1st term of formal classics study done!

I’m genuinely so happy, I feel like I’ve found my people

I still drink more than I should, I’m anxious a lot, and some days getting out of bed is a struggle, but everything feels a bit less dark

I know I made the right decision, even if nobody (except the wonderful Natalie Haynes, who I met, and nearly cried in front of a few days ago) agrees

Please do what you want. You’re probably not due to die for ages yet. Do what makes you happy. Everything will work itself out. I love you all

IN LUST WE TRUST (pt. one)

･ﾟ★ . this is some visionary shit. been tryna film pleasure with my eyes wide shut, but it keeps on moving

summary: they don’t know one thing about each other, but they do know that they want each other. bad. little do they know, they are at the mercy of an influx of hormones caused by a radioactive spider.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x f!silk reader

word count: 9.7k

warnings: explicit content. minors dni (+18) mentions of weed and anxiety. partaking in alcohol. copious amount of sexual pining (maybe too much oops xx). taking peter’s virginity. unprotected public sex w/ a stranger. not sex pollen but basically.

curated vibes: novacane. pyramid. stargirl interlude. 

masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 read on ao3 𓆩♡𓆪  kofi 𓆩♡𓆪 series mlist

HAVE MERCY

Peter wanted his first time to be with a girl he loved. Special like first times are supposed to be.

He didn’t know what had come over him, but he couldn’t stop himself. Before he knew it, she was bruising his neck and all he could do was crumble into her. Inhale her intoxicating scent and bury his face into her chest. Give her the same marks she gave him…

 It felt almost inevitable, somewhat of a mysterious plan orchestrated by the stars. It was like two meteorites colliding, something you can’t see until it’s too late. A lust-filled collision leaving no casualties. At least that was the only sensible way to explain how he could fuck someone he just met. 

Though to his credit, this was the second time he ran into her. Unfortunately, it still didn’t excuse the fact that she was still a stranger.

It must’ve been the universe throwing him a bone— this fate led entanglement. Not the burning tingle in his hands, nor the sensory overload throwing Peter into a haziness that he was going to regret later. He desperately needed to think that he was a victim in all of this to live with himself.

All he wanted was some weed. How was he supposed to know he was going to lose his virginity in the bathroom of a hole-in-the-wall bar?

It started three days ago. The encounter wasn’t supposed to be as unnerving as it was, but the way his mouth got dry being in the same vicinity as her was enough to make him feel weird. If he was being completely honest, he felt like a creep taking advantage of the situation.

Taking the subway was a rare circumstance that Peter had ditched years ago, finding it way faster and more convenient to use his spider abilities. But the night before, Peter had been slaving away to finish his biochem lab and was too tired to put on the suit and use every strain of muscle in him to swing across the city for class. The last time he was sleep deprived and navigating his way through the skyscrapers, he knocked into a billboard like a mosquito on the freeway. So it was easier to walk to the relatively close subway and sit his exhausted ass on the bench until he reached his stop.

But God, was he out of touch with reality. Everyone had come off of work, the afternoon brimming with traffic. Rather than slouching on a seat, he held onto the silvery pole amongst the other hands and tried to take up the least space possible. There was an elbow jammed into his back and a foot on his Converses. The swarm of released students and dull businessmen and grandma’s on a grocery trip had been all too much. The humidity that came from the crowd was quick to reach Peter. He was already uncomfortable and regretting his poor choice.

And then, something he can only describe as his spider senses revved up his already overstimulated mind. Vacuously, his nose twitched. The air around him abruptly became heavy and light all at the same time. The atmosphere claustrophobically nauseating and sticky.

At first, it was dizzying in all the right ways. A soothing kiss on his skin. He began to sigh, his cluster fuck of a brain easing up on him. It was like he was holding his breath and he could finally release it. A sizable weight released off of his shoulders. And then he inhaled— a terrible mistake.

It was like the humidity dissipated within moments until the kiss turned into teeth sinking in his flesh. It bit down hard, canines and all. Utterly piercing. Every particle in him was burning like the air was exchanged for cyanide. 

God, was it incredibly hot. Scalding, really. It took everything in him to not fall to his knees. To not rip off his shirt like a savage caveman searching for the cool air to storm his bare chest. 

All he could think was that he must have been having a panic attack, and somehow, he was supposed to act like he wasn’t feeling everything all at once.

I’m fucking dying. What’s happening to me? Ican’tfuckingbreath.

There was nothing but his heartbeat striking at his eardrums and sweat drenching his skin. It felt like the day he got bit. A pain that felt infinite, tormenting him.

And then everything went silent. The suffocating air was bearable. The iron prick on his skin was less than molten. He came to his awareness, realizing for a nanosecond that there had been a small hand wrapped around his hand instead of the pole. It was the most relief he had felt in what seemed like hours. He didn’t know how she got here, but he was thankful for the slice of grounding she gave him.

“I’m sorry,” her shaky, yet dulcet voice apologized.

“I- um. It’s okay,” he rasped out. 

Her body occupied the space in front of him, her aroma perforating the air around him. The mixture of cinnamon tea and muted roses and an intoxicating other thing made his head spin. She was a breath of roses soaked in spices, a temporary balm to his lungs. 

The whirl of chaos that ensued made his sight obscured by tunnel vision. Somehow it was a small blessing that past the havoc and anxiety, he was able to drink her in. 

She might’ve been the prettiest thing he had seen since MJ.

Her glossy lips and dilated pupils that screamed yearning was stirring his chest into an explosive device, just waiting to detonate. He wanted to look at her until there was nothing to look at anymore. Till there was nothing more to memorize.

It was beginning to feel something close to love at first sight until his cock twitched.

Peter immediately felt a great sense of mortification. He was ashamed. He adjusted his hand on the pole, attempting to make the slightest of room for her to grab so that she didn’t have to touch a creep. But when she removed her hand from his, he could feel the poison leaking into the air again. He was without her and it was painful.

Her hand clasped onto the pole right below Peter’s, the end of his fist slightly rubbing against her thumb and index finger. Her touch was feather light and he quickly regretted making space for her. His twisted mind wanted to take up as much possible space so that she had no choice but to drape over him. 

Peter was biting the bottom of his lip, a scream of agony swelling in his throat. He was in pain and he wanted her to fix it, though he didn’t know exactly how a stranger could fix this sudden fever.

As if the world could see through Peter, the train came to an abrupt stop causing a slight commotion in the train. There were slight murmurs and shifting of the feet. The displeased groans and the rough noise of metal scrapping and squeaking. But Peter could hardly pay attention to his surroundings. It was all white noise compared to the soft oh that left her velvet lips. On the other hand, fuck was on the precipice of his tongue, the profanity almost being forced out by the sudden contact with her. Her weak grasp on the pole had transcended her stance, causing her to fall into Peter.

Regardless of his discombobulated state, Peter’s spider senses had granted him a hasty reaction. His hand had found her waist in one fast motion as if her body was a sixth sense of his. The understanding of her space and being was a secret language that he was never aware of till now, and he had mastered it in minutes. Maybe it was his heightened sense from the spider bite, but her breath was strained and her heart was in tandem with Peter’s- their pulses far too fast for him to even count. He felt like they were one and the same at that moment. They were two people in an anxious state (if he could call it that) in the same place, at the same time. 

She gasped as her back became flush with Peter’s chest. “Sorry… Again” 

She could have taken it as him helping her regain her balance or to keep her from invading his personal space further, but really he was trying to steer her away from his member. 

“No, I’m sorry.” He said, removing his hand from her. “Didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

Didn’t mean to pop a tent in public is what he really wanted to say. Yes, he didn’t mean to grab her, but he wasn’t actually sorry. He felt no remorse when she felt like that. 

She shook her head, roses further perfuming Peter’s air. 

“It’s not our fault…” She muttered. 

She adjusted herself, attempting to give Peter distance, but failed as the train was at full capacity. He could feel her try to shrink, to remove her ass from his thigh, but she had nowhere else to go. He wanted to repossess her waist and tell her it’s okay. His hand was close to pulling her back in until she was sinking into him completely.

He felt a flurry of emotions, this strange sense of need clawing at his chest for her. His instincts blurred his sensibility and logic. His thoughts weren’t in his possession. They were intrusive and deafening and out of his reach.

He took one sharp inhale to get air, an attempt to be submerged in her field of roses, and the hairs on his neck stood up. He could smell her cunt from this distance and if Peter wasn’t mistaken, she was just as aroused as he was. This felt so sinful to Peter.

Close proximity wasn’t enough. He needed to be in her. 

No. That was wrong. So fucking wrong. He just met her. No, that wasn’t right either. He didn’t meet her. They were just two passengers on a commute home that had no personal interaction. It was just accidents transpiring. An accident to run into her. A mistake to touch her. All a misfortune to his psyche.

But when he looked at her lips, he could swear he could almost taste it. He imagined her cherry-flavored lips adorning his neck, smearing mahogany along his body till he was red all over. Till her lips were wrapped around his…

No, this was so wrong.

And yet she felt so good against him. 

His mind was overflowing with obscenities like water breaking through a dam, something completely out of his control.

She wanted this just as much as he does. How could he explain the arousal dripping between her thighs? If only he could just get closer…

Peter’s head started to hang low. His control was slipping. He felt drunk, acting off of impulse. It was a losing battle of tug-of-war with a horny, roid-raging demi-god cracked out of his goddamn mind at one end and innocent Peter at the other.

His lips felt a magnetic force drawing him to her, the innate desire to drag them along her body consuming him whole. 

Perhaps, she could feel it too, because her gaze had shifted from her feet to Peter, her doe eyes interlocking with his gawking stare. He was drawn to the flutter of her eyelashes and the curious twinkle in her iris. Her pretty little eyes were just tainting his weak mind.

She felt so far away even like this. Inches away and it still wasn’t enough for him. In Peter's mind, her stare was calling out to him like a siren. It’s okay. Touch me. Feel me, she conveyed with her innocent blinks.

There’s something wrong with me, he finalized. 

As she took a hold of his stare, she licked her lips.

It’s the taunting maneuver of the tongue that makes him want to submit to all of the obscene thoughts, but her innocent words that came next shackle him down.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her concern clear on her face.

No, I’m not okay. My heart is going hundreds of miles per minute and I want to fuck you.

God, was this all just so wrong and he knew it.

Beneath his feet, he could feel the brakes rumble beneath the train and prepared to make a break for it before he did something to this innocent woman. He had to force himself out, taking the next stop even if it wasn’t his to take. 

“This is my stop,” he blurted out.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes penetrating through him. 

As her touch detached itself from him, he could feel the ache prickle back up. Fuck.

His focus was collapsing, turning his eyesight into complete mush. His vision blurred just trying to take her in one last time. All of his senses were bursting at the seams and finally gave up, it appeared. It felt like he was malfunctioning. Breaking.

“See ya,” he said absentmindedly, blinking back the fog in a poor attempt to will his vision back to him.

He doesn’t know how he managed to get out, but he does. Instead of her perfume, there’s New York’s signature scent of sewer and trash invading his senses. He can finally breathe, but it doesn’t feel like it as his hands shake and sweat trickles down his face.

There’s a sense of heartbreak when he walks away and he doesn’t know why he yearns for this girl he has no name for. But with the very little control he has, he uses it to propel his feet forward, one after another and didn’t bare to look back. He didn’t know what he would do if he looked back and saw those glassy eyes of hers.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

After power walking through the city for twenty minutes, he finally reached his dingy apartment. He was profusely sweating and it wasn’t from the trek.

In his own confinement, he immediately wrapped his hand around his aching bulge and tried to find relief, but even after cumming he was left with a guilty conscious and a stubborn hard-on. The worst part was that it didn’t end there.

For the past few days, his intrusive thoughts made him agoraphobic. He didn’t think it was possible for his cock to be the reason for him becoming a complete shut-in, but he also didn’t think it was possible to gain superhero abilities from a spider bite. An ugly rash, maybe, but super strength? Somehow the world kept him on his toes, though unwillingly.

He skipped out on patrol and started using the drop-off option for groceries while he locked himself up in his apartment like a feral animal. It wasn’t right to walk around the city with a raging boner and he wasn’t going to have his mugshot on the Daily Bugle captioned New York’s Newest Perv. He went two full days without leaving, but by Thursday his life as a student had caught up to him. The semester had just started and biochem wasn’t something he could skip out on. Not unless he wanted to go from a hard-earned A to a disappointing B.

During the lecture, he tried really hard to pay attention, but her succulent lips haunted him. 

He was entertaining his dream from last night, a salacious fantasy that kept replaying in his mind. His hands were tied up against the headboard, leaving him completely helpless. No matter how much he pleaded her to stop, she continued to approach him. He shut his eyes until he felt her tongue lap up his precum. By the time he opened them back up, she was bobbing her head up and down on his poor cock for what seemed like hours. When he woke up he was left with cum stained boxers and a pounding heart.

Just imagining it made him hard.

Luckily, his uniform for the time being was an oversized hoodie and sweatpants to hide his looming member. He was past feeling guilty towards the public. If anything this was a medical incident that he couldn’t stop if he tried. His guilt was saved for her.

He attempted to focus on what the professor was saying, but a conversation behind him took the forefront of his hearing. A feminine voice attempted to be discreet, but whispers never got past Peter.

“How much for a couple of ounces?” 

“Jesus, who told you I sell?” Peter recognized the other voice as CJ, someone he had previous classes with, but never talked to.

“Who cares? I got the money,” she said.

CJ scoffed at her pompous remark. “What are you, a narc?” 

“I have a party on Saturday and I promised weed galore.” 

Overhearing the conversation about weed gave him a bright idea that nearly knocked the perma-boner right off of him. Not only was Peter a virgin, but he was also substance free. In spite of that, the prospect of weed sounded exceptional when the excruciating blue balls that he had dealt with for the last seventy-two hours were still going strong.

After class, he shamelessly went up to CJ.

“I heard that you have stuff?” Peter whispered.

“Fuck, you heard that?” CJ laughed.

“Sorry, she was kind of loud,” Peter said modestly. “Can I buy from you?”

“I didn’t know you liked stuff, Peter.”

It was a quick interaction, but it was efficient. They exchanged contacts and scheduled their meet-up for later tonight, being that Peter couldn’t succumb to his cock any longer.

It felt like forever as Peter sank into his bed, waiting for the time to pass by.

Was it possible to crave another person? Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of her. Every time he slept, he dreamt of her. It was a painstaking burden for Peter to have. She changed his whole brain chemistry, igniting this visceral need within him. It was like his body just had to have her. 

He hoped that whatever CJ provided would take his troubles away.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

“Trying to black out?” The bartender had asked when she requested a long island iced tea.

She shook her head as she handed him the cash she was supposed to use for dinner. She almost didn’t give him the tip after his comment, but her pent-up aggression was out on the world for making her sexually frustrated, not him. Maybe she was trying to black out with the most notorious drink on the menu! Or it was more like she didn’t know what else to order, being that this wasn’t her scene and completely out of her comfort zone.

She sat in the far corner of the space, nursing her potent drink and observing the crowd. Normally people watching was something that she enjoyed and did with ease, but she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with her. She stopped feeling like herself. She felt mentally out of balance like her consciousness was slipping past her fingers like granules of sand and the fact that she was here was all the verification she needed.

She had never gone to places like this. Bars, clubs, parties. Ever since the whole spider thing, that crowd overstimulated her out of her mind. Hurt too much. Sometimes she even imagined getting out of New York to somewhere quieter.

But there was something pulling her into Pyramid, a flashy bar at first glance, but through the window, she was able to see the lack of young adults. Perhaps, it was that eerie name that made people her age steer clear because it made her want to steer clear from the illuminati-esque name. Yet the irresistible feeling to step in there was present and it wasn’t exactly due to the sign glowing in red that said, GIRLS DRINK FREE ON THU. It flashed brightly, temporarily staining her lids. It didn’t matter what was on the sign. It could have said, SENIORS BINGO NIGHT or ORGY IN PROCESS and she would’ve entered. All that she cared about was that it was an interruption to her sex-crazed mental state, the ruby neon blinding the memory of his large hands on her waist. And for that, they deserved her “service.”

Maybe she did need a drink after the past couple of days. She felt like a puppy in heat. Her skin felt itchy and in the middle of the night, her hand would teleport to the inside of her underwear. She was obsessing over some boy on the train so intensely that it transcended her consciousness, him making a feature in her tantalizing dreams. 

Thinking about the train situation made a chill run up her spine. Just the thought of the throbbing ache from that day brought physical discomfort. 

It was the first time she had left her apartment in days, the overwhelming sense of anxiety and arousal weighing heavy on her chest, and she was spending it at a bar. Initially, she was on a mission to pick up tteokbokki from a neighboring restaurant after realizing she couldn’t DoorDash for a third time today but got distracted by the flashing lights that promised free drinks. She was truly desperate to feel anything other than dread.

Luckily, the atmosphere wasn’t as eerie as its name, but it did feel like she was a part of a secret club with the older crowd fanned out along the tables. It was like only a small set of people in New York knew about this place and that brought it some validity. It was special and it was here, whether she came or not. 

She gulped a couple of ounces down, before placing her cheek in her palm and let her anxiety-ridden knee run free. She felt the alcohol simmer in her body along with the thoughts of the boy on the train that circulated in her mind for the hundredth time today.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

“Jesus man, you really haven’t gotten any sleep, huh?”

Peter knew he looked bad, but he didn’t think he looked that bad. He was hoping he had that sexy Pete Davidson exhaustion rather than whatever he looked like now, but he was sure Pete Davidson wasn’t governed by his dick like he was.

“Basically,” Peter said before handing CJ the cash. 

The September air was a punch in the stomach, promising a harsh winter in a few months. The back alley where they were doing the exchange was in the perfect position to allow the brisk wind to come and go as it pleased. Peter was glad that the weather had turned from a blistering humidity to a nippy chill, making his thick apparel more than appropriate. Before leaving his apartment, all he could think of was that he should have worn a trench coat to tie the whole sleaze-bag aesthetic together.

“Wanna come in? I can make you a drink, my treat,” CJ smiled warmly, throwing a thumb back to the door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY.

“Ahh you don’t have to do that, I already got everything I wanted,” Peter said, shoving the plastic baggy in his jeans. He felt bad barging on CJ at his place of work, but CJ had been the one to urge Peter over and get his fix. And now that Peter got what he asked for, he just wanted to go home and figure out how to deal with his perma-boner.

“Come on. Best in his class, Peter Parker, spacing out and getting the wrong answers? You sound like you need a drink.” 

“What are you? My dad?” Peter laughed nervously because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Was it that bad? That his classmate whom he only started talking to for drugs realized his absentmindedness?

He was in no shape to be at a bar right now when he was prone to random boners and heat flashes like a middle-aged woman going through menopause. But when CJ nodded his head to the door and told Peter, come on, his feet followed CJ through the back door.

“Thank you,” Peter said.

“Don’t thank me. Just know that I’m blowing up your phone for biochem questions,” CJ laughed.

Peter didn’t know how to feel about getting scammed into being his weed dealer’s personal google, but at least it didn’t give him a boner. That was a win for Peter.

CJ worked at a small-scale bar, but for a Thursday night, it had a handful of people. It was mostly middle-aged women and senior men, but business was business.

When Peter sat down on the stool to watch CJ he realized that this was his first time in a bar. When you were Peter Parker and Spider-Man on the side, you didn’t have time to enjoy being legal or even a normal young adult. He didn’t know whether to soak it in or shrug his shoulders with nonchalance, but he couldn’t even confront the topic. The air turned hot, impeding his ability to think.

The longer he stayed in the bar, the more he perspired and felt like he was subjugated to poison ivy. It arrived like goosebumps, a faint and chilling sensation, and then the impending irritation to his skin started to flare. He ran his nails across his neck and nearly, yelped at the sensitivity.

He held in an aggravated sigh, feigning normalcy as he could feel a fever forcing its way into him. He wished he had the words to explain what was happening. Was this like a second puberty? Did spiders even experience puberty?

He tried to focus on the various bottles that were behind CJ in hopes of suppressing all of the emerging pain. Bacardi. Pink Whitney. Tito’s. Jack Daniels. Just looking at them made him feel uneasy, despite never having liquor before. It was like mentally reciting the brands was a spell that made him inebriated. Grey Goose. Patron. Hennessey. In Peter’s peripherals, he noticed CJ’s mouth moving.

“Huh?” He said, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“I said, she’s kinda cute. Don’t you think?”

When Peter looked back to the place where CJ’s eyes lingered, his spike in temperature and overall delirium made sense.

In the back of the bar, there she sat alone. The girl who held his accusations and grief. The girl who fired up the appetite in his loins. His heart was a lost puppy reuniting with its owner. He could feel the pulse in his throat as if his heart was ready to evacuate from its cell. His chest was ready to tear, letting the poor heart of his ravage her.

She looked better than she did in his dreams. He was hardly surprised by the spike in his heartbeat and the twitching of his cock as he skimmed over the black mini skirt riding up her bare thigh. He feasted on the sight of her, perhaps for too long, but CJ didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh. That’s weird,” Peter finally said.

“What?”

“I think I know her…” When he said that, he realized that he was a liar. He didn’t know her. Not really. He knew of her face and of her searing touch that stemmed from his dreams. He knew her in a way that wasn’t good enough for him. He needed more. “I think I’m gonna say hi.”

“Before you do that… Shot of courage, and that drink I promised you,” CJ said, sliding the glasses across the countertop.

“Fuck. Thanks,” Peter gulped at the beckoning alcohol.

Peter looked at the shot glass of amber, then at her, and then at the shot again. Fuck it. He snatched the weighted glass and swallowed the liquid in one go. He felt cinnamon in his sinuses and the swell of tears in his eyes. If he focused too hard he could feel the liquid swish in his belly and the likelihood of him hurling became exponentially high.

“Why does it burn so much?” He said past the coughs. 

“You’ve never had Fireball?” 

Peter grabbed the other drink and pushed himself out of his seat while CJ chuckled. If CJ said anything else, Peter didn’t hear it. He was zoned in on the sting in his chest and the insatiable need to be near her.

Peter felt like his legs were of lead as he made his way to her. If not for the sweating glass in his hand, he would have sprinted to her, but it was filled to the brim and ready to spill. That’s how he felt— A sopping mess trying to keep the equilibrium from going out of wack. He was ready to overflow.

Was it possible to be drunk after one shot? And did being drunk mean he would feel like he was dying? He didn’t know how this worked with his super genes, but the excruciating pain in his groin was festering and a handful of thumbtacks were piercing into him like a cork board. He tried his best to control his breathing, but as the distance between them lessened, his heart frantically shook against his ribcage.

Once he was within reach of her, he swore he could feel the alcohol leaking out from his pores. A small piece of him was shaking, questioning, now what?

Now, you take her, said a divine intervention. She reached out for her half-filled cup, and his instincts overpowered him. He finally took in her wrist, relieving him but only partially. It was an ice cube to the palm while his whole body was covered in lava, leaving him charred and ready to turn into ash under her command.

It felt good until he realized she was real and palpable. Someone with personal space and boundaries. Someone that was a complete stranger to him. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Her eyebrows knit under confusion until she recognized him. The short-lived fear was replaced with a sheen of wonder. “Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” he said almost breathless.

Her wrist was lost in ownership. It was clearly connected to her and yet it felt like it belonged to him entirely. She felt like velvet. He wondered if her skin felt like this everywhere.

When he came back to his senses, he finally let go, but there was a piece of him that was yelling at him to take it back as if it really belonged to him. “I’m sorry for grabbing you,” he said as he watched her hand slink back into her possession. Just barely, he noticed the way that her other hand touched the spot he grabbed before placing them below the table. His throat felt dry as her eyes sank into him. 

“Again,” she deadpanned.

 “Again,” he repeated. The tips of his ears were warm with shame.“I swear I’m not following you-”

“I know,” she interrupted with a faint smile. “What’s that?” 

Peter looked at the drink in question. He hadn’t really looked at it before until now, being that all of his focus was on her. The liquid was a red-to-tangerine gradient with an orange wedge on the rim. In truth, he couldn’t even make an educated guess. “I don’t really know.”

“Can I?” 

He passed her the drink, grazing her hand in the process. The contact caused a rush of adrenaline to surge through him, the hairs on his neck rising and his throat left dry. 

His lips parted as he watched her take the straw between her lips. In his dreams, her lips were sangria stained, but now at this moment, her lips were more of a subtle rose and flesh. His jaw clenched at the sight.

“I also don’t know.” She smacked her lips before tilting her head in curiosity. “Not a big drinker.”

“Me neither.”

“Did you try it?” He shook his head no. "Chug it, so it’ll be gone faster. That’s what I do.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he laughed nervously.

“Here. I’ll do it with you,” she flashed a tender smile while reaching for her cup.

When she brought the rim to her lips, her eyes flicked open to glance at him, as if to say, well?

Before he knew it, his hands were wrapped around his cup and downing the liquid like he was under her control. 

He finished before her. It tasted like a tropical vacation with an electric punch. His body wanted to recoil at the prominent taste of alcohol. Not even the assumed pineapple could neutralize its potency, but when he saw her his spine went stiff. She swallowed her marigold-colored drink and a teaspoon trickled down from the corner of her mouth to her neck. The drop got lost in her midnight grey sweater, either soaked up by the knit or running down her skin. There was nothing more he wanted to be than that drop of liquid running down her body, pressing kisses from her jaw to her chest. 

She wiped her mouth with her thumb in a fist and her glazed-over stare sucked him in. Their eyes locked and it felt infinite.

Masochist had suddenly become a word to describe Peter. In amidst the inexplicable pain at the tip of his fingertips and torturous anxiety, there was her. And everything was clear. It felt like staring at the sun in the middle of July, basking in a sweltering heat with no care for his sight— the only importance was that he was to look at her no matter the cost. 

He wanted to peel her open like an orange, tasting the nectar from her flesh. The taste of her would revive him. He could feel it in his bones. She was the ambrosia he thirsted for, the remedy to all of his problems. The joint in his pocket was nothing compared to her. He knew then and there, he would devote himself to her if she let him. 

Peter found himself drawn to the golden pendant around her neck and meditated on the fluctuation in her chest and her fragmented breaths before his eyes wandered back to her pretty face.

He took in her brightness, the way she twinkled. The shimmer in her lips and the mischievousness in her stare. There were glistening remnants of the liquid on the corner of her mouth. It was like every part of her was teasing him with each glimmer and wink.

Cautiously, he slowly brought his hand up to her face, giving her the opportunity to slap his hand away or yell at him. Instead, her mouth became agape releasing a sigh when Peter swiped his thumb against the edge of her mouth.

He opened his mouth to say something witty or beg for forgiveness, whichever came first, but she pushed herself out of the chair and stood up before he could even try.

“I’ll be right back,” she blurted out and didn’t wait for a response. She headed for the hallway past the bar counter, her strides long and quick. Peter could hear a voice in his head scream at him to follow her, and after the past few days that he had to endure, Peter’s mental strength was little to nothing. He hurried after, the fear of her leaving him heavy on his stomach.

He went down the hall and watched as she disappeared into the bathroom. His knuckles tapped against the green door. “Hey? Are you okay?”

He waited for an answer. Nothing.

“I’m sorry, I grabbed you,” he professed as he chewed on his cheek. If she could she read his mind, then he was fucked. He was already fucked, but he would be even more so. Making her uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t stop the images of all the positions he wanted to fuck her in and the thought of how she would sound as he railed her to the brink of ascension. He really tried, but he couldn’t and that’s how he ended up here. To find the cure to his perpetual arousal. Not to make her uncomfortable. “I’ll just go, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

As he was about to turn on his heels, the sounds of feet shuffling and a click of a lock paralyzed him. Amongst that, he could hear two heartbeats. One was heavily sedated, leisurely pumping blood like it was a hard thing. Skipping along his ribs. Running off of anticipation. Patiently waiting. In contrast, the other was untamed and wild. A beast trying to get out of its cage at all costs.

The strange thing was he couldn’t decipher which one was his as the empty air around him suffocated him.

When she opened the door, he felt like he was seeing her for the first time again.

Under the dim light, she looked glowing as if there was a radiance within her. The subtlety of the golden hue would make a normal person look sickly, but as it caressed her cheek and deemed her desirable, she looked like a star. A delight to Peter’s irregular heartbeats. 

“Now, you’re following me,” she said glaring past Peter like a ghost.

“I- Yeah. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He admitted earnestly.

“I’m anything but.”

Peter’s worries were festering as he watched her body language express her clear hate for this situation he put her in. Her attention had found her feet and cemented itself there, and it took everything for him to not grab her face and beg to look at him. If her eyes weren’t on him, he wasn’t breathing, and if her hands weren’t on him, he wasn’t living. Being without her was painful. He knew that since the first day he saw her. “Did I do something?” 

“Not exactly,” she murmured.

As he observed the painful expression on her face, he noticed the quiver of her bottom lip. She fidgeted with trembling fingers and he swore she was about to cry. He felt like he was transported to that day on the train, watching her hands uncontrollably shake. He wanted to take them in his own shaking hands and kiss each fingertip till she felt better.

“I know you don't know me but you can tell me,” he practically begged. Peter needed her to tell him, then he would know whether she thought of him as a creep or not. He was ready to leave and never see her again if that was what she wished for, despite the yearning his body felt for her that he was yet to understand. He was prepared to undergo psychiatric treatment and go as far as requesting a lobotomy because he was sure there was no cure for his neurosis.

She couldn’t help but to laugh past the approaching tears. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.” She went to rub the rogue tear on her cheek, but Peter was taking a hold of her wrist again.

“What happened?” He said.

Her palms were blemished with indentations from her fingernails, so deep that the affected skin was a garnet hue. This was the fourth time he touched her like she was his property, and he was ready for terror or annoyance to appear on her face, but it never comes. Her eyes sparkled with tears and longing.

“I feel like I’m going insane,” she laughed, but her eyes begged for compassion. “I think I’m being burned from the inside out or something.”

Her words swam in his belly. The preciseness of it slicing through him. That’s all he had felt for days and that’s how he felt now. He released her wrist and placed his palm on her forehead, feeling the radiating heat. “You just might be.”

She shut her eyes, basking in his touch, her chest elevating and cascading. “I think I’m sick.”

“We should get you to a hospital,” he whispered.

“That’s not it...” She trailed off. “I just…”

“Tylenol? Nyquil? You name it and I’ll get it,” he said softly, afraid that if his voice was anything less than a whisper, she would run away like a frightened rabbit.

She studied him, her mind the battleground for whether she could disclose her truth to him or not. She licked her lips before speaking. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since Monday. So bad, it hurts.” 

“Then, fuck me.”

The words hung in the air thick and harsh. Peter heard the words, but it never occurred to him that the words came from his mouth. 

For a moment, all they do is stand in the door frame with fervent eyes, waiting for the other to make a move. The static between them was sharp and beckoning. There was the same anxiety-ridden fever crawling on his back, extracting every liquid particle in him leaving him high and dry. Peter felt like he was drowning in fire, his body itching to move off of pure instinct and find relief.  He was hungry for her and she was giving him the green light, but he didn’t know if she knew what he would do to her. What he was capable of. His jaw clenched so hard he thought it would shatter at any second. 

But then he could feel her breath of sweet tea fan over his jawline as she looked up at him and within milliseconds he was like a shark, a single drop of blood enough to seize him. 

Peter’s body propelled him forward and took her lips into his. 

It consumed him— the way she tasted and felt against him. She was sweeter than he expected. More velvet than soft. Her body sank into him and he absorbed her, taking every piece of her that he could.

There’s a certain expression that came across his mind— the feeling you get when you kiss someone for the first time and sparks fly. Except Peter felt more than sparks. It was like his whole body was a human shield for a firecracker, firey shrapnel cutting into him all the while his body undergoes first-degree burns. It seemed that she felt the same way, her body jolting at his touch.

He thought it was just a saying, not this real, tangible ache in his skin and drunkenness weighing heavy on his chest. It was just a heady kiss, but it felt like his neurons were snapping into place, the taste of her perfecting his genetic alphabet. The excruciating pricks on his skin and the overall mental torture that he had experienced since Monday had muffled as he melted into her, and he then experienced a new pain. The pain of hunger and thirst.

“Close the door,” he rasped. 

They tore each other apart within a moment’s notice, staggering against each other to enter the single bathroom. Peter locked the door with a free hand as the other gripped her waist.

The hunger for her was clear since day one, but now that he had a taste, a switch in him flipped. He surpassed the ache of hunger and it evolved into starvation. He had this animalistic instinct to have her, something so ferocious that he couldn’t deny it any longer. There was nothing that could stop him from getting his fix.

They were stumbling to find their balance like they were both forces to be reckoned with, seeing who can touch the other more. Peter was completely enraptured with her, kissing until his lips were swollen and her throat bruised. He was forceful, slamming her back against the wall, a gasp being pushed out of her. 

Peter was wild and merciless as if he would never have this opportunity again. And as much as his brain begged him to take his time and explore her, his hands were relentless. He took a handful of her ass and ushered her body closer to him. Her flesh was like perfect dough in his hands, something he could knead and caress for hours.

His senses were overtaken by her. It was a symphony, everything perfectly orchestrated for Peter’s gratification. One palm held her steady at the small arch of her back while the other gripped onto the back of her thigh, opening herself to his grinding bulge. The whimpers and the wetness of her kisses crawled into his ears and made a home in his brain, as he sucked the salt off her neck. He breathed her in, hungry eyes observing his sweet lamb.

Her lips abruptly abandoned him, drawing him awake from his drunken state. His hazy eyes followed her, waiting for their lips to interlock again. Instead, her lips attached to the soft part of his neck, coaxing a rough groan from his mouth. She pressed chaste kisses against his neck, each peck a bucket of water to a wildfire.

He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of her tongue swirling against the nape of his neck. His head hung back in pleasure as she nipped at his earlobe and a fuck left his mouth from the maneuver. His hands squeezed at her waist, seeking any piece of relief for his fractured breaths.

He brought her face to his again, finally lapping that syrupy taste of hers. He inhaled her, devoured her. She was all he dreamt of and now he was sticking his tongue in her mouth and caressing her thighs.

“Touch me, please,” she mewled helplessly, guiding his hand to her underwear.

As he felt the damp fabric, his heart twisted with awe. ‘Fuck…” He dragged his thumb along her covered bud and anticipated her body language. Her hips buckled at his ministrations, giving him the confidence to go farther. Peter pulled her panties to the side with his pinky and trailed his middle finger along her slit, the pool of slick at her entrance saturating his fingertip. Inch by inch he slowly buried his longest finger in. 

It was his first time touching a girl like this, he didn’t know whether to be delicate or rough. His fingers moved gingerly in her, reaching for the antidote in her. She was sighing profanities like an incantation, her breath like magic coursing into him, making the neediness swell.  He could feel her pulse around his finger, the warm slickness glazing his knuckles. 

Touching her was like touching heaven. A sliver of mercy.

Peter pressed his forehead against hers, intensely watching her move under his command. He slipped another finger in. A line formed between her eyebrows and her mouth hung slightly, her face contorting from the rapture as he stretched her needy cunt. She sucked him in, all the way to his knuckles, and he began to pump them in and out. Each withdrawal of his fingers awarded him with desperate whimpers and each insertion gave him a sigh of relief.

“I want to try something,” she whispered, flirtatiously licking her lips. She took the hand that was fucking her and guided it back to her face, taking his coated fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his fingers, sweeping them clean.

Peter’s eyes stalked her in anticipation, and when she got on her knees and started tugging at his waistband, he thought he was going to die. “God, you’re not really going to do that, are you?” 

“You don’t want me to?” She purred.

She pulled out his dick that was tucked behind his waistband, a trail of precum shining under the low light. She began to palm his sensitive cock, her lazy grip enough to make him groan. Her thumb dragged along his tip, rubbing his precum around the head.

“Oh, it’s more than I want, but you don’t have to- Oh, fuck.” 

She eagerly took his whole cock into her mouth without any warning. Her head bobbed enthusiastically, her nose grazing his lower abdomen each time she pushed his cock to the hilt of her throat. It was a sensation Peter had never felt before, and he was addicted. She really was going to be the death of him.

The impulse to kneel and praise her was as strong as his hunger to ruin her. He took a handful of her hair and held it to the base of her head to ground him, to keep him strong. To keep him from not falling to his knees and profess a misplaced love for her. He couldn’t thank God for this, it was all her. 

Before he knew it, his mouth was hanging open and his ejaculation was overflowing in her mouth. She swallowed his load enthusiastically, pulling a guttural moan from him while she kept sucking. 

When he couldn’t handle the overwhelming work of her tongue, he pulled her back with her hair causing her to release his cock with a pop and whimper to follow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cum so quick,” he said panting.

She dragged her tongue along her bottom lip to remove the sheen of white. “You can make it up to me by fucking me.” 

Peter pulled off his sweatshirt and placed it onto the plastic bench that was directly across from the sink and mirror, coincidentally the perfect spot to watch her take his virginity. “Condom in my wallet,” he said, reaching for the leather wallet in his sweats.

“We don’t have time for that,” she muttered as she nudged his chest for him to sit down.“I want you, now.”

He pulled his cock out and rubbed his length, feeling her saliva along the base. “Are you sure?” 

She saddled up on him, her hands resting on his shoulder. “I’m on the pill and if you don’t put your cock in me right now, I swear- Fuck!” Her voice had shattered along with her brattiness by the head of his dick.

“What were you saying?” He groaned at the feeling of her soft spongy walls.

She sighed as she slowly sank onto his thick member. “Nothing…” 

Peter was immobilized, letting her use him as she saw fit. Once he was balls deep she steadily shifted her weight, beginning to move her hips.

It didn’t take much time until she was riding him to her heart's content, and the sight was so terribly obscene. He held her skirt up with his hands glued to her waist and watched as his cock would repeatedly disappear as her hips buckled. He nuzzled into her shoulder, eyes mesmerized by the view in the mirror. 

Peter heard it felt good and knew it looked good but he didn’t know sex was going to feel this electric. It felt better than he imagined. He had a harder time keeping his focus on the mirror than he thought he would, the rhythmic moving of her hips stirring him distracted. She gyrated her hips, ensuring that Peter had marked every wall and every flesh of her pussy. The pleasure sutured his eyes shut tight. It felt like he was dreaming. He must have been dreaming, that was the only way he could explain this.

Peter gripped onto the soft flesh on her hips, holding on like it was a lifeline. He gritted his teeth, drawing blood from the inside of his cheek in the process. Peter couldn’t move in fear that once he started rocking into her, he couldn’t stop. He feared he wouldn’t be able to control his strength. He let her use his cock, milking it with her tight hole.

She leaned back, giving Peter a better view of her wet cunt, and she started to rub her clit as she moved up and down on him. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Peter groaned, his hands rolling her sweater up to reveal her bare chest. He watched as her breast recoiled before taking them into his hands and guiding them into his mouth. He marked her with hickeys along the inner side of her breast as she used him for her self-gratification.

“Harder,” she whimpered, the sound traveling down his throat like cough syrup.

“I-I can’t,” he stuttered. He was in agony. He really wanted to, but he knew himself well enough to know that he could tear her apart. He ground his teeth together, the muscles of his jaw straining at the tiring tension. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I like it rough,” she whispered with a pleading voice.

At that moment he evaporated into the core of man. He encased her waist in the constraints of his muscular arms and held her down as he began to ram himself into her. If she liked it rough, she was going to get it rough, whether she could handle it or not. He warned her.

The particles of Peter Parker and Spider-man had simmered into the air becoming one big nothing and all he was, was a pair of hands and a devouring tongue. His primal instincts that begged for authority had finally swallowed the grip of judgment. This wasn’t his first time and this wasn’t a stranger. This was another meal that caused no interrogation. It was the most normal thing for Peter to drill her full of his cock, going balls deep.

He couldn’t think about if he was adequate enough for her or how this was his first time. And it never crossed his mind that he was losing his virginity in the bathroom of the first bar he ever went to and he definitely couldn’t pay any mind to how conspicuous her moans were. He didn’t because he couldn’t. Nothing mattered when her lips were on him, stamping purple bruises on his neck.

“Just. Like. That,” she gasped between breaths. Her hand roamed around his back, nails digging deep. He thought that his back would end up looking like her palms, etched red with her distraught.

Her desperate cries and the rapid sound of fapping bounced off the walls, echoing through his body. His eyes were gaping, watching with such intensity as her folds enveloped him. It was like something out of a porno, this girl in heat just falling right into his corrupted hands. With her short skirt hiked up to her waist and her desperate rosy expression, she seemed like she was made for this. 

He was masochistic and a narcissist and perverted in all the worst ways and it was all her fault. She ruined him with her begging eyes and burning touch so he ruined her back, fucking her till she could see stars. Railed her till she couldn’t walk.

“Yes, fuck me dumb!” she cried at his brutal pace. 

He stood up with her legs still wrapped around him and let gravity force her down deeper onto his cock. “Fuck!” She slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her incoherent babbles.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He whispered with a smug grin. “Fuck you dumb?”

He used her like a slot that had no purpose but to be filled up, cruelly ramming himself in and out of her. Moments ago, he was aware of how frail she was under his hands, but now he was remorseless, unable to care if he broke her or not.

He fucked her like there was a knot in her belly, each pump to the hilt an attempt to loosen it. Each thrust a step closer to his climax.

Peter could feel the tears fall onto his back as she cried into her hand. Her stifled moans traveled through his marrow, vibrating within the depths of him. He savored her velvet walls and the way she opened up so well for him. She had him reduced to nothing but a man with innate needs. His want for her had burned in the back of his eyelids. His hands seared into her body to satiate his desires for her. 

The collision was a mess from the start, he should have seen this coming. The train incident was like seeing smoke diffusing in the sky amongst layers of mountains and he looked the other way, ignoring the omen. And now he was in the heart of the firestorm, a blistering pain that felt so good. It was a rebirth through the means of a flame, one that Peter didn’t run away from anymore.

Somehow he wanted to reach deeper, feel the parts of her that no one else had. He bottomed out and rolled himself into her, his groin putting pressure on her clit, and sucked on her neck.

“Oh, if you keep doing that…” She trailed off feverishly, buckling her hips before breaking out into a trembling fit.

He could feel her pussy convulse on his cock, her hips winding through the coil. He didn’t think he could wrap his arms around her any tighter, but he does, squeezing the orgasm and air out of her. Peter could feel his own heatwave roll into him. 

“I’m cumming,” he groaned, mercilessly winding himself into her. As he shut his eyes and he could see stars much like the ones in her eyes. He buried his face into her shoulder, attempting to have more of her. His second orgasm surged through him like a flash of lightning, fast and sharp. He could feel his milk fill her up, saturating her walls.

As he stood there with her in his arms, trying to catch his breath, he could hear their hearts racing in tandem and her soft pants. He could hear the way her lungs filled and collapsed. He wondered if her lungs were filled with him like he was with her. His lungs were overfilled with the roses on her wrist and the salt on her skin and all of her breaths since that first day on the train. He was like a generator running off of this girl that he strangely, yet desperately needed. 

The flame slowly dwindled down, his pace slowing down until it was nothing. The smoke had let up and the fog fully dispersed through his body, and that’s when he could feel it. The visceral realization of the gravity of this beautiful little thing in his arms. It was clear and frightening all at once. The way the needles in the air disappeared and the sudden clarity in his mind. She fixed him and yet he felt it in his chest that he wasn’t done with her. She had burned herself into him, a permanent tattoo on his chest with her handprints seared onto the flesh of his ribs.

With his eyes closed there were flashes of a picnic amongst a rose garden and the tender waves of the sea and a timid bonfire at dusk. When he opened them, the vivid images were still there, but with another image of her now weary, yet ever so twinkling eyes.

For the first time he hoped he would dream of them.

want more? here’s my most recent one shot: moon river (tasm! bf peter)

a/n: planned for this to be a one shot, but we’ll probably see peter and silk again if this does well heheh xoxoxo as always, thank you for the support! keeps me motivated to keep writing! <3 mommy

reblog and comment for more xx

formerly @ghostofavictorianchild, which got terminated by @staff for no reason in particular and won't, it seems, be reinstated in this lifetime or the next, but that's alright because i'd been meaning to update the url and do an overhaul of the optics anyway, so i suppose fate sort of aligned there.

all this to say if we were mutuals before and aren't now it's not because i fucked off into oblivion, at least not willingly, but because @staff works in mysterious ways.

xx

FNAF AUS!!!

Greetings heres a quick guide and summary for all fnaf aus i got:

• Loose screws and bad coping mechanisms [regular au]:

DAxreader, the story is around a kind of enemies to friends to maybe somenthing more.

Everything beggan with a sleep deprived reader, and a machine runing on his last nerves, they fight and argue with eachother never trully understanding their perspectives, until maybe one day they do, but before that multiple things and shenanigans must happend, and also inminent danger lurks below the surface

Tagg: loose screws

•Tales of the aquaplex [mermaid au & eventual reader]:

Life always works in mysterious ways.

But nothing could have prepared anyone for what was next to come.

In a turn of events and a series of mysteries and murderers, Gregory finds their way into one of the most renowned aquarium waterparks, seeking a temporary shelter to stay in while the danger passes on the streets. Unfortunately, the wet attraction becomes a hunting playground in which he's the main target. Luckily for him, a bored Seal-Bunny, done with the routine and the tediousness of life inside the aquarium may offer a helping paw to rely on.

Come and join, as multiple stories and lives are changed as a chain of events falls like dominoes at the introduction of an orphan, where lost links and untold stories surface to attempt to find a resolution, where forgiveness and hope may thrive or get annihilated, as everyone fights to their happy ending.

Tagg: aquaplex

•Aiming for the stars [mecha au]:

It was never an eassy jot yet still you did it without fail, our lovely story beggans with a hard working y/n hopping from world to world never staying too long, their current job is on the great wall that would hopefully keep the monsters and the plague that torments the planets at bay, or well thats what the blueprints safe, it hasnt happend to this planet yet but soon it will come, theres no safety guidelines and osha would be crying at this but a little bit of comradery makes it go well, things where going like normal, until one day they trown off the wall in a crazy accident and end up rumaging trought the wilderness that rare and few ventured in, discovering a secret and a ticket to adventure where will shoot to the stars

Tagg: mecha au

• Twisting spells [howls moving castle au]:

A reteling of the howls moving castle with a couple of spins and extra details here and there, will be based mainly on the book than the movie but crossreferencing of material will happend!

But escentially reader hatter, is the older sister of 3, but at being the eldest her future has been already fortold to be the one who would eventually inherit the hat shop, while her other two younger may be able to seek their fortune and a good life, she cant complain but sometimes she wished she could chase her own freedom, but that is not somenthing for the eldest to have, or can she?

Tagg: howls au

• Castle of lies [treasure plannet au]:

A y/n on the run, is attempting to get back to their cosmic pirate crew because if they dont theyll be promply executed by multiple felonies of piracy, on the mean time two fleeing robots seek refuge in to the nearest vessel they can get themselves to, choosing to shed their old lifes as entretainers for an actual life, the twins hide away in a ship hoping that the crew wont see them until the next port.

Tagg: <tbd>

Unfortunatelly fate dosnt work that way and as such, the epic journey of 3 souls beggan all while is dangling in a massive colums of lies, as long as no body discovers somenthing that they shouldnt know a calm trip is guaranteed. Shame things never happend like that.

Other aus that are just crack or a silly thing:

The cats one (xx), the dating sim one (xx) and the horror plex one *gore and sensible content beware* (xx)

Elysian

That Which Binds You XV - Finale

Pairing: Stark!Peter x Blackcat!Reader

A/N: Here it is, the very last chapter, I’m so sad it’s over but I really loved writing this and I hope you all loved it as much as I did! Reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated and encouraged. I would love, love, love to read your thoughts on this chapter and the series as a whole. I love you guys so much, thank you so much for reading my series xx

Summary: With everything put behind you it’s finally time for you and Peter to just enjoy each other

Taglist

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

“You can’t see right?” you waved your hand in front of Peter’s face to test him.

He laughed and nodded, “I promise I’m totally blind.”

“Good,” you grabbed both of his hands and pulled him into the studio, “Okay, I want to make sure the lighting and everything is perfect so just wait here for a second, no peeking.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he clasped his hands in front of him and waited patiently for you to finish fiddling with your painting.

For the past two weeks you’d been locked away in a studio working on some mysterious big final project for your painting class. You hadn’t let Peter, or anyone else, take even the tiniest peek at it. You refused to even tell them what the project was, instead you just locked yourself in the rented studio for hours and hours so you could work without anyone around to disturb you. Peter had to deliver you food at the door just to make sure you were eating. One night you were there so late that he decided he was going to go drag you home himself and he found you passed out with your head laying on a paint pallet. He then spent the rest of the night helping you wash paint out of your hair.

Peter and your other friends all thought you were acting crazy, but it was worth it. It was the best thing you’d ever painted. Even though it was your final, Peter’s opinion was the only one you cared about. You wanted to be sure everything was perfect when you showed it to him. So you made him wait while you placed the painting at just the right angle, so it would look the best that it possibly could when he finally laid his eyes on it.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “Before you take the blind fold off I want to give you a little background.”

“Alright,” he smiled, “You’re the artist.”

“So, the assignment was to find a quote that we resonated with and to paint it. The quote I picked is from Marcus Aurelius, he was a Roman emperor and stoic philosopher,” you laughed awkwardly, “I guess you don’t really need background on him though. The important bit here is how I relate to and view the quote, and I related it to you,” you flushed, “I-I feel like you’ll understand once I read the quote, so it’s ‘Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.’.”

Peter’s cheeks dusted pink, “Yeah, I see how that would relate to us.”

“Good, great,” you kissed his cheek, making him turn towards you and try and press his lips to yours, “You ready to see it lover boy?”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

You took a deep breath and lifted the blindfold from his eyes. Both of you were frozen, you held your breath while you waited to see how he would react. His mouth hung open, like he wanted to talk but he didn’t know what to say. The painting portrayed Peter’s side profile while he slept on your chest. You were both nude, though only half of your chest and neck were visible. One of your hands was laced through Peter’s curls and one of his was splayed against your skin just under your breast. The whole thing was intimate and romantic and you’d tried your hardest to pour all of your emotion into the piece. To you it portrayed the deep love and admiration you had for him, and you could only hope he’d read it that way.

“It’s us,” his lips curled up to a smile.

“It’s called Elysian,” you fiddled with your hands nervously, “It means related to heaven or paradise, and you know, that’s how I feel about you so…”

He turned to you with the most loving look you’d ever seen and pressed his lips to yours, “It’s gorgeous (y/n), I can’t believe you wanted to paint me for your final, I feel so honored.”

“Well, you’re the love of my life, I think it just makes sense for you to be my muse too,” you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, “You really like it though?”

“I absolutely love it,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “It’s romantic and gorgeous and I feel like the luckiest person on earth. I mean you already picked me as your boyfriend and now you’re muse too? I can’t imagine what I did to deserve that.”

“I don’t know Peter, I guess you’re just that irresistible,” you sighed dramatically and pecked his lips, “I’m really glad you like it Peter, honestly I cared more about that than getting a good grade.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll get a good grade too,” he wrapped both his arms around you and rocked you back and forth, “You know I’ve got something for you too.”

You peaked up at him curiously, “What?”

“It’s a surprise, I’ll give it to you after we’ve finished our finals.”

“Hmm, playing hard to get,” you teased, “That’s sexy Peter.”

He laughed, “Says the girl who painted us both naked.”

“Hey, it’s only our upper bodies,” you rolled your eyes, “We could be wearing underwear.”

“Are we supposed to be wearing underwear?”

You grinned ear to ear and shook your head, “No.”

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

Finals week had kicked your, and all of your friends, asses. You were all relieved to finally be done with it and decided to gather at Peter’s house and pig out on some pizza to celebrate. As stressful as the week had been, you were glad to be stressing about your art and not Wilson Fisk. You never had to think about him anymore. Occasionally now you’d go on patrol with Peter or help him with a case if he asked you, but mostly you’d been focused on healing. It had paid off too, you’d healed beautifully, the only evidence left of your injuries was a small scar over your shoulder where you’d been shot. Life was great, and you were grateful that the biggest stressor you had now was school.

“I swear pizza has never tasted so good,” MJ smiled as she picked up another piece, “I hope I never have to look at another textbook again.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t go to school,” Heather sighed happily and fell onto the couch between you two, “I mean it seemed like MJ was going to have a heart attack. and I thought you were going to come out of that studio totally insane.”

“She almost did,” Peter snickered at your side, “One night I came to pick her up and she was passed out on top of her paints.”

“But it was worth it, I got nearly perfect marks,” you bragged.

“Well you certainly earned it,” he kissed your cheek.

“Yeah, it was gorg,” Heather squeezed your arm, “I really liked the boob, great coloring on the nipple.”

You all started laughing and you hit her in the arm, “Shut up Heather, I worked really hard on that nipple.”

That made everyone laugh even harder and it didn’t take long for the whole night to devolve into all of you laughing and joking around together. It was nice to finally relax after the stress of finals week, and you were looking forward to ending the night curled up in Peter’s bed with him. He’d retreated upstairs as soon as your friends left, claiming he’d gotten a call from his dad. You were a bit worried, Tony didn’t usually call so late for anything not superhero related, but Peter always let you know when he was going out. He hadn’t come back stairs though, and by the time you finished cleaning up the living room you were beginning to worry something was wrong. So you ran upstairs to find him, only to find Peter was missing. Instead there was a letter sitting on his bed, addressed to Blackcat.

        Blackcat,

                Meet me at Belvedere Castle asap,

                                        Love Always,

                                                Your Spider

You smiled down at the note, he’d even drawn a small heart on the bottom of the note for you. You set the note back down and changed into your suit. It almost felt odd to put it on now, you weren’t as used to flying around the city anymore, and Peter was always with you when you did. It was lonelier without him, even though it was just a short trip to Central Park, you found yourself missing his company.

As promised Peter at the very top of Belvedere Castle. He has a picnic spread out there and a big smile on his face, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tossed your mask to the side and smiled back at him, “What’s all this?”

“It’s called a date, haven’t you ever been on one?” he did his best to mock your Blackcat voice as he spoke.

You slipped your arms around his waist with a smile, “Let me guess, there’s champagne in that basket over there?”

He nodded, “Four hundred dollar champagne that I stole from my dad.”

“Stole?” you raised your brow, “Come on Peter, you’re supposed to be influencing me, not the other way around.”

“I can’t help it, we spend so much time together I’m bound to pick up some of your habits,” he bit his lip and kissed your cheek, “Come sit down, I’ve got dessert in there and it’s a little time sensitive.”

“Champagne and dessert?” you grinned as you sat down beside him, “Wow, what a night.”

“Only the best for you,” he smiled and pulled two individual cups of your favorite ice cream out, “Ta da.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned happily, “You’re seriously the best boyfriend in the world,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek while he dug out the champagne.

“Well I promised you a surprise didn’t I?” he jumped as he popped the champagne open, the cork went flying over the edge of the castle and you both laughed, “Oops.”

“Stealing and littering? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“I don’t know, rebellious college phase I guess,” he poured you both a glass and held his up to yours, “Cheers?”

“To us,” you clicked your glass against his and kissed him before you took a drink, “Two super hot superheros in love.”

“I don’t know about superhero, I think you’re still in the sidekick phase,” he teased.

“Sidekick?” your jaw hung open, “You think I’m your sidekick?”

He smiled playfully and nodded, “Definitely, I mean I’ve been at it way longer.”

“That doesn’t matter, I mean you didn’t get your powers until you were fourteen, I started stealing when I was ten. I’ve still got seniority.”

“No way,” he laughed, “I’ve been fighting crime longer than you, that’s what really matters here.”

“There is no way I am your sidekick Peter,” you poked his chest, “If anything you're my sidekick.”

“I’m your sidekick? I recruited you,” he smiled and set his ice cream and champagne aside and moved so that he was in front of you on his knees, “And you’re gonna admit it.”

“Oh really?” you challenged.

He nodded and grabbed your waist, “Or I’ll make you.”

“Make me?” you smirked and sat your food on the ground, “I’d like to see you try Spider.”

He leaned in like he was going to kiss you, but instead he started tickling you. You burst into laughter and fell backwards while you tried to push him away. He laughed above you and sat on your hips, pinning you under him.

“Peter stop!” you cried as you attempted to grab his hands.

“Admit your my sidekick and I will,” he promised.

“Peter!” you continued giggling and trying to wiggle away from him. When it became clear he wouldn’t let you go you gave in, “Fine, fine, I’m your sidekick!”

Peter grinned above you and stopped his assault, “You are, you’re my gorgeous sidekick that I am deeply, deeply in love with.”

“Aw, I love you too Spider,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his lips to yours.

He kissed back hard and nipped at your bottom lip before he pulled away, “Maybe we can pick that up after we finish the ice cream?”

“I think that sounds perfect Peter.”

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Taglist:

@spideyssunshine @spideyspeaches @niallsvirgosun @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @roseke @zspideyy @tomsirishgirlx @emistrash @peachyafshawn @agbspidey @andreagf956 @sleepybesson @raajali3 @misshale21 @nj01 @prancerrparkerr @xoxomaterialgirl @mayal0pez @ellabellabus07 @rednights @minjix @belovedholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @holyhumorliteraturelight @collywobbl @graciexmarvel @blankspaceblankday @mads-weasley @edgycatx @secretsthathauntus​ @kbakery​ @lnmp89​ @negasonic-teenage-asshole​

Borrowed Sweaters, Stolen Kisses

— In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into your crush’s dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the hoodie you snatched was Shinsou’s favorite sweater.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader word count: 2,204 genre: fluff, aged up au (class 3a) warnings: 16+, suggestive content

a/n: this used to be a harry potter fic i wrote on my hp account but i rewrote it for shinsou bc it just seemed fitting fhgjdhsfg. shinsou is in class 1a in this fic or 3a since they’re aged up and at least 18 years old u.u i hope y’all enjoy!! xx 

“No way.” You shook your head, kicking your legs out in front of you as you ignored Hagakure’s poking and prodding.

It was a relatively relaxed Friday night, and you and your friends decided to spend it in your dorm with a bottle of whisky and a game of Truth or Dare. The truths ranged from anything to, “Fuck, marry, kill: Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari” to, “Who was the last person you sent a nude to?” And the dares weren’t any better. Ashido practically vomiting in the corner served as a great reminder of that.

You were just grateful the dares you received were rather mundane. 

That was, until now.

“Y/N, you have to do it!” said Hagakure.

“Can’t I just forfeit this round and take a shot?”

“Nope, that’s only allowed for truths,” she quipped. 

You glanced over at Jirou, a pleading look on your face, but you were met with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Rules are rules,” Jirou sang, taking a swig of whisky before passing you the handle.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Mina’s fierce glare caused your words to die in your throat.

“If I had to chug that hot sauce concoction you guys made and then eat the mystery sushi until I felt sick, you can go to Shinsou’s room and steal a hoodie or something-- Sounds like a cakewalk compared to my dare.”

As she leaned her back against the bed, hand over her stomach as beads of sweat trailing down her forehead, you figured Mina was right. You’ve been in his dorm plenty of times before, anyway-- You two were friends and, at times, you supposed you enjoyed his company. What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re right.”

“I know.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and slipped some fuzzy socks on, ignoring the cheers coming from your tipsy roommates. When you reached the door, your friends watching fervently as you wandered off to your ill-fated trek, you paused at the handle. 

You looked back at them, heaving a sigh. “If his dorm turns out to be booby trapped and I get caught, just know I will haunt you from the grave after I die of embarrassment.” 

“We expect nothing less,” was Tsuyu’s smart reply. 

Soon enough, you found yourself climbing up the boys’ side of Heights Alliance, feeling like you were doing a reverse walk of shame. It was a quarter past three o’clock in the morning and the odds of any of them being awake were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach. 

You made your way to the front of Shinsou’s dorm room and cautiously placed your hand on the door handle. With a small grumble you fished the key card Hagakure stole from Hitoshi earlier (which made you wonder just how long your friends were planning this whole escapade out…) out of the pocket of your sweatpants. 

For the most part, it looked just like your dormitory. Only neater. His desk was fairly organized and, aside from balls of yarn and different sizes of knitting needles, was clear enough to work on. Scarves and hoodies were piled onto the back of the chair and foot of the bed--which meant your dare should be easy enough to complete--and a dim light was left twinkling.

Everything seemed cozy and lived in. Normal.

Except for the fact that Shinsou Hitoshi was not in his bed. 

“What on earth?” you murmured under your breath, finding it a bit strange the room was completely empty at this hour. But knowing him, you reckoned he was out training at any hour he could--something that worried you about him--or playing with a cat off campus grounds. It wasn’t unlikely. 

Still, with your feet planted at the foot of his dormitory, you wanted to get out of there before you were caught. Because you knew there was no way in hell for your drunken ass to smooth talk your way out of this mess if he were to find you.

Your hand hovered over the article of clothing nearest to you, which was a sweater draped over the back of a chair, and you took a deep breath, saying, “It’s just a dare. You can do it.” 

Before you lost all your nerve, you snatched the jumper with one hand and slipped out of the dorm. As you rushed down the stairs, you could’ve sworn you heard some shuffling coming from the empty room. But you didn’t care.

Part one of your dare was successfully completed.

Now for the hard part: Wearing it around the next day.

- - - - -

“How do I look?” 

You posed in front of your roommate, trying not to laugh at how the borrowed jumper engulfed your frame. Walking down the center of your dorm, you gave a little twirl.

“Sexy,” Mina teased from her spot on her bed. “Shinsou’s sweater looks nice on you.” 

Sticking your tongue out at her, you made a face. “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s pretty gross to me. I would never want to wear any of Shinsou’s clothes.”

“Then why did you put the hood over your head and bury your face in the collar?” 

Slowly, you peered up at her with your view obstructed by the fabric. You sniffled haughtily, trying to ignore the soothing aroma of lavender and smoked wood that filled your sense. 

Mina smirked, catching the small sigh of contentment that left your mouth as you basked in the scent of Shinsou’s hoodie. “Gross, huh?” 

“Mention this to no one,” you mumbled with a nonthreatening glare, pulling the hood off your head and folding your fabric-covered hands over your chest.

Laughing, she tossed you your bookbag from across as she waited by the door, the rest of your friends back in their own rooms to get ready for class. “Come on, lovebug. You can see him during math in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be looking forward to it.”

You grumbled protests as the both of you made your way down the stairs of Heights Alliance and toward the main campus of U.A. High, but Ashido paid them no mind. Soon enough, you reached the room and spotted Jirou and Hagakure in their usual seats. 

“Hey,” you quickly whispered, sliding into the seat next to Tooru before Ectoplasm sauntered over to the front of the class.

“Nice jumper,” she said simply, voice going an octave higher in amusement. “I knew you’d go through with it.” 

Reminded of your rather bold choice of clothing (that was horribly out of dress code), you subconsciously tugged at the sleeves. You sent a quick plead to the gods above that you didn’t look as foolish as you thought you did. 

While Ectoplasm introduced antiderivatives and indefinite integrals to the class, Hagakure nudged you on the side, sliding you a ripped piece of her parchment paper.

You looked at her curiously as Mina peered over your shoulder to catch sight of the writing.

DO NOT LOOK NOW!!! But I’m 100% certain Shinsou has been staring at you since the start of math class.

Of course, the first thing both you and Ashido did after reading the note was turn your heads at the same time towards the back of the class where Hitoshi and his friends were sitting. And, as your luck would have had it, you made directly eye contact with an amused-looking Shinsou.

Both you and Mina turned around to face the front so fast you were sure at least one of you received whiplash. 

Wide-eyed and flushed, you exchanged glances with her, both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

“I told you not to look,” Hagakure whispered, a small giggle escaping from her lips, sending you three into fits of laughter you tried to muffle with your hands. 

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, causing the three of you to straighten up in an instant. 

“Something amusing you, ladies?” 

“No, sir,” you quipped.

“Sorry, Ectoplasm-sensei,” remarked Tooru.

“We’ll shut up now,” promised Mina.

With a stern look on his face but a slight tilt of his smile, Ectoplasm nodded and returned to his lesson. “I trust you three will be experts of the integral calculus by the next lesson and I won’t have to catch you making doe eyes at a certain someone?”

Though he asked all three of you the question, his gaze was pointed at you and the class knew it. Your cheeks heated up as slouched into your chair. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could turn into the seat. 

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled, ignoring the stifled laughter from Ashido and an apologetic, but amused, look from Hagakure. 

And as he continued the lesson, you could’ve sworn you felt a certain pair of eyes on the back of your head until the end of it.

When class finally concluded and Ectoplasm dismissed the lot of you, you rushed out of the classroom as fast as you could.

But not fast enough.

“Nice sweater, Y/N,” you heard a deep voice call, stopping you in your footsteps. “Looks familiar.”

You swallowed, slowly turning around to face Shinsou--lazy smirk and all. There was nothing you wanted to do more than dash back to your dormitory and hide, but instead you straightened your spine and braved a look of nonchalance.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. “I’d have to say it does.”

Peering up through your lashed, you looked at him with faux innocence. “I can’t say I know why.”

Slowly, he walked closer towards you as you moved back against the wall. He took the excess fabric of your sleeve into his hands, stroking them between his fingers.

“You know-- It even feels familiar.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Just like my sweater I happened to lose last night.”

By now, the halls had begun to clear up, the traitors you called friends having left you with a thumbs up right as Shinsou approached you. 

You coughed as you repeated, “I wonder why.”

He was so close you could catch a whiff of his lavender and woodsy scent.

“If you wanted my clothes on you, Y/N, you could’ve just asked.”

You pointedly eyed the way he was toying with the hem of your--or rather, his--sweater, lifting it slightly. “Well, if you wanted my clothes off this badly, you could’ve just asked.” 

Shinsou raised his eyebrows in surprise at your suggestion, hand frozen on the fabric. The intensity of his gaze melted your steely disposition, embarrassment creeping up to your neck.

“I’m only kidding,” you murmured, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

“That’s a shame, then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” 

Biting the inside of your lip, you toyed with the bottom of your sweater.

“That’s my favorite jumper, you know?” mused Shinsou, looking fondly at the U.A. hoodie. “Aizawa got it for me when I entered the hero course.” 

A horrified look crossed your face. You stole his favorite sweater that Eraserhead gifted him himself? Good going. 

“Oh, shit,” you swore, reaching for the hem of the hoodie. “I’m sorry, Shinsou! I didn’t know.”

Chuckling, Shinsou placed his hand on top yours to stop you from removing it. “No-- You can keep it on.” You paused. “I’d say I quite like how it looks on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat when his hand that was still on your ran down the length of your fingers. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you interlaced them with his own, causing him to send a shocked but pleased look your way. You smiled.

He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him. “If I were to kiss you right now, would you be upset?”

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “Upset is the last thing I’d be.”

“Well, then I suppose--”

“What are the two of you doing?” you heard Aizawa exclaim as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the two of you against the hallway. He pulled Shinsou away from you by the collar, your cheeks flooding with embarrassment. 

Shinsou, however, looked unperturbed.

“Sorry, Aizawa-sensei,” he said sincerely, “but what I was about to do just then-- I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

He chuckled at the shocked look on your face, giving you a wink as Aizawa released his shirt. Shinsou made his way back over to you across the hall.

“How cute you looked in my sweater was only the catalyst,” said Shinsou before placing both hands on either side of your hips, pulling you towards him in a brief but deep kiss.

“Shinsou! Y/L/N!”

“Sorry, sir.” This time, Shinsou didn’t sound so sincere as he ignored the appalled look on Aizawa’s face. “I just couldn’t wait until we got to the dorms to do that. Don’t worry though, Y/N-- I swear there will be far better kisses that’ll take place there as well.”

And though the two of you may have been sentenced to detention and cleaning duty for the next three weekends, you would have to say the kiss was definitely worth it.

My Fic Masterpost

Here are all 60 fics that I’ve posted on AO3, newest to oldest. Enjoy!

If you would like to subscribe to be notified when I post new works you can do so here - thanks for reading xx

💜 Peeping | E | 16k | May 2024 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | wanking, teasing, seduction plans, idiots falling in love, nye, humour, domestic fluff, harry likes to watch and be watched, so does louis as it turns out, smut | Where Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

💜 Take Me Home (series) | E | 27k | Sept 2023 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | songwriter louis, wanderer harry, country fic, isolation, found family, smut | Where Louis thinks he has everything he could ever have wanted until life shows him how wrong he was.

💜 And What If I Were You | E | 110k | April 2023 | AO3 | AO3 Russian | Wattpad | Tumblr | Trailer | famous/non-famous, actor harry, artist louis, blind louis, exes to lovers, found family, angst, pining, slow burn, flashbacks, smut | Where Louis loses his sight, Harry loses the love of his life, and they both lose their way, but will they find their way back to each other before it’s too late. 

💜 Under The Milky Way | E | 11k | Oct 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | rock star louis, photographer harry, australia, pranks, louis is a menace, sydney harbour, yachts, red wine, star gazing, barricade runs, harry’s house, grapejuice the song, smut | Where Louis is a rock star on tour, Harry is a free lance photographer, and drinking red wine under the stars might just be worth the hangover.

💜 Love On Air | E | 19k | Sept 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | stranded in a radio studio, radio dj louis, artist manager harry, australia, sydney, banter, music appreciation, locked-in, on-air interviews, proposals, butterflies, smut | Where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

💜 Moonlight Minx | E | 15k | August 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | stranded on an island, photographer harry, island caretaker louis, storms, australia, sydney, smut | Where an unexpected storm strands Harry on an island, Louis gets an unexpected house guest for the night, and love might just be the most unexpected thing of all.

💜 Truebonds | E | 40k | July 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | abo, alpha harry, omega louis, scenting, nesting, heats/ruts, truebonds, new hampshire, american harry/louis, scenter harry, animal sanctuary owner louis, mpreg, smut | Where Louis is an omega in need, Harry is an alpha for hire, and destiny presents them with a fate they never saw coming.

💜 From Dust To Lust | E | 45k | May 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | road trip AU, enemies to lovers, australian outback, only one rental car, only one hotel room, only one double bed, etc, party crashers, weddings, karaoke, endless banter, PDA, frequent coincidences, smut | Where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.

💜 Best Snog Ever | E | 13k | April 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | friends to lovers, pining, banter, boy band bangers, hiccups, niall as the helpful bartender, australia, smut | Where Harry wants Louis, and Louis wants Harry, but neither of them can seem to manage to seal the deal until Niall, the always helpful bartender, comes up with an inventive cure for Louis’ hiccups.

💜 Love On A G String | E | 20k | Mar 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | rock star harry, replacement guitar tech louis, australia, all my favourite conversations, always made in the a.m, sunrises, banter, smut | Where Harry is a rock star on a world tour, Niall is his tech crew manager, Liam is his tour manager, and Louis is in the right place at the right time.

💜 With A Little Kindness | E | 33k | Feb 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | single parent harry, generous stranger louis, kid fic, mpreg harry, broke harry, wealthy businessman louis, angst, fluff, romance, smut | Where Harry is a struggling single parent who doesn’t have time for relationships and Louis is a generous stranger who is unlucky in love, until fate decides to step in and bring them together.

💜 Mistletoe, Memories, and Mayhem | M | 13k | Jan 2022 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | Trailer | christmas in january, christmas themed disasters, louis just wants to propose, hopelessly endeared harry, persistent carolers, feline related chaos, grand romantic gestures | Where Louis had a plan. A solid plan. A brilliant plan. A plan that would sweep the love of his life off his feet and propel them both towards the marriage Louis so desperately wanted. He just hadn’t accounted for the calamitous unfolding of events as he tried to execute said brilliant plan.

💜 In A Twinkling | E | 90k | Dec 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | advent fic, christmas au, famous/non-famous, gucci model harry, marketing executive louis, matchmaking, photoshopping, crochet circles, ice skating, bed/couch sharing, awkward boers, banter, pining, angst, smut | Where Louis’ Nan just wants him to be happy, to settle down with a nice boy, and bring him around for Christmas. Louis is too busy with his career to bother about relationships, but in an attempt to appease his Nan, he sends her photoshopped pictures of him and his pretend boyfriend, Harry. The fact that the man in the pictures is none other than Harry Styles, world famous Gucci model—and recurrent star of Louis’ fantasies—is irrelevant. It’s not like their paths will ever cross… So it comes as somewhat of a surprise when Louis returns home for Christmas and walks into his Nan’s sitting room only to find the real-life Harry Styles happily chatting away with the grey-haired ladies of his Nan’s Crochet Circle.

💜 Full Moon Dreaming | E | 43k | Nov 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | soulmates, enemies to friends to lovers to soulmates, australia, surfing, country fire service, bushfires, volunteer firefighters, hurt/comfort, angst, pining, ot5, smut | Where every month, Full Moon Dreaming reveals a person’s soulmate. Sometimes it’s an object or a place, or for the lucky ones, the love of their life. Louis has given up hope of dreaming of a person, resigned to living a life devoid of that kind of all-consuming love for another and receiving the same in return. But when a new neighbour descends on Louis’ beloved Hanson Bay and moves into the other beach house, could all that be about to change?

💜 Wild Hearts Run Free | E | 43k | Nov 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | AO3 Russian | AO3 Spanish | abo, alpha harry, omega louis, woodsman harry, city boy louis, strangers to lovers, wilderness, seclusion, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, scenting, knotting, smut | Where Harry is an alpha who is harbouring a dark secret, one that has forced him into self-imposed isolation, far from civilization and far from temptation. Louis is an omega who has fought the predispositions of his secondary gender his whole life and suddenly finds himself cast aside by his beta partner, leaving him to question his place in the world. When fate and Mother Nature conspire to trap the two strangers together, will Harry’s worst fears be proven, or will Louis find a way to break down his walls and lead him into the light?

💜 Forever Young | E | 24k | Oct 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | strangers to lovers, fantasy elements, bartender louis, artist harry, every human has wings, but not everyone can see them, angst, hurt/comfort, bed sharing, smut | Where everyone in the world has wings, but no one can see them. Harry is different, though. All his life, he’s known what others don’t, but when he moves to a small village outside of the city, could the enigmatic bartender with the beautiful blue eyes be about to change all that?

💜 Player | E | 28k | Oct 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | AO3 Spanish | famous/non-famous, tennis player harry, publicist louis, himbo harry, highly strung louis, revealing instagram posts, dick pics, flirting, pining, smut | Where Louis is Harry’s highly strung publicist and has a thing for his client, Harry is an international sports star and has a thing for his publicist, Liam and Zayn have a thing for each other, and Niall wishes everyone would just get their shit together.

💜 Man, Deconstructed | E | 14k | Sept 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | strangers to lovers, mistaken identity, sculptor harry, niall is a terrible wingman, louis is just trying to do his job, louis has the perfect arse, stress baker harry, oblivious harry, smut | Where a well-meaning best mate, a sculpture-worthy arse, and a heaping dose of misunderstanding combine to create sheer and utter chaos, and also, maybe, the best thing Harry’s ever found.

💜 A Hungry Heart | E | 28k | Sept 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | great british bake off au, famous/non-famous, pop star and guest judge louis, florist and contestant harry, banter, humour, innuendos, cliches, copious 1d references, pining, misunderstandings,, fluff and romance, smut | Where the Bake Off tent has never been so hot and it’s got nothing to do with the ovens.

💜 Moments | E | 11k | July 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | AO3 Russian | fake exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, particle physicist louis, event manager harry, niall as the confused wingman, banter, musical references of the ed sheeran kind, smut | Where Louis invents a fake date with a random guy to get out of an awkward conversation with Niall only to have the guy turn up at the bar and oops, he’s a friend of Niall’s.

💜 Fuck U (Even) Betta | E | 3.5k | July 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | Established Relationship, Light BDSM, Sex Toys, Aftercare, smut | Where where Harry hates to be away from Louis, Louis hates to miss Harry, but everyone gets what they need… eventually.

💜 Just One Touch | E | 11k | May 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | strangers to lovers, footballer louis, doctor harry, the 5 senses, foods like look like dicks, angst, pining, sexual frustration, masturbation, a cat named muriel | Where football star Louis needs to get match fit in a hurry and doctor Harry has some unorthodox methods.

💜 In The Still Of The Night | E | 68k | May 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | AO3 Spanish | dirty dancing au, abo, alpha harry, omega louis, dancer harry, student louis, omega rights, class divide, dancing, angst, sexual frustration, smut | Where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

💜 Love, Ever After | E | 20k | May 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | abo, alpha harry, omega louis, farmer harry, matchmaker louis, blind dates, heats/ruts, knotting, soulmates, pining, smut | Where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

💜 The Future Is Now | E | 16k | Feb 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | best friends to lovers, 5+1 things, flatmates, fortune telling, magic, carnivals, idiots in love, oblivious louis, patient harry, smut | Where Louis follows the fortunes five times to seek out his true love, and then the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

💜 The Pirate and The Piper | E | 38k | Jan 2021 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | peter pan au, enemies to lovers, fantasy, magic, pirates, lost boys, hidden identities, slow burn, spanking, rough sex, angst, hurt/comfort | Where Louis is Pan, Harry is Hook, and nothing is what it seems.

💜 A Moment In Time | E | 14k | Nov 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | exes to lovers, fantasy, magic, angst with a happy ending, clifford, castles, fluff, banter | Where Harry and Louis were together, until they weren’t, but with a twist of fate and a bit of magic could this be their chance to find forever in each other’s arms?

💜 Don’t Hold Back | E | 15k | Oct 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | Narry, famous Niall, rockstar Niall, non-famous Harry, superfan Harry, Australia, lads holiday, banter, concerts, smut, based on Cross Your Mind (from Heartbreak Weather) | Where Niall is a rock star, Harry is a Niall Horan super fan, Liam, Louis, and Zayn are excellent wingmen, and dreams really do come true.

💜 Seven Simple Words | E | 15k | Sept 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | exes to lovers, past friends with benefits, Australia, love confessions, pining, angst with a happy ending, smut, based on To Be So Lonely (from Fine Line) | Where you don’t always get what you want the first time around, but sometimes the universe decides to give you a second chance at getting it right.

💜 Feels So Right | E | 9k | Aug 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | high school musical AU, strangers to lovers, college student Louis, college student Harry, Louis is 21, Harry is 19, karaoke, fate, smut | Where Louis is Troy, Harry is Gabriella, and we find out what really happened after karaoke at that ski resort.

💜 Wonderland | E | 4k | July 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | ABO, omega Harry, alpha Louis, porn with love, mpreg Harry, scenting, knotting, body worship, horny Harry, smut | Where Louis loves to worship his Omega’s body and Harry loves to let him.

💜 The Baby Whisperer | E | 19k | July 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | strangers to lovers, neighbours being neighbourly, babies, kid fic, art curator Harry, equine veterinarian Louis, English countryside, prior mpreg Harry, romance, smut | Where Harry’s newborn baby won’t sleep and Harry is at his wits end until a kindly new neighbour moves in next door to answer his prayers. 

💜 Fuck U Betta | E | 11k | July 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | BDSM, jealous Harry, possessive Harry, Louis is a tease, dom/sub undertones, toys and restraints, smut | Where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

💜 Caves End | E | 40k | June 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | famous Harry, footballer Harry, non-famous Louis, farmer Louis, Australia, horse riding, slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, riding accident (everyone is fine), slight miscommunication, romance, smut | Where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

💜 When Tomorrow Comes | E | 11k | June 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | ABO, alpha Harry, omega Louis, scenting, nesting, bonding, mating, mpreg, pups, comfort, smut | Where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

💜 You Drive Me Wild | E | 5k | May 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | chauffeur Harry, executive Louis, carelessly placed lube, masturbation, dirty talk, thirty-something Louis, silver fox Louis, twenty-something Harry, smut | Where Harry has a brilliant idea to while away the time as he waits around for his boss but fate decides to rain on his parade... or maybe it’s the universe answering his prayers.

💜 No Going Back | E | 56k | May 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | lighthouse keepers AU, strangers to lovers, remote location, bed sharing, dom/sub undertones, restraints, strip scrabble, scrabble on the edge, Australia, romance, smut | Where one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

💜 Strong Enough | E | 21k | May 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, idiots in love, drummer Louis, songwriter Louis, singer Harry, frontman Harry, angst with a happy ending, smut, based on Fearless (from Walls) | Where Vertigo comes back together for a benefit concert five years after going on hiatus. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

💜 Shine | E | 13k | Feb 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | strangers to lovers, scientist Louis, carpenter Harry, actirasty (arousal by the rays of the sun), kink exploration, dom/sub undertones, spanking, smut | Where Louis has a thing for the sun and Harry is more than happy to indulge his sunshine boy.

💜 If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | E | 56k | Jan 2020 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | hybrid AU, kitten hybrid Louis, human Harry, childhood friends, no fixed historical era, scars, hurt/comfort, fear and anxiety, angst, slow burn, first times, the happiest of endings, smut | Where one man’s love changed the world.

💜 Everything I Do | E | 16k | Dec 2019 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | established relationship, courtship rituals, marriage proposal, stargazing, massage, tooth rotting fluff, romance, Harry makes grand romantic gestures, Louis laps them up, smut | Where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

💜 Playing To Win | E | 37k | Nov 2019 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | big brother AU, enemies to lovers, secret relationship, bed sharing, handcuffs, hot tub sex, outdoor sex, smut | Where Louis really doesn’t want to like Harry, Harry is struggling to quell his growing fondness for Louis, and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight fate.

💜 Exposed | M | 666 words | Oct 2019 | AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr | halloween AU, uni students, body painting, living art, skeletons don’t have dicks, Louis does, nakedness, Harry is very thorough with his art, flirting, banter | Where Louis should really stop agreeing to do favours for his friends while drunk, especially when they result in him becoming a naked live-art model.

💜 Forever and Always | E | 26k | Oct 2019 | strangers to lovers, vampires, other fantasy creatures, body swapping, Niall is an excellent wingman, Harry is also an excellent wingman, Narry bromance, side Ziam, side Shiall, camping, waterfalls, spells and potions, banter, vampire bites, blood drinking, smut | Where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

💜 Going My Way | E | 20k| Sept 2019 | strangers to lovers, mpreg Louis, lyft driver Louis, PR exec Harry, kid fic, California, banter, comfort, Harry dotes on Louis, foot massages, dom/sub undertones, smut | Where Harry gets a replacement LYFT driver, Louis is just trying to earn some extra cash before the baby arrives, and they both end up with way more than they bargained for.

💜 Up For It | E | 18k | Aug 2019 | secret relationship, bed sharing, lads holiday, Australia, banter, travel, surprises, dom/sub undertones, smut | Where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

💜 With Words Unspoken | E | 18k | July 2019 | 1960s/70s AU, strangers to lovers, California, Louis is 49, Harry is 47, mentions of past divorce (Louis/OFC), Louis has grown up children, Louis has grandchildren, fate, love, sexual awakening, the happiest of endings, time jump, smut | Where Louis is lost, Harry is an excellent tour guide, and age is no barrier to finding the love of your life.

💜 Play Me A Memory | E | 27k | July 2019 | strangers to lovers, Australia, famous Harry, non-famous Louis, kid fic, the weather is a great enabler, conveniently timed storms, spanking, dirty talk, smut | Where Harry is a recluse who lives on millionaires row who is forced to stay at the local resort while repairs are carried out on his home. Enter Louis Tomlinson, single dad to nine-year-old Jake, and events coordinator extraordinaire at the resort.

💜 From The Heart (series) | E | 25k | July 2019 | strangers to lovers, coffee shop AU, writer Louis, barista Harry, artist Harry, Louis is a nerd, Harry is a dork, smut | Where Louis spends every Tuesday holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. 

💜 The Cyber Sphere | E | 18k | June 2019 | Louis/Dermot O’Leary, strangers to lovers, rich Louis, recluse Louis, writer Louis, famous Louis, radio host Dermot, TV presenter Dermot, famous Dermot, Louis is 28, Dermot is 32, artificial intelligence, technology, Twitter banter, smut | Where Liam likes to think he’s Batman, Dermot has terrible taste in sporting teams, and Louis should really get a cat.

💜 Surprise Me, Space Boy | E | 7k | May 2019 | space fic, future fic, dating in space, sexual tension, striptease, masturbation, smut | Where Harry and Louis are solo officers on separate space stations and maybe online dating has its benefits after all.

💜 Harry Poppins | E | 33k | April 2019 | strangers to lovers, executive Louis, nanny Harry, no fantasy or magical elements, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, smut | Where Louis’ best friends pass away and he finds himself with an instant family. After nanny number six is summarily dismissed Louis is at his wit’s end, that is until an unusual man arrives on their doorstep. Harry Styles is like nothing any of them have ever encountered before, and perhaps, exactly what they’ve been looking for all along.

💜 My One And Only (Desire) | E | 500 words | March 2019 | established relationship, edging, spring, smut | Where Harry is his, only his, and Louis belongs to Harry just as completely. They consume each other, in life, in love, in every way two people can.

💜 Take Me Down Slow (Don’t Let Me Go) | E | 27k | March 2019 | ABO, omega/omega, omega Louis, omega Harry, jealous Harry, possessive Harry, heat, scents, snowed in, ski resort, foot massages, smut | Where Louis wants to find the right kind of partner to love, Niall hates snowboarding, Liam wants to settle down, Harry is really good with his hands, and mother nature could be the thing that changes everything.

💜 Soup of the Day | E | 20k | Feb 2019 | strangers to lovers, Chicago, chef Louis, customer harry, Louis has a minor injury, Harry nurses him back to health, candles, Harry carries Louis around a lot, Louis is Harry’s baby, The Princess Bride references, hurt/comfort, massage, baths, smut | Where Louis and Niall are chefs, Chicago is windy, and cracking the big time is harder than they ever imagined. But when a mysterious man starts grading Louis' soups by leaving little piles of rocks, could it be just the thing they need to get them on the road to success?

💜 The Bet | E | 2.5k | Jan 2019 | friends to lovers, theatre, cat ears, cat tail, Louis in lycra, bets, Louis puts on a show, smut | Where Louis misjudges Harry's ability to do TLC's Waterfall rap and finds himself having to put on a one-man show for his (very appreciative) one-man audience.

💜 Heat | E | 2.5k | Jan 2019 | friends to lovers, outback Australia, it’s hot, really hot, banter, flirting, smut | Where drinking beer in a blow-up pool, in a backyard, in stupidly hot temperatures, in outback Australia should be ridiculous, and it would be, if Louis didn't have a curly-haired workmate to keep him company.

💜 Whisper The Wind | E | 37k | strangers to lovers, London is grey, Australia is not, Byron Bay, surfing, Louis and Niall are accountants, Harry and Liam run a surf school, BDSM, outdoor sex, smut | Where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

💜 The Clock Strikes (series) | E | 20k | homeless Harry, rich Louis, strangers to lovers, Harry is 18, Louis is 21, christmas, new years, tooth rotting fluff, romance, Harry is Louis’ baby, Louis spoils Harry, outdoor sex, smut | Where Louis needs someone to love, Harry needs a miracle, and sometimes, wishes really do come true.

💜 The Prince Of Light | E | 36k | fantasy, soulmates, soulbonds, strangers to lovers, garden fairies, Louis is an au pair, Harry isn’t from around here, light bondage, dom/sub undertones, magical sex, masturbation, smut | Where Harry turns up in Louis’ backyard and turns his world upside down. A tale of soulmates across parallel universes, the sun and the moon, magic and destiny.

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Sketch (M)

SUMMARY: After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to the face — and she's so much more than what he's dreamt of.

GENRE/WARNINGS: Soulmate!AU, Artist!Jungkook; filled with tooth rotting fluff and smut. Seriously, Jungkook is a sweetheart.

WORDS: 9.6k.

A/N: This was actually the first fic I wrote that was pretty lengthy. Also -- gguk is my weakness. Enjoy! xx.

For as long as he could remember, Jungkook knew who his soulmate was. From the time he was ten until now he knew that the person he was supposed to be with was out there, patiently waiting for him to come to them with open arms and a heart filled with nothing but love. Ever since he was little he would always dream of the same girl; long flowing hair, big doe eyes that seemed to glimmer with happiness, and the brightest smile he's ever seen. Every other night he would dream of her, the girl aging along with him as he grew older, and it wasn't until he was fifteen did he finally start to record the dreams. With his pencil and art pad, he'd sketch out the beautiful face, hoping to find her one day. But as the years went on, he had no such luck.

Now being almost twenty-six Jungkook is finding it harder and harder to stay positive about the situation, the man convinced that the woman he sketches is just a figment of his imagination, that she's just a fantasy he can only wish for – but little does he know that the universe works in mysterious ways. When the stars align and those in charge of fate decide that soulmates are ready to meet, it finally happens.  

And for Jungkook it's sooner than he thinks.  

The warm summer breeze whips past the brunette as he strolls down the sidewalk, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands as he peers around at his surroundings. People littered the sidewalks, different passerby's and pedestrians hurriedly walking to wherever it was they needed to be. Conversations flitter past the man as he crosses the street, a bright smile forming on his face when he spots his friend sitting comfortably underneath the tree in the park, a shout leaving his lips as he finally reaches him.  

"Taehyung!"  

Jungkook beams at the man, making his friend smile back in return. Scooting over so that Jungkook has a place to sit, Taehyung places his guitar aside as Jungkook plops down next to him.  

"Hey man," he greets, nodding. "How've you been?"  

Jungkook shrugs, placing his coffee down on the grass as he slides his backpack off his shoulders.  

"I've been alright," he says casually. "There's been better days."  

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, the man turning back towards his guitar. Silence falls over the pair then and Jungkook takes the time to open his bag, finger instantly digging for the pad he always carried around with him before placing it in his lap. Grabbing a pencil from one of the pockets he's opening up to the last page he had stopped working on, the brunette instantly shading into the paper. From beside him Taehyung peers curiously over his friend's shoulder, a sad smile forming on his lips when he catches sight of the drawing.  

"Still drawing her?" He asks, and Jungkook nods, lips pursing as he continues shading in details of her hair.  

"Yeah," he says, distantly. "She gets more and more beautiful every time."  

An unknown look crosses Taehyung's face then, the man glancing at his friend with something that could've been labeled as concern as he sighs. He lets his fingers strum over the strings of his guitar as he watches Jungkook draw details on the unknown girl's eyes, the musician cocking his head to the side as he studies the picture.  

"Can I ask you a question?"  

"You just did," Jungkook says, throwing a smirk over his shoulder as Taehyung frowns.  

"I'm being serious," he says quietly, and Jungkook pauses his shading, turning his attention towards his friend.  

"Go ahead."  

Pursing his lips, Taehyung leans back against the tree as he peers down at the drawing, genuine curiosity filling his body now.  

"How can you be so sure that this girl is the one for you?"  

The question makes Jungkook blink, his lips parting as he inhales sharply. He knew how his friends felt about his fascination with the girl in his dreams, he knew that they had weekly discussions of the brunette's fascination with this so-called 'dream girl' -- but he didn't care. In Jungkook's mind he was destined to be with this woman. It didn't matter how long it took for him to find her, he was convinced that she was the one for him.  

"Honestly?" He begins, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the bark of the tree. "I've been dreaming of this girl since I was ten years old, Tae, that has to mean something."  

Taehyung hums in acknowledgement, the musician's head nodding as he looks straight ahead.  

"Yeah," he muses. "But it could also be something you just made yourself believe, you know. Sometimes the mind plays tricks on you."  

Jungkook frowns then, the man turning his head to look over at his friend. Taehyung is motionless, the raven-haired man idly staring off in the distance, and Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh. Turning back to his pad, he stares down at the face on the paper. His eyes scan over every feature, the woman's face seemingly haunting him as her shining eyes and bright smile look back at him – the simple sight of her face on the paper making his heart beat wildly in his chest.  

He knew Taehyung was right in a way, it was a completely crazy thought – but he was too afraid to risk anything. He was too deep into his feelings now that he knew there was no going back. He was finally going to put a name to the face if it was the last thing he did.  

With his backpack slung over his shoulders and a snapback adorning his head, Jungkook walks down the crowded city street as he makes his way towards his work. The early morning rush always seemed to stress others out, the majority of passerby's scrambling to get to their offices or destinations in time, but Jungkook found a certain calmness in the mayhem. While others took long strides and sharp turns, the artist took his time; he walked at a leisurely pace, always making sure to take in his surroundings as he walked to the his studio. He appreciated the scene around him, relishing in the bright vibrant colors of the summer flowers. Sometimes he would even sit outside of the studio and just paint and draw the different scenarios; whether it was a couple walking down the street or the way the flowers swirled in the midst of the breeze from the summer wind.  

Letting a small smile grace his lips, Jungkook pulls the door to the studio open, the air conditioned room hitting him right away as he steps inside. On the first floor is the training area, various easels scattered in a circle around the center, some of the seats occupied while others were still vacant, the remaining students having not arrived yet. Nodding politely towards those who were seated, Jungkook sends them a smile before walking towards the receptionist desk.  

"Morning, Soo," he greets the girl behind the desk. He watches as she looks up at him, a bright smile on her lips as she nods towards him.  

"Morning, Kookie," she says cheerily, making the artist chuckle.  

"Do you have to call me that?" He asks playfully, and Soohyuk nods with a grin.  

"Of course," she retorts. "It suits you. Also, I just like seeing you annoyed."  

Shaking his head at the girl, Jungkook chuckles once more before he's signing in. Sending one more smile towards his friend, he turns to walk towards the staircase leading to the second level when he collides with the person behind him. Instantly a box drops and different pencils, markers, and paint brushes were scattered along the floor, the artists eyes widening as he drops to the floor to pick up the stranger's items.  

"I'm so sorry!" He apologizes, which makes the stranger giggle nervously, their body bending down to swat his hands away.  

"It's okay!" A bell-like voice responds, and Jungkook lifts his head to see who he had knocked into to. The moment their eyes meet, the world feels like it stopped.

Jungkook feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, his ears ringing painfully as his gaze falls on your face. The long flowing hair, the big doe eyes, that beautiful smile that seemed to light up the whole room... It was you – the girl he had dreamt of since the first time he could remember. Your eyes widen as you glance at him, your head tilting the side; a feeling of remembrance fills you, your brain insisting that you know this man – that you had met him before. Silence falls over the pair of you as the two of you stare at one another, both completely in shock by the sight of each other. Your gaze is glued to him, your body completely entranced by the man in front of you, and you don't snap out of your daze until Jungkook finally clears his throat.  

Sending you a shy smile, the man gathers your things off of the floor and places them back in the box before standing upright once again.  

"Sorry about that," he apologizes again. Holding his hand out towards you, he gestures for you to take it so he can help you up off the ground. "I'm Jungkook."  

You take his hand without hesitation, your eyes widening once more when you feel the sting of a magnetic shock travel from his hand to yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he pulls you to your feet. You know he feels it too as he stares down at your joined hands, a quiet giggle falling from your mouth as you shyly look away from him.  

"I'm (Y/N)," you murmur, and Jungkook beams.  

"(Y/N)…"  

The way your name falls from his lips makes you blush something fierce, your hand slipping out of his hand as you nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Jungkook feels like he's on cloud nine, the artist not being able to keep the smile off of his face as he nods in the direction of the circle of easels.  

"So," he clears his throat. "Are you taking the class here or...?"  

Immediately turning your head so you can look at him, you nod with a grin.  

"My first class is today," you confirm. "I was just about to sign in when you, uh – yeah."  

Jungkook smiles sheepishly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away bashfully.  

"I really am sorry," he says earnestly, and you shake your head.  

"It's not a big deal," you reassure him. "Don't worry about it."  

Another wave of silence falls over you two then, both of you shuffling in half embarrassment half nervousness before you finally decide to break it.  

"So, are you learning here too?"  

Jungkook smirks, shoulders shrugging as he grasps the box in his hands.  

"Not exactly," he chuckles. "This is actually my studio."  

Your eyes widen at his words, shock running through your body as it registers in your head that 'Oh shit, this is my future boss...' and you find yourself silently freaking out, your body bending at the waist as you bow towards him.  

"I'm so sorry," you apologize quickly. "I had no idea...!"  

Jungkook can't help but laugh, the man shaking his head as he holds up a hand.

"You don't have to bow, (Y/N)," he says. "I'm just a normal person who owns a studio. Nothing too fancy."  

You flush at his words, a hand nervously raking through your locks as you turn to look at the rest of the class. The seats that had been empty before were now completely filled, one empty chair left as it waited for you to occupy it. Turning back towards Jungkook you let a sad smile grace your lips as you nod in the direction of the classroom.  

"I guess I should go sit down," you say, and Jungkook can't help but let his face slightly falter at that – but he understands.  

Reluctantly the artist nods, his arms outstretching so he can hand over your box of materials, and just as you turn to walk away from him he's calling out to you, his voice making you bite back a smile.  

"I'll see you around, yeah?"  

Looking at him over your shoulder, you nod your head with a grin.  

"Absolutely."  

"I found her!"  

Taehyung jumps from his spot at the computer desk, the musician's eyes widening as Jungkook bounds through the front door of their shared apartment. The bright smile on the younger's face makes Taehyung blink before he's jumping to his feet, his mouth dropping open as the words finally register in his head.  

"What?" He asks, shellshocked. Jungkook can't help but grin as he grabs a hold of his friend's shoulders and shakes him lightly.  

"I found her, Tae! The girl from my dreams!"  

Taehyung's eyes narrow then, a scrutinizing gaze piercing into his friend as he purses his lips.  

"How can you be so sure?" He asks skeptically, and Jungkook scoffs.  

"I've been dreaming about the same woman for the past twenty-one years, Taehyung. I'm pretty sure I'd know her face."  

Taehyung is still weary, the musician heavily sighing as he prys Jungkook's grip off of him. Running a hand through his hair he takes a seat back on the computer chair, he looks up at his friend with concern.

"And you're sure," he emphasizes the word, giving Jungkook a pointed look. "This is her?"

Jungkook nods wildly, big doe eyes wider than usual as he grins at his friend.

"Positive!" He affirms. "Her name is (Y/N) and she just started taking classes at my studio."

Taehyung hums then, a nod of approval following as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"So she's an artist too, then?" Jungkook nods again.

"Yup!"

Chuckling at his friend, Taehyung leans back against the chair as he smirks.

"Did you get her number?"

Jungkook's face falters at that, his eyebrows creasing as his lips turn into a frown. How could he have forgotten to ask for your number...

"Shit," he curses, causing Taehyung to let out a bark-like laughter.

"You're an idiot," his friend says playfully and Jungkook pouts.

"I was just too excited about the fact that I had found her that I completely forgot about getting her number."

Taehyung shakes his head, the man standing up from the chair so he can pat his friend on the shoulder, an encouraging look on his face as he smiles at him.

“At least you know where she’ll be, though,” he says, making the artist’s face brighten almost immediately.

“I’ll get it from her tomorrow,” Jungkook says cheerfully, nodding at his own words. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The next day Jungkook wastes no time in making his way to work, the artist clearly on a mission as he hurriedly whips past the crowded street, nearly knocking into several people on his way there. He all but hauls the door to the studio open, his gaze flittering around the room before it falls on the beauty he’s looking for -- you. Your head snaps up when you hear the door open, your gaze finding his, and you can’t help but let a massive smile dance across your lips as you watch Jungkook walk over to you.

“Morning, (Y/N),” he greets, and you smile widely at him.

“Morning, Jungkook.”

Seeing your smile in person makes Jungkook’s heart beat wildly in his chest, the simple action from you seemingly being able to rival the brightness of the sun. He can hear his heart beating loudly, the sound ringing in his ears as he takes a seat next to you.

“How was class yesterday?” He asks, and you shrug, crossing one leg over the other as you turn your body towards him.

“It wasn’t easy,” you admit. “I thought that I had known everything there was to art but -- there’s definitely a lot more to it than I presumed.”

Jungkook chuckles at that, his head nodding in affirmation at your words.

“That there is,” he agrees. “It gets easier, though. The first section is always the hardest because there’s just a bunch of information you have to retain and it’s mostly just a pain in the ass.”

His words make you giggle, your gaze dropping to the ground as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. The simple action makes Jungkook smile, the artist fighting back to tuck it for you, as he stands up from the chair and adjusts the bag on his shoulder.

“But hey,” he adds, making you look back up to him. “If you ever get stuck on anything and need someone to guide you, I’m always here to help.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you nod before standing up as well.

“I appreciate that,” you say quietly, and Jungkook shrugs.

“It’s the least I can do,” he rubs the back of his neck out of nervousness, his stomach fluttering. “I could give you my number? So whenever you need help just give me a buzz and I’ll be glad to give you some sort of assistance.”

You can’t help but let another wide smile grace your lips, your head nodding at his words as you reach down to grab your phone from the pocket of your jeans.

“I’d like that,” you say quietly, making Jungkook beam.

A few more words were exchanged before he takes your phone and punches in his number, handing the device back to you with a smile. As the two of you bid one another goodbye, Jungkook can feel his heart pounding in his chest, an overflowing feeling of happiness filling him up from head to toe as he climbs the stairs to his office on the second level.

The next few weeks fly by in a crazy whirlwind.

Jungkook finds himself swarmed with different projects as he locks himself up in his office, dozens of empty coffee cups and crumpled of paper scattered around him as he lets out a groan of frustration. He had been requested to come up with a piece that they could display at the gala happening in two months time but nothing was good enough for him. No matter how many times he finished a piece he was never satisfied, the artist groaning in distaste before he’s hurling the crumpled up ball against the wall and starting over. That had been the process for the past two weeks -- and Jungkook was sick of it.

His irritated gaze falls on the easel in front of him, eyes swooping over the multicolored panel as he observes his piece; the clear-blue ocean looked dull to him, lacking any sort of dimension he had done before. The seagulls flying high in the sky were too child-like, and the clouds looked too puffy for his liking. He was annoyed, he was stressed, and he sure as hell wasn’t satisfied with anything he was creating. Gripping the paper on the easel, Jungkook rips it off and crumples it up, another useless piece being thrown towards the trashcan.

His arms fold at his desk as his head rests on them, a heavy sigh falling from his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut, an action that he always did when he got stressed or angry. Thousands of thoughts were flying through his mind, the artist getting lost in them, and he doesn’t even realize that there’s another person in the room until there’s a knock at his door, a murmur falling from his lips as he mumbles into his arms.

“What?” He asks, and he hears a snicker from the doorway.

“There’s someone who’d like to see you, Kookie,” the sweet voice of Soohyuk fills his ears and the artist groans, the nickname making his head spin.

“Tell them to come back later.”

Soohyuk clicks her tongue, the receptionist walking towards him and putting her hands on his desk, making Jungkook lift his head.

“Soo, I’m serio--”

He stops short when he catches sight of a silhouette standing behind the woman, a sheepish smile forming on your lips as you timidly wave at him. Jungkook stares at you, eyes blinking rapidly, before he’s nodding. Sliding his arms off of his desk he stands up out of the chair and walks from behind his desk, his gaze completely locked on you. He doesn’t seem to notice the knowing look on his receptionist’s face as she winks at you before turning to the staircase.

“I suppose I should leave the two of you alone, then,” she says, knowingly. You flush at her tone, your gaze falling towards the ground as your feet scuff against the floor.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, his gaze solely on you as he watches you look around his office space. Different paintings and artwork littered the walls; each piece ranging from landscapes to portraits, and you’re completely in awe by them. The bright colors, the outlines, the dimension he puts into his work -- you’re almost taken aback by how incredible all of his pieces were. Slowly you feel your feet start to walk towards the painting of the ocean, your fingertips gliding along the brassy outlining of the frame as your gaze settles on the artwork. A small smile forms on your lips as you admire it, a breathy ‘incredible’ falling from them. You didn’t even notice Jungkook had walked behind you until he spoke, his voice startling you slightly.

“You like it?” He asks quietly, and you turn to look at him with a bright smile.

“I love it,” you affirm. Your words make Jungkook blush, the artist bashfully looking at you with a grin.

“I painted that while I was staying with my parents in Busan,” he informs. “They have a house right along the coastline and my room is facing the water, so I took advantage of the view and decided to capture it.”

He smiles at the memory, his eyes closing as he remembers the sweet smell of the salty air and the cawing of the seagulls. You watch as he smiles, your head tilting to the side as your gaze runs over the features of his face. The majority of him was sharp; from his high forehead to the arch of his eyebrows, from his eyebrows to the tip of his nose and leading down to his jaw. His eyes held warmth, his lips -- despite being quite thin -- looked incredibly soft. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized every time you looked at him, the man appearing as if he was sculpted by the gods -- the man looking like the human version of Adonis.

Blinking up at him, you watch as his gaze falls onto the other paintings, your own gaze staying locked on his face. You watch as his tongue rolls across his lips, a small smile forming on them as you let out a dreamy sigh.

“You’re beautiful.”

The words slip out of your mouth without even thinking, a hand automatically clasping over it as your eyes widen. Jungkook’s head snaps over to look at you, a playful smirk replacing his smile as he cocks an eyebrow. Panic automatically fills your body as you drop your hand to wave them wildly in front of him.

“I mean your art,” you correct yourself. “Your art is beautiful.”

Embarrassment is flowing through you and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you walk away from him, hurriedly standing on the opposite side of the room as you pretend to look at his other work. Jungkook’s smirk never falters from his face as he stares at you, a soft chuckle escaping him as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Did you come up here because you needed something?” He asks, making you turn back to look at him. “Or did you come up here to tell me I’m beautiful?”

His words makes you groan in embarrassment, the artist laughing out loud when you cover your face with your hands. You can hear his footsteps nearing you, two fingers immediately placing under your chin as he lifts your head to look at him. A soft smile is on his lips now, big doe eyes staring back at you with warm brown hues.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I think you’re beautiful too, (Y/N).”

Another wave of heat floods to your face, your head turning to the side as you bury your face in your hair. Jungkook lets out another chuckle, his head shaking at how cute you are, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as you finally lift your head to look at him.

“I need your help,” you murmur and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow.

“With?”

“I’m really bad with remembering dates and there’s a test at the end of the month based on different artwork from various time periods and I was wondering if--”

“Consider it done,” Jungkook cuts you off making you look at him in shock, your lips parting as you stare at him.

“Wait -- seriously?”

Jungkook smirks, his shoulder shrugging in a nonchalant way.

“Yeah,” he says casually. “Didn’t I tell you to come find me if you ever needed help?”

You smile at that, your teeth sinking softly into your bottom lip as you tear your gaze from his. Shyly you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and nod.

“You did,” you affirm. “I just didn’t expect you to say yes, to be honest. I know you’re busy and I didn’t want to bother you --”

“You could never bother me,” he butts in, and you can’t help but flush at his words. Cautiously Jungkook reaches forward to grab your hand, the sparks that you had felt from the first time you had met him were back and stronger than ever, an invisible bolt igniting both yours and his hands as you look back up into his eyes.

Smiling at him, you nod again, causing Jungkook to grin and squeeze your hand before dropping it.

“Alright,” he claps. “Let’s get to studying.” 

For the next three weeks Jungkook made sure to take time out his schedule to help you with your test. In between yours and his schedules the two of you would walk to the sandwich shop down the street where you’d eat your lunch together and he’d make sure to quiz you on the different paintings and sculptures that were sure to be on your test. You were incredibly thankful for all of the help was giving to you, the man teaching you more and more things every day. He was patient with your learning, the artist always making sure to give you enough time so you could collect your thoughts and decide which answer is the right one before you said it. You will admit, however, sometimes it’s a bit distracting when the man watches you write down your answer, his gaze making you shift nervously. He was intense, passion leaking from almost anything he does, and sometimes you’re completely enthralled by him that you lose your train of thought and just freeze up -- which is exactly what happened just now.

The two of you were sat comfortably in one of the tables in the quaint shop, both of you eating and working diligently as Jungkook helps you study. Your test is at the end of the week and you had to admit that you were completely stressing about it. When you’re at home and you test yourself on the material, you end up flaking out and telling yourself that you don���t it, that you’re going to fail. But when you’re with Jungkook, the answers come easily to you -- something which you could never understand considering you were always a near flustered mess around him.

“Alright,” he claps, snapping you out of your daze. Placing the last picture of the art piece onto the table, he nods towards it as he grabs his sandwich. “Tell me what period it’s from and who the artist was first.”

You glance down at the statue, the familiarity of seeing it a dozen times before automatically flittering in your brain as you chew thoroughly on your food.

“It’s from the Renaissance period -- well, Italian Renaissance if you want to be exact,” you grin. “And Michelangelo made it.”

Jungkook nods, taking another bite of his food before he speaks again.

“Where is it located?”

You think for a moment, taking a swig from your drink, before finally answering him.

“Florence?”

Jungkook grins, nodding again as he reaches forward to squeeze your hand in encouragement.

“Good!” He assures your uncertainty, giving you a gentle look. “Don’t doubt yourself, (Y/N). You’ve got this in the bag.”

You smile at his words, looking down at your food shyly as you chew quietly. Jungkook leans his elbows on the table, his body moving forward as his face nears yours, a bright smile dancing on his lips as he looks at you.

“Now,” he says. “When was it made?”

You make the mistake of lifting your head up, your gaze meeting his, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. His face is so close to yours, the warmth from his breath fanning against your skin as he looks at you expectantly. You can feel a nervous lump form along the ridges of your esophagus and you swallow thickly as you hold his gaze. A piece of hair falls in your face and you raise your hand to move it when Jungkook reaches forward, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek as he tucks the loose piece of hair behind your ear. The action makes you flush, heat pooling over your face as you feel your body heat up. Jungkook is smiling softly at you, his thumb gently stroking against your cheek before he draws back.

Pressing back against the chair, he smirks at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“(Y/N),” he calls out. “When was it made?”

You’re still half dazed from his previous actions, your eyes blinking rapidly as you try to snap yourself out of it. Your teeth sink softly into the flesh of your bottom lip as you drop your gaze to look at the table.

“Between 1501 and 1504.”

Jungkook grins, clapping his hands in excitement as he nods.

“Perfect!” He cheers. “You’re going to pass with flying colors, beautiful.”

The nickname makes you flush once more, another rise of heat coating your cheeks as you giggle nervously. Jungkook’s gaze is locked on you; your eyes are still avoiding him, your head tilted downward as you look at the marble top of the table. There’s a faint outline of a smile on your face paired with the slight flash of pearly white’s. Your cheeks are tinted a light pinkish almost red color and Jungkook’s eyes weep over every feature that’s visible to him.

It’s only then that it finally hits him that what he’s been meaning to create for the gala in just a month away was right in front of him -- the one thing that made the creative wheels turn in his head for the past twenty-one years...

You.

“I PASSED! I PASSED!”

Your joyful shouts echo around the perimeter of Jungkook’s office as you bound up the stairs, your face literally beaming as Jungkook’s head shoots up to look at you from his desk.

“You passed?!” He asks excitedly, to which you nod.

“100%,” you say proudly. Jungkook beams at you, the artist getting up and out of his chair.

In an instant you feel warm arms wrap around your waist, your feet being lifted up off of the ground as Jungkook happily spins you around. Your laughter mixes with his as you bury your face in his neck, crying out with happiness at your success. Once your feet were back on the ground you drew back from Jungkook to smile up at him, your hands reaching out to grab his.

“Thank you,” you say earnestly, causing Jungkook to grin. “For everything.”

“It was my pleasure,” and he meant it.

Your gaze was locked on his, both of you staring at one another with identical grins as pride beamed from the two of you. Jungkook’s grip on your hands tighten as he pulls you closer, his eyes slipping from yours to look down at your lips, instinctively making him lick his own. Butterflies fluttered wildly in your stomach at the action, your gaze dropping from his face as you look away bashfully. Instead you focus on his desk, your stare falling on his sketchbook. You see the outline of a familiar woman; the doe eyes, wide smile, the long flowing hair... It doesn’t take long for you to realize who it was he was drawing, your mouth falling open as you turn back to look at him.

“Is -- is that me?”

Your finger is pointing towards the portrait and Jungkook’s eyes widen, the artist immediately dropping your hands as he scurries to grab the picture out of your sight. He’s too slow, however, as you beat him to it. The book is laid in your hands, your eyes glued to the woman smiling back at you. You’re speechless -- completely and utterly speechless -- and Jungkook panics, the brunette fisting his hair out of worry as he starts mumbling incoherently.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he mumbles, and you look over at him in worry.

“Jungkook?” You call towards him, but he ignores you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I should have asked for your permission first.”

“Jungkook --”

“God, you must think I’m a stalker or something...”

“Jungkook --”

“Please don’t hate me, I’m sorr --”

His apology is cut off when you set the sketchbook down and grab the back of his neck, successfully bringing his lips to yours. Instantly the artist freezes, his body going rigid as your lips press roughly against his. It takes him a few moments before he finally registers what’s going on before he lets his eyes droop closed, his lips finally starting to respond when you pull back. You’re breathless, your gaze hooded, and you’re letting a small smile grace your lips as you cup his face.

“I’m not mad,” you breathe out. Jungkook’s eyes are still closed, his arms wrapping cautiously around your waist as he leans his forehead against yours.

“You’re not?” He asks, and you giggle.

“Are you kidding?” Gripping his face gently in your hands you make him open his eyes so he can look at you. “It’s fucking beautiful, Jungkook.”

Blinking at your words, his arms tighten around your waist as he stares down at you, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he tries to bite it back.

“You think?” You scoff then, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“Yes!” You yell. “That portrait is single-handedly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, okay? I mean, I don’t personally see myself that way but --”

This time your words are cut off when Jungkook surges forward and crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you fervently. A quiet whimper falls from your lips as you feel yourself being lifted up onto the desk, Jungkook’s mouth moving against yours in a heated kiss. Sliding your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, you let your fingers twist in his chocolate locks, tugging them softly and making Jungkook groan into your mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his grip on you tightening. “You’re beautiful and perfect and --”

“Jungkook,” you draw back, smirking. He frowns at the loss of your lips, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Crowds of people littered around the center of the room as they all circled the piece of art, glasses of champagne in almost every hand as they offhandedly commented about the work in front of them. Others walked off to another section of the gallery, their interests taking them towards a piece that’s more personally inspiring. From your seat on the couch you watch as Jungkook stands at the head of the hall, broad shoulders wrapped in a black suit jacket as he talks to the seekers about his work. You watch as he beams, his gaze falling onto you at the other end of the hall. Lifting his arm up in the air you watch as he subtly calls you over, a grin forming on your face as you push up off of the couch.

You can feel your hair swinging behind you as you walk, your dress flowing in synchronization with it, and you watch as Jungkook’s gaze locks on your form when you manage to squeeze through the crowd.

“This piece is very special to me,” he begins. “It’s based on a very special woman in my life and I wanted everyone to know that. Although the portrait itself is not quite as beautiful as she is --” his eyes drift to you once more, making a soft blush appear on your cheeks. “But it comes fairly close.”

Murmurs amongst the crowd rise up then, several pairs of eyes floating to look at you as Jungkook pulls you into him, the audience’s faces turning into smiles as they watch the artist lean over to kiss your cheek. Bashfully you hid your face in his coat jacket, Jungkook chuckling at your action, before he’s replying his ‘thank you’s’ to the crowd. One by one the group grows smaller and Jungkook tugs you closer into his side as the last woman watches the pair of you with a smile, her hands reaching out to grab yours.

“You’re a lucky young woman,” she comments, making you blush.

“I am,” you agree. A bright smile frames her face then, her eyes drifting towards Jungkook before looking back at you.

“Keep him, honey. He’s worth it.”

You can’t help but grin at her words, your gaze locked on her retreating form as you sigh in content. From above you you can hear Jungkook chuckle, your head turning to look up at him as he grins down at you.

“I’m the lucky one,” he corrects, leaning down to press his lips softly against your cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, baby.”

You flush, burying your face once more in his jacket, your grip on him tightening as you groan.

“Stop making me blush,” you murmur, and Jungkook shakes his head, fingertips dancing softly across your cheek.

“Never.”

By the end of the night your feet are aching and your body is itching to get out of your dress. Jungkook had invited you to stay the night with him at his place, a suggestion that made your heart flutter and your stomach twinge with anticipation, and you definitely weren’t going to pass on that idea. With your hand clasped tightly in his, he pulls you into his apartment, the cool air conditioning hitting you the moment you walk in. The place smells faintly of cinnamon and spice, a comforting sense of home in the quaint apartment.

Dropping your hand, Jungkook gestures towards the hallway, a bright smile on his face.

“Can I show you something?” He asks, and you nod.

Cautiously you follow him down the hallway before he opens a door -- his bedroom door. Once you’re inside he shuts the door behind you and gestures for you to take a seat on the bed, which you graciously do. Immediately you’re slipping off your heels, your legs coming up and folding underneath you as you watch him rummage around. A quiet ‘aha!’ echoes around the room before you see Jungkook pulling out a black leather sketchbook, his tall stature turning around. You can sense his anxiousness from here, a nervous glint in his eyes as he slowly walks to where you’re sitting. Dropping to his knees on the floor, Jungkook sits in front of you as he clutches the book to his chest, nerves completely wracking his body as he licks his lips.

“About twenty-one years ago, I had a dream about a little girl who was my age at the time,” he begins, letting a small smile grace his lips. “She was beautiful; with her long flowing hair, big doe eyes, and a smile that seemed to rival the sun. I would dream of her every night, the same girl each time, and I never understood why -- until now.”

Nodding his head at the book, he gestures for you to open it -- which you did instantly. The sight before you made you gasp.

Pages and pages of the girl are sketched to perfection, your eyes widening when you recognize that smile, the eyes, the hair... All of the pages were coated with sketches of you -- from the time you were little up until now. You were speechless, words not even being thought of as your finger traces along the pencil marks on the page. Jungkook sits at your feet, the artist watching you with curious eyes as he awaits your reaction. You can feel tears seep into the corners of your eyes as the wheels in your head turn, your watery gaze immediately floating to his face as you let the widest smile cross your features.

“You’re him,” you whisper, causing Jungkook’s eyebrows to crease in confusion.

“What?”

Placing his sketchbook to the side, you stand up from the bed and walk to the other side of the room before grabbing your overnight bag. Unzipping it you reach in and fish out what you’re looking for -- your drawing pad. Flipping to the first page, you instantly hold it up to show Jungkook, the artists eyes widening.

“A long time ago, I dreamed of a boy. He was my age and he was beautiful,” you give him a watery smile. “I dreamt of him a lot, too. This is the only time I’ve ever sketched him because after that, the dreams stopped. I thought I was never going to find out who it was but -- I did. It’s you.”

Jungkook can feel tears of realization hit him as he lets the biggest grin spread on his lips, his gaze tearing into yours.

The sketchbook falls from your hands as you walk over to Jungkook, cupping his face as you pull him up to you. Emotions are overflowing both yours and his bodies as your lips find his, His arms wound tightly around you as he pulls you into him, his lips dancing softly with yours as the two of you kiss. A mixture of Jungkook’s minty breath and salt from the tears hits you and you’re sighing in content as you feel him pull away. His gaze is just as watery as yours as he cups your face, his nose gently nuzzling against yours.

“I Found you,” he murmurs, making you beam in happiness.

“You found me.”

Your words are whispered against his lips as he kisses you again, this time both of you are falling onto the soft cushioning of his bed in a frenzied heap. With his arms on either side of your body, Jungkook holds his weight up so he doesn’t crush you as he kisses you. Your fingers are entwined in his chocolate locks, softly tugging at them as you moan quietly against his lips. His lips break from yours then, the slightly flushed flesh kissing a trail down your jawline and to the base of your neck as he softly nibbles on your skin. The action sets your body aflame, electric shocks mixed with embers of fire heating your body up as you close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of Jungkook.

Sliding your hands from his hair, you let them slide underneath his suit jacket, pushing them off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Jungkook’s teeth gently graze along the skin of your clavicle, the artist humming softly against your skin and drawing goosebumps to emit on the flesh. His hand snakes around you as he pulls you up towards him, his fingers grasping the zipper of your dress before he pulls back to look at you.

“May I?” He asks, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Please...”

Immediately he’s dragging the zipper down, your lingerie clad body being revealed to him, and he’s sucking in a harsh breath as the dress falls to the ground. His gaze rakes over your body, his mind mentally memorizing every dip and curve, before he’s smiling down at you.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

His words flitter through the air as his mouth dips back down to travel his lips along your newly revealed form. Your back arches into him when he kisses down the valley between your breasts, a soft moan of his name falling from your lips as he tongues at your flesh. Smirking against your skin, Jungkook lfits his head so he can look at you. Your gaze meets his and it’s like you can feel everything embodying him in that moment. Your hands glide over his broad shoulders before resting on his clothed chest, your fingers beginning to undo every button on his shirt as his lips find yours once more.

Tongues swirl around each other in a heated tango, the taste of him becoming more and more intoxicating as you finally undo the last button, the material coming undone as you slide it down his arms. Break away from his mouth, your gaze falls on his now shirtless torso and you have to bite your lip when you catch sight of his form. Faint shadows of abs adorn his body, the man’s physique a lot more muscular than you had pictured, and you let a smirk form on your lips as you peer back up at him through your eyelashes.

“You tell me I’m beautiful,” you playfully say, poking his cheek. “But have you seen yourself? You’re like a fucking Greek God.”

Your words make Jungkook smirk, the artist swooping back down to kiss you fervently. Lips tangle messily together as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, the flimsy material sliding down your arms and being thrown to the floor as Jungkook’s body rocks down into yours, the friction making both of you moan into one another’s mouths. Flushed lips break from yours as he kisses down your body once more, his mouth kissing over the top of your mounds now before he’s experimentally drawing his tongue out from between his lips and running it over your sensitive bud. Your chest instantly pushes into him, your back arching off of the bed as you mewl his name, silently asking for more -- which Jungkook gladly obliges.

As Jungkook’s mouth works over your breasts, your fingers pluck at his suit pants, nimble fingers undoing the slacks and pushing them down his legs, your feet slipping between so you can pushing them to the ground. Your hand glides along the planes of his chest, fingertips gently grazing his skin as they reach the hem of his briefs. Jungkook twitches underneath your touch, his mouth unclasping itself from your breasts as your hand dips past the hem to wrap around his hardening cock.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, causing you to smirk.

Your palm encloses around his length, fingertips brushing against him as his hips buck into your touch. Jungkook grits his teeth as he raises his head to look at you, his gaze heated and lust driven.

“If you keep doing that I might have to fuck you right now,” he warns, to which you grin.

“Do it,” you challenge. “Make me yours.”

Wasting no time at all, Jungkook’s mouth surges to yours as he pushes himself up so that he’s fully hovering over you. He’s plucking at the material of your panties and sliding them down your legs in record time, his briefs soon following. Sliding a hand down towards your core, he gently glides two digits along your folds, the action drawing a moan and groan from both of you.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he hums against your mouth. “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

You whimper against his mouth, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as you gently rake your nails down his back.

“I’ve been ready for you since I’ve dreamt about you,” you murmur back, and Jungkook growls.

Gripping your hips he’s lining himself up with you before his hand sought out to find yours. Just as his fingers slip between the empty spaces of yours, you feel his cock slide between your folds, your body instantly feeling full as you squeeze his hand. Jungkook’s biting down on your bottom lip and tugging, his tongue soon jutting out to soothe the pain as he fills you up. The feeling of your tight walls around him makes him groan, his grip on your hand tightening as you pant heavily against his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you moan. “Move.”

Instantly obliging to your request, his hips start moving at a slow pace, a rhythm building up as his lips find yours. His free hand reaches down to grab your thigh so he can hook it around his waist, you immediately catching onto his message as you wrap the other around him. The feeling of him inside of you is nothing short of perfect, your eyes snapping shut as his pace increases. You can see stars behind your eyelids, the planets seemingly aligning as he rocks into you. The pace isn’t fast, it’s not slow either, but the depth of his thrusts are enough to make you see stars, his hips aligning upwards as his cock brushes against a spot that makes your toes curl and his name escape your lips. The pick up in volume of your shouts makes Jungkook’s ears perk up, the artist instantly making it so that his cock brushes against that spot every time.

Your nails are raking down his back, angry red lines dancing across his skin as you burying your face in the crook of his neck. Your breathing is ragged, heavy pants escaping you ever now and again, and your hips are lifting up and off the bed to meet his thrusts. You clench around him, making Jungkook groan at the feeling, and you cry out when you feel him press the pad of his thumb against your clit, the action making your hips jolt forward as you murmur into his neck.

“Oh, fuck --! Right there!”

Jungkook’s gritting his teeth at your words, his hand squeezing yours tightly as his thrusts finally start to speed up. His thumb is rubbing harshly at your clit now, figure-eight patterns are being drawn against the sensitive bud as you feel the coil in your lower body start to tighten. Digging your nails into his back, you let a loud cry of ‘Jungkook!’ slip past your lips as you throw your head back, your core tightening around him as you feel your release wash over you. Stars are littered behind your closed eyelids, flashes of white and red dots illuminating the darkness as you come. The feeling of your core tightening around his cock makes Jungkook swear under his breath, his own release washing over him him not soon afters yours did, the artist coming with a low growl of your name.

As your body comes down from your high, you slowly flutter your eyes open, your gaze falling on Jungkook above you. His hair is pushed back off of his face as sweat beads along his forehead, the grip he had on your hand softening as he looks down at you. There’s an unknown emotion glinting in his eyes as he lets a dazed smile grace his lips, the artist burying his face in the crook of your neck as he maneuvers his body so that he’s half laying next to you, half laying on top of you as he gazes down at your face. Lifting his hand he brushes your hair out of your face as he gives you a sweet smile.

“You know,” he muses, resting his chin on your chest. “I never thought I’d see the day where I finally get to meet the girl from my dreams.”

You grin, mirroring his actions and sweeping his fringe out of his face.

“Me either,” you admit, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “But I’m glad I did.”

Jungkook beams, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“Me too, beautiful.”

The smell of bacon cooking on the stove fills your nose as you loosely wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck, your lips softly pressing against his as you kiss him. Humming against your mouth, he grips your hips and lifts you on top of the counter, his hands prying your legs apart so he can stand between them. Lazy, languid kisses are being exchanged as breakfast cooks, Jungkook’s tongue rolling against yours as the two of you melt into one another. You would’ve completely forgot about your surroundings had it not been for the intrusive voice coming from the doorway.

“You know,” a voice muses. “People eat there.”

Breaking away from your mouth, Jungkook grins past you as his gaze settles on a sleepy Taehyung leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he eyes the two of you.

“Oh shut up,” the artist scoffs. “You do this with Soohyuk all the damn time.”

Taehyung flushes then, the mention of his girlfriend making the musician bashfully look away as Jungkook laughs. Gripping your hips, he helps you down from the counter before you finally turn towards the boy leaning against the wall. A bright smile forms on your face as you wave your hand at him.

“Tae,” Jungkook cuts in, wrapping his arms around your waist. “This is (Y/N) -- or as you might know, the girl from my dreams.”

Taehyung’s mouth flies open when he catches sight of your face, his eyes widening as he gapes at you. You giggle quietly, pressing back into Jungkook’s arms as Taehyung splutters a response.

“Holy shit,” he says, completely shell-shocked. “It’s really you.”

You beam happily, shrugging your shoulders.

“In the flesh.”

Taehyung gawks for a few more moments, the musician trying to wrap his tired mind around the fact that his best friend had most certainly found the girl he’s been dreaming about since he was nine years old. Shaking his head, he grumbles to himself as he walks over towards the coffee pot.

“Maybe there is such a thing as a soulmate after all...”

His words make both you and Jungkook turn to look at each other, identical smiles on both of your faces as he leans his forehead against yours.

“I’d say there is,” Jungkook murmurs, and you nod, grinning back at him.

“Absolutely."

a ghost’s melody

searching for a quiet place to study, you stumble across a seemingly abandoned library and recital hall. when you discover that you’re not as alone in there as you thought and begin to fall for the mysterious boy playing the piano, you start to wish you believed in ghosts before.

pairing: ghost!pianist!taehyung x reader

warnings: character death (not main, except for tae who’s already a ghost lol), slight angst, some cursing, kinda heated makeout session, sfw (PG-13)!

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 4.3k+

listen to: claire de lune and adagio for strings

a/n: first fanfic on here lol i hope it isn’t trash & pls enjoy loves!! xx

Kim’s Library and Recital Hall

At least that’s what you thought was written on the battered storefront. The building’s exterior was aged — the faded letters were peeling, the glass windows were dusty with years of negligence, the copper door handle was rusted from the elements, and the black-painted wood was chipping at the corners.

The store was a perfect match amongst the other ones along the deserted street. It was so ordinarily fitting that anyone could have easily passed it. However, it happened to be exactly what you were looking for — a quiet place to study and somewhere to potentially spend the night since your roommate decided to let you know at the last minute that her and her boyfriend would be in your shared dorm for the night.

With a small shrug, you moved towards the door and attempted to push it open. After a fourth push (that was more tiring than you’d like to admit), the old door finally creaked open. Surprisingly, dust didn’t meet your eyes as you thought it would, and with a brief inspection of the interior, you noticed that it was oddly clean — a stark contrast from its outer appearance. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that someone was diligently taking care of this place.

Paying it no mind, you moved further into the old store, basking in the silence and mildly soothing aura. The music-themed decorations and portraits of deceased musicians reminded you of your brother, and the quietness was a peaceful contrast from your hectic dorm (and, somehow, your campus library).

Before choosing a desk to work on, you checked your phone for the time.

4:37 PM

Nice, you thought. You should be able to get a few hours of work in while the sun is still up. Hopefully this place still has electricity or candles laying around. You sat down at a large wooden desk close to the storefront and pulled out your textbooks and papers, slowly beginning your studying.

You studied your notes in pure silence for 15 minutes when you heard a noise, but it was too quiet for you to distinctly make out what it was. It sounded like a scuffle, almost as if someone was walking but stopped abruptly. You turned and looked around carefully — maybe this place wasn’t as abandoned as you thought.

After looking around for a few moments and not noticing anything else, you returned to your books, although you paid much more attention to the pepper spray sitting in the pocket of your bag. Once twenty minutes passed, you slightly relaxed and hoped it was just a rodent. With a heavy sigh, you stood up from the desk and stretched, figuring that you could take a break and walk around.

With your phone in hand (and pepper spray in the other), you walked away from the desk and into a random aisle of books. You explored the various titles, noting that you hardly recognized any of them. It didn’t take long for you to realize this store was probably much older than you thought, considering that the most recent titles and portraits were from the late 1800s.

As you explored more aisles, you kept thinking of your brother and how much he would love this place you found. Yoongi always loved music and he never failed to humbly show off his natural talent at it. He once tried to teach you how to play the piano; unfortunately, you were too impatient and annoyed that you didn’t get it right away to ever succeed.

You were wrapped in your thoughts as you aimlessly walked around, now only thinking about how you would love to show your older brother this place. Suddenly, you found yourself at the entrance of a hall, and you stare in awe at the large grand piano sitting at the end. Despite its old age, it looked incredibly taken care of. The black paint was flawless and shined in the low sunlight, not a single chip in sight, and the ivory keys glimmered. You were about to walk towards the enchanting instrument when you heard the floor creak.

You froze in your tracks. That creak did not sound like a mouse, and you definitely didn’t hear anyone else enter this place after you. You tore your gaze away from the piano and turned around, your hand gripping your pepper spray. Weaving through bookshelves towards the table with your belongings, you cautiously looked for the source of the noise. But just as you turn the corner, you hear a gentle melody ring through the air.

Usually, this is the time where you would run. Or, if you were the character in a horror movie, the audience would be screaming at you to leave the store to avoid a tragic death.

But you didn’t want to run. Not because you found potential death exciting or because you wanted to piss off your imaginary viewers. But because the melody that was playing was the same one your brother spent months playing over and over again to perfect. It became so familiar to you in your home that you always associated it with him.

With a rapidly beating heart, you all but ran back to the empty recital hall. The volume increased as you neared the hall, and you held your breath as you finally approached the open doors.

“Yoon-” your whisper was caught in your throat as you made eye contact with a ghostly man. His face was devoid of any emotion, eyebags dark and defined, skin tone ghostly pallor, and eyes sullen and tainted with agony. Yet, he was beautiful. He had round feline eyes, defined jaw and cheekbones, full lips, and dark hair that fell elegantly on his forehead.

You waited as he continued playing the piece, knowing exactly when the end approached due to months of listening to it courtesy of your older brother. As the mystery man hit the last note, he looked back up at you, shock evident in his features.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his deep voice throwing you off guard.

“Y-yes, I am,” you started, finding yourself extremely nervous in his presence. You awkwardly shuffled your feet as you rambled, “I’m so sorry for intruding. I thought this place was completely abandoned, and I had no idea you were here. I’ll get going, so sorry again.”

With that, you turned to run back to your bag and get out. But he moved and grabbed your wrist at an unnaturally fast pace, and you gasped at how cold his fingers were on your warm skin. Goosebumps prickled along your arm as you looked up at him in shock and confusion.

He let go of you with a sheepish apology. “It’s just… it’s been a while since anyone has come by. You don’t have to leave,” he said, hastily adding, “unless you want to, of course! I cannot force you to stay if you do not wish to.”

A soft smile spread at your lips. This man was not nearly as cold as he looked or felt. His emotionless eyes seemed hopeful and his mouth was fixed in a boxy smile. With hope that this was fate of some sort, you told him, “I would love to stay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Me?” the ghostly man pointed to himself, oddly shocked at the question.

You nodded, adding with a small laugh, “I don’t see anyone else here who could answer my question.”

He breathed out a laugh as he answered, “Taehyung. And you?”

“Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

He grinned at the way you said his name, and continued, “What brings you here, Y/N?”

“Ah,” you nodded and propped your arms up on the table you two were sitting at. “Noisy dorm halls, librarians who don’t care about enforcing quiet rules, and a horny roommate. You?”

His smile grew at your brutally honest answer. He hesitated as he answered, “I live here. I take care of everything.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

Your mouth parted. “Are you Kim Taehyung. As in a Kim of Kim’s Library and Recital Hall?” you joked, relieved that he found your reference amusing.

“Yes, I am Kim Taehyung. I’m relieved you find that interesting,” he responded. You grinned at the way he answered, his tone and diction captivatingly formal.

“Well, you’ve done an excellent job maintaining the interior. The outside though… that could use a bit of help,” you admitted honestly, to which he laughed heartily at. “Do you get much business?” you asked cautiously after he stopped laughing.

He shrugged, the same boxy smile still on his face. “Not much, but it’s alright. The silence is peaceful.”

You nodded thoughtfully, sensing there was more to his answer but deciding not to push it. “It is very peaceful here, and if you ever need some help around here, I’ve got more free time than I’d like to admit.”

Taehyung laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll consider it,” he responded genuinely, his voice growing softer for a second. “I’ll have to warn that working here isn’t as great as it may seem. It’s quite boring.”

“Pfft,” you shook your head, “boring? With the piano skills you have? I could spend all day listening to you play while I dust or shit like that.”

He basked in your ability to speak freely and jokingly with him, and at that moment he gathered the courage to ask the question that was lingering on his mind ever since you made eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you run away when you first saw me?”

Your gaze faltered for a second, but a small smile returned to your face as you answered honestly, “I was going to run, but the piece you were playing reminded me of my brother Yoongi.”

A brief flash of shock passed on his face, luckily unnoticed by you as you continued your story.

“He used to play it so much, and it felt like fate to hear it again in this place,” you paused, looking back up at Taehyung with a sheepish smile and glassy eyes. “You see, as I walked around, I kept on thinking of how much Yoongi would love this place. Books and sheet music and portraits of musicians and silence. It’s just so so perfect for him. But, as much as I want to, I can never show him this place.”

“Why?”

“Yoongi died 3 years ago.”

[you]

goodnight yoongi. sleep well! i know you’ll do great at your performance tomorrow! mom and i will be waiting for you at the end !!

p.s. seokjin is invited to dinner next week ;)

[best/worst brother ever]

goodnight Y/N. thank you :]. treat me to some lamb skewers after?

p.s. you can text him yourself

[you]

of course, anything you want !!

sleep now, it’s already 3 am

p.s. why would i when i have you? :)

[best/worst brother ever]

ok, mom

[you]

>:(

When you turned your phone off to sleep that night, you didn’t realize that would be the last conversation you would ever have with your older brother.

The house was silent when you received the phone call.

Min Yoongi died in an accident on the way to the recital hall. A drunk driver hit his car, killing him and his friend and roommate, Kim Seokjin. The doctors did everything they could, but he suffered from too much blood loss...

You felt empty. Quiet tears escaped you as you sat in the passenger seat while your mother frantically drove to the hospital. The fresh bouquet of flowers you bought early in the morning to congratulate Yoongi on another performance well done was sitting in the backseat, the bright colors mocking your misery. Labored breaths left you as you ran to his hospital room, and you struggled to breathe when you saw his still body on the bed.

The doctor's solemn words drowned in the background as you fell to your knees. Your hands clutched Yoongi’s in hopes that he would reassuringly squeeze them again and wake up to say that it was just an elaborate prank. But he never did.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Taehyung whispered, offering a hand, which you gratefully took.

You shrugged, responding while wiping your wet eyes, “It’s ok. It was 3 years ago, and there’s really nothing to be sorry about. I’m not even sure why I told you.” You spoke honestly, which was odd since you barely knew Taehyung. For some reason, you felt as if you could trust him with anything.

“So what about you?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Tell me about you. All about Kim Taehyung,” you finished with a gentle smile, your smaller hand still in his larger one.

“Well, I am 25 years old, a pianist as you saw, I grew up on my family’s farm before I moved to the city to study music with my uncle, and I eventually inherited the place we’re currently in,” he answered, his boxy smile growing as he told you more about himself.

“Wow,” you said, shocked at how much he told you despite knowing you for a short period of time. But you technically did the same.

“How did you like growing up on a farm?” you asked curiously, your hand unconsciously tightening your grip on his.

His eyes lit up as he replied, “It was peaceful. I loved the animals and spending time with my grandmother. The village was nice, too. My friends were always a few steps away,” he paused for a moment, “but when I started to play the piano that my uncle gifted me, I found my new passion: music.”

“So you eventually moved to the city to study music?”

He nodded excitedly in confirmation. “It was hard leaving my parents and grandmother,” he added. “But I tried to go back whenever I could.”

“It’s difficult leaving your family,” you agreed, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, Taehyung expertly carried the conversation.

“So Y/N, how old are you?” he asked, his boxy smile not fading for even a second.

You grinned and responded with the same tone he had earlier. “Well, I am 20 years old, I study Literature and Biology at the National University, I grew up in a city with my mom and older brother, and I found this place by complete chance.”

“You’re more interesting than I thought, Y/N,” Taehyung grinned. “And complete chance? What does that mean?”

“Well,” you started, “I was just thinking about how much I hated my roommate and dorm floor, and I somehow stumbled upon this completely deserted street. To be honest, I don’t even know where I am right now. Yet I’m still here talking to you, is that crazy or foolish of me?”

“No.” His left hand reached up to move a strand of hair away from your face. Your breath hitched and body froze as his cool fingers met your warm skin. “It’s not crazy or foolish at all,” he finished.

You melted under his haunting gaze, and you didn’t even notice how the sun had fallen outside and how the lights automatically flickered on.

Five hours.

Or at least it felt like five hours of you and Taehyung simply talking. At this point, you were really hoping he wasn’t planning on murdering you because you honestly have never met a guy this perfect. It seemed like he didn’t have a single flaw!

With each conversation and joking remark, you found yourself moving closer and closer to him until you two were thigh to thigh. Your denim jeans met the expensive material of his trousers, and both of your warm hands were covered by his much colder ones (something you chose to chalk down to iron deficiency or other potential medical conditions).

To merely say you were growing feelings for Taehyung would be an understatement — you were falling in love.

Eventually, he offered to show you around the store, considering you only really looked at the front. His hand around yours, he led you towards the back, where there were less bookshelves and more music-oriented displays. There were encased instruments, very old photos, worn sheet music, and more portraits.

“My uncle loved collecting portraits,” Taehyung said when he caught you staring at one of Jung Hoseok. “He said it was like always having a memory of someone, even if they passed.”

“Your uncle was right. Although I think pictures and a camera may be cheaper,” you teased, unaware of the slightly pained smile on his face. You looked around some more, and your smile fell as your eyes landed on a very familiar-looking portrait.

The curve of his lips, strong jawline, uneven eyelids, defined eyebrows — it was like you were looking directly at him. Your breath hitched as you looked at the inscription below the oil painting.

Kim Taehyung / 1877 - 1902

“Taehyung…” you called. He didn’t respond.

“Taehyung,” you called again, slowly turning around, your eyes meeting his panicked ones. “You… You’re …”

“Dead.”

“What do you mean you’re dead? You’re standing right here! But the portrait. Oh my god. Is this a dream? Have I been dreaming this entire thing? Ghosts aren’t real! Are you a demon? Oh fu -”

“Y/N!” he shouted, his arms wrapping around you to calm you down, his icy skin only further reminding you that a dead man was hugging you.

“You’re so cold! Oh fuck! You’re so cold! I’m so stupid!” you continued panicking, completely unaware of how to deal with this if it really wasn’t a dream.

“Can you please give me a chance to explain?” he asked, his low voice soothing you.

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and melted into his tight grip. It was hard to believe that he was a ghost when you were physically touching him, a complete contradiction of what online conspiracy theories and horror documentaries (and your biology lectures) told you.

“I didn’t lie about anything I told you. I was born in 1877 and I died in 1902. I was poisoned by another musician who grew jealous of my success. I chose to stay in the human realm as a ghost instead of pass on.”

You remained silent, needing a moment to think. Was he telling the truth? But Taehyung didn’t have a reason to lie to you, nor did he have a reason to be honest. And why was he so insistent on explaining himself? Did he have the same feelings as y —

“I’m telling the truth,” he said abruptly, sensing your inner turmoil. “I understand if you do not trust me. It would be hard for anyone living to trust me in this situation, but I want you to know that,” he paused, looking at you with such emotion that it made you want to reach out to him and take all the pain he was feeling away. “That I am being genuine because I care about you the way you care about me.”

You gasped quietly in shock.

“The last living person to enter this place was 60 years ago, and no one ever stayed,” he began sadly. “But then today, you,” he looked down to make eye contact with you, “you came in and you stayed and we talked for hours.”

As much as you wanted to comfort him, you still remained silent.

Taehyung continued, “Even when I was alive, I never encountered anyone who spoke as passionately as you, who was refreshingly honest, or who cared about what I said as much as you do. Y/N, I hope you understand that our time together today has meant the world to me, and I would never betray your trust or presence for anything in the world.

Your eyes teared up at his confession, and you barely managed to whisper, “Today meant a lot to me too.”

Taehyung let out a relieved breath and tightened his hold on you. “I may be a dead man but my feelings for you are true. I hope that you’ll accept me as I am and -”

“Tae-” you attempted to interrupt him, but he cut you off and only tightened the hug.

“And if you do not accept me, I understand,” he finished, his voice strained as he said the last two words.

“Taehyung,” you started, but he interrupted you again.

“Please, if you wish to leave do not say anything else. I fear that I might not be able to take it if you bless me with your voice and presence again just to leave soon after,” he pleaded, his hands gently holding you to his chest as you two still remained in a fond embrace.

“Taehyung,” you started again, feeling his chest tighten as you gently spoke, “Although this is all very hard for me to understand, I do accept you.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. “But,” you said sharply, and he winced at the word, “You need to explain everything for me to truly believe in you. How am I seeing you? How does this all work?”

Begrudgingly, Taehyung released the hug, and looked at you with a cheeky and fond smile. “How are you seeing me? Easy, as a ghost I can choose when I want to be seen,” he paused, “and when I don’t.” As he uttered the last word, his body disappeared in front of your eyes, and a surprised gasp fell from you.

“You! You! What the fuck!” staring as he reappeared, his body once again covering the wall behind him.

He laughed again at your shock, also finding your blunt language endearing. “It’s something all of us ghosts can do,” he said casually while you stood in shock. He continued, “I can also feel sensations like a human when I’m in this form.”

He stepped toward you again, leaving only a few centimeters between your bodies. “For example,” he started, grasping your warm hand and bringing it up to his cheek, “I can feel the warmth of your hands and how they feel on my skin.”

He dropped your hand and bent down, his beautiful face now directly in front of you. For a moment, you two only looked at each other, his strong eyes holding your curious gaze and his cool breath sending a shiver down your body. “And,” he finally said, “I can feel chills as your breath fans across my face.”

He stood fully up again, leaving you both relieved and disappointed. “I can also feel emotions just like I used to when I was alive, although I’m sure you already know that,” he told you, the boxy smile returning to his face. Your heart still recovering from the intense eye contact only a few moments prior, you could only muster a nod in response. “Would you like me to continue?” Taehyung asked.

“No,” you admitted, shocking him as he was ready to explain more.

“No?”

“I believe you, it’s difficult to, but I believe you,” you told him, your voice quiet as you looked up at him fondly. “This is all confusing as fuck, and I really don’t know what the future would look like for us but,” you pause briefly, watching as his smile grew to meet his eyes, “I have feelings for you, and I want to try and make this work.”

Taehyung grinned and wrapped you in a tight hug, the ice cold of his skin no longer sending an unnerving chill down you. He looked down and used his finger to lift your face to look at him. Wordlessly, he closed his eyes and leaned down.

Following his motions, your lips eventually met. Taehyung kissed you with gentle passion, his full lips molding perfectly against yours. His hands moved down to the small of your back, and he pulled you in tighter to deepen the kiss.

This was better than you expected. His cold lips set a fire within you, and the way he moved his lips against yours made you feel as if your chest was going to burst at any second. The moment his lips touched yours, and yours his, you knew that you could never feel anything like it again.

A moment of adrenaline seeped into you as you parted your lips, greedy for more. At this, electricity coursed through you and you felt as if a fire was ignited between you, and as Taehyung deepened the kiss the fire grew, nearly consuming you both whole.

Your lips moved in sync with his for what seemed like an eternity before he broke the kiss, leaving you breathless. He allowed you to catch your breath before he spoke, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I saw you enter.”

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a teasing tone evident in your words.

“It would be rude of me to walk up to a beautiful stranger and steal a kiss from them,” he answered, his hands moving to play with your fingers.

“I suppose it would be, but I wouldn’t have minded,” you admitted, making deep eye contact with him once again.

Taehyung smiled at your words, and he waited a moment before saying, “I know someone that I think you would be happy to see again. If you feel comfortable with me, I can take you to him.”

Your eyes widened, and at that moment, you could hear the same melody he was playing earlier coming from somewhere deeper in the hall. In that moment, you remember seeing the book that Yoongi had when he first learned the song, and how the composer was named Kim Taehyung.

A tear rolled down your face as you looked up at Taehyung in shock, his confirming nod causing a choked breath to leave you. Yoongi already found this place.

With the brightest smile you’ve had on your face in years, you gently grasped Taehyung’s hand. “I’ve never felt more comfortable in my entire life.”

@pancakewaffles-blog1 Thank you for you prompt of ‘ Angels and Demons’ I hope you enjoy reading this. Sorry it’s taken me a few days. 

Kim xx

His Angel

“So...It's a full moon tonight..”

“It is?-”

“Come on Sasuke, tell your best friend-”

“You call yourself that, not me-”

“Ha! You can't fool me we've been best friends since imps, and anyway don't change the subject. Where does the Prince of darkness go every full moon?”

“That's just a mystery for the Prince of Darkness to know, and you, my little imp friend to never find out.” Sasuke smirked walking away.

With the sun finally set Sasuke, the devils least favourite son, sneaked across the border of his fathers realm. It was easy, it shouldn't have been but after years of eluding the guards it had become second nature.

The human world is their mutual territory, where angels and demons can inflict their abilities and create havoc, in the case of Sasuke's kind, and whatever angels created. In his opinion their influence could seem endearing but he found it meddlesome. Why couldn't they just leave the humans alone? What did it matter what happened to they puny, insignificant little lives?

In the human realm the sun had set hours ago, the forest, their secret spot, bathed in natural light of the moon.

Being a mid autumns night every now and again a cloud would cover their natural light basking them in darkness. These were the moments Sasuke enjoyed the most, the unspoken minutes when darkness could take away all their inhibitions and allowed them to take actions you wouldn't have done in light.

“Sasuke-Kun.” He smiled, the first since the last full moon.

“Hinata.” He answered simply.  

“Were you spotted?” He couldn't help the small chuckle of arrogance escape at her innocent question.

“Am I ever?”

“Good.” She sighed in relief.

They sat then, side by side on the log conveniently placed by a storm a few years back. Actually, in all honesty the storm had been Sasuke on one particular rampage. She lent her head against his shoulder and they sat in silence, looking to the moon.

“Our fathers -”

“Please, not this again.” Sasuke rolled his eyes. “We've been going back and forth over this for years now.”

“I know, but, do you think they would ever accept-”

“A demon and angel? No, I don't.” He lifted her chin for her now sad eyes to meet his,”Hinata, I don't mean my honesty to hurt you. But our parents are both set In their ways, for eons now. They just can't and won't understand our friendship.”

“I know your right, but I want them to see the good in you, like I do.”

“You're such an...an angel.” He chuckled, “I'm a demon, dark spawn, what light could you possibly see in me?”

“You joke, but I get the feeling your serious.” Hinata's eyes widened at the realisation. Sasuke stayed quiet and lent back. “Your mother.”

Sasuke turned away from Hinata, her words stinging him like a swarm of wasps. Although he knew she had never, and would never mean to cause him pain.

“I-I'm not allowed to talk about her.” Sasuke stammered uncharacteristically.

“Your father?”

“Hmm.” He agreed.

“Perhaps,” Hinatas voice gently guiding his eyes back to her. “I could tell you about her.”

“She a tooth fairy now?” He gave a small chuckle, trying to desperately hide the emotions building within.

“A guardian angel.”

“Seems fitting.” He smirked.

As predicted, a cloud enveloped the moon, their only sauce of light, and now in darkness he could ask a question without witnessing her reaction.

“Does she remember me?” His voice sounding to his own ear like the small child he had been when she had lost her life to save his own.

His mothers actions on that fateful day had changed Sasuke's life and not necessarily for the better. With his father in a state of despair and depression from the grief of loosing the love of his entire existence, he had become a empty vessel. His heart darkened with bereavement, turning him to the swiftly to an evil path and eventually becoming the devil and ruler of the daemon realm. In the years thereafter his fathers hate had turned from the world, to it's soul occupier: Sasuke.

“She begged to become the guardian of the boy she now in her care. I think, she reminds her of you.”

“Me?” Sasuke frowned.

“He's much younger of course being 13-”

“You forgot charming-”

“Oh how brainless of me,” She chuckled, “Yes, he has a certain charm I suppose.” She admitted. “His life could be radiant with light, if he would only make the right choices.”

With the cloud dissipating, the moon once again caked them in its beams of light. They remained quiet then, in a comfortable silence, both simply enjoying the others company without the need fill the space with inconsequential blabbering.

Sasuke's mind wondered to their 1st encounter. A mission; To bring balance to the human realm at the time engrossed in war. Such a mission was unheard of, an angel and demon required to work together. Between them they had had to make decisions, some harder than others. Compromised, when plans had gone astray. A life saved and another to be greeted by their fellows in the afterlife. In that, most troublesome and complex of time their friendship had formed, trust earned; something rarely given by himself.

“Hinata?”

“Hmm?” She replied. He glanced towards her, judging her reaction. Her eyes were closed and face pointing towards the moon, if they were in the sun anyone would think she was savouring the suns warmth.

“Do you think-” He stopped himself, and took pause of his thoughts.

“What is is Sasuke-Kun?” She turned her body, facing him, their knees almost touching. He scrutinized the sky, waiting obediently for the next inevitable cloud to conceal the moon once more.

“Do you think” He began again, “You can fall in love without a heart?”

Even in the darkness he could feel her gaze seeking his own. The space between them becoming so intense and electric could of fuelled an entire city.

In her own way Hinata didn't answer his question with words. Instead, he felt one of her fingers tentatively touching his own in the gap between them on their log.

“You've turned my world on it's axis,” He confessed in the pitch-black forest, “What had once seemed right, now seems wrong.” His hand took hold of her small one in his own and their fingers interlocked. “You starve and near exhaust me with your willingness to put others before yourself. Everything I've done, I've done for you. I'd move the stars for no-one; but you.” He heard her gasp, it's noise reverberating off the trees. “Don't you think we've done enough for humans? Our fathers? Perhaps it's time we be selfish, together.”

“I-I would like that.” Her voice sounding course with emotion.

“I would be human for you.”

“Sasuke.” She sighed. Of course she knew what those words meant. She knew his view on humans, and therefore understood the depth of them.

Then moon un-obscured by clouds once again, the secret placed doused in light. Therefore giving Sasuke the advantage of catching Hinata's quick glimpses from his eyes to his mouth. This own vision mirrored hers.

Slowly, they both closed the gap, both leaning towards the other. Sasuke angled his head to one side, to get a better angle. With his lips just a hairs width from hers he looked to her gaze once more, giving her the opportunity to pull away. She didn't. Hinata's eyes closed and at long last he felt her smooth and supple lips tenderly press his own. His own eyes closed and an involuntary groan escaped at the euphoria of such a sensation. He could feel her hands wrap around his shoulders pulling him all the more closer, his own wrapping around the curve of her waist.

He broke the kiss only to move his head to the other side, testing if a different angle achieved the same result. With each millisecond they had both come to the same conclusion, their lips touching would not be enough. Each opened their mouths, tongues grazed.

He may think humans insignificant and irrelevant but even he'd admit the act of kissing could very well redeem their every discretion.

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

  ��      They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

His World - Geralt Of Rivia

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This isn’t proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. I’m gonna come back and edit it later! I hope you like it even though I was completely writer’s blocked when I wrote it xx

Wordcount: 2393

Summary: Just when you’ve given up on the neverending dream of ever finding your soulmate, fate brings you together. 

You lived in a world where you were born with words engraved into your skin; the words that would be the first spoken to you by your soulmate when you met them. If you ever met them, that is.

To some, said words were a curse, and to others, a blessing. Or well, up until the point where you actually met your soulmate, it was a curse for everyone, and not many were so lucky.

Whether you were just living in different parts of the world or if your other half was dead, you would never know. You could only sit by and stare as the words on your body faded away more and more for each passing year, until finally, only a faint, white scarring and a hole in your heart would be left behind.

The words on your arm were still very visible, although they had died down from a sharp black to a dark grey.

Like everyone else, you had once dreamt about the day when you would meet your soulmate, and woken up every day with a big smile on your lips, excited what the day would bring.

But as you grew up, you became much more aware of how dull and grey the world and the people living in it was, and you came to the realization of how truly rare it was to find your soulmate.

And you realized the chance of you doing so was even slimmer, as the words on your arm indicated that you would have to actually touch your soulmate to hear the destined words fall from his lips, and long story short, you were not a woman fond of social interaction and touching other people.

To put it simply, you didn’t think you’d ever find your soulmate. But then the day came, then that man came. That strange, peculiar man with the silvery-white hair and amber eyes, trotting into your village on the back of a big, proud stallion.

“Healer! We need a healer! Is there a healer here?”

You didn’t think you had ever heard the word ‘healer’ so many times in the same sentence before, and could only stare from your place at the outside fireplace where you were preparing the afternoon tea as the famous Witcher, drenched in blood and only God knows what, yelled at the top of his lungs after a healer with another man, much smaller in build, hanging limply under his arm.

Your uncle wasted no time in rushing over from his spot beside you, demanding to know what happened.

You left them to it briefly, missing the Witcher’s response as you put the chamomile tea back down on the table, taking your time before heading over to help in any way you could.

As you approached the trio, you noticed the rest of the villagers ogling at the Witcher from afar, keeping their distance. Your people had always been a scared one, and you guessed you should have been too, but you weren’t bothered with much these days.

You had heard the songs and tales about the mutant standing in your village. Why should you be amazed just from seeing him in the flesh when you already knew everything he had done and all he was capable of?

“I’ll take care of your friend and my niece will tend to your injuries meanwhile.” You heard your uncle tell the Witcher just as you reached him and you didn’t protest.

In fact, you said nothing as the Witcher’s amber eyes met your much duller ones, simply walking alongside him and your uncle as they carried the passed-out man to the infirmary hut.

Once in there, they placed the man down on a bed, and your uncle wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt to get a better view of his wound.

“What’s his name?” Your uncle asked, turning to ready the herbs and bandages he would be needing for the healing process after a moment of inspecting the damage he would be working with.

“Jaskier.” The Witcher answered without missing a beat, his voice deep enough to send a rumble through your bones.

Your uncle nodded, looking up. “My niece will show you to the hut you will be staying in and help clean your wounds. I’ll make sure your friend heals alright, don’t worry.”

The Witcher, grumbled, and wordlessly, you turned on your heel and headed back out of the hut, expecting him to follow you. And he did, surprisingly without any protests, walking quietly behind you the entire time.

The only thing that could be heard was the clashing sounds of the hilt of his sword hitting his armor, his heavy footsteps and the whispers of your people as you passed them in the street.

In the corner of your eye you could see him watching them closely, but you couldn’t be bothered, your focus being solely on the obvious wound in his side that he had been clutching since he had let go of his friend, and the very reason he was currently limping his way forward.

What would have been able to damage a Witcher to the point where he could barely walk was a mystery to you, but whatever it was, it must have been big and dangerous.

After a minute of walking and taking a few left and right turns, you finally reached the hut next to yours - the one he would be staying in until his friend was ready to travel again - and walked inside.

As he let himself in and made himself comfortable in a chair in the middle of the small home, you wasted no time in going over to the shelf on which you stored the herbs and bandages, and gathered everything you would be needing for his injuries.

He groaned behind you, and by the sound of it, he was relieving himself of his weapons and clothes, getting himself ready to be tended to.

You quickly finished gathering everything you needed and turned around with the items in your hands and arms and for just a moment, you had to stop and stare at the magnificence of his muscles.

You had tended to many injured men in your life, but none of them had been half as strongly built as him, and at the end of the day, you were still simply a woman. A woman who could admit the beauty of the man in front of her.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head free of the distracted thoughts and set your feet into motion again, heading over to where he sat hunched over on the chair and putting the medical supplies down on a table beside him.

He must have been accustomed to the routine of getting taken care of by now because the second you came over to him he straightened himself up and put his wound on display for you, making it as easy for you to work as only possible.

He kept his hand on his knee for support, leaning slightly to the side to expose his bleeding side, and kept his eyes on the ground as you prepared the cleaning rag.

Once it was wet, you moved it to his side, but before you allowed the piece of fabric to make contact with the wound, you stopped yourself, glancing at him and hesitating.

“I’m sure you’re used to getting stitched up by now but if I hurt you, let me know and I’ll take it easy.” You told him softly, and the second the words left it was if he froze to ice in his seat.

You watched with confusion how his entire face turned cold, his eyes hard and his knuckles turned white where they were gripping his knee. But he said nothing, only staring into the ground and breathing heavily.

And you took the lack of protest as an okay to begin, simply letting your eyes leave his face to focus on the wound instead.

The rag made contact with his wound and he didn’t even flinch. On the contrary, he seemed to relax his entire body, and you couldn’t quite figure out how someone could relax at the feeling of a harsh rag brushing against their torn up skin.

But then again, no one had ever been able to figure out a Witcher, had they?

You took your time to clean his wound, making sure all of the dirt and dried blood disappeared with the rag before putting said rag down on the table.

The wound was now fully on display, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of the depth of it, knowing you were the one who would have to stitch it up.

You prepared the needle and thread and got to work and the Witcher didn’t flinch a single time you pushed the needle through his skin. You seemed to be more uneasy than he was, despite having stitched countless wounds before.

“It will make a pretty impressive scar.” You spoke, your voice breaking through the eerily quiet air in an attempt to break the thick and awkward blanket of silence hanging over you.

But he only nodded, not saying a word.

Not so talkative, then, you thought, but still took what you could get, continuing to mend his broken skin. 

Once you were done with the stitches, you picked up a salve, taking some of the lotion on your fingers and rubbing it around in your hands before carefully tarting to rub it around his now fully stitched wound.

Surprising you, he hummed when your hands made contact with his skin, and in fright and concern, you hurriedly brought your hand away, taking a step back.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You asked quickly, but he only hummed again, his eyes shut and his body relaxed where he sat, not moving a muscle.

“Your hands… they’re soft.” He replied simply without opening his eyes, looking as if he was in some kind of trance.

And this time it’s your turn to freeze, your hand automatically flying to your arm on which your words were tattooed, your eyes widening as realization came over you.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

You took another step back, your eyes widening even further and your breath getting caught in your throat. “What-“ You took a deep breath, feeling your entire body starting to shake. “What did you say?”

He didn’t answer with words, simply standing up from the chair and looking into your eyes while bringing his hands down to the hem of his pants, pushing them down slightly to reveal his own words tattooed into the skin of his hipbone.

I’m sure you’re used to getting stitched up by now but if I hurt you, let me know and I’ll take it easy.

You stared at the black letters, barely even noticing when he brought his pants back up over them again, only snapping out of your trance when his low voice cut through the air, his body now standing right in front of you.

“Are you scared?” He asked, looking down at you with amber eyes.

You held his gaze, your breathing still heavy and ragged with shock, your entire body shaking and forcing you to lean back onto the table behind you, your hands grabbing ahold of the edge of the wood in order to keep your body upright.

But you shook your head still, answering quietly. “Of course not.” You took a shaky breath. “Everyone knows one is physically unable to hurt their soulmate.”

He nodded, taking yet another step closer to you, and you could feel your heart thumbing violently inside your chest.

“Are you... disappointed?” He asked then, his eyes searching yours.

“I- …” You hesitated, but once again shook your head. “No. No, I’m not. I’m just… surprised. Confused.” You confessed.

Swallowing, you pushed yourself off the table with a shaky breath, finally regaining the strength in your legs after the shock.

Your eyes watched him closely. “I was under the impression that Witchers were incapable of feeling human emotions.” You said, and he said nothing as you slowly approached him again.

Testing the waters, you came to a stop right before him, your chests grazing each other’s, and raised a shaky hand up to his face. You flinched back briefly when the tips of your fingers made contact with his stubbly cheek, but you quickly composed yourself and pressed your entire palm against it.

You let out a short breath at the feeling, tears slowly starting to prickle your eyes. “I never thought I’d find you…” You admitted, letting your thumb caress the corner of his lip.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. He was silent for a moment before his hand slowly came up to rest on top of yours, his eyes showing nothing but utmost honesty and sincerity as he spoke, “You’re my world now.”

He hesitated, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before looking back into yours. “You always have been but now…” He shook his head slowly, bringing your hand down from his face and squeezing it. “I’ll never let you go.”

You breathed in shakily, your heart fluttering in your chest at the feeling of his warm hand swallowing yours. You had only just met him and still, you had never felt as safe and at home as you did at that moment.

You carefully brought your hand out to grab his other one, taking another step closer to him, making you as close as you possibly could be.

Looking up at him, your eyebrows knitted together in deep thought, your eyes flickered down for a moment before looking back up into his.

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else than by your side.” You confessed, squeezing his hands.

His head fell down to yours, your foreheads pressing together, and you watched his eyes falling shut in contentment as you continued. “I’ve waited my entire life to meet you and now that I have, I wouldn’t have wished for anyone else.”

You shook your head, letting go of his hands and bringing yours up to grab a hold of his face, causing his eyes to open again. “You’re my world, too.” You admitted, and then pressed your lips to his without another word.

Only Mine: Chapter 10: The Question

Summary: You want spend precious time with Natasha, who you haven’t seen in a while. Then an idea pops into your head, and Bucky is more than happy to oblige, before he asks you some important questions.

Warnings: implied smut, phone sex (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THE PART BETWEEN WARNINGS) fluff, swearing, mafia AU

Word Count: 3551

A/N: I feel like I haven’t updated in forever, so sorry for that. Not too much is happening here, I’m more preparing my ground for what is about to come next. Hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. Tell me what you thought, you guys! I love this series so much, tbh xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

It was not that you didn’t enjoy your time at the mansion. You surely did, but after a few days (because of course Bucky didn’t let you leave just like that when he had all things he needed at one place) you felt like you could use some alone time. Or, more specifically, time with your own friends.

Bucky acted as if he couldn’t speak English when you told him that you’d like somebody to drive you home and that somebody could presumably be anybody else but Brock. Even though he stayed clear of you the whole time you spent in the house, it didn’t mean you felt any better about the guy. You still remembered his sly comments, and it never ceased to make you shudder.

Bucky tried to list all the advantaged of you staying there with him, and although constant sex and not having to cook did sound pretty good, you knew you had to leave, one way, or the other. It was also the end of the weekend, and as much as you liked Bucky and spending some quality time with him, your boss would probably not be too happy about you not coming to work the next day.

But most of all, it felt like a century since you last saw Nat. You were used to be with her almost every single day, just sharing stupid stories from work, and having a laugh about the stupidity of some people. But because you spent so much time with Bucky, you just didn’t have the time for Natasha. And you were feeling like the worst friend in the world.

Bucky’s protests were loud and clear, but your resilience was stronger, and so it was Sunday afternoon, that you finally managed to make him budge, and he actually let you leave the mansion. Not without a long and very steamy goodbye though. He insisted it was either a hot shower sex, or you not leaving his house ever again, so…

It was Peter who drove you back, and even though Bucky wanted to accompany you, he had some pressing matters to attend to, and, to be quite frank, you didn’t mind one bit. You enjoyed your time spent with Peter, because he was just such a sweetheart, and you wanted to get to know him better.

“I don’t want to pester you, Peter, and if you don’t feel like answering my question, you totally can stay quiet,” you said, while his eyes were glued to the road, probably because Bucky told him that if there was a hair wrong on your hair when he next saw you, Peter would be responsible.

“I’m an open book, Y/N. Ask away!”

“Alright. I was curious, as to what such a sweet boy, and so young, on top of it, is doing with Bucky’s gang. I mean, sure, you’ve got the power, and I bet the money ain’t that bad either, but you seem so smart, and I just wondered what made you decide for this line of work, really,” you mused, and waited for his reply.

You knew you were being nosey, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

There was a silence in the car while Peter thought about his answer, and you didn’t rush him.

“Uhm, well, my uncle used to work for Bucky’s father, he used to be his accountant, and because he and my aunt May raised me, it was one of those things that were almost given, you know? I tried to go to university, but it just didn’t feel right. So I quit and asked Bucky if I could help him out, and he took me in. Also, I wanted to help May. She is an amazing woman and after losing my uncle, I just wanted to help her out a bit, you know? And going to university, that would just drain her completely, and I didn’t have the heart to do it.”

You listened to him intently, your heart tightening in your chest for him. You could see he was ok with his fate, but, somehow, you weren’t. You wanted more for this sweet kid, and even though you didn’t really know how to achieve that, you made a mental note to try and help him and his aunt so that he could pursue a better career. Or at least one where he wouldn’t have to face death almost every single month.

Before you knew it, Peter was pulling over in front of your building. The street lamps were already lit, the dim light they were emitting setting a warm feeling in your heart. The sun was down, and only a few orange and pink clouds were giving away the beauty of the previous day. You kissed Peter’s cheek, which even in the hardly lit car caused him to blush so hard you could actually see it, and you giggled slightly.

You bid him goodnight and getting out of the car, you pulled out your phone from your purse, dealing Bucky’s number. He made you promise to call him as soon as you got home, and you knew you would have caught hell weren’t you to call him immediately.

He picked up in seconds, and you had to laugh in your head. He was such a softie, even if he never admitted it.

“Already missing me, doll?”

You could almost see the smirk on his stupid face, and you shook your head, unlocking the front door.

“Oh, that’s how it is now, huh? I thought you wanted me to let you know, but I guess I was wrong, bye, Buck!” You hollered, even though you had no intention of hanging up on him.

“NO” Wait! I was just joking! I’m glad you called, doll, you know me. I was just teasing you, that’s all. I’m happy you’re home and safe. Was the ride ok, or should I take care of the youngling?”

“Don’t you even dare tell him anything, joke or not. He’s mortified of you, and I don’t wanna be the reason you’re making him uncomfortable. The ride was perfect, and you should be glad you have such a sweetie amongst your men!” You told him, imagining him rolling his eyes at your comments. He always did this when you talked to him about his line of business.

“Right, because it’s such an important trait for a mobster, to be a fucking sweetie. Imma have to remember that one when I hire more men. If you’re not a sweetie, you can’t fucking work for him. You wanna kill him? Sure, but do it sweetly.”

You snorted out a laugh just as you entered your apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. You missed this little place. Your little safe haven.

“You’re such a dork. I’m just saying that he can actually act human, not like I can say that about all of your guys,” you took a jab at Brock and Bob, but continued right afterwards, not wanting to give him a reason to get angry again.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go, I think me and Nat are gonna have a glass or five, and then we’ll go to sleep. Hope you have a good night, babe,” you almost whispered, walking further in the apartment and spotting Nat sitting on the sofa, smiling at you with two glasses of wine ready. How she knew you were coming, that was a mystery to you.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said there! Be safe and text me when you wake up. Night!”

You wanted to laugh at him for being such an overprotective boyfriend, but he already hung up. Bucky couldn’t make a friendly phone call, and that was why you always rather either texted him or spoke to him in person. His telephone persona was just too stiff for you.

“Hey there, stranger! I almost thought you moved there and that I had to look for another roommate!” Nat smiled at you sheepishly, and you stuck your tongue out, which made her laugh.

“Not my fault my boyfriend wants me all to himself,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, and Nat had to roll her eyes at you.  

“Your boyfriend is a mafia boss, of course, he wants you to himself, babe! Anyway, how is life going in the mafia paradise, huh? He’s been treating you well, I hope. If not, I’m gonna go and kick his juicy ass!”

You wanted to take a sip of your wine, but Nat’s comment made you spit it out like a hippo, and your hand wasn’t fast enough to cover your mouth which made the white wine sprinkle everywhere on the sofa.

“You can’t say things like that! I could have drowned, for Christ’s sake! Anyway, a juicy ass, huh?” You smirked at her.

The rest of the night went similarly, you two were talking your hearts out about everything that has happened since you two had a proper girls’ evening. By the time it was 1AM, you were both giggling messes, slightly drunk but definitely happy.  

And it was in that state that an idea emerged in your brain. You bid Nat goodnight and went to your room, picking up your phone and dialling the only important number.

—-

Bucky was already asleep when his phone started vibrating next to his head. He wanted to ignore it, thinking it could wait till morning to deal with the world and with the person being so rude as to call him so late at night.

But when he saw who was calling him, he sat up straight and didn’t hesitate in picking up.

“Doll? What’s wrong? Where are you? Should I come for you?” He was distressed, just the mere thought of you being hurt made him want to vomit. He could gut a person with his bare hands, but he couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering.

He heard a little giggle escaping your mouth, and your heavy breathing and his brows furrowed.

“You could come alright if you know what I mean,” he heard you say seductively, and his face was now wearing a look of utter confusion.

Warning, smut starting

“What? Y/N? Are you- are you drunk, doll?” He asked, his hand on his face as he tried to breathe through his slight panic attack.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I miss you, James, and I thought we could have a little fun, what do you say?” You were whining, and before Bucky knew what was happening a strangled moan left your lips, and the sound went straight to his groin.

“Doll, are you doing what I think you’re doing?”  

“Depends. What do you think I’m doing, James?” The way his name rolled off your tongue would be enough to get him off. He loved it when you called his name, all sweaty, with puffed up lips, parted enough he could kiss you deeply whenever he liked.

He growled as a response, and he heard you moaning again. His dick was already standing proud, just the thought of you making it all excited and ready for action. Bucky sighed and lied down, keeping his sleeping pants on, just freeing his aching cock.

“You’re teasing me, Y/N, that’s what you’re doing. So stop it, and tell me exactly what you’re doing to that pretty pussy of yours.”

He could hear the sudden intake of breath on the other side of the line and had to smirk at your reaction. He could have you gasping even if he wasn’t there to perform his magic

Few seconds passed before you regained your composure and actually started talking. Bucky was just intently listening to the sounds leaving your mouth, imagining what you looked like at the moment, and each image his mind created was hotter than the previous one. But he knew no matter what he imagined, the reality was ten thousand times better, and he seriously hated himself for letting you go home. He could’ve been balls deep inside you by now.

“I’m picturing you with me, James, the way your beard scratches along under-boob, and the way you suck on my tits when you thrusting deep inside me, hitting all the right spots as you go,” you said quietly, and Bucky could tell you were biting your lip, trying to stay as quiet as possible. But because you were a screamer, he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep that up for long.

Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on by your little sighs and moans, and just the whole idea that you got drunk with your friend, and the thing you wanted to do at 1 AM in the morning was to call him and have phone sex with him.

“Yeah? And how does that feel, baby?” Bucky asked you, his voice strained from the effort of not coming right there and then.

“Oh, yeah! You feel amazing, James. So good and ohmygod… so sooo deep! Ooooh,” you were muttering and moaning, and Bucky couldn’t help it but let a moan of his own escape his lips. He could hear the whimper coming from your bed, and he swore under his breath. You would be his death, Bucky was sure of it.

The rest of the phone call was filled with both of you moaning and encouraging the other to speed up, to do it harder, and it 6 minutes, you were both hissing and groaning, coming together just as if you were actually sharing a bed.

Warning ending

For a moment, all that could be heard on the line was panting, both of you trying to calm down your hearts, and come down from your bliss.

“Well,” Bucky said when he regained his composure, “that was something else, doll. You alright?”

He could hear your sighs, and he could only imagine the blissful expression on your face right now.

“‘M fine. Tired, but oh-so-good. I’m sorry if I woke you up, I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your voice indeed sounded exhausted, and while Bucky cleaned himself, he mumbled on the phone, grinning like an idiot.

“Never apologise for wanting to have sex with me, phone or not. And if I ever tell you to stop, or to quit it, please, just kill me. Go to sleep, Y/N. You’re going to work tomorrow, and you should get at least some rest before you do so.”

You just hummed, and Bucky was pretty positive you were already drifting off, tired and satisfied. He smiled at the phone and mumbled a low goodnight before he hung up and went off to sleep himself. And all he could dream off that night was you being curled against his side, safe and sound.

—-

The whole day was a nightmare. Not only did you have a slight hangover in the morning, and your head felt like it would burst into flames any minute, you also came a bit late to work, which didn’t help your situation at all. Not that your boss minded too much, but still. You hated it when you were late.

By the end of the day, you wished you could be at home, taking a hot bath with your favourite scented candle, and let the whole day disappear from your mind.

But, obviously, Bucky had different plans, when it came to your evening, because as you got out of the office, there he was, standing like a statue surrounded by his men.

Kate and the others looked like deers in headlights, just standing there, confused and slightly terrified, with their eyes looking like they’d fall out if they moved. You just nodded their way and rolled your eyes at Bucky and his dramatic entrance into your personal life. He just HAD to come there.

You could feel all the eyes on you as you walked towards the black SUV and the infamous man standing in front of it. Only Nat knew about your relationship, and you thought you’d have a bit more time keeping in secret. But obviously, Bucky’s plans differed from yours and oh boy, would he hear about that one!

You didn’t even spare him a look, giving a small smile to Peter and Sam who were next to Bucky and you got in the car, shutting the door right behind you. You crossed your arms in front of you, clenching your jaw.

You didn’t even know why you were this mad. At first, you thought it was because you didn’t want to be seen with Bucky, his reputation preceding him. But then you realised that you didn’t care about that anymore. Sure, he was a gangster and he, without a doubt, did some things you wouldn’t even want to know about, but when he was with you, and with people he cared about, he was this amazing guy who would do anything for his people. And that’s what you valued the most.

It was that he didn’t even tell you he’d come and very obviously show everybody who you were seeing. It was your privacy as well as his, and you hated that he just made this decision without consulting you.

When he finally got in the car, he immediately turned to you with his eyebrows raised. You huffed out a breath and turned to face the window, not ready to have this fight just yet.

“Would you share with me, what the hell was that all about? Don’t I fucking deserve a kiss, picking up my girlfriend from work? What you so pissed about?”

You didn’t even answer him, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his men. Sam may have been his best friend, and Peter was still a kid, but you knew better than to lecture him in front of them. You just shook your head and waited till you got to your apartment so you could have a civilised conversation with him, which you knew wouldn’t happen in the car.

When Peter pulled over in from of your building, you said your goodbyes to the two in front and nodded at Bucky to follow you. He didn’t even question you, probably curious and pissed as hell you were still not speaking to him.  

Once in the apartment, he followed you to your room, closing the door behind the two of you, and once again, raising his brows at you.

“You gonna tell me what’s got your panties twisted or should I fucking deduce it somehow?” He was pissed, alright.

You turned on your heel, facing him with a furious expression.

“Did I ask you to come and pick me up from work? Or did you just DEDUCE that was something I wanted and just fucking acted on it?”

His expression was blank, but you knew that a million thoughts were running through his mind.

“You still on about that bullshit that I’m not boyfriend material and people are gonna judge you? Thought we got over that! Thought you were ok with being my girl,” he raised his voice at you, and you flinched at his tone, but you weren’t about to be intimidated by him. No fucking way!

“And have you ever asked me to be your fucking girlfriend, when you’re running around like a macho, acting as if we were a solid item, huh?”

Bucky was stunned. He told you you were his, and all of that, but he never thought you’d actually want him to ask you to be his girlfriend.

He smirked and took a step closer, you taking one step back. You were not ready to make up just yet.

“I didn’t know it was required, doll. If only I knew, I would’ve asked a lot sooner! I told you you were my girl and you didn’t protest, so I took it you were fine with that. But if you’re not, fine. My beautiful, amazing Y/N, would you do me the honour and be my official girlfriend? Please?”  

Well, that please really did that for you. Bucky, and pleading, you wouldn’t get anything better out of him, anyway.

“Since you’re asking so nicely, James,” you accentuated his name and smirked at him, earning a chuckle from him.

“You can be so fucking difficult sometimes. Why didn’t you say so in the car?”

“I was worried we would actually fight and I didn’t want to undermine your authority in front of the guys,” you smiled sweetly at him, and let him pull you in a hug.

“I’d spank your cute ass if you did that! Oh, and I came because I had another question on my mind. Is it a good time to talk to you about something else, or are you still pissed at your boyfriend?”

You swatted his chest lightly.

“What is it, my amazing boyfriend?”

He kissed the crown of your head and pulled you even closer.

“My birthday is coming up, and we have this tradition, that always on my birthday we organise a ball in some specific theme so that we can gather around looking dope as fuck and having a lot of kinky sex. Which, I hope, will be with you this year,” he added quickly, seeing your face turning red.

“Would you come with me, as my date?”

/Next Chapter >

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In Your Letter (Viv x Reader)

edit: omg I totally forgot to dedicate this to @defkisshalen​ when I put this in the queue. I hope this is enough “vivian for the soul” for you girl ;D

Prompt: It’s 1983, you’re part of Def Leppard’s road crew on the Pyromania Tour, and you get a letter from your pen pal one day- a pen pal whose identity you keep a secret from everyone else. They all insist you have a huge crush on whoever this mysterious gentleman is, but you know they’re wrong.

Or, are they...?

---------

July 21st, 1983. Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

Checking for the post turned out to be a joyous decision, and you knew right away it would probably be the best decision you'd make all day. As you shuffled through the pile of mail in the back hallway of the venue, you couldn't hide the giddy smile that appeared once you saw the envelope that was addressed to you. Just like that, the day was off to a great start. 

It was made out to a "Ms. Y/n L/n" like always. The gentleman-like flattery never failed to touch your heart, and it never failed to signify who had sent the piece of mail your way.

Concealing the envelope under your arm and throwing the other mail on a table for everyone else, you scurried off to a different room for some privacy. This wasn't exactly something you wanted to keep a secret from your surrounding crowd, but you thought it was for the best that you did. You were teased enough already by the crew and the band about your pen pal, and you could only imagine how much worse it would get once they actually knew who you had been writing to (and how often he was writing you back).

You shut the door and quickly threw yourself into a chair, kicking your legs out of excitement as you tore open the envelope. After you extracted the letter, you didn't hesitate another second before unfolding it and slowing down your impulse to carefully read the familiar handwriting.

"Hi, Y/N! I hope this got to you at the right place- since you said this Victoria address would be the one to send to around this time. Either way, it won't be a problem. You know we always make things work somehow. Now normally in this space I'd be answering questions from your last letter, or writing about all the exciting things I've been up to with the band, but I'd rather tell you in person. Yes, you heard me! Surprise! I'll be in Victoria on the 20th and 21st for some promotional reasons, and I'd love to catch up with you when you get there (as long as you're not too busy with Leppard things)! My tour starts on the 23rd, so this will be the only opportunity to meet up for a while. I wrote the number of the hotel I'll be staying at below, so give me a call when you get this, okay? If I don't hear from you by 1pm on the 21st then I'll give your venue a ring just in case you didn't get this letter. We'll sort out details over the phone. Can't wait to talk!! 

See you soon (hopefully)! Xx

-V.C.

P.S, Hope you like the candy I sent! Something sweet for the sweetest person I know : )"

There was an arrow pointing to a small wrapped candy he'd taped to the paper, and an unwanted blush washed over you. Despite the bashfulness, you felt yourself bouncing in your seat.

You glanced up at the time to check that wasn't 1 o'clock yet. Luckily, it was only 12:14.

"Still got time," you whispered aloud, just before hearing a muffled cough from somewhere in the room.

You turned around in a snap, squinting, and eventually spotting Phil, Steve, and Malvin hiding behind the coat racks in the room.

"Guys!" you whined as you tried to conceal the contents of the letter, "How long have you been there for?"

"Long before you came in," Malvin stood still, despite knowing you were aware of his presence. Steve poked his head out, "You looked so excited that we didn't wanna ask why-" Phil came all the way out, smirking evilly, "But now we can see..." "You didn't see anything!" you scolded them, but paused and went on in a hushed tone to continue, "Did you...?" "Not a thing," Malvin answered in a truthful tone. It was easier to believe him more than the other two. "But this has to be another letter from your mysterious boyfriend, am I right?" Phil teased. "You make it so obvious!" Steve walked out from hiding with Malvin, "What's the bloke sayin' now?" "For your information, he is not my boyfriend." Phil rolled his eyes sarcastically, "Alright, maybe he's not your boyfriend, but you've gotta admit you have been crushing on him pretty hard the past few months..." "I've gotta agree with them," Malvin chimed in, "You do make it quite obvious." "Says you!" you objected, your voice going higher than you wanted it to, "Can't you just leave us alone? Besides, he also plays guitar- maybe even better than you. Both of you." "Oh yeah?" Phil drew back to feign offense, "Maybe we should meet this bloke and have it out for your hand- being as you've got a thing for guitarists, anyhow." You scoffed and gathered everything up to head back out, "Yeah, you wish I did!" There wasn't any time to waste bickering with them; you now had an important phone call to make, and an important reunion to arrange and follow through with before the show that night. "'Boyfriend'," your mind scoffed at them, "What do they know?"

*** Despite the casual air you and your faraway friend always had, you felt an invisible pressure to be sufficiently presentable for him. It was a special occasion, regardless of what the others thought, so with limited time and resources, you ended up slipping into the Leppards' dressing room and snagging some makeup for your own use. You agreed to meet up for dinner with your pen pal (as you still had things to do prior to the show), and you snuck out of the venue at five without being seen or stopped by anyone. Before you knew it, you were approaching the restaurant that was agreed to host the rendezvous. Somewhere in the back of your mind, part of you felt like you were headed to a date. "Ugh, that's Phil and Steve's fault. All that 'Is he your boyfriend?' and 'You've been crushing on him' bullshit." You had long convinced yourself into thinking the guitarists were wrong about the second half of that. You had been writing back and forth to this friend for the better part of 6 months, and during the run of those 6 months, your heart never failed to flutter whenever you interacted with each other. To you, that didn't mean you were "crushing" on him (as Phil had so bluntly put it); you were just excited! When your hand touched the door of the restaurant, you felt your heart accelerate, and your mind was suddenly flooded with all the reasons why you couldn't wait to see him again. You had every reason to be as thrilled as you were. After all, he was an interesting guy, you never got tired while talking to him, he had such a sweet way with words and a guitar, and even just thinking of his accent and eyes made your heart melt- You froze, realizing you were getting too caught up in yourself. You pushed open the door and stood in the entrance, glancing around the establishment to see if he'd arrived yet. The sound of Since You're Gone patted against your eardrums as you looked around the warm, chestnut interior of the restaurant. The instant you found him was sure to make your heart soar with joy, but as luck would have it, he found you first. "Y/N! Over here!" an Irish brogue caressed the words that were called out to you. When your eyes found him, you felt yourself lift off the ground at the happy sight. There he was, sitting in a booth, quickly getting up to greet you. There he was, the curly-haired, bright-eyed Dio guitarist himself. There he was, your dearest Vivian Campbell. You embraced and cheerfully greeted each other before you could get to the table. He kissed your cheek, and you stood on your toes when you hugged him back, feeling as if you somehow found a home away from home. "How did you manage to get this set up on such short notice?" you asked, amazed at how everything fell into place. "Carefulness and luck?" he chuckled before pulling back and eyeing up your whole appearance, "Wow... you look wonderful, Y/N. I swear you've gotten taller, too- cos' I could've sworn I had more height on you last time we met..." "Oh really? And I could've sworn you were less Irish when we last met!" you teased him back. He put his arm around you, leading you back to the table, "I guess when you travel so much, you wanna get back in touch with your roots a bit." "Oh, don't you change a bit," you warned as you took a seat across from him, "You're the only thing that keeps me sane, you know. The entertainment industry can be a little too entertaining at times." "Oh, I know what you mean," Viv started to pour water into the two empty glasses on the table, "We're on different sides of the same coin; the performers and the road crew." "It's nice to sit down and do something simple that's not related to the tour for once, you know? Just so there's a reminder that our typical lives still exist outside of all that." He pushed one glass of water towards you, softly smiling, "Couldn't have said it better myself." "Well then," you raised your glass towards him to make a small toast, "To sanity." He raised his own glass to add on, "And to a conversation that's not on paper for once." *** The sunset had completely taken over the sky once you and Viv were finished with dinner. Both knowing that you had to leave for the Leppard show soon, you took a short walk up to the quiet rooftop terrace of the restaurant to continue your conversation. Sitting next to each other on a bench and overlooking the city in the evening glow, an imminent 'parting of ways' sensation was in the air. You nearly felt like a modern-day Cinderella; the clock nearing the fated time where you had to scurry off from the ball and leave your prince. "Prince?" you nagged yourself, "God, there I go again! Those Leppard boys are getting too much into my head. Talk about having evil stepsisters..." It seemed all there was left for you and your Irish 'prince' to do was reflect on whatever was to come next in your lives. With the tour getting kicked up a notch for you, and his just beginning, it was impossible to know exactly what directions both of you were headed in. Given that, not knowing when you'd see each other again should've been the main topic at this point in the evening, but neither of you wanted to bring it up. It seemed like a future problem, not a problem for the present, so all things on that matter were quieted. "So, do you think this tour is gonna keep Def Leppard on the rise?" Viv asked you, breaking the silence at one point, "I hear they're getting bigger and bigger, and as far I'm concerned, they deserve it." "Oh you have no idea- things seem to get crazier every night, I swear! The word 'rise' is putting it delicately. 'Domination' is more like it. I just hope it doesn't go to their heads..." "You've got enough messes to clean up already, I get it. You're like the mum of the whole band." You let your eyes float upwards to the clouds as you got more lost in the thought, "Why does everyone always say that to me...?" "I'm just speculating-" Viv put up his hands, laughing guiltily, "I've never heard anyone say that before..." "I suppose that is one way to put it... those guys can be a handful, but sometimes I exaggerate too much about them." "You tend to talk about them a lot too, I've noticed." "Well- then I suppose I am their mum. They're well-behaved compared to some other musicians. But they're still crazy in their own ways, let me tell you," you chuckled and added, "I can only imagine that you'd fit into their mix pretty well." Viv laughed with his arms around his stomach. The sound of him, the look of his handsome and toothy smile, plus the surrounding golden pink glow of the sunset stirred up your emotions in a strange way. Maybe it was happiness, maybe it was appreciation, or maybe it was nostalgia for something you knew you were going to miss. "Are you calling me crazy?" he scoffed at you, his laughter persisting, "I thought tonight was supposed to keep us sane?" "Am I wrong, though?" "No, no, you're not wrong," he straightened up, "Guess I've got more in common with those guys than I know." "You're so different in your own way, but you'd be surprised at how much you remind me of them. Maybe all young rockers are just- alike." He brushed his hair back when you glanced at him, and that's when the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye. You let your eyes focus on it, and before you knew it, you were staring, and your heart was softening even more. Now that you noticed the small detail, you had no idea how you didn't notice it sooner. "What?" Viv asked, oblivious and looking around for what you were fixed on. You blinked as you were broken from the trance, but still continued to stare at him, "I just- I noticed you were wearing the bracelet I made you..." He held up his wrist so you'd have a clear view of it, "Oh yeah, I wear it all the time! Wanted to be sure I was wearing it when I saw you tonight, though." Again, you fought against the rising flush that wanted to be visible on you. "Shit, why is that making me blush? He's just being a good friend." "I'll admit, I'm touched and surprised that you remembered," you looked back out at the sunset over the city. Viv shrugged, turning to look at the sunset respectively, "'Course I did. We're always so far apart, so it's nice to have a little part of you with me sometimes. Can't exactly carry your letters with me onstage if I want to." The flush couldn't be held back now. Viv's flattery was too much for your heart, and too much to not grin at. "But don't people talk?" you purposely teased him the way your crew did to you. "Talk about what?" "Well-" you tried to accurately express the emotions you felt towards the Terror Twins, "For example: the people I work with call you my 'boyfriend' simply because I write to you. Don't people wonder why you suddenly started wearing that bracelet and disappearing to meet with a woman you call your 'pen pal'?" "Now that you mention it," he rubbed his chin, "I'm surprised no one does... guess people don't care enough to tease. Or maybe I got lucky?" You scoffed and shook your head, "Lucky? Absolutely. I had to keep it a secret that I was coming here just to enjoy myself!" "That's awful that they won't leave you alone," he frowned. "Don't worry," you looked over at him and made a swatting motion with your hand, "It's easy enough to get back at them. All you gotta do is eat their lunch and blame it on someone else." "Is that so?" "It's either that, or let a mouse loose in the showers. Works every time." You both cracked up with laughter, each resting back against the bench then hunching over. "This is why I like meeting up with you- you're such great company!" Viv put his hands flat on the bench, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. "You could say that again," you mimicked the posture, keeping a smile on your face, "It's nice to see the face of a rock star that I don't work with, and one that doesn't need me to throw away his dirty tissues." Viv looked up at the clouds and snickered, "I could give you some of mine if that's what you want." "Don't you start, mister," you threatened him, breaking up into soft giggles again. You paused, and let yourself sigh to him, "God, I'm gonna miss you. After tonight, I mean. I know we'll keep writing and all, but it sucks that we can't see each other that often." His hand found yours, casually patting and resting on top of it, "Oh, I know. But tours, right? What can you do about 'em?" You smiled down at your joined hands, slowly moving yours from underneath Viv's, adjusting the position so you were now holding his instead. "You just gotta go with it and hope there's days that they cross paths." From the corner of your eye, you saw him look at you with a gentle grin, then turn away. He gently gave your hand a squeeze, and you hoped to god he couldn't feel your heartbeat through your fingers, as he would've noticed it was speeding up. Silence fell between both of you for a moment. The only things you could hear were the sounds of the street below, and the breeze around you. Your thumb moved back and forth on his skin as you let your sight fall back down to the way you were holding hands. He slowly looked back down, too, not letting his sight trail away to anything else. When the pause was broken, Viv's voice was softer than it'd been. "Y/n, can I..." "Mmhm?" "Can I be honest with you?" Your voice went gentler as you suddenly felt a new sensation in the air, "Of course." His eyes slowly drifted upwards until he was looking at you, "I think I wanna kiss you..." There was no use hiding the coy smile when it took over. You instinctively looked down for a second to break the eye contact. "...can I?" he sweetly asked when you looked back up at him, his eyes looking reminiscent of a polite puppy, "Is that okay...?" You carefully lifted your eyes back up to meet his again. You nodded and whispered, "Okay." When you granted the permission, you swore you noticed redness on Viv's cheeks. It was good to know that you weren't the only one being bashful for once. Still keeping the hold on your hand, Viv slowly began to lean in, briefly glancing at your lips before letting his eyes close. You did the same, welcoming the warm lips onto your own. The initial contact was deeper than you'd anticipated, but he prolonged it into a softer, more tender kiss. Although a kiss is all it was, you felt- almost literally- swept off your feet. You gently put your other hand on the side of his face, wanting to absorb whatever feeling of glory was being created. Some of his soft curls brushed up against your hand as they lightly trembled in the breeze. Viv broke the embrace slowly, still trying to fight a shy smile. "He never gave me any indication of being shy before... wow, what did I do to him?" You went back to facing the urban view, but broke the hold on Viv's hand to rest your head on his shoulder instead. "Yeah..." you sighed dreamily, "Can't do that in a letter." He silently chuckled against you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "I could've just written an 'x' on your lips instead..." *** The sunset was nearly over and done with as you took a cab back to the venue. The crowd for the Leppards' show would be almost completely filled in by the time you got back, meaning you'd have work to do. "Cinderella's gotta get back to unfinished work," you concluded to yourself, smiling as you stared at the remaining orange streaks in the sky. You and Viv wanted nothing more than another date to arrange a meetup, but you both knew it'd be impossible for the time being; tours rarely crossed paths. As the cab drove on, you felt your path get further and further away from his. No bother, though. You'd write each other as soon as you could. The paths would cross again someday. While the imprint of his lips still ghosted over your own, you didn't want to think too much into it. After all, you wouldn't see or speak to each other for a while yet; the kiss would probably mean nothing in the near future, because that's just how life unfolds around things like that. But for that same evening, though, it meant almost everything. You just wanted to remember that. You got back to the venue in time before the show, a gentle, goofy smile stuck on your face. Your eyes didn't dare look at anything but your feet as your legs dreamily floated you back to a break room. In the back of your mind, you couldn't help but worry that someone- somehow- had seen what you were up to. You put down your purse and flopped into a chair with a thick exhale. Upon remembering how the incident with the Twins and Malvin went earlier, you looked around, and confirmed to yourself that you were alone. Calmer now, you closed your eyes. You could still picture the light of the golden-pink sunset gently vignetting Vivian's face. "A conversation that's not on paper," you recalled the toast from earlier in a whisper. "And a kiss that wasn't on paper either..." You would've never guessed when you woke up this morning that you'd end up kissing your pen pal in such a romantic way. It was crazy how events unfolded in this backstage life. When all seemed settled, and your personal chapter for the day had ended, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," your head went upright again. The door creaked open, and Malvin came inside. You greeted him tiredly, "Hey." "Where have you been?" he asked as he went to a vending machine, "Can't just disappear like that and not tell me what you're up to..." A shrug was all you could think to reply with. "It was nothing. I went to get dinner." "Really? And with who?" "How do you know if I went with someone?" "The shade of red on your face tells me otherwise." You scoffed at him, "You're making that up." "Maybe I am," he teased you, "Better get up there in the next ten minutes though, everyone's wondering where you've been." "I'll be up there in six." Malvin took his drink and nodded, heading towards the door. He took a sip, but stopped himself before he could get to the room's exit. There came a playful nag from him, "Oh, and I haven't told the others this yet, but you've got some explaining to do!" "I do?" "Yeah," he affirmed, going on in a lower tone of disbelief, "You've been writing to Viv Campbell?!" Your heart leapt up, then proceeded to drop into the pit of your stomach.

Shit.

The end.

------ “Since You’re Gone” by The Cars

hearts intertwined | t.s.

— You and Todoroki have been roommates for months now but have barely had more than a two minute conversation. When quarantine hits and everyone is on lockdown, you find yourself forced to spend more time with him and actually end up...enjoying it? 

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader word count: 3,055 genre: roommate au, pro hero!shouto, fluff warnings: suggestive content, 16+, mc and todo are both mid-20s

a/n: this is written as part of the crackhead sanctuary’s server collab! (pls excuse my server name lmfdkgfdg i have terrible naming skillz) i hope y’all enjoy and pls lmk what u think!! xx sof

In many ways, Todoroki Shouto was the perfect roommate. 

He cleaned up after himself, always made an extra serving of food and set it aside for you (though it may only have been because he sucked at measuring out ingredients rather than him intentionally planning on leaving you leftovers), and generally kept his volume to a minimum when entering the apartment at ungodly hours of the night. 

There was also the fact that he was the most attractive person you had ever shared a living space with in your life, and seeing him shirtless on his way to his bedroom from the bathroom was a definite bonus.

But despite all that, he was never someone you considered yourself close to.

You needed help paying for rent and expenses and he happened to be a friend of a friend of a friend who was looking for a place in the city to stay. Call it a divine intervention, a gift from the gods, or even fate… But you still wouldn’t consider yourself his friend.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to befriend him--Todoroki seemed like a sweet person. It was more along the lines of neither of you having the time. While you spent most of your day in the lab studying and doing research, Todoroki was always working in his office or out in the field to fulfill his new hero duties. 

This quarantine was probably the first opportunity either of you had to be in the same building for more than thirty minutes at a time. Which was why, as the two of you sat side-by-side on the living room sofa, no one knew exactly what to say.

“So, the weather--”

“Looks warm out--”

Both of you opened your mouths and shut them at the same time.

“Sorry,” Todoroki said with a small smile. “You first.”

“I-- Oh… It was nothing,” you managed, clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “Just trying to make some small talk.”

With a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes, you slowly craned your head away from his view. Who admits they’re trying to make small talk? That breaks all the rules of how to properly talk to someone.

The faint sound of the television playing old infomercials buzzed in the background while you and your roommate sat in silence. You never struggled to talk to him during those brief moments of passing, so why now? 

Looking at the screen to pass time, you noticed an outdated commercial of an older Tamagotchi game playing and felt yourself breaking out into a grin.

“Aw, I miss that game!” you cried as you turned to Todoroki with an excited glint in your eye. “Don’t tell anyone, but in elementary school I used to play it in class and since I was such a goody two-shoes, the teacher never suspected a thing.”

He raised an eyebrow in response. “I see we have ourselves a rebel in disguise here.”

“It’s our little secret, though. To everyone else, I am the epitome of innocence.”

You couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze travelled down your body and lingered on where the fabric of your oversized pajama shirt stopped and the expanse of your thigh started. 

“Sure. I believe you,” he said in what was almost a teasing tone. 

You felt your face growing hot but you paid it no mind. 

“As you should,” you sniffed, crossing one leg over the other haughtily. When he chuckled, you turned back to him. “How about you? Are you a secret bad boy who played with his Tamagotchi in the back of class?”

Todoroki shook his head. “I never had one. I actually never even knew what it was until high school, I think.” 

“Really?” Your eyes widened. Sure, the hand-held game was marketed to girls, but to never have heard about it through your whole childhood? You weren’t sure how that was possible. “Not even your older sister had one?”

Now, you didn’t know much about his personal life (whether or not he was dating someone, if he slept on the left or the right side of the bed, which leg he put in his pants first, et cetera), but you did pick up on a few things about his siblings from the previous interactions you’ve had with him.

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, looking away thoughtfully. “My father never afforded us such luxuries.” 

You frowned. “What about toys like Pokemon? Oh! Or Yu-Gi-Oh cards?”

“Yu-Gi-Oh cards?” repeated Todoroki slowly, as if he was unsure what you were talking about.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “You never played--? Oh, never mind. How about family games like Twister or Just Dance?” 

As far as you were aware, Todoroki Shouto came from a rather affluent family. So it was a wonder why he never participated in at least one of these experiences that characterized a whole generation’s childhood.

Again, he shook his head. “Never did those either. I wasn’t exactly allowed to play with my siblings, let alone other kids my age. My father always made me prioritize my training.” 

“That’s not right of him.”

You winced. Of course he never had the opportunity to have a “normal” childhood. How could you be so insensitive? It was no secret Endeavor had a troubled relationship with his family, but you weren’t exactly sure to what extent. You didn’t focus much on the whimsical world of heroes and, ever since you were a child, you know you wanted to pursue the field of research rather than use your quirk. The lives of heroes--even top ranking ones--was something you never paid much attention to. Still, even you have heard some gossip about the estranged Endeavor. 

“Sorry for pressing you,” you said, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

He gave you a nonchalant shrug and a small smile to let you know it was okay.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/L/N. You didn’t mean to,” he comforted. “Besides, it’s been a long time. It would be useless to hold a grudge against my father for this long.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Forgiveness, huh? That’s very mature of you, Todoroki. I think I admire you.”

His shoulders moved upward in silent laughter. “Thank you. I admire you, too.” 

Ignoring the faint heat you felt in your cheeks, you beamed. “Thanks. Anyway-- You know what I just realized?”

“What?”

“You did not have a childhood.”

While his face remained passive, you could have sworn you saw his eye crinkle in amusement.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” he said in agreement. “My youth was spent quite differently than most.”

You nodded profusely. “Right. And while I don’t think there is anything inherently wrong with that, per se, it could be beneficial to do these things you haven’t had the chance to!”

He examined you curiously as you bounced up from your seat on the sofa with an excited grin. After a few moments of silence, he craned his neck, prompting you for clarification.

“You’re bored on lockdown, I’m bored on lockdown,” you stated matter-of-factly. “What better time to reclaim your childhood than now?”

Todoroki didn’t bother to hide the small smile making its way across his face at your determined words. “Okay, then. Count me in.”

- - - - -

When you decided you wanted to help your new friend Todoroki reclaim his childhood, you expected your days to be full of cute Beanie Babies and Webkinz, as well as the presumed amounts of chaos that followed edible bubbles and candy kits. And while the first few days of the week consisted of that, the tone changed rather drastically when a certain game was introduced. Of all things, what you expected least was to be practically panting on top of Shouto as you braced your muscles and tried not to collapse onto him.

“Left hand, blue,” he called after flicking the spinner. 

How he managed to turn the spinner with one hand and keep his body balanced with the other on a Twister mat without toppling over was a mystery to you.

Stupid heroes with their stupid, bulging muscles, you thought crossly as you relived your many previous losses. You tried to ignore the bead of sweat dripping down your face as you struggled to stay up. 

Somehow, you turned your head just enough that you had the perfect view of Todoroki’s flexed triceps as he held himself in a modified pushup position of sorts. There was a look of concentration on his face and, while you found his furrowed brows to be rather cute, you still couldn’t help but focus your attention on his arms. He had a lean type of muscle that you thought would feel especially comfortable wrapped around your waist-- 

“Y/L/N, do you forfeit?” 

You blinked, feeling lightheaded both from this game which you lacked the stamina for and from the lack of oxygen that travelled to your brain as you held your breath while staring at Todoroki. 

Once your mind processed his words, you huffed. “Forfeit! Me? Never! Why would you think that?”

“Because I called ‘left hand, blue,’ minutes ago and you still haven’t moved.” 

Blood rushed to your face and you were thankful you had the exertion to blame it on. It wasn’t your fault Todoroki’s arms were so toned and strong and...distracting.

“No,” you said, unsure if there was even a question asked for you to reply to. “I don’t quit!”

Your eyes scanned the mat feverishly, looking for a blue circle to place your left hand on that would cause the least amount of strain. Shouto had already won the first two rounds and you’d be damned if you were to let him win again. (As much as you loved witnessing him succeed, your pride would simply be too hurt if you lost a third time in a row.) 

“Find a spot yet?” he asked in amusement. “I’m not sure how much longer my arms can hold.”

Of course, just the mention of his arms drew your attention from finding the optimal Twister position to staring stupidly at his triceps again.

As you attempted to tear your gaze away from him, you spotted hints of a smirk lingering on Todoroki’s face.

Did he notice your staring? There was no way… 

You looked at him, wide-eyed and dubious, and almost choked when you saw his shoulders start to shake as he tried to hide his laughter.

His laugh was muffled by his shirt in an attempt to keep his volume down, but it still rang rich and deep in the air. It was the first time you heard him laugh like that and you wanted to do anything to hear it again. 

With a shake of his head, he removed his hands from their spot on the Twister board and sat upright beside you.

“I concede,” he said when he saw you eyeing him with curiosity. “You win this round. My arms were getting too sore.”

After hearing the sweet sound of Todoroki saying, “You win,” you let yourself collapse on the floor, rolling onto your back to get a clear view of your cream-colored ceiling.

“For some reason, I sincerely doubt that your arms were getting sore,” you said, stretching your own--genuinely sore--arms out in front of you. “But seeing as I was about to fall flat on my face if I waited any longer… Thank you for conceding.” 

“Doubt I’d be sore?” he repeated, craning his neck to peer down at your face. He placed his left hand on his right bicep and gently massaged it with his thumb and forefinger. “What for?” 

By then, whatever rational thought was left in your brain had been fully replaced by Shouto’s arms and Shouto’s arms only, and you couldn’t even complain. 

“Mmm, what did you say again?” You blinked, clearing your throat. You suddenly had the desire to chug a cool glass of water.

Todoroki’s only reply was another small--almost imperceptible--smirk. It would have been easy for someone to miss, but to you, someone who was perhaps being more attentive to their roommate and newfound friend than they’d care to admit, it was clear as day.  

“You’re totally messing with me!” you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you continued to lie with your back on the floor. “Aren’t you?”

He let out a breathy laugh and shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “Sorry. It’s just cute seeing your reactions. I didn’t know you liked my arms so much.”

You could’ve sworn he flexed once more for dramatic effect and an indignant squeak escaped your mouth.

“I-I don’t!” you protested, making sure to look anywhere but his arms. “I just never noticed how...proportionate they were before! Just thinking about how da Vinci would admire them. For scientific purposes, of course.”

“Sure.” 

You gaped at the knowing look on his face. “How did you even notice? Aren’t you a bit of the oblivious type?” With wide eyes, you slapped your hand over your mouth. “Wait-- I’m sorry. That was rude to say.”

Todoroki waved it off with a smile to show he wasn’t offended in the slightest. “I guess I was rather oblivious in the beginning of high school. But as I grew up I became more accustomed to picking up on such things.” 

You hummed in silent contemplation. Of course he had to have grown used to people making moon eyes over him. He probably got it all the time.

“I usually pay it no mind,” he continued as he stood up, peering down at you sprawled out on the floor. “But when you do it, I find it sort of cute.” 

As if he didn’t just say something that caused your heart to skip a beat, Todoroki extended a hand out to help you up.

Ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, you gently placed your hand in his.

“Thanks,” you murmured as Shouto pulled you off the mat and towards his body, a feeling of lightheadedness overcoming you at the sudden motion.

One hand held yours while his other was placed firmly above your elbow to help you steady yourself.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice as he watched you regain your balance.

“Oh, yeah! No worries. This happens all the time, to be honest,” you admitted, vaguely taking note of how your chest was almost fully pressed against his. “Whenever I move my head too fast I get a bit dizzy. And whenever I stand too fast my knees sort of just crack.” 

Your words did nothing to soothe the worried furrow between his brows.

“Is...Is that not normal?” 

He blinked.

You grimaced. “Okay. Guess not. Maybe I need to work out more.” 

“You can work out indoors with me,” Todoroki suggested with a small smile. He looked so sincere you were just about to agree until he opened his mouth for a second time-- “As long as you don’t spend the whole workout gawking at my arms.”

With an indignant cry, you pulled yourself away from his loose grip, face burning with such intensity you wouldn’t be surprised if he were able to sense the rise in temperature. “I never gawked at your arms.” 

He hummed. 

“Well, okay, maybe I did,” you relented with a huff, bending down to fold up the game mat in front of you. “They look very strong. Being a hero must be hard work.”

Todoroki shrugged, helping you clean up. “It’s worth the toll it takes. I can imagine your research requires hard work too.” 

You tried to hide the look of surprise on your face. You briefly talked to him about what you did during the roommate-finding process, but you didn’t think it was anything interesting enough for him to recall. It brought an odd warmth to your stomach knowing he cared enough to remember. 

“I guess. But I’d say it’s nowhere near as difficult as hero work,” you brushed off. “Not everyone has what it takes to be a good hero.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he followed you into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“There are lots of great heroes,” he stated, filling up two cups and handing one to you. 

“Yeah, there are. And greatness is one thing, but you’re a good one-- In the heart.” Your gaze flitted to his, unsure why you were filled with the sudden urge to have such an intimate conversation after a game of Twister. Still, you rolled with it. “I know we haven’t talked much prior to this lockdown...but even I can tell how caring you are. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” 

A comfortable silence filled the air as he took a seat beside you. If Shouto was taken aback by your sudden compliment, he did a good job at hiding it, simply giving you a small smile as he let his shoulder rest against yours. You glanced over at the point of contact and bubbled with elation. 

“Todoroki?” you called quietly, the edge of your pinky brushing against his. 

He looked down at the gentle touch of your hand and didn’t move away. Instead, he took the initiative and placed his fingers on top of yours, his hand surprisingly soft despite the calluses on his fingertips. The back of your neck heated at the sudden movement, but you decided you rather liked how his hands felt on yours. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thanks for letting me drag you along to play these childhood games,” you said, letting out a sigh of contentment. “It’s a nice change of pace while we’re stuck indoors.”

Shouto shook his head. “I should be the one thanking you. These are much better childhood memories than the ones from my actual childhood,” he admitted with a light laugh. “I’m glad we had the opportunity to spend more time together, Y/L/N.”

By now your fingers were intertwined with his, his thumb lightly stroking the peak of your knuckle.

He continued, “I hope this continues even when quarantine is over.” 

“I hope it does, too.” You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading wide across your face as you nuzzled your head on his shoulder. “Let’s keep making memories together, okay, Todoroki?”

“Happily.” 

MJ ~ Webpril Day 10

A/N: So this was an older work of mine from years ago that inspired me to rework and rewrite it to fit the prompt fill. It's quite different from anything else I've done in this collection thus far, in that it's set in an AU where it puts Peter quite OOC compared to his MCU persona. The Peter I've portrayed in this short one-shot is quite jaded and pessimistic in his adult life, having been hurt in love before and instead has become a sort of tortured artist. Peter also doesn't have powers, Harrington is now an arts professor, and Ned is inexplicably clairvoyant. Peter somehow knows he's seen the woman he's painting before, and maybe he has, in another lifetime. This story is a bit darker in sub-tone and doesn't contain any IronDad, but what's a compilation without a bit of variety :) This is a project I've considered making into a full fic, but we'll see what happens with it.

~Read on AO3

~Read on FFN

Paintbrush in hand, he let each colour blend together in a unique dance of raw emotion, letting each stroke convey a secret that resided deep inside him, and he found that the strokes directed themselves once he began. Her face, though only seen ever so briefly, embedded itself into his memory.

The image was beginning to take place on what was once a blank sheet of white, and now a woman with olive skin took over the surface, framed by long and dark hair cascading down the figure’s shoulders. Hazel eyes stared back out at the artist, and the dimming light from the busy city below surrounded the piece of art with a haunting yet dauntingly beautiful quality.

What really caught the eye of the artist, however, was the dark necklace that hung just below her collarbone. It was a black dahlia flower made of glass, some petals cracked, and some completely missing. The memory of it stood out so clearly in his mind, just as her face had when they fleetingly passed each other on the metro during that midsummer afternoon.

An angel must have been looking down upon him and had granted him the opportunity to find love once more, but he couldn’t tell if it was an opportunity that could be defined as cruel, or a golden chance to redeem his heart that had begun to blacken as he got older.

Startled from his reverie, Peter turned around, paintbrush still in hand, palette now empty and canvas now full. The door had creaked open ever so silently and tentatively that he would have nearly missed it if it weren’t for his overindulged paranoia.

“Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” His tone was laced with annoyance, and it was poorly covered up. This of course didn’t go unnoticed by Ned, but his urgency far surpassed his need to grace Peter’s biting comment with a response.

“Peter, there’s been an accident on Queens Boulevard, and I think this woman you drew may have been involved.”

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

The sun had now completely set on New York as Peter turned right and onto where 71st Avenue met Queens Boulevard. Peter had come up to the scene first, the man he still called his best friend arriving moments later.

What met his eyes was an absolute catastrophe, and he wondered how anyone or anything could have survived what was the largest vehicle pileup he had ever seen in his twenty-eight years of existence.

A large semi-truck was keeled over sideways on top of a number of smaller cars. It was a mess that consisted of an assortment of wheels and metallic parts that once belonged to a whole. He could smell the acute tang of iron amongst the powerful odour of gasoline and burnt rubber. In a moment at the wrong place at the wrong time, the lives of ill-fated drivers and unfortunate bystanders alike had ended. Even if some had survived, there would be permanent scars, physical and mental, that would remain for the rest of their lives. It gave Peter a fleeting sense of sonder.

Quashing his initial surprise and his odd sense of apathy regarding what caused such an accident, he turned to Ned and frowned, indifference transforming into confusion and mild vexation. He sighed. “Why am I here, Ned?”

“So, you’re telling me that you’re not expressing an ounce of concern for these people? That’s cold, man.” Giving him a brief sidelong glance and pressing his lips together, Ned moved to be amongst the crowd and reached out to the first man he saw – a police officer – and swiftly made to gather all the information he could about the situation at hand.

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

The clock had ticked forward about thirty minutes since the two arrived at the scene of the accident. He returned around fifteen minutes later, having grown weary of (what was essentially) interrogating person after person. He shook his head slowly, communicating ‘nope, I got nothing’.

“Look, this is tragic and all, and I feel really bad, I do, but dude, did you really have to distract me from my artwork? I need to get this piece finished and handed in to Harrington by tomorrow, I don’t have time to be checking out depressing wreckages on the main road.” He paused, shifting his eyes away from the disaster zone and instead transferred his full attention to Ned. “Wait wait, why did you say the woman I drew might be here? And why did I believe you?”

“Because I’m usually right?”

Peter felt a small pang of unease dart across his mind despite himself. He trusted Ned’s intuition – it was rarely ever wrong. Most things that Ned had seen in his visions had come to pass, and Peter hoped that this mystery woman would be no different. He had to meet her, and not in a creepy way. He felt as if in another life or another timeline - should such a thing exist – they had been happy together. Unexpectedly, the image of himself giving the necklace to her featuring himself as a younger, less jaded version of himself, played through his mind. They were standing on a bridge in the night, in a place that was not their home yet was. He felt that anywhere she was became home. It was such an unexpected thought, and yet it was so strangely profound and vivid that it felt more like a memory.

He scanned the wreckage from afar once more, but most victims had long since been extricated from the pretzel made up of what was now just scrap metal. He knew who he was looking for. He was looking for that face he drew in his painting, the face that had been etched permanently into his mind for some time. Once more he recalled that figure silhouetted by long, dark curls that fell like a waterfall in the night. That necklace of a flower with a meaning he had yet to understand.

If she wasn’t there, he didn’t even know where to begin looking. New York was a massive city, full of seemingly infinite twists and turns he hadn’t discovered and probably never would.

He was taken aback by his own obsession with this strange girl. He’d never even truly met her.

His musings were broken by the sound of sirens echoing down the main boulevard, the final ambulances at last departing with the injured and deceased citizens of New York.

He wondered sadly if she was one of them.

A/N: SO, that was definitely different haha What'd you guys think? I enjoyed writing with a bit more of a 'serious' tone, but today's fill was a bit difficult for me, hence the shorter length as well. I also wanted to try something a bit different, so here we have it! See you back with another update tomorrow xx