successor was spying on them, he'd heard him hide behind the bush. Still though, randomly grabbing him was a little bit annoying).

"You can't tell them that they're socially interacting." MK hissed, quiet enough that the other two couldn't hear him. Macaque raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Any particular reason as to why?"

"If you tell them they're actually interacting it's like- it's like Cinderella when the clock hits midnight, they both go back to being easily flustered recluses." MK said, "You've got to keep them going without realizing what they're doing for as long as possible."

"...Okay???" Honestly, this didn't clear things up for Macaque at all, but he wasn't going to try and argue with MK now.

MK let go off his scarf, and Macaque returned to his position in front of Wukong and Red Son, adding an extra glamour over top of himself so that his little trip through the bush would be entirely unnoticeable. Funnily enough, neither of them seemed to have noticed his temporary disappearance.

"So uh....wanna keep not-socializing with me at that cafe over there?" Macaque pointed over his shoulder at a nearby place he liked to visit. If he was going to do this, he was going to need another dose of caffeine. "I can maybe try and figure out some tips for you?"

"Yes please." Wukong and Red Son said in sync, already standing up and moving towards the cafe. Macaque stood up shortly after them.

Quietly, watching them walk in front of him, he thought; 'They're idiots.'

"Wukong, why are you hiding your face, Red Son's the one that just face planted while walking through a door!"

The Monkey King's response was completely incoherent, afflicted with second-hand embarrassment. Both he and Red Son refused to look Macaque in the eye.

The shadow monkey sighed, almost tempted to teleport away to find somewhere nice to scream.

MK better find a good way of paying him back for this.

#Monkie Kid #my writing #Shy!Wukong AU

132 notes · View notes

fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Never Too Late - Chris Evans x reader

a/n- hey lovely people!! i hope you’re all doing well:) i’ve been working on this one for a while, and i’m super excited to finally share it! because it’s Chris’ birthday, i wanted to have some fun with this, so in the story, chris says 3 things that are quotes / paraphrases of some of his characters’ quotes (like 3 things his characters said in movies lol). see if you can find all 3 of them;) enjoy<3

Summary: Romance is an illusion. Unattainable. Absolutely unrealistic. No one can have a fairytale love story. But maybe, you don't need a fairytale. You just need each other. (In which you and Chris have each given up on romance, but then you meet, and… sparks fly.)

Word Count: 9.6k (hello longest oneshot i’ve ever written!!)

Warnings: some curse words, (responsible) alcohol consumption, slight angst?? honestly it’s just obliviousness, slow burn!!!

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

This was a waste of time.

I'm sorry, the text read, something came up. Raincheck? ;)

Douche. He was the one that asked if you could do this today instead of tomorrow, so you moved your meeting. But apparently, that didn't matter, since he wasn't planning to show up anyway.

You blocked his number, leaving your place at the bar and heading towards the exit. You were in the middle of typing out a furious message to your friend who set you up on this blind date, when you collided with someone in your path quite harshly. You rubbed your arm where you bumped into the person and gazed upwards to meet his eyes.

"Sorry," you both said in unison.

The man let out a chuckle. "Sorry," he repeated, his amused eyes gazing into yours.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," you said, "I wasn't looking where I was going," you lifted up your phone, gesturing to the reason.

"I'm sure it was important," he made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "don't worry about it."

"It really wasn't. Again, sorry," you grimaced.

"It's fine," he reassured you, "I was actually on my way to get another drink so it's not like I spilled anything, no harm done," he smiled.

"Well, I'm really glad. Have a good rest of your night," you smiled back. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned to continue your walk towards the exit, opening your texts to write that message to your friend, but as you were turning around the man reached out and grabbed onto your wrist, not harshly but enough to make you turn around to face him once more.

He immediately let go of your hand, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, it's just… you seemed kind of upset when I bumped into you, are you alright?"

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile, "I'm fine," you looked up at him, "just got ditched by this blind date. Guy didn't show, so I was writing a furious message to my friend who set me up," you chuckled, "that's why I wasn't paying attention."

"Sorry," he said with a sympathetic grimace. "So why were you writing to your friend and not to the guy? I mean, he's the one who bailed."

"No offense, but I learned not to expect as much from the male species," you smirked, and he chuckled in return. "Got bailed on one too many times to have high expectations. Honestly, I was only willing to go on this date cause my friend said this was a great guy and, according to her, I was 'on the sure road to becoming a spinster'. So, I appeased her," you shrugged. Your confession left your lips with such ease, you were almost taken aback by how easy it was to talk to this complete stranger this openly. Maybe, it was easier because you were strangers.

"Ah, I know what that's like. I mean, not the spinster part, the part about appeasing your friends," he chuckled. "They're over there," he gestured to a table a little to the back, "to 'cheer me up'. Said I needed to leave my house more. Although I don't know if they're still sober enough to remember that's why they're here," he smiled affectionately as he looked at his table. Sure enough, the guys looked pretty drunk, but the man didn't seem to resent them for it, he was just amused.

"What did you need cheering up for?" you asked once his gaze went back to meet yours.

"Well, I got dumped. We were together for a few years. I even had a ring," he raised his eyebrows, "but she said it wasn't working out anymore. At least she didn't know about the ring yet," he smiled bitterly.

"Small victories," you nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "anyway, she just finished taking the last of her stuff from ou- my place. She was really lingering with it, we broke up like a month ago. Didn't have the heart to rush her."

"I'm sorry," you put a comforting hand on his shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. He seemed to appreciate it anyway. "Your sob story's way worse than mine," you joked, getting a small huff of laughter out of him.

"I guess," he said. "But that means I get where you're coming from on the whole no dating thing. It just seems pointless," he shrugged.

"I'm sure this is the part where anyone else would've told you that it'll be okay and you'll find 'your person', but since I'm shittier than that I'll be honest – romance is dead and we'll both probably die alone," you said flatly.

Your blunt tone made him smile, which in turn made you smile, and you nodded as your words sank into the silence between you. You started giggling, and soon he followed, and you were both laughing softly for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning, "I don't know why I'm laughing. It's sad."

"Very sad," you agreed, a grin on your face as well. "to be fair, spinsterhood doesn't sound that bad. Except for the cats thing. I'll never be a crazy cat lady," you shook your head, "they hate me, every single one. I'd get dogs though," you mused, "have a little army of 'em."

"Sounds fun," he smiled.

"Right?" you smiled back, "I'm telling you, it's not as bad as people make it out to be."

Wrapped up in your conversation, you were both still standing next to the bar, and another man pushed past you to get to the bartender. The bubble around the two of you exploded, and you remembered that you were still in public, at the bar.

"You should go get that drink you were here for," you said, gesturing towards the bar.

"Alright," he chuckled. Just then, the man finished ordering, so he told the bartender what he'd like to have, then turned to you.

"Hey, romance might be dead, but chivalry isn't. Let me buy you a drink," he grinned.

"Be still my beating heart," you feigned emotion, before a smile crept back onto your face. "I'll have whatever you're having," you shrugged, and waited as he told the bartender to bring you two another drink.

"So, if you're buying me a drink, I feel like it's only fair I should know your name," you smiled.

"That does seem fair," he sent a small smile your way. "I'm Chris," he put out his hand and you shook it, telling him your name in return.

"So, you come here often?" he smirked, prompting the both of you into another fit of laughter.

"For real though," you said once you got your drinks, "I'm really not looking for anything romantic right now. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," he reassured, "I'm not either."

"Okay good cause this is like, really tasty, so I wouldn't mind having a couple more," you held up the drink he got you with a grin, making him laugh.

You did have a couple more, with Chris. You ended up sitting at the bar, his friends not really noticing he was gone, and talking about anything and everything. You were almost reluctant to end the night, but you really should get home, which is what you told Chris before getting up and getting your wallet.

"Hey, no," he said and gestured for you to put it away, "I was serious, I'll pay."

"Really? I mean, this wasn't a date so I just thought-"

He shook his head adamantly and you put your hands up in surrender and smiled. "Okay. Thank you," you told him as you put your wallet away.

"You're very welcome. Although, there is something I still want to ask you. Can I get your number?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could he spoke up again.

"Nothing romantic, I swear," he chuckled, "but it was really fun hanging out tonight. We should do it again. Completely platonically." He smiled sincerely.

You narrowed your eyes in mock suspicion before laughing. "Alright. Sure, you can have my number," you said, and he grinned before giving you his phone. You put in your number and gave it back.

"See you around, Chris," you smiled before leaving the bar, the smile lingering on your face all the way back to your house.

And when your friends asked you how the date was, you told them he bailed and you went home, never mentioning meeting Chris. You knew how they'd see it, and it wasn't like that, so you just… kept it to yourself. For now.

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

On your way to Chris' house, you picked up the takeout from the place he told you about, before texting him you got it and you were almost there.

It's been a couple of weeks since you met him, and so far he was proving to be a great friend. You texted back and forth most days, but never found the time to meet up again, until today, that is.

You had texted him about your crappy day at work, and how happy you were this week was finally, finally over, so he invited you t his house, and suggested you watch a movie. And well, you accepted. A movie night with a friend was just what you needed to put this shitty week behind you.

"Hi," you greeted him once he opened the door.

"Hi!" he took the takeout bags from your hands and gestured for you to follow him inside, and into the kitchen. "So," he started, while taking out the food, "I realized forgot to tell you; I have a dog," he smiled apologetically, "I don't know if that's a problem, he's in my room upstairs, I won't-"

"Are you kidding?" you nearly squealed, "of course that's not a problem! I told you if I could I'd be a crazy dog lady," you giggled. "Can I meet him?"

"Great!" he chuckled at your enthusiasm, "sure, I'll go get him."

As he went upstairs, you stood there, looking around his kitchen. You weren't sure what to do, it seemed like he got all the food, and it wasn't your house, so… you just stood there.

Fortunately, you soon heard the patter of footsteps, and just as you were about to call out to Chris to ask him if there was anything you could do to help, you heard him yell out.

"Dodger!"

And just then, a big whirl of movement came towards you, and before you knew it a large dog was resting his paws on you, nearly knocking you back. You regained your footing before you crouched down to your knees with a beam.

"Hey," you cooed at the excited dog, who was wagging his tail and still trying to climb onto you, apparently. "Hey," you repeated yourself, rubbing behind his ears affectionately. "It's so nice to meet you," you kept cooing and stroking his fur. He propped himself up and licked your cheek, making you giggle. "Thank you, you're so cute," you scratched his neck affectionately.

"Sorry about him, he gets excited around new people," Chris came into the kitchen apologizing.

"No worries," you grinned as the large dog laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to you in a silent request for belly rubs which you willingly provided. "He's adorable," you looked up at Chris, who was grinning back at you.

"He really is," he agreed, going to finish putting the food in plates before lifting them.

"Can I help with anything?" you asked, still crouched down and petting Dodger.

"Nope, all set," he smiled, "let's go."

He led the way to his living room, where he set the plates down on the coffee table and picked up the remote. "So, what do you wanna watch?"

"Oh, I don't know," you shrugged as you sat down on the couch, "you can pick."

"Well, I would, but we're here because you've had a shitty week, so you should pick whatever you want."

"Ugh, don't remind me. See, Dodger would never do this to me," you turned your gaze to the dog, who has settled at your feet, and started petting him again. "Right? Of course you won't, you're the cutest dog," you cooed.

Chris burst out into a short laugh. "Are you going to steal my dog?"

"It's a very real possibility," you said dryly, shrugging. You turned your gaze to him, your hand still petting Dodger, and smirked.

"Okay, so are you gonna pick a movie now that we've settled that?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know what to pick," you admitted, "I don't wanna put on anything you don't like, I guess," you mumbled.

"Awwwww, it's fine," he assured with an easy smile, "pick whatever."

You caved and put on a movie you really liked – The Princess Bride. As he realized what movie you were putting on, Chris chuckled.

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"See? I told you I'd put on something you wouldn't like. Forget it, we can just-"

"No, no!" he cut you off, "I really like this movie," he grinned, "I just wouldn't expect that from someone who claims romance is dead, that's all," he chuckled.

"Well, movies have… dragons in them. Do you think dragons are real just cause they're in movies?" you reasoned.

"Okay, I see your point," he raised his hands in mock surrender.

A comfortable silence stretched over the both of you from that point, the only thing filling it was the sound of the movie playing and the occasional shuffling sound when either of you, or Dodger, shifted on the couch.

A bit later, Chris spoke up. "Hey, want a beer?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't have any. Driving myself home and all," you shrugged.

"Yeah, that's smart," he chuckled. You were both lowering your voices, as if not to disrupt the movie which was still playing. "Mind if I have one?"

"Not at all," you answered truthfully, "It's your house."

He let out another short chuckle, nodding before getting up. When he heard Chris getting up, Dodger lifted his head from where he was laying, and swiftly followed him into the kitchen.

When they returned, Chris brought you a glass of water, and gave it to you before sitting down. Dodger jumped back up onto the sofa, curling up beside Chris, laying his head on his stretched-out legs.

"Awwww," you softly smiled, "that's adorable. He really loves you."

"Not nearly as much as I love him," Chris replied, smiling and fondly rubbing Dodger's head.

"See, that's good love. Love that lasts," you remarked. Thinking that was the end of it, you turned your head back to the movie.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Huh?" you turned your head back to Chris.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated.

"Oh, nothing," you shook your head. "Just, you know. I know I seem very opposed to romance, but I'm not against love. I love my family," you shrugged, "because they made me the person I am today. They're a part of me. I just don't think that a love between two people who aren't family can last in the same way."

"Yeah. You're probably right. What about dogs though? They're certainly not blood related to us," he joked.

"Certainly," you laughed, "But dogs aren’t as fucked up as humans, so it's not really comparable. Dogs don’t stay up thinking about something embarrassing they did five years ago. Dogs probably don't even get embarrassed, really. They don't have as many doubts and… restrictions. Barriers. They don't have to make everything complicated."

"But humans do."

"Bingo," you chuckled dryly.

"We really do, don't we?" he sighed. "No one really knows what they're doing or who they are. How can you know someone else enough to truly love them when you don't even know yourself?"

"Exactly. You get it," you toasted your glass of water against his beer bottle. "it's too much effort for something that lasts so little."

"Not necessarily little," he suggested, "but never enough. You know, in movies, love is this big force of nature that draws two people towards each other so strongly… it's undeniable, unavoidable. Meant to be," he chuckled. "That feels so far away from anything I've ever experienced."

"Me too, if that's any comfort," you grimaced sympathetically. "Maybe we're just meant to be alone."

"Maybe. Anyway, that's grim," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," you smiled. "Every time I talk about it with my friends, I get told I just haven't found the right person yet, and to keep on hoping and everything will magically be sunshine and rainbows," you fluttered your eyelashes cynically. "It's fun to know there's at least one more realistic person out there," you sent him a small smile, which he returned.

You both turned back to watch the movie, which was heading towards the end at this point. The handsome prince saves the brave princess. He's not really a prince, but, you know. Same difference; it's a fairytale, a legend.

Something no one can ever truly have.

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

Chris and you had developed a habit of calling each other on Mondays, since they were the worst, and you both needed to vent. You were in the middle of one of those calls when something he said made you abruptly stop making your dinner.

"How come I didn't know it was your birthday?" you asked, surprised, at his admission that his birthday was yesterday.

"It never came up," he said. "Besides, it doesn't matter. The party's on Friday anyways, if you wanna come. You can bring some friends too, if you want. There's plenty of space."

"Yeah, okay," you smiled to yourself, "sure. Happy belated birthday, Chris."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "So you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, I guess," you sighed dramatically, prompting him to laugh.

"Great! See ya Friday," he said.

"See you."

After you hung up the call, you returned to your dinner, but not before texting your friends to invite them along. If you were getting on so nicely with Chris, you assumed the rest of his friends were nice people, so would in turn get along with your friends. Who were also nice people, obviously.

Or maybe, not so obviously.

There was an immediate flood of messages asking about who Chris is and how you met and if he's cute.

You ignored them in favor of finishing making your dinner, and only then sat down with your food and answered their questions, except for that last one.

He's a friend of mine I met not long ago, nice guy, you replied to the group chat.

And?? one of your friends texted.

And he invited me to this party he's throwing for his birthday, and told me I could bring friends, so now I'm inviting you guys. Hopefully, I won't regret that.

But is he cute???

I don't know, and I don't care. You know I'm not looking for anything right now!!

You're no fun. Fine, we'll come and see for ourselves ;P

You scoffed to yourself and continued to eat your dinner, unbothered. Maybe they should come, you mused, just to see that it's possible to make friends without dating them, like a sane adult.

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

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed as Chris ushered you and your friends into his house. "I brought you a wine," you extended the bottle and he took it.

"Thank you!" he said loudly, to overpower the music that was playing. "Is it good?"

"How should I know? I didn't drink from it, it's your gift!" you joked. He laughed before giving you a one-armed hug and waving at your friends. "I'm gonna put this away," he pointed towards the kitchen, "But you should go to the living room, everyone's there."

You gave him a thumbs up and led your friends towards the living room.

"He even laughs at your bad jokes," your friend cooed in your ear, and you sighed and rolled your eyes.

"We're not a couple!" you reminded her.

"Maybe not yet, but I'm just saying you'd make a good one," she shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

You ignored her, and continued walking. On your way to the living room, you did see a whole bunch of other people, but still, the party wasn't huge, especially compared to Chris' large house. There were no more than probably about 80 people there, not including yourself and your friends.

Pouring yourself a drink, you sat down next to your friends, who were already making small talk with another group, and joined the conversation.

Some time went by before the conversation turned to romance, and everyone started sharing funny stories about their significant others.

"What about you?" asked a woman from the other group. She seemed friendly, an easygoing smile on her face. "Everyone has a story to tell."

Before you could answer, one of your friends chimed in. "Oh, she doesn't do romance," she teased.

"Sounds mysterious," the woman laughed.

"Yep," you smiled, amused, "that's me. Dark, brooding, and mysterious."

As you were all laughing, Chris came down to sit next to you. "Having a good time?" he asked the group with a smile, a model host.

"Yeah," one of your friends answered, "we were just talking about how this one never dates anymore," she pointed at you, and you caught Chris' look, amused. "What do you think about that?" your friends asked, oblivious to the silent exchange.

"I think she should do whatever she wants to," he answered with a smile.

"Oh, don’t be diplomatic," she said, "don't you think she should find someone?" she pressed.

"I think she should do whatever she feels like," he persisted.

"Whatever," your friend rolled her eyes with a smile. "Every pot has a lid. Sooner or later, you'll find yours," she said, your words pointed at you now.

You were quiet for a brief moment before speaking up. "Oh, you're done talking about me like I'm not here. Sorry, you were saying?"

The entire group burst into laughter, and you caught Chris' gaze again.

Sorry, you mouthed, shrugging.

It's fine, he mouthed back with a small smile.

The urge to kill your friend subsided when you saw Chris didn't take her pestering too seriously.

For the rest of the night, you proceeded to have a good time, making conversation with a few other people and only running into Chris one more time.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, toasting his cup to yours.

"Yeah. You throw a great party," you smiled.

"I'm glad you think that," he returned your smile.

After that you returned to your friends, and a little while later you all decided to head home. You searched for Chris, thanked him for hosting the party and wished him a happy birthday, and went home.

"You're telling me there's nothing there?" your friend asked you on the ride home.

"There's nothing there," you sighed. "I don't know why you all want there to be."

"We just know what it's like being in love. And we want that for you. It's fun," she smiled.

"Parkour also sounds fun, that doesn't mean I can or am going to do it," you retorted. "You know what I think about being in love. Different people have different paths and abilities. I can be happy without a sweeping romance."

"I know, you're a strong independent woman and you don’t need no man," she rolled her eyes. "Just… don't close yourself off to the opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay," you shrugged.

Shortly after, she dropped you off, and you went to sleep, thinking nothing of the whole ordeal.

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

She came by today.

When you got the text from Chris on Wednesday, you were puzzled for a few moments before you realized. His former fiancée. I mean, almost fiancée.

Shit

Is everything okay?

It only took him a couple of seconds to reply.

Yeah, I guess.

On an obviously unrelated note, wanna come drink?

You chuckled before texting him your ETA, quickly changing from the already rumpled clothes you had worn all day, and driving to his place.

You texted him when you were outside, and when you walked up to his door it was already opened, and he was waiting for you, a bottle of beer in hand.

"Aw, you drove yourself here?" he asked, before ushering you in, "I told you we should drink."

"Yeah," you chuckled, "but it's not like there's anyone I can ask to drive me on a random Wednesday. It's fine, you drink."

"But I don't wanna drink alone," he whined. "Can't you just spend the night then? I have a guest bedroom."

You opened your mouth to refuse, but then assessed it again. You were in pretty comfortable clothes, you were starting work a little later than usual tomorrow, and well… he needed a friend, and he asked you.

"Okay, fine," you chuckled, "gimmie one of those," you gestured at his beer.

He made a little celebratory motion with his hand before going and getting you another beer.

"So," you started as you took a swig of your beer, "how was your day?"

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Great. Yeah, just… just great," he took a large gulp of his beer. You waited, giving him the space he needed to speak again. "She wanted to get back together, actually," he scoffed. You frowned, but still refrained from speaking.

"You know, I… I still have the ring," his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I still have the ring because I wanted her to come back. But when she finally did I… I couldn't say yes to her. Because it's forever or nothing. And I don't think I'm meant to have a forever. Certainly not with someone who broke up with me anyways," he took another sip of his beer.

"If it's any comfort, I don't think there's such a thing as forever," you shrugged, and he looked at you quizzically. "I told you," you said, "all romance is momentary."

"Maybe that's true," he sighed again. "At any rate, I am now stuck with this ring, which is just… fantastic. Really awesome."

"Can't you bring it back to the shop?"

"Tried to. They won't take it back, say it's been too long for their return policy. That money's lost," he took another sip of beer.

"Well, you know, if it's lost anyways…" you smiled, "I think I have an idea of what to do with it. but first," you raised your beer in a toast, "we do need to be a little drunker for this."

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

A few too many drinks later, you and Chris were stumbling in a park near his home.

"How do you know where we are?" he asked, before nearly tripping on his face, making you giggle as he managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

"I've been here before," you explained, a little less drunk than he was but still positively buzzed. "It's really pretty."

"It is," he agreed, taking in the trees around you as you kept going. "It's also very isolated. Are you going to kill me?" he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"No," your loud laugh rang through the park, breaking the silence of the night. "I'm not gonna kill you. Promise. Now c'mon, we're nearly there!" you beckoned him to follow you as you ran forward.

The rest of the way went by quickly, the both of you striding hurriedly, or as hurriedly as your inebriated minds would allow, engulfed in the comforting silence of the night. Finally, you got to a clearing with a large lake.

The crescent moon reflected in the water, and the lake was shimmering slightly as the wind disturbed it. The only sounds were those of your slightly labored breath, the soft trickling of the water, and the occasional flap of a bird's wings. The silence surrounded you, but it wasn't suffocating, it was as clear as the water in front of you.

It was finally broken when Chris spoke up again.

"You got me drunk so you could drown me in a lake?"

You burst into another fit of laughter. "First of all," you said in between giggles, "if anyone got anyone drunk it's you convincing me to drun- drink."

It was his turn to laugh at your mix-up. "Shut up," you said, slapping his arm lightly. "Now c'mon. You have the ring, right?"

"Yep," he said, fishing it out of his pocket. "But why did you want me to bring it?"

"Well, the fact I'm not gonna drown you in the lake doesn't mean we're not drowning anything."

"My ex-fiancée?" his mouth dropped open into an o shape.

"No!" you facepalmed. "The ring. You're gonna throw the ring in the river!"

"I am?"

"God, I'm starting to think I got you too drunk," you rolled your eyes. "Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna think about your relationship. You're gonna reminisce about everything, good and bad, and you're gonna put it in this ring. In your head, of course," you added before he could chime in.

"So I can let go," he nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," you smiled. "We don't need romance. Fuck romance. Fuck forever. You're better than that!"

"Amen!" he said, toasting an invisible glass in the air, making you laugh once more. It was probably the alcohol, but you hadn't laughed like this in a while. It was fun to laugh loudly, freeing. You wondered why you didn't do it more often.

"Alright!" you clapped your hands once, shaking from your thoughts. "Let's get this show on the road!"

You both stepped closer to the lake, and then Chris held out his hand in front of him, his palm open with the ring on it. He stared at it intently for a few moments, then his gaze snapped up to meet yours and he nodded shortly. You didn't speak, you just reached out and closed his fingers around the ring, before stepping aside and gesturing for him to go ahead. He stared at his fist for another moment before taking a swing and throwing the ring as far as he could. You held your breath until you heard the sound of the ring hitting the water, which made you release a breath full of awe.

"You did it," you said softly.

"I did it," he slowly repeated. "I did it!" he yelled out and you laughed in surprise. "I did it!" he yelled again, and in a few short strides he was next to you, picking you up and spinning you around in celebration.

"Put me down!" you shouted at him between fits of laughter, "Lunatic!"

He put you down, grinning widely. "I can't believe I just threw that ring into the lake. That was so stupid."

"It kinda was," you laughed, breathless.

"It was your idea!"

"I know! It's still stupid," you kept laughing, nearly doubling over. "Felt good though, didn’t it?"

"It really did," he let out a bewildered laugh. "Fuck. It really did," he said, and started laughing, which made you start laughing again, and before you knew it you were both laying on the grass, laughing until your cheeks hurt.

"My cheeks hurt," you pouted.

"Awww, I'm sorry," he drawled, reaching out to pinch your cheek, making you swat his hand away, glaring at him. He just giggled again, laying on his back and looking up to the sky.

You laid back as well, staring up.

"I wish I knew something about the stars," he said out of the blue.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Oh, just anything. I don't know jack shit about 'em."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that's Orion's Belt," you said, pointing up to a group of three stars. "So now you know that about the stars."

He said your name, making you turn your head to look at him. "You're a good friend," he smiled.

"You're a good friend too," you smiled back at him.

"No, I'm not. All I ever do is moan about my stupid ex."

"I'm sure she wasn't stupid," you reasoned.

"She was! She was stupid with two o's," he mumbled in disdain. You giggled at his words. "I'm not hung up on her," he continued. "I'm just… disillusioned. I thought she was the one. And now that she's gone… I don't know if there's gonna be a one. Which is sad. So I've been sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I was sad too when I started thinking that," you whispered, sobering up a little. "But we don’t need 'a one', Chris. Romance is dead, but life goes on. We're on our own, but that doesn't mean we can't make the best of it."

"I spent so much of my life looking forward to spending the rest of my life with someone. And now that I realize that might not be the case… I guess I just realized that this is it. The rest of my life. I needed to throw that ring to make peace with that."

"Glad I could help," you gave him a half-smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze.

"Yeah," he returned a squeeze of his own, "me too."

"C'mon," you said, leaving his hand and getting up, before helping him to his feet as well. "We should get going."

You stumbled your way home, leaning on each other for some parts of the way. Sleepy and still a little buzzed, you finally got to his house, and he led you to the guest bedroom.

"Goodnight," he said, smiling.

"Goodnight," you whispered back, before he turned and walked up the stairs. You listened to him climb, and heard the sound of another set of footsteps, soft cooing coming from upstairs, and then heard the sound of a door closing.

Dodger, you thought with a smile, before closing your own door and plopping down on the bed.

In the last minutes of your wakefulness, you thought about how lucky dogs were.

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

"So, are you dating him?"

"No!" you said indignantly, "have you listened to a single word I said?"

"Oh, so you're just not putting a label on it? you're a little too old for those games if you ask me, but suit yourself," your friend shrugged.

"Come on! He's just a friend," you huffed.

"If that's what you wanna tell yourself," she smirked, but then her look became more sincere. "Look, I know you. I know that every time we talk about him, you're happy. Why can't you admit that you like him?"

"I do like him, as a person! I like all of my friends!"

"You're impossible," she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile.

"You're impossible," you retorted weakly before smiling at her.

"You know we all just want you to be happy, right? That's all we want."

"I know," you said softly, "and I appreciate it. I really do. But I am happy, on my own."

"If that's the case, then I'm happy for you," she sighed. "I don't want you to feel like a third wheel, especially with Sarah's wedding coming up. You're the last of us who hasn't tied the knot yet."

"I'll be fine at Sarah's wedding," you rolled your eyes.

"I know, I know," she raised her hands in surrender, "But I'm just saying, I know you're anti-romance, but I also know you're not anti-company. Maybe you should bring Chris. As your friend, if you insist" she added when she saw you open your mouth to object. "Just, you know, everyone's coming with someone, and I don't want you to sit alone."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I do, but seriously, I think you're underestimating my social skills. You do realize I can talk to people I don't know, right?"

"I know," she huffed. "Just… consider it, okay? For me?"

"I'll think about it, I guess," you shrugged.

You had no intention of following through on that. Except, well, it did come up when you were talking to Chris.

"What are you doing Friday?" he asked, his voice mechanical through the phone. "I thought we could finally see that movie you're always talking about."

"Nope, can't do Friday," you said, the phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear as you were folding your laundry.

"Aw, that's a shame. I was really looking forward to you finally shutting up about it," he teased, making you chuckle. "What're you doing Friday then?"

"First of all, if you'd listen to me and see it, you wouldn't wanna shut up about it either, because it's awesome. Second, I'm going to a friend's wedding. I'm gonna sit aside, drink some wine, and make fun of all the drunk couples."

"Sounds like a real fun night," he teased.

"Yeah," you said sarcastically. "I am really happy for her though. I know she wanted it for a long time," you said, sincere now.

"Hey, um, if you want, maybe I could come laugh at drunk couples with you? So you'll have some company," he offered.

"Oh, you don't have to," you dismissed it, "I know it sounds like a bummer, but really, I'll be fine."

"No, really. No one should have to sit alone at weddings," he said.

"Another friend of mine told me that as well."

"Well then, this friend of yours is smart. Believe me, as a veteran of many sit-alone weddings myself, I can confirm it's indeed a huge bummer."

"Fine," you chuckled, "I guess if you want to come so badly you may," you said, making him laugh.

"Great, text me the details?"

"Yep," you smiled. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure, bye!"

You hung up the phone to get up and start putting all your clothes into the closet. After you were done with that, you sent Sarah a text to let her know you will be bringing a plus one at the end, asking her if that'd be okay.

Is it Chris????

Yeah

Then it's fine!! :)))

You chuckled to yourself and kept putting away your clothes.

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

The night of the wedding, as a close friend of the bride's, you arrived at the venue a couple of hours beforehand, along with all of your friends. Chris came some time after guests started to arrive, and it didn't take you long to spot him in the crowds, looking a bit lost. You excused yourself quickly from the conversation you were in with some of the groom's friends and went to greet him.

"Hey!" you waved as you walked towards him, "Chris!"

Grinning when he saw you, he also began moving towards you, until you finally met in the middle.

"I'm glad you could make it," you smiled.

"I am too," he said, "seems like a nice wedding."

"Yeah. C'mon, you're just in time. They're gonna start the ceremony soon," you explained as you grabbed his arm and started leading him towards your seats.

"Oh-kay," he chuckled as you dragged him forward with surprising determination.

As you took your seats, you waved at your friends, and they freaked out over Chris being there, but you paid no mind to them, as Chris was leaning towards you, whispering, "You know, for someone who doesn't seem to enjoy romance, you sure do seem excited about this wedding."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah. I've learned that me and my friends have a different outlook on that, and that's fine, it's useless to argue about it or whatever. I'm just happy she's gonna have what she wanted, even if I don't really believe in it."

"So how does that work? If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?"

"Chris, if one of my friends told me they found a way to adopt a unicorn, I'd be happy for them, no questions asked. Everyone should do what they feel like," you shrugged. "Now shhhh, they should be starting every minute now."

The ceremony was a beautiful one, and Sarah looked gorgeous in her white dress. As she walked down the aisle with a beaming smile, Chris' words echoed in your mind.

If you don't think romance is real and bring joy then how come you're happy your friend has it?

Despite your quick answer, you didn’t really know. The short answer was the one you told Chris, but the long one…

For the longest time, you believed romance just wasn't durable. Wasn't real. But maybe you just didn't believe that you can have that kind of romance? You just never really had someone to challenge your perception like that, because no one ever took it seriously, they just told you you'd find your person.

But that wasn't something you wanted to think about now, so you filled it away for later.

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

You and Chris were a little far out from the dancing crowd, somewhere a little quieter, but you could still see the dance floor from the bench you had found.

"Yeah, it was," you agreed with him.

"Not beautiful enough to make you cry, I guess?" he teased.

"Ha ha. I don't cry at weddings."

"I could've guessed that," he chuckled. "So what do you usually do at weddings? I mean, all your friends are married, so I'm assuming you've been to quite a few."

"What I'm doing right now. Sitting aside and drinking," you raised your glass in mock salute before taking a generous sip.

"Solid plan," he nodded slightly. "So you've never like, danced at weddings or anything?"

"No," you frowned, shaking your head slightly, "Why would I? I'm not a dancer, really.

"Well, how 'bout we go and change that?"

"Excuse me now?"

"I'm just saying, if you're really happy for your friend, maybe you should show her that. Enjoy yourself."

"I am enjoying myself," you deadpanned.

"Do what people are meant to do at weddings," he rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were here to silently judge everyone with me. Don't make me regret inviting you," you jokingly waved your finger at him as if you were telling him off.

"That's still the plan. We could just probably still do that on the dance floor," he shrugged. "Your call."

There was a short-lived silence before you sighed. "Fine. One dance," you warned.

Getting up, he offered his arm to you, which you took, and you made your way o the dance floor. You started dancing to the end of the upbeat song that was playing, but just then it changed into something a little slower, and people were pairing up.

"This is the money time," Chris winked, and offered you his hand. You took it, almost instinctively, and you started dancing to the song, his other hand on your waist while yours was on his shoulder.

"What do you mean money time?" you whispered.

"Okay. We're gonna turn around, and you're gonna look at the couple that's gonna be behind me," he said, turning the both of you around casually as you danced.

"Oh my god," you suppressed your laughter. "That's… I don't even know what to say. Are they even a couple or is he her da- oh nope, he just kissed her on the lips. God," you grimaced as Chris laughed at your expression. "I at least hope he's rich for her sake."

You both chuckled, and it was only a couple of moments later that you gasped with a smile. "Don't be obvious cause they're pretty close, but look at the couple to my right."

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Remind me not to go to any secluded corner of this wedding. These two are probably this close to running off to do things I definitely wouldn't wanna see."

"Right?" you said, amused, "They're practically eye fucking. Have some decency!"

You both laughed again, and then Chris nodded his head subtly in another direction. "Look at those two."

They were a couple that wasn't dancing, they were sitting at a table close to the dancefloor, their foreheads touching, seemingly murmuring to each other.

"Betcha they're the kind of couple who does the whole 'no you hang up!' thing," Chris continued with an amused grin.

"Oh they so are!" you burst into laughter. "They probably share a single spaghetti from both ends."

"Lady and the Tramp style," you both said at the same time, prompting you to tear your eyes from the couple and look at each other, giggling.

You continued dancing through the next song, and the next one, and the one after that. For pretty much the rest of the night, you two danced together, continuing to invent silly stories about the people you saw, laughing at each other's cheesy anecdotes.

When it was getting late and the party was winding down, Chris offered you a ride home, since he hasn't drunk, and you gratefully accepted. You came here with your friends, and they were all probably staying longer, but you were getting a little sleepy, so you decided to call it a night.

"Let's just go say goodbye to Sarah," you said and he nodded, letting you lead the way.

"Hey, I'm getting pretty tired, so we're gonna leave. Congratulations," you smiled once you had gotten to the table the happy couple was sitting at. As Chris was shaking the husband's hand, you had bent down to wrap your arms around Sarah in a tight hug.

"So you admit you're a 'we' now? You and Chris?" she teased, whispering in your ear.

"We're not," you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever you say," she smiled knowingly. "Thank you for coming," she said louder once you let go of her.

"It was a pleasure, congratulations," Chris smiled at the both of them, and you all gave your goodbyes.

On the way back, you were already lulling into sleep in the passenger's seat, and Chris smiled to himself.

"Chris," you mumbled from your half-asleep state.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me today. You're right. Dancing with you is better than sitting alone."

"Wow, what a compliment," he drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah, don't let it get to your head buddy," you chuckled, before shifting around in your seat so your head was leaning on the window. "Can you wake me up when we get there?"

"Sure," he smiled, "Sweet dreams."

"Thanks," you yawned.

When you got to your house, Chris gently nudged your shoulder a few times to wake you up. You woke up, confused for a second, but quickly regained your composure and thanked him for the ride.

You went into the house, barely changing out of your dress before plopping down on the bed.

It was kind of weird, honestly. Usually, no matter how tired you were, you wouldn't manage to fall asleep in a car, or a plane. Even a bed that wasn't yours was sometimes harder to sleep in.

But you were in your own bed now, so you didn't have a lot of time to mull that over before you sunk into a deep sleep.

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

"Hey," Chris greeted over the phone one Monday.

"Hi! How's it going?" you smiled.

"Fine. I mean, actually, do you wanna come over?"

"Right now?" you frowned.

"I mean, why not? Have the Monday chat in person."

"Um, sure. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit," you said. Hanging up, you didn't think too much of his invitation. He sounded fine, and he said he was. He was probably just being nice.

Soon enough you were knocking at his front door. It opened to reveal a very excited Dodger pouncing on you, and you giggled as you crouched down to pet him. "Yeah, hi Dodger! How's the cutest boy doing?"

"Ouch," Chris joked from the doorstep.

"Hello to you too, I guess," you said dryly, but with a grin on your face.

You all went inside, and Dodger went straight to his bed, curling up. "Your knock woke him up," Chris explained, smiling at the sight.

"Oh, sorry," you gave him a small smile.

"It's fine. As you can see, he has no problem going right back to sleep," he chuckled.

"Yeah," you giggled. "Is everything okay? I mean, is there a reason you wanted me to come except to enjoy my magnificent presence?" you teased.

"Well, that was mostly it," he laughed, "but actually, I did want to talk to you about something. Wanna go outside?"

"Um, sure," you said, frowning slightly before forcing yourself to smile again.

You stepped outside into his garden, sitting in the big lawn chairs.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you asked, turning your head to look at him.

"That's Orion's Belt, right?" he evaded, pointing at a group of stars in the night sky.

"I'm pretty sure it is," you shrugged.

For a moment, you were both quiet.

"I've changed my mind," Chris started. "This isn't the rest of my life. It's just my life."

"Okay," you said, not getting where he was going with this.

"You know, all these cheesy couples we made fun of at Sarah's wedding? I think they have it right."

"How come?"

"They realized that romance isn't about forever. It's about right here, right now. It’s in the little things. I've been so opposed to romance lately, and I was constantly thinking about how I wouldn't have a forever, so much so that I forgot what's going on now."

"And what's that?" you asked softly.

"Something much simpler than that. Happiness."

You stared at each other in silence, a slight frown still on your face.

"You make me happy," Chris admitted in a soft voice. "You make me really happy. And I don't want to lose your friendship, but I have to ask you this, because otherwise I don't think I'd forgive myself. Do you really not believe in romance? At all?"

"I don't know," you whispered. Clearing your throat, you continued a bit louder. "I don't believe in everyone's version of it. The happily ever after, forever. I don't need anyone to complete me either."

"There's always a middle road. Maybe not everyone has someone, and we don’t need romance, but that doesn't mean we're not allowed to want it. We shouldn't have to sit alone at weddings," he said sincerely. After a breath, he continued. "I'm not asking you for forever. I don't want to. But I want to ask you for now. And I don't think I'd complete you, just like you don't complete me. But you do make my life a whole lot better."

"Chris, you know I'm not looking for anything, I told you that when we met," you said weakly.

"I know. I also wasn't looking for anything. And yet I found… something. And I'd be a coward not to pursue it. We can make our own kind of romance; not a happily ever after, but a happy here and now. No big cheesy gestures, or unreasonable promises, just… being together. And that means I can't promise you it'll work, that it'll be perfect. Hell, it'll probably be messy, and hard, and mundane, at times, but that's how life is. But I can promise I'll try. And even if it doesn't work out, I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life."

You thought back to every romantic relationship you've had. Every date you've been on. A lot of them were disappointing, but some of them were good.

None of them made you as happy as being with Chris did. Not one of your actual dates managed to top just hanging out with Chris. You didn't know why, but you felt safe with him, like you can be entirely yourself. You felt happy.

You didn't want to risk that. You didn't want to lose that. But what if taking this one risk would make it all that much better? You thought back to all of your friends, how happy they were with their significant other, how in love. What if putting your heart out on the line, for the first time in a long while, would make you happier than you had ever imagined?

Of course, it could also make you devastated. It could crush you. But that's the risk, isn't it?

There isn't any other person you'd rather take that leap with, you realized. In the few months you knew Chris, he already managed to become one of your favorite people in the entire world. You trusted him, cared about him, more than you'd let yourself realize up until now. And like he said, not exploring that would make you a coward. And you're not.

You took a deep breath. Chris gave you the time you needed, simply looking at you softly.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while. I might be rusty," you chuckled finally.

"I'm willing to take those odds," he smiled. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, a grin slowly making its way onto your face. "If there's anyone I would do this with, it's you," you admitted softly.

He grinned, getting up from his chair and extending his hand out to you, and you accepted. Gently, he pulled you up on your feet, using his momentum to bring you to stand closer to him and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Slowly, you two inched closer, until, finally, his lips were on yours.

There weren't fireworks, or butterflies. There was just this moment, right here, right now. No doubts, or hesitations, it was peaceful. It felt right.

This moment was all you could ever ask for. All you'd ever need.

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

"You look so beautiful in the mornings," Chris murmured, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"You too. Happy birthday," You whispered back, weaving your fingers into the hairs on the nape of his neck. He hummed in response, and you giggled, feeling it tickling your neck.

You laid there for a while more, just basking in each other's company. But when you looked at the clock, you started nudging Chris away from you. "We should get up," you said softly, "We have a party to prepare for."

"The party's not until the evening," he whined, "Stay in bed," he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him.

You ended up leaving the bed at noon, eating a big lunch before tidying up for the party. A few minutes later, you slipped away, to set up your surprise.

"Hey Chris?" you called from the other room, "Can you just come over here for a second?"

"Coming!"

He entered to find you and Dodger in matching little party hats, and you were holding one out for him too.

"Wow!" he burst into laughter, putting the party hat on his head. "What's all this for?"

"I thought we should celebrate a little before the guests arrive," you shrugged. "And, you know, Dodger looks so cute in that little hat."

"He does," Chris cooed. "How did you manage to put it on him? He would never let me put anything."

"Well, he just likes me more," you smirked. Chris scoffed amusedly. "Okay fine," you rolled your eyes, "I may have bribed him with a treat."

Dodger's ears perked up at the word and you both laughed at the suddenly interested dog.

"I shouldn't have said that," you giggled.

"Probably," he agreed. "Thank you," you put his arm on the small of your back, nudging you closer to his side.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," you smiled, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He cupped your cheek in his hand, deepening the kiss, but before it could get any further Dodger was barking and putting his front paws on the both of you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get jealous. We love you too," you and Chris laughed, petting his head affectionately.

Honestly that day was a perfectly normal day for you and Chris. Being in love for the two of you didn't mean big highs and lows. You had your moments, but most of the time, it was just this peaceful bliss.

Later that night, the party was already in full swing. You and Chris separated from each other at some point, but you were making the rounds, so you knew sooner or later you'd meet up again.

In the small crowd, it was easy to spot your friends, sitting with the same group they did last year. You smiled to yourself, going up and greeting everyone warmly.

"How's everyone doing?" you asked, sitting down for a moment.

There was a chorus of "fine"s and "good"s before the conversation continued. You joined in, talking to your friends and catching up with the other group.

"Hey," Chris' voice was suddenly next to you. He came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind, talking softly next to your ear. "I'm gonna get myself another beer. You want anything as well?"

"Um, yeah. Can you bring me one too?"

"Sure," he smiled.

You tilted your head so you could reach and kiss his cheek, "Thanks."

As he walked away, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group, only to find them all looking at you with knowing grins.

"I thought you didn't do romance," said the woman you had spoken to last year, a teasing smile on her face.

"I didn't. I guess I changed my mind," you smiled softly, watching Chris’ back as he dissappeared into the kitchen.

Maybe romance wasn’t so bad after all.

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

did you catch the three references? tell me:)) i hope you like it, and if you stuck through this entire story, thank you so so much for reading!! as always, i’d love to hear your thoughts, and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself<3 happy chris day!!

special shoutout for @animnerd who gave me some motivation when i needed it<3

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash @imvivian

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#chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #happy birthday chris evans

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